The Iron Sword (The Fae War Chronicles Book 1)

by Jocelyn Fox

  The trail disappeared, and Molly picked her way over the increasingly stony ground. I slipped and scudded behind, cursing a few times as a stone slid out from under my foot. Somehow, a few bushes had woven their roots into the sides of the rocky valley, clinging to invisible fissures and growing out sideways from the walls like unruly shocks of hair. Leaves and debris covered the valley floor.

  “The spring rains haven’t washed it all away yet,” commented Molly. “All the rattlesnakes should be awake by now though so it’s all right.”

  I picked my way more carefully through the leaves after that, sticking to the visible rocks when I could.

  I was sweating by the time Molly stopped. She handed me the backpack. “Here.”

  I slung the backpack up onto one shoulder. About eight feet up the side of the rock-face, I glimpsed a hole in the looming rock wall. It looked uncomfortably narrow, and I hoped that the entrance was deceiving. Molly fit her hands into two notches in the rock, placed almost high enough to be out of reach. She put her left foot into a knee-high niche and then, after leaning back in preparation, sprung up the rock-face, moving her right foot to a higher hold and grabbing the edge of the cave entrance with her left hand. She pulled herself up and slithered into the cave on her belly. I winced. What Molly made look graceful, I could count on doing at least twice as awkwardly. There would probably be blood.

  “Hand up the backpack,” urged Molly, leaning down and extending a hand. I handed her the pack and then stood eyeing the rock face. After I felt along the rough rock for a moment, I found the handholds, and my questing toe slid into the first foothold. I glanced down to the right, hoping I would find the other foothold.

  As I was taller than Molly, I didn’t need as much lift to reach the lip of the cave, but all the same I almost fell when my right foot scrabbled off the rock face for a moment before finding purchase in the niche. However, somehow I regained my balance and pulled myself through the very small, very uncomfortable opening. After getting my torso through, I wriggled on my belly until I was reasonably certain I wouldn’t fall. Then I looked up.

  The cave was surprisingly large. It opened like a mouth from the small entrance, yawning back into a space that could comfortably sit three or four full-grown men. The bottom of the cave was surprisingly even, visibly worn down in some places. A few crude shelves had been hewn into the walls by the mysterious previous occupants. I decided that I liked to think they were outlaws, too.

  “Roomy,” I commented dryly as I finished wriggling awkwardly into the cave proper. After banging my head on the last ledge of the entrance and swearing, I finally rested on my knees in the center of the cave.

  Molly crossed her legs and sat against the back wall. I checked the bandages on my knees, grimacing when I found that one had been ripped off as I’d climbed into the cave. The scrape was scabbed over, though, so I shrugged and brushed the stone-dust away.

  “So,” I said, “this is the outlaw cave. I don’t really see any iron.”

  Molly smiled. “That’s because Austin and I hid it all back here.” She reached into a small chamber concealed beneath one of the rough shelves. The opening into the compartment was invisible from the front of the cave—if I hadn’t seen Molly reach into it, I wouldn’t have guessed it was there.

  Molly drew out a handful of twisted, rusty metal, spreading it out on the floor of the cave with a flourish. I leaned forward and inspected the heap: a few rusty nails, a small horseshoe that had probably belonged to a pony, from the size of it; and a spoon.

  “I’ll take the horseshoe,” I said, not really knowing why I felt so drawn to the bent piece of metal. Of the whole lot, the horseshoe showed the most visible signs of time: a dusty red crust of rust encased almost every inch of the metal. I ran a finger down its curve.

  “All right then,” said Molly. She took three of the rusty nails and stowed them in the backpack, putting the spoon in her pocket.

  “Do you even think the spoon is iron?” I asked doubtfully.

  She shrugged. “Can’t do any harm. If it’s that old, it’s probably at least partially iron.”

  “So…where to next?” I leaned back on one hand, holding up the horseshoe to eye-level and balancing Molly’s chin on the curve of it.

  “We’ll head back to the house. They won’t come to collect me until sundown. I’m pretty sure that there’s a canister of salt in the cupboard.” Molly handed me the backpack and slid her feet out of the cave. Her head disappeared and I watched her fingers flex on the sill of the cave entrance, then let go. I tossed the backpack down to her, sliding the horseshoe into my waistband as I slithered backward over the rough cave floor. My foot missed the last hold, and I didn’t avoid falling this time, landing hard on the stones. I grumbled at myself as I stood and brushed off a few stray leaves.

  Molly looked off into the distance. She seemed preoccupied, and I didn’t really blame her. Then she turned to me and said, “Why did you stop seeing Eric North?”

  “What?” I stared a little, caught completely by surprise. “How is that relevant to all this?”

  “It isn’t,” Molly said, brushing cave-dust out of her dark hair. “I just thought about it when we were running this morning, and you never really told me why you stopped seeing each other.”

  We started picking our way back along the valley, Molly hopping lightly from stone to stone and me crashing along behind.

  “Do I really have to give a reason?” I asked, shifting my shoulders uncomfortably and eyeing a rock that looked stable. I touched it with my toe and it wobbled. I gritted my teeth—I just wasn’t built for this delicate hopping-about business.

  “Yes,” Molly said. “He was gorgeous and taller than you even when you’re wearing heels—which is a feat, my dear, you have to admit—and he played rugby. I mean, he played rugby.” She looked over her shoulder at me with her cat-like eyes.I sighed. “Yeah, and he also spent every weekend drinking with his friends and didn’t know the difference between a neuron and a neutron.”

  “So?” Molly shrugged. “That’s what guys our age…that’s what they do.”

  “Well,” I said, “it’s not what I want.”

  Molly glanced at me over her shoulder. “Suit yourself. I thought you were pretty in love with him there for a while. You were together for a whole semester.”

  “I was never in love with him,” I said.

  “Well, then he was in love with you.”

  I couldn’t help but chuckle a little. “Yes, Molly, we were together. I was happy with him for a little while. But that doesn’t mean I was in love with him, or he was in love with me.”

  Molly shook her head. “You are never going to find a real man that meets that invisible checklist in your head, Tess.”

  “I don’t have a checklist,” I protested. “I just…haven’t been able to find what I want. And it’s not like you have room to talk.”

  “Maybe I’m not looking for a man,” said Molly. From the tone of her voice, I knew her eyes were hazy with that far-off look she got when she was speaking about the Fae.

  “Oh, you’re looking for a faery?” I asked. “One of the Sidhe?”

  “They’re dangerous,” Molly said, almost automatically. “But…I’m beginning to think that I’m one of them, Tess. Or at least half. Why else would they care about me?”

  “Wisp said you were a half-blood,” I said, the memory of my conversation with the glow suddenly replaying very clearly in my head, like a snippet of a recording: I’ve flown far tonight and must rest before I return—straining my wings just because some little half-blood doesn’t like the idea of heeding an order from the Lady herself!

  Molly paused for a moment, balancing on a rock. “Then I suppose I’ll figure out the whole story when we arrive at Court.” She jumped and landed on her other foot, poised precariously on the edge of the rock
. “So tell me again why you rejected the gorgeous, studly Eric North, who would have gladly been the father of your children. I bet he would have even put up with you having your own career.” She grinned impishly.

  “Since when do I have to settle for studly and gorgeous? I was with him for longer than I should have been, and I have to say that I wasn’t particularly impressed. I wasted more time than I should have.” I kicked a small rock and watched with satisfaction as it bounced away.

  “Oh, right, he couldn’t tell the difference between a neuron and a neutron,” Molly said.

  “I just think there should be more to life than parties and having fun,” I said.

  “Oh, really?” Molly returned dryly. “You went to enough parties, you could have fooled me.”

  “Because I thought that maybe if I tried it, if I acted like I enjoyed it, maybe I would,” I said honestly. “But the whole time I would be thinking about organic chemistry homework, or what route I was going to run the next afternoon. I was never really there.” I shrugged again. “I don’t know, I thought that maybe if I convinced myself that I liked it, I would…just like with Eric.”

  Molly stopped and looked at me suspiciously. “You did like Eric North. You wouldn’t shut up about him for weeks, until I finally told him you liked him.”

  “There’s a difference between lusting after someone and truly liking them,” I said, feeling my face heat with a blush even as the words left my mouth.

  “Oh, my puritanical little Tess,” Molly said. “It took you that long to realize that?”

  “Like I said, I thought that maybe if I pretended hard enough, it would come true.” I had had enough of this vein of conversation, so I looked at Molly and said, “Just like your—aunt—thought that if she pretended hard enough, you would be normal.”

  Molly’s lips thinned. “That’s not exactly a fair comparison.”

  “It’s fair enough,” I said. Then I frowned a little. “Why do you care so much why I broke it off with Eric?”

  I saw Molly’s shoulders stiffen before she shrugged nonchalantly. “I introduced you.”

  “No,” I said slowly. “I’m not…different…like you. Is that why you’ve never dated, because of all this?”

  A hard, brittle laugh escaped Molly’s lips. “What do you think? When do you tell a boy that you’ve talked to faeries for most of your life? Is that second date material or should I wait until the third?”

  “You wouldn’t have to tell him.”

  “Yeah, because keeping huge secrets is great in a relationship. What would he do if all of a sudden I get an order to appear at the Court, or if Trillow or Glira come to visit? I mean, I would have to give it all up…but I can’t. I thought that much was clear.” Molly’s eyes glowed in the sun, that odd glint surfacing again. “I have no control over this, Tess, and I already brought you into it. I’d rather not trap another person too.”

  “You didn’t trap me,” I objected. “It was my own curiosity.”

  “However you want to color it, it’s still the same picture,” Molly said.

  We walked in silence for a few moments.

  “Well,” Molly said finally, “I guess I just hope you won’t be disappointed. You want so much…more.” She shrugged when she couldn’t find better words.

  “I know,” I said. The ache that had been my emotions about Eric North nudged against my ribcage, where it had lain dormant for the past few weeks. It wasn’t hurt, really, because I had been the one who had ended the relationship. It was the ache that I felt when I thought about how I had tried to force myself to fall in love with someone I didn’t even really like. Eric had the body of a Greek god, with blonde hair and gray eyes that made women melt. His looks had captivated me for about a month. Then I had started to realize the small things about him that truly irked me. “Everyone told me I was so lucky,” I said. I knew I didn’t need to tell Molly what I was talking about again. “And I believed them. He was good at telling me the things I wanted to hear, but the more I heard them, the more I realized that it was all…hollow.” I shrugged. We were walking side by side now. “I just feel like…most of the people I meet, that’s how they are. Hollow. Fake, somehow.”

  Molly merely nodded at my assertion. She let the subject drop, my thoughts of failed relationships fading away slowly as we continued walking.

  “So. Salt and iron.” Molly took out the spoon from her pocket.

  “I wonder…do we just have to throw salt at them? Or…how exactly does that work?” I mused aloud.

  “It’s probably like with slugs. You get it on their skin and they absorb it, or if it’s mixed into water or food and they drink it.” Molly shrugged, tucking her hair behind her ear. “That’s what I’d think, anyway.”

  “How is it that you haven’t shriveled up, then?” I asked suddenly. “If you’re half-Fae, why haven’t you just keeled over from spending over twenty years in this world?”

  “I’m guessing that human blood is hardy,” Molly replied. “Other than that, I have no idea. Maybe they put a spell on me or something to protect me.”

  We hiked up the trail to the cabin. I used the sleeve of my t-shirt to wipe the sweat from my face. The late afternoon sun threw our shadows against the rocks as we walked, and I realized with a twinge of unease that it was much later in the day than I had thought. The conversation with Glira had lulled me into that same dream-like trance, even though I’d been far more lucid than when I’d met Wisp. Dream or no, he’d said that I got faery-drunk easily, and I knew now what he had meant. I wondered if Molly knew the lateness of the hour.

  At the top of the hill, next to the crude driveway, the hood of the pick-up truck was still propped open, but Austin was nowhere to be seen. Then, as we neared the porch, I stopped and grabbed Molly’s elbow. “Were you expecting visitors?”

  “We don’t get visitors…” Molly trailed off as she saw what had stopped me in my tracks. “…Out here,” she finished.

  A midnight-blue motorcycle stood by the front porch, coated with a pale rime of dust from the unpaved roads. It would certainly have been a feat, to get a motorcycle up the steep paths. I started toward it, intrigued.

  “Tess,” Molly hissed.

  “What? It’s out here…all by itself,” I replied over my shoulder. “The least we could do is find out a little about this visitor before we go inside.”

  “It could just be one of Austin’s friends from school,” Molly said, but I heard the doubt in her voice.

  Something was strange about the motorcycle. At first, I couldn’t exactly put my finger on it, the idea hovering just out of my range of thought. But then, as I inspected the machine from a few feet away, I realized—it didn’t gleam. And not just because of the dust—because it didn’t have any visible metal parts. I wasn’t a gear-head type, so I didn’t know if there were specialty bikes made out of different materials, but it struck a chord of unease in the pit of my stomach. “No metal,” I said to Molly. I touched the handlebar gently. “Or…if it is metal, it’s coated with something.”

  “Shit,” she said under her breath.

  “When’s sundown?” I asked.

  Molly glanced at the sun, shielding her eyes, and then at her watch. She muttered another curse. “Half an hour.”

  I looked at the house. “I don’t hear wailing or gnashing of teeth,” I commented, “so I suppose he looks fairly normal.”

  “Maybe it’s a she,” Molly said darkly.

  “Well…what are we going to do?” I flicked a fleck of dust off the seat of the bike.

  “Nothing else to do but go in,” Molly said. She glanced at me and then handed me the backpack. “Grab the canister of salt, if you can. It should be in the left cupboard, top shelf.”

  I nodded and slung the backpack over my shoulders. The horseshoe pressed against my skin as I walke
d forward, still tucked into the waistband of my shorts. Somehow its cool weight reassured me. Walking up the steps to the porch after Molly, I watched as she steeled herself before putting a hand on the door-handle. Before she could open the door, though, the knob turned and Austin swung the door wide.

  “Hey, Molls,” he said brightly, though his eyes betrayed his cheerful demeanor. I knew suddenly that Austin, too, suspected something. “You didn’t tell us that one of your friends from school was stopping by.” He stepped aside to let us in.

  Molly brushed past him. I widened my eyes in response to his curious look, hoping he understood that we didn’t know what was going on in this instant any more than he did. I wiped my sneakers cursorily on the doormat before stepping inside.

  The stranger was seated at the kitchen table with his back to us, facing Mr. and Mrs. Jackson. Mr. Jackson looked quite at ease, in his normal blustery way, but apprehension pinched Mrs. Jackson’s face, pulling down the corners of her mouth slightly and shuttering her normally cheery eyes. She glanced up as Molly entered the cabin, and an emotion flitted quickly across her expression, too quickly for me to identify with any confidence. I thought that maybe it was fear. Fear for Molly, or for herself?

  “Hey now, Molls, you were bein’ downright rude when you didn’t tell us that Finn here was gonna drop by today,” Mr. Jackson boomed, rising from the table when he saw Molly and me.

  “Finn,” Molly repeated. Her voice cut sharply across the room.