Order of the Lily

by Cait Ashwood

  He gave her a look that was hard to interpret, then pushed himself off the wall, saying nothing. He followed her though, and that was the important part.

  She led them up the three flights of stairs onto the walls. The breeze was stiffer here, with no structures to shelter them. In the early summer heat, it was refreshing. Sasha had apparently given more specific orders, as Audrey realized the patrol patterns shifted somewhat to give them some more privacy. Audrey wasn’t sure she needed it, but appreciated the gesture.

  “So…anything interesting happening out there?” She gestured to the wider world outside of her walls. Hound walked up beside her, leaning against the parapets and looking out over the plains.

  “Not really. A bunch of pansies arguing over things they know nothing about.” Hound didn’t sound all that interested, but Audrey was dying for details.

  “About the Order?”

  He shrugged. “Naturally. Other things, too.”

  Audrey stifled a groan. “Like what?”

  Hound looked at her for a moment, then lifted one shoulder as if to say, well, you asked for it. “Recovery of the bodies of those we lost. Tracking down and either capturing or arranging the execution of tainted Seekers that escaped the compound. Trying to track and find Zaddicus. Shall I continue?”

  Audrey shook her head quickly. Books rarely discussed the aftermath of big battles, and while she’d seen the wreckage of the Institute, she hadn’t had to assist with any of the cleanup. By the time she saw it again, everything was spic and span. I’m thinking with too narrow a focus, again.

  “Anything else you wanna know?”

  Audrey chewed on her lower lip, the two of them looking out at the world and avoiding each other. “Should I be…doing something? Meeting with families of the fallen, attending any funerary rites…”

  Hound turned to look at her, his gaze piercing. “You’d do that?”

  “Of course.” She was mildly insulted that he doubted her. Those men had given their lives to save the Order. The least the Order could do in return was recognize their sacrifice and offer what comfort was possible to grieving families.

  The Seeker turned his gaze outward again. “I’ll pass the message along, and we’ll see what we can do.”

  “Thank you.” Audrey sighed, enjoying the warm breeze on her skin. In another few weeks the temperatures would be unbearable, but in this Goldilocks period, she couldn’t be happier.

  Hound let the silence stretch on for a while, eventually clearing his throat. “They doing okay in there?”

  Oh. Of course. The lack of information goes both ways. Audrey thought about Zeche’s planted soldiers in the guard. They’d tried to disguise themselves, but she’d spent far too much time among the Ravens to not recognize a few of them. So, the Seekers weren’t operating completely in an information vacuum. Was Hound asking to be polite, or was he not invited into those conversations?

  “They’re…testing the waters. Some are still too injured or scared to leave their rooms. Others are cautious, but exploring. It’s going to take time.” One of the women had a son a month or so younger than her twins, and they’d played together once so far.

  “You have enough medics?”

  Audrey nodded. “They were neglected for years, Hound. A week of satisfactory care is barely going to dull the edge of what they’ve been through.” And judging by the screams in the night, Audrey could only guess at the hell some of them had endured.

  “I should get going.” Hound rose to his full height, glancing to the southeast.

  The Institute. Well, far be it from her to keep him from his duties. “Thanks for coming.”

  “Yeah.” No goodbye, no nothing. He was there one moment, and gone the next. Audrey stared at where he’d been standing, blinked a few times, and shook herself. That didn’t seem to go well at all. She had her information, but the entire encounter left an odd taste in her mouth. And men said women needed the instruction manual. Sheesh.

  “Lady Audrey?”

  She turned to see one of the guards approaching. Audrey tensed, glancing around for any sign of trouble.

  “Oh, nothing bad, my lady.” The guard cleared her throat and stood at attention. “Lady Ellen has requested a meeting, on the rooftop.”

  Ellen wants to see me? Audrey squinted at the top of the tower and sure enough, the elder’s chair was currently occupied. I hope she’s not mad that I brought Hound here. He never came within the tower walls.

  Audrey still had no idea where she stood in the overall hierarchy of the Order and her stomach churned as she made her way to the tower, stopping by her chambers on the way. She re-did the braid in her hair, doing her best to appear clean and neat. She’d seen the woman in passing only once, and her fellow Leaf hadn’t seemed to pay her any special attention at the time.

  Her thighs ached by the time she reached the top of the tower, and she found herself slightly out of breath. She paused a few steps down, giving herself a moment to catch her breath. When she was reasonably sure she wouldn’t be gasping at the woman when she made her introductions, she ascended the last few steps.

  Gwyn was up here as well, which shouldn’t have been a surprise to her. The Leaf rarely left her mother unaccompanied. Although hadn’t Gwyn mentioned having a daughter of her own? Audrey hadn’t seen them together at all, which begged a rather uncomfortable question—had she survived? Fine leader I’d make. Look at everything I forget to do. She reprimanded herself internally, waiting for Ellen to make her move.

  “Come here, child. I don’t bite.” The woman was ancient, her voice a low warble, her skin taking on a nearly powdery cast.

  Audrey gave the elder a sheepish smile, moving from the stairs to where Ellen could see her properly. She dipped her head in a sort of bow. “It’s a true pleasure to meet you.” She slipped her hand inside her robe, pulling out a small, leather-bound book. “And I believe this is yours.”

  Ellen’s eyes widened and she reached out a shaking hand. Audrey met her half way, surprised at the bitter feeling in her chest at giving the book up. In truth, it was a journal and not a book, but back in the days when Audrey had thought herself the only Leaf alive, it had been her one connection to the women that came before her. It felt like she was giving away part of her history.

  “I haven’t seen this old thing in years.” Ellen held it carefully, pulling back the cover and delicately flipping through the pages. Something she read amused her and she began chuckling, shaking her head and closing the book. “Ah, if only the worries I had then were the ones I have now, life would be much simpler, yes?”

  Audrey swallowed. She’d revered that book, and Ellen was laughing at it. It was completely understandable, on one hand, but Audrey still had a foul taste in her mouth about it. “That was the only cue I had to what I was, what we could do…” She wasn’t sure why she was trying to make Ellen understand, or why it was important, but the words tumbled out nonetheless.

  Ellen’s chuckling ceased and she tilted her head towards Gwyn. “You said she seemed green, yes?”

  Gwyn glanced at Audrey, one eye scrunched up more than the other. “Yes, but she’s a very quick learner. Almost intuitive, once given a hint in the right direction.”

  “Hmm.”

  Audrey wasn’t sure how long she stood there, Ellen gazing thoughtfully out at the world, the horizon a blurry line in the distance. Gwyn offered nothing further, and the silence was getting stiff and uncomfortable.

  I had meant to ask… “Gwyn, forgive me if this is out of place, but you mentioned having a daughter? Did we…did we not get her out?” It would certainly explain why the woman had hardly spoken to her since the night they arrived.

  The Leaf stiffened, clasping her hands behind her back and standing like a soldier. “From…what I understand, she was lost before we got there.”

  Lost? Lost how? Audrey’s mind raced. Was this something she should ask Zeche to look into? If there was a young girl hiding down in those tunnels, she wouldn’t last much lo
nger. Or did lost, in this case, mean already deceased?

  “I’m sorry.” The words felt flat and meaningless. “Is there anything I can do?” Not knowing the exact fate of Gwyn’s daughter, Audrey did her best to choose words that would be appropriate in either scenario.

  “None of us have found a way to bring back the dead, Leaf. Don’t trouble yourself over it.” Ellen coughed, and Gwyn brought a glass of water to her lips, helping her swallow.

  Audrey stared at her feet, unable to imagine it. The very idea of losing a child nearly sent her flying to her room, just to make sure Rowan and Lily were still safe. Perhaps living in the compound had made the possibility more immediate, but even as her thoughts drifted down that path, Audrey negated them. No parent, no mother, could prepare for and easily accept the death of her child.

  Ellen cleared her throat again. “I hear you’ve been negotiating on our behalf.”

  Audrey blinked, startled at the change in subject. “Um, yes. To the best of my ability, in any case.”

  “You made a public statement on behalf of my daughter to ensure she received better care.” Ellen raised an eyebrow.

  “Of course I did.” Audrey didn’t understand what other course Ellen thought she could have taken.

  “She helped bring down the walls of your citadel, jeopardized your safety and that of your unborn children.” Ellen tisked. “Many would not have been so gracious.”

  “Gra—” Audrey shook her head. “Let’s get one thing straight, here. Whatever Gwyn has been forced to do, it does not mean she doesn’t deserve to be treated with human decency. None of it was her idea, and she’s been nothing but a godsend since I’ve known her.”

  Ellen chuckled again. She must be the type to be easily amused, because none of this was making sense to Audrey. “And I understand we have you to thank for the renovations to the tower.”

  “I—no. I had nothing to do with that. They were already completed by the time I was shown the tower.”

  Gwyn shook her head. “You have no idea how much they dread crossing paths with you, do you?”

  They? Who is ‘they’? “Tops is the only one I really argue with.” This conversation was making less and less sense the longer it went on.

  The younger Poole rolled her eyes. “They were afraid you’d nix the tower idea, so they went above and beyond to make this a place you’d feel comfortable with us staying.”

  “Which probably allowed us more amenities than you would have thought to ask for.”

  Audrey’s mouth gaped like a fish. She really couldn’t think of one thing to say. Surely she wasn’t as intimidating to the men as they were letting on? Besides, it wasn’t like she asked for unreasonable things. Treat people like the human beings they are. Innocent until proven guilty. Basic tenets of human society.

  “I…don’t know what to say.” Which was the truth.

  Ellen smiled softly. “It’s no matter. I simply wanted to see what sort of woman you are.”

  If she hadn’t already been thoroughly flummoxed, that would have been the icing on the cake. She took the tone as a dismissal and made it a few steps away before Ellen spoke again.

  “Tell me. The man you marked, is he the father of your children?”

  Audrey stopped abruptly, turning to glare suspiciously at Gwyn. Hound’s mark wasn’t widely known. Most only knew that Audrey had found a way to offer him some protection, not the exact medium. The woman shrugged slightly, her surprise plain on her face. Audrey cleared her throat, attempting to keep some of her dignity. “No. I couldn’t be that irresponsible. I didn’t know what would happen with the taint.”

  Ellen grunted. “You can cure him, you know.”

  Audrey whirled to face the ancient woman. “What? How?”

  “You’ve yet to cement the mark, I take it.”

  Audrey wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know what that means.”

  Gwyn coughed. “Have you slept with him?”

  Audrey felt her eyes go wide. “Uh, no.” They hardly had that sort of relationship.

  “Be with him, and only him, on the solstice. Your body must know his taint. Then, bring him to the Grove with us. We’ll complete the ceremony there.”

  Audrey couldn’t catch her breath. All this time, and there’d been a way? But what was she supposed to do about the others? She certainly wasn’t going to sleep her way through all the Seekers that had become tainted over time. More importantly, she couldn’t risk getting Hound’s hopes up if she wasn’t sure it would work.

  “It’s that simple? You’ve done it before?” She didn’t mean to sound so condescending, but she had to know for sure.

  Ellen gave her a sideways look. “How is it you think Gwyn came out pure?”

  She hadn’t thought of that. She’d dismissed it as one of those questions she was likely to never know the answer to, and left it at that.

  “I wasn’t a sickly child, was I?” Gwyn’s voice was small and she stood somewhat apart from her mother, now.

  Ellen’s face twisted into a grimace. “I had to poison you to keep him from suspecting you. It was to protect you. Please. You must see that.”

  Gwyn said nothing, walking away with her back to her mother and stopping when she reached the edge of the wall. “All those years, you let me believe I was part of the problem.”

  “I couldn’t risk him finding out that I knew how to beat him.”

  Gwyn turned on her mother, tears brimming in her eyes. “I didn’t even know what I was. I had a chance to fix everything. I could have gotten things moving faster, but no, I thought I was a threat to Audrey, so I bided my time.” Gwyn paused to take a breath, her voice dropping an octave. “My daughter might still be alive!”

  Ellen didn’t back down, though she hung her head. “You never would have lived long enough to bear her.”

  Audrey shuffled her feet, completely at a loss. This wasn’t a conversation she belonged to, and she’d heard enough already. She made her way to the stairs and blessedly wasn’t called back. The women continued their conversation as Audrey made her escape. When she was safely on her own floor again, she pressed her back against the wall, taking a series of deep breaths. There was a cure.

  21

  Audrey made it back to her room in a daze, taking a seat in the rocking chair, her eyes technically resting on the twins as they played with their set of blocks, but really gazing off into space. Her life had gotten simpler, and yet exponentially more complicated. There was still no firm leadership at the head of the Order, and talks were coming soon that were going to require a figurehead. And then there was Hound.

  Keeping the cure to herself wasn’t an option, though it was the easy way out. She hadn’t come to terms with Ace’s feelings for her yet, and certainly didn’t return them. Theoretically, healing Hound shouldn’t pose an issue at all, but she knew that wasn’t going to be the case. She hadn’t thought about the consequences, hell, she hadn’t had the time or chance to research a cure, yet here it was, handed to her on a silver platter. She felt like she’d unlocked a reward upon quest completion; an unexpected but pleasant surprise in the boss chest. Problem was, the item unlocked an entirely new quest chain, and meant that one of her companions might leave the party forever.

  A touch on her shoulder made her look up, startled. It wasn’t Falda checking on her, though the woman wasn’t far away. It was Ace. Falda gave her a long look, then slipped out of the room to let them talk.

  “Hey.” Ace stared at her, gaze guarded. He had big black bags under his eyes and his bruises from the fighting were still fading, but he was here. “I asked if you were okay?”

  She blinked, not at all sure when he’d arrived, or who had let him into the tower. Guilt immediately rushed over her. He was such a good father, and a good man. Just because he wasn’t her man didn’t seem to be a reason to hurt him. Did she have it in her to break his heart? She wasn’t sure. In the meantime, she had to tell him something.

  “I’ll be fine. Just...learned something new.” S
he looked away. The twins weren’t playing on the floor anymore; they were snuggled up safely in their crib. The daylight that had poured through the window when she’d entered the room was gone, the last tinges of the sun leaving the midnight-blue sky.

  Ace stared at her a moment, then offered his hand. “Come on. You can tell me while we eat.”

  She couldn’t believe she’d been so completely absorbed that she’d missed everything. What if something had happened to the twins? They were constantly putting things in their mouths these days. They could have choked, and she wouldn’t even have noticed. Shaken, she took his hand, only now realizing how hungry she was. She didn’t relish the trek down to the dining hall, but maybe moving around would help her brain catch up.

  She tried to force her mind into the present, and the feeling of Ace’s warm hand around hers helped somewhat. It gave her something tangible to connect to. For however long that lasts, anyway. She couldn’t look at him, feeling treasonous just for the direction of her thoughts. Her emotions were swirling shambles, and she couldn’t make sense of any of them yet. Too much had happened today for her to have any chance at being level headed.

  She bumped into the stool at the small writing table and felt the heat rise in her cheeks from embarrassment. Glancing down, she realized Ace had already brought up dinner. Falda was nowhere to be seen. Frowning, she pulled her hand from his and sat down on the stool, watching as he uncovered the plates from the kitchen. He sat down on his own stool, picking up a chicken leg and was about to take a bite before he noticed that she hadn’t made any move to touch her food.

  “Audrey, what’s wrong?” He put the drumstick back down on his plate and pushed it away from him, the corners of his eyes crinkling in concern.

  She swallowed nervously, looking down at her plate. He hadn’t showed up for a week, and now was acting like nothing had happened. Even if she hadn’t heard about the cure, she wasn’t sure how she would have felt about that. Audrey picked up her fork and poked around at the vegetables. I need to tell him. If I don’t, he’ll only feel more betrayed. She sighed heavily, putting the fork down. Her eyes tracked a pea as it rolled across her plate.