Iron Fey: The Iron King / Winter's Passage / The Iron Daughter / The Iron Queen / Summer's Crossing / The Iron Knight / Iron's Prophecy / The Lost Prince / The Iron Traitor

And with that, Tertius spun on his heel and marched away, still holding the Scepter of the Seasons. It pulsed blue and white in his hands, coating his gauntlets with frost, but he did not fumble. His face was grim as he strode up behind Sage, still locked in battle with the assassins. The wolf thrashed on the ground in a pool of blood, and Sage’s breaths came in ragged gasps as he fought on alone. In horror, I saw what Tertius was going to do and screamed out a warning.

Too late. As Sage cut viciously at one of the Iron fey, he didn’t see Tertius looming behind him until the knight was right there. Aware of the danger at last, Sage whirled, swinging his sword, cutting at Tertius’s head. The knight knocked the blade aside and, as Sage staggered back, took one step forward and plunged his own sword through the Winter prince’s chest.

Time seemed to stop. Sage stood there a moment, a look of shock on his face, staring at the blade in his chest. His own sword hit the ground with a ringing clang.

Then Tertius yanked the blade free, and I gasped. Sage crumpled to the floor, blood pooling from his chest and streaming onto the ice. The assassins tensed to pounce on him, but Tertius blocked them with his sword.

“Enough. We have what we came for. Let’s go.” He flicked blood off the blade and sheathed it, his eyes moving to the corpse of the frozen assassin. “Fetch your brother, quickly. We can leave no evidence behind.”

The Iron fey scrambled to comply, lifting the dead faery onto their shoulders, careful not to touch the ice piercing its skin. They even grabbed the pieces off the floor. Tertius turned to me, his gaze bleak, as darkness hovered on the edge of my vision. “Farewell, Meghan Chase. I hope we do not meet again.” He spun quickly to follow the assassins, marching out of my line of sight. I turned my head to follow them, but they were already gone.

MY HEAD THROBBED, and darkness threatened at the edges of my vision; I took several deep breaths to drive it back. I would not pass out now. Gradually, the churning blackness cleared, and I pulled myself upright, looking around. The throne room had fallen silent again, except for the slow thudding of my heart, which sounded unnaturally loud in my ears. Blood flecked the walls and pooled along the floor, horribly vivid against the pale ice. The altar that had held the Scepter of the Seasons lay empty and bare.

My gaze wandered to the two bodies still in the room with me. Sage lay on his back, his sword a few inches from his hand, gazing up at the ceiling, gasping. A few feet away, the furry body of the wolf, gray fur streaked with blood, lay crumpled on the ice.

Limping, I ran over to Sage, passing the body of the poor wolf, sprawled out next to him. The wolf’s jaws gaped open, and a tongue lolled out between bloody teeth. It had died protecting its master, and I felt sick at the thought.

Just as I reached Sage, a shudder went through the prince’s body. His head arced back, mouth gaping, and ice crawled up from his lips, spreading over his face, down his chest, and all the way to his feet. He stiffened as the air chilled around us, the ice making sharp crinkling sounds as it encased the prince in a crystal cocoon.

No. I looked closer, and realized Sage’s body was turning to ice. His clawed fingers flexed, losing their color, becoming hard and clear. His thumb abruptly snapped off and shattered on the floor. I put both hands to my mouth to keep from screaming. Or vomiting. Sage gave a final jerk and was still, a cold, hard statue where a live body had been a moment before.

The oldest son of the Winter Court was dead.

And that’s how Tiaothin found us a moment later.

Later, I didn’t recall much of that moment, but I did remember the phouka’s screech of horror and fury as she fled to tell the rest of the court. I heard her shrill voice echoing down the corridor, and knew I should probably move, but I was cold, numb to all feeling. I didn’t leave the prince’s side until Rowan swept in with a platoon of guards, who pounced on me with angry cries. Rough hands grabbed me by the arms and hair, dragging me away from Sage’s body, oblivious to my protests and cries of pain. I shouted at Rowan to tell him what had happened, but he wasn’t looking at me.

Behind him, Unseelie fey crowded into the room, and roars of fury and outrage filled the chamber when they saw the dead prince. Fey were screaming and crying, tearing at themselves and each other, demanding vengeance and blood. Dazed, I realized the Unseelie were outraged at the murder of a Winter prince in their own territory.

That someone had dared slip in and kill one of their own, right under their noses. There was no sorrow or remorse for the prince himself, only fury and demands for revenge at the audacity of it. I wondered if anyone would truly miss the eldest prince of Winter.

Rowan stood over Sage’s body, his expression eerily blank as he stared down at his brother. Amid the roars and cries of the fey around us, he regarded his sibling with the curiosity one might show a dead bird on the sidewalk. It made my skin crawl.

Silence fell over the room, and a chill descended like an icy blanket. I twisted in my captor’s grasp and saw Mab standing in the doorway, her gaze locked on Sage’s body. Everyone backed away as she entered the throne room. You could hear a pin drop as the queen walked up to Sage’s body, bending down to touch his cold, frozen cheek. I shivered, for the temperature was still dropping. Even some of the Winter fey looked uncomfortable as new icicles formed on the ceiling and frost crept over skin and fur. Mab was still bent over Sage, her expression unreadable, but her mulberry lips parted and mouthed a single word. “Oberon.”

Then she screamed, and the world shattered. Icicles exploded, flying outward like crystallized shrapnel, pelting everyone with glittering shards. The walls and floor cracked, and fey screeched as they disappeared into the gaping holes.

“Oberon!” Mab raged again, whirling around with a terrifying, crazy look in her eyes. “He did this! This is his revenge! Oh, Summer will pay! They will pay until they are screaming for mercy, but they will find no pity among the Winter Court! We will repay this heinous act in kind, my subjects! Prepare for war!”

“No!” My voice was drowned out in the roar that went up from the Unseelie fey. Twisting out of my captor’s grip, I staggered into the middle of the room.

“Queen Mab,” I gasped, as Mab swung the full brunt of her terrible gaze on me. Madness warred with the fury in her eyes, and I shrank back in terror. “Please, listen to me! Oberon didn’t do this! The Summer Court didn’t kill Sage, it was the Iron King. The Iron fey did this!”

“Be silent!” hissed the queen, baring her teeth. “I will not listen to your pathetic attempts to protect your wretched family, not when the Summer King threatened me in my own court. Your sire has murdered my son, and you will be silent, or I will forget myself and give him an eye for an eye!”

“But, it’s true!” I insisted, though my brain was screaming at me to shut up. I glanced around desperately and spotted Rowan, looking on with a faint smile. Ash would back me up, but Ash, as usual, wasn’t here when I needed him. “Rowan, please. Help me out. I’m not lying, you know I’m not.”

He regarded me with a solemn expression, and for a moment I really thought he would come through, before a corner of his mouth curled nastily. “It isn’t nice to deceive the queen, Princess,” he said, looking grim apart from the sneer in his eyes. “If these Iron fey were a threat, we would have seen them by now, don’t you think?”

“But they do exist!” I cried, on the verge of panic now. “I’ve seen them, and they are a threat!” I turned back to Mab. “What about the huge, fire-breathing iron horse that almost killed your son? You don’t think that’s a threat? Call Ash,” I said. “He was there when we fought Ironhorse and Machina. He’ll back me up.”

“Enough!” Mab screeched, whirling on me. “Half-breed, you go too far! Your line has already robbed me of a son, and you will not touch another! I know you seek to turn my youngest against me with your blasphemous claims of love, and I will not have it!“ She pointed a manicured nail at me, and a flare of blue-white shot between us as I stumbled back. “You will be silent, once and for all!”

Something gripped my feet, holding them fast. I looked down to see ice creeping up my legs, moving faster than I’d seen before. In the space of a blink, it had flowed up my waist and continued over my stomach and chest. Icy needles stabbed my skin as I wrapped my arms around myself, just before they were frozen to my chest. And still, the ice came on, creeping up my neck, burning my chin. Panic gripped me as it covered my lower jaw, and I screamed as ice flooded my mouth. Before I could suck in another breath, it covered my nose, my cheekbones, my eyes, and finally reached the top of my head. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. My lungs burned for air, but my mouth and nose were filled with ice. I was drowning, suffocating, and my skin felt like it was being peeled away by the cold. I wanted to pass out, I longed for darkness to take me, but though I couldn’t breathe and my lungs screamed for oxygen, I didn’t die.

Beyond the wall of ice, everything had fallen silent. Mab stood before me, her expression torn between triumph and hate. She turned back to her subjects, who watched her with wary eyes, as if she might lash out at them, too.

“Make ready, my subjects!” the queen rasped, raising her arms. “The war with Summer starts now!”

Another roar, and the minions of the Unseelie Court scattered, leaving the room with raucous battle cries. Mab spared me one more glance over her shoulder, her lips curling into a snarl before she walked out. Rowan stared at me a moment longer, snickered, and followed his queen from the room. Silence fell, and I was left alone, dying but unable to die.

When you can’t breathe, each second feels like an eternity. My entire existence shrank into trying to draw air into my lungs. Though my head knew it was impossible, my body couldn’t understand. I could feel my heart thudding laboriously against my ribs; I could feel the hideous chill of the ice, searing my skin. My body knew it was still alive and continued its fight to live.

I don’t know how long I stood there, hours or only a few minutes, when a shadowy figure slipped into the room. Though I could still see out, the ice made everything cracked and distorted, so I couldn’t tell who it was. The shadow hesitated in the doorway, watching me for a long moment. Then, quickly, it glided across the room until it stood next to my prison, laying a pale hand against the ice.

“Meghan,” a voice whispered. “It’s me.”

Even through my air-starved delirium, my heart leaped. Ash’s silvery eyes peered through the wall separating us, as bright and soulful as ever. The torment on his face shocked me, as if he were the one trapped and unable to breathe.

“Hang on,” he murmured, pressing his forehead to mine through the wall. “I’m getting you out of there.”

He leaned back, both hands against the ice, and closed his eyes. The air began to vibrate; a tremor shook the walls around me, and tiny cracks spider-webbed through the ice.

With the sound of breaking glass, the prison shattered, shards flying outward but somehow leaving me unscathed. My legs buckled and I fell, choking and coughing, vomiting up water and ice shards. Ash knelt beside me and I clung to him, gasping air into my starved lungs, feeling the world spin around me.

Somehow, through the dizzying rush of air, the relief at being able to breathe again, I noticed that Ash was holding me, too. His arms were locked around my shoulders, pressing me to his chest, his cheek resting against my wet hair. I heard his rapid heartbeat, pounding against my ear, and strangely, that calmed me down a little.

The moment ended too soon. Ash pulled away, dropping his black coat around my shoulders. I clutched at it gratefully, shivering. “Can you walk?” he whispered, and his voice was urgent. “We have to get out of here, now.”

“W-where are we g-going?” I asked, my teeth chattering. He didn’t answer, only pulled me to my feet, his gaze darting about warily. Grabbing my wrist, he started leading me from the room.

“Ash,” I panted, “wait!” He didn’t slow down. My nerves jangled a warning. With all my strength, I stopped dead in the middle of the floor and yanked my hand out of his grip. He whirled, eyes narrowing to slits, and I remembered all the things he’d said to Rowan, that everything he’d done was in service to his queen. I quickly backed out of his reach. “Where are you taking me?” I demanded.

He looked impatient, stabbing his fingers through his hair in an uncharacteristically nervous gesture. “Back to Seelie territory,” he snapped, reaching for me again. “You can’t be here now, not when a war is about to start. I’ll get you safely over to your side and then I’m done with this.”

It felt as if he’d slapped me. Fear and anger flared, making me stupid, making me want to hurt him all over again. “Why should I trust you?” I snarled, throwing the words at him like stones. I was completely aware that I was being an idiot, that we needed to get out of there before anyone saw us, but it was like I’d eaten spill-your-guts again, and words just kept pouring out. “You’ve misled me from the beginning. Everything you said, everything we did, that was all a ploy to bring me here. You set me up from the very start.”

“Meghan—”

“Shut up! I hate you!” I was on a roll now, and had the vindictive pleasure of seeing Ash flinch as if I’d struck him. “You’re a real piece of work, you know? Is this a game you like to play? Make the stupid human girl fall for you and then laugh as you rip her heart out? You knew what Rowan was doing, and you didn’t do anything to stop it!”

“Of course not!” Ash snarled back, his vehemence startling me into silence. “Do you know what Rowan would do if he found out … what we did? Do you know what Mab would do? I had to make them believe I didn’t care, or they would’ve torn you apart.” He sighed wearily, giving me a solemn look. “Emotions are a weakness here, Meghan. And the Winter Court preys on the weak. They would’ve hurt you to get to me. Now, come on.” He reached for me again, and I let him take my hand without protest. “Let’s get out of here before it’s too late.”

“I’m afraid it’s already too late,” drawled a snide, familiar voice, making my heart stop. Ash jerked to a halt, yanking me behind him, as Rowan stepped out of the hallway, grinning like a cat. “I’m afraid your time just ran out.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Brothers

“Hello, Ash.” The older prince smiled gleefully as he sauntered into the room. His gaze met mine, and he raised a sardonic eyebrow. “And what, may I ask, are you doing with the half-breed? Could it be you’re actually helping her escape? Oh dear, what a dreadfully treasonous idea you’ve come up with. I’m sure Mab will be quite disappointed in you.”

Ash said nothing, but his hand on mine clenched tight. Rowan chuckled, circling us like a hungry shark. Ash moved with him, keeping his body between me and Rowan. “So, little brother,” the older prince mused, adopting an inquisitive expression, “I’m curious. What made you risk everything for our wayward princess here?” Ash said nothing, and Rowan tsked. “Don’t be stubborn, little brother. You might as well tell me, before Mab tears you limb from limb and banishes you from Tir Na Nog. What is the price of such loyal obedience? A contract? A promise? What is the little harlot giving you to betray your entire court?”

“Nothing.” Ash’s voice was cold, but I caught the faintest tremor below the surface. Rowan apparently did as well, for his eyebrows shot up and he gaped at his brother, before throwing back his head with a wild laugh.

“I can’t believe it,” Rowan gasped, staring at Ash in disbelief. “You’re in love with the Summer whelp!” He paused and, when Ash didn’t deny it, collapsed into shrieking laughter again. “Oh, this is rich. This is too perfect. I thought the half-breed was a fool, pining for the unattainable Ice prince, but it seems I was wrong. Ash, you’ve been holding out on us.”

Ash trembled, but he didn’t release my hand. “I’m taking her back to Arcadia. Get out of our way, Rowan.”

Rowan sobered immediately. “Oh, I don’t think so, little brother.” He smiled, but it was a cruel thing, sharp as the edge of a blade. “When Mab finds out, you’ll both be decorating the courtyard. If she’s feeling merciful, maybe she’ll freeze you two together. That would be tragically fitting, don’t you think?”

I shuddered. The thought of returning to that cold, airless, living death was too much. I couldn’t do it; I’d rather die first. And the thought of Ash having to endure it with me for hundreds of years was even more horrifying. I squeezed Ash’s hand and pressed my face into his shoulder, glaring at Rowan for all I was worth.

“Of course,” Rowan went on, scratching the side of his face, “you could always beg forgiveness, drag the half breed to the queen, and still be in Mab’s favor. In fact,” he continued, snapping his fingers, “if you go to Mab right now and turn over the princess, I’ll even keep my mouth shut about what I saw here. She won’t hear a peep out of me, I swear.”

Ash went rock still; I could feel muscles coiling beneath his skin, the tension lining his back.

“Come on, little brother.” Rowan leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms. “You know it’s for the best. There are only two choices here. Hand over the princess, or die with her.”

Ash finally moved, as if coming out of a trance. “No,” he whispered, and I heard the pain in his voice as he came to some terrible decision. “There is one more.”

Releasing my hand, he took one deliberate step forward and drew his sword. Rowan’s eyebrows shot up as Ash pointed his blade at him, a cold mist writhing along its edge. For a moment, there was absolute silence.

“Get out of the way, Rowan,” Ash growled. “Move, or I’ll kill you.”

Rowan’s face changed. In one instant, it went from arrogant, condescending and evilly smug, to something completely alien and terrifying. He pushed himself from the archway, his eyes gleaming with predatory hunger, and slowly drew his sword. It sent a raspy shiver echoing across the hall as it came into view, the blade thin and serrated like the edge of a shark’s tooth.

“You sure about this, little brother?” Rowan crooned, flourishing his weapon as he stepped up to meet Ash. “Will you betray everything—your court, your queen, your own blood—for her? You can’t change your mind once you start down this path.”

“Meghan,” Ash said, his voice so soft I nearly lost it. “Get back. Don’t try to help me.”

“Ash …” I wanted to say something. I knew I should stop this, this fight between brothers, but at the same time I knew Rowan would never let us go. Ash knew it, too, and I could see the reluctance in his eyes as he steeled himself for battle. He didn’t want to fight his brother, but he would … for me.

They faced each other across the icy room, two statues each waiting for the other to make the first move. Ash had taken a battle stance, his sword out in front of him, his expression reluctant but unwavering. Rowan held his blade casually at his side, tip pointing toward the floor, smirking at his opponent. Neither of them seemed to breathe.

Then Rowan grinned, a predator baring his fangs. “All right, then,” he muttered, sweeping up his blade in a blindingly quick move. “I think I’m going to enjoy this.”

He lunged at Ash, his sword a jagged blur through the air. Ash brought his weapon up, and icy sparks flew as the blades screeched against each other. Snarling, Rowan cut viciously at his brother, advancing with a series of savage head strikes. Ash blocked, ducked, and suddenly lunged, stabbing at Rowan’s throat. But Rowan spun gracefully aside, his sword licking out and back again. Ash whirled with inhuman speed, and would’ve cut him in two if the older prince hadn’t leaped back.

Smiling, Rowan raised his weapon, and I gasped. The gleaming point was smeared with crimson. “First blood to me, little brother,” he taunted, as a trickle of red began to drip from Ash’s sword arm, speckling the floor. “There’s still time to stop this. Turn over the princess and beg for Mab’s mercy. And mine.”

“You have no mercy, Rowan,” Ash growled, and lunged at him again.

This time, they both moved so quickly, twisting, jumping, spinning aside and slashing with their blades, it was hard to see it as anything but a beautifully timed dance. In fast-forward. Sparks flew, and the sound of blades clashing echoed off the walls. Blood appeared on both swords, and red splattered the floor around the combatants, but I couldn’t see who had the advantage.

Rowan suddenly knocked Ash’s blade aside, then thrust out his hand, sending a jagged spear of ice at his brother’s face. Ash threw himself backward to avoid it, hitting the floor and rolling to his knees. As Rowan brought his sword down at his kneeling opponent and I screamed in fear, Ash ducked aside, letting the blade miss him by centimeters. Grabbing Rowan’s arm, letting his brother’s momentum carry him forward, Ash spun and threw him to the floor. Rowan’s head struck the ice, and I heard the breath leave his body in a startled whoof. Quick as a snake, Rowan flipped over, sword in hand, but by that time, Ash had his blade at his throat.

Rowan glared at his brother, his face twisted into a mask of pain and hate. Both were panting, dripping blood from numerous wounds, yet Ash’s grip was steady as he pressed the blade against Rowan’s neck.

The older prince chuckled, raised his head and spit blood in Ash’s face. “Go on then, little brother,” he challenged, as Ash winced but didn’t shy away. “Do it. You’ve betrayed your queen, sided with the enemy, drawn a sword against your own brother … you might as well add slaughtering your family to the list as well. Then you can run off with the half-breed and live out your sordid fantasy. I wonder how Ariella would feel, if she knew how easily she’s been replaced.”

“Don’t talk about her!” Ash snarled, raising the hilt as if he really would thrust the sword through Rowan’s throat. “Ariella is gone. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of her, but she’s gone, and there’s nothing I can do about it.” He took a deep breath to calm himself, the longing on his face plain to see. A lump caught in my throat, and I turned away, blinking back tears. No matter how much I loved this dark, beautiful prince, I could never match what he’d already lost.

Rowan sneered, narrowing his eyes. “Ariella was too good for you,” he hissed, raising himself up on his elbows. “You failed her. If you’d really loved her, she would still be here.”

Ash flinched, as if struck a physical blow, and Rowan pressed his advantage. “You never saw what a good thing you had,” he continued, sitting up as Ash backed away a step. “She’s dead because of you, because you couldn’t protect her! And now you disgrace her memory with this half-breed abomination.”

Pale, Ash glanced at me, and I saw Rowan’s arm move a second too late. “Ash!” I cried, as the older prince leaped up and lunged with frightening speed. “Look out!”

Ash was already moving, the honed reflexes of a fighter kicking in even when his mind was elsewhere. Leaping back, his sword came up as Rowan slashed at him with a dagger that appeared from nowhere, and Rowan’s lunge carried him right onto the point of Ash’s blade.

Both brothers froze, and I bit down a scream. For a moment, everything ground to an abrupt halt, frozen in time. Rowan blinked and looked down at the blade in his stomach, his eyes wide and confused. Ash was staring at his hand in horror.

Then Rowan staggered back, dropping the knife and leaning against a wall, his arms around his gut. Blood streamed between his hands, staining the white fabric crimson.

“Congratulations … little brother.” His voice came out choked, though his eyes were clear as he nodded at Ash, still frozen in shock. “You finally … managed to kill me.”