by Julie Kagawa
“If I can.”
I thought about it, content to feel his arms around me. “I guess…as long as the false king dies, it doesn’t matter who kills him, right?” Ash shrugged, but I felt uncomfortable with that decision. This was my quest. I had agreed to kill the false king. The responsibility was mine, and I didn’t want anyone to have to kill for me again, especially Ash.
Although, I still didn’t know how I was going to accomplish any of this when we got there. We didn’t have a magic Witchwood arrow this time. We just had…me. “Let’s not worry about it now,” I said, not wanting to think about it anymore. “We have to reach him first, anyway.”
“Which we’ll never do if you two keep groping each other every two seconds,” Puck announced, entering the room with a swooshing of tent flaps. Blushing, I stepped away from Ash and pretended to check my pack. Puck snorted. “If you two are quite ready,” he said, pushing back the cloth, “we’re all waiting on you.”
We left the tent, stepping into the cold, still night. My breath clouded the air, and sooty flakes landed on my face and hands. On each side, lining the way to the forest, the armies of Summer and Winter watched us leave, hundreds of fey eyes glowing in the darkness. Somewhere in the camp, a wyvern screeched, but other than that, everything was silent.
Mab and Oberon stood at the edge of the crowd, both as still as the trees themselves. Beyond the rulers, the glimmering forest of steel stretched away into darkness.
“We have given you everything we can,” Oberon said as we approached, his solemn voice echoing over the crowds. “From here on, we can only wish you luck, and wait. Everything is up to you now.”
Mab raised a hand, and a goblin stepped out of the crowd to stand before us, dressed in that leafy camouflage that made him look like a bush. “Snigg will take you to the edge of the forest where it becomes the Wasteland proper,” she rasped, her gaze lingering on Ash. “Beyond that, you’re on your own. None of our scouts have ever returned from venturing deeper.”
Oberon was still watching me, his green eyes unreadable in the shadows of his face. It seemed to me that the Erlking looked tired and haggard, but that could simply be a trick of the light. “Be careful, daughter,” he said in a voice meant only for me.
I sighed. That was as much fatherly affection Oberon was going to dole out. “I will,” I told him, shifting my pack to my other shoulder. “And we won’t fail, I—” I barely stopped myself from saying “I swear,” not knowing whether I could keep that promise. “I won’t give up,” I finished instead.
He gave me a brief nod. Ash bowed to his queen, and Puck grinned at Oberon, defiant to the end. I looked down at the goblin.
“Let’s go, Snigg.”
The goblin bobbed and shuffled away into the trees, becoming nearly invisible in the brush. With Ash and Puck at my side, I stepped into the forest, following the bobbing mound of vegetation through the trees, and the camp soon faded behind us.
“I RECOGNIZE THIS,” Ash muttered after several minutes of walking. Following the goblin scout, we ducked and wove around trees whose trunks looked like they’d been covered in mercury, shiny and metallic in the dappled light. “I think I know where we are.”
“Really.” Puck sounded sarcastic. “I was wondering when you’d figure it out, prince. Granted, none of the masses knew how close they were, either, so props for knowing your history.” He snorted. “You can bet both Oberon and Mab knew it, and deliberately didn’t let on. Typical.”
“Why?” I glanced around, seeing nothing unusual—beyond the strangeness of a completely metal forest, anyway. “Where are we?”
“This is Fomorian territory,” Ash said, narrowing his eyes. “We’re heading right for Mag Tuiredh.”
I blinked at Ash. “What’s Mag Tuiredh? What are Fomorians?”
“An ancient race of giants, princess,” Puck answered, ducking a low-hanging branch. “Semiaquatic, clannish and the ugliest bastards you’d ever have the misfortune of seeing. Deformed and twisted, the lot of them. I’m talking one-armed, one-eyed terrors with hooves growing out of their heads, limbs in places they’re not supposed to be. One of their queens even had a set of teeth on each of her—”
“Okay, I think I got it.” I shuddered, skirting a bush with metal thorns growing out of it like needles. “So, are these giant things hostile? Do you think they’ve been killed by the iron?”
“Oh, they were definitely hostile,” Puck continued cheerfully. “In fact, they were so hostile, we had a war with them, long, long ago. I think it was the only other time Summer and Winter cooperated, right prince? Oh, wait, you weren’t even around yet, were you?”
“They’re extinct, Meghan,” Ash said, ignoring Puck. “They’ve been extinct for centuries. Summer and Winter completely wiped them out. Mag Tuiredh was their city. It’s nothing but ruins now, and generally everyone avoids it. It’s an evil place, full of curses and unknown monsters. One of the darker places of the Nevernever.”
“And the perfect place for the new Iron King,” I mused.
We fell silent then, for the trees abruptly fell away and the Iron Kingdom stretched out before us.
I remembered the heart of Machina’s realm, the flat, cracked plateau, spiderwebbed with lava, and the endless railroad that led to the black tower. This was different, a blasted, rocky desert with huge, jagged outcroppings and uneven hills. Looking closer, I saw that some of the hills were huge piles of junk: tires, pipes, smashed cars, rusty barrels, satellite dishes, broken computers and laptops, even the wing of an airplane. Street lamps grew out of the rocky ground or atop distant outcroppings, glimmering faintly in the haze. The corroded red moon, balanced atop two pointed ridges, seemed closer than ever.
“Interesting,” Puck remarked, crossing his arms to his chest. “You know, I used to say Fomorian territory couldn’t get any worse than it was. Nice to know I can still be proven wrong once in a while.”
Ash stepped forward, gazing around the wasteland in silence. His back was to me, so I couldn’t see his face, but he was probably remembering our last trip into the Iron Kingdom. I wondered if he was already regretting his promise.
Snigg the goblin gave a feeble cough, muttered an apology, and scurried back into the forest the way we’d come, leaving us to our fate. Suddenly alarmed, I looked harder at Ash and Puck, cursing myself for not realizing sooner. We were deep in the Iron Realm now; Ash and Puck would be feeling the effects of the land, the poison that would kill them if those amulets didn’t work.
“Are you two all right? Ash? Look at me.” I grabbed the prince’s arm and turned him toward me, peering into his face. His skin seemed paler than usual, and my stomach twisted. “The amulets aren’t working, are they? I knew it. We should go back.”
“No.” Ash put his hand over mine. “It’s fine, Meghan. They’re working well enough. I can still feel the iron, but it’s bearable. Not like before.”
“Are you sure?” When he nodded, I looked from him to Puck. “What about you?”
Puck shrugged. “It’s no Shiatsu massage, princess, but I’ll live.”
I glared at them. “I know faeries can’t lie, but you two better not be saying that just so I won’t worry.” Neither of them said anything, and my anger rose. “I mean it, you two.”
“Relax, princess.” Puck shrugged defensively. “They’re working, okay? I know I’m not supposed to feel great, but I don’t feel like my insides are about to crawl up my throat, either. I’ll live. I’ve been through worse.”
“And it doesn’t matter.” Ash faced me with an air of stubborn calm. “We’d still be here, regardless. We can’t go back now. Besides, we’re wasting time.”
“I agree,” came another voice, deeper in the Iron Realm. “The protective qualities of your amulets are limited, after all. The longer you stand around doing nothing, the shorter your time becomes.”
Somehow, I wasn’t surprised. “Grimalkin,” I sighed, turning around. “Stop hiding. Where are you?”
The cat glanced up from a nearby ro
ck, where nothing had been a second ago. “You,” he purred, regarding us lazily, “are late. Again.”
“Why are you here, Grim?”
“Is it not obvious?” Grimalkin yawned and looked at each of us in turn. “The same reason I am always here, human. To keep you from falling down a dark hole or wandering into a giant spider’s nest.”
“You can’t stay here,” I told him. “The iron will kill you and you don’t have an amulet.”
Grimalkin sniffed. “Really, human, you are incredibly dim at times. Who do you think told Mab about the amulets in the first place?” He raised his chin, just far enough for me to catch a glint of crystal beneath his wavy fur.
“You have one? How?”
The cat sat down and licked his forepaw. “Do you really wish to know, human?” he asked, giving me a sideways glance. “Be careful of your answer. Some things are better off a mystery.”
“What kind of answer is that? Of course I want to know, especially now!”
He sighed, vibrating his whiskers. “Very well. But, keep in mind, you insisted.” Putting his paw down, he sat up and curled his tail around himself, regarding me with a grave expression. “Do you remember the day Ironhorse died?”
A lump caught in my throat. Of course I did. I could never forget that night. Ironhorse charging the enemy alone so we could have a distraction; Ironhorse shielding me from a fatal blow; Ironhorse, shattered and broken on the cement floor of the warehouse. His last words. I teared up, thinking about it.
And then, I remembered Grimalkin, sitting beside the noble Iron faery just before he died, leaning close to his head. I’d thought my eyes were playing tricks on me, for I’d caught only a split-second glance before the cat was gone, but now it seemed extremely important that I remember.
My stomach felt cold. “What did you do to him, Grim?”
“Nothing.” Grimalkin faced me with an unblinking stare. “Nothing that he had not already agreed to. I knew I would have to go into the Iron Realm sooner or later, and Ironhorse knew he could very well die on his quest to help you. He was prepared for it. We came to…an understanding.”
“Oh my God.” The realization hit me like a hammer, and I gaped at the cat. “That’s him in there, isn’t it? You used Ironhorse for your amulet.” I felt sick and staggered away from the cait sith, bumping into Ash. “How could you?” I whispered, actually beginning to shake. “Is everything a contract to you? Ironhorse was our friend, I would have died without his help. Or don’t you care that you’re using him like a battery?”
“Ironhorse was prepared to give up everything for you, human.” Grimalkin narrowed his eyes to golden slits, staring me down. “He wanted this. He wanted a way to protect you if he were no longer here. You should be grateful. I would not have done the same. Because of his sacrifice, the quest can continue.” The cat rose and leaped from the rock, turning to stare at us over his shoulder.
“Well?” he asked, waving his tail. “Are you coming or not?”
I scowled and took a few steps forward. “Where do you think you’re taking us?”
He twitched an ear. “Ironhorse told me, should I ever find myself in the Iron Realm with you, to look for an old friend of his. The Clockmaker, I believe was his name. And he is fairly close. Lucky for us.”
“Why go to the Clockmaker? Why not just look for the false king?”
“Ironhorse implied that this was important, human.” Grimalkin blinked and sat down, thumping his tail impatiently. “But, if you do not think so, by all means go wandering about until the amulets lose their power and you are completely lost. Or, was that your plan all along?”
I glanced at the boys. They both shrugged. “Seems as good a plan as any,” Puck said, rolling his eyes. “If the cat knows where he’s going, that is. I’d hate to get lost in here.”
Grimalkin sniffed, curling his whiskers in disdain. “Please, do not insult me. Lost? Since when have I ever led you wrong?”
I sighed. “Here we go again.”
AFTER A NIGHT OF WALKING, I realized just how big the Fomorian city was.
I’d imagined Mag Tuiredh as a city of sprawling ruins: crumbled stone walls, half-erect buildings, and just a scattering of large rocks where a castle once stood. And perhaps, if it had been in the real world, that’s all it would have been. But in the Nevernever, where age and time didn’t exist and even the structures resisted the concept of decay, Mag Tuiredh loomed tall and threatening in the hazy distance, black towers belching smoke into the mottled yellow sky.
“How old is this city?” I asked, shielding my eyes to peer across the barren landscape. Even through the mottled yellow-gray clouds, the light still glinted off a thousand metallic things, flashing in the sun and blinding me. Puck and Grimalkin had seen some movement in the rocks, and were scouting around to find the source of it.
“No one really knows,” Ash replied, his gaze sweeping over the landscape. “The Fomorians were here before us, and their city was already massive. Back then, Mag Tuiredh sat half in and half out of the mortal realm, in a place known today as Ireland. Because humans still worshipped us as gods and the Nevernever was still very young, many faery races preferred to live in the mortal realm. The Fomorians had already enslaved several lesser races, and tried to do the same to us. Naturally, we didn’t take very kindly to that.”
“So there was a war.”
“One that rocked the foundations of both realms. In the end, Mag Tuiredh was pulled completely into the Nevernever, and the Fomorians were driven into the sea. That was the last anyone saw of them. At least, that’s the story I’ve heard.”
“But if they’re gone…” I looked back to the city and the dark smoke boiling into the sky “…why are those things still smoking?”
“I don’t know.” Ash shifted his gaze to the distant towers. “Mag Tuiredh supposedly sat empty for thousands of years, but who knows what it’s been turned into now. Judging from that smoke, I would say Mag Tuiredh is no longer uninhabited.”
“Bad news.” Puck suddenly dropped from an overhead slab, landing beside us with a poof of dust. “We’re being followed. Grim and I saw something that looked like a giant metal insect, buzzing along behind us. I tried to catch the little bastard, but it saw me coming and booked it.”
“You think there are more of them?” Ash tensed and dropped his hand to his sword, probably remembering the gremlin hoard swarming him in the mines on our first trip here. Puck’s eyes darkened, and he shook his head.
“Dunno. But I think someone knows we’re here.”
Grim popped into view on a rock, twitching his tail. His wispy gray fur stood on end like he’d just come out of a dryer with horrible static cling. “There is a storm coming. We should seek cover.”
No sooner were the words out of his mouth than a flash of lightning lit the sky and the air filled with the tang of ozone.
The hairs on my neck stood up. “Grim,” I gasped, whirling on the feline, “get us out of here! We have to find shelter now!”
Whether it was my terrified look or the panic in my voice, the cat didn’t dawdle this time. We fled, scrambling over dirt and rock, while above us the sky turned from yellow-gray to black in a matter of seconds. Sharp-smelling wind whipped at our clothes and made my eyes water, and the air around us felt charged with electricity. A thread of green lightning slashed the sky, and the first drops began to fall.
A searing pain stabbed me in the thigh, and I clenched my teeth to keep from screaming, knowing one of the acidic drops had just hit me. Somewhere behind us, Puck yelped in shock and surprise. My stomach churned, and I could no longer see the cat in the darkness and rising wind.
“Grimalkin!” I yelled in desperation.
“This way!” The cat’s yowl cut through the growing storm, and two glowing eyes suddenly appeared at the mouth of a cave in the side of a cliff. The cave was so well hidden, blending perfectly into the landscape, that had Grimalkin not been there I never would’ve seen it.
Another drop hit m
y forehead, sliding down my cheek, and this time I did scream as a line of fire slashed down my skin. I could hear the hiss of the rain striking all around us, and I threw myself into the cave, followed by Ash and Puck, just as the sky opened with a roar and the rain poured down.
Gasping, I lay on my back on the sandy floor, watching the storm sweep the land, while Ash and Puck leaned against the cave wall, panting.
“Well, that was…different,” Puck gasped. “What the hell is that anyway?”
“Acid rain,” I said, not having the will to push myself off the floor just yet. My face throbbed, and the sand was cool against my cheek. “We ran into it on our first trip here, too. Not fun.”
“Welcome to the wonders of the Iron Kingdom,” Ash muttered, and pushed himself off the wall, coming to kneel beside me. I took his hand and let him pull me into a sitting position.
“Are you all right?” he asked, brushing the hair from my face, lifting it away from the burn. His fingers hovered over the wound, and I flinched despite myself, causing him to sigh. I saw Puck watching us over Ash’s shoulder, and blushed self-consciously, suddenly desperate to break the tension.
“So, tell me the truth,” I said, only half joking. “Will it scar? Will I have to wear a mask like the Phantom of the Opera, to hide my hideous face?”
Ash shrugged off his pack, and a moment later a cool, familiar-smelling salve touched my cheek, soothing the fiery pain. “I think you’ll be fine,” he said, smiling faintly. “No battle scars for you, at least not today.” His hand lingered on my face a moment more before he rose, drawing me to my feet. Puck snorted and walked away, pretending to examine the cave.
Grimalkin strutted by, tail in the air, oblivious to the rising tension. “The rain will not let up anytime soon,” he said as he passed, “so I suggest you get some rest while you can. I also suggest one of you take watch. We do not want to be surprised if the owner of this cave returns while we are asleep.”
“Good idea,” Puck echoed from the back of the cave. “Why don’t you take first watch, prince? You could actually be doing something that doesn’t make me want to gouge my eyes out with a spork.”
