Children of the Lily

Home > Other > Children of the Lily > Page 23
Children of the Lily Page 23

by Cait Ashwood


  She’d almost entirely forgotten the man that brought her here and jumped when he shifted his weight behind her. Her already scraped up knees protested and she cursed, not that anyone could understand her.

  Zaddicus seemed to pay attention to him for the first time as well. “Pass the word along. This one is not to be touched.” Zad nudged her knee with his boot and she moaned, trying to rotate herself away from him.

  “Stryker, take your pet to your real room and take whatever you need to make her comfortable. The men won’t trouble her now.” He turned on his heel and stalked through the training room. Lily hadn’t focused much on the room itself, but it appeared to have a partially hidden door in the rear, as Zaddicus vanished through it and did not return.

  The man left, muttering to himself as he did so. Vex was the next one to pass her by, and the woman’s sneer was far from comforting. That left only one person, and he was staring at her from across the room. Emotions played out across his face in an indiscernible pattern, but Lily found that she was too tired to care. She obviously was a horrible judge of character, and this entire venture was her own fault. There was only so much blame she could place at his feet, and she knew it. What a hell of a way to finally start growing up. She waited patiently for him to come around, keeping her eyes on the ground.

  After what seemed to take ages, his boots finally entered her field of vision. She forced herself to look at him, the boy she thought she’d shared a kinship with. His face was set and emotionless, but his eyes seemed to be trying to tell her something. Whatever it was, she wasn’t interested in decoding it. He leaned toward her and she resisted the urge to lean away, still stuck on her knees. He reached behind her head and she twisted away until she felt the tugging on the gag. She stilled as he undid the knot, wincing as he peeled the fabric away from her chafed skin. She rubbed her tongue all through her mouth to restore moisture, pointedly not looking at him.

  “You’re my prisoner now.”

  She glanced up at him, then away. “I gathered.” The words came out more like ‘I gaffered,’ her tongue not yet cooperating.

  He stared at her a moment longer. “Come on, then.” He pulled at her arm, but quickly steadied her on the other side, gentler than her former captor had been. He marched her away in another direction and she didn’t pay attention to their path. It wasn’t until the air grew heavy with moisture that she bothered to look up from her feet.

  “Wait here.” He left her standing at an intersection of paths, ducking into a dimly lit area. The smell of water and sulfur accompanied him on his return and he beckoned for her to follow.

  Another man was present in what was obviously a bathing room. There was another exit on the other side. While she was taking all of this in, the rasp of steel caught her attention.

  “I’m going to cut you loose now. You try and run, you won’t get far.” His voice was tough but evenly measured. “Sabre will cover that exit, and I’ll have this one. You will bathe, and change into the clothes over there.” His knife snapped through the cords around her wrists easily and she immediately began rubbing at them. It hurt, but it was better than the tingling pain that followed.

  Lily’s eyes drifted to the bundle of clothing in question. The man called Sabre moved to the other exit and stood in the doorway, his back to the water. Stryker stared at her a moment longer before adopting a similar pose in the entrance they’d used. Lily stared at both of their backs for some time before getting up the courage to do as commanded. She turned her back on them in kind and got as close to the water as she dared. Then, as if it were some sort of contest rewarding speed, she stripped as quickly as she could and waded into the water at a crouch, to better cover herself.

  They didn’t turn and stare at her, even when she splashed around. Small miracles. Still, it was awkward as hell and she was incredibly self-conscious. Down here, her skin made her look like a ghost, and that was hardly attractive. Not sure why I care about that. Being attractive was only going to get her into more trouble. She didn’t scrub herself as raw as she wanted, more interested in finishing things up quickly. She got out and dried as quickly as she dared, leaving several wet spots. She donned something much closer to the Order’s robes than her previous outfit, with a deep V plunging down the front. She studied it skeptically, shifting about to see if she was going to be forced to reveal herself.

  Should be okay if I don’t do a lot of bending. She stared at Stryker’s back, the first hint of loathing coming over her. What am I now, Stryker? A trophy for you to show off? The outfit certainly seemed to suggest it.

  “Are you decent?” The question came from the other man, and Lily nodded her response before realizing he couldn’t see her.

  “Yes.” Even her voice sounded dead, but at least it matched how she was feeling.

  Sabre turned enough to catch Stryker’s attention. “I’ll take my leave, then.”

  Stryker nodded. “Thanks for sticking around.”

  The other man didn’t reply but held Stryker’s gaze for a time before disappearing down the other passage.

  Stryker took a deep breath, then turned to face her. “Am I going to have to bind you again, or are you going to cooperate?”

  Alone with him, her temper flared back to life. “I’m getting rather good at doing what I’m told.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Fine. Then get moving.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Brana hummed softly as she checked the moisture level of the soil in the pots of the greenhouse. Most of their young trees started off here, growing to a decent size before being transplanted. It provided training opportunities and, more importantly, a use for the Order while at home. This greenhouse was singlehandedly responsible for providing the trees for the Groves on the northern continent and greatly accelerated the rate at which they could expand the Groves in the south as well.

  Few of the trainees spent much time here, but that was just fine with her. Their idle chatter grated on her nerves and made her want to escape. She could almost smell the salt water of the cliffs where Jasper took her when she needed time away and sighed. It was so much easier when we were younger. Now he’s away at the Institute all the time and I’m left here, alone. As much as she wanted to say it didn’t bother her, it did. Most of the girls hated her, and she hadn’t even done anything to them.

  Inspections complete, she turned and walked to the back corner of the greenhouse. Since all her hobbies had to satisfy the prerequisite of ‘things she could do alone,’ her bonsai was a perfect fit. It was a species of maple with a marvelously twisted trunk. It had all the strength and characteristics of a fully grown tree, yet stood a mere fourteen inches tall. Brana pulled out a small pair of shears from her apron and studied the tree, turning the bowl to get a look at its structure from all angles.

  Ah, you’ll cause nothing but trouble if you keep growing in that direction. Brana bent over the tree, bracing one arm on the shelf and slowly working the shears into the appropriate place. She didn’t have much room to work, and an even smaller margin of error. She held her breath, biting her lower lip as the shears finally fell into the perfect position. She glanced around to the back side of the branch to ensure nothing else would be in the way of the blades, then inhaled slowly and held her breath to keep entirely still.

  Snip. The offending branch fell, tumbling to the mossy ‘ground’ beneath the tree. Brana inspected the cut and found herself satisfied. She didn’t even have to consciously enter her trance to heal the bark over the open wound, creating a seamless cover where the branch had been. She pocketed the shears and looked for the fallen branch, flicking it off the moss with the tip of a nail.

  There, perfect. She stepped back and admired her handiwork, a faint smile on her face.

  A woman clearing her throat jolted her and she jumped, turning about to see who was there.

  One of mother’s aides. Worry gnawed at her immediately, but instead, she tilted her head at the woman, waiting for whatever message she carried.


  “Your mother would like to see you when you have a moment.”

  Brana frowned. “Did she say what about?” If Audrey was calling her during the daylight hours, then it meant an official meeting between the First and a trainee. Try as she might, Brana couldn’t think of anything she had done wrong. Even the bonsai was a species that wouldn’t thrive well in the climate outdoors, so she was hardly wasting resources.

  The aide shook her head. “No, I’m sorry.”

  Brana put the bonsai back in its usual spot on the work surface. “I’ll go right away, thank you.”

  She took the six flights of stairs slowly to give herself a chance to think. Rowan being here in the Tower had perked her mother up something fierce. The puppy seemed to be helping, too. She’d been making great progress as far as Brana was concerned, and her dad had even spent a night in the Tower instead of the guard barracks recently. Why now? Why when everything is starting to look up?

  There was still the matter of Jasper and whatever secret he was keeping from her. Brana was nearly positive he had at least a good idea of where to find Lily if nothing else. He was barely around, which meant that he was working on something in his time away from his studies. All the pieces seemed perfectly lined up for her life to start returning to normal, and then there’s this talk with her mom. No, it was a meeting with the First. Sometimes the distinction was hard to make.

  She paused before the ornate double doors, bringing up the courage to lift the heavy brass knocker. It was cold in her hands and she let it fall back, an ominous bang echoing around the walls of the Tower.

  Amelina opened the door and looked down at her, a grave expression on her face. “Brana, please, come in.”

  She glanced to the right where her mother’s formal audience chamber lay, but the lights were extinguished. That means this is a more casual meeting? Confused, Brana proceeded to the table set with three cups where her mother sat, dipping a tea bag into the water. Amelina moved past her and took a seat, taking a moment to select her tea bag from the small tin in the center of the table.

  Brana sat in the third seat, taking a bag at random and setting it in her cup, pouring hot water from the small pot over it and staring as color leeched into the liquid. She was stalling, but her mother had called her here, not the other way around. Audrey was sending mixed messages, and Brana had no clue what was going on. Formal meetings happened in the audience chamber, so this should have been a casual one. Yet, she was summoned by an aide and Amelina was remaining with them, lending an official air to the meeting. It didn’t fit her mother’s usual mode of operation, and her sense that something was wrong grew by the minute.

  Audrey cleared her throat. “Thank you for coming so quickly, Brana.”

  Brana glanced up, dipped her head, and returned her attention to her tea. What she really wanted was some of Jasper’s coffee, but tea would have to do.

  “I... I don’t really know how to say this.” Audrey’s attention was on the spoon of sugar she was dumping into her cup. Her mother glanced at Amelina, who seemed to take that as some sort of hint.

  “Brana, your mother would like to step down as First, as soon as you are able to take her place.”

  She--what? Brana looked between the two women, speechless.

  “I know it’s sudden, and you’re not even an adult yet, so it’s hardly fair of me.” Audrey shook her head, staring at her tea. “I just don’t think I can do this anymore. I’ve lived my life for the Order for many years, and I haven’t had any time to enjoy my life for myself.”

  “I see.” I don’t see, not really. We all live for the Order. Brana thought back to the other night, to her mother’s confessions about everything she’d lived through. Well, she has given up more than the rest of us. It made sense in an odd, surreal sort of way.

  “But the next Lily will be voted on, mother. There’s hardly any chance I’d win.” She wasn’t exactly popular with her fellow classmates, and well she knew it.

  Amelina cleared her throat. “Well, when we were rescued, we felt that the leader of the Order should have pure blood. It was largely a political decision at the time, but the issues that caused that decision are still present in the current day. That leaves only three people able to succeed your mother; Lily, yourself, and Paige.”

  Brana thought about Jasper’s little sister. She was only thirteen. Lily didn’t really count; she had next to no ability, and without being able to enter a Grove, she would be a figurehead and nothing more. I’m the only option. And we’re not talking years from now, we’re talking as soon as I can step up to the plate.

  Confusion swirled in her head. She’d never anticipated being pinned for leadership before being officially pinned as a Lily. I haven’t even had my First Rites yet. I was going to wait until after Lily had hers, and then see if maybe Jasper might consider it but... That ship had sailed before she’d even realized it was in port. As the leader of the Order, her choice in partner would determine the commander of the Seekers. Jasper was well-respected, but he was still young. Brana would have to choose someone older and more seasoned.

  She sipped at her tea, her etiquette lessons covering her mental anguish. It felt like the tea passed straight through her, which wasn’t altogether surprising since she wasn’t sure she could feel the floor under her feet.

  Her mother coughed. “I realize this is sooner than anticipated, Brana, but,” she sighed, “I need to be free to watch over Lily when she comes back. I need to be able to visit Rowan, if he’ll see me. I need to be able to sleep in the same room as my beloved, without my stress keeping him from his rest. I need--” she faltered, shaking her head.

  “You need your life back,” Brana finished quietly. Even if it costs mine. But that was the way of it, wasn’t it? It was how the Order operated. There was a reason people donated supplies to them, even if the general population was largely ignorant of it. Theirs was a life of service, and it was written into their very vows. Sacrifice was their way of life.

  Brana tried to smile. It’s just happening earlier than anticipated. Her mind skipped ahead, working out the mental math. She’d be officially sixteen on the next moon and able to begin her reproductive service, if she was so inclined. She’d been planning to wait a while but obviously everything was going to change now.

  Amelina cast a wary glance at Audrey. “We need you to start repairing your relationship with the girls. I know you didn’t do anything to them in the first place, but Lily turned many of them against you. In her absence, we need you to start building those bridges. These are the women that will support you during your time as First, and you need to start making those connections and alliances now.”

  “I understand.” She felt about as big as an ant, and the world was a heavy burden to carry. Beginning her service early would be one way to start winning the loyalty of the girls around her. So that’s it, then.

  “Is that all for now?” The cliffs called to her, but they were a luxury she could no longer afford. If this was going to be thrust on her early, she had a lot of planning and time to make up for. She wouldn’t be free to run off with Jasper to go cliff diving anymore, and it was far too risky an activity to be doing in the first place. Grief swam through her veins, though what she was grieving, she couldn’t rightly say. Possibilities, I guess. It was silly to mourn something that never was, but the emotion remained all the same.

  Her mother’s face looked stricken when Audrey finally looked up, but Amelina nodded. “Yes, you may go.”

  “Thank you, Advisor.” Brana rose from the table, leaving her partially full teacup untouched as she fled the room at a dignified walk.

  She paused, the closed door at her back, and took a deep breath. Panic coursed through her veins and her pulse pounded in her ears, demanding that she do something right now. Leadership wasn’t a topic to be taken lightly, and any decisions she made now couldn’t afford to be rash. What she needed to do was sit down, make a plan, and come up with a strategy.

  Her feet trave
rsed the stairs one by one and she slowly sped up until she was heading down the six stories at a nearly reckless pace. There was always parchment in the record rooms, and few of her own peers would be there to pester her. By the time she reached the heavy metal doors, she was out of breath and flushed. She pulled on the door, only to have it move too easily in her hand. She tumbled backward, landing much like a crab and blinking up at the doors like an idiot.

  “Oh, Brana. Sorry, didn’t realize you were here too.” Jasper gave her a hand up, his attention still mostly focused on a piece of parchment in his hand.

  Brana dusted herself off, her pride hurt more than anything else. “I, um.” She didn’t know what to say to him anymore. Of course, as far as he was concerned, nothing had changed. In her own mind, everything had changed, and just where did that leave their--relationship? Friendship? She didn’t know. Talking about what they meant to each other had never been high on her list of priorities, but she knew instinctively that if she told him what she was thinking now, he would be deeply wounded by it. Better to not mention it at all, then.

  His eyes flicked up to her, mild surprise on his features. “Everything okay?”

  No. “I just needed to--” Oh, come on. Think of something. “--come up with a schedule. I figured it would be quieter down here.”

  Jasper stared at her thoughtfully for a second before slowly folding up the scrap of parchment and tucking it into his vest.

  “Wait, aren’t you banned from the record rooms right now?” She’d heard one hell of an argument the other night, and while she’d done her best not to eavesdrop, she’d ended up hearing most of it anyway.

 

‹ Prev