The Iron Warrior

by Julie Kagawa

  The rulers of Summer and Winter stood at the head of the table, watching us as we came in. I’d never seen either of them before, but they were instantly recognizable. Oberon, the King of Summer, stood tall and proud at the table edge, silver hair falling down his back, his antlered crown casting jagged shadows over the surface. A pale, beautiful woman stood a few feet away, dark hair cascading around her shoulders, a high-collared cloak draping her armor of red and black. Piercing dark eyes stabbed me over the table, and my insides curled with fear. Mab, the Queen of Winter, was just as dangerous and terrifying as I’d imagined she would be. The only good thing was that Titania, the Summer Queen, appeared to be absent today. The queens’ hatred for each other was well-known, and the situation was volatile enough without two immortal faery rulers having a spat in the middle of the war council.

  There was one faery in the room who could, unintentionally, cause a lot of trouble, just by being himself. Robin Goodfellow lounged against one wall, hands laced behind his head, watching everything with bright green eyes. When he saw me, one eyebrow arched, and he shot me a knowing smirk. I sighed and sidled around the table to stand beside him, not wanting to be too close to the Winter Queen and her retinue. Even though I was the Iron Queen’s brother, I was still fully human, something that was viewed as “lesser” here. Or even quite tasty. At least I didn’t have to worry about some goblin attacking me if I was with the Great Prankster.

  “Hey, Ethan Chase,” Puck greeted softly as I settled beside him, crossing my arms. “Back from the dead, I see. Were there choirs of angels and twinkling lights? I’ve always wondered about that.”

  “Couldn’t tell you,” I muttered. “I don’t remember being dead.”

  “Aw, well, that’s disappointing.” Puck shook his head with a grin. “Dying sounds terribly dull. I was hoping you would prove me wrong.” He sniffed and turned his attention back to the meeting. “Anyway, speaking of dull, these war councils are such a bore. Let’s see if I can guess exactly how this is going to go. First off, Mab will be all cold and threatening, because well, that’s Mab...”

  “Iron Queen,” Mab stated in a cold voice as Meghan and Ash stepped forward. “How good of you to join us. Perhaps you would like to hear the reports of what your son has been doing of late?”

  “I am aware that Keirran is with the Forgotten,” Meghan replied, far more calmly than I would have expected. “I know they have been scouting the borders of Arcadia and Tir Na Nog. They have not, to my knowledge, harmed anyone or made any hostile overtures toward the courts.”

  “Yet,” Mab seethed. “It is obvious they plan to attack, and I refuse to be besieged in my own kingdom. I propose we take the fight to the Forgotten now, before they and their mysterious Lady set upon us en masse.”

  “And now Lord Pointy Ears will jump in with his eternal logic,” Puck went on.

  “How do you plan to do that, Lady Mab?” Oberon asked, his voice like a mountain spring, quiet yet frigid. “We do not know where the Forgotten are, where the rest of this army is hiding. Whenever anyone tries to follow them, they disappear, both from the mortal realm and the Nevernever. How do you propose we find something that does not exist?”

  Puck yawned. “Right on the money,” he mused. “And now we’ll have to endure several minutes of arguing as they try to solve the mystery of where the Forgotten have vanished to.”

  “I know where they are,” I muttered, and he arched a brow at me.

  “Well, maybe you should get in there, human.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t really want to.”

  Mab glared at Oberon. “They cannot simply vanish into thin air,” she snapped. “An entire race of fey cannot simply will themselves into nothingness. It is impossible. They have to be somewhere.”

  Puck raised both brows at me, and I groaned. “They are,” I answered, and shoved myself off the wall. “They’re in the Between.”

  All eyes turned to me. My heart stuttered, but I took a furtive breath and stepped forward, meeting the inhuman stares of a couple dozen fey.

  “King Oberon is right,” I said, moving beside Meghan, feeling the chill of a Winter knight to my left. “The Forgotten can’t be found in the mortal world or the Nevernever because they’re not here. They’re slipping in and out of both worlds, from a place called the Between. It’s—”

  “I know what the Between is, Ethan Chase,” Mab stated coolly, narrowing her eyes. “Most call it the Veil, the curtain between Faery and the mortal realm, the barrier that keeps our world hidden from mortal sight. But the ability for fey to go Between has been lost for centuries. I know of only one who has accomplished it in the past hundred years, and she has not seen fit to share her knowledge with the rest of Faery.”

  Leanansidhe. I knew from Keirran that those who went into the Between were often trapped there, wandering for eternity. The Exile Queen was the only one who had managed to create permanent trods to her mansion in the Between, allowing her network of exiles and half-breeds to come and go as they pleased. But they still needed to use a trod. Not even Leanansidhe could part the Veil and slip between worlds whenever she chose. “Well, it might’ve been lost to the courts, but the Lady, the Forgotten Queen, remembers how,” I said. “And she taught the rest of the Forgotten, too. You haven’t been able to find them because they’re all hanging out in the Between.”

  Mab’s icy black gaze lingered on my face, and I feared she was seeing far too much. “And the Iron Prince?” she asked in a soft, lethal voice, making Meghan stiffen beside me. “He has also been vanishing into thin air whenever we approach. Does he have this special talent? Has the Lady taught him to go Between, as well?”

  I swallowed.

  “Yes,” Ash confirmed before I could say anything. “We have seen it. Whatever old knowledge the Lady brought with her when she awoke, she has taught Keirran, as well. He can move through the Between like the rest of the Forgotten.”

  Oberon raised his head. “Then it seems the Lady has chosen her champion,” he stated in a grave voice. “And so the prophecy comes to pass. Keirran will destroy the courts unless we can stop him. Iron Queen...” He gave Meghan an almost sympathetic look. “You know what you must do. Declare Keirran a traitor and cast him from your court. Only then may we stand united against the Forgotten and the Lady.”

  “What? Whoa, wait a second.” I leaned forward, feeling the frigid edge of the table bite into my hands. “You don’t know what they want. Keirran is only trying to help the Forgotten survive. Yeah, he did it in the most ass-backwards way possible, but maybe you should try talking to them before declaring all-out war.”

  “And what do you know of war, Ethan Chase?” Mab inquired, as her cold, scary gaze settling on me again. “You are the reason we are here, the reason the prophecy has come to pass. It was your presence that allowed the Forgotten to invade, your blood that tore away the Veil, even if it was for but a moment. You and the Iron Prince have brought utter chaos to Faery, and now you dare to tell us that we should be merciful?” Her eyes narrowed, and her lips curled in a terrifying smile. “I have not forgotten your hand in the destruction of my Frozen Wood,” she said, making my blood chill at the memory. I tried to back away, but I suddenly couldn’t move. My hands burned on the edge of the table, and I looked down to see that ice had crept up and sealed my fingers to the surface. “You are lucky that the impending war demands my attention for now,” Mab hissed, “but do not think for a moment that I will let that slide. You and the Iron Prince have much to answer for.”

  “Lady Mab.” Meghan’s steady voice broke through the rising fury. “Please stop terrorizing my brother before I take offense.” My hands were suddenly free, and I yanked them back, rubbing them furiously to start circulation. “I am aware of the prophecy,” Meghan went on, as I stuck my frozen fingers under my arms. “I am aware that, misguided or not, Keirran has done terrible things. But I beg you all to consid
er whom we are dealing with. This is my son, and your kin. Both of you,” she added, looking to the Summer King and the Winter Queen in turn. “Are we going to declare war on our own blood without knowing the details? We are still uncertain as to what the Forgotten and the Lady really want.”

  “I can tell you what she wants,” said a new, familiar voice behind us.

  I spun, as did the rest of the table, to face the entrance of the room. The double doors had been pushed back, and a figure stood in the entryway with a pair of shadowy sidhe knights flanking him.

  Keirran.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  THE LADY’S DEMAND

  I stared at the Iron Prince, a chill sliding up my spine as our eyes met. Keirran’s flat gaze held no emotion, no spark of regret or remorse, nothing but blank apathy. His silver hair was longer now, tied behind him in a loose tail that made him look older and showed off his pointed ears. A tattered cloak draped his shoulders, trailing wisps of shadow that writhed into the air. His shadowy entourage stood rigid behind him, four silhouettes in ghostly gray armor with the glowing yellow eyes of the Forgotten.

  I saw a shiver go through Meghan, saw her lips breathe Keirran’s name, though no sound came out of her mouth.

  “Iron Prince.” Mab’s voice was glacial and lethally soft. “What is the meaning of this? How dare you come into my home uninvited?”

  “Apologies, Queen Mab.” Keirran’s tone could match the Winter monarch’s for chilliness. “But is this not a war council? You have gathered to speak of the Forgotten, what they want, if you should prepare for war. I am here to tell you exactly what you wish to know. Be warned,” he continued, with a quick glance at Meghan and Ash’s side of the table, “I came here in good faith, under the banner of peace. The ancient law states that you may not attack a messenger of war. I trust you all to uphold that policy.”

  “Speak, then,” Oberon said, his voice hard. “Deliver your news, Iron Prince, and be done with it.”

  Keirran bowed, but it was a short, mocking bow, and his eyes remained cold as he straightened. “I come on behalf of the Lady,” he continued in a low, terrible voice. “The Forgotten goddess, the First Queen of Faery. She demands that the Summer and Winter courts be annulled, and that the Nevernever exist as one realm, without borders or boundaries. There will be no Seelie or Unseelie lands, no Arcadia or Tir Na Nog. There will be only Faery, and she will rule the Nevernever as she did in the ancient times, before the courts came to be. Only the Iron Realm will remain as it is.” He glanced at Meghan, whose face had gone pale with horror. “The Lady understands that the Iron fey are integral to Faery, but wants no part of them. Mag Tuiredh will become a separate seat of the Nevernever, and the Iron Realm may still have its queen, if she swears fealty to the Lady and recognizes her as the true monarch of Faery.

  “If these terms are not met,” Keirran went on, “the Lady will declare war on the Nevernever, and she will descend on the courts with her army of Forgotten, to take back what has been stolen, and to restore Faery to what it was.”

  A brittle silence fell over the room, broken only by the frantic thud of my pulse in my ears. Meghan stared at Keirran, and the look on her face made my insides hurt. It was one of complete devastation, shock and denial, and it made me want to smash the prince’s head through the wall. The Iron Queen gazed at her son like she didn’t know him anymore, like the person standing before her was a stranger.

  Then Mab’s laughter rang out, harsh and mocking, making me jump. “You dare, Iron Prince?” she hissed, as the temperature in the room dropped. As if it wasn’t cold enough. “You dare stand with this Lady, this forgotten pretender, and demand that I give up my kingdom? Annul the Winter Court? Blasphemy!” She spat the word at him, and icicles made sharp crinkling sounds as they grew from the walls and floor. “You can tell the Lady that the Winter Court will never bow to usurpers, that she can expect to face the full might of Tir Na Nog on the field of battle.”

  “And the full might of Arcadia,” Oberon chimed in, his own voice making the icicles tremble. “The Summer Court stands with Winter in rejecting your Lady’s claims. If she wants the Seelie Court destroyed, she will have to take it herself.”

  Silence fell once more. Keirran regarded us all without emotion, then looked to Meghan. “And you, Iron Queen?” he asked, when the silence had stretched to a breaking point. “What is your answer?”

  “Keirran.” A lump caught in my throat at the sound of Meghan’s voice, broken and desperate. Almost immediately, however, the queen straightened, regaining her composure and standing with her back tall as she faced the Iron Prince. “Why are you doing this?” she asked in a quiet, yet calm voice. “What can you possibly hope to gain?”

  “Nothing.” Keirran’s answer was completely without emotion. “It’s not for me,” he continued in that same steely tone. “This is for the exiles, and the Forgotten. For too long, they have been ignored. For too long, the exiles have suffered the cruelty of the human world, and the courts have done nothing. It is time to change that, even if I must clear away the old to make room for the new.”

  “This is not your responsibility, Keirran,” came Ash’s voice, deep and controlled, though I could hear the bridled fury beneath. “There are other ways for the Forgotten and the exiles to live. Stop this madness and come home.”

  For the briefest of moments, a tiny, agonized furrow creased Keirran’s brow. But the Iron Prince blinked, and it was gone. “I’ve made my choice,” he said serenely. “I cannot turn from it now.” His cold gaze went to Meghan and narrowed. “It seems I was prophesied to bring destruction to the courts, long before I was born,” he said, making her flinch. “Everyone knew of this. Everyone, except myself. I am only walking the path that has been destined for me all along.”

  “Dammit, Keirran,” I snarled, unable to hold back any longer. “You know that isn’t true. Get your head out of your ass and wake up!”

  He gave me a frigid smile. “You’re very loud for a ghost,” he remarked, making me want to step forward and drive a fist through his teeth. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you lived. You’re too stubborn to stay down for good.” His smile faded then, as his eyes glittered with icy malice. “I am glad that you survived after all, Ethan, but know this. If you get in my way, if you try to stop us, I will kill you. And this time, I’ll make certain that you stay dead and gone.”

  I clenched my fists, but Meghan’s voice rose up before I could do anything. The Iron Queen’s power filled the chamber, sharp and crackling, like the air before a storm. “If you do this, Keirran,” she said, “if you declare war on all of Faery, I will have no choice but to cast you from the Iron Court. You will no longer be welcome, or safe, in Mag Tuiredh, or anywhere in the Nevernever. So, please...” She wavered, very slightly, though her voice remained strong. “Think of what you are doing. There’s still time, to stop this, to find another way.”

  Keirran gazed at her, a faint, sad smile crossing his face, before his eyes hardened and he took a step back. “It’s too late for me, Iron Queen,” he whispered as the knights closed in, surrounding him. “The prophecy has been set in motion, and I must follow it to the end. I will return to the Lady and inform her of your decision.”

  “Really?” Puck had pushed himself off the wall, his green eyes glittering with a dangerous light. “And what makes you think we’re going to let you walk out, princeling?” he asked, smirking in a way that made my skin prickle with fear.

  Keirran didn’t move, though the Forgotten knights stiffened, hands dropping to their sword hilts. “I came here in good faith,” the Iron Prince said calmly, looking not at Puck but at the other rulers. “According to ancient Faery law, a messenger of war may deliver his news without fear of repercussion. I have presented my Lady’s demands, and I have harmed no one while I was here. You must honor tradition and let me go, or the Nevernever itself will rise against you.”
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  I glanced at the table, wondering if this was bullshit, but the grim looks on everyone’s faces told me it was not.

  “Go, then,” Mab said, her voice icy. “Return to your Lady. Tell her that the courts will not bow. We will not submit to her, or the Forgotten. If she rises against us, we will send her and all her followers back to the oblivion from whence they came.”

  Keirran bowed. “As you wish,” he murmured, with one final glance at the rulers of Mag Tuiredh. There might’ve been a hint of regret in his eyes, or I might’ve imagined it. “When next we meet, it will be on the field.”

  And then, he turned and walked away, the knights flanking him once more. No one stopped them. No one said anything as the Iron Prince slipped into the hall without looking back, and the doors creaked shut behind him.

  “It seems,” Oberon’s voice echoed into the deathly stillness that followed, “that the Iron Prince has made his choice.” His tone didn’t change, though you could practically hear the barb, pointed and accusing, as he glanced at Meghan across the table. “What is yours, Iron Queen?”

  Meghan closed her eyes. Her back was turned to the other rulers, but I saw a tear slip down her face. Chilled, I looked at Ash, saw the grim resignation in his eyes, and wanted to kill Keirran for what he had done.

  “I have no choice,” Meghan whispered. Opening her eyes, she took a deep breath, her voice growing stronger, though the heart-wrenching pain on her face never disappeared. “I hereby declare Prince Keirran a traitor to Faery,” she announced in clear, firm tones, “and exile him from the Iron Court. He is no longer under the protection of Mag Tuiredh, and all titles and privileges of rank have been stripped. Let this be made known to all—Keirran is now the enemy of Mag Tuiredh, the Iron Court and the Nevernever.”