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

by Cait Ashwood

  “Take me to the cliffs.”

  The sea air was bracing and smelled of salt, a scent she was becoming intimately familiar with from all her crying. The ground was rocky right by the cliff’s edge, though. She could force the oaks to grow here, but it wasn’t quite right. Jasper stood silently, watching her.

  “I need better ground, but I want to do this here.” She gazed about, frustrated.

  Jasper tilted his head to the side. “Planting something?”

  She nodded.

  “Here.” He offered his hand to her, and she took it.

  They took form a few hundred feet back from the cliffs, in an area where the wild grasses were thick and lush. Brana turned and looked back toward the cliffs. She could still see the water from here, though the beach was hidden from sight. She slipped into her trance and inspected the nearby soil. It could do with a bit of aeration, but it would work.

  She set about her task, purifying the surrounding soil of any traces of the taint. The cliffs were normally pretty clean, as the rainwater took most pollutants with it off the edge. Still, nothing but perfection would do for these trees. Finally satisfied with her preparations, Brana began pulling out patches of grass. The grass would soak up moisture before it could get to her trees, and could literally keep them from getting any water. Jasper knelt beside her after a moment and helped her clear a roughly three foot circle.

  “That’ll work for one of them.” In all honesty, she wanted to try one first before planting the others, and they might not have time to do them all today. They were expecting another wave of dignitaries that night, and Brana couldn’t miss the great feast being held in Audrey’s honor.

  She pulled the acorns out of the pocket of her robe and studied them, eventually picking the smallest. The climate here wasn’t the best for oaks, but this place was important to her. If she was going to take a chance, it was best to use the weakest candidate.

  The earth was loose from their weeding and easy to move around with her hands. She dug out a hole for it and gently placed the acorn in its earthen cradle. In your memory, mother. She scooped the rest of the dirt back over it, leaving only a slight mound as evidence of its location. The song of the trance called out to her and she was only too happy to join in its strains, pouring herself into unlocking the seed and letting all that energy within spark into action. She was going to have to supply it with much of her own energy as well, but it would only serve to make the memorial that much more personal.

  The tree broke through the surface, growing at a rate that surprised even Brana. Its roots stretched into the soil as if hungry, actively seeking nutrients. She watched the first leaves unfurl with a sense of wonder. She’d grown many smaller plants and crops from seed, but never had she brought a tree into being before. There was something sacred in the act, something healing in it. She guided its growth, permitting branches only within safe distances of each other, not letting any of their combined energies go to waste. As the tree approached her waist in height, she slowly cut off the flow of energy until it ceased all together. It was large enough to have an awareness now, and Brana wanted to be the first to speak to it.

  You will be the first of many trees to grow here, little one. Be strong, be proud, and never falter.

  Trees almost always had masculine energies, even the ones housing Guardians, but the energy coming from this tree was undeniably female. “That’s strange.” She stared at the tree curiously, looking at the two other acorns in her palm.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s... female.”

  Jasper frowned. “I thought the first trees planted were always male.”

  Brana nodded, distracted. Maybe she’d read it wrong. She reached out toward the tree again. While large enough to be aware, it took time for trees to mature enough to be able to interact with the Order. Brana knew she was wasting her time on an infant of a tree, but something called to her, made her want to try. I am Brana, and I will care for you for all my days.

  The tree had no voice, but it surprised her by pulling her deeper into her trance. She allowed the draw, fully expecting the odd, coded images to be all the communication she got. This impression wasn’t like any other she’d seen. The tree didn’t seem to be trying to show her something it had sensed, but seemed to be trying to create an image out of impressions. I don’t understand. What are you showing me?

  The image fell away, and Brana got the oddest sense that the tree was frustrated. That wasn’t generally something that happened without a Guardian. The tree tried again, starting the process the same way, but this time in color. Trees can’t sense any color but green. Right before her eyes, the picture was coming together with pinks, blacks, peaches, and tans, all on a backdrop of green. She watched, entranced, as the image filled in. She knew she should be able to identify it, but she was trying too hard. She forced her attention away, then brought it back, and gasped. She was staring at an image of herself, but not as she appeared now. She was maybe six years old in this image, a fully-grown daisy bush growing from a hand full of dirt in her palm.

  “Mom?” Her voice cracked as she knelt next to the tree, hesitantly reaching a finger out to stroke the bark. The rough skin warmed beneath her finger, as if from the inside out. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She had no clue how, or why, but somehow Audrey was a Guardian in this little tree.

  “Ana?” Jasper’s voice was choked and when she looked up into his face, his expression was wary.

  “She’s here, in the acorns. I’ve never heard of a Leaf becoming the Guardian of anything but an adult tree, but it must be possible.” It was starting to make sense. The overwhelming amount of energy the seeds contained, the rapid growth, as if guided by an expert, the early sentience. All of that would be possible with a Guardian.

  And it made even more sense than that. The tree in the Dweller Grove hadn’t shown any signs of rejuvenation, or even any increased strength. If anything, the experience weakened it. With the entire life energy of a Lily, it should have shown immense signs of improvement. It didn’t take her life. It transformed her energy into something all Groves seek more of, more trees!

  “Jasper, I need you to go back to the Tower and bring me a cage and some wire. Nothing, and I mean nothing, can happen to this tree.” Deer and other ungulates were the greatest threat to young trees, but this wasn’t just any tree. If the tree died, there was nothing left to host the Guardian and both lives would be lost, along with all the Guardian’s knowledge and wisdom. She’d already lost her mother once. Brana wasn’t taking any chance of losing her again.

  Jasper phased out almost immediately, and Brana’s mind raced. There were three acorns, and Guardians could manifest in any tree in their connected Grove. As all three acorns had shared the same energy, Brana suspected her mother could manifest in any of the three. She could literally plant them anywhere she wished, give them accompanying trees to form Groves, and her mother could be reached from a minimum of three different locations.

  She’s changed, not lost.

  Brana passed the time waiting for Jasper by enlarging the grass-less circle. She’d have to be ferried out here multiple times in the coming days to mulch the tree and continue encouraging its growth. She would get stronger faster if I brought the others with me. She recoiled at the idea, though. For now, this was something she needed to keep to herself, to help her heal. Brana would tell them about the Grove once the tree was large enough to communicate with them. Jasper was humoring her for now, but she knew he was wondering if she’d fallen off her rocker entirely. I get to have her to myself for a while, and when I’m ready to tell them, she’ll be able to prove herself. Yes, that was an excellent plan.

  When Jasper showed back up with the requested items, Brana’s smile was a mile wide.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Ace stared at the reports on his desk, not wanting to believe them. I needed to know, I just didn’t want to believe it.

  They were still trying to piece together the events surr
ounding Audrey’s death. Some of the senior members of the Order had sat with Lily for a few days, pulling every detail out of her she could be pressured into giving up. Ace hadn’t approved of the process, but his daughter appeared to be the only one who fully understood what happened during her rescue.

  All these years after she’d broken his heart, Ace still couldn’t say he wasn’t affected by Audrey’s death, but at least he had more than enough work to keep him busy. Hound had been missing for a solid week now, and no one had heard anything from him. A few scattered reports of sightings had come in, but nothing concrete. Now, instead of just being Commander of the Institute, he was also in charge of security of the Tower. Emotions were too high there, so he’d been keeping himself busy at the Institute, which was quite a bit emptier than before the foray.

  When Jasper had phased into the courtyard and called for as many men as could get their hands on weapons, he’d thought it an overreaction of sorts. Jasper was generally level-headed, but he’d been off since Lily’s disappearance. If Ace had only known then what he did now, he might not have lost so many men. They’d phased into a madhouse, under attack from all sides, with one hell of an occurrence resonating at the center. Only once the fighting was over and they’d managed to phase everyone to safety did Ace even have time to ask questions.

  There was one piece of information more disturbing than anything else, though. The location they’d visited was far in the south to the mountains, where ages ago there had been active volcanic chains. No one had ever been there, as far as he’d known, and yet Deuce had known just where to lead them.

  Unwilling to believe the man he’d grown up with as a brother had betrayed them, Ace sent Zeche and Rowan back to the caldera to investigate. Not only did Zaddicus appear to have moved shop to that location, but there was a fully functioning Order living there as well, one whose records stretched back over five hundred years. I don’t want to know how Zeche accessed their records, the important part is that he did.

  One of the more interesting finds Zeche brought back was that Zaddicus was exiled from that location nearly ninety years ago. Back when the Seekers were simply glorified horses, used only for transportation or breeding and otherwise left to their own devices, Zaddicus had been evicted from his home and set lose on the Surface world. During the time Deuce had spent undercover with the man, he had reported on some sort of life-extending formula Zad had managed to concoct, but he’d never ended up taking it himself. Ninety years after his exile, and he’s still a pain in our ass. I wonder if he’s aged at all. It was too much to wish that he’d simply get old and die.

  I’m stalling. Ace opened his office door and handed the formal summons to an aide and returned to his desk, one particular piece of paper holding his attention. The letter had been copied in Zeche’s careful hand, but Ace didn’t doubt its authenticity.

  Exile of one Joshua Dennison

  On this, the 7th day of May, 2890, the Council of Growth hereby declares the boy, Joshua Dennison, an exile of our city. On the 14th of April, Joshua was involved in an argument with another boy, Antony Gardner, of my own line. This incident culminated with the accused murdering Antony by means of pushing him off an exposed crevasse. Lizard riders were sent to retrieve the body, which was found. Thus, the death has been confirmed.

  Murder among our people is punishable by death. Due to the accused’s unfortunate young age, possessing only eight years of life, the Council of Growth has hereby mitigated his sentence, in the hopes that he is young enough to learn from his sins. He is hereby sentenced to an exile, the term of which shall be for life. He shall be permitted such items as are on his back. He will swear the exile’s oath, or this ruling is nullified.

  Signed,

  Ramona Gardner

  Leader of the Council of Growth

  Post Script: Joshua Dennison took his oath on the 8th day of May, 2890. His records may now be stricken from the halls.

  Deuce was brought to the Manse when he was eight. The years added up, and the time line was correct, but for some reason, he refused to believe it. Zeche hadn’t always been kind to Ace’s family and this could be some sort of trick, though he was at a loss to identify a motive for such deceit. There were more questions than answers, but the implications of this revelation were still expanding.

  If this letter were true, and if it was referring to Deuce, then everything he thought he’d known about the man he’d called ‘brother’ for over thirty years was a lie. He’d murdered someone in cold blood as a child. He’d then come to the surface, somehow championed by Zaddicus, a fellow exile. There, he’d been nominated to serve among their own Seekers, and sent to the Manse until he was of recruitable age.

  At no point during his years of training did Deuce ever admit his knowledge. He walked streets where people were starving, and all along he had the answer. The Order had only died out on the surface. There was an entire other Order, whether they called themselves this Council of Growth or not, living a few hundred miles to the south. He went on countless missions to the past, searching for Chosen, when he knew exactly where to find the people they truly needed.

  Had Hound not found Audrey, would he still be silent? Without Audrey, they never would’ve rebuilt the Order, and Ace shuddered to think of the state humanity would find itself in without her and the re-establishment of everything they needed to survive.

  A knock sounded at the door.

  “Come in.” His voice sounded dead, appropriate given that’s exactly how he felt in this moment. Deuce had been his best friend as a kid, his confidant when his mother pushed too hard. At the Institute, they’d been friendly rivals throughout training, but always had each other’s backs when someone else tried to gang up on them. They’d been assigned to different Brotherhoods for a while, but when Hound took over, he put them back together again. Their entire lives, they’d never been far from each other, and yet the man walking into his room now might as well be a stranger to him.

  “You sent for me?” Deuce looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes.

  “You got here pretty quick.” He’d hoped for more time to gather his thoughts.

  Deuce gave him a wry grin. “I’ve been expecting the summons.”

  “Sit, please.” Ace waved at one of the chairs before his desk, forcing himself to sit despite his restlessness.

  Silence filled the room, neither one of them willing to address the elephant that stood there with them.

  “Just... answer one question.”

  Deuce raised an eyebrow.

  “Did you know the Council of Growth was the equivalent to our Order of the Leaf?” Ace’s heart slowed for every beat it took Deuce to answer.

  His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Yes.”

  Ace let out his breath in a frustrated sigh. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell us?” His voice was earnest and he stood, leaning forward on his desk, unable to help himself. “Do you know how many lives you could have saved?”

  Deuce looked down. “They wouldn’t have helped you.”

  “The fuck they would have. At least one of those women would have found it in her heart to come help us. One is all we would’ve needed.” At Deuce’s continued silence, Ace returned to his seat, sitting on the edge.

  “They would not have been permitted to leave.” Deuce spoke quietly, his hands folded tightly in his lap.

  Ace stared at him. “If they’d been willing, we could have found a way.”

  Deuce shrugged, not as enthusiastic on that point.

  Ace shuffled his papers around, Jasper’s signature catching his attention. “Zeche attempted to converse with you twice regarding possible targets Zaddicus could have in mind. Why didn’t you speak up?”

  The medic took a deep breath. “Exiles are sworn never to speak of or mention their place of birth. As they are stricken from the Dweller records, so too is all knowledge of the Dwellers stricken from the exile.”

  Ace pursed his lips. “And yet, you still knew about it.”

  He
inclined his head. “I did.”

  Ace flipped through his papers until he came across another of Zeche’s reports. “It seems Paxia fell to Zaddicus less than a week before they forced Lily into that Grove. According to this...” he trailed off as he looked for the corresponding document, “Zeche first contacted you regarding target identification three weeks prior.”

  “I believe those dates are accurate.”

  He’s so damned calm. “Had it occurred to you that, if we’d known his target, we could have prevented his occupation of the Dweller city?”

  Deuce raised an eyebrow. “It has.”

  “And?”

  “And nothing. I had no evidence to point to Lily’s location. Even Audrey’s assessment of ‘south’ was far too general for me to be forced to reveal them.”

  Ace leaned forward in his chair. “And had it occurred to you that, if the Dwellers had maintained control of their city, Lily might never have been forced into a Grove?”

  Deuce frowned. “I find that logic flawed. Zaddicus would have wished to test her ability before implementing her into any sort of program.”

  “That is my daughter you’re talking about!” Ace rose to his feet, furious.

  The man before him didn’t even flinch.

  “I thought we were brothers. I thought we shared everything, knew everything, had no secrets from each other.” Ace panted out the words, his anger getting the better of him.

  Deuce looked away. “The secret was not mine to tell.”

  “No. No, it wasn’t, was it?” Ace paced over to the window looking out over the training yard. “But it was enough to nearly kill my daughter, and instead kill the mother of my children, the leader of our Order, and the savior of humanity.” He turned to face Deuce. “Except, that’s not quite right, is it? Humanity would have survived without her. It would have meant tens of thousands of deaths on the surface, but that was okay with you. It was okay, because we don’t count as people to you, do we?” He advanced on Deuce, who watched him with guarded blue eyes.