by Julie Kagawa
“The Wolf,” he murmured, almost to himself. “The Big Bad Wolf. Few ever live to tell of seeing him.” He shook his head in wonder, glancing back at me. “I wonder why he was after you? Who sent him, that he would track us this far?”
“Mab?” I guessed. Ash snorted and his lips curled in a smirk.
“Mab wants you alive,” he said, walking away from the cave mouth, back toward the gully. I pulled my hood up and hurried after him, jogging through the snow. “You’re no use to her dead. She was very specific about that. Besides, she wouldn’t put me at risk like that.” He paused, frowning slightly. “I think.”
He sounded terribly unsure. I felt a pang of sympathy, that Ash didn’t know if his queen, his own mother, would send the Wolf after us, not caring if it hurt him. I closed the last few paces and reached out to touch his arm.
The Wolf’s giant, bloody head lunged between us with a roar, knocking me back, sending me sprawling. Lightning quick, Ash drew his sword, a second too late. The monster’s jaws clamped shut on his arm, and the Wolf hurled him away. I screamed.
“I told you, you can’t kill me!” the Wolf snarled, stalking toward Ash, who had rolled to his feet with his sword in front of him. The thick, shaggy pelt was covered in blood. It dripped in a steady rain to the ground, raising faint puffs of steam where it struck the snow. Icicles stuck out of his body like a hundred jagged spears. Despite that, he moved smoothly, easily, as if he felt no pain.
“Foolish boy,” the Wolf growled, circling Ash, leaving a crimson trail behind him. “You will not win this. I am immortal.”
“Meghan, run,” Ash ordered, his eyes never leaving the Wolf. His own blood dripped from his sword arm to stain the ground. “The Winter Court isn’t far from here. You’ll be protected—tell whomever you meet that Ash sent you. Run, now.”
“I’m not leaving!”
“Go!”
The Wolf shook himself, sending blood, foam and icicles flying. “I will deal with you momentarily, Princess,” he growled, lowering himself into a crouch. Muscles bunched under his shaggy pelt, and the icicles gleamed as they stuck out of his thigh and bony ribs. “Are you ready, boy? Here I come!”
He leaped. Ash brought up his sword. And I charged the Wolf.
The Wolf hit Ash with the full weight of his body behind him, driving them both into the snow, ignoring the sword that slashed into him. His massive paws slammed into Ash’s chest and arms, pinning the sword beneath them. They hit the ground with the Wolf on top, those huge jaws gaping wide to bite off Ash’s head.
I slammed into the Wolf with every bit of strength I had, aiming for one of those gleaming ice spears, driving my shoulder into it. The sharp edge sliced into me, cutting my skin through the cloak, but I felt the spear jam farther into the Wolf’s ribs. The huge creature let out a startled, painful yelp and swung around, pinning me with a blazing yellow glare.
“Foolish girl! What are you doing? I’m trying to help you!”
Shocked, I stared at him, panting. Still pinned beneath the Wolf, Ash tried to get up, but two giant paws held him down. “What are you talking about?” I demanded. “Let Ash up, if you say you’re helping me.”
The beast shook his head. “I was sent to rescue you and kill this one,” he replied, shifting his weight to better lean on Ash, who gritted his teeth in pain. “You are a prisoner no more, Princess. Just let me finish him off and you can return to the Summer Court.”
“No!” I lunged forward as the Wolf turned back, opening his jaws. “Don’t kill him! I’m not a prisoner. We made a deal, a contract—I would go to the Winter Court in return for his help. He’s not keeping me here by force. I chose this.”
The Wolf blinked slowly. “You made a contract,” he repeated.
“Yes.”
“A contract with this one.”
“Yes!”
“Then…your father was mistaken.”
“Oberon?” I stared at him, aghast. “Oberon ordered you to do this?”
The Wolf snorted. “No one orders me,” he growled, baring his fangs. “The Summer Lord thought you had been captured. He asked me to find you, kill your captor and free you to return to the Summer Court. He thought the hunt might be difficult, so deep within Winter’s territory, and I could not pass up the challenge.” The Wolf paused, scrutinizing me with intense yellow eyes, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. “However, if you have made a deal with the Winter prince, that changes things. The agreement with Oberon was to rescue you from your captor, and you do not have a captor. Therefore…” He snarled in annoyance and reluctantly stepped back, freeing Ash from beneath his paws. “I must honor the contract and let you go.”
He glared at us as he moved aside, the Hunter so close to his prey only to have it ripped from his jaws. I stepped between him and Ash, just in case the Wolf changed his mind, and helped the prince to his feet. Ash’s sword arm bled freely, and the other was wrapped around his ribs, as if the Wolf’s weight had crushed them. Sheathing his blade, he faced our pursuer and gave a slight bow.
The Wolf nodded. “You’re very lucky,” he told Ash. “Today.” Backing off, he shook himself once more and glared at us with grudging respect. “It was a good chase. Pray we do not meet again, for you will not even see me coming.”
Throwing back his head, the Wolf howled, wild and chilling, making the hairs on my neck stand up. Bounding into the trees, his huge dark form vanished instantly, swallowed up by snow and shadows, and we were alone.
I looked at Ash in concern. “Are you all right? Can you walk?”
He took a step and winced, sinking to one knee. “Give me a moment.”
“Come on.” I slipped an arm under his shoulder and carefully eased him upright. The clearing looked like a war zone: trampled snow, crushed vegetation and blood everywhere. It could attract Unseelie predators and, though I was sure none were as scary as the Big Bad Wolf, Ash was in no shape to fight them off. “We’re going back to the cave.”
He didn’t argue, and together we limped across the clearing to the ice cave, ducking inside. The floor was a mess of shattered icicles, making passage difficult and treacherous, but we found a clear space near the back of the room. Ash sank down against the wall, and I tore a strip off the hem of my cloak.
He was silent as I wrapped the makeshift bandage around his arm, but I could feel his eyes on me as I tied it off. Releasing his arm, I looked up to meet his silvery gaze. Ash blinked slowly, giving me that look that meant he was trying to figure me out.
“Why didn’t you run?” he asked softly. “If you didn’t stop the Wolf, you wouldn’t have to come back to Tir Na Nog. You would have been free.”
I scowled at him.
“I agreed to that contract, same as you,” I muttered, tying off the bandage with a jerk, but Ash didn’t even grunt. Angry now, I glared up at him, meeting his eyes. “What, you think just because I’m human I would back out? I knew what I was getting into, and I am going to uphold my end of the bargain, no matter what happens. And if you think I would leave you to that monster just so I wouldn’t have to meet Mab, then you don’t know me at all.”
“It’s because you’re human,” Ash continued in that same quiet voice, holding my gaze, “that you missed a tactical opportunity. A Winter fey in your position wouldn’t have saved me. They wouldn’t let their emotions get in the way. If you’re going to survive in the Unseelie Court, you have to start thinking like them.”
“Well, I’m not like
them.” I rose and took a step back, trying to ignore the feelings of hurt and betrayal, the stupid angry tears pressing at the corners of my eyes. “I’m not a Winter faery—I’m human, with human feelings and emotions. And if you want me to apologize for that, you can forget it. I can’t just shut off my feelings like you can. Though the next time you’re about to get eaten or killed, I guess I won’t bother saving your life.”
I whirled to stalk away in a huff, but Ash rose with blinding speed and gripped my upper arms. I stiffened, locking my knees and keeping my back straight, but struggling with him would have been useless. Even wounded and bleeding as he was, he was much stronger than me.
“I’m not ungrateful,” he murmured against my ear, making my stomach flutter despite itself. “I just want you to understand. The Winter Court preys on the weak. It’s their nature. They will try to tear you apart, physically and emotionally, and I won’t always be there to protect you.”
I shivered, anger melting away as my own doubts and fears came rushing back. Ash sighed, and I felt his forehead touch the back of my hair, his breath fanning my neck. “I don’t want to do this,” he admitted in a low, anguished voice. “I don’t want to see what they’ll try to do to you. A Summer faery in the Winter Court doesn’t stand much of a chance. But I vowed that I would bring you back, and I’m bound to that promise.” He raised his head, squeezing my shoulders in an almost painful grip as his voice dropped a few octaves, turning grim and cold. “So, you have to be stronger than they are. You can’t let down your guard, no matter what. They will lead you on, with games and pretty words, and they will take pleasure in your misery. Don’t let them get to you. And don’t trust anyone.” He paused, and his voice went even lower. “Not even me.”
“I’ll always trust you,” I whispered without thinking, and his hands tightened, turning me to face him almost savagely.
“No,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “You won’t. I’m your enemy, Meghan. Never forget that. If Mab tells me to kill you in front of the entire court, it’s my duty to obey. If she orders Rowan or Sage to carve you up slowly, making sure you suffer every second of it, I’m expected to stand there and let them do it. Do you understand? My feelings for you don’t matter in the Winter Court. Summer and Winter will always be on opposite sides, and nothing will change that.”
I knew I should be afraid of him. He was an Unseelie prince after all, and had basically admitted he would kill me if Mab ordered him to. But he also admitted to having feelings for me—feelings that didn’t matter, true, but it still made my stomach squirm when I heard it. And maybe I was being naive, but I couldn’t believe Ash would willingly hurt me, even in the Winter Court. Not with the way he was looking at me now, his silver eyes conflicted and angry.
He stared at me a moment longer, then sighed. “You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?” he murmured, closing his eyes.
“I’m not afraid,” I told him, which was a lie; I was terrified of Mab and the Unseelie Court that waited at the end of this journey. But if Ash was there, I would be all right.
“You are infuriatingly stubborn,” Ash muttered, raking a hand through his hair. “I don’t know how I’m going to protect you when you have no concept of self-preservation.”
I stepped close to him, placing a hand on his chest, feeling his heart beat under his shirt. “I trust you,” I said, rising up so our faces were inches apart, trailing my fingers down his stomach. “I know you’ll find a way.”
His breath hitched, and he regarded me hungrily. “You’re playing with fire, you know that?”
“That’s weird, considering you’re an ice prin—” I didn’t get any further, as Ash leaned in and kissed me. I looped my arms around his neck as his snaked around my waist, and for a few moments, the cold couldn’t touch me.
* * *
We spent the night in the cave, both to give Ash a chance to heal from his wounds and to give us one more night of rest before entering Tir Na Nog. It didn’t take long for Ash to recover. The fey heal insanely fast, especially if they are within their own territories, and by the time darkness fell his bite wounds were almost gone. As the temperature dropped, he started a fire, solely for my benefit, and we sat around the flames sharing the last of the food, lost in our own thoughts.
Outside, the snow continued to fall, piling outside the entrance and in the center of the room through the holes in the ceiling. It sparkled in the icy moonlight, like flakes of diamonds drifting from the sky, tempting me to stand in the center of the light and catch them on my tongue.
Ash was silent through most of the evening. He’d broken the kiss earlier, pulling away with a guilty, agonized look, and mumbled something about making camp. Since then, he’d given me short, one-word answers whenever I tried talking to him, and avoided eye contact whenever possible.
He sat across from me now, chin on his hands, brooding into the fire. Part of me wanted to walk up to him and hug him from behind, and part of me wanted to hurl a snowball at his perfect face to get some kind of reaction.
I opted for a less suicidal route. “Hey,” I said, poking at the flames with a stick, making them cough sparks. “Earth to Ash. What are you thinking about?”
He didn’t move, and for a second I thought he would reply with his favorite one-word answer of the night: nothing. But after a moment he sighed and his eyes flickered, very briefly, to mine.
“Home,” he said quietly. “I’m thinking of home. Of the court.”
“Do you miss it?”
Another pause, and he shook his head slowly. “No.”
“But it’s your home.”
“It’s the place I was born. That’s all.” He sighed and gazed into the fire. “I don’t go back often, and I rarely stay at court for any length of time.”
I thought of Mom, and Ethan, and our tiny little farmhouse out in the bayou, and a lump rose to my throat. “That must be lonely,” I murmured. “Don’t you get homesick once in a while?”
Ash regarded me across the flames, understanding and sympathy dawning in his gaze. “My family,” he said in a solemn voice, “is not like yours.”
He rose gracefully, abruptly, as if the subject had become tiring. “Get some sleep,” he said, and the chill was back in his voice. “Tomorrow we reach the Winter Court. Queen Mab will be anxious to meet you.”
My gut twisted. I curled up inside my cloak, as close to the fire as I dared, and let my mind go blank. I was certain that Ash’s last words would prevent me from getting any sleep, but I was more exhausted than I realized and soon drifted into oblivion.
That night, for the first time, I dreamed of the Iron King.
The scene was eerily familiar. I stood atop a great iron tower, a hot wind stinging my face, smelling of ozone and chemicals. Before me, a huge metal throne rose into the mottled yellow sky, black iron spikes raking the clouds. Behind me, Ash’s cold, pale body was sprawled against the edge of a fountain, blood oozing slowly into the water.
Machina the Iron King stood at the top of his metal throne, long silver hair whipping in the wind. His back was to me, the numerous iron cables extending from his shoulders and spine surrounding him like glittering wings.
I took a step forward, squinting up at the silhouette on the throne. “Machina!” I called, my voice sounding weak and small in the wind. “Where’s my brother?”
The Iron King raised his head slightly, but didn’t turn around. “Your brother?”
“Yes, my brother. Ethan. You stole him and bro
ught him here.” I kept walking, ignoring the wind that tore at my hair and clothes. Thunder boomed overhead, and the mottled yellow clouds turned black and crimson. “You wanted to lure me here,” I continued, reaching the base of the throne. “You wanted me to become your queen in exchange for Ethan. Well, here I am. Now let my brother go.”
Machina turned. Only it wasn’t the Iron King’s sharp, intelligent face that stared down at me.
It was my own.
* * *
I jerked awake, my heart hammering against my ribs, cold sweat trickling down my back. The fire had gone out, and the ice cave lay dark and empty, though the sky showing through the holes was already light. Snow lay in huge glimmering piles where it had drifted in through the roof, and several new icicles were already forming on the ceiling, growing back like teeth. Ash was nowhere to be seen.
Still trembling from the nightmare, I rolled away from the dead campfire and stood, shaking snow clumps from my hair. Pulling my cloak tighter around myself, I went searching for Ash.
I didn’t have to look far. He stood outside in the clearing, snow flurries drifting around him, his sword glowing blue against the white. From the sweeping footprints in the snow, I knew he’d been practicing sword drills, but now he stood motionless, his back to me, gazing toward the entrance of the gully.
I pulled up my hood and walked out, tromping through the deep snow until I stood beside him. He acknowledged me with a flick of his eyes, but otherwise didn’t move, his gaze riveted to the edge of the canyon.
“They’re coming,” he murmured.
A group of horses appeared then, seeming to materialize out of the falling snow, pure white and blue-eyed, trotting a few inches above the ground. Atop them sat Winter knights in icy blue-and-black armor, their gazes cold beneath their snarling wolf helms.