by Erin Rhew
Iris led the group to a small, wooden house, deep within another section of woods. They’d passed a huge lake on the way in, but Layla noted no other signs of life as they walked. Beside her, Wil surveyed the area with just as much care as she had.
He leaned in closer. “I believe we’re walking farther away from the Outlands.”
“I agree.”
“Do you think she’s leading us to a trap?”
Layla bit her lip. “Anything is possible, but I don’t think so. If the queen’s guard meant to intercept us, as Iris indicated, we’re heading farther and farther away from them.”
“Since we passed that lake, I’ve noticed these little bushes all along the way.” He pointed. The leaves matched the ones Iris asked them to ingest prior to their journey.
“Iris called them marjoram leaves.”
Wil nodded. “What are they, and why did we have to eat one?”
“I have no idea.”
“Welcome to my home.” Iris turned and smiled, gesturing for them to enter. Her hard, cold features softened, sweet and welcoming. Wil started to enter the home first, but Samson pushed his way in front. With impulsivity, he barged into the house, sword first.
He poked his head back out. “There’s just some old lady in here. It’s safe.”
Layla rolled her eyes as she followed Wil inside. As Samson mentioned, a woman sat beside a steaming bowl. Strange scents permeated the room.
“This old woman is Jule.” Iris closed the door behind her.
Jule rose, beaming. She walked straight to Layla and wrapped her in a hug. Surprised and uncertain, Layla froze.
“I’ve waited so long to see your face.”
Layla stepped back. The woman did not look familiar. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“Jule, please.” Iris untangled the woman and led her back to her seat. She motioned to the chairs around her. “Please everyone, take a seat. We have so much to tell you.”
Layla counted eight chairs, the exact number of people in the room. She shot Wil a concerned look. He stepped closer and pulled her toward two seats placed side by side. Grabbing her hand, he squeezed once before letting go.
Wil bent down to whisper in her ear, “What is it?” Her face grew warm from such close proximity to him.
She pushed her confusing feelings aside to focus on the current situation before them. “There are eight chairs, and there are eight of us in this room. It’s like they knew we were coming.”
“Iris, you promised to answer all of our questions if we ate the marjoram.” Wil’s voice rang out strong and clear as he addressed the group.
“I did. Ask whatever you like. We are safe here with the marjoram running through our veins, blocking the door, and wafting in the air.”
Layla jumped in, “Tell us first why you have exactly eight chairs in this room.”
“That’s simple.” As Jule spoke, she watched Layla with scrutiny. “We knew you were coming.”
“How?” Vespa asked.
Iris nodded toward the door. “We have friends over in the castle. They provide us information.”
“But how did your friends know we were coming?” Grant’s brow furrowed.
“The queen mentioned it. Our friends pretend to serve her but really serve The Resistance.”
Will leaned forward, interest written all over his face. “The Resistance?”
“There are those of us who do not appreciate the tyrannical rule of the queen. We wish to have different lives in the Outlands. Free from fear of the queen and those loyal to her.” Iris glanced at Mia.
Layla leaned over to Wil and whispered so no one else could hear, “Did you see that?”
He nodded. “She looked at Mia when she mentioned those loyal to the queen.”
“What should we do?”
“For now, nothing. We’ll gather more information and decide what to do with Mia then.”
Layla ground her teeth, unhappy to delay action. But she found no fault with Wil’s thinking, so she relented.
She turned her attention back to Iris and Jule. “How did the queen know we were coming?”
“The queen can see the actions of her subjects if they are close enough to the Outlands and do not take marjoram.” Jule spoke in a soft lilt. Her calm, warm demeanor endeared her to Layla.
“So we took the marjoram to hide from the queen?” Though Wil asked the question to Iris and Jule, his gaze never left Layla.
Iris shook her head. “The queen cannot see those who take marjoram, but the effects wear off quickly. Hanging the plant in the doorway and burning it in the house keeps us hidden from her sight. We live near the lake as well. Large bodies of water also interfere with her abilities. We’ve learned these tricks through many years of trial and error, with many lives lost as a result.”
“Do all Outlanders have this ability to see others?” Layla voiced the question plaguing her since discovering the truth about the First Ones and their children.
Jule wiped at her eye and cleared her throat. “No, just the queen. She can only see her subjects though and only within a limited distance from the Outlands. Cataleen knew you were here the moment you set foot in the forest.”
“Then why did we all have to take the marjoram?” Grant studied them. Layla knew him well enough to see his mind calculating the likelihood they posed a threat.
“A precaution.” Iris stayed calm and collected despite the scrutiny.
“A necessary precaution,” Jule injected. “After all, you are traveling with two Outlanders.”
Layla frowned. “Two? Only Mia is an Outlander, as we recently discovered.” Her purple eyes connected with the only other set of purple eyes in the room. Mia looked away, her lips in a thin line.
“No, you have two in your group. One full Outlander and one half Outlander to be exact.” Jule smiled. “You are part Outlander, Layla.”
“What? How is that possible?” Layla rose, knocking over her seat. Wil jumped up to stand beside her. He placed a steadying hand on the small of her back.
“Layla.” Iris stood as well and walked toward Layla with outstretched hands. “You are my sister.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Layla
Everyone jumped up and started talking at once. Iris came forward, her hands reaching to embrace Layla. Layla’s knees buckled, but Wil’s arm wrapped around her waist to steady her. Regaining her footing, she slipped out of his embrace and headed for the door.
“Layla!” Wil and Iris called her name at the same time, but she kept going.
She burst through the door, slipped under the hanging marjoram, and ran toward the lake as fast as her legs would carry her. Iris’ declaration unhinged her. She’d known about her adoption all her life. Lia and Jensen had never hidden the fact she showed up on their door right after Samson’s birth, but she always believed herself to be a Vanguard. She possessed the strength, the impulsivity, and the quick temper of her people but showed no other special abilities. Did she? How could she know for sure since the Outlander power still remained a mystery to her?
She skidded to a halt and sat down by the shore of the lake. Iris lied. Like Mia, the other Outlanders spun tales to ensnare them all in a sick, twisted game. She accepted that explanation better than the one Iris offered.
Layla heard footsteps coming up behind her. “Go away.” She knew that reckless gait anywhere.
Samson plopped down beside her, a fist full of leaves in his hand. “So, there was a short discussion, and I got stuck with the job of chasing you.”
“How unfortunate for you.”
He snorted. “Actually, I’m glad. That marjoram stuff stinks. What kind of creepy people were you born into? I mean, I’ve always know you were weird, but—”
“Shut up, Samson.”
He placed a leaf on her outstretched legs. “Look, the old lady says you have to eat one of these or the Outlander queen might find you.”
“I’m near the water. They said the water interfered.”
“
Still, I think you should eat it. Just in case.”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “You think I’m an Outlander?”
“I don’t think much about anything.” He grinned and ate a leaf. “But I’m going to eat these leaves just in case, since they taste pretty good and didn’t kill us the first time.”
Sighing, she picked up the leaf and ate it. “You know, Jule isn’t that old. She’s probably Mother’s age. You should stop calling her old lady.”
Samson leaned back on his elbows. “Mother is old.”
“I’ll tell her you said that.”
His brown eyes widened. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Layla laughed at the genuine fear on his face. “So, not too old to scare you then, huh?” She propped herself upon her elbows, copying his position.
The corner of his mouth quirked up, but he didn’t answer. For a while, they sat in companionable silence. The trees rustled behind them, frogs sang from within the lake, and bugs zipped around them. Despite her inner turmoil, the world around Layla radiated peace. Could a warmongering queen be just a few paces away with Nash as her captive. Nash.
She gathered her legs in a squat and moved to stand. As much as she’d like to sit around and ponder this strange predicament, Nash waited for them to rescue him. Samson grabbed her hand and yanked her back down. Her bottom smashed into the grass.
“Ow!” She whacked him on the arm.
“Don’t think you’re just walking away from me.”
She started to rise again. “Nash needs to be rescued.”
Samson shoved her to the ground. “You need to deal with what Iris said, or you’ll be no good in battle. I’ve seen you fight when you’re distracted, and well, it’s not your best work.” He moved around to squat in front of her. “We’re going to talk about what Iris said even if I have to sit on you to do it.”
“You’re so annoying.” She ground her teeth.
“I always have been. Tell me something I don’t know. What do you think?”
She shifted her gaze around him, toward the lake. “About what?”
“Really? If you’re that worried about Nash, you can drop the coyness and speak plainly. Otherwise, we’ll be here forever.”
She frowned and opened her mouth to give him a sarcastic retort, but his concern stopped her. “Back in the woods, I trusted Iris, though I had no reason to do so. I felt a connection to her.”
Samson tapped his chin. “You think it means she’s your sister?”
“I don’t know what it means. It may not mean anything.”
He took her hand. “Layla, I think you should go back and listen to what they have to say. You’ve never talked much about it, but you must have wondered about your parents. If what Iris says is true, you may finally have some answers.”
“Oh Samson, you run off and follow your heart all the time, and your head catches up later. I can’t lead us into a trap. What if Iris and Jule aren’t who they say they are?”
“But what if they are.”
“We could play this game all day.”
“We could. Or, we could go back and hear what they have to say.” He handed her another leaf. “Eat this. The last thing we need is that crazy queen discovering the location of the Fulfillment.”
“I thought you believed Mia was the Fulfillment.” She raised her eyebrows.
His chin dipped down, his gaze focused on the ground. “Turns out everyone was right about her. Another ‘Samson followed his heart and his head caught up later’ situation, I guess.”
Layla squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry.”
“Let’s go back.” He stood, pulling her up with him. “If nothing else, we’ll find out more information about the Outlander process.”
They walked back toward Iris’ in silence. Wil leaned against the side of the house, his gaze searching the horizon. When it landed upon her, he broke out into a wide grin.
“He loves you, you know.” Samson bumped her with his hip.
“I know.”
Wil waved and joined them for the rest of the walk. “Are you okay?”
“I’ll, uh, see you inside.” Samson moseyed toward the open door.
Layla stopped walking. “I don’t know if I should believe Iris. So far, all the encounters we’ve had with Outlanders have been disastrous. The queen kidnapped Nash and Samson and held them in a dungeon. She’s plotting with Vance to attack your kingdom, Wil. Mia is lying and deceitful. There is no way we can trust her. If they are typical Outlanders, I want nothing to do with them.”
“Are you afraid Iris is lying, or are you afraid she’s telling the truth? Do you not want to be an Outlander?”
She considered the question while nosing a rock with the tip of her boot. As always, he reached into her core and challenged her. “My adoptive parents welcomed me into their home and loved me like they had birthed me. But a part of me always wondered where I came from. As I developed and honed my powers, I took comfort in being a Vanguard. If I couldn’t be related to my family by blood, at least I still belonged. Then Werrick proclaimed me the Fulfillment, and I fit in nowhere. Not truly Vanguard, not truly Ethereal, not anything. But you, Vespa, and Nash accepted me anyway. Again, I thought I found a place to be, a place to fit in. And now…Iris…”
Wil placed gentle hands on her shoulders and turned her around to face him. He gazed down at her with open adoration. “Layla, there is no one like you. I know that seems lonely, but you’re not alone. You’re never alone. In fact, you bring nations together.” He gestured toward Iris’ humble dwelling. “Inside that house sit Ethereals, Vanguards, and Outlanders who are willing to work together, and you managed to get a Volton to reveal crucial information. I know you struggle with your identity, with whether or not you are the Fulfillment, but you are, Layla. You don’t belong in just one place, you belong in them all.”
His words sank into her heart, planting a small seed of hope. She brushed her fingers against his arm. “Thank you.”
Before Layla could say more, Iris appeared in the doorway.
Wil glanced between the two women. “Do you want to talk to her, Layla?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Do you need me to stay?”
“Thank you, but no.” She flashed him a grateful smile.
He smoothed down the side of her hair and kissed her temple before going back inside. As he passed Iris, he nodded in what Layla took to be a sign of respect. Iris returned the gesture, bowing a bit lower to acknowledge his position as king. Even here, where he held no real power and might even be viewed as an enemy, Wil earned respect. Layla marveled at his goodness, his kindness, all the things that made him a great man and noble king.
Iris hesitated once she reached Layla. A nervous laugh escaped her lips. “I always imagined the moment I’d meet you. I envisioned saying the words ‘You’re my sister’ a thousand different times. In my mind, you hugged me, and we cried. That’ll teach me to plan someone else’s reaction.”
Layla crinkled her face. “Iris, I’m sorry I didn’t react as you’d hoped. I really am. But I’m still not sure I believe you. The only two Outlanders I know about—your queen and Mia—have done nothing but lie and bring havoc upon those I love. I can’t exactly take you at your word.”
Iris nodded. “I understand.” She opened her mouth several times and closed it before speaking again. “Do you want to hear about our mother? I’d like to tell you her story. You don’t have to believe me, but I’ve always wanted you to know the truth about your origins.”
“I want everyone else to hear this.”
“Of course. It’s safer inside the house anyway.”
Layla followed Iris back into the house. The moment he saw her enter, Wil stood. He stayed by his seat, though his features colored as if he longed to rush to her side. She gave him a wan smile before taking her seat.
“What can I do to help you?” His breath tickled her ear.
“Help me remember what she says. Help me dissect every word so we can decip
her the truth from the lies.”
“I will.”
Vespa, Grant, and Samson watched Layla, their expressions encouraging. She appreciated their support. Wil’s words—that she belonged everywhere—echoed inside her head. Though she belonged to no one kingdom, she found her home in the people around her, whether related by blood or not.
“Iris, please start at the beginning,” Wil said.
The Outlander took a deep breath. “When I said we’re sisters, I should have clarified. We’re half-sisters, Layla. My father died when I was young, and I never even met your father.”
“Wait.” Layla put up a hand as Iris opened her mouth to say more. “Tell me this one thing before we start.”
“Anything.”
Layla shifted in her seat until she faced Jule. “Are you Iris’ mother…my mother?” She tested the words out on her tongue. To call anyone but Lia “mother” felt both strange and disloyal. Of all the questions occupying her mind, this inquiry emerged victorious, fighting through the others to reach the top.
Jule’s head dropped. “No.”
Layla nodded. Though she felt tempted to throw out question after question, bombarding them with her compulsion for answers, she simply said, “Okay then. Tell me the story.”
Iris inhaled and blew it out at a measured pace. “Our mother’s name was Daria. She had the most beautiful auburn hair, and green eyes that danced when she laughed. She loved my father very much, but he died young in service to the queen—not our current queen, Cataleen, but the queen before her, Luna.”
When Wil offered a soft heartfelt “I’m so sorry” to Iris for the death of her father, Layla once again felt grateful for his constant poise. She’d only seen Wil come apart twice, and both times she had been the root.
Jule picked up the story. “I am not your mother, Layla, but I was her best friend. When her husband, Oren, died, she took a job with the queen. I begged her not to since Oren lost his life in Luna’s service, but she needed to provide for herself and Iris. Iris was about four at the time. Always smart and competent, your mother rose quickly in the ranks until she received a promotion into the queen’s guard. Her first mission took her away from the Outlands and into Vanguard. Like me, Daria grew up in the Outlands. She’d never set foot beyond its borders until Luna ordered her to spy on a Vanguard soldier, King Rex’s closest friend and confidant.“The Outlanders spy on us?” Grant asked. “How?”