The Iron Queen if-3

by Julie Kagawa

  “Okay,” I whispered, and he was gone.

  Silence filled the room, broken only by the ticking of the clock on the wall and the occasional scuffle from the kitchen. I walked back to the couch and sank down next to Grimalkin, uncertain what to do next. I knew I should find Ash and apologize, or at least explain why I hadn’t wanted him to come. My stomach was in knots, knowing he was angry with me. I had only wanted to spare him more pain; how was I supposed to know releasing a faery from his promise was such a breach of trust?

  “If you are so worried about him,” Grimalkin said into the quiet, “why not ask him to be your knight?”

  I blinked at him. “What?”

  His eyes cracked open, slitted and gold, watching me in amusement. “Your knight,” he said again, slower this time. “You do understand the word, do you not? It has not been that long for humans to forget.”

  “I know what a knight is, Grim.”

  “Oh, good. Then it should be easy for you to understand the significance.” Grimalkin sat up and yawned, curling his tail around his legs. “It is an old tradition,” he began. “Even among the fey. A lady asks a warrior to become her knight, her chosen protector, for as long as they both draw breath. Only those with royal blood can enact this ritual, and the choosing of a champion is something only the lady can do. But it is the ultimate show of faith between the lady and the knight, for she trusts him above all others to keep her safe, knowing that he would lay down his life for her. The knight still obeys his queen and court, to the best of his ability, but his first and only duty is to his lady.” He yawned again and stuck one hind leg into the air, examining his toes. “A charming tradition, to be sure. The courts love such dramatic tragedies.”

  “Why is it a tragedy?”

  “Because,” came Ash’s voice from the doorway, making me jump, “should the lady die, the knight will die, as well.”

  I stood quickly, heart pounding. Ash didn’t enter the room, continuing to watch me from the frame. His glamour aura was hidden, carefully concealed, and his silver eyes were cold and blank. “Walk with me outside,” he ordered softly, and when I hesitated, added, “please.”

  I glanced at Grimalkin, but the cat was curled up once more with his eyes closed, purring in content. Wretched cat, I thought, following Ash down the stairs into the warm summer night. He wouldn’t care if Ash cut me down or turned me into an icicle. Probably has a bet going with Leanansidhe to see how long that will take.

  Shocked and feeling guilty that I could think that, about both Ash and Grimalkin, I trailed the Winter prince across the stream and through the meadow in silence. Fireflies hovered over the grass, turning the clearing into a tiny galaxy of winking lights, and a breeze ruffled my hair, smelling of pine and cedar. I realized I would miss this place. Despite everything, it was the closest to normal I’d come in a long time. Here, I wasn’t a faery princess, I wasn’t the daughter of a powerful king, or a pawn in the eternal struggles of the courts. Tomorrow at dawn, that would all change.

  “If you’re going to release me,” Ash murmured, and I heard the faintest tremor beneath his voice, “do it now so that I can go. I’d rather not be here when you return to the Nevernever.”

  I stopped, which made him stop, though he didn’t turn around. I gazed at his back, at the strong shoulders and midnight-dark hair, at the proud, stiff set of his spine. Waiting for me to determine his fate. If you really cared for him, a voice whispered in my mind, you would set him free. You’d be apart, but he would still be alive. Letting him follow you into the Iron Realm could kill him, you know that. But the thought of him leaving punched a hole in my heart that left me gasping inside. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t let him go. Gods forgive me if I was being selfish, but I wanted nothing more than to stay with him forever.

  “Ash,” I murmured, which made him flinch, bracing himself. My heart pounded, but I ignored my doubts and hurried on. “I…will…” Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and whispered, “Will you be my knight?”

  He spun, eyes widening for the briefest of moments. For a few heartbeats, he stared at me, surprise and disbelief written across his face. I gazed back, wondering if it had been a mistake to ask, if I had only bound him further and he would resent being forced into another contract.

  I shivered as he approached, coming to stand just a few inches away. Slowly, he reached for my hand, barely holding my fingers as his eyes met mine. “Are you sure?” he asked, so quietly the breeze might’ve blown it away.

  I nodded. “But, only if you want to. I would never force—”

  Releasing my hand, he took a half step back, and then lowered himself to one knee, bowing his head. My heart turned over, and I bit my lip, blinking back tears.

  “My name is Ashallyn’darkmyr Tallyn, third son of the Unseelie Court.” Though his voice was soft, it never wavered, and I felt breathless at hearing his full name. His True Name. “Let it be known—from this day forth, I vow to protect Meghan Chase, daughter of the Summer King, with my sword, my honor, and my life. Her desires are mine. Her wishes are mine. Should even the world stand against her, my blade will be at her side. And should it fail to protect her, let my own existence be forfeit. This I swear, on my honor, my True Name, and my life. From this day on…” His voice went even softer, but I still heard it as though he whispered it into my ear. “I am yours.”

  I couldn’t stop the tears anymore. They clouded my vision and rolled down my cheeks, and I didn’t bother to wipe them away. Ash stood, and I threw myself into his arms, feeling him tremble as he crushed me close. He was mine now, my knight, and nothing would come between us.

  “Well,” Puck sighed, his voice drifting over the grass. “I was wondering how long it would take to get to that.”

  I turned, and Ash released me, very slowly. Puck sat on a rock near the stream, fireflies buzzing around him, alighting in his hair and making it glow like embers. He wasn’t smirking or sneering at us. Just watching.

  A flicker of alarm rippled through me as he hopped up and approached, trailing fireflies. How long had he been there, watching us? “Did you hear…?”

  “Ice-boy’s True Name? Nah.” Puck shrugged, lacing his hands behind his head. “Hard as it is to believe, I wouldn’t intrude on something that serious, princess. Especially since I know you’d kill me later.” One corner of his lip twitched, just slightly, nowhere near his usual wide grin. He glanced at Ash and shook his head, his expression one of amusement and…could it be respect? “Mab is going to love that, you know.”

  Ash gave a faint smile. “I find I no longer care what the Winter Court thinks of me.”

  “It’s liberating, isn’t it?” Puck snorted, then sat down in the grass, turning his face to the sky. “So, this is our last night as exiles, huh?” he mused, leaning back on his elbows. Fireflies rose from the grass in a blinking cloud. “It seems weird, but I might actually miss this. No one pulling my strings, no one bossing me around—except irate brownies demanding their brooms back, putting spiders in my bed. It’s…relaxing.” Glancing at me, he patted the ground.

  I lowered myself into the cool, damp grass as blips of amber and green buzzed around us, landing on my hands, in my hair. Looking at Ash, I took his hand and tugged him down, as well. He settled behind me, lacing his arms around my waist, and I leaned against him and closed my eyes. In another life, perhaps, it would’ve been the three of us: me, my best friend, and my boyfriend, just hanging out under the stars, maybe breaking curfew, worried about nothing except school and parents and homework.

  “What are we doing, here?” came Grimalkin’s voice as the cat slipped through the grass beside me, bottlebrush tail in the air. A firefly landed on the tip, and he flicked it off irritably. “This looks remarkably close to relaxing, if I did not know a certain prince is far too uptight to relax.”

  Ash chuckled and drew me tighter against him. “Feeling left out, cait sith?”

  Grimalkin sniffed. “Do not flatter yourself.” But he minced his way across the gra
ss and curled up in my lap, a warm heavy weight with soft gray fur. I scratched behind his ear, and he vibrated with purrs.

  “Do you think my dad will be all right?” I asked, and Grimalkin yawned.

  “He will be safer here than he would be in the real world, human,” the cat replied in a lazy voice. “No one enters this place without Leanansidhe’s permission, and no one leaves unless she allows it. Do not worry overmuch.” He flexed his claws, looking content. “The human will still be here when you return. Or even if you do not. Now, if you would attend to the other ear, that would be nice. Ah…yes, that is quite satisfactory.” His voice trailed off into rumbling purrs.

  Ash laid his cheek against the back of my head and sighed. It wasn’t a sigh of irritation or anger or the melancholy that seemed to plague him at times. He sounded…content. Peaceful, even. It made me a little sad, knowing we couldn’t have more time, that this could be our last night together, without war and politics and faery laws coming between us.

  Ash brushed the hair from my neck and leaned close to my ear, his voice so soft not even Grimalkin could’ve heard it. “I love you,” he murmured, and my heart nearly burst out of my chest. “Whatever happens, we’re together now. Always.”

  We sat there, the four of us, talking quietly or just basking in the silence, watching the night sky. I didn’t see any falling stars, but if I had, I would’ve wished my dad be kept safe, that Ash and Puck would survive the coming war, and that somehow, we all would come out of this okay. If wishes were horses. I knew better. Fairy godmothers didn’t exist, and even if they did, they wouldn’t wave a magic wand and make everything better. (Not without a contract, anyway.) Besides, I had something better than a fairy godmother; I had my faery knight, my faery trickster, and my faery cat, and that was enough.

  In the end, it didn’t matter. A simple wish wouldn’t save us from what we had to do, and my mind was made up. When dawn turned the sky pink and the envoys came for us again, I already had my answer.

  PART TWO

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE EDGE OF IRON

  Faery was not how I remembered.

  I recalled the first time I stepped into the Nevernever through the door in Ethan’s closet. I remembered the enormous trees, so close and tangled that their branches shut out the sky, the mist writhing along the ground, the perpetual twilight that hung over everything. Here in the wyldwood, neither court held sway; it was a fierce, neutral territory that cared nothing for the medieval customs of Summer or the vicious society of Winter.

  And it was dying.

  It was a subtle thing, the taint that had sunk deep into the land and forest, corrupting them from the inside. Here and there, a tree was empty of leaves, and a rosebush had steel thorns that glinted in the light. I walked into a spiderweb, only to discover it was made of hair-thin wires, much like the net the spider-hags had used on me. Outwardly, the change was faint, almost invisible. But the beating heart of the Nevernever, which I felt all around me in every tree, every leaf and blade of grass, was pulsing with rot. Everything was touched with Iron glamour, and it was slowly eating away the Nevernever, like paper held above a flame.

  And, judging from the twin looks of horror on the faces of Ash and Puck, they felt it, too.

  “It’s awful, isn’t it?” said the gnome envoy, gazing around solemnly. “Not long after you were…ahem…banished, the Iron King’s army attacked, and wherever they went, the Iron Realm spread with them. The combined forces of Summer and Winter were able to drive them back, but even after they were gone, the poison remained. Our armies are camped on the edge, where the wyldwood meets the Iron Kingdom, to try to halt the Iron fey that keep pouring from the breach.”

  “You’re only defending the line?” Ash turned his cold gaze on the gnome, who shrank from him. “What about a frontal assault, to close it completely?”

  The gnome shook his head. “It doesn’t work. We’ve sent numerous forces into the breach, but none of them have ever come back.”

  “And the Iron King has never once showed his ugly face in battle?” Puck asked. “He just sits back like a coward and lets the army come to him?”

  “Of course he does.” Grimalkin sniffed, wrinkling his whiskers in distaste. “Why would he endanger himself when he has all the advantages? He has time on his side—the courts do not. Oberon and Mab must be desperate if they are willing to lift your exile. I cannot think of another time when they have been willing to retract their orders.” He blinked and looked at me, narrowing his eyes. “Things must indeed be serious. It appears you are the final hope to save the entire Nevernever.”

  “Thanks, Grim. I certainly needed that reminder.” I sighed, pushing bleak, terrifying thoughts to the back of my mind, and turned to the emissary. “I suppose Oberon is waiting for me?”

  “He is, your highness.” The gnome bobbed his head and pattered off. “This way, please. I will take you to the battlefront.”

  FROM THE TOP OF THE RISE, I looked down into the valley where the Summer and Winter armies were camped.

  Tents were set up in a loose, haphazard pattern, looking like a small city of colored cloth and muddy streets. Even from this distance, I could see the distinction between the Seelie and Unseelie: the Seelie preferred lighter, summer-colored tents of brown and green and yellow, while the Unseelie camp was marked by shades of black, blue, and dark red. Even though they were on the same side, Summer and Winter did not mingle, did not share the same space or even the same side of the valley. In the center, however, where the two camps seemed to converge, a larger structure rose into the air, flying the banners of the two courts side by side. At least Mab and Oberon were trying to get along. For now, anyway.

  Beyond the camps, a twisted forest of glimmering steel marked the entrance into the realm of the Iron King.

  Beside me, Ash scanned the battlefront with narrowed eyes, taking everything in. “They’ve had to fall back several times,” he murmured, his voice low and grave. “The entire camp looks ready to get up and move at a word. I wonder how fast the Iron Realm is spreading.”

  “Guess we’re about to find out,” Puck added, as the gnome emissary beckoned us forward and we descended into the camp.

  The city of tents was much larger and sprawling up close, renewing my uneasiness for walking through a large group of fey, seeing their glowing, inhuman eyes follow my every move. Thankfully, we only had to walk through the Seelie camp to get to the large tent in the middle, though Puck and Ash stayed very close as we navigated the narrow streets. Elegant Summer knights, clad in armor stylized to look like thousands of overlapping leaves, watched us stonily, their eyes never leaving the Winter prince at my side. A pair of sylphs, razor dragonfly wings scraping together, scurried out of our way, staring at me with unabashed curiosity. A tethered griffin raised its head and hissed, flaring a colorful mane of feathers. One of its wings had been damaged, and it dragged along the ground as the griffin limped back and forth.

  “This place smells like blood,” Ash murmured, his eyes darting about the camp. A swamp-green troll hobbled by, one arm burned black and oozing fluid, and I shuddered. “Looks like the war isn’t going well for us.”

  “That’s what I like about you, prince. You’re always so cheerful.” Puck shook his head, gazing around the camp, and wrinkled his nose. “Although I will say, this place has seen better days. Does anyone feel like they’re about to hurl, or is it just me?”

  “It is the iron.” Grimalkin picked his way over a puddle, then leaped atop a fallen tree, shaking out his paws. “This close to the false king’s realm, his influence is stronger than ever. It will be worse once you are actually within its borders.”

  Puck snorted. “Doesn’t seem like it’s affecting you much, cat.”

  “That is because I am smarter than you and prepare for these things.”

  “Really? How would you prepare for me tossing you into a lake?”

  “Puck,” I sighed, but at that moment, two Summer knights approached us, their faces
haughty and arrogant even as they bowed. “Lady Meghan,” one said stiffly, after a venomous glare in Ash’s direction. “His majesty King Oberon will see you now.”

  “You go ahead,” Grimalkin purred, sitting down on the log. “I have no business with Lord Pointy Ears today. I will not be joining you.”

  “Where will you be, Grim?”

  “Around.” And the cat vanished from sight. I shook my head and followed the knights, knowing Grimalkin would reappear when we needed him.

  We approached the large tent, ducking through the flaps as the guards pulled them aside, and entered a forest clearing draped in shadow. Giant trees stretched above us, tiny pin-pricks of light glimmering through their branches. Will-o’-the-wisps danced on the air, swarming around me, laughing, until I waved them away. An owl hooted close by, adding depth to the complex illusion surrounding us. If I looked at the trees from the corner of my eyes, not really focusing on them, I could see the cloth walls of the tent and the wooden poles holding them up. But I could also feel the heat from the humid summer night and smell the earthy scents of pine and cedar all around us. As far as illusions went, this one was near perfect.

  On two thrones in the center of the clearing, as ancient and imposing as the forest itself, the rulers of the Summer Court waited for us.

  Oberon was dressed for battle in a suit of mail that glittered emerald-gold under the illusionary stars. A dappled cape rippled behind him, and his antlered crown cast clawed shadows over the forest floor. Tall, lean, and elegant, his long silver hair braided down his back and a sword at his side, the Erlking watched us approach with alien green eyes that betrayed no emotion, even when they flickered to Ash and Puck, standing beside me, and dismissed them just as quickly.

  Titania sat beside him, and her expression was much easier to read. The faery queen radiated hate, not just for me, but for the Winter prince, as well. She even stabbed a disdainful glare at Puck, but the brunt of her loathing was directed at me and Ash.