The Iron Warrior, Page 3

  He gave me a dubious look. I glowered back. Truthfully, I wasn’t feeling the greatest. My legs were shaking, and just standing up was making the room sway, a side effect from being horizontal the past several weeks, I guessed. But I couldn’t lie there like a vegetable while so many things were happening around me. Last night, after Meghan had dropped that bombshell about Keirran, the healer swarm had arrived, preventing me from asking the ten thousand questions swirling through my head. I’d tried waiting until they left to resume talking to my sister, but whatever faery concoction they made me drink must’ve been a sleeping potion of some kind, because the next thing I knew, I was waking up.

  I didn’t need more sleep. I needed to know what was going on, with Keirran, the Forgotten and the entire Nevernever. I needed to contact my parents, let them know I was all right.

  And Kenzie. My insides churned. Where was she now? What had happened to her in the time I’d been gone? Was she still waiting for me? Or had she given me up for dead and moved on, returning to her old, normal life, one without dangerous faeries and deadly magic?

  A chill crept up my spine, and I almost dropped onto the bed again. One month in Faery likely meant several had passed in the real world. How long had it been since I last saw Kenzie, lying in that hospital room? Her illness...

  The cold spread to all parts of my body, and I was suddenly torn between curling into a ball on the bed and punching the walls until my knuckles were bloody. What if...what if she’d never left that hospital? What if I went back home, and Mackenzie St. James was no longer there?

  “Sire.” The healer stepped forward, a note of concern in his voice. “You really should lie down. You’ve gone quite pale.”

  “No,” I rasped, waving him off. I’d done enough sleeping, and I couldn’t get home to see Kenzie now. I had to get out and do something before I drove myself nuts. “I’m fine. I just...need to find my sister.”

  He blinked. “Her Majesty is in the war room with the prince consort and her advisers. But they’re in a private meeting and have ordered that no one disturb them. Are you sure you don’t want to lie down, rest a bit?”

  I left him sputtering protests and walked into the hallway, pausing a moment to get my bearings. I had no idea where the war room was and didn’t think the healer would give me directions. An Iron knight, tall and imposing in full plate armor, shot me a sideways look from where he stood at the end of the hall, but the stern face and large sword made me nervous. A gremlin, bat-eared and razor-toothed, peered down from a chandelier and gave me a sharklike grin, but I was not going to waste time trying to have a sane conversation with a gremlin. Two packrats—short, hunched faeries carrying enormous mounds of junk on their backs—waddled down the hall, chittering in their strange, squeaky language, and I pushed myself off the frame.

  “Hey,” I called. “Wait a second.” They stopped and blinked up at me as I stepped in front of them. “I need to find my sister. Where’s the war room?”

  They cocked their heads, and I wondered if this had been a good idea after all. I knew they could understand me, but I didn’t speak packrat and didn’t have time for a game of charades in the middle of the Iron Palace. “I don’t need a detailed map,” I went on. “Just point me in the right direction.”

  They held a short, squeaky conversation with many head bobs and hand gestures, before turning and beckoning me to follow. Relieved, I trailed the faeries down several long, winding hallways, passing knights, gremlins and countless other Iron fey. They stared at me with varying degrees of curiosity, wariness and awe. As if I was the monster, the thing out of place.

  I supposed I was.

  Finally, they took me through a wide-open doorway into an antechamber I’d seen once before, large and airy, with a massive iron chair at the end of a long carpet. Meghan’s throne room. It was mostly empty now, only a few Iron knights standing in corners and one wire nymph polishing the steps of the dais. The packrats hung back in the doorway but pointed across the chamber to another door on the far wall, guarded by a single Iron knight. I smiled and nodded, letting them know I was grateful without thanking them outright. I didn’t know the particular rules of the Iron Court, but saying the words thank you in Faery was generally a no-no. The packrats smiled back, chittered something I didn’t understand and waddled away.

  I took a deep breath, clearing the faint light-headedness, and walked across the throne room to the door on the other side. The Iron knight watched me approach, narrow face impassive, and didn’t move. I raised my chin and tried to sound authoritative, like I was supposed to be here.

  “I need to see my sister. It’s important.”

  He stared at me long enough to make me wonder if I was going to be escorted back to my room “for my own protection,” before he bowed his head and calmly stepped aside. Trying not to shake with relief, I walked through the door and followed a short hall until it ended at another door, this one unguarded. Carefully, I tested the handle, expecting it to be locked, but it turned easily in my palm, and familiar voices drifted through the crack as I eased the door open.

  “And you are certain it was him?” said a low voice that I recognized instantly, making my hackles rise. Of course, he would be here. I caught myself, trying to banish the feelings of anger and resentment toward that particular faery. They were just habit now, part of the lingering grief from when I’d thought he had stolen my sister from me. It wasn’t Ash’s fault that Meghan never came home. She loved him, and she had chosen to stay in the Nevernever, to become the Iron Queen. I was tired of being angry, tired of the bitterness that ate at me from the inside. I didn’t like the thought that I had died hating part of my family.

  “Yes, sire.” This second voice shook a bit, as if its owner would rather be anywhere else. “I saw him myself. He was with a small contingent of Forgotten, in the wyldwood. Right outside Arcadia’s borders.”

  “Scouting the area.”

  “I believe so, sire. Though, when we tried following them, they disappeared. It’s as if they vanished into thin air.”

  “So, it’s true.” This from Meghan, her voice grief-stricken, resigned, furious and terrifying all at once. “The Forgotten intend to attack the courts. I’ll have to tell Oberon that the Forgotten are practically on their doorstep, and that Keirran...” She trailed off, took a deep breath. “Glitch, send patrols to all our borders. Tell them to be on the lookout for Keirran and to report any sightings immediately. If they do see Keirran, do not attempt to talk to him. Until we know his intentions and why he remains with the Forgotten, we have to treat Keirran as a potential threat. Is that understood?”

  There was a general murmur of consent, though Glitch’s voice, angry and frustrated, chimed in a moment later. “Why is he doing this?” the first lieutenant almost snarled. “This is his home. Why is he throwing everything away to side with the enemy?”

  “Because he thinks he’s saving them,” I answered, stepping into the room.

  Instantly, a table of about ten faeries straightened and turned toward me. Meghan was standing at the head with a tall faery in black close beside her. His silver eyes met mine across the room, cool and assessing, and I gave a small nod.

  “Ethan,” Meghan said, a note of weary disapproval in her voice. “You are not supposed to be up right now.”

  “Yeah, so everyone keeps telling me.” I walked to the table, clenching my jaw to keep the pain from my face, to appear perfectly normal. The fey watched me curiously, but it was Meghan’s gaze I sought, meeting her blue eyes as I reached the table and put a hand against the surface to steady myself.

  “I know Keirran,” I said, speaking to Meghan but addressing them all. “I was with him when he went to the Lady. The Forgotten Queen. He...he really wanted to save them, the exiles and the Forgotten, from ceasing to exist.” My gaze went to Ash, standing quietly beside the queen, and for a moment, I wondered if I should reveal
the other reason Keirran had wanted to help. That, long ago, Ash had gone through the place where all the Forgotten went to die, and unknowingly woken up the Lady.

  I decided against it. The damage was already done, and accusing Ash of this whole mess wouldn’t help anything. Besides, it didn’t excuse Keirran’s actions. I was done helping him; even this, explaining why the prince was with the Forgotten, was to help my sister understand her son’s douchy behavior. Keirran was family, but he was not my friend. I’d tried to help, I had stuck my neck out for him, and he had literally stabbed me in the back. I could excuse a lot, but not that. If I ever saw my nephew again, I was going to kick his ass.

  “Save them?” Glitch shook his head, making the lightning in his hair flicker. “By waging war on the other courts? By threatening his own kingdom, his own family? Why? How will that accomplish anything?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Meghan’s voice was steely and resigned at the same time. “What matters is that Keirran and an army of Forgotten are moving on the Nevernever. We must take this news to Tir Na Nog, to the war council of Summer and Winter. If the Forgotten do intend to attack, we must be prepared.” Her gaze went around the table and fastened on Glitch. “Make ready the army,” she ordered, and Glitch snapped to attention. “We depart for the Winter Court first thing tomorrow. Dismissed.”

  The crowd of fey bowed and departed the room, leaving me alone with the rulers of Mag Tuiredh.

  When the door closed, Meghan put both hands on the table and bowed her head with a shaky sigh. “So, it really is happening,” she murmured. “The prophecy has come to pass. I really am going to wage war against my son.”

  I didn’t know what to say, if I should even say anything, but Ash moved close, putting a hand on her shoulder. “We don’t know that yet,” he said gently. Meghan’s hand came up to clutch his, as if he was a lifeline keeping her from drowning. “We don’t know how far gone he is,” Ash continued, “or what he might have promised. Perhaps there is still time to talk to him.”

  “He killed Ethan, Ash!” Meghan spun on him, as if she’d forgotten I was standing right there. “In cold blood. He stabbed him, sacrificed him, to make way for these Forgotten. I never thought...” She covered her face with one hand. “Even after the prophecy, and the Oracle’s warning, I never thought he would do it. What’s happened to him, Ash? We did everything we could to prevent this, and now...”

  Ash held Meghan’s shoulders and peered down at her with intense silver eyes. “Nothing is certain yet,” he told her. “Ethan is alive, and neither Keirran nor the Forgotten have attacked. We can fix this, Meghan, I swear it. There is still time.”

  “Um...” I ventured, reminding them that I was still in the room. They turned, giving me somber looks, and I swallowed hard. “I might have an idea,” I said, wondering if they thought of me as an intruder, a human pest who had no stake in this war. I thought Meghan might order me back to my room to “rest,” but she only nodded for me to go on.

  “Keirran is trying to save the Forgotten and the exiles,” I continued. “Tearing away the Veil was supposed to stop them from Fading into nothingness. For some reason, he thinks he’s responsible for the Forgotten. And...he’s trying to save Annwyl, too.” Annwyl, his exiled love from the Summer Court, had been Fading away, as well. In fact, this whole stupid mess started because Keirran was trying to find a cure for her. “We even went to Arcadia to ask Titania to lift her exile,” I went on, and noted Meghan’s and Ash’s grave looks as they probably guessed how that little endeavor had gone. “When she refused, Keirran flipped out and attacked her. He was pretty desperate at that point, I think. But, maybe if the courts can come to some kind of accord with the Forgotten and let Annwyl come home, Keirran will back down.”

  I wondered what the hell I was doing, defending Keirran like this. If he was with the Forgotten and marching to wage war on the courts, let him deal with the mess he had caused. Let him see the consequences of his actions.

  It’s not for Keirran, I thought fiercely. I’m not defending him; I’m trying to help my sister prevent a faery war from breaking out. Keirran, the Forgotten and the Lady can go to hell, but if Meghan has to fight her own son, it will destroy her.

  Meghan nodded and seemed to regain some of her composure. “The council tomorrow is to decide if Keirran and the Forgotten are truly a threat,” she said, sounding thoughtful. “If we can keep Summer and Winter from declaring war, perhaps that will allow us enough time to find Keirran. We still don’t know what the Lady really wants. If all she wishes is for her people to survive, then maybe we can work something out. Something that will allow the Forgotten to exist within Faery and not Fade away.”

  Relief washed through me, but I couldn’t relax yet. “There is...one more thing,” I continued. “Keirran was looking for a cure to stop Annwyl from Fading. Right before we went to see Titania, he convinced Guro—my kali instructor—to make an amulet for her. The amulet connected him and Annwyl and...uh...drained Keirran’s magic and life force and gave it to her. It allowed Annwyl to live but...it was probably going to kill Keirran.”

  For a few heartbeats, there was silence.

  “But...Keirran is still alive,” Ash said, as Meghan’s face went as pale as a sheet. “We’ve seen him with the Forgotten. Could Annwyl have taken the amulet off, destroyed it?”

  “I don’t know.” I leaned against the table to steady myself. “But that amulet was the only thing keeping Annwyl from Fading. I don’t think Keirran would do anything to jeopardize that.” Unless he’s changed so much that I don’t recognize him anymore.

  Meghan straightened, becoming the Iron Queen once more. “This will need to be addressed at the war council,” she said.

  “I’m coming, too,” I said, and Meghan gave me a sharp look. “I was with Keirran when all this started,” I continued, holding my ground. “I know what happened, and I think the other courts will want to hear it. I want to help, Meghan,” I added as she hesitated. “I can’t hide from this any longer. This has become my fight, as well.”

  Meghan sighed. “I’ll have someone send a message to Mom and Luke,” she muttered, rubbing her eyes. “Let them know you’re all right, at least. You just have to promise me one thing, Ethan. If the worst happens, and war does break out between the courts and the Forgotten, you cannot get involved. I don’t want you on the front lines—I don’t want you anywhere near the battle or the fighting. If it comes to that, I want you to go home. Please, I need to know you’ll be safe, that one part of my family is far away from this mess. Will you promise me that?”

  I swallowed hard and nodded. “Yeah,” I rasped, “I promise.”

  * * *

  Gazing out the carriage window, I shivered, both from the chill coming through the glass, and the pristine white palace looming at the end of the walk. I knew Mab, Queen of Winter and one of the scariest fey in existence, held court in a massive underground city filled with Unseelie nightmares. I knew it was going to be cold and had borrowed some warmer attire from Meghan’s court in preparation: long wool coat, gloves and hat. But there was cold, and then there was cold. As in, hurts-to-breathe cold. As in there were colored ice crystals, bristling from the ground and dangling from rooftops, that were taller than me. As in unnatural, Winter Court cold. The door opened with a swirl of frigid, stinging air, making me grit my teeth as I slid out of the carriage. Grimacing, I stepped onto the ice-covered path, turning up my coat collar and wishing I had a scarf to wrap around my face. Jeez, it was freezing! What I wouldn’t give for a couple flamefruits right now.

  Whoa, wait a second, Ethan. Crossing my arms, I followed Glitch up the path through the pristine, snow-covered courtyard toward the palace steps. When did you start wishing for magical solutions? You hate faery glamour, remember?

  Oh, shut up, I told myself, annoyed. Obviously I wasn’t going to make any dangerous bargains or drink a bottle of faery wine, and I wa
s going to be extremely paranoid of any strange glamour cast my way, but the entire Nevernever was one giant, magical place. I couldn’t avoid magic if I wanted to. I would admit, very reluctantly, that some faery magic could be useful.

  Like keeping me from freezing to death in the freaking Winter Court.

  Meghan and Ash were waiting at the top of the steps when Glitch and I came up. Meghan wore a dark blue cloak, but below that, a coat of glimmering silver scales rustled metallically as she turned to us. A sword hung at her waist, and her hair had been pinned up, making her look older, regal, almost intimidating. Beside her, Ash was dressed in jet-black armor with the silhouette of a great tree on the breastplate. Seeing them like that caused a lump of dread to settle in my gut. This wasn’t a faery ball or a fancy party. This was a meeting to determine if the courts of Summer, Winter and Iron would go to war with the Forgotten, the Lady...and my former best friend.

  We strode through the halls of the Winter Palace, and I stayed very close to Glitch and the retinue of Iron knights accompanying us. I wasn’t afraid...well, no, screw that, I was afraid. The twin swords at my waist were a necessity; no way I was walking through Tir Na Nog unarmed. But I was mostly nervous for Meghan. Iron Queen or not, Keirran was her son; I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have to declare war against your own family. I hoped the faery courts could find a peaceful solution to the Forgotten and the Lady. I would do my damnedest to help make that happen.

  Redcaps, ogres, goblins and other Winter fey stared at us, eyes and fangs gleaming, as we made our way through the frozen halls. At the end of a long corridor lit with blue ice chandeliers, a pair of Winter knights pulled back huge double doors and bowed to Meghan as we swept through.

  Oh, crap.

  An enormous round table made entirely of ice stood in the center of the room, throwing off tendrils of mist that writhed along the floor. Surrounding it were scores of fey, both Seelie and Unseelie, most of them dressed in battle gear. My skin prickled. For a council that was supposedly about “discussing” the Forgotten menace, everyone here seemed more than ready to fight.