by Julie Kagawa
I landed on the broken flagstones, covering my head as frozen bits rained down around me, stinging exposed flesh and plinking off the stones. Sharp bits of hail struck my arms and bounced off my head, but it was ice and nothing else. No blood, bones, or frozen creature parts. The Monster had vanished, as if it never was.
As the rain of crystal shards came to an end, I straightened and looked around for the rest of the party. A few paces away, Coaleater tossed his head, then reared onto his hind legs with a bugle of triumph, pawing the air. At the edge of the shattered flagstones, Meghan let out a sigh and leaned backward into Ash, whose arms came up to support her tightly. And the beast stalked through the glittering remains, nodding his horned head and looking pleased.
I turned, looking around for Nyx, then felt the cool edge of a moonblade against my throat from behind. “Sloppy again, Goodfellow,” the Forgotten murmured in my ear. “Even after a victory, you shouldn’t let down your guard.”
I grinned, shaking my head. “Is this how it’s going to be, then?” I asked, as the blade dropped away and Nyx slid around to face me fully. “Knives to my throat after every major occasion? Is that how your Order said happy birthday or congratulations, you just saved the world?”
“Typically not,” Nyx replied. “It’s just more fun with you.” Her eyes went to my forehead, and cool fingers brushed my hair back. “You’re not horny anymore.”
I chuckled, relieved beyond common sense that I was finally back to normal. I could see my regular, nonhorned reflection in her eyes, feel the lack of fur beneath my pants, and grinned at the Forgotten in front of me. “I could go sooo many places with that.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, well, it’s getting rather old, so let me stop you right there.”
And she kissed me.
I closed my eyes, wrapping my arms around her slim waist as her arms circled my neck. For a few seconds, there was only Nyx, her body against mine, and the sweet feeling of triumph, elation, and relief sweeping through us both.
Suddenly, I became aware of the music, of the sweet, haunting notes of a violin mixed with the melody of a lute and the sound of panpipes. Opening my eyes, I saw the three conjured musicians surrounding us, the Ash double out in front, playing, unless I was mistaken, the theme song from Lady and the Tramp.
Which I certainly hadn’t told them to play.
I jerked my head up and saw Ash, standing with his arms around Meghan, smirking at me over her shoulder. I felt my face heat, even as a laugh crawled up my throat and burst free, even as Nyx gazed at us both in confusion. The lingering anger and resentment that had been buried deep inside me was finally gone; for the first time in centuries, I felt truly free.
“Oh touché, ice-boy. Happy to see you finally grew a sense of humor.”
He smiled. Meghan chuckled and leaned against her husband, resting her head against him with a sigh. “Well, this was an ordeal,” she said, letting a hint of weariness creep into her voice along with the relief. “Everyone, you have our gratitude, and the appreciation of the Iron Realm. That you would stay and fight, even when things looked hopeless...” Her blue eyes flicked to me, her smile a thank-you without words. “I’m grateful.”
“It was an honor to fight with you, Your Majesty,” Coaleater said in a solemn voice. “The Iron herd will always stand ready to defend the realm and its queen, from any threat. I am just glad that it’s over.”
“I would not celebrate just yet.”
Everyone turned. Grimalkin sat a few feet away, his back to us, his gaze pointed toward the beast’s huge castle. But his attention wasn’t on the castle itself. The Forgotten we’d left in the tower had come forward, staggering like a drunk across the courtyard, staring at us with its yellow headlamp eyes.
“Not over,” it whispered, taking a few shaky steps forward. “It’s not over yet.” It paused, staring at the place the Monster had vanished, at the smashed stones and broken statues, and gave a violent shudder. “No, this...this was just a fragment, a stray thread of consciousness that escaped from the whole. It sleeps still, barely aware of the world above. But it is starting to awaken. It is starting to become aware, and when it does, the world will crack, and we will all plunge into the abyss.”
It turned huge, maddened eyes on us, raising an arm toward the horizon. “The end has begun,” it whispered. “You cannot stop it. No one can stop it. Evenfall is coming. Faery, and every living creature that exists under the sun, is doomed.”
And before we could do anything, it reached down and drew a dagger out of nowhere, from the shadows that made up its whole form. The blade was obsidian black, seeming to draw in the light rather than reflect it. I jumped as, with a cry, the Forgotten raised its arm and plunged that inky blade into his own chest. He jerked once, twitched twice, and then seemed to fray apart into tendrils of shadow that coiled into the air and faded on the wind.
In the stunned quiet that followed, Meghan took a shaky breath and stepped away from Ash, her expression grave as she faced us all. “All right,” the Iron Queen said, and her voice was steely, preparing for what was to come. “I think it’s time to go home.”
EPILOGUE
The world certainly didn’t feel like it was on the brink of the End of All Things when we left the Briars and returned to the wyldwood. Everything looked and felt normal; from the piskies that dropped pine cones on my head as they zipped by in the trees, to the large redcap motley that tried ambushing us near the border...until they realized we had the Iron Queen in our party and became very sniveling very quickly.
I myself was feeling rather cheerful, back to my old Puckish self. My horns were gone, and my bottom half didn’t look like I’d done terrible things to a goat. We had just defeated the big bad threatening the Nevernever, I had survived, and all of my friends were alive and well. Best scenario I could’ve hoped for.
But most of all, my senses were still buzzing from the kiss of a certain Forgotten. I could feel her beside me, an elegant, funny, dangerous, beautiful shadow, and holy balls I was in deep, wasn’t I? I hadn’t felt this way since...well, since a half-human princess had broken my heart all those years ago.
Would Nyx do the same, I wondered? Was I in even more danger now? Because not only could she crush my tender feelings, she could also very easily slice my throat from behind, and I’d never see it coming. I didn’t know, but at the moment, I was willing to take that chance. After all, my name was Robin Goodfellow. Flirting with danger was something I was very familiar with.
But even though I was feeling rather optimistic about my life in general, a shadow lingered over my thoughts. The Monster was just a fragment of something bigger, the nameless Forgotten had said, a thread of a consciousness just starting to wake up.
How much bigger, I wondered. Were we talking mountain giant, ancient dragon, or Godzilla? Or something even bigger than that? I remembered the grove of the Mother Tree, how Meghan had recoiled when she’d followed the roots down into the earth. Was that our big nasty? A darkness sleeping under the Nevernever, slowly corrupting everything it touched?
I shivered. Well, whatever it was, when it did decide to wake up and claw its way to the surface, bent on chaos and destruction, it would find all of us waiting for it. I gazed around at the people walking back with me: Meghan and Ash, Nyx, Coaleater, and Grimalkin. We wouldn’t stand by and do nothing, even in the face of prophecy. When the time came, futile or not, we would fight with everything we had. And just like today, if we stood together, we might just turn that prophecy on its head and win.
That was my plan, anyway.
At the edge of the Iron Kingdom’s border, a carriage stood, apparently waiting to take the rulers of Iron back to Mag Tuiredh. Turning, the Iron Queen gave us all a weary smile.
“I must return to the city,” she said, with the tired relief of a queen who knew her people were safe, at least for the moment. “We accomplished what we came t
o do, which was to kill the threat to the Nevernever and Faery. But I fear this isn’t the end of it. Something is coming. Both the oracle and the Forgotten mentioned it.”
“Evenfall.”
The word came from Grimalkin, and I felt a chill run from the top of my spine all the way to my nonhairy feet. “The onset of evening,” the cat went on. “The coming of dusk. When everything falls to twilight. I have not heard this prophecy before, which means it is either very new, or older than the Nevernever. I do not like the implications of either.”
“Whatever it means,” Meghan continued, “something is coming. And I want us to be ready for it when it finally appears. That means we need to warn the other courts of what we saw tonight. Puck,” she went on, glancing at me, “I need you to go back to Arcadia. Let Oberon know what is happening. Ash will do the same with Mab. Coaleater, return to the plains and inform Spikerail of what is going on. Let him know that I might need to call on the Iron herd before this is all over.”
“I will, Iron Queen.” The Iron faery straightened and put his fist over his heart. “The Iron herd will stand ready to aid you whenever you need us.”
Meghan nodded, then glanced at the Forgotten beside me. “Nyx...”
Nyx gave a solemn bow. “I will return to the Between and tell Keirran what has happened here, Your Majesty,” she said. Raising her head, she gave the Iron Queen an understanding look. “And whatever else you wish to tell him.”
I stifled a sigh. Yeah, I knew that had to happen, but it was still mildly annoying. Now, instead of relaxing and traveling the Nevernever in the company of a beautiful assassin, I was going to have to deal with this newest problem. Stupid End of the World prophecies, always popping up at the most inconvenient times.
Meghan smiled, but at that moment, movement near the border caught my attention. A trio of figures slipped around the carriage and came striding toward us, the sunlight flashing off their metal armor. I saw flickers of purple lightning and saw that Glitch was in front, his face intense as he walked straight for Meghan.
“Your Majesty!”
Meghan turned as the first lieutenant bowed and the two knights went down on a knee before her and Ash. “Glitch,” Ash acknowledged. “What’s wrong? Why are you here, away from Mag Tuiredh?”
“Your Highnesses.” Glitch rose, his expression grave and his already pale face nearly white. In that moment, a chill went through my stomach. I knew, somehow, that whatever news the first lieutenant had to deliver was not going to be good.
“I’m sorry, my queen,” Glitch said into the sudden tense silence. “But we received a message today...from the Between. Touchstone, the capital of the Forgotten, is no more. Prince Keirran, King of the Forgotten, has vanished.”
* * *
We hope you enjoyed this journey into the
magical and perilous world of Faery!
Look for book 2 of The Iron Fey: Evenfall trilogy,
The Iron Sword.
Only from Julie Kagawa and Inkyard Press!
Keep reading for an excerpt from Shadow of the Fox by Julie Kagawa.
Shadow of the Fox
by Julie Kagawa
1
Beginnings and Endings
It was raining the day Suki came to the Palace of the Sun, and it was raining the night that she died.
“You’re the new maid, are you?” a woman with a narrow, bony face demanded, looking her up and down. Suki shivered, feeling cold rainwater sliding down her back, dripping from her hair to spatter the fine wood floor. The head housekeeper sniffed. “Well, you’re no beauty, that’s for sure. But, no matter—Lady Satomi’s last maid was pretty as a butterfly, with half the wit.” She leaned closer, narrowing her eyes. “Tell me, girl. They said you were running your father’s shop before you came here. Do you have an intelligent head on your shoulders? Or is it as full of air as the last girl’s?”
Suki chewed her lip and looked at the floor. She had been helping to run her father’s shop within the city for the better part of a year. The only child of a celebrated flute maker, she was often responsible for dealing with the customers when her father was at work, too engrossed in his task to eat or talk to anyone until his latest piece was done. Suki could read and do numbers as well as any boy, but being a girl, she was not allowed to inherit her father’s business or learn his craft. Mura Akihito was still strong, but he was getting old, his once nimble fingers stiffening with age and hard use. Rather than marry Suki off, her father had used his meager influence to get her a job in the Imperial Palace, so she would be well taken care of when he passed away. Suki missed home, and she desperately wondered if her father was all right without her, but she knew this was what he wanted. “I don’t know, ma’am,” she whispered.
“Hmph. Well, we’ll see soon enough. But I would think of something better to say to Lady Satomi. Otherwise your stay will be even shorter than your predecessor’s. Now,” she continued, “clean yourself up, then go to the kitchen and fetch Lady Satomi’s tea. The cook will tell you where to take it.”
A few minutes later, Suki walked down the veranda, carrying a full tea tray and trying to remember the directions she’d been given. The emperor’s Palace of the Sun was a miniature city in itself; the main palace, where the emperor and his family lived, loomed over everything, but a labyrinth of walls, structures and fortifications lay between the keep and the inner wall, all designed to protect the emperor and confuse an invading army. Nobles, courtiers and samurai paraded to and fro down the walkways, dressed in robes of brilliant color and design: white silk with delicate sakura petals, or a vivid red with golden chrysanthemum blooms. None of the nobles she passed spared her a second glance. Only the most influential families resided this close to the emperor; the closer you lived to the main keep of the palace, the more important you were.
Suki wandered down the maze of verandas, the knots in her stomach growing tighter as she searched in vain for the right quarters. Everything looked the same. Gray-roofed buildings with bamboo and paper walls, and wooden verandas between them so the nobles wouldn’t sully their clothes in the dirt and dew. Blue-tiled turrets towered over her in regal splendor, and dozens of different songbirds trilled from the branches of the perfectly groomed trees, but the tightness in Suki’s chest and the churning of her insides made it impossible to appreciate any of it.
A high, clear note cut through the air, rising above the rooftops, making her freeze in her tracks. It wasn’t a bird, though a thrush perched in a nearby bush warbled loudly in reply. It was a sound Suki knew instantly, had memorized each and every note. How many times had she heard it, drifting up from her father’s workshop? The sweet, haunting melody of a flute.
Mesmerized, she followed the sound, momentarily forgetting her duties and that her new mistress would almost certainly be very annoyed that her tea was so late. The song drew her forward, a keening, mournful melody, like saying goodbye or watching autumn fade. Suki could tell that whoever was playing the instrument was skilled indeed; so much emotion lay between the notes of the song, it was as if she was hearing someone’s soul.
So hypnotized was she by the sound of the flute, she forgot to look where she was going. Rounding a corner, Suki squeaked in dismay as a young noble in sky blue robes blocked her path, a bamboo flute held to his lips. The teapot rattled and the cups shook perilously as she swerved to avoid him, desperately trying not to spill the contents. The sound of the flute ceased as the noble, much to her amazement, turned and put out a hand to steady the tray before it toppled to the veranda.
“Careful there.” His voice was high and clear. “Don’t want to drop anything—that would be an awful mess. Are you all right?”
Suki stared at him. He was the most handsome man she had ever seen. No, not handsome, she decided. Beautiful. His broad shoulders filled the robe he wore, but his features were graceful and delicate, like a willow tree in the spring. Instead o
f a samurai’s topknot, his hair was long and straight, falling well past his shoulders, and was pure white, the color of mountain snow. Even more amazing, he was smiling at her—not the cold, amused smirk of most nobles and samurai, but a real smile that reached the mirthful crescents of his eyes.
“Please excuse me,” the man said, releasing the tray and taking a quick step back. His expression was calm, not irritated at all. “That was my fault, planting myself in the middle of the walk, not thinking anyone could be rushing around the corner with a tea tray. I hope I did not inconvenience you, miss...?”
Suki opened her mouth twice before anything came out. “Please forgive me, lord.” Her voice was a whisper. Nobles did not speak like this to peasants; even she knew that. “I am Suki, and I am only a maid. Please don’t trouble yourself with the likes of me.”
The noble chuckled. “It is no trouble, Suki-san,” he said. “I often forget where I am when I am playing.” He raised the flute, making her heart leap. “Please do not think any more of it. You may return to your duties.”
He stepped aside for her to pass, but Suki didn’t move, unable to tear her gaze from the instrument in his slender hand. It was made of polished wood, dark and rich and straighter than an arrow, with a distinctive band of gold around one end. She knew she shouldn’t speak to the noble, that he could order her flogged, imprisoned, even executed if he wished it, but words escaped her all the same. “You play magnificently, my lord,” she whispered. “Forgive me. I know it is not my place to say anything, but my father would be proud.”
He cocked his head, a flicker of surprise crossing his beautiful face. “Your father?” he asked, as understanding dawned in his eyes. “You are Mura Akihito’s daughter?”
“Hai.”
He smiled and gave her the barest of nods. “The song is only as beautiful as the instrument,” he told her. “When you see your father again, tell him that I am honored to possess such a masterpiece.”