by Julie Kagawa
“Well, that was...fun,” I gasped. “Nothing like running from a horde of cursed undead to make you appreciate being alive, right, ice-boy?”
“I...am going to kill you,” Ash panted in return.
I laughed and pushed myself upright, brushing snow, dirt, and ice flecks out of everything, then grinned at the Winter prince as he rose.
“Not today, princeling. No offense, but I’ve officially gotten tired of snow and ice and anything colder than a spring breeze. I think I need a month in the steam caverns just to thaw out.” I rubbed my hands together, blowing on frozen fingers, before shaking myself and giving the Winter prince a mocking salute. “See you around, princeling,” I announced. “And don’t worry about that rematch, I’m sure we’ll run into each other again.” I grinned at his glowering expression. “But if you ever get bored and want to do something exciting, come find me. I know lots of places just begging for the two of us to come knocking on their doors.”
Ash narrowed his eyes. “If I see you again, Summer jester, it will be to run a sword through your heart,” he warned as I started walking away. “Don’t think this makes us even, Goodfellow. We can’t be anything more than enemies. Our next meeting will be the last.”
Suffice to say, that wasn’t true.
14
YET ANOTHER PROPHECY
Coaleater was already in the courtyard, leaning against a trunk with his arms crossed, his eyes glowing red in the shadow of the tree. Meghan and ice-boy hadn’t arrived yet, and I didn’t see Grimalkin around, though knowing the cait sith, he could have been anywhere. The same could be said of Nyx, who was also missing. Or at least, not visible at the moment. I wondered if she was hiding in the trees or behind a lamppost, waiting to stab me if I wandered by.
The Iron faery glanced up, then pushed himself off the tree, stretching his massive shoulders. I grimaced as he bent his head to each side with the grinding of what sounded like metal against metal.
“Geez, tin can, how long have you been standing there? Need a little oil between the ears so you don’t rust in place?”
“I am eager to get started,” Coaleater replied calmly, rolling his shoulders back. “If this beast is what is causing the disturbance to the Obsidian Plains, I wish to dispose of it as quickly as possible. That I will be fighting alongside the Iron Queen once more is a great honor. I did not want to cause her any doubt by being late.”
“Yeah,” I muttered, gazing around. “So, where is everyone else? You haven’t seen Nyx hiding in a potted fern or something, have you?”
“Potted ferns are impractical,” said a voice behind me.
I turned to see Nyx step out from behind a tree, where I was certain nothing had been a few seconds ago. Her hood was up, but her eyes shone brightly as she met my gaze, raising a quizzical silver brow. “They make too much noise, and I don’t like all the dirt in my hair. Topiaries work much better, or vases will do in a pinch.”
I wasn’t sure if the Forgotten was joking or not, but at that moment I felt a ripple of power go through the air as the rulers of the Iron Court walked toward us, followed by a very anxious-looking Fix. The Iron Queen was dressed for travel in black jeans, boots, and a coat, her steel sword at her waist. Ash looked the same as he always did, dark and dangerous, his ice blade throwing off a cold blue aura that left tendrils of mist behind him.
Our eyes met over the yard, and for the barest of heartbeats, I could see the question in his eyes. The briefest flicker of hope that we might be okay, that I was back to my normal, goofy, annoying self. That I hadn’t meant what I told him on this very spot, earlier this evening.
I gave him a hard smile and saw that hope vanish instantly, replaced with the blank mask he used to shield his emotions from everyone. Nobody saw it, not even Meghan, who, by the distinct lack of worried or angry glares shot my way, was not aware of our conversation, either. For the moment, it seemed Ash was keeping what went on between us private, which was fine with me. Better that Meghan not become involved; she had enough to worry about. This was just between ice-boy and Robin Goodfellow.
“Is everyone here?” Meghan asked, striding to the center of the group. Her gaze went to Nyx, waiting quietly at my side, and a smile crossed her face. “Nyx. I’m glad to see you on your feet. Are you feeling better?”
The Forgotten bowed her head. “Yes, Your Majesty,” she replied. “I apologize for the worry I caused this afternoon. It won’t happen again, I assure you.”
“No apologies necessary,” Meghan said. “Any friend of Puck and Keirran’s is family here. If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask.”
Nyx gave a solemn nod, which Meghan returned. And for just a moment, I felt a weird ripple of...something...go through me. Meghan and Nyx. The woman I’d loved once and lost, and the assassin who had threatened to kill me but was somehow always in my thoughts. I could see shadows of Meghan in Nyx, and vice versa, that same strength, courage, and determination, though they were two vastly different people.
I’ve seen that look before, Ash had told me earlier. Not often, but enough. You’re falling for her.
No. No way. Nope, nope, nope, I wasn’t going to do this again. It hurt way too much the last time.
“So, to paraphrase a certain cat, are we going to get started or not?” I wondered loudly. “The wyldwood isn’t getting any closer. I take it that, since we’re not perched on the very tippy top of the palace roof, we’re not using gliders this time.”
Gliders were the Iron Realm’s special mode of transportation. Basically, they were giant metal dragonflies that you rode on the wind currents, but not in a normal way that you would ride say, a horse. Nope, these things carried you in their creepy metal insect legs, kind of like a living hang glider, and you yanked on said insect legs to steer them in the direction you wanted to go. They were huge and disturbing and buzzed in your ear the entire time, and I hated using them even more than I hated the spider carriages.
“No, we’re not using the gliders,” Meghan said to my immense relief. “There’s a rather steep learning curve to fly them properly, and I suspect Coaleater will be too big for them to carry.” She gave the Iron horse a respectful nod; he only shrugged. “I’ve sent for a pair of carriages,” the Iron Queen went on. “They’ll take us to the edge of the wyldwood. From there, I trust Grimalkin will lead us the rest of the way.”
I still didn’t see Grimalkin, but I had no doubt he was around, listening to us. Meghan knew it, too. We had dealt with the cait sith often enough to know he would pop up when he was needed and not before.
“Oh goodie,” I sighed. “Carriages. What will these be, I wonder? Giant spiders or those enormous beetles the size of a blimp?”
Meghan gave a weird little smile. “No bugs this time, Puck.” She raised her head to the wind, as if hearing something we could not, and the smile got wider. “They’re coming. Everyone might want to take a few steps back.”
I frowned, but then the hairs on my arms started to rise. The air turned sharp, like the energy before a storm, and a flicker of lightning from the clear night sky made my hair stand up the rest of the way. I took several steps back, as did everyone else, as a blinding flash of blue-white energy struck the center of the courtyard, making me flinch and shield my eyes.
When I looked up, two carriages glowed and flickered in the spot I had been standing moments before. They had no wheels and seemed to float in the air, two giant coppery spheres hovering several inches off the ground. They were pulled by a pair of white, deerlike creatures with horns that spiraled into the air like corkscrews. Their eyes were electric blue, and strands of lightning crawled along their hides and over their slim bodies, snapping in the air around them.
“These,” Meghan announced into the shocked—haha, see what I did there—silence that followed, “are volt hinds, and they are the fastest way to get around the Iron Realm. It should only take us a couple hours to reach
the edge of the wyldwood.” Her gaze met mine, a knowing smile crossing her lips. “For those of you who dislike taking the normal carriages.”
“Oh, that’s great,” I said cheerfully. “So, instead of getting eaten by giant spiders, we can now be electrocuted by static goats. I like this so much better. Can they charge your phone while you ride as well?”
The Iron Queen shook her head. “Grimalkin,” she called, ignoring my last question, “are you ready? Do you want to ride with us, or shall we meet you there?”
With a yawn, the gray cat raised his head from where he’d been lying very close to the first carriage. I was quite certain he hadn’t been there two seconds ago. “I was waiting for the rest of the party, Iron Queen,” he stated, rising lazily to his feet. “I do applaud you for deciding to take the volt carriages. We will need their speed if we are ever going to get anything done tonight. Shall we go, then? The night is not getting any longer.”
Meghan nodded, glancing at the rest of us. “We’ll see you in the wyldwood,” she said, and walked toward the first carriage with Ash beside her. The driver, a skinny faery with wires for hair and a whip made of lightning, reached down and opened the door of the floating carriage, and the Iron Queen stepped inside, followed by Grimalkin. Ash didn’t glance at me as he trailed Meghan and the cat into the carriage, ducking through the frame, and the driver shut the door behind him.
It was, I expected, a much tighter fit with Coaleater in the carriage with us. The big Iron faery hunched his shoulders and tried to make himself small in the corner, but he filled nearly the entire seat. Nyx and I sat on the opposite side, trying to avoid his knees, and glancing out the window, I could swear the floating sphere hovered a little lower than before. The driver gave Coaleater a dubious look as he shut the door, and the Iron faery grimaced.
“This is going to be a long ride,” he muttered.
“The Iron Queen said it would take only a couple hours to reach the wyldwood,” Nyx replied, gazing past me out the window. She shifted, and I suddenly was hyperaware of her body next to me, her slim leg brushing my shaggy one.
Coaleater gave a snort. “Not to contradict the Iron Queen, but I am not sure how that is possible,” he rumbled. “Mag Tuiredh lies very deep in the Iron Realm, days from any border. The fastest way to reach the city is by train, and even then—”
There was a sudden crackle of energy around us, the lights outside flickered, and the carriage suddenly lunged into motion. I was flung back and pressed into the wall of the carriage, and Coaleater was nearly yanked out of his seat by the force. Only his enormous mass, weight, and strength kept him from face planting into Nyx’s lap.
After only a few seconds, though, the carriage came to a stop, again so suddenly that I had to brace myself from flying into the opposite seat. I smelled ozone, like the air after a lightning strike, and there was a faint ringing in my ears. Glancing at Nyx, I saw her silver hair standing on end, like she’d jammed a finger in a socket. I couldn’t help but snicker, and she arched a brow at me.
“Don’t laugh too hard, Goodfellow. You look like a lightning gnome just stuck its thumb up your arse.”
Before I could reply, the carriage jolted forward again, and my clever comeback was yanked from my lips and lost in the buzzing of static.
It continued this way for I don’t know how long, short frantic bursts of speed followed by a jarring, sudden stop. Just long enough to draw in a quick breath before the carriage shot into motion again. The few times I thought to look out the window, I had no idea where we were. One time we seemed to be on a street corner, the next we were on an open plain with the moonlight blazing down on us, the next we seemed to be in a forest surrounded by trees.
I felt like I was inside a pinball machine, bouncing wildly from place to place with no time to stop, breathe, or think. Coaleater huddled in the corner with his arms crossed and his jaw clenched, looking straight ahead and waiting for it to be over. Nyx had drawn into her hood and closed her eyes as she leaned back, the picture of calm except for the tight press of her lips and the flexing of her fingers each time the carriage changed direction.
Finally, the ride came to another instant, jarring stop, but this time, it didn’t immediately surge forward. After a few seconds of waiting, bracing myself for another burst of motion, I gradually relaxed, letting my jaw, arms, knees, fingers, and other muscles uncoil. My butt cheeks were clenched so tightly they would feel like rocks for several days.
“Okay,” I breathed as my two companions slowly uncoiled as well, “that settles it. No more complaining about giant spider carriages. I didn’t think there could be anything worse, but apparently I can still be wrong every century or so.”
“That was...interesting,” Nyx mused, trying in vain to smooth down her hair. I reached up to feel my own and found it standing on end like a dandelion puff. Sparks snapped at my fingers as I withdrew my hand. “Where are we now, I wonder?”
“Let’s find out,” Coaleater rumbled, and shoved back the door, letting in a cool breeze that dispersed the charged air of the carriage.
My relief at being out of the carriage was short-lived as I hopped from the doorframe, dropped a few feet, and landed in a pool of standing water up to my knees. My hooves sank into the mud and with a yelp, I leaped for the nearest patch of land, only to find the nice, dry-looking spot of grass I’d aimed for was waterlogged as well. Finding a stump, I perched gingerly atop the wood, shaking out my hooves and surveying our surroundings.
Apparently, we had landed in the middle of a swamp. Pools of black, still water surrounded tiny islands of dry land, dead trees and long cattails poking out of the mud. A few feet away, the carriage floated above the offending water, the two hinds that carried it perched daintily on a rock. The driver, gazing down at me with a half-amused, half-apologetic look, shook his head.
“Forgive me, Master Goodfellow,” he called. “If you had waited a moment, I would have opened the door and also warned you to watch your step.”
“Oh, no worries.” I turned and gave him a wide, toothy grin. “It’s not like I can craft an elaborate prank where every time you venture outside you step in mud for the rest of your life. That’s not something a normal faery could do, right?”
His face blanched, losing the amused look as he stammered a much more heartfelt apology.
I felt a tiny prick of gleeful satisfaction. There was so much I hadn’t done in many, many years; maybe it was time to remind everyone, Iron fey included, why Robin Goodfellow was a faery you did not want to cross.
With a splash, Coaleater dropped from the carriage into the pool of water, not seeming to notice or care about the wet soaking his boots. Nyx was right behind him, only she leaped gracefully from the edge and landed on a mound of dry earth a few feet away. A gust of wind pushed her hood back and caught her silver hair, tossing it around her. My heart twisted, torn between smiling wistfully and hurling a mudball at her.
I looked around and saw the second carriage a few paces away, glowing against the darkness. Unlike our carriage, it had chosen to touch down on a patch of dry land, small but large enough for two people to stand on. Ash was helping Meghan out of the carriage, and Grimalkin sat a couple feet away on a rock, busily washing his tail. For just a second, I thought the cat’s fur looked twice its normal size, poofed out like the feline had just gone through the spin cycle in a dryer. But I blinked, or maybe the moonlight shifted, and the cat was back to normal.
With a crackle of energy, the two carriages sprang into the air, trailing sparks and light, and flashed their way across the swamp. Bouncing from rock to rock, they zipped across the ground like twin balls of lightning. In seconds, they had disappeared.
The three of us sloshed our way toward the rulers of the Iron Realm and their small, dry island in the center of the swamp. “Well, this is a lovely place,” I commented as Coaleater and I splashed up. The fur on my legs was already drenched; I sa
w no point in trying to pick my way across the dry spots. Unlike Nyx, who somehow did just that. “I take it we’re still in the Iron Realm?”
“Yes,” Meghan replied. “This place is called the Glowing Swamp, and it sits close to the spot where we’ll find the oracle, according to Grim. We’ll have to cross into the wyldwood first, but the border isn’t far. We just might have to get our feet a little wet.”
Beside her on an old log, Grimalkin sniffed. “Speak for yourself, Iron Queen,” he muttered, and hopped off the stump onto a nearby rock. “This way to the oracle,” he called back, trotting into the swamp with his plumed tail held high. “Do try to keep up, and do not think to ‘accidentally’ splash water at me if you wish to reach your destination at all, Goodfellow.”
I snickered. “You wound me, Furball,” I scoffed as the five of us headed into the marsh after the cat. “Why would I use water when mud is so much more entertaining?”
The marsh was still as we followed the cat over puddles and small bits of dry ground, but it was hardly silent. Insects buzzed, a constant drone in our ears, and birds trilled somewhere in the reeds. Every so often, there was a nearby splash as some creature vanished into the dark waters, always gone before I could see it clearly.
Nyx glided along beside me, as graceful and silent as a shadow. A few paces ahead, Meghan and ice-boy led the way, and Coaleater sloshed tirelessly through the mud, steam curling from his nose and mouth to drift away on the breeze. I felt a twinge of nostalgia, of familiarity; how many times had I done this—me and my two closest friends, following an annoying cait sith toward an unknown destination? Circumstances would be different, and our allies would change, but somehow, it was always us four—me, Meghan, Ash, and Grimalkin, on a quest to save the Nevernever once again.
And yet, if that was the case, why did this time feel so different? Maybe because I was different now. Maybe because the happy-go-lucky, smile-even-when-it-hurts, has-a-joke-for-everything goofball was gone, and the faery left behind made everyone slightly uncomfortable. Even me.