They tore through the skies, headed straight for the ship—and then blew past it. “Oy!” I yelled. “Where are ye goin’?”
“She did say drop her off, didn’t she, Badb?” Macha asked in a tinkling voice, doubling back, only much higher up this time.
“That she did, Macha,” her sister replied.
Oh. Of all the stupid fucking…
Except I never got to finish the thought, because suddenly I was falling from the sky. As the wind whistled past my ears, my torn clothing snapping in the wind, the pure, unadulterated chaos of my current situation struck me, and I felt oddly comforted. That might not make sense to most people.
But chaos was my element.
I quickly came within shouting distance of the ship full of Neverland sailors, only to find them pointing up at me in mild fascination—probably under the assumption that I was flying.
Please, I thought.
Anybody could fly.
But not everyone could fall…with style.
Unfortunately, it turned out neither could I; Hook’s men had to fetch me from the rigging, in which I had—quite generously, I might add, considering the damage I might have done to the deck had I landed on it—ended tangled up in.
My aunts joined us after the crew brought me down, laughing so hard I thought they might die. Which would have been for the best since I was definitely going to kill them, once this was all over.
Captain James Hook stared at me for a long moment after I’d finished explaining my arrival, my body still covered in rope burns. He looked surprisingly happy to see me, under the circumstances. Of course, that might have had something to do with the fact that I’d just admitted to opening the Gateway.
He held out his strong hand and slapped me on the shoulder, good-naturedly, as if I’d done something especially praiseworthy. “And it’s a good thing you did,” he finally said, smirking, looking perhaps ten years younger than when I’d last seen him. “The crew was getting restless. Lazy.” The crew of the Jolly Roger certainly didn’t seem lazy at the moment; they swung down from ropes attached to the masts, attacking the Fomorians from above like swashbuckling Tarzans.
We were constantly moving, which meant I was constantly stumbling as I proceeded to let Hook in on my plan, such as it was.
Hook, who never seemed to consciously adjust his balance and yet never lost his footing, rubbed at his jaw with his strong hand. “Sounds like a suicide mission,” he admitted, once I finished.
“Aye, it does, doesn’t it?” I replied, smirking.
Hook flashed a grin, shaving off another five years. “The crew’ll love it.” He spun away and marched off towards the helm, and soon we were flying towards the rear of the armada, to the surprise of many of the sailors onboard. My aunts, meanwhile, were staring at me like I’d started speaking in tongues.
“That’s your plan?” Macha said, finally.
“The Manlin’ with a death wish is right,” Badb said. “This won’t be pretty, and could wind up gettin’ every one of the Fae killed. Once Balor has his real eye back, he’ll be unstoppable.”
“Oh, come on,” I said, hugging the nearest barrel so I didn’t go flying every two seconds, my wild side practically humming in contentment, “where’s your sense of adventure?”
The two ancient goddesses exchanged exasperated looks and walked off.
Haters.
The Jolly Roger pulled up alongside the USS Cyclops, making it possible for me to leap from one vessel to the other. “Wait here,” I called, the instant I was across.
Hook raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.
Good enough.
I sprinted towards the silver pyramid and the throne room within, praying the Goblin King was onboard. For my plan to work, I needed Oberon’s help; he had access to information I couldn’t find anywhere else, provided he was willing to part with it. My aunts had offered to come and shake it out of him, but I couldn’t risk it; if Oberon suspected the three of us had joined forces, he’d never agree to help—especially considering my aunts’ first campaign promise had been to boot Oberon and the Queens out of office at the earliest opportunity.
I took the stairs leading to the throne room doors two at a time, joining a host of goblin interns running to and from with orders from the Goblin King. I’d almost made it to the top when it occurred to me that I’d forgotten one very important detail: Oberon’s guards. And, who should I see guarding the throne room door—Babe No-Tooth.
Or, as was now a more appropriate moniker…
Babe No-Hands.
My guess was that he’d probably been on guard duty during Alucard and my escape. That, or he’d lost his hands in some sort of industrial accident since I’d last seen him.
Could have gone either way.
Regardless, someone really should have pointed out that he was pretty much shit as a guard, now that he had no hands.
“You!” Babe No-Hands shouted as I approached, pointing at me with his stumpy wrist.
See? Did he expect to bludgeon me into submission with his stumps or something?
But words can hurt, so I didn’t belittle him about it.
Remember, actions speak louder.
“Me!” I shouted back, then pushed one of the stray intern goblins into the guard, sending them both flying off the top of the stairs with a crash. I craned my neck to look down at the poor bastards and realized both were unconscious. Maybe dead. I snatched up one of the interns by his ear, yanking him close and pointing. “Give that one a hand.”
Then I shoved him away and ducked inside the throne room, feeling a little bad for tossing the first intern; hopefully, he hadn’t been carrying anything too important. The throne room was chaos incarnate, with goblins milling everywhere, most of them little more than shapes in the darkness. I forced my way through the throng, shoving goblins aside like I was competing for the Heisman.
“What are you doing here?” King Oberon shouted, hopping up on his white leather chair—which actually made him a little taller than me.
The few goblins still in my way stepped aside, their eyes flitting between their king and me.
“I need to know where the Winter Queen is,” I replied.
Oberon’s eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed suspiciously. “Why?”
I sighed. This was the part of my plan I was the least fond of: telling the truth. “I want to take custody of Balor’s eye and use it to kill him and all his minions,” I replied, matter-of-factly.
The goblins began chattering away amongst themselves.
“Silence!” the Goblin King commanded. He waited until we could have heard a pen drop before speaking again. “Are you insane?” he hissed.
“Ye know,” I replied, frowning, “I’ve had quite a few of ye lot askin’ me that lately,” I sighed.
“This isn’t a game,” Oberon snapped, hands balled into fists at his side. “If Balor regains the power of his eye, he’ll lay waste to everything. Our realm, your realm. None of us will be safe.”
“None of ye are safe, now,” I replied, scathingly.
The goblins, as one, turned to face me, betrayed by their terrified expressions.
“What I’m plannin’ isn’t smart. Hell, it isn’t even sane,” I admitted. I stepped forward until the two of us were close enough to touch, and met the Goblin King’s eyes, hoping he’d glimpse what lurked behind mine. That he’d be able to see my wild side—the savage creature within who refused to bow and scrape, who associated fear with fun, who would rather die than lose. “But, personally,” I said, finally, “I t’ink sanity is overrated.”
The Goblin King studied my face. “Fine, but I’m going with you.”
“What? Why?” I asked, brow furrowed.
“Few reasons,” he said, raising a finger for each, “one, if you go alone, she’ll think you’ve come to kill her. Two, if you go alone, she’ll probably try to kill you. And three, I’m the King and I do as I please,” he replied, making a fist. “Take it or leave it.”
&nb
sp; “I’ll take it,” I replied, with a sigh.
What a royal pain in the ass.
Chapter 38
Oberon stared up at me with an incredulous look on his face in response to my confession. “What do you mean you don’t know how to create a Gateway?” he exclaimed, showcasing the massive rift between the two worlds with both arms. “What do you call that? Because to me, it looks like a giant fucking Gateway.”
“Beginner’s luck?” I offered, already regretting admitting to having created the Gateway. “Listen, I don’t know how I did that. I just did it.”
“You and your aunts, you mean,” Oberon said, his tone shifting completely, catching me off-guard.
I winced, but didn’t deny it.
“I thought so,” Oberon said, his jaw bunching. “Which means, even if we survive this, my reign will end.”
I snorted. “I wouldn’t worry about me aunts takin’ over Fae, no matter what they say. I’ve seen inside their heads. Both want the authority, but neither want the responsibility.” I nudged the Goblin King playfully, something he was utterly unused to, thus earning me a fierce glare. “Now, how about ye show me how to make this damn Gateway? We’re runnin’ out of time.”
As if to punctuate my remark, one of Oberon’s Greek warships exploded at that very moment, sending gouts of flame soaring into the air. I grimaced. The trouble was—while Oberon’s armada clearly had the advantage in a straight fight—Balor’s control of the waters made it nearly impossible for Oberon’s sailors to do anything but stave off the giants as they navigated the whirlpools and waterspouts.
“Fine,” Oberon said, snatching my hand. “I can teach you later. Let’s go.” I felt a tug on my belly button as the Goblin King stepped forward, whole landscapes within Fae blurring past. Some, like Neverland, I thought I recognized.
Hell, at one point I could have sworn I saw Camelot with its stone terraces and magnificent banners, besieged by the smoke of a thousand campfires.
Others were so bizarre I felt I could only have imagined them.
A forest of mushrooms as tall as trees.
A city in the sky connected by bridges.
At last, after several more steps, Oberon released me, and I found myself in the deep, dark cave I’d visited in what felt like a lifetime ago.
Where the Winter Queen had offered me a job.
“What the fuck was that?” I asked as a wave of vertigo struck me all at once, my knees threatening to buckle.
“Seven-league boots,” Oberon said, smirking as he tapped one heel against the ground a few times. “Limited edition.”
“I’m goin’ to throw up,” I said, propping myself up against a wall, bent slightly over.
“It’ll pass. You’ll be fine in a moment,” Oberon said.
“No,” a woman’s voice said. “No, I don’t think she will.” I noticed something sharp had been pressed against my throat—an icicle as long as my arm, held by an old hag in stiletto heels.
The Winter Queen.
Oh, and did I mention the bitch had dogs now? Hounds as big as horses with glowing eyes prowled the shadows just outside the throne room, where we stood. Talk about a security upgrade.
“Nice to see ye again, Your Majesty,” I quipped. “It’s been too long.”
The tip of the icicle sunk deeper into my throat, causing real discomfort this time. “What are you doing here?” she asked, though I was fairly certain no answer I gave her was going to convince the Queen to stop poking me.
“She’s with me,” King Oberon interjected, slowly removing the icicle from my neck, like someone adjusting the needle on a record player.
The Winter Queen stared haughtily down at Oberon, as if he were a child who’d just demanded he be treated like an adult. “And what are you doing here, Oberon? Shouldn’t you be guarding our borders?”
The King and I exchanged looks. “Fae has been invaded,” Oberon replied, choosing to leave out the finer details—like how I’d kicked open the door and gotten the party started. Probably for the best.
“And I need Balor’s eye,” I added, earning a glare from the Goblin King, which I promptly ignored. Granted, a more diplomatic approach might have been better suited to the situation, but I didn’t have time to exchange pleasantries with the Faerie Queen on the off-chance I’d misjudged her.
The Winter Queen looked like she might explode, a vein appearing on her forehead like a crack in the ice, before marching off with a dramatic scream. “Return to your post, Oberon!” she commanded, heels punching holes in the ice-covered floors of her throne room. “Or else I will call off this truce and have your head for trespassing.”
The Goblin King barked a laugh, only a few steps behind the Fae Queen, his boots unaffected by the slick floor. “You know as well as I do that if Balor defeats my fleet—which he will at this rate—decapitation would be a preferable outcome. I suggest you hear the girl out.”
“You think I should give her the very eye I’ve been charged with hiding from Balor? So she can bring it right to him?” The Winter Queen exclaimed, whirling back around, her face outraged.
“And who charged you with that, again?” Oberon asked, his eyes glinting beneath the light of the strobing fish dancing above our heads—the only source of light to speak of.
“The Tuatha,” the Winter Queen snapped. “As if you didn’t know.”
“Yes, but which one?” Oberon asked, taking a step forward, peering up at his fellow royal with an impish expression on his face. “Which of the Fae Court raised you above the others, on the condition that you never use the power of Balor’s eye for your own gain?”
The Winter Queen’s eyes flicked to my face, then away again. “It doesn’t matter. She’s dead.”
“Aye, she is,” I replied, skirting around Oberon until I was close enough to the Queen to see the pulse in her neck jump. “But her daughter,” I said, picking up on Oberon’s not-so-subtle hints, “is right fucking here.”
The Queen eyed me up and down, skeptically. “That’s not possible,” she said.
“Drop the act,” I snapped. “Ye knew all along who I was. That’s why ye brought me here and offered me a place at your side, months ago.”
“You did what?” Oberon growled, his face tight with anger.
“Easy there, Lyin’ King,” I said. “Ye did the same, not twenty-four hours ago.”
“He what?!” the Queen exclaimed.
I sighed, quickly realizing my aunts may have been right to question the current state of Fae politics; if the ruling class was this divided, this cutthroat, I doubted the ruled were having their needs met.
“Enough!” I barked, before either could start in on the other. “I’ve come for the eye, and I mean to have it.”
“Over my dead body,” the Winter Queen snapped.
“That,” I snarled, “can be arranged.” At that precise moment, I felt something inside me give way. Not my wild side; she and I were totally on the same page at the moment.
Get the eye.
Bludgeon Balor.
Dismember Dobby.
Save Boston and the Fae.
No…this was a subtler sensation than anything my wild side had to offer. Of course, I might have overlooked it altogether it weren’t for the fact that—clearly—I wasn’t the only one who’d picked up on the change: both the Queen and Oberon had drawn back from me, simultaneously, the whites of their eyes visible.
Oberon recovered first, coughing as if to clear his throat. “I suggest you do as she asks,” he supplied.
“Are you telling me she sided with you?” the Winter Queen demanded.
The Goblin King smirked, clearly content to let her think so. In fact, that’s probably why he’d insisted on coming with me—anything to advance his own agenda. Of course, it was possible I was being uncharitable. Either way, I didn’t have time for their political bullshit.
“I side with no one,” I replied, taking a threatening step forward, the ice beneath my feet crackling. The two royals recoiled, sh
uffling backwards. “The actions I take,” I continued, “are me own. Always. If either of ye ever t’ink that—even for a moment—you’re ever goin’ to convince me otherwise, you’re dead fuckin’ wrong. And by the time ye take your last breath, you’ll be certain of it.” I took another step, and suddenly the luminescent fish above our heads froze in place—the abrupt change making the two royals jump. “I’m Quinn MacKenna, Morrigan’s daughter, and I am not to be trifled with.”
The Queen whimpered, drawing my attention—but soon it was held by something else altogether: the face I saw in the smooth, reflective surface of her icy throne. My eyes were the first thing I noticed—emerald green and glowing, even the sclera, like moss-covered ponds beneath the summer sun. Next was my hair, a curtain of flame that framed my face—a face sculpted by hands that knew nothing of imperfection. I looked so beautiful…and yet so very, very cruel.
I closed my eyes.
And took a deep, calming breath.
A moment later, I opened them. The fish had resumed swimming, the play of their carefree light enough to distract me for a moment. I took another breath—glancing at the throne’s reflective surface once more to make sure I was my old self—before turning my attention to the two royals, who watched me like I was a bomb that might explode at any moment. “Well, now,” I said, smiling reassuringly, “I’d very much like ye to bring me Balor’s eye, if ye would.”
The Queen jerked her head fitfully. “I’ll…be right back.”
The Goblin King said nothing, though it was clear from his wary expression that he and I weren’t hitting up the batting cages together anytime soon. Not that I blamed him; even I wasn’t sure I was safe to be around, at this point. Oh well, I decided—guess I’d have to pick somebody else’s brain regarding Gateways. Fortunately, I had a few experts to choose from.
Networking, people.
It’s all about the networking.
Chapter 39
The Winter Queen returned with a box swaddled in cloth—the iron stench it carried making my nose rankle. Unfortunately, she also seemed to have recovered at least a portion of her previous attitude; she held the box out only partway, as if waiting for me to come collect it. I rolled my eyes and moved to take it from her—if being petty made her feel better, so be it.
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