Page 83 of The Iron Flower

“Fine,” I snap back.

“We have something very similar here, only it’s Urisk girls in addition to a few Selkies. And a fair number of our men frequent these...establishments.” He says the word with disgust. “Most of the men working for the Resistance won’t care about a bunch of Selkie whores. They don’t care about the Urisk girls, either.”

“And are you one of these men?” I demand, disgusted and disillusioned. “Are you off raping Urisk girls and Selkies in your free time?”

Yvan looks visibly ratttled.

“No,” Clive says, his eyes full of warning. “I told you I think it’s despicable. But I’m a realist, Elloren Gardner.”

“So, there’s no one, then,” I whisper, crushed by the injustice of it all. “No one who’ll help them. Only us.”

Clive considers me for a moment. Yvan is peering out the window at nothing in particular, his face full of angry tension.

“There might be someone who can help you,” Clive says, sounding hesitant.

Yvan and I both turn to him. “Who?” we ask, almost in unison.

“The Amaz.”

Yvan and I exchange a look of surprise.

“Go petition their queen,” Clive suggests. “Don’t bring any men, of course, unless you want to see them beheaded by rune-axes. Ask for Freyja. Tell her I sent you. Tell herprivately. Don’t mention my name around the others.”

“Who’s Freyja?” I wonder.

Clive looks away, a bitter, melancholy smile on his lips. “An old friend.”

She’s more than a friend. It’s clear from the expression that washes over his face when he says her name.

“They’ll help you,” he says, looking out the window toward the forest, a faraway look in his eyes. “They can’t stand to see women abused in any way. It makes themveryangry, and if there’s one group you don’t want to piss off, trust me, it’s the Amaz.”

Clive turns back to regard me, and I can see something new in his eyes. He believes Yvan—that I’m different than he thought. “If you’re going to petition the Amaz,” he says, “you must be very careful to observe their protocol when approaching the queen. There’s no room for error on this. Do you know someone who can help you learn their customs?”

Yvan tells him about Andras, and Diana and Jarod, as well.

“Does your mother know about any of this?” Clive asks Yvan, a smile playing on his lips. “Last I heard, she was relieved that you were holed up at the University—quietly studying, staying out of trouble, working in the kitchens and faithfully sending every last extra cent you earn home to her.”

“Most of that is true,” Yvan says cagily.

“Except for the staying out of trouble part.”

Yvan doesn’t answer him.

Clive shakes his head and shoots Yvan a sidelong glance. “I wouldn’t mind being a fly on the wall when you introduce her to your mother. Are you going to see her now?”

“We’re going to stay there tonight,” Yvan tells him.

“Well, then. Good luck.” Clive glances at me appraisingly. “This may not be...easy. For her to accept.”

“My mother’s fair-minded,” Yvan insists.

Clive’s jaw tightens, as if he wants to argue the point, but he holds back. I’m a bit stung by his doubts. I know it’s going to be hard for Yvan’s mother to meet me. But it was difficult for Clive, too, and he’s come around fairly quickly.

Everything will be just fine.

“Yvan,” Clive says, as if he’s just remembered something. “A dragon was stolen from a Gardnerian military base near that University of yours. You and your friends wouldn’t have had anything to do with that, would you?”

My lungs stop working for a moment, and the muscles in Yvan’s neck tighten.

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