The Iron Raven

by Julie Kagawa

  “I wouldn’t go that far.” Nyx stepped closer, the faint smile and the look on her face making my heart pound. Her hand reached up, long fingers caressing the wrist that held the dagger...before she grabbed it and spun with preternatural speed, tripping me and tossing me to the forest floor. With a grunt, I hit the ground on my back, the assassin straddling my chest and my own blade at my neck.

  Smirking, I gazed up at the Forgotten, who stared back with a cool, triumphant look on her face. “Are we going to do this dance all night, then?”

  “Is there something else you would like to do all night?”

  “I can think of a few things.”

  One more time, I flipped her, pinning the Forgotten to her back and reclaiming my dagger. The knife once more hovered at her throat as I pressed her down. “Unless you’re ready to admit defeat.”

  She smiled at me, and I realized her hands were not empty, after all. I suddenly caught the glimmer of a moonblade, pointed at a part of me that I really did not want it to be pointed at. Nyx’s grin was wicked as she met my gaze. “Don’t be so smug, Goodfellow. If I have to admit defeat, I’m at least taking a trophy with me.”

  “Okay, okay.” With a grimace, I dropped the dagger, raising both hands in surrender. “I concede. You win, though that was a dirty cheater move, Miss Assassin.”

  “This from the one they call the Great Prankster.” Nyx shifted to get more comfortable, though she did not release the blade in her hand. “Aren’t dirty cheater moves your specialty?”

  “That doesn’t mean they should be done to me,” I protested, making her snort. “One, some things are sacred. And two, I notice you’re not making the sharp stabby thing go away.”

  “Just want to ensure your continued good behavior,” Nyx replied easily. “I know you have another weapon on you, Goodfellow. If I make this disappear, how will I know you won’t immediately try something sneaky?”

  “Because I really want to kiss you now,” I replied softly, suddenly very aware of my pounding heartbeat, my stomach tying itself into knots. “And having a knife in your groin makes it very difficult.” It was useless trying to ignore this, to deny that the Forgotten hadn’t wriggled her way under my skin. I was done trying to fight it. “If you don’t want me to kiss you,” I went on, “just say the word. But if you do, I’m going to be very distracted unless that stabby thing points somewhere else.”

  The Forgotten’s gaze was suddenly hungry, golden eyes shining like a predator’s. But she still hesitated, her voice turning grave. “Didn’t you just say you weren’t certain that I could trust you?”

  “I did,” I husked out. “And you probably shouldn’t. I will fully admit that my head is screwed up and I’m not the person I was. Say the word, and we can go back to camp and have Furball shoot us smug looks all night. But I thought... I was hoping I wasn’t alone in this.”

  Nyx hesitated. I held my breath, counting my heartbeats, feeling my stomach coil and twist like an agitated snake. The faery’s expression was haunted, fighting an inner battle with herself. Then, without warning, she sat up, shoved me in the chest, and toppled me backward. I hit the ground on my back again, my wrists pinned to the forest floor and her lips pressed against mine.

  I groaned, all my nerve endings standing at attention. The Forgotten was not timid; her lips caressed mine a few moments before moving down my neck, making me gasp and arch my head back. I finally freed my hands and slid them up her arms, burying my fingers in her silver hair and pulling her closer. Her palms traced down my chest, slender fingers leaving trails of icy heat, making me shiver where they passed.

  Abruptly, the Forgotten sat up, straddling my waist, her hands resting lightly on my stomach. I gazed up at her, watching her hair spill around her shoulders like a silvery veil, her lithe body perched above me. Her expression was hungry but conflicted, golden eyes shadowed as they met mine.

  “Nyx.” My voice came out as a whisper. “You okay? Having second thoughts?”

  She shook her head, and her voice, when she answered, was barely audible in the stillness. “Just...promise me one thing, Puck. Tell me this doesn’t mean anything to you.”

  Stunned, I stared at her, my mind spinning in confusion. Not what I had been expecting, or really wanted to hear. “Is that what you think of me?” I asked. “That this is just a game?”

  “We are fey, Puck.” Nyx’s voice was unapologetic. “This is what we do, no emotions, no attachments involved. One night of fun, and we can move on. We can forget it ever happened.”

  My stomach clenched. That had been true, once. There had been a time, before I’d met Drysi, when Robin Goodfellow could seduce anything that moved. I knew I was good-looking; by most standards, some might say I’m irresistible. Species, gender, human, fey, it didn’t matter. All I had to do was turn up the charm, put a little smolder in my gaze, and I’d be golden.

  But that was the old Robin Goodfellow, the carefree faery without a conscience. I wasn’t like that now. Which meant I hadn’t turned into him completely, that there was still a bit of Puck left inside.

  Before I could answer, Nyx closed her eyes, and a tiny shiver went through her. “I shouldn’t be here,” she murmured, making my insides tie themselves into a knot. “I swore I wouldn’t let emotions get in the way of my work again.”

  “Again?” I repeated softly, making her wince. “I take it this has happened before?”

  “Once,” she began, and sighed. “A long time ago. But since this seems to be the night of confessions...” She shifted off my chest, settling beside me in the dirt with her legs crossed. Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly. “I was in love with someone, once,” she murmured. “He died.” She hesitated, looking uncertain and ashamed for the first time I had known her. “By my own hand.”

  My mouth went dry. “Nyx. You don’t have to tell me this if you don’t want to.”

  “No.” The Forgotten raised her head, her face grim. “No, before we go any further, this is something you need to hear. His name was Varyn, and he was a member of my Order, a moon elf like me. We did a few missions together, we killed when we were called upon, and we protected the Lady like all members of the Order. He was utterly loyal to her. We both were. We would’ve given our lives for our queen without hesitation.

  “One night,” Nyx went on, “we were returning to court after a successful mission, when were attacked by a...a...” Her brow furrowed. “I don’t remember its name. Which probably means it doesn’t exist anymore. But it was big and fast, and since we were still fighting it when the sun came up, it nearly killed us both. Varyn was badly wounded, and after we finally defeated it, we took shelter in a cave to wait out the sun. And...things happened.

  “That was the beginning,” Nyx went on. “After that, we started spending more time together. He was an amazing warrior, like you.” She paused, the faintest of smiles crossing her face. “Though he had a much better sense of humor.”

  “What?” I exclaimed. “Impossible. Those are fighting words, I’ll have you know.”

  The smile faded. “After a time,” she went on, “it just seemed natural that he was always there, always a part of me. We were each other’s shadows. Where one was, the other wasn’t far, watching from the darkness. We really should have known better.

  “I told you the Lady was a jealous ruler,” Nyx continued, and a very uncomfortable prickle ran down my spine as it began to dawn on me where this was going. “After a while, she didn’t approve of me and Varyn spending so much time together. She disliked having our attention and loyalties split. So, one night, she called Varyn before her and told him that his next target...was me.”

  I bit my cheek, anger, horror, and sympathy a raging storm in my head. “Damn,” I breathed. “I knew I hated her for a reason. Did he...?”

  “Varyn was loyal to his queen to the end.” The Forgotten’s voice was matter-of-fact, though her eyes were faraway
, lost in memory. “He tried to end it quickly, but I wasn’t quite ready to die just yet. We fought for nearly the whole night. I pleaded with him to stop, begged him that we could find another way, but he had his orders, and he couldn’t disobey the Lady.

  “In the end...” Despite herself, Nyx’s voice trembled. She clenched a fist, taking a breath to compose herself. “In the end, one of us had to die. Varyn was skilled but...I had always been the better killer. It was quick at least. He didn’t suffer. But right before he died, he told me he was sorry, that he loved me but he couldn’t betray the queen. And I understood that.”

  Nyx paused, that unruffled mask falling into place again as she glanced up. “I told myself then I wouldn’t make the same mistake,” she said. “Love and emotion...they have no place in the life of an assassin. That’s what I’ve been telling myself ever since I met you. That’s why it would be better if you didn’t feel anything.”

  “Too late.” My insides wouldn’t stop twisting around. Carefully, I sat up, bracing myself with one arm, to be eye level with Nyx. Reaching out, I brushed a strand of hair from her eyes, tucking it behind one pointed ear. She gazed at me, looking unexpectedly vulnerable, and my heart gave that weird little flutter I’d felt only a few years ago. “Dammit,” I sighed. “Last time I said something like this, I got burned pretty bad, but... I can’t say that this means nothing to me. And if I end up with a sword through my middle, well, that’s a chance I’m willing to take. If you are.”

  “This isn’t going to end well.” Nyx eyed me warily but didn’t pull back. “I don’t want to have to kill you, Puck. I don’t want to go through that again.”

  I gently put a hand on her cheek, making her blink at me. “I’m not Varyn,” I murmured. “And the Lady isn’t here anymore. No one, Keirran especially, is going to order you to take a life, I can assure you of that. And if it gets to the point where you feel you have to kill me yourself, then I probably deserved it.” I attempted a wry smile that she didn’t return. “This is mostly your fault, you know,” I went on, stroking her skin with my thumb. “You can’t be completely beautiful and funny and amazing and expect me not to notice. I’ll make you a deal, though.”

  Surprise and caution flickered across her face. You couldn’t say the words deal, price, or bargain around a faery without raising red flags. Or without provoking an instinctive curiosity. “What kind of a deal?”

  I rose, pulling her up with me. “We put this on hold for now,” I said. “Until you decide what you want to do. I don’t like it, but I have been known to have patience if pressed hard enough.” She blinked, gazing at me with those solemn gold eyes, and I stifled the urge to kiss her again. “Nyx, if you’re not comfortable with me, or any of this, then I’ll wait. Robin Goodfellow isn’t a complete barbarian all the time. I want you to decide that it’s worth it, after all.”

  “I want to trust you, Puck,” Nyx said quietly. “But everything is so uncertain. I’m not sure if I can trust myself, much less anyone else. Maybe when this is over, when Keirran and the Forgotten are safe, when we finally kill that monster, maybe then we can travel the Nevernever and see all the things you talked about.” She paused, and then a small smile spread across her face. Looping her arms around my neck, she gave me that intense, appraising look that made my stomach squirm. “So, I guess you have a deal, Robin Goodfellow. Maybe I won’t end up killing you after all.”

  “That is the plan,” I said, sliding my arms around her waist. “Not getting killed by beautiful assassins is something I aspire to every day. Right after not getting eaten by a dragon and not letting Titania turn me into a rosebush.”

  A small chuckle escaped her. “I find it amusing that turning into a rosebush happens more often than assassination attempts on your life.”

  “Believe me, she tries it at least once a year. I end up pulling thorns and rose petals out of my hair for a month afterward.”

  The Forgotten laughed again. Standing on her toes, she leaned up and kissed me, turning my insides into a dancing pretzel party. I closed my eyes, putting my life in her hands, and let the Lady’s assassin do with me what she would.

  16

  THORN SISTERS AND CRANKY TREES

  There were many in the Nevernever who, despite living in the wyldwood their entire life, had never seen the Briars, didn’t even know what they looked like. Which I found absolutely hilarious, because once you saw them, the Briars were impossible to miss. It was hard to see an endless wall of writhing, slithering brambles looming fifty feet in the air with bright red thorns longer than your arm and think, Oh, that’s normal.

  Beside me, Coaleater stared up at the shifting wall of thorns and let out a snort. “So, these are the infamous Briars,” he muttered. “As I understand it, Ironhorse went through them once with you and the Iron Queen, Goodfellow.”

  “Yep,” I answered. “Fun times, that. If you like running into things like dragons, murderous piskie swarms, and hedge wolves. Oh, and spiders the size of Volkswagens, those are always fun.”

  Nyx frowned. “What is a Volkswagen?”

  Her voice sent my stomach into a mess of squirming knots again. My senses were still buzzing from last night’s kiss, and the dark confessions we’d both shared. I still didn’t know if I would actually survive a relationship with the Forgotten Queen’s former assassin, but I did know that I was done trying to fight it. I might have my heart broken, by a literal dagger this time, but what was life without a bit of risk?

  “It’s a car,” Meghan replied, appearing in front of us. “A type of vehicle from the mortal world. And thank you, Puck, for reminding me of that.” Her nose wrinkled with the memory. I grinned. For all her bravery, wisdom, and incredible power, the Iron Queen was still a half mortal named Meghan Chase who disliked spiders almost as much as I did.

  “Anytime, princess. Wouldn’t want you forgetting all the fun times we had in the thorns, would we?”

  She grimaced, mirroring my own thoughts. Truthfully, I was not really looking forward to this. Not because the Briars were one of the most stupidly dangerous places in the Nevernever, but they had an alarming concentration of creepy, skittery things with more than four legs. I had been through the thorns more times than I could count, and I still did not relish the thought of tromping through them once more.

  Ash prowled up behind Meghan and softly touched her shoulder. Briefly, his gaze met mine, solemn with memory, and my stomach twisted. I knew, suddenly, what he was thinking. The last time I had been through the Briars, it had been with Ash on his quest to get a soul. We had traveled all the way through the thorns, and beyond the Briars we had found the End of the World, where the shadowy Guardian had put Ash through a series of impossible tests. Or at least, they were supposed to be impossible. No fey had succeeded in overcoming them. But Ash had survived, passing all the trials the Guardian threw at him, and in the end, became the first faery to ever earn his soul, all so he could be with Meghan in the Iron Realm.

  Ash had gone to the End of the World to be with Meghan. But I had gone to the End of the World for her, too. Because I’d loved her and I wanted her to be happy, even if it wasn’t with me. And the most ironic part? Ash was strong, but he wouldn’t have made it to the End of the World on his own. If I hadn’t been there, the Winter prince probably would have died.

  Turns out, Fate has a pretty twisted sense of humor.

  I smirked at Ash, earning a wary frown from the former Ice Prince. “What about you, ice-boy?” I challenged. “We’ve had some good times in the Briars, haven’t we? Hey, remember that time we stumbled into the spider queen’s nest, and you ended up webbed and wrapped up on the ceiling?”

  “That was both of us, Puck.” Ash’s voice was unamused. “And we only ended up that way because you had to grab that sword stuck in the webbing, which alerted the entire nest.”

  “Fascinating as this is,” came Grimalkin’s bored voice near our feet, “we are not here t
o recount amusing tales of large arachnids. If you would follow me, the castle should not be too far from here. As always, though I do not know why I continue to repeat myself as it never seems to take, I would advise caution and stealth while traveling through the thorns. Generally, giant spiders and all their kind should be avoided, I think we can all agree upon that.”

  “Yep, and if the cat poofs out on us, then we know something dangerous is coming to eat our faces,” I added as Grimalkin turned and padded toward the wall of thorns. “It’s not like we haven’t done this a million times before, Furball.”

  As usual, Grimalkin pretended not to hear.

  The Briars loomed over our heads, waving and rustling menacingly, bloodred thorns looking sharp enough to punch through an Iron knight’s breastplate like it was made of Bubble Wrap. Grimalkin ducked beneath a tendril and vanished like a living cloud of smoke, but as we stepped closer, the branches shivered and began peeling back, revealing a long, narrow tunnel through the thorns and brambles.

  The Briars were expecting us.

  We stepped into the passage, and the entrance slithered shut behind us, plunging the corridor into shadows. Grimalkin’s eyes seemed to float in the tunnel ahead, his furry body barely visible in the gloom. “This way. And do try not to get lost.”

  Coaleater snorted, filling the air with the tang of sulfur as we trailed after the cat. “Ironhorse traveled these very Briars with the Iron Queen even before she took the throne,” he mused, gazing at the bristling walls on either side of us. “I cannot believe I am walking the same path as our progenitor, in the company of the queen and the very heroes of the last war.” He tossed his head, the iron cables of his mane clanking against his neck and shoulders. “Let the giant spiders come. I will protect our queen with my life.”