by Julie Kagawa
Now.
Pushing off the branch, I flapped into the air, soaring toward the clearing and the creature in the center. Catching a current, I glided up until I was directly overhead the monstrous form, then tucked my wings and dove right for it. With a pulse of glamour and feathers, I shed my bird form and dropped toward its head, daggers raised to end this fight once and for all.
“Surprise, ugly!” I called, right before the ground beneath it came to life.
Shadowy tentacles exploded from the earth, surging into the air like an enraged kraken, hissing and flailing about. I yelped, twisting wildly to avoid them as they shot toward me, and managed to avoid two as they slithered by. Then something cold and sharp slammed into my ribs, driving the air from my lungs. I gave a breathless yell, instantly driving my blade into it, but the thing coiled around like a snake, pinning my arms even as it had me impaled through the middle.
Shockingly, there was no pain. But more images flashed through my mind like a strobe light, blips of thought and emotion, too fast to see. I felt something inside me pushing to get out, like a long-buried memory being dragged into the light. I was being torn in half from within, and my strangled yell caught halfway in my throat as I felt that other presence shuffling around in my head.
I see you.
There was a streak of light, and a spinning crescent shot beneath me, severing the tentacle as it passed. I fell, and it was a good thing I already had no air in my lungs, or I would’ve lost it all right then as I smashed face-first into the ground. The tentacles pinning my arms dissolved to shadow, and I pushed myself upright to see I was surrounded by a forest of flailing tendrils, and the monster looming overhead, blank white eyes fixed on me as it raised a claw.
A lightning bolt streaked overhead, slamming into the monster’s chest, causing it to stagger back with a roar. At the same time, something grabbed the back of my hoodie, yanked me upright, and slung my arm around their shoulders.
“Dammit, Goodfellow,” Nyx hissed in my ear. “Keep those things off us for a second. I need a shadow, and the only one big enough is the creature’s.”
“I have no idea what that means,” I wheezed. “But whatever you say—”
The tentacles flailed at us. I slashed at them one-armed, gritting my teeth, as Nyx dodged and yanked us out of the way. Overhead, the monster recovered with a snarl. Gazing down at us, its muzzle curled balefully, it took a thunderous step forward, raising its talons again. Nyx’s fingers tightened on my arm, and I felt a shiver go through me as a bit of my glamour was siphoned away.
“Hold on,” Nyx muttered and sprang forward, darting into the monster’s shadow as its talons scythed down at us. For a second, there was absolute darkness.
And then we were stumbling from the shadow of a tree into the open, collapsing to the ground as soon as we were clear. A few yards away, Keirran turned, eyes widening in relief as he spotted us.
Breathing hard, the Forgotten King jogged up to us, his face pale. “Nyx. Puck. Are you two all right?”
Something shifted in my head, like a worm oozing through a crack that hadn’t been there before. Disgust flickered, and I sneered at him, my tone cutting. “Oh sure, princeling. I just love getting my face kicked in for shits and giggles, don’t you?”
“It wouldn’t have happened,” Nyx said, her own voice cold, “if you hadn’t decided to attack the monster by yourself.”
“Stop it, both of you,” Keirran ordered, and the Forgotten immediately fell silent, bowing her head. “We don’t have time to argue. That thing is still coming.”
A rumbling growl punctuated his words. I glanced up to see the monster stalking toward us, surrounded by tentacles that sprouted from the earth and lashed the air around it. Its blank, dead white eyes were fixed on me.
I felt its absolute hatred and loathing for all living things, and for the first time in ages, a shiver of fear crawled down my back. This wasn’t the first time I had faced a creature that was seemingly invulnerable; there were many times in my life where a tactical retreat had been the only option. I knew, suddenly, that we couldn’t beat this thing. Even with the Forgotten King’s triple glamour on our side, the bastard was too strong. But there was no retreat this night, no discretion being the better part of valor. Keirran would never abandon the fight when his people were in danger, and the assassin sworn to protect him wouldn’t, either. They would die fighting this thing, and there was no way I was running away, only to tell Meghan and Ash I let their kid get torn apart by a monster that couldn’t be killed.
I shot a sideways glance at my companions. Keirran stared at the creature, his face pale but determined as he raised his weapon, the faint tremble of the sword betraying how tired he was. Nyx pushed herself upright, calling her blades to her hands, but I had seen that look on her face before. The one that said you knew you couldn’t win, but you were going to give it everything you had before you died, dammit.
I sighed, but drew my daggers and struggled to my feet. My chest hurt, my face felt like a Jeep had bounced over it a few times, and the persistent throbbing pain in my ribs and lungs was making it hard to breathe. But Keirran and Nyx weren’t going to run, and I’d be damned if I let them be heroically tragic without me.
All righty, then. This is gonna hurt.
The monster stalked closer, its silhouette blocking out the sky, the huge antlers crowning its skull stabbing up like tree branches. The tentacles on its back hissed and writhed, mirroring the ones sprouting from the earth. The monster reared up and roared, making the ground shake, then dropped to all fours with a crash, bristling and ready to charge.
I drew in a deep, painful breath, gathering what was left of my glamour to me, and felt a vicious grin cross my face. If Death had finally caught up, that was fine, but I was going to go out laughing at him, as I’d promised.
Suddenly, the creature paused. A ripple went through the air, the faintest tremor on the wind, making my skin prickle. The night darkened, and a ragged mist began creeping toward us, coiling along the ground and swirling around the field of tentacles.
The monster straightened and turned to gaze over its shoulder, as if sensing something we could not. Its nostrils flared, its breath writhing into the air as it huffed.
“What is it doing?” Nyx muttered, her voice strained. “Why doesn’t it attack?”
“I dunno,” I whispered. “Maybe there’s a hot dog joint nearby?”
The monster snarled. Its head swung toward us again but it hesitated, obviously torn between attacking and going toward whatever had caught its attention. Abruptly, it spun and loped into the trees, the fog curling around its body as it disappeared.
“Follow it.” Keirran raised a hand, frost and glamour sparkling from his fingertips. “We can’t let it escape. I’ll clear the way.”
He knelt and pressed his palm to the earth, releasing a pulse of icy glamour that caused the ground to freeze over. The carpet of flailing tentacles didn’t turn to ice and shatter like I was hoping, but they did dissolve into wisps of shadow and curl away into nothing. Keirran slumped, breathing hard, but then raised his head to glare at us.
“Go,” he ordered. “Find it. I think it’s headed for the River of Dreams.”
“Keirran...”
“Go! Don’t worry about me, I’ll catch up in a second. Just stop that thing before we lose it completely.”
Nyx looked reluctant but turned and sprinted into the trees, heading in the direction the monster had disappeared.
I groaned. “Right, chase down the unkillable monster instead of letting it walk away and leave us unmauled,” I said, and followed the Forgotten into the mist. “I love this plan.”
We came out of the trees, and the bank of the enormous River of Dreams stretched before us, its dark waters shrouded in the thick fog creeping up the bank. The largest body of water in Faery, the massive river wound its way through the Nevernever,
into the Deep Wyld, and flowed all the way to the literal End of the World, where its waters cascaded off the edge into empty space. Very few had ever seen the End of the World (yours truly being one of them), but everyone in Faery knew about the River of Dreams, carrying the glamour of billions of snoozing humans through the Nevernever, infusing it with the magic of dreams and nightmares.
And speaking of nightmares.
It was standing at the edge of the river, a hulking, twisted form against the fog rolling up the bank. The tendrils on its back writhed as it turned and regarded us with those empty, baleful eyes that seemed to both chill and burn right though you. A section of fog curled away behind it, revealing a long, rickety dock extending out over the water and vanishing into the wall of mist.
The creature stared at us. For a moment, it seemed we would have another fight on our hands. Its lip curled up, showing jagged fangs, and its tentacles snapped eagerly as we sprinted toward the riverbank. Then it whirled and bounded onto the dock, its long, gangly limbs carrying it toward the river. Toward the wall of mist hovering on the water’s surface. It thundered down the dock and hurled itself off the edge. An enormous splash followed as the massive creature plunged headfirst into the River of Dreams.
I slid down the bank and sprinted to the end of the dock, searching for the monster as my boots thumped against the rickety planks. I caught a glimpse of the creature’s twisted body just as it vanished beneath the surface. In seconds, fog coiled around the hole left behind, the rippling waters stilled, and the monster was gone.
6
BRINGING IN THE BIG GUNS
“You caused this.”
The accusation came from behind me, hanging in the air as I watched the mist curl around the spot where the creature had disappeared. Nyx stood at the top of the bank, swords in hand, glaring at me with narrowed golden eyes.
“Why didn’t you wait for us?” she demanded. “If we had worked together, we might’ve been able to kill it. Why did you decide you could attack it on your own? Now we have to track it down again, because you thought you could be a hero.”
Her words stung for a second, because she was right. I might’ve been a tad overconfident back there, and as the saying went: pride goeth before a nasty tentacle thing stabbing you in the chest and body-slamming you to the ground.
But then anger flickered as something ugly uncoiled from a hidden place deep inside, spreading through me like an oily stain.
“Funny.” I turned to face the other faery, feeling an evil smirk cross my face. “I don’t remember having to answer to you. Are you a queen now? Did you and Keirran elope and have a secret marriage ceremony no one knows about?”
For some reason, the thought of Keirran with Nyx annoyed the crap out of me. I had the urge to slip the Forgotten King a potion that would give him permanent donkey ears. Then he would look the part, too.
“I don’t answer to anyone, my good assassin,” I told her. “Every king and queen of Faery will tell you, Robin Goodfellow does what he pleases, whenever he pleases. Even Oberon can’t do anything about that, and believe me, he’s tried. If you think you change that now, well, I welcome the challenge.”
What the hell are you doing, Goodfellow? Deep down, part of myself looked on, appalled. This wasn’t me. Or it was, but it was a side of me that I’d buried long ago, when Robin Goodfellow was still the incorrigible prankster, but his pranks were sadistic and cruel, especially toward humans and those who had insulted him. Ice-boy wasn’t the only faery with a bloody past. Once, I had been Puck of the woods, Puck the nature sprite; wild, carefree, dangerous...and kind of an asshole.
I pushed that tiny voice down as Nyx took a step back, golden eyes widening. Her look of anger was swallowed by alarm, and her arms came up, putting her blades between us. “What is wrong with you, Goodfellow?” she demanded. “You’re different.”
“Am I?” I grinned toothily. “Or am I just who I was all along?”
“No.” She shook her head. “You look different.”
“Are you two all right?”
Keirran came striding up, his expression, too, one of alarm, though his lacked the shadow of anger on Nyx’s face. My eyes narrowed, and I felt the dangerous smile creep farther up my face. The spitefulness in me flared. Suddenly, I wanted to hurt him. This kid who represented my greatest loss, the rejection that still cut to my heart, even to this day. If he happened to disappear, then those responsible would know the same pain I was feeling. Why should they get their happily-ever-after? When would it be my turn to come out on top?
“Puck.” Keirran’s face paled as I turned toward him. “Are you all right? What happened? Did the monster escape?”
“Yep.” For some reason, my daggers were in my hands, and I continued to grin as I stepped forward. “It did. But you know, I don’t really care about that right now. How much glamour did you use up fighting that thing, princeling? I’m curious.”
Like a ripple of shadow, Nyx placed herself between me and her king, both swords in hand as she faced me. “Another step, Goodfellow, and you’ll have to deal with me.”
“Aw, so loyal.” I smirked at her, relishing the thought of fighting this amazingly fast, lethal killer. From what I had seen, she would be a challenge for certain. And I hadn’t had a decent one-on-one duel since ice-boy. “What a good little assassin. I’m almost amused that you think you stand a chance.”
“Puck.” Keirran’s tone was quietly horrified, his expression pained. “Listen to yourself. Whatever that thing did, whatever it brought out, this isn’t you, and you know it.”
“Not me?” I sneered at him as, deep inside, the ugliness spread. “I’ve always known who I am, princeling. I’m the guy no one takes seriously. The guy everyone laughs at, who has a joke for everything, because the world is screwed up and the only way to deal with it is to look it in the eyes and smile. I smile, because it’s either that or get vindictive. And no one likes me when I’m vindictive.” I sneered at him again, challenging and defiant. “So, there you go, prince. The hidden side of Robin Goodfellow. How do you know this isn’t who I’ve been all along?”
The Forgotten King narrowed his eyes, and glamour swirled around him as he raised an arm. “Then take a look at yourself now, Puck, and tell me if this is who you want to be.”
My breath curled in front of my face as the air around us turned frigid. Sparkling motes danced in the moonlight, drawing together with crinkling sounds as something large and rectangular began forming in ice. When it stopped, a full-length mirror sat on the frozen ground, mist writhing off the crystallized surface to coil into the air. Keirran looked at me and took a step back, gesturing to the frozen creation. Nyx followed suit but kept her blades out and her gaze trained on me, ready to defend her king if needed.
“Oh fine.” I crossed my arms. “I know I’m handsome and all, you don’t have to prove it to me. But if you think I’m going to see something I don’t like—”
My stomach dropped, the rest of that sentence hanging in the air as I stared in the mirror. The figure in the reflection still looked like me: worn hoodie, green eyes, red hair that stuck out like I’d been struck by lightning. All very familiar.
Except...I hadn’t had horns this morning.
I blinked, looking again to make sure it wasn’t a trick of the moonlight or the mirror itself. Nope, I definitely had a couple protuberances that I hadn’t had earlier. Small goat horns poked out of my hair, right above my forehead. I raised my arm and prodded them, feeling the short, rough edges against my skin. Further proof that they weren’t an illusion.
And if I had horns...
I grabbed the sides of my pants and yanked them up, revealing the shiny cloven hooves where my feet should’ve been. Shaggy brown fur clung to my ankles, and I could suddenly feel the hair rubbing the inside of my pants, all the way up to my waist.
Okay, that’s...not good.
My insid
es felt sour as that dark, spiteful part of me shriveled up and died. This was bad. This was definitely bad. When had this happened? When the monster thing stabbed me? Or had it infected me so much with its ugly, hateful glamour that I’d turned into this?
“Well...shit.” I straightened and glanced at Keirran, who gave me a grim, understanding look and motioned Nyx to sheathe her weapons. She did so reluctantly but seemed a bit less hostile now.
“I take it this form is not normal for you,” she ventured.
“Do I look like I enjoy prancing around in fuzzy pants?” I curled a lip at her. “Not that I’d recommend it, but you look up Robin Goodfellow or Puck on any computer, and chances are you’ll stumble across this ugly mug. Or versions of him.” I raised both arms in a shrug. “This is what the humans thought I looked like, a few centuries ago, anyway.”
“An evil satyr?”
“Not a satyr.” I held up a finger. “Satyrs are Greek. And they have no impulse control. I might be obnoxious, but I don’t go around at permanent full mast, if you know what I mean. And if you insult me by calling me a faun, I’ll spit in your drink. I’m Puck, and there’s only one of me, as far as I know.”
“Thank goodness for that,” Keirran muttered.
I gave him a very evil smile. “Oh, trust me, princeling. You and the entire Nevernever should be thankful there’s only one.”
Nyx shook her head. “Yes, but why did you change into...that?” she wondered. “We know that creature had something to do with it, but for what purpose? Why did it choose this form?”
“Got me.” I shrugged. “Maybe to piss me off? To spread the rage around a bit? I can tell you now, that thing had plenty to spare.”
“It did not choose that form,” came a new voice. With a ripple of moonlight, a furry gray cat appeared on a nearby stone. Grimalkin gave my new form a lazy sniff and curled his whiskers. “The creature was far too enraged, beyond logical thought, to make any intelligent decisions. As I saw it, you reverted to that yourself.”
