Page 54 of The Iron Flower

Jules is silently watching her, his expression unreadable.

“Where will you go?” I ask her.

“Noi lands,” she says, cradling her teacup. “My brother Fain is there. My sisters. Our adopted daughter, Zephyr.”

A distant recollection surfaces. “I’ve heard my Uncle Edwin mention someone named Fain. Did your brother know my uncle?”

Lucretia and Jules exchange a darkly private look.

He did, I realize in a flash.Why are they being so secretive?

“They knew each other at University,” Lucretia says, the words oddly careful.

“Did he know my parents, too?” I ask, thrown.

Lucretia’s mouth twitches. “Yes.”

I can sense that’s all I’m going to get from either of them for now, so I back away from the subject. “Are you going to leave for the east, too?” I ask Jules.

“Eventually,” he says. “I’ll stay as long as I can, though, helping others get out.”

I despair at the thought of yet more people I care about leaving. I can’t think on it for too long—how lonely the Western Realm will be with most of them gone.

“What are you planning on doing about the mandatory fasting?” Lucretia asks me.

“I don’t know yet,” I say helplessly. “But I have to stay and take care of my uncle. Someone needs to, and I can’t leave him alone in Valgard with my aunt.”

Lucretia’s gaze narrows with a silent question, and I realize the conversation has shifted without my realizing it.“Have you found out anything more about where Lukas Grey stands?” she asks.

Yes, that he’s an enigma wrapped in an enigma. “I know he doesn’t care much for Vogel’s policies,” I tell her, “but he’s pretty evasive otherwise.”

“There’s talk of allowing Gardnerians to be part of the Verpacian and Vu Trin border guard for the eastern and western passes through the Spine,” Jules says.

“If that happens, those guards would be drawn from the Fourth Division Base,” Lucretia adds, her meaning clear.

Yvan’s fiery eyes light in my mind, setting off an ache deep inside me.

No. Let him go.

Because I realize that there’s something of grave significance that I can do here—something of much greater use than just making medicines.

* * *

I visit the hawkery before dawn.

Rune-hawks with glossy onyx feathers rustle on wooden perches all around the circular tower room. Small iron rings encircle each bird’s left leg, connected to the perches with short, delicate chains.

I hand my note, written on the lightweight parchment, to the young Gardnerian fowler. His eyes widen as he reads the name of the message’s intended recipient, and his gaze flies up to meet mine, trepidation stark on his face.

Ah, Lukas, I think grimly.How far your reach extends.

I glance over the fowler’s head at the panoramic view of Verpacia that can be seen through the tower’s arching windows. The snowcapped Northern Spine is washed in blue light and watches us with cold majesty.

Yvan will be leaving soon. There’s no future where we can be together. So, I need to seal up my heart and let it go cold.

And I need to seize my influence where it lies. Rooted here, in the Western Realm.

“Are you sure, Mage?” the skinny fowler asks. He swallows nervously, holding my small missive like it’s about to burst into flames.

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