Chapter 470

“Oh…oh my god,” Maryam says, taking a step back, shock all over her face. She presses a hand to her heart, shaking her head. “She’s…gone? That’s…that’s so fucking awful…”

“You knew her?” I ask, stepping close to Jackson’s side and glancing at Marigold, wondering if she should be listening to this.

“She was…” Maryam bites her lip, glancing between me, and Jacks, and the baby – clearly intuiting the whole complicated situation. “She was a really lovely person, Ariel. Really determined, and tough, and strong. And she – she really loved this one –“

Tears prick Maryam’s eyes as she reaches for Marigold, stroking a hand over her hair. And then Maryam turns away, I think not wanting the little girl to see her cry.

“Young women in the North are dying nearly every day for want of medical care,” Hank says, his voice grave. Stern, he turns to my father, straightening his shoulders. “I’ve said it before, Dominic, but I hope you’ll listen to me now that the issue has landed on your doorstep. Now that the war with Atalaxia is finished, if you do not turn the entire force of your attention towards the ills of your Northern lands, it will be neglect akin to atrocity.”

“And I for one will never forgive you for it,” Maryam adds, her voice thick with grief but no less strong for the emotion. I glance at her again, thinking that she’s certainly got enough grit to be Queen. Maybe my grandmother knew precisely what she was doing in selecting her as Rafe’s mate.

Even if Maryam herself doesn’t see it yet.

“I think you’re right, Hank,” dad says, his voice low and serious. “And if you can delay your trip for an afternoon, we’ll convene a council right now and see how we can get started on precisely that work.”

I glance up at Jackson by my side, worried for him, wanting his perspective on this. But he just looks back at me stony-faced and shifts his eyes to his little girl, guilt rushing through every bit of him – because he didn’t know, couldn’t get there fast enough to save her mom.

“I’d like to be part of this, if I may,” Rafe asks, stepping forward, quite serious.

“Me too,” Jesse adds, doing the same.

“Oh, of course you do,” Maryam scoffs, rolling her eyes.

Rafe turns to her, wide-eyed, his temper again slipping. “What, now I can’t help? I know a lot, Maryam –“

“Oh, you only suddenly want to help because you have some kind of weird crush on me –“

Rafe scoffs. “I so do not!”

“Then where was all of this attention for the people of the North,” Maryam shoots back, snapping her hands to her hips, “before we met and your stupid wolf-thing declared me its mate?”

“I was in Atalaxia,” Rafe grows, shooting out a hand towards the east. “Fighting a war –“

“Whatever,” Maryam sighs, rolling her eyes, making me burst into a ridiculous grin.

“Whatever!?” Rafe sputters, appalled.

“Okay, children!” Mom says, her voice sing-song as she steps between Rafe and Maryam, grinning just like me. “Let’s cool down now! We all want to help the Community and I think our time is better spent getting to work.”

I laugh a little at my mom’s cool management of the situation before glancing at Rafe, who scowls, and Maryam, who studies him – quite smug. Then I turn my eyes up to Jacks, who, as I may have predicted, is already looking down at me.

“You want to be in on these conversations?” I whisper.

“Yes,” he says, slow, quite grave. “Yes, Ariel. I very much do.”

“Good,” I say, leaning against him and reaching out a hand to pet over Marigold’s hair. “I do too.”

The little girl smiles at me and I smile right back.

In my soul my wolf raises her snout to the sky, howling with her eagerness to do something to help our people.

Dad moves quickly then, murmuring softly to Roger and Cora as he takes out his phone, clearly contacting his advisors and calling them to an emergency Committee. The room bustles with action – mom helping Seraphina clear up the beads, Mark, Jesse and Rafe moving to stand with dad to see how they can help. But my wolf is very satisfied when Hank tucks his hands behind his back and walks over to us, because Jackson deserves some answers.

“Let me take this little rabbit,” Maryam says, quite gentle and friendly, reaching for Marigold. Jackson tilts the little girl towards her friend and Marigold laughs, going happily and easily to Maryam, who takes her over to the window to look outside.

“I’m so sorry, Jackson,” Hank says, coming close and looking up into my mate’s eyes. “I…I should have put it together before.”

“It’s not your fault,” Jackson says with an easy shrug, and down the bond I can tell that he truly holds nothing against this man who is clearly doing so much to help so many people. “As you say, Tasha was likely hiding her identity and going her best not to be found. It’s not your job to see through that kind of subterfuge.”

“Please,” I say, stepping close to Jacks and clasping my hands around his arm, wanting him to feel my support. “Is there anything you can tell us, Hank? About Marigold’s…history?”

Hank sighs and looks over to where his daughter is standing with Marigold, pointing out towards the park that abuts the palace, maybe chatting about some of the animals that live there. “What I know is brief and largely medical. Our little pop-up clinics served…hundreds, maybe thousands of people in need and still barely scratched the surface of what needs to be done up there.” Hank hangs his head, pressing the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “But…that little girl and her mother made an impact. They were hard to forget.”

Jackson tenses next to me and I look up at him, worried. But he simply clenches his jaw and steels himself, wanting to know.

“She wouldn’t tell me much,” Hank says, dropping his hand and lifting his head to again meet Jackson’s eyes. “She was…very proud, wasn’t she?”

“She was willful, yes,” Jackson replies, his voice soft.

Hank nods, his eyes shifting to his daughter and Marigold. “But they were starving. She came for the food at first, not the medical treatment. She didn’t trust us but she was willing to risk it for her daughter. But the second time they came we learned more. We learned that Asha – or, sorry, Tasha, as you call her - was determined to never go back to where she came from, that she’d never let them touch her child. I encouraged her to go South, even to the capital where she could get more aid, but…like so many from the North, her ideas of what happens here in the South were…skewed. She refused, thinking it too dangerous.”

I look up at Jackson and he nods, looking down at me. “We were told that horrible things happen down here. That to go South would result in the worst kinds of death. It makes sense that she wouldn’t want to go – she had no reason to trust that any sort of help would come.”

My heart breaks at this because my mother has worked so hard to establish aid in our cities, to ensure that people get the help they need. My stomach turns at the idea that the Community poisons the mind of their people so completely that they fear the places where they actually could actually get help.

“She told me they lived in a cabin,” Hank says on a sigh, clearly coming to the end of his knowledge. He shrugs. “It was likely a hut. I knew they were starving, I gave them as much food as I could. But…our aid program was mobile and had to move on to a new place. What help we gave was clearly not enough.”

“We should have done more,” I whisper, hanging my head.

Jackson hums his agreement, guilt rushing through him too. Because he got out, of course. But so, so many got left behind.

Including his daughter.

But even as he feels all of that, I pass support down our bond. Because even if we’re too late to help Tasha – there has to be so much we can do now. So many more people who we can help.

Inwardly I set my heart to the task, determined to do it.