Eris shook her head. This was not going at all how she intended it to go. But what had she intended? Did she confront Lira about what she’d heard? Ask her if she was a flower mage as Adrick claimed? Demand to know if she worked with the north?
“Then why have you come to me? You have an assignment to study your flower. If you are prepared to report, then I am willing to meet, but otherwise I will not have you wasting my time.”
“I am not prepared to report,” she admitted. “It’s just…”
Lira tilted her head toward her. “Just what, Eris Taeresin?”
A heavy peal of thunder shook the palace.
The floor shook beneath her. The walls chattered. Somewhere glass shattered.
Lira’s face tightened, and her eyes took on a faraway expression. Her mouth clenched, and she spun, turning away from Eris and hurrying back into her room. In her haste, she neglected to close the door.
“Lira?” Eris asked.
Lira didn’t answer. Instead, she hurried to a wide window and looked out.
Eris took a tentative step into the room, watching to see what Lira would do.
The room smelled like the garden. Cut flowers arranged and set in vases almost cluttered the sitting room. A pale wooden chair sat looking toward the largest collection of vases rather than toward the hearth in the corner of the room. A simple desk pushed against one wall, a partially completed arrangement sat near the edge. A small cluster of flowers rested on towels on either side, the shape of the blue petals making them likely a daisy or carnation. Next to the wall at the back of the desk was a stack of books, all bound in dark brown leather.
Eris crept toward the desk, curious. She glanced over the arrangement on the desk and looked at the books. Gold lettering embossed the leather of the topmost book. She could not make out the title easily, but that was not what caught her eye. It was the author she noted. Feliran.
Hadn’t Billiken said the master gardener had borrowed the books? Why had Lira taken them from him?
Eris grabbed one without looking at the title and pocketed it.
A sudden gust of wind made Eris turn.
Lira had opened the window and leaned forward. Wind whipped around her head, spinning her hair and fluttering her dress. Cold air filled the room, heavy with the scent of rain. Flashes of lightning streaked from the sky. A few seemed close. Thunder rumbled once, and then again and again in a steady drumbeat.
“Mistress Lira?” she asked again.
Lira ignored her. Rain pelted into the room, soaking the floor and running along the edges of the wall. The flower master’s hair was soaked and hung in strings along her face. Another flash of lightning came so close that Lira had to lean away from the window. Her face stretched pale and taut.
Eris realized that she was mumbling something, words so soft she could barely hear. She stepped closer, worried about Lira’s sudden strange behavior. Lira seemed oblivious to Eris’ presence in the room with her, concerned only for what she witnessed outside the window.
As Eris neared, she saw what Lira was watching.
The window overlooked the garden. She had not realized Lira’s rooms could see the garden, but it made sense. Probably Lira had watched her every day and knew how little she managed to get done. Something she should have considered before now.
Eris looked out the window. Through the flickering lightning strikes, fires burned in the garden. There came another blinding strike and another fire bloomed.
Just then, Lira turned as if aware that Eris was next to her. Her eyes grew wide and her face was slack. Her mouth worked soundlessly.
Then she collapsed.
Chapter 10
Eris hesitated. Whatever happened now was the result of the magi. Somehow, she was certain of that. And if Lira did work for Varden or the Kelths, then perhaps she should leave her. Wouldn’t it be better if Adrick succeeded and protected the kingdom from whatever she planned?
Lira moaned, ending any debate.
Eris tore out of Lira’s room in a run. All around her, the palace shook with thunder. The heavy pounding slowly eased, replaced by a steady rumbling that rattled windows but did nothing more.
She looked around the wide hall. Lanterns flickered from wind blowing through an open door or window somewhere down the hall. A few had blown out, leaving gaps of light along the hall, dark shadows shifting strangely. The air felt heavy and wet.
Finally, she saw a servant poke a head tentatively out of a door. Eris raised her hand, waving.
The servant was a young girl, probably only a year or so older than Eris herself, and dressed in the plain white cotton of the housemaids. Her eyes widened as she saw Eris waving, and for a moment, Eris thought she might scurry away.
“Send help! The Mistress of Flowers is injured.” She tried suffusing her voice with all the authority she could, unintentionally channeling Jasi as much as her mother.
The girl nodded and darted off.
Eris turned back toward Lira’s room and stepped inside. Lira lay on the ground. Rain still streamed through the open window and splashed on her now-soaked yellow shift. Lightning streaked continuously outside the window and thunder rolled like a constant drumbeat.
“Eris.”
Eris hurried over when Lira called her name, all hints of formality in her voice gone. Instead, she sounded weak and tired.
Lira leaned on her side, her head lolling weakly on her neck. In spite of the rain soaking her, she looked like a wilting flower. Wrinkles seemed to have appeared over the last few minutes, lining sunken cheeks and her forehead.
“Lira?” Eris asked. She did not mind the water soaking the hem of her dress as she crouched next to the master of flowers. “What happened? What is this storm?”
Lira stared at her, eyes changing, losing focus. “You knew.”
Eris shook her head. “I didn’t know anything.”
Lira blinked. “You knew about the storm.”
Eris considered denying it, but this was her opportunity to learn more. “I overheard Adrick last week.”
Lira sighed, took a deep shuddering breath, and sat up. Some of the strength seemed to be returning to her. Already the lines on her face faded as her skin seemed to smooth. “What did you overhear?”
There was another bright streak of lightning, followed by an explosion of thunder and then silence. The rain softened, falling in a gentle patter on the floor.
Eris swallowed. “I…I heard him talking about you,” she said carefully. “At least, I think it was you. He referred to you as a flower mage and seemed to think you were building the garden to oppose the Conclave of Magi. That you work on behalf of the north.” She watched Lira’s face but saw no reaction. “He said he was going to travel to the Svanth Forest to destroy your garden.” She said the last in a rush.
To her surprise, Lira smiled.
“Did he? Took him long enough.” She swallowed, and her eyes brightened. “He will be lucky to enter the forest, let alone destroy what grows within its boundaries.” Lira shook her head, sending droplets of water flying across the room. Outside, the storm faded, dark clouds blowing across the sky. “The Conclave will find the enchantments set along the border of the forest different than any they have ever experienced.”
Lira quickly regained her strength. Now she appeared no different than usual, if only wetter. She stayed close to the window, tilting her face to the clearing sky.
“So…you are a flower mage?” Did that mean the rest was true? Could Lira be a traitor, too?
Would her mother believe her? Would anyone?
Lira’s eyes flashed with bright energy. “A flower mage?” She said the word disdainfully. “Is that what you think, Eris Taeresin?”
Eris looked around the room, eyes touching on the vases full of flowers to the now blue sky outside the window before looking back at Lira. “I don’t know.”
“That, I think, is a wise answer.”
“Then what is this all about? What happened here?”
; Lira turned and looked out the window, inhaling deeply of the cool breeze. “A struggle happened here. Perhaps had they challenged me earlier they might have succeeded, but earlier I was no threat.”
“I don’t understand. Does my mother know? My father?” Eris edged toward the door, ready to run.
“Your parents know what they are willing to hear,” Lira answered. “Your father, in particular, finds the magi useful.”
Eris hesitated, determined to get answers. “If you’re not a flower mage, then what are you?”
“I am a gardener,” Lira finally answered. “Only, my garden was destroyed.”
“A gardener? Like Nels?”
Lira smiled slightly and nodded. “Like Nels, but not like Nels.”
“But he’s the Master Gardener,” Eris said.
Lira nodded. “And he serves your mother well.”
“Don’t you serve my mother as well?”
“I serve,” Lira said. Eris noted she didn’t say who she served. “That is the purpose of this garden.” She glanced out the window and shook her head. Sorrow lined her face. “Was the purpose.”
Eris glanced out the small window.
Below her, the garden was abuzz with activity. Gardeners hurried about, pouring water on still smoldering flames. Smoke twirled toward the sky from dozens of small fires. There were several huge black rents in the earth where lightning appeared to have struck the ground, throwing dirt and flowers around, destroying the beauty and colors in the patterns. Eris noted that much of the damage was focused at the center of the patterns laid out in the garden.
For some reason, she ached with what had been lost in the storm.
“Now that the garden is destroyed, will you be weakened?”
Lira looked at her, a strange light in her eyes. “This is not destroyed, Eris Taeresin,” she said. “I have seen gardens destroyed, gardens that once were without rival. I watched helplessly as fire and lightning rained down on those gardens and I was unable to intervene. Such beauty lost. So many flowers will never regrow, destroyed forever.” Lira sighed, her eyes taking on a faraway look. “Now what few of us remain are dispersed. I alone remain in this realm, and if the magi have their way, even I would not exist.”
Lira shook, her eyes snapping back to focus. Her lips pursed as she stared out at the garden. Already Nels had the gardeners organized, destroyed plants uprooted, and the space cleared. Eris could tell it would only be a matter of days before the garden was replanted. Within weeks, the flowers would regrow and blossom, their colors spreading.
Eris wondered what Lira held back from her. “What will you do now?”
Would Lira admit her plans? Did it matter?
Lira turned to her. “Now, Eris Taeresin? Now we return to our studies. You still have not reported to me on your flower. Such curiosity. I admit I’m pleased you’re finally showing some interest.”
There was the sound of footsteps, and Eris looked over to see her mother sweeping into the room wearing a long pale purple dress and her golden hair ran in curls down her back framing her sun darkened face. Even following a storm, she stood proud and beautiful. Behind her came a white-gowned handmaiden. To her right was a scarlet-robed magi, his hood pulled back and a strange expression twisting his face. Eris thought he was the one who came with the King and Queen from Saffra, but found it difficult to tell.
Worry etched in lines next to the queen’s eyes, and she glanced from Eris to Lira. “Lira,” she said, looking at Eris. “I received word that you were injured.”
Lira tipped her head slightly at her mother’s entrance, but Eris noted how she did not take her eyes off the magi. “Doubtful, my lady.”
“So you weren’t injured?” The queen glared at Eris.
Eris feared Lira would deny what had happened.
“I slipped, my lady,” Lira answered. “The rain came on suddenly, and I had my window open to smell the lovely flowers.”
Her mother’s face changed, an expression of sadness coming to her eyes. “A terrible loss, Lira. Especially before the wedding. I had so hoped to have beautiful arrangements prepared before the ceremony. Now I imagine it will be years before the garden is back to where you had it, and just as the colors were looking so wonderful together!”
Eris noted the soft smile tugging the magi’s mouth.
“A loss, indeed, my lady, but your master gardener does wonderful work. I suspect that the garden will be back nearly as it was within a week.”
“Truly?”
Lira nodded, tipping her head toward the magi. “The destruction provides an opportunity to try new groupings. I have wondered if a different arrangement might be more pleasing.”
Eris debated saying something about Lira. But the look on her mother’s face convinced her otherwise.
Her mother smiled at Lira. “You are always so positive, Lira.” She moved toward the window, not mindful of the water still pooled on the ground. Her handmaiden hurried behind her, grabbing at the dress and lifting it from the water. “Ah…perhaps you are right. Master Nels has already begun the preparations. I will look forward to what new arrangement you create. We are blessed to have such a wonderful mistress of flowers. The courtyard was ever so drab before you came.”
“Not drab, my lady. The flowering elms had a distinct beauty and provided such lovely shade.”
Her mother nodded. “I remember. When Hanrik and I used to sit beneath them and simply enjoy the sounds of the courtyard when first courting. A shame that the storm took them from us.”
Lira simply tilted her head.
“And fortuitous for us that you arrived when you did. Now we have color and vibrancy in our garden unlike anything else!”
“You flatter me. It is the master gardener who does the work. I simply provide guidance.”
Her mother looked at Lira and winked. “You provide more than just guidance.”
Eris tensed. Her mother knew.
The queen glanced around the room as if seeing it for the first time. And possibly, Eris realized, she was. She looked at the different arrangements set in vases, some bright with reds and blues, other arrangements more muted, before sweeping toward the arrangement on the desk. There, she gently touched the flower before leaning in and taking a deep breath.
“Wonderful,” she sighed. Her mother straightened and looked over at Lira. “A new arrangement?”
Lira tipped her head. “A demonstration.”
Her mother smiled. “How are the lessons going?”
Eris noted how she didn’t look over at her. She knew her mother was disappointed in her lack of progress and probably thought she didn’t take Lira’s lessons seriously. And truthfully, until she came across the teary star, she had not. But over the last week or so, she had devoted much of her time to finding out all she could about the flower. It wasn’t her fault none of Master Billiken’s books had any reference to her flower.
“Your daughters are doing quite well with their lessons. Jasi, in particular, has quite an eye for colors,” she said, looking over at the magi. “She will find that useful in the years to come. Especially now that she has agreed to the wedding.”
Eris heard the note of disappointment in Lira’s voice.
“And this?”
Lira nodded. “An example of her work. She has learned to take flowers, regardless of variety, and place them in such a way the colors are pleasing.”
Lira pointed to one of the smaller vases set on a low shelf. Blue lisanthis and yellow corinths circled the striped perisal at the center of the work. Eris couldn’t help but notice the colors did not seem to complement each other very well. The striped perisal, in particular, stood out, seeming to clash with the flowing lines of the lisanthis. The corinths seemed tossed in for color, ignoring the way the shape of their petals contrasted the soft curves of the lisanthis.
“A shame her lessons will end soon,” her mother said.
Lira smiled. “On the contrary. I intend to continue them after she leaves for Saffra.”
Her mother looked up, frowning deeply. “You will leave us?”
“Not leave, but I might take some time to travel. Even now, my garden is nearly complete here, and I imagine Jasi will need assistance establishing her own.”
The magi watched Lira with a dark expression. His eyes were unreadable.
Eris wondered what it meant that Lira readied Jasi for her own garden.
“You think Jasi ready to manage a garden?”
Lira nodded, eyes fixed on the magi. “Perhaps not at first. I might need to guide her, but she is quite far along in her studies. A small garden shouldn’t be too much for her to manage.”
Her mother did not seem to care. “How lovely!” she said, lifting the vase and turning it. “I knew she would have an eye for arrangement.”
Lira nodded. “Indeed she does.”
“What of the others? Desia and Ferisa continue with their studies?” Her mother looked over at Eris, disappointment clear in her tone.
“They do.”
“And how do they do? Desia tells me she enjoys her lessons. With her eye, I should think she is skilled as well.”
Eris hid a laugh behind a cough.
Lira watched her as she turned away. “They have much to learn yet. There is more to the arrangement than colors, but in time they will prove adequate, I suspect. I have examples of all their work. Each week they create a new project to demonstrate what they have learned.”
Her mother looked at the vases on the low shelf, a slight smile turning the corners of her mouth. “And Ferisa?”
“She does quite well,” Lira said. She stepped next to the queen and pulled a tall, thin ceramic vase off one of the low shelves. A collection of lilies and green leaves seemed almost tossed into the vase, but there seemed to be some semblance of pattern to the flowers that Eris could almost see. Of the vases made by her sisters, Ferisa seemed to have the most order though lacked in creativity.
The Lost Garden: The Complete Series Page 9