Children of the Lily (Order of the Lily Book 3)

by Cait Ashwood

  Zeche’s shadow moved behind him and the man circled around to face him. “Thing is, you knew something when we pointed out his location on that map. Something you refused to tell us. He has Lily. We need to know whatever it is if we’re going to have a chance at getting her back.”

  I took an oath. Even for Lily, I... can’t. “The location seemed unsuitable for the sustenance of a large group. His previous behavior patterns lead me to believe that he was gearing up for something else, called his experiences a ‘trial.’” He glowered at Zeche, daring him to speak against him.

  Jasper spoke next, with a surprising venom in his tone for a youth usually so level-headed. “Deuce, your reaction didn’t just fit surprise. We know how to read people, all of us do, and we all saw the same thing. Whatever it is you think you’re protecting, I just hope it’s worth protecting at my sister’s expense.” He stormed off, Rowan staring at him open-mouthed as he left.

  The words stung, but he deserved them. “If there’s nothing else--” he trailed off, eyes on Zeche.

  The man’s brows drew together. “I was hoping you were going to help us the easy way.” He nodded at Rowan, and Deuce had been around men in command long enough to recognize the move for what it was: an order.

  His hand twitched at his side, desperate for a blade. The one good side to being a medic was you knew just where to strike. With Rowan still recovering from his wounds, he’d be easy to overpower.

  “Woah, guys, what’s going on here? This doesn’t seem too friendly.”

  I’ve never been happier to hear your voice in my life, Ace. Deuce turned, giving his old friend a one-shouldered shrug. “They were hoping I knew something about Zaddicus’ plans. I hear he moved on you.”

  “Can’t find the bastard anywhere. Nothing but dead ends and new cave-ins, likely blocking the tunnels they used to leave the area. It’ll take months to move all that stone.” His eyes were drawn and dark with bags under them. Lily, his first daughter, was further from their reach than ever.

  I’m sorry, my friend. I’m so sorry.

  “Commander, uh, Father?” Rowan seemed hesitant to address him.

  That’s interesting. Have they never met?

  “Rowan.” Ace’s smile was warm, even if his voice was weary.

  Rowan glared at Deuce. “He knows something he’s just not telling us. When we showed him the location of Zad’s lair, he reacted. The eyes don’t lie, not when it comes to dilation.”

  Ace stared at his estranged son for a long, tense moment. His eyes reluctantly found Deuce’s own, the green depths conflicted. “You suffered a great deal under Zaddicus. I would think if you knew any way to save my daughter from that fate, you’d speak up. Am I wrong?”

  The doubt nearly crippled him. Ace had been the boy that found him in a field, weak from hunger and nearly dead from dehydration. His mother had helped raise them. If there was one person in the world that he owed his life to, it was Ace. He chose his words carefully, refusing to lie to him. “If I knew where she was, you’d be the first person I’d tell.”

  Ace nodded, relief crossing his features. “Then that settles it. I know we’re desperate for a lead, but harassing our own men isn’t going to get us anywhere. Are we clear, Zeche?” Ace’s tone turned icy toward the end. It was obvious the man still held one hell of a grudge, and Deuce couldn’t blame him.

  “Crystal.” Zeche caved with far too little argument and Deuce eyed him suspiciously, but the Watcher collected Rowan and the pair left without a backward glance.

  Ace began making his way up to the tower but turned with his foot on the first step. “Let me know if they bother you again. I’d never doubt your loyalty.”

  His throat clenched and he wasn’t sure he could speak, so he gave a sharp nod. It seemed to be enough for Ace, who continued his ascent up the steps of the Tower.

  I’m loyal to a fault. Deuce made his way to his quarters, relieved to find them empty. He took his time starting a fire. Spring was in its early stages, and the nights were still quite cold. The girls would complain if their suite was too chilly, and it gave him something to do.

  In all his years, he’d never had reason to question his ability to keep an oath. He’d never been tempted to break one before now and would have been content to never be put in this situation. It’s not like I know her location, but if Zaddicus has given up all thoughts of conquest on the surface, there’s only one other target that would make sense. But he was an exile, sworn to secrecy on pain of death. It wasn’t that dying frightened him that much. He’d watched many men pass on, and only a few of them had actually hurt him. For a man like him, his word was his bond. He never broke his word; it was the cornerstone of his personality.

  Other men might question the validity of an oath made at the tender age of eight. A child couldn’t possibly know the implications of such an oath. The arguments were valid but in the end meaningless. Whether he’d known the position it would put him in or not, he had sworn that oath.

  The pain in Ace’s eyes came back to him, haunting, dogging his thoughts. If they uncover anything that leads us to believe that she’s been taken there, I’ll speak up. Until he had evidence that pointed that way, however, he would keep his silence. If he was to become an oath breaker, he wanted to be damned sure it was worth the loss of all that he stood for. That, and the knowledge he possessed could lose him so much more than his honor.

  Once the Seekers knew the secret he kept, he might never see his daughters again.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Stryker paused at the door to the chamber his father had claimed as his own. Two men stood guard outside the doors, pikes crossed to bar unauthorized entry. He sends for me and then bars my path. I don’t understand. His father hadn’t liked the decisions he’d made while in command, but he hadn’t expected formal action before the men. Zaddicus was always scrupulously careful when it came to their appearances before the troops. What message was he sending to them now?

  The men suddenly uncrossed their pikes and snapped to attention. Stryker stared at them suspiciously, first one, then the other, before hesitantly moving forward. His father had done little but express disdain for him and had completely left him out of any plans once they took the city. It had been three days, three days that were much harder for the loss of the guards. Not only did Zaddicus have them slaughtered in cold blood, but he’d then used their corpses to feed their mounts. The families of the deceased had lost their loved ones and been denied the ability to send them into the next life with honor.

  Zaddicus had lost their hearts before he’d even begun, but he hadn’t been the one to deal with that. No, it was Stryker they attacked in the streets, Stryker’s hand who was forced to send more of them to their graves for the crime of lashing out. Stryker had come here under the belief that they were liberating the people, that they were improving lives. All they’d done was enslave them again.

  No wonder father is disappointed with me. I fell for the worst deception of all: his. The fight had all but left him. He killed in the streets because it was kill or be killed. He acted on his father’s orders because he had no other choice. While Vex thrived in this situation, he suffocated, and Zad knew it. There was no more acting. His father saw him clearly and apparently had all along.

  He passed between the guards, who made no further attempts to halt his progress. They did not open the doors for him, so he did it himself. They moved easily on their hinges and Stryker unintentionally pushed them much too hard for their weight. They banged off the stone walls and he had to push them open again to keep them from slamming in his face. He turned and pushed them gently closed.

  “Father,” he said, dipping into a curt bow before moving to parade rest.

  Zaddicus was writing something and didn’t even look up at him. “You’re to return to our old quarters and retrieve the Surfacer bitch. I have plans for her.”

  He swallowed hard. “Anything else, sir?”

  Zad’s quill paused. “Since you are incapab
le of understanding your basic purpose, yes. If you see an enemy, you kill them. You do not barricade them, you do not use them as messengers, and you certainly do not bed them. Am I clear?”

  Stryker winced at the rebuke. He thought his life during training was hard, but was beginning to get a glimpse of what his new life was going to be, and he didn’t like the direction it was going. “Yes, sir.”

  “Get out of my sight, then.”

  He gave a stiff bow and left the room, leaving the doors open behind him. It was the closest he could come to outright disrespecting his father and manage to keep his head on his neck at the same time. I didn’t make a bad call. If those men were still alive, the population wouldn’t be fighting us in the streets. Just this morning we stopped someone from poisoning the well. They’re willing to die, as long as they take us with them.

  He packed for the journey, fuming. Zaddicus belittled him, accused him of being too soft to kill. Killing is what he’d trained for his entire life. I guess I wasn’t supposed to have a conscience. He shoved another shirt in a saddle bag when he heard a sound behind him. He drew his blade without hesitation, and as he whirled around to face the intruder, found his blade level with Sabre’s neck.

  He narrowed his eyes. “Were you sent here to kill me?”

  Sabre stared at the blade a moment, then shook his head. “I imagine Vex would get the honor, not a lowly sword twirler like myself.” He sounded serious, but his lips twisted into a smirk.

  Stryker slowly sheathed his sword, watching his instructor closely all the same.

  “He’s sending you away?” Sabre gestured to the bag.

  “I’m coming back. He wants me to fetch Lily.” He uttered her name like a curse, and indeed it felt that way. His life had changed after meeting her, but she wasn’t the problem, not really. She was the symptom, and she was the one who would suffer for it.

  “You bring her here, it’s a death sentence for her.” When Stryker didn’t reply, Sabre put a hand on his shoulder and spun him around. “He’ll let every man have a go at her, and make you watch. And when she’s borne him enough children, you’ll be lucky if she’s simply executed. If not, he’ll make you do it.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” Why was Sabre torturing him about Lily? It was already bad enough knowing what her future would likely be. He didn’t need it rubbed in his face that his inability to tell her no, his inability to walk away from someone that intrigued him, was sentencing her to this kind of life. I should have left her on the surface.

  Sabre retreated, taking a seat near the door. “Do you honestly think you’ll win back his favor by returning here?” The words were spoken softly, the way only Sabre had when discussing serious topics.

  Stryker paused, giving the question thought. “He thinks I’m a coward. Fetching a woman and bringing her here won’t convince him otherwise.”

  Sabre gave him a faint smile. “So why do it?”

  He turned away, staring at the corner where a bit of dust was trapped. “Because I have nowhere else to go.”

  “Oh, come now, that’s not true. Plenty of folks on the surface are willing to hire a decent sword. Even the Ravens go recruiting every now and then.”

  Stryker snorted. “So, you’re okay if I kill for them, but not for my father?”

  Sabre’s eyes narrowed. “The Ravens have standards.”

  “Tell that to the First.” Stryker latched the bags closed and threw them over his shoulder. He moved to the door but Sabre moved faster, blocking his path.

  “Don’t do this.”

  Stryker swallowed. “Don’t make me report you to my father.”

  Sabre stepped aside and gestured for him to leave. The look in his eyes was difficult to identify. It wasn’t pity, but something almost worse: disappointment.

  With all the cave-ins, it had taken him a week to make it back to their original stronghold. Lily was furious, having been without rations for three days. He’d managed to placate her with food, but they were now short on meals for the trip back. She hadn’t spoken to him at all for the entire day’s travel, nor when he’d called for them to stop and take a rest. He left her with the beast and went off hunting for a bit. The lizards existed in the wild in this part of the caves, so there had to be food sources about for the carnivorous beasts. He found a cave rat and managed to take it down, so he built them a fire to cook it over upon his return to camp. The rats were much larger than the ones on the surface, so it would at least give them a decent supper.

  “What does he want with me?” Her words were so unexpected after the cold shoulder she’d been giving him all day that it took him a moment to answer.

  “He hasn’t told me.” It was the truth, but only technically. It wasn’t hard to guess what Zaddicus wanted with the pure-blooded daughter of the First of the Surfacers. Though he’s got a bunch of pure bloods at his command now. Why does he need her? He didn’t like that question and chose to ignore it.

  She didn’t speak as he took the rat off the fire. He cut off the nicer portion of the beast and re-impaled it on the stake before handing it to her. He hadn’t brought along anything as luxurious as a plate or utensils. Lily pinned him with a baleful stare before taking it and tearing into it. She’d been losing weight even before they’d left for the Dweller city, and the extra time without food hadn’t improved that much. Her robes hung loosely on her frame, and it bothered him that he cared. With all that was bound to happen to her upon their return, if he couldn’t handle seeing her thin, he wasn’t going to survive what they’d do to her. And maybe that’s the point.

  “Don’t do this thing.” Is it really that simple? Stryker stared at her across the fire. He’d passed two exits to the surface on the route he’d finally taken back to his old quarters. It would be easy to slip close enough to the surface, cut the lizard free, and phase them away to freedom. He’d take Lily back to her family, her own wishes be damned. He obviously couldn’t handle being responsible for her. But he would hunt us both to the ends of the planet. With the Dwellers subdued, he has nothing else to distract him. It all boiled down to one question: which was the better way to die?

  Lily finished her rat and tossed the stake into the fire. She stomped her way over their gear pile and retrieved the bedroll she’d insisted on bringing. She took it to the far side of the fire and spread it out on the cave floor before plopping down on it, turning her back to Stryker.

  He stared at the fire, hoping for some solution to his dilemma. It burned down to coals before she spoke again, scaring the shit out of him. He’d thought she was asleep.

  “I used to think the worst thing that could happen in my life was having to enter reproductive service. I had a list, you see, of ‘approved candidates’ to choose from.” Her voice was bitter and full of self-loathing. He could barely make out her form in the glow of the embers, but he managed to see her stir on the bedroll, rising to a seated position.

  “I was angry that my choices were limited.” She chuckled derisively. “Under your father, I won’t have a choice at all, will I?”

  Stryker swallowed, unwilling to answer that question. “I don’t know--”

  “Oh, spare me. You know, just as I do.” She rose to her feet and began pacing. She avoided the lizard, a good thing considering the beast’s temper.

  “I was so afraid to lose control, but now I’ve lost it. There’s nothing left to fear.”

  As a woman, there’s a hell of a lot left to fear. He couldn’t say that, though, so he remained silent. She’d managed to make it behind him and he resisted the urge to turn around. The whisper of cloth moving sent a jolt of adrenaline through him. It took everything he had to remain seated.

  “I have one choice left that I can make, Stryker, son of Zaddicus.”

  The woman that stepped out from behind him was entirely nude, her skin reflecting the glow of the dying fire. “And that choice,” she began, her voice wavering, “is in who and how violently I am taken for the first time.”

  Stryker
forced his eyes to the coals. “You don’t want me.”

  She stepped closer. “I might have, once.” She sounded almost wistful, yet grim at the same time. “But I know one thing, and that is that you won’t hurt me.”

  Every step we take closer to my father, I hurt you.

  “The women we rescued, they still have nightmares, you know. All these years later, and they remember their suffering at your father’s hands.” She crouched next to him and still he refused to look at her. The light from the coals was burned onto his retinas, and he doubted he’d be able to see much if he looked at her.

  “If you’re going to take me to him, if that is the life I must live--” she faltered, a breath hitching in her chest. “Do this one thing for me.”

  There was nothing seductive in her tone or posture. He finally took his eyes from the fire and looked at her. Her cheeks were wet from silent tears, and she trembled as she crouched before him. She was petrified, grasping for something, anything in her life that was left for her to control.

  “And you certainly don’t bed them.” But he never said Lily was an enemy. The thought that they might have been followed had occurred to him, but he’d seen no evidence of a tail.

  “Please,” her voice cracked, the tears coming faster now. “Don’t make me beg for it.”

  It wasn’t as if he wasn’t capable. He’d visited his fair share of brothels on the surface when he’d still been allowed the freedom to go where he pleased. It’s wrong. The whole thing was wrong, though. Him taking her to his father was wrong. The fighting men having free access to her, if she was lucky only on her fertile days, was wrong. The fact that she was here at all was wrong. The fact that she was so desperate to not be with a man that she’d run away from home was wrong. She’d been born into a world that only cared about her bloodline and about what use she was, that would never see her as a person or an individual. And it was all wrong.