The Lost Garden: The Complete Series

by D. K. Holmberg

  “Not like she expected from you. We never had to go to Master Billiken, thankfully. Lira provided the books she wanted us to read. I think they’re hers.”

  Hers. If so, then they were books by Feliran. “Did they have explanations for what you saw? Examples of arrangements?”

  Jasi shook her head. “Nothing like that. Mostly detailed descriptions of flowers. We are to take those, along with Lira’s notes, to create messages.”

  There was more to it, Eris was certain. Jasi hadn’t learned quickly, but she seemed to know enough to understand more than simple messages. “Can I see them?”

  Jasi bit her lip, looking around the garden, as if Lira would come across her and punish her for considering. “Why do you want this, Eris? What is it you hope to gain?”

  It was a question much like what Terran had asked. What did she hope to gain? Understanding, certainly. But there was more to it. She wouldn’t really be able to help until she knew more about her abilities and that began with working with and learning from Lira. Until she knew what she was meant to do, she would be of no use to anyone, isolated and alone.

  Eris sighed. What could she say to make Jasi understand? Probably nothing. “I don’t know. Enough for me to help Mother.”

  She didn’t say how she wanted to use it against the magi. Jasi might understand, but Eris didn’t know.

  Jasi studied her, seeming to wait for more. When it didn’t come, she nodded.

  Chapter 40

  Eris sat in her room atop her plush bed, legs crossed under her and wearing only a thin shift like the one she’d worn during her time in the forest, only much cleaner. The silky green dress she’d worn for most of the day lay in a heap near the corner of the room. She should really get up to hang it in the wardrobe, or at least over one of her chairs, but couldn’t pull herself away from the slender, leather-bound book splayed out on her lap. She might have to learn on her own—left again alone to figure out her role—but at least she might have a book to keep her company.

  Jasi had delivered the book to her room, making her promise to return it. Eris had agreed without question. How else would she be able to pour over one of the books that had let Jasi learn to read the messages in the flowers?

  As she had suspected, the book was a Feliran. Not the same as she’d seen in Lira’s room. She was tempted to return to Lira’s quarters and—not take the book, but borrow it—but she would work through what Jasi lent her first.

  This was another book on flowers that preferred full sunlight. Eris flipped through many of the earliest pages, looking at the diagrams, again marveling at the detail Feliran managed to work into each drawing. Species name was written across the top of each page. Along the edge appeared to be characteristics associated with the flower; it took Eris a few moments to realize these characteristics had more to do with what effects keepers had used the flower for.

  When she discovered this, her heart raced. Eris had suspected Feliran was a keeper—knowing as much as she did about the flowers would only come from one of the keepers—but had no way of proving it before now. Had other books noted the same? Eris wished she still had the Feliran book of shade plants to reference, but it had been lost during her abduction. Besides, she could simply delve the forest to learn about shade plants.

  Eris continued flipping pages. Each page for a different flower. From her time in the garden, she knew there were thousands of different flowers, but most were variations of the same species. Each page consisted of different species. Notes along the sides referenced other colors or different patterns that might be found in the wild.

  Toward the middle of the book, Eris noticed comments about how to cross the flowers. Her hand hesitated. Did Feliran describe how to breed the flowers to create new flowers? If that was the case, why hadn’t she simply documented the crosses?

  She turned back to the beginning. Other pages were the same. The information tucked into this slender book was dense. Each page provided more information about each flower than she would have found in any single book in Master Billiken’s library, though even he had admitted Feliran had the premier reference on flowers.

  Where, then, were the comments about how to mix messages?

  Eris turned to the back of the book. Maybe Feliran had packed that information toward the end of the book.

  But the last pages were more of the same.

  She sat back, shaking her head. She should have asked Jasi how Lira intended her to use the book to understand the messages written in the flowers, but already she asked too much of Jasi. And Desia would be no more help. She was too angry about Eris’ absence to help. What did it matter that Eris had finally discovered what she wanted to do, what she was meant to do?

  Jasi had brought her a few other books as well, and Eris turned to these and grabbed the first one off the top of the stack. The cover was made of a dense parchment rather than the supple leather used to bind the books by Feliran. A detailed diagram of a flower was etched onto the parchment, parts labeled. The title had been written in a flowing scrawl, and she couldn’t read it clearly. Eris didn’t expect much.

  The first few pages matched what she expected from the cover. Each depicted a different type of flower with markings clearly labeling the parts. Eris flipped through quickly, wondering why Jasi would have given her this.

  Near the middle of the book, she stopped.

  The diagrams continued, but now several flowers were shown on each page. Eris studied the diagram. There didn’t seem to be anything particularly telling about these flowers. An anosem, trishelia, and bitterspoon. She tried to think of what might make the combination special but couldn’t come up with anything. A few notes had been made around the edges but most seemed to do with light requirements and how often to water to keep the flowers healthy.

  The next few pages looked much the same. Eris turned the pages more slowly. They were the same, only with different flowers. As she turned each page, she began to have a sense of something more. How could the combination of yellow roses, goralds, and sureens need so much to keep them healthy?

  Unless Eris interpreted the drawing wrong.

  She frowned, hurrying through the book.

  The last third was different. Instead of two or three flowers drawn together, now the page contained six or eight or even a dozen different blooms. The same markings were made along the margins. Eris still didn’t know what they meant. Maybe if she took more time working through the book she might understand, but she was tired.

  She set the book aside and moved to the next one Jasi leant her. At first glance, it seemed the same as the last. Page after page of diagrams of different flowers, showing various stages of growth. Helpful, but Terran might find it more interesting.

  A few more books like that, and then she grabbed the last. This had another cover made of thick, yellowed parchment. She opened it and nearly dropped the book.

  The first page looked like the other book bound in parchment. A few flowers were diagramed on the page. No notation was made around the sides of the page, only a single word.

  The next page was the same. And the next.

  Eris flipped with growing excitement. Some pages had phrases instead of single words. None of the flowers were labeled, but Eris didn’t need the labels. This was what she’d been searching for.

  She laughed and grabbed the book and the other like it and hurried out of her room.

  * * *

  Eris stood in the garden. Pale moonlight washed over her, providing enough light to see. Even without it, she sensed the flowers around her with something like the awareness she had while in the Svanth Forest. The undercurrent of energy diverted toward helping her mother pressed against her, focusing through the garden toward the heart. Only the elms didn’t contribute to it. Eris suspected that had more to do with Lira’s ability than the elm’s willingness to participate in healing her mother.

  She searched for the arrangement she’d shown Jasi but couldn’t find it.

  Eris turned, loo
king around and letting the sense of the garden fill her. Could she find another arrangement this way?

  All she felt was the pull of the garden.

  She sighed and turned back into the palace. With as late as it was, she should get to bed and search for other arrangements in the morning. Maybe she could share with Lira what she’d learned from the book and convince her she was ready to learn more about arrangements, but her mind raced and hope—for the first time in a while—filled her. Maybe she could learn enough to help.

  The halls of the palace were empty. No lantern lit her way, and only the faint moonlight streaming through open windows gave light for her to see. Eris barely needed any. She’d grown up in the palace and made her way by feel as much as by sight, but she would have liked having a lantern with her.

  As she walked, a few simple flower arrangements set throughout the halls pulled on her. She paused at each and considered the flowers. The dim light made it difficult to know with certainty, but none had any messages. Each served the distinct purpose of focusing the energy coming from the garden.

  Eris continued on, pausing only where she’d seen the first arrangement. No sign of it remained. Strange that it had been here such a short time.

  What if Lira hadn’t been the one placing messages in the flowers?

  Who else, then? The message of the first arrangement she’d discovered had been clear—the keeper of the forest has returned. The other was not as clear, but she’d thought the instructions to follow the path meant she needed to learn how to read the language of flowers first. With the books Jasi brought her, Eris finally thought she might be able to accomplish that.

  If only she could find another arrangement, she might be able to test whether the book would help her interpret the message. Instead, she had only more questions.

  Eris continued down the hall back to her room, her steps hollow echoes along the stone. At times, other echoes seemed to follow. She paused and listened, but nothing chased her. If only she had the same awareness she had within the forest.

  Maybe she should never have left the forest. What had she gained since returning to Eliara? A sense of hopelessness about her mother? Realization that she could do nothing to slow the magi? Frustration that the knowledge she thought she’d gained from the forest wasn’t enough—that there had to be more to being a keeper than she realized?

  * * *

  Back in her room, she leaned against the door and thought about what she should do next. Sleep first. Exhaustion washed over her, and she wanted nothing more than to sleep, but she couldn’t yet, not after what she’d seen in the books Jasi lent her.

  Eris grabbed one of the books and started back to her chair. As she sat, a soft knock startled her. She closed the book and set it atop the chair.

  Who would come to her room at this time of night?

  No one else had even moved in the halls. No servants would knock this late.

  Maybe Terran?

  No, Terran wasn’t willing to even come too near her in the garden.

  Unless something had happened with her mother.

  Eris pulled open the door, cold fear already working through her.

  Ferisa stood on the other side. She wore a long yellow dress that matched the color of her hair, which was pulled into a bun atop her head. Tension pulled the corners of her eyes, rings now around them. A band of silver circled her throat, the gentle swirls the marker of the Sacred Mother. She held a long, slender book in her hands.

  Another priestess, dressed in a rich golden robe of office, stood next to her. She wore a long drape from her head that covered black hair streaked with gray. Hard eyes looked at Eris.

  Eris looked from her sister to the priestess.

  This was it. Her mother had passed.

  “Ferisa?”

  She nodded with a tilt of her head, barely moving otherwise. “I heard you had returned. I hoped you would come to me…”

  Come to her? What was Ferisa talking about? “Is everything all right?”

  Ferisa glanced at the priestess before looking back at Eris. “Some say everything is better now that you’ve returned.”

  Eris couldn’t help but note the hint of disdain in her voice. She should have sought her youngest sister, but had been so preoccupied trying to find Lira and then her mother that she hadn’t bothered. The youngest of them all, Ferisa was born to serve the Sacred Mother and had taken to the calling as naturally a flower took to the sun.

  “I’m sorry, Ferisa. I came when I heard of Mother.” Telling Ferisa the same lie she’d told the others wouldn’t hurt.

  The priestess next to Ferisa pursed her lips. “You came for the Mistress of Flowers. Only then did you learn of your mother.”

  Eris blinked and looked from the priestess to Ferisa. “How—” She shook away the question. The how did not matter. “You know of what I am? Of what Lira is?”

  The priestess’s face turned in a sour expression. Ferisa nodded, looking at the book she pinched between her white fingers.

  Eris recognized the book as the Writings, a book of prayers sacred to the priestesses that they used in worship to the Sacred Mother.

  So Ferisa had begun memorizing the prayers, then? That might explain some of why she’d become so serious. The prayers were said to change the priestesses but were a sign that Ferisa advanced in her studies. Soon, the priestesses would claim her fully, and she would no longer be Princess of Eliara.

  “We have known about the Mistress of Flowers for many years,” the priestess said.

  Ferisa looked up from the book and nodded.

  A growing unease built within Eris. If the visit wasn’t about her mother, then why did Ferisa come to her so late? And why would she bring one of the priestesses with her?

  She held onto the edge of the door, not wanting to let them into her rooms. “It’s late, and there is much for me to do. Why have you come to me, Ferisa?” Eris pointedly ignored the priestess for now.

  “What did you think to accomplish by coming here?” Ferisa asked.

  Eris frowned. “Accomplish?” she asked. “I don’t know what I thought to accomplish. If you know about me and Lira, then you know I have much left to learn. I hoped to learn more about my ability, help Mother if I could…”

  She trailed off, looking from Ferisa to the priestess. Something about the way the priestess stared at her made her nervous.

  “You came to learn of flowers,” the priestess said.

  Eris took a deep breath as she looked back at the priestess. Her heart fluttered. She wished she’d placed a few arrangements in her room before now, anything that might lend her strength. The gardens were there at the edge of her senses, too distant to access.

  “And if I did?”

  “You will not be able to save her. The Sacred Mother calls her home.”

  “Save who? Mother?” Eris frowned and looked to the priestess. Her face hadn’t changed and still had the hard edge to it, so different than the serene expression most of the priestesses wore. “What do you know of her illness?”

  After looking over at the priestess and sighing, Ferisa answered. “There is much darkness in our future. I have not yet learned enough of that gift, but I do not see much light. And without light, how can the Sacred Mother shine?”

  “Ferisa?” Eris stepped around the door, looking at her sister. Her face had changed, the soft lines that had once made her look beautiful—lovelier than the rest of them—had faded and become hard. “What are you talking about? What about the future?”

  Eris had never paid much attention when it came to the priestesses. They served the Sacred Mother, but she knew little about how. They kept their ceremonies held tightly within, only the priestesses knowing them fully, but the Sacred Mother had been worshipped throughout Eliara and the North for centuries. But what did Ferisa mean about seeing light in the future? Did the priestesses claim to have some sort of premonitions about the future?

  Ferisa offered a tight smile and pointed to the Writings. “If only
the magi had ignored you, as they were instructed to do, you would never have known.”

  Eris’s heart pounded loudly. Had Ferisa known about the magi plan? “Never have known what?”

  The priestess shook her head, cutting Ferisa off. “It no longer matters. All that matters is that you are here. That the keeper has returned.”

  A cold flush washed over Eris. Had she been right? Were the messages not from Lira?

  The harsh tone to the priestess’s words told Eris all she needed to know about her view of keepers. She took a deep breath and turned to the priestess. “If you’ve come to me, then you know she has.”

  The priestess stared at her, eyes unblinking.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Eris saw Ferisa shudder.

  “That’s what I feared. I’m sorry, Eris.”

  With that, Ferisa stepped into the room and toward Eris. She pulled a slender knife from within the Writings and stabbed it toward her, slicing into her stomach. A rune on the edge of the knife flashed as it stabbed through her skin.

  Eris gasped, the pain hot.

  The priestess stood over her as she bled onto the stone floor, her expression flat, her face unmoving. As Eris’s vision faded, Ferisa turned and closed the door softly behind her.

  Chapter 41

  Eris didn’t move. Couldn’t move. Bands seemed to circle her wrists and ankles, biting and painful. Nothing but blackness around her. The air even smelled dark, if such a thing were possible. Certainly none of the sense of flowers and life she smelled all around her in the palace.

  She tried to blink, but her eyes didn’t open.

  Was she dead?

  The last thing she remembered was seeing Ferisa and the knife in her hand, but why would her sister attack her? Sweet Ferisa. Had she really changed so much?

  Pain ached dully in her stomach. She wondered if she still bled. Of course, were she dead, it wouldn’t matter. Her lips were dry, and she attempted to moisten them with her tongue, but it wouldn’t work as it should.