Page 39 of Anomalies

An iris for Iris.

For the daughter they’d lost all those years ago.

Lila and Elliot Vaughn burst through the doors of the infirmary.

Elliot halts just before her bed, and Lila rushes to Iris’s side, pushing back her matted black and white hair. That hair is the only reason I knew who she was when she stumbled out of that crumbling building, and I swear I’ve been on autopilot ever since. Getting her here was my top priority.

Menders rush about the room, adjusting Iris’s too-thin body, and I stumble out of the way, my vision blurring from all the adrenaline pumping through my veins. Sparks fire off in my bloodstream, looking for a release, having been pent up for too long.

“We’re here,” Lila says to her daughter, grabbing onto her hand with trembling fingers.

“Oh gods,” Elliot pleads, a short and plump man with skin as white as a ghost. “Is she going to be okay?!” he shouts at a passing nurse, whose wide eyes find mine.

In short, no. Iris will never be okay. I can see every bump and divot of her bones through her skin, which has lost all color. Her cheeks are hollow, her stomach concave, and her closed eyes are sunken. She weighs so little; we were able to run her the entire way back, passing her off between us.

Even if she survives the physical ailments, mentally…

I don’t know if she’ll ever recover.

She managed three steps out of that crumbling building before slumping to the ground. She had the eyes of someone who had witnessed and endured such horrible things that she had lost all vibrancy. All hope.

“She’s in good hands, Mr. Vaugh,” I reply, but my voice comes out strained.

Gemma pushes her way into the room and quickly springs into action, ordering other nurses to fetch various herbs and salves. Only when they find Iris’s pulse does Gemma look over at me. “Were there others with her?” she whispers, and I shake my head.

Gemma exhales a defeated breath, her chest falling with it.

“But now I know where to look,” I tell her. “This is hope, G.”

She stares and stares at Iris. “I know you’ll want to ask her questions when she wakes up. Important questions. But can you ask⁠—”

“I’ll ask her about your parents,” I promise. “That is important.”

She flashes the ghost of a smile, then the doors to the exam room swing open and the Dame ripples in on a wave of silver fabric, her diadem pale in the white lighting. Every nurse pauses to bow, but Delia waves them off, and the Menders quickly resume their organized frenzy.

“Your Grace,” Elliot dips his head as the High Priestess approaches Iris’s bedside. “They found our daughter,” he stammers, tears running down his rounded cheeks.

“So, they have.” Her navy eyes find mine and sharpen. “Let us thank the Matrons for such a miracle.”

I’d taken this mission without telling her.

I knew she wouldn’t approve of us leaving again so soon, but I’m not waiting another six months. There’s talk about permanently closing the Banyan which would seal us all in here forever, and I can’t let that happen. All I’ve needed this whole time is proof that our people are still alive, and Iris….she’s that proof.

When Rogues sacked our city, they slaughtered the nobility first; the only ones they took were the lower-ranked Sol, Menders, Floras, Diviners, Hearths, and Lakelets. They took witches they could have easily killed, but didn’t—another question I’ll have to answer.

Iris has been pushed to the brink of death, and still might not fully evade it, but she was kept alive for a reason. Maybe others were kept alive for that reason, too, and I’m not letting the Dame close the Banyan until I find them.

“A word, Captain,” Delia says sternly, gesturing a robe-clad arm to the far corner of the room. I ignore the splintering pain in my legs as I move to join her. “You disobeyed me,” she hisses.

“I know. I’m sorry.” I’m not. “But Delia, do you know what this means⁠—"

“That I can’t trust you?” she fires back, a harshness in her tone that I’ve not heard since I was a boy. “I thought I could count on you; you’ve always followed my rules, Callan.”

“This isn’t about the rules,” I snap, turning to shield my face from Iris’s parents. “Our people are alive, Delia.”

I can’t believe she’s talking about fucking rules right now.

“One,” she grits out, and my vision bleeds red. “You found one alive, and I’d barely consider her so. She’s practically withered away into nothing.” Delia glances at Iris, smiling faintly at her parents, then whips her head back around to me. “She might be the only one that survived, Callan.”