by Julie Kagawa
“How do you know this isn’t the real me?” I turned, smiling broadly, and saw Ash stiffen for the barest second. “Maybe I’ve been playing a huge, elaborate prank on you for years. Or maybe this is who I always was, I just never showed anyone.”
Ash didn’t smile. “If that were true,” he said, in an almost pained voice, “then we would still be enemies. The journeys we had, the times before Ariella, where we traveled to all corners of the Nevernever, those years would have never happened.”
“Yeah,” I husked out, and suddenly, both daggers were in my hands. I didn’t know what I was doing; I didn’t know where this rage was coming from, but now that I’d started down this path, I couldn’t seem to stop. “Here’s a notion, Your Highness,” I said, pointing at him with one dagger. “Did you ever think that maybe I never quite forgave you for stealing her away from me all those years ago?”
“We are way past that, Puck.” Ash’s voice was soft; he hadn’t drawn his weapon or even put a hand on his blade, but his whole posture was stiff.
“Really?” I sneered. “How long did you try to kill me after Ariella died, Ash? How many years?” I swept my other weapon up, pointing at the towers of the Iron Palace looming overhead. “More than the years you’ve spent with Meghan, that’s for damn sure. And for what?”
Reaching up, I hooked two fingers in my collar and yanked it down, revealing a thin white gash across my collarbone. “This is yours, ice-boy,” I spat at him. “Remember that? I have more than a few scars from the times you almost killed me, because you swore an oath of vengeance over a girl. Do you ever think about that? Do you ever think that maybe I was just as angry as you when I lost the one I loved? So, don’t tell me we’re past it, Your Highness. You know as well as I do, we’re fey. Grudges last a lifetime with us.”
“So, what do you want to do, Goodfellow?” Ash wondered quietly. He raised his arms in a resigned motion, watching me with bleak silver eyes. “Enact your own oath? Swear vengeance on me, right here?”
“No.” I gave him a vicious smile. “Not my style, ice-boy. You know my general dislike of obligation and responsibility. I’m not going to bind myself to some ridiculous vow and then regret ever making it.” Stepping back, I sheathed my daggers, grinning at him all the while. “I just want you to remember, I haven’t forgotten, prince. So, you had better watch your back. This thing isn’t over yet.”
Ash said nothing. He just watched me, his expression unreadable. With a final sneer, I turned and left the gardens, heading back into the palace.
I could feel his gaze on me the entire way.
* * *
Back in the guest quarters, I went to my personal room and wandered onto the balcony, gazing out over the city below. In the shadowy twilight, Mag Tuiredh glimmered like a valley of fireflies, glowing with streetlamps, vehicles, even the Iron fey themselves. Leaning against the railing, I watched the sun set over the city of the Iron fey and thought back to my last conversation in the courtyard, when I basically told my best friend we were still enemies, and he’d better watch his back.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I wasn’t born yesterday. I’d been through enough curses to know I wasn’t acting like myself. Ever since the fight with the big bad, I’d been sliding further into my nasty, more primal nature. So, I knew this situation wasn’t normal, that whatever the monster did, it had awakened something I’d thought was buried. But the anger I’d felt toward Ash was real. I couldn’t just shut it away and pretend it wasn’t there. Puck might’ve been able to do that, for friendship’s sake. But I wasn’t him any longer. I was Robin Goodfellow, and right now, a bit of old-fashioned retribution sounded like a lot of fun.
After we’d killed this monster. I could be patient until then.
“Admiring the view?”
I jumped and whirled around. “Geez, Nyx! Don’t do that to me.” I shook my head at the cloaked Forgotten who had somehow poofed onto the balcony with me. Not even shadows and wraiths had an easy time sneaking up on yours truly; a lifetime of playing pranks had made me somewhat paranoid of retaliation. “Is that your personal brand of assassination, then?” I asked the faintly smirking Forgotten. “The heart attack special? If you ever want to give up the assassin thing, you’d be a natural at surprise parties.”
“Generally, I find a dagger is a much better alternative to stopping someone’s heart than a surprise party,” was the wry response. “There’s far less of a chance they’ll stab you back.”
“That’s your answer for everything, isn’t it? Stab it in the heart.”
“It hasn’t failed me yet.” Her eyes narrowed, and suddenly, everything about her turned dangerous. “Especially when someone I know is about to start a fight with the prince consort of the Iron Realm, and I’m wondering if I’m going to have to stab him myself.”
My grin faded. “You saw that, did you?”
“Once the sun went down, I ventured out to let you know I was all right. I figured I’d find you outside, probably in the courtyard or gardens, so I headed there.” Nyx’s voice was hard, her golden eyes cold in the shadow of her hood. “Imagine my concern when I saw you pull your daggers on none other than the Iron Queen’s husband. If anyone else saw that, you could have been killed.”
“Very doubtful.” I grinned at her, waving away the concern. “No one would dare attack Robin Goodfellow here. Besides, Ash and I have gone at it so many times, if we don’t threaten each other occasionally people will wonder what’s wrong.”
“I saw the look in your eyes, Puck.” Nyx’s lethal expression didn’t change. “I heard what you said. That was not the look of a faery who was joking.”
“I wasn’t,” I told her, sobering for the moment. “I meant what I said. This thing with me and ice-boy, it goes way back. Before Meghan, before the Iron Kingdom, before the rise of the Lady and the Forgotten. It’s not exactly a secret, nearly everyone knows the history between us.” Leaning back, I cocked my head, regarding the Forgotten across from me. “But I’m sort of struggling with why you should care.”
Nyx’s eyes gleamed dangerously. “We’re on an important mission,” she reminded me. “In case you’ve forgotten, the monster we’re chasing nearly killed us both the last time we encountered it. We need powerful allies if we want to have any hope of defeating this threat. The prince consort of the Iron Realm is one of those powerful allies. Furthermore...” She hesitated, a shadow crossing her face as she stared me down. “Keirran is my king. I swore an oath to protect him, his kingdom, and his kin for as long as I am able to do so. If you raise your weapon against Keirran’s father, Puck, I will have no choice but to cut you down.”
“That easy, is it?” I smirked at her, trying to ignore the instant flare of vindictive defiance. “Do you know how many times I’ve heard those exact words, Miss Assassin? Do you know how many times something has tried to kill Robin Goodfellow? More times than I can count. But I’m still here, and if you want to try, I’m afraid you’re going to have to get in line.”
“I don’t know that Robin Goodfellow,” Nyx said flatly. “His name does not inspire the fear that it does in others. You would just be another target, Puck.”
I clenched my jaw. It felt like she had taken one of her moonblades and driven it straight into my heart. Meeting her eyes, I forced a hard smile. “Well then, I aspire to surprise and disappoint you. No promises, but I think you’re going to find Robin Goodfellow your most difficult target yet.”
Nyx didn’t flinch. “Don’t make me your enemy, Puck,” she warned. “We’re on the same side in this. We want the same thing. If you are going to take your vengeance on Keirran’s father, at least wait until after we’ve killed this monster. Surely you can see that eliminating this threat takes precedence over any plans for revenge.”
“Oh, don’t worry, Miss Assassin.” I leaned back against the railing with a shrug. “I know what’s at stake, and I told ice-boy the
same thing. Taking care of the big nasty comes first. I fully intend to indulge in some good old-fashioned Robin Goodfellow pranks, but only after I’ve carved this thing into tiny pieces and danced a jig on them.” I crossed my arms and stared her down. “So, you can relax. I’m not going to slip a dozen vipers into ice-boy’s mattress. Not today, at least.”
The Forgotten considered me without expression. “Is this the side that everyone is afraid of?” she wondered. “The faery with the reputation? Is this the true nature of Robin Goodfellow?”
“What if it is?”
Nyx shook her head and took a step back. “I liked Puck better,” she said softly, right before she shimmered into moonlight and disappeared.
Alone on the balcony, I turned and leaned against the railing, gazing down on the glittering lights of Mag Tuiredh. And I wondered if I would just keep pushing everyone away until I was, truly, all alone.
Part Three
TIR NA NOG
A few centuries ago
It was possibly not the best idea I’d ever had, but I’d never let that stop me.
It was the name that piqued my interest: The Lost City of Frozen Skull Forest. I mean, how could you not be curious? Lost cities typically had all manner of ancient treasures, and all manner of ancient beasties, traps, and guardians to overcome. Never mind that it was deep in Unseelie territory, in a tangled, frigid wood that I discovered was also home to some very cranky ice trolls who didn’t take kindly to me stomping through their hunting grounds. I was, of course, not supposed to be there. I was part of the Summer Court, and this was Winter’s territory; if Mab or any of the Unseelie discovered I was trespassing, it was within their rights to have me killed.
Again, not that I ever let that stop me.
“Well, that was fun,” I muttered, dusting snow off my hands and gazing around. The bodies of the three ice trolls that attacked me had already turned to stone, which was what happened when you tried to ambush Robin Goodfellow. I had nothing against trolls, but if you were going to pop out of your little ice hole to try to shove a claw through my face, expect me to do some stabbing in return. “Sorry about your luck, guys. Though I do appreciate the knowledge that there are troll holes in the world. That alone is worth it. Now...where the heck is this lost city?”
Turning from the bodies, I scanned the forest, shielding my eyes from the glimmer of sunlight on the snow. It was suddenly very quiet.
I paused a moment, listening to the forest, then smiled.
“You’re awfully good,” I called to the empty air. “I can’t get a bearing on where you are, so congratulations for that. But you might as well come out. Unless you plan on staying in a troll hole all afternoon. There’s no reason to hide, I don’t bite. Hard.”
For a few heartbeats, there was only silence. Then a ripple of glamour went through the air, and a dark form stepped out from behind a cluster of trees. Tall and lean, like most gentry, he was dressed completely in black, with a cape that rippled behind him and a glittering blue sword at his side.
My eyebrows arched as the faery prowled forward and stopped at the edge of the circle, watching me with eyes like silver coins. “Well, don’t I feel important,” I announced, smirking in the face of that cold, hostile stare. “If it isn’t Mab’s favorite son. What was your name again, princeling, something with a tree, right? Prince Dogwood, Prince Huckleberry? Tell me if I’m getting close. Prince Crabapple?”
“You don’t need to know my name,” the Winter faery replied. “It won’t matter for much longer. I know who you are, Robin Goodfellow.”
“You and the rest of the Nevernever, princeling,” I drawled. “Not much of a mystery, there. Everyone knows who I am.”
“I also know that you’re trespassing.”
“Wow, nothing escapes you, does it?” I grinned at his annoyed look. “Well, Your Highness, guess I’ll just have to call you ice-boy until you actually grace me with your name.”
I knew his name, of course. He’d been to several Elysiums now, and one did not forget the sons of Mab. I’d crossed paths, and blades, with his two brothers before. Sage was a competent swordsman, and sometimes hunted the woods of the Nevernever, but as the heir of the Winter Queen, he was almost always surrounded by warriors and gentry of the Unseelie Court. We had dueled a few times, but I got the feeling that Sage was almost bored with the hassle of it all, and the only reason we were fighting was that it was expected of us. I couldn’t stand the other brother, Rowan; he reminded me of a grinning viper that would bite you as soon as your back was turned. He, too, was a competent swordsman, but I very rarely saw him outside of the court and Elysium. From what I’d observed, he probably didn’t like getting his fancy clothes all dirty. Though I had to admit, it took talent to pull off white on white.
So, how would Ash, the youngest son of Mab, stack up to his brothers?
Ash took several steps forward, prowling like a panther over the snowy ground. He certainly moved like a fighter, graceful and sure-footed. His sword pulsed blue against the pale backdrop as he stared at me with a cold, flat expression. “You’re trespassing in Unseelie lands, Robin Goodfellow,” he told me in an icy voice. “No one from the Summer Court may cross into Tir Na Nog without the queen’s permission. According to ancient law, I could kill you on sight for this transgression.”
“Not going to happen, ice-boy,” I said breezily. “But you could certainly try—whoop!”
The words were barely out of my mouth when Ash gestured, and a flurry of glittering ice daggers sped toward me out of nowhere. I dodged and twisted, and the frozen projectiles went hissing into the woods, sticking in tree trunks and pinging off rocks. Grinning, I looked back at the Winter prince, who looked slightly annoyed that I wasn’t peppered with ice shards.
“Oho, that was a sneaky move, princeling.” Pulling my daggers, I twirled them once and shook my head at the still impassive Winter faery. “You almost had me. I was sure you were going to spend at least the first half of the fight monologuing like your brother.” Raising my chin, I looked down my nose at him while striking a ridiculously imperious pose. “‘Well, well, well, what have we here?’” I drawled in my best nasal voice. “‘A lost Seelie dog, come sniffing around where he doesn’t belong. Oh wait, not a dog, but a vermin. A Summer vermin, in the land of Winter. How do you want me to dispatch you, vermin? Let me regale you with the ways,’ blah blah blah.” I rolled my eyes. “Makes you want to stab yourself just to get him to stop talking.”
One corner of the prince’s mouth twitched, as if he was fighting to not smile. “I’m not Rowan,” he said. “I don’t see the point in talking when we should be fighting. If I’m going to duel someone, it’s to hone my skills, not to listen to a speech.” He looked like he, too, was on the verge of rolling his eyes, before he caught himself. Setting his jaw, he raised his sword and pointed it in my direction. “But that is a prince of Winter you’re disparaging, Summer fey. I should cut out your tongue for such mockery.”
I smiled. “You and everyone else in the Nevernever, princeling,” I said cheerfully, and raised my own weapons, feeling glamour swirl around me. “Well, shall we get on with it, then? Though I can’t promise not to creatively insult you while we’re trying to kill each other. That’s just part of the fun.”
Ash returned the smile, though his was rather grim. “That will be difficult once your tongue is missing,” he said, and lunged at me.
We met in the center of the clearing, blades flashing and snow twirling around us. To no one’s surprise, the youngest son of Mab was a skilled swordsman. He wasn’t as viciously sneaky as Rowan or as formal as Sage, but he was quite graceful, and faster than either of them. I found myself working hard to avoid or counter his blows, which was both surprising and delightful. It had been so long since I’d had a decent challenge. I think I liked this kid enough to really play with him.
“Not bad, ice-boy, not bad,” I taunted, leaping ba
ck from a stab to the chest. He gestured sharply, and I ducked the ice daggers that came at my head, snatching a few dead leaves from the ground as I rose. “I hope you’re having as much fun as I am. In fact, I’m having so much fun, I think I need to invite my friends to the party.”
I tossed the leaves into the air, and they exploded into three identical Pucks, grinning widely as they surrounded the prince. Ash jerked back, momentarily startled, as all four of us Pucks laughed, our voices ringing over the treetops.
“My brothers said you were devious and didn’t fight fair.” Ash parried a dagger thrust at him but immediately had to step back as another Puck pressed close, swiping at his head. “I see that they were right.”
“You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know, ice-boy,” I said, leaning back and watching him dance around the clearing with the copies. “But if you already know so much about me, you should have predicted this. And if you knew it was going to happen, you should have already been prepared for it.”
The prince snarled. “I am.”
Leaping back, Ash raised his sword, then thrust it point down into the snow. I felt the ripple of glamour spread over the ground in an icy wave, and quickly leaped into the air, changing into a raven midjump. Below me, there was a flash of blue, and a layer of ice instantly coated everything, freezing the duplicate Pucks and turning them into rime-covered statues.
Whoa, that was a lot of glamour. Well, congratulations, prince, I am officially impressed.
Swooping down, I landed on one Puck’s head, pecking curiously at his hair. The duplicate radiated cold, his face frozen into a permanent startled expression.
