Order of the Lily

by Cait Ashwood

  Zeche shrugged. “I need someone with Seeker capabilities, and I need them unspoiled by outside views of the world. The only one meeting that requirement is Rowan.”

  “You want us to repay your services…with a human being? And my son, specifically?” Audrey shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest. There was no way any of that was happening.

  “He’s the only reward I’ll accept.” Zeche raised an eyebrow at her, waiting for her response.

  I’m starting to think Nikita is the reasonable one.

  “Seems to me it would be much easier for us to just kill you now. My son isn’t going anywhere.”

  Audrey’s mouth fell open as she stared at Ace. Isn’t that a bit…extreme?

  Zeche shrugged one shoulder, his accent getting thicker. “Well, you could, I suppose. Though with so many of my people on your walls, and Nikita aware of my trip, I might not recommend it.”

  Hound shifted at her side, his lips pressed thin. “Do I take it to understand you’re threatening open war with the Ravens?”

  Zeche smirked. “That is a possibility, yes.”

  Audrey was sure she could hear a pin drop, if someone happened to drop one. “There has to be something else you want. Anything.” Rowan had been evacuated with the other children, and Audrey was torn between wanting to hold him close, and being able to deny knowing where he was.

  Zeche’s expression finally softened. “I want to make sure that none of this can happen again. I want to safeguard our future from Zaddicus and men like him.” He paused, eyes flicking to Ace. “Your son will be the first of many that guards your way of life, silently, from the shadows. A Watcher.”

  Audrey bit her lower lip. She’d spent a lot of time lately trying to figure out how to safeguard the women under her care, not only now, but for the future. Was a separate sect really the answer? Her mind drifted to the Templars, those enigmatic guardians that, to her own day, no one was entirely sure of their purpose. Did they guard the progeny of Jesus, or merely the children of important rulers? To be so secretive, so untouchable, that had been their strength. The Ravens were too obvious, as were the Seekers.

  But this was her son. Her first-born miracle, the life she’d never expected to carry. What kind of future was worth losing him? Lily would never have a choice as to what she would become, what would be expected of her, the duties that would be laid at her feet. Audrey’s one consolation had been that Rowan would be free to choose. He would grow up to be his own man, making his own choices, forging his own destiny. If she allowed Zeche to take him, that, too, would be gone.

  “You’re not honestly considering this?”

  Audrey looked up, startled to see Ace so close. She steeled herself. “I am a leader. I have to consider all choices available to me.” Cool, rational logic flowed into her. A war with the Ravens would decimate what little they had left in the way of numbers. The Seekers, who had numbered over five hundred at her arrival, now held less than a hundred men in their ranks. Right now, Zeche was asking for one baby, her son. If they came to blows over it? He might take every male child in the tower. The Seekers’ numbers would continue to dwindle, and there would be no men of the bloodline left for their daughters. They’d spend generations trying to add the strength back to their lines. Adding to that that, through Rowan, Zeche would be establishing a sect that would guard them from the shadows, eliminating threats before they had a chance to rear their heads. No matter how much she wanted to cling to her son, it wasn’t the right answer.

  The women in this tower had lost enough. Approval flooded her and she glanced at Hound. His face was carefully schooled, but he nodded his head at her ever so slightly. Audrey took a deep breath, touching the shoulders of two of the women pointing swords at Zeche’s throat. They moved aside, letting her through to him.

  Dark brown eyes the color of fertile soil bored into her own. He said nothing, waiting for her to speak.

  “If I do this, if I agree…” she paused, swallowing back the grief that was already waiting to overwhelm her, “know that I place his welfare in your hands. If anything happens to him outside the course of his duties…” She couldn’t even finish the threat. Rowan’s cheerful smile swam in front of her eyes, with that one little tooth breaking through on the bottom. He had her eyes, a bit bluer, perhaps, and the thought that she’d never see his chubby little cheeks cracking into a smile again stole the breath from her.

  A hand at the small of her back steadied her. It only made sense that Hound knew she was dangerously close to losing it.

  “Will I ever see him again?” Her voice cracked and she bit her first, determined not to fall apart. This was the right answer, logic proved that, but he was her son.

  “That…is largely up to you. He will not know you as his mother, that much is necessary. Keep to those terms, and yes, he will know you.”

  The sob broke through, despite her efforts. She turned, burying her face in Hound’s chest. He wasn’t even gone yet, and already she mourned him.

  “Don’t I get a say in this?” Ace sounded equally angry and defeated, pushing through the guards to join them.

  Audrey turned just enough so that she could see him out of one eye, still clinging to Hound for dear life. “Do you have the troops to wipe out the Ravens? Do you have the men to establish these Watchers Zeche has suggested? His reasoning is sound.” And somehow, the thought that her son would be out there in the wide world, protecting his sister and dedicating his life to them, made the loss seem less. He may not know who they were, but he would still be with them, still connected.

  Ace didn’t answer; he didn’t have to. They both knew the truth without him saying a word. The floor creaked as Ace stalked closer to the assassin. Audrey heard faint whispers from both men, but couldn’t make them out. She heard him step back, his message delivered.

  “If anything happens to you, or if things don’t go the way you plan them, he comes back to us. The Ravens don’t own him, nor do these Watchers of yours. Before anything else…he’s our son.” Ace’s voice cracked, now, and when Audrey peeked at him, his hands were clenched into fists at his side.

  Zeche dipped his head, his hand over his heart. His eyes flicked to Audrey and she shuddered. Hound wrapped her up tighter in his arms, resting his chin on her head.

  “He will take an oath when he comes of age, voluntarily. When he does, he will learn his lineage.”

  Audrey swallowed. “And if he doesn’t?”

  Zeche’s gaze switched to Ace. “Then he will be returned here, as you say.”

  The assassin’s attention shifted to the doorway, where Nikita stalked through on silent feet, her leather outfit somehow noiseless as she moved. In her arms was Rowan, looking happy as could be.

  A whimper stole through Audrey. Whether they’d agreed or not, Zeche had already secured his prize without bloodshed. That she got to see him one last time was likely only because she’d agreed. She could have lost her son without even having a chance to say goodbye.

  No one stopped her as she ran to him, taking him from Nikita without a word to the woman, and cradling him to her chest. Her tears ran down her face and wet his hair, but she couldn’t stop. She buried her nose in the corner of his neck, inhaling his clean baby scent one last time. She was barely aware of Ace taking him from her, or Hound wrapping her up in his arms again. The next thing she knew, she was being set down gently in her bed, sobs still wracking her body. Her skin felt cold to the touch and as her body wept itself into exhaustion, she wished that, once sleep claimed her, she wouldn’t wake again.

  31

  Four months later.

  The spring equinox was fast approaching, and with it, Audrey was pouring over all the harvest records from the fall. She kept a hand pressed against her back, the pressure doing little to alleviate the back labor she’d been suffering for the past three days. Winter had been much busier than she’d ever expected. Amberfoot’s farmers came up with a brilliant idea that the Seekers had been only too eager to impleme
nt.

  A new farming settlement had been established in the northern hemisphere. Crops would be grown and imported year-round now, as they’d have a growing season available all year. The Order had worked nearly nonstop the entire winter, the thirty-plus women making venture after venture to the new settlement, working to purify first the land and then to establish a Grove. It was exhausting work, and Audrey had ordered ten-woman teams to work on a three-day rotating schedule to keep them energized enough to make a difference. The first shipment of fresh food in the middle of winter made the grueling hours worth it.

  Deaths from starvation were down to the lowest numbers since the Order had vanished. Illness and accidents were now the leading causes of death. While it was a relief, it also created a fair bit of pressure. People were looking forward to starting families now, and that meant the Order had to not only keep up their current efforts, but be willing to expand them. They didn’t have the numbers to allow for much growth, but convincing the civilians to hold off a few years before trying for an explosive population growth wasn’t meeting with much success. They’d need the new settlement, and perhaps more, to make it through the next few years.

  Audrey looked down at her swollen belly, running a hand over it as the baby kicked. She was nearly as big as she’d been with the twins, but at thirty-nine weeks, she was more than ready for her little one to come out into the world. She could only pray that she’d be able to keep this one safe.

  Hound appeared on their balcony, stomping snow off his boots and shaking himself like a bear. Audrey smiled up at him, the reports forgotten. With their misunderstandings out of the way, they’d begun a tentative relationship that had slowly improved over the intervening months. Rowan’s loss had wounded her deeply, and Hound made himself the glue she used to put herself back together. As much as any mother could pretend to be whole after the loss of her son, anyway. He’s not dead. The litany was familiar by now, but it never made a dent in the pain.

  Hound came into the room, bringing a wave of cold air with him before closing the door to their balcony. He hung his snow-frosted jacket on the rack near the door and paused to warm his hands in front of the fire before making his way to her.

  He leaned down, giving her a kiss. “I know how you hate my cold hands.” He gave her a faint smile, his eyes flicking over the reports on the table.

  “I know you said no more working, but—”

  Hound rolled his eyes. “Just promise me you’ll pay enough attention to our baby being born. You try working through that, and we’re gonna have a talk.” He was teasing her, but had a good point. Throwing herself into her duties was the only way she could stand to get up in the morning, and the only thing that kept her on her feet until she collapsed into her bed at night.

  “I think I’m done for today.” She’d lost track of what she was supposed to be figuring out, anyway. Harvests had been decent, but people were always going to want more. The trick was figuring out where that ‘more’ should happen.

  “Good. Dinner?” Hound had taken to fetching food from the kitchens on the first floor if she was in their quarters, all the way on the lofty sixth floor. That was a lot of stairs to struggle up and down when you couldn’t see your feet.

  “Nah, not really hungry. Help yourself, though.” She knew he was starving. He was helping ferry women to and from the northern continent most of the day, and there was plenty of backbreaking work to do there, too. While carpenters and architects were in charge, a hale set of arms was still a set that was going to be put to work. She’d been surprised at first to see Hound putting on muscle, but good food and a heavy workout regimen would do that to a body. Besides, it wasn’t like she was complaining.

  Hound arched an eyebrow at her. “You? Not hungry? Since when?” His eyes darted to the door, and between that and the mark, she knew he wanted to call for a medic.

  “I’m fine, honest. Just tired.” She yawned, as if her body felt like accentuating the point.

  “Well, let’s get you to bed then.” He offered her his hand, but she shook her head.

  “Too restless to lay down.”

  Hound stared at her, frowning so deeply the creases on his forehead threw their own shadows. He’d been giving her lots of those looks in the months since Rowan was taken. “I’m lost. What do I do, here?”

  She gave him a wan smile, feeling the fake effort on her face before letting it fall, too tired to try. “Some water would be nice.”

  Hound nodded and turned, heading toward the table near the door where a water pitcher was kept. She watched him pour, finally feeling a bit of peace. It was hard for her to calm down on her own, but Hound was a balm to her battered spirit. He gave her the courage to keep going, as tireless as he was when it came to working towards a future the world could live with.

  The contraction hit while he was still pouring, and she was marginally aware of water spilling on the floor as she gasped, crunching herself up in the chair involuntarily. She panted in the aftermath, looking up to see Hound staring at her, a hand pressed to his gut.

  “Midwife?” The word was strained, and suddenly Audrey realized that the pain was great enough to travel through the mark and hit him, too.

  She nodded stiffly. “Then leave. You’ll know when it’s over.”

  He looked like he wanted to argue, then shook his head. “I won’t be far.”

  “Go.”

  Two more contractions hit before Gwyn swept into the room, followed by a midwife Audrey hadn’t met yet. Amelina and Josie came in after them, closing the door behind them.

  Audrey’s eyes skimmed over the group. “What are you all doing here?”

  The midwife approached with the calmness her ilk tended to radiate. “Births of the First are always witnessed, my Lady.”

  Amelina chuckled, hand resting on her own belly that was just starting to show.

  “Laugh while you can. You’re a First, too,” Audrey groaned out before focusing on her breathing.

  “Guess I lucked out on that one.” Gwyn smiled, preparing the bin of clean rags for the birth. She’d given birth to a son a few weeks ago. They’d named him Jasper, Quad’s given name before he’d surrendered it to join the Seekers.

  Amelina tidied up the rest of the room as Audrey submitted to the midwife’s exam.

  “Ah, this little one has decided it’s their time, all right.” The midwife chuckled, helping Audrey get comfortable on the edge of the bed.

  “Coming fast?” Gwyn perked up from across the room and headed over, bringing the clamps and other necessary tools with her.

  “Mmhmm,” the midwife commented.

  Audrey was soon enough in the thick of the labor, too consumed to have much thought for anything else. With a final, massive push, the pressure eased. The next few seconds were damned near impossible to stand, until she heard her baby’s first cry. Only then did she let her head drop against the pillow, exhausted. It had all happened so fast, it caught her off guard.

  “Oh, she’s a beauty.” Amelina peered over the midwife’s shoulder, crooning at the little one.

  She? Another girl. Another child with a destiny not of her choosing. Audrey was too tired to hold back the tears, hopeful that the women in the room would assume they were happy tears. When the little one was finally brought to her, Audrey was afraid to take her. She’d already failed one child so horribly. What made her think she was fit to be a mother, again?

  Gwyn’s eyes were dark and knowing as she caught Audrey’s gaze. “She’s a new chance, Audrey.”

  Audrey nodded. She knew that, of course.

  Gwyn moved closer, wiping a cool rag over Audrey’s brow. “Don’t let your fear of the past taint her future.”

  With shaking hands, Audrey reached for her daughter. Amelina hadn’t been joking. The girl had jet black hair, and the most adorable nose.

  “Can we let him in, now?” Amelina stood near the door, a smile on her face.

  Only one him she’d be referring to. Audrey nodded, her eyes stu
dying the face of her new little girl.

  Hound stood framed in the doorway for a moment, looking about how Audrey imagined she did. His hair was standing on end from too much tugging, and he had hollow pouches under his eyes. None of that mattered, though, when his eyes landed on hers. He rushed into the room as fast as his tired feet would take him, Audrey feeling his exhaustion on top of her own.

  He ignored the baby, instead placing a kiss on Audrey’s brow. “You did it.” Awe permeated his voice, and she couldn’t help but chuckle.

  “We did it.” She smiled, her blink taking a bit too long before she could open her eyes again. “Want to hold her?”

  Hound’s mouth fell open. “It’s a girl?”

  Audrey didn’t answer him, just grinned and held her out for her daddy.

  Hound took her as delicately as he would a china doll, curling her protectively into his chest. “She’s so little.”

  The midwife raised an eyebrow. “She’s rather large for a newborn.”

  Hound didn’t bother answering her, his eyes glued to his daughter. “She looks just like Brana did when she was born.” He smiled at her, barely taking his eyes off her to glance at Audrey. “What should we call her?” She had his little finger in a death grip as she turned her face into his chest, her instinct to root already displaying itself. Hound caught on and brought her back to her momma.

  Audrey laid her on her chest, playing with the smattering of black hair on her head. “Brana is a beautiful name.”

  Hound frowned, looking at her with a narrow gaze. “I wouldn’t want to curse our daughter with that name.”

  “How is it a curse? It’s a strong name.” Audrey kept her tone sympathetic, but was surprised at his reaction.

  “It wasn’t strong enough for her.” He muttered the words, eyes still on the little one.

  “Lucky for her, she’ll have an entire world out here fighting to keep her safe.” Audrey reached a hand out, taking Hound’s hand in her own.

  Hound stared at her, taking a deep breath. “Defender of glory.” He shook his head, a smile slowly growing on his lips. “Welcome back to the world, little Brana.”