The Lost Garden: The Complete Series Read online

“I don’t know of a particular book,” she admitted. “How many could you possibly have about flowers?” All this time she had spent wandering the garden, she had never thought to stop and try to learn more about what she saw.

  His eyebrows rose slightly. “Ah, as you well know, it is a topic of much renewed interest, especially since she arrived. As such, I have made a point to procure as many tomes on the subject as possible. Best to be prepared for any interest.” He pushed his glasses back and tapped his cane on one of the nearby shelves. “The top shelf has books on native flowers. The next,” he said, tapping the shelf below it, “contains descriptions about plants outside the kingdom. Below that…”

  Eris felt her heart drop. There had to be hundreds of books. “How are there so many?”

  “As I said, I procured as many books on the subject as was possible. There are a surprising number of works on the subject. Some authors are quite prolific, writing several volumes. I admit I did not understand the interest at first, but after seeing her work…” He smiled and shrugged. “I imagine there are others like her studying the art of the flower, though few enough mention the proper arrangement. In fact, most of these are nothing more than a description of plants and where they are found. Some describe their care and breeding, subjects the master gardener has found most helpful.” He stood taller and tapped his cane on the stone floor. “There are probably few collections quite as complete as this. And more work is added each month. Your mother has been quite pleased with me.”

  “That makes one of us,” Eris said.

  Billiken only frowned. “I am sorry I cannot be of more help, my lady. If only you knew what you wanted?”

  She shook her head, eyes searching the shelves, just imagining the next few months spent combing through the books for a reference about the teary star. Her heart sunk; just as she’d finally thought she would be able to make some progress. “I do not know which book I need.”

  “Well…if not a book, is there a particular region you have in mind? I could narrow your search.”

  Finally, Eris smiled, touching a loose coil of her dark hair. “Wonderful, Master Billiken.” His ruddy face seemed to grow even redder with the complement. Why had he not told her that at the beginning? “I am looking for information about flowers native to the Svanth Forest.”

  Billiken pursed his lips as he considered the stacks. He tottered down the row of books, the cane smacking off the stone as he moved. “Svanth? Lucky for you…not many books on the Svanth.” He huffed heavily as he walked and reached the ladder and pushed it down the row. Setting his cane to the side, he started up the ladder.

  Eris could easily imagine him falling. “Master Billiken—can I help you with anything?”

  He glanced at her, pale blue eyes sharp and piercing. “I may be old, but I still manage quite well, my lady.”

  He turned and climbed toward the top shelf. Eris had to admit that for his age, he really did move quite well. Billiken shuffled through a few books, pulling them out and glancing at covers, shaking his head with a tremor of white hair when he found the wrong one, until finally finding what he wanted.

  When he reached the bottom of the ladder and grabbed his long cane, he handed her a thin book with a tall cover. Embossed lettering in the old style marked the faded and cracked brown leather. Eris could make out the word Svanth.

  “This is not quite the one I sought,” he said, “a brown leather bound tome by Feliran, but this should get you started.”

  “Thank you, Master Billiken!” she said, taking the book from him.

  “If I may be of further assistance…” He nodded to her before leaving her alone. Unlike Nels in the garden, the Master of Books had no interest in watching her read.

  Now the book lay open in front of her. Pictures of different flowers were drawn on the page in incredible detail. In some, Eris could make out the veins in the leaves, the striations of color along the leaves. The author had taken painstaking care to draw with as much detail as possible. Alongside each flower were lines of text, all written in the old style. She struggled with reading them. The words were the same, but the meanings were sometimes different, especially when referring to different flowers.

  The book consisted entirely of flowers found in the Svanth. Eris was surprised to learn there was a wide assortment of flowers, much more than she ever would have expected. Anything from wide-petaled, blooming flowers that apparently were members of the rose family to long, needlelike flowers the author named spinus loras. She found records of venomous flowers and carnivorous flowers. Flowers that looked like leaves and others no larger than an insect. Apparently, the Svanth Forest was home to many strange and exotic plants. But so far, Eris failed to find any reference to the teary star.

  She closed the book with a frustrated sigh. Nearly a week since she had first discovered the teary star, she still knew no more.

  The flower had held up surprisingly well. She kept it moistened, floating it in a bowl of water in her room, kept away from the sun and light, thinking that since it had grown in the shade that perhaps it preferred dark. The colors faded a bit as the week had progressed, but the petals had not dried like others she’d tried to preserve.

  Eris stood from the table. She decided she could not sit staring at books any longer.

  She passed Billiken on her way out of the library. He gave her a cursory glance and nodded as she passed him tottering down one of the long aisles—the aisle with books on flowers, she noted—carrying a basket of books hanging on one arm. Briefly, she wondered who they might be for; she had not seen anyone else in the library other than Master Billiken during her time in the library.

  The library was in the western most wing of the palace. Wide stone steps swept down and out of the library, leading past small windows set into the walls giving glimpses into the garden as flashes of color. At the bottom of the steps, she hurried out the wide wooden doors and into the courtyard.

  She wandered along the first rows of flowers, only veering away when she came across one of the assistant gardeners. The smells and fragrances slowly cleared her head. Before long, she found herself walking along the palace wall and into the shade to trail a hand along the cool stone.

  As she rounded a curve in the wall, she heard hushed voices up ahead. Eris was in no mood to speak to any of the gardeners, not interested in explaining her interest in a flower they claimed did not actually exist in the garden.

  The tone to the voices caused her to stop, a voice Eris almost recognized. The speaker had a rough timber. Even hushed, his voice carried, drifting above the flowers, destroying the silence of the garden.

  “Another season, and we will be too late. Already this garden resembles Elaysia. You would do well to remember the energy we expended clearing those gardens.”

  “But the queen—”

  “You said the queen thinks these little more than pretty flowers.”

  “And you’re certain they’re not?”

  The speaker sniffed, annoyed. “I cannot be certain. When she first came, I thought this only for decoration. The gardeners were gone, disappeared to the north and east.”

  “The north. The Kelths shelter too much there. And there is more than just decoration here. They gain influence, whether the king sees it or not.”

  “I recognize that now.”

  “Had we not come…”

  The other grunted. “I don’t know why I haven’t done anything sooner. Blasted flowers.”

  “You grow blind and lazy here in the north. The cool nights are too soothing. Perhaps we need to bring you back south.”

  “Not blind. And you know what I’ve been working on. Had it not been for me, you would not be here.”

  Eris shifted around the flowers, wanting know who was speaking. She was surprised to see Adrick as she slid around one of the beds. She should have recognized the voice, so distinct and rough and so much like her father’s generals with the course way they spoke. Only the top of his leathery head—now nearly completely bald
—was visible, but there was no mistaking his scarlet cloak, worn even on the hottest days, pulled up around his neck. She could not see who he spoke to and did not recognize the other’s voice.

  “We’re still not certain of this plan.”

  “We or you?” Adrick asked.

  The other laughed. “Does it matter? We serve the same master.”

  “I don’t know if the queen will believe the power the gardener stores within this garden. I can try explaining to the king, but in this he defers to the queen. And she does not see it.”

  “You must convince? Perhaps your position is weaker than we thought. You need to make certain they understand the threat.”

  “The unrest to the north has been noticed. The prince was sent.”

  “That is good. They should hold them back long enough for us to clear this infestation.”

  Eris frowned. Did the magi mean the garden was somehow tied to the Kelths in the north? But how? And for what reason? Before Lira, they’d never had a garden like the one that was here now. For years, they’d known nothing but peace. What did it mean that the north suddenly became unsettled? What did the magi know?

  She turned her attention back to the magi.

  “What would you have me do? Poison the garden? The two of us might be able to accomplish that, but it will drain me.”

  The other laughed. “That I have to explain to you tells me plenty.”

  “Do not think to lecture me. I have been here too long for that.”

  “You think you serve at your leisure?”

  There was a pause. “I will take care of this garden,” Adrick said.

  “Without knowing more, I fear it is nothing but a waste.”

  “Can we not simply burn the garden?”

  “If you think you truly are powerful enough, you should try. Perhaps that might impress the High Seat. I do not think that you will be successful.”

  “No. I don’t think it will.” Adrick turned and glanced at the garden.

  Eris ducked down to stay out of view.

  “So you sense it.”

  “Sense what?”

  “The protections around the garden.” The other magi paused and then laughed. “You have been here too long. I thought you playing some dangerous game where you allowed this garden to flourish, but that’s not it at all, is it? You’re just ignorant.”

  Adrick tensed. The top of his head flushed a deep red. “What protections?”

  The other magi laughed again. “There is more than just this garden to fear from this gardener. I can feel it.”

  “Another garden?”

  “It would explain much.”

  “Such as?” Adrick asked, looking around again.

  “We must be like her. We must be subtle.”

  “You said you had another season,” Adrick said.

  Another season for what? Before attacks in the north really became an issue? What did that mean for Desia, destined to marry some Varden lord? Or her? What would happen to her if she’d been married off and the north attacked?

  “Another season at most,” the other agreed. “Possibly less. In the time I have been in this blasted land, I can tell how she presses forward. Even the skies feel her presence.”

  “The skies?”

  “You are a fool.”

  “Do not continue to abuse me, or you will learn first-hand what I have been doing during my time in this land.”

  The other magi laughed. “Such empty threats. You would attack the emissary of the High Seat?”

  “Is that what you are? I thought you served as an advisor, like me.”

  “An advisor to the King of Saffra,” the magi agreed. “Where the High Seat of the Conclave sits. Do not mistake our places in the order.”

  “Tell me, then. What have you seen about the skies?”

  “When was the last time you saw clouds? Or a typical northern storm?”

  Adrick laughed this time. “They come nearly daily. The rains may not be as heavy as legend would have you believe, but the downpours can still be severe.”

  “And do the legends speak of rains coming only at night, leaving cloudless days for the flowers to flourish in the sunlight?” When Adrick didn’t answer, the other magi continued. “I see you haven’t made the connection.”

  He leaned forward and placed his palm on top of Adrick’s head. Adrick tensed but didn’t move. A sense of pressure built around Eris, and she almost coughed. Then the sense faded.

  The magi laughed softly. “She is subtle, that one. Impressive.”

  “What?” Adrick asked.

  “It’s not only the skies she touches.”

  “Me?” Adrick sounded disgusted, practically spitting out the word.

  “I have burned off the effects of whatever she did to you.”

  Adrick turned, a deep frown on his face. Eris pressed low between the flowerbeds, hoping the flowers would keep her hidden.

  Adrick let out a soft grunt. “I see it now. I thought the destruction of Elaysia weakened whatever gardeners remained.”

  “And they didn’t scatter far enough. Most went north. How many have reestablished their gardens? What sort of threat will we face the next time? How many of the Conclave will fall then?”

  “The Conclave has grown strong. Look at how much Saffra has changed since the destruction. How much power we’re able to draw now.”

  The other magi laughed. “Saffra hasn’t changed nearly as much as it should have.”

  Adrick’s eyes widened briefly. “But the source…”

  “Oh, we access more of the source than ever before. But had the gardens been fully destroyed, we would already have moved beyond Saffra.”

  “Such stubbornness…I hadn’t counted on it.”

  “None did.”

  “I have never met a flower mage who is anything but delicate. Brittle. This one…” Adrick said it this time with a hint of grudging respect.

  “Perhaps she still touches you.”

  “No, but you are right. She must have a hidden store of power. Or we were incomplete with the destruction of Elaysia.”

  “I thought you saw the gardens after the emissary passed through. It’s how you gained this post.”

  “I did,” Adrick agreed. “I also saw the bodies of the order. This, too, I showed to the Conclave. With so many of us dead, the remainder of the Conclave feared pressing into the forest, but they cannot feed a garden in their forest.”

  “They should not be able to.” The other magi held something in front of him. His narrow body and the draping of his cloak obscured Eris’ view. “This tells me we all underestimated them.”

  “It is but a single flower,” Adrick said.

  “They are like rats. Where there is one, there will be others.” He paused and plucked a flower, holding it up to the light. It slowly shriveled and turned to ash. “I sense this garden is nearly complete. And too close to Saffra. Too close to the palace.”

  A soft sound like that of steps on dry grass caused him to stop. Eris looked around, keeping her head low so Adrick would not see her. She did not understand what he feared, but recognized the fact he planned something against Lira.

  “Keep vigilant.” He paused. “What of this garden? Have you spoken to the gardener? You know the High Seat will be here soon.”

  Adrick grunted. “I have taken all I need from Billiken. I do not need Nels to tell me what I can easily read.”

  The other laughed. “Even after what I’ve shown you, you remain arrogant.” Eris was surprised it came off as a compliment. “It is good you remain confident. The High Seat will like to see so when he arrives.”

  Adrick tensed. “How much time do I have?”

  The other grunted. “A week? I cannot know his mind.”

  “Then I will do what I must.”

  “You think to go to Svanth?”

  Adrick nodded. “If that is what the High Seat commands. I will join the king’s men, find her source, and return.”

  “And then?”
/>   “And then I will destroy it.”

  Chapter 7

  Eris stayed low until she was certain the magi were gone. She didn’t realize until she was alone that she had been gripping the nearest flowerbed tight, her fingers squeezing so hard the blood blanched from them. The palm she had skinned climbing the wall to find the teary star suddenly screamed, and she eased her grip, only to find she had broken the flesh open again.

  She didn’t know what to make of what she’d just heard. The magi meant Lira—of that she had no doubt—but they accused her of having some sort of power she would use against Errasn.

  It made no sense. Everything Eris knew of Lira told her so…but what did she really know of her? She’d come to Eliara when Eris was very young. Since then, she’d gained the ear of the queen. And she did have a strange way of speaking. Was her accent a northern accent?

  She shivered. Could Lira be working against her father? Against the magi?

  The idea seemed too insane to be real, but Adrick and the other magi seemed convinced. And there was the movement in the north for the first time in years, just when the magi thought Lira’s garden was nearly complete.

  She had to say something. She knew she did, but to who? Her mother was so busy with the wedding planning that she wouldn’t have time for her. And her father…he never really had time for her.

  If only Jacen hadn’t been sent from the city. Then she might have someone who would listen. Her sisters certainly wouldn’t. Desia would ignore her while Ferisa would offer a prayer to the Sacred Mother for guidance.

  No…that left Eris.

  But how would she find out if something was up with Lira?

  She needed to be close to her. And that meant getting into classes.

  Of course, none of this mattered if it weren’t true. What if it were simply idle fear from her father’s advisor, worried now that the High Seat of the magi planned to come for the wedding? Maybe Eris had to do nothing at all. Besides, what could she do, really?

  “Are you well, my lady?”

  Eris stood quickly and spun. The assistant gardener watched her with a look of concern, though she wondered if there wasn’t a mix of annoyance added in.