The Iron Warrior

by Julie Kagawa

  Something warm snaked around my ankle and yanked me off my feet. I hit the ground on my back, driving the wind from my lungs, and felt myself being dragged back into the river. I managed to suck in a breath before my head went under and I was pulled down into the murky darkness.

  Trying not to panic, I whacked at the thing around my leg, grazing it, but another tentacle reached up and looped around my chest, pinning my arms. I managed to keep hold of my swords, but couldn’t do much else as I was dragged farther into the depths.

  Something rose from the bottom of the river, coming toward me. In the darkness and murk, I could just make out an enormous black blob, two pale fishy eyes fixed on me. A mouth gaped open, filled with lamprey-like teeth, and my heart seized up as the tentacles drew me toward it. I kicked wildly, thrashing in the thing’s grasp, but with my arms pinned I could only watch as the teeth loomed closer.

  There was a flash of silver beside me, a slender blade stabbing from the darkness, piercing the band around my chest. The tentacle spasmed and recoiled, loosening enough for me to free my arms. With the gaping mouth only a foot away, I stabbed up with everything I had and sank the steel blade between two curved fangs.

  A muffled roar went through the water, vibrating against my skin, and I was free. Kicking out, I swam for my life, breaking the surface with a gasp and immediately heading for shore. Kenzie and Razor were at the water’s edge again, eyes wide as I staggered out of the river. My lungs burned, and the ground didn’t feel as solid as it should, swaying under my feet as I stumbled onto dry land.

  “Ethan!” Kenzie rushed toward me, taking my arm as I nearly fell to my knees in the mud, feeling my heart hammer in my ears. Close behind me, the Thin Man emerged from the river, shaking water from his blade and giving me an exasperated look as he grabbed my sleeve in long fingers. Together, we scrambled up the bank, Kenzie and the Thin Man half dragging me, until we were about a hundred feet from the water’s edge. Only then did I collapse, panting, never so happy to feel solid earth under my palms.

  Razor let out a screech and scrambled to Kenzie’s shoulder, frantically pointing back to the river. I looked up, and my blood chilled as a long black tentacle rose into the air, followed by another, and another, as the huge, amorphous blob pulled itself onto the bank. Eyes gleaming, it opened its mouth to bare the circle of jagged lamprey teeth and slithered forward with a hiss.

  Grabbing my swords, I staggered to my feet. But as I raised my weapons, the tentacles reaching for us suddenly retracted as if stung. The octopus-blob thing lurched to a halt, peering at us with blank silver eyes. Then, with a hiss, it turned and fled, tentacles carrying it over the ground and back down the bank. There was a splash as it reached the river, and then silence as it sank back into the depths and disappeared from sight.

  Frowning, I glanced back at my companions. “What the hell just happened?”

  Kenzie, looking just as baffled as I felt, shrugged. “Maybe you scared it off?”

  A low chuckle echoed behind us from the edge of the trees. “The fox does not run away from the mouse, little human,” rumbled a deep, gravelly voice that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “Unless, of course, it knows the bear is coming.”

  Heart in my throat, I turned.

  Something watched us from edge of the forest, nearly invisible in the shadows, except for a pair of gold-green eyes shining with subtle amusement. Something huge and black, with shaggy fur spiked out in every direction. It gave another chuckle and padded into the moonlight.

  A wolf, I realized as it slid out of the dark. A black wolf...the size of a freaking Budweiser horse. The top of my head barely reached its huge shoulders, and its jaws were about the length of my arm. It was smiling as it padded into view, its tongue lolling out between rows of slick white fangs. I quickly stepped in front of Kenzie, raising my swords as it loomed closer, and the massive wolf snorted in clear disgust.

  “Ugh, why must we go through this silly dance every single time I meet one of you?” it rumbled, making no sense whatsoever. I’d never seen this thing before and would certainly remember meeting a giant-ass wolf that could talk. The huge canine shook his head. “Do you think those little toys will hurt me, boy?” it asked in an overly patient tone, its teeth flashing in the dim light as it spoke. “Do you even know who I am?”

  “I do,” the Thin Man said, startling me. The tall faery stepped up beside me, narrowing his pale eyes, and the wolf stared back, unblinking. “I remember you,” the Thin Man said softly. “When you came through my town. I remember you and the Winter prince, the Summer jester and the seer. That seer—the one whose time was already up—she should have never left Phaed. I knew it was folly to let her go, but you and the prince refused to leave her behind.” The Thin Man’s voice grew hard, bitterness seeping into his words. “I could have stopped them there, even the Winter prince. But you were the one that helped them escape, escape with her, and because of that one oversight, this entire mess came to pass.” He pointed at the wolf with a long, stabby finger. “If not for the seer, the Winter prince would have failed, but because she lived, the prophecy was set into motion. If the First Queen and the Iron Prince emerge victorious, let it be on your head.”

  The wolf growled, showing his enormous fangs and making the ground vibrate. “You did not know what would happen any more than I did,” it rumbled, the spikes on the back of its shoulders bristling angrily. “Nor could you know what might’ve happened, had the Winter prince not fulfilled his quest. Perhaps a future worse than this one. Perhaps he would have become a monster even more terrible than the First Queen.”

  “Or perhaps he would have died, and the child of prophecy, the one who is responsible for bringing the First Queen to power once again, would never have been born!”

  “Hey!” Kenzie stepped between the Thin Man and the wolf, glaring at them both. “Stop it, both of you,” she ordered, as the Thin Man blinked and the wolf pricked his ears in amused surprise. “This isn’t helping anything. Who cares who did what, and who’s responsible for which prophecy? We can’t go back and change it. So, instead of pointing fingers at each other, why don’t we try stopping it now?” She turned to face the huge wolf, back straight, completely unafraid. “I take it you’re the guide Grimalkin told us about?” she asked, while I held my breath and tried not to imagine those massive jaws biting her head off. “The one who can help us find Annwyl?”

  The wolf stared at her, then barked a guttural laugh, making me jump. “The little human has teeth,” he remarked, and lowered himself to his haunches, giving Kenzie an almost approving look. Sheathing my blades, I edged up so that I was standing beside her, just in case. Even sitting down, the wolf towered over her. “But you are correct, little mortal. I am the best tracker in the Deep Wyld, the wyldwood and all the Nevernever. The wretched cat informed me that you were searching for a Summer gentry that had crossed the river into the Deep Wyld. He suggested I might lead you to her.” He snorted, curling a lip in disdain. “Normally, such effortless hunts are a waste of my time, but the cat would not call on me if it was not important.” He panted, baring shiny teeth in an evil grin. “And I would never turn down the opportunity to hold a favor over his arrogant, insufferable head.

  “Well, then.” Stretching with easy grace, the wolf glanced at me and the Thin Man. “Shall we get on with it, then? I smelled a Summer gentry passing through not long ago, so the trail will not be difficult to find.”

  “What about Grimalkin?” Kenzie wondered.

  The wolf shrugged.

  “The cat is not coming. He said he wouldn’t be joining you this time, something about returning to the realm that needed him. Good riddance, if you ask me. Listening to him talk makes me want to snap his head off.” The wolf rolled his glowing eyes. “Let’s go. The sooner we get this done, the better. But, I do suggest you stay close, little humans. The Deep Wyld is not a place that takes kindly to tr
espassers. Don’t leave the trail, and don’t wander off by yourselves. If you stare into the trees and something stares back, ignore it and keep walking. If something calls your name, ignore it and keep walking. With any luck, you’ll leave the Deep Wyld with the same number that you started with.”

  “We’re here for Annwyl,” I reminded the wolf, as he turned and padded soundlessly toward the tree line. “We should leave with one more than we started with.” He snorted without looking back.

  “I know.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHICKEN BARGAINS

  Surprisingly, the journey through the Deep Wyld was not as treacherous as I feared. Though it could have been, I suspected, far more dangerous than the river, or the wyldwood, or any realm we’d encountered so far. Unlike the hazy gray twilight of the wyldwood, this forest was almost pitch-black. The canopy shut out the sky, and Kenzie’s mini-flashlight beam seemed weak in the absolute darkness of the Deep Wyld. I could feel eyes on me from every angle, watching from the trees and shadow.

  Back in the wyldwood, things moved through the brush and in the corners of your eyes, just enough to make you paranoid. In the Deep Wyld, the feeling of being watched was constant to the point of driving you crazy. As if the entire forest—trees, rocks, even the darkness itself—was watching you, judging you, and if you stared back too hard, you might see something horrible.

  Apparently, I wasn’t the only one on edge.

  “Do you feel like we’re being watched?” Kenzie asked after several minutes of hiking. Razor, perched on her shoulder, gazed around with huge green eyes and occasionally mumbled something under his breath, showing a glimmer of neon light.

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “I do.” I checked my swords, making sure they were still there, at my waist. “Wonder how long it’ll be before something comes leaping out at us?”

  A few paces ahead, the wolf snorted.

  “Don’t worry so much, little humans,” he growled, glancing back at us. “Nothing will attack you here.”

  “How can you be sure?” Kenzie asked.

  “Because you are with me,” the wolf replied.

  “Right,” I muttered, unconvinced. Yeah, the wolf was huge, and strong, and scary, but I’d seen things like giants and dragons that were way bigger. “And who are you, again?”

  “Not very bright, are you?” was the rumbled answer. “I am Wolf, Ethan Chase. Every story, every tale that you’ve heard that had a wolf in it, that was me. The Grimm brothers, Aesop the storyteller, even your modern fable of a man who becomes a beast the night of the full moon. Those stories are all mine. You should know who I am.”

  “Oh,” I said, as it finally clicked. Not a wolf. The Wolf. The one who ate Red Riding Hood’s grandma, terrorized the Boy who cried Wolf and threatened the three little pigs. The Big Bad Wolf himself.

  I shut up after that.

  A while later, we stopped at a small stream. How long we’d been trekking through the Deep Wyld, I couldn’t say. Hours or days, for all I knew. The Wolf never slowed except to sniff the ground or the air, testing the wind, and then he was off again. A rickety wooden bridge spanned the banks of the stream, even though it was barely three feet across, and the Wolf sniffed that, too.

  “She’s been here,” he said, curling a lip. His fangs flashed briefly in the darkness as he pulled back, wrinkling his nose, and I frowned.

  “Something wrong?”

  “Not for me. But you might want to see this.”

  Warily, I walked around to the bridge entrance. Someone had nailed a chicken’s head and feet to each of the wooden posts. A few blood-caked feathers fluttered in the breeze, and I joined the Wolf in wrinkling my nose.

  “Ew,” Kenzie said, echoing my sentiment. “What the heck is that?”

  “It’s a warning,” the Wolf said. “Whoever put this up is telling people to stay away. Not a problem in itself, but if it’s the person I think it is, your girl could be in a lot of trouble if she passed through here.” He shook himself, then sprang lightly over the stream, looking back with glowing eyes. “Let’s go. And don’t touch the water. You’ll turn into a frog if you drink it.”

  We crossed the bridge, being careful not to touch the grisly remains, and continued into the Deep Wyld.

  “At least we’re on the right track,” Kenzie commented, as Razor perched on her shoulder and muttered, “Bleh, chicken heads. Bleh!” over and over again. “Maybe we’ll catch up to her soon.”

  “I hope so,” I muttered. “This place is starting to...”

  Somewhere in the woods, a branch snapped. Stopping in the middle of the trail, I pulled Kenzie to a halt, frowning.

  “I heard something,” I growled. Kenzie immediately shushed Razor and fell silent, head cocked as she listened. Up ahead, the Wolf had also paused, ears pricked and head raised to the breeze.

  Something was coming toward us through the trees. Something massive. Something that caused the ground to shake and the branches of the trees to sway wildly back and forth.

  The Wolf whirled around, bristling.

  “Move!” he snarled at me. “Get out of sight, humans. Now.”

  We scrambled around a tree as the crashing and snapping got louder. The Thin Man vanished, and the Wolf melted into shadow, as something huge and heavy continued to stomp its way toward us.

  When I peeked around the trunk, my mouth nearly fell open in astonishment.

  It was...a house. A flipping house was walking through the forest, on a pair of gigantic chicken legs. Incredulous, I blinked hard and looked again, making sure I was seeing this right. Yep, it was definitely chicken legs. The gnarled yellow talons squelched mud and snapped branches in their wake, carrying the ramshackle wooden hut through the trees with every stride. I could only stare after it, gaping, as the house with chicken feet walked past, trailing a curl of smoke from the chimney, and continued into the forest.

  “O-kaaay,” Kenzie remarked after the crashing had died down and the woods were silent again. “I’m not crazy, am I? Everyone else just saw a house walk by us, right?”

  Razor buzzed and nodded vigorously, ears flapping. “Funny house!” he exclaimed. “Funny house, funny feet, ha!”

  “Blast it all,” said the Thin Man, emerging from behind a tiny sapling that was more twig than tree. “Unfortunate that she is lurking about this area of the Deep Wyld. I was hoping we could avoid her. Can you still pick up the girl’s trail?” he asked the Wolf. “Is it still around? Where does it lead?”

  The Wolf stared at us and didn’t answer. I sighed. “It’s going in the same direction, isn’t it?” I guessed.

  He grinned. “The hunt just got interesting.”

  We followed the house, which was pretty easy since it left a giant, house-sized trail of destruction behind it. Crushed vegetation, snapped limbs, broken branches and huge, chicken-shaped footprints in the dirt. Eventually, we came to a small clearing, where you could almost see the sky through the massive trunks surrounding the glen. The house sat, or crouched, or perched, in the very center, the legs now folded underneath it. A fence surrounded it, but the closer I looked, the more it seemed that the posts and railings were made of bone, topped with various skulls. Several chickens milled around the yard, scratching and pecking, seemingly unconcerned that a freaking house had just marched up and plopped itself down inside the fence.

  Kenzie nudged my arm. “Look at that,” she said, pointing to a crude wooden X near the perimeter of the trees. More skulls and chicken feet dangled from it, spinning lazily in the wind. The Wolf snorted.

  “More keep-out signs,” he sniffed, and gave an exaggerated yawn. “As if that would stop me. Well, humans? Are you going down there or not? I’ll wait for you here. Probably better that way, trust me. No one wants to look up and see a wolf on their doorstep.”

  “And you’re certain Annwyl wen
t down there?” I asked.

  “I can smell the girl’s trail from here,” was the growled answer. “It leads straight to the front gate and does not return. If she is still alive, she never left that house.”

  “Foolish girl.” The Thin Man shook his head, staring at the house with grave eyes. “Foolish, or desperate. Some old powers you do not seek out, for any reason.”

  “Why?” Kenzie asked, watching as the house shifted, creaking and groaning, before it was still again. “Who lives here, exactly?”

  “A witch,” the Wolf said, curling a lip. “Old, though not as old as me. She travels the Nevernever in that ridiculous house of hers, sometimes in the wyldwood, sometimes in the Deep Wyld, never in one place for long. She doesn’t bother me, and as long as she stays out of my hunting grounds, I return the favor. Still, she has many names and many legends of her own in the mortal realm. It’s best for you humans to be cautious when dealing with her.”

  “It’s best not to deal with her at all,” the Thin Man added, crossing his arms. “But, if we must, we must. Again, it cannot be overstated how careful you must be, humans. The witch of this house is indeed old and powerful, and also quite unpredictable. She might help, or she might attempt to trap you into making a deal you will regret. So do watch what you say around her.”

  Kenzie sighed and shared a glance with me. “Normal day in Faeryland.”

  I gave a weary nod. “You know what to do if I’m about to sell my soul.”

  Together, we stepped away from the trees and walked steadily toward the house. As we drew close to the fence, which was made completely of bones, the front door creaked open and a bent old woman hobbled down the steps into the yard. Tangled white hair hung around her face; her skin was lined and shriveled like a walnut, and a ragged shawl was wrapped over bony shoulders. She looked like somebody’s grandmother but also like every witch in every fairy tale I’d read. The only things missing were the black robes and pointy hat.