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

The trunk held several quilts, a few canteens, a quiver of arrows, and a bottle of dark wine I didn’t recognize and immediately left alone. Puck went hunting for firewood and came back with an armful, plus a branch bearing strange blue fruits he swore were safe to eat. Together, we cleared away flowers to make the campfire, though I felt a stab of guilt every time I yanked one up. They were quite beautiful, the petals so thin and delicate they were almost transparent.

“You’re awfully quiet, Princess,” Puck said as he arranged the firewood into a tepee. His slanted green eyes shot me a knowing look. “In fact, you haven’t said a word since his royal iciness left. What’s wrong?”

“Oh.” I cast about for an excuse. No way was I telling Puck about my feelings for Ash. He’d probably challenge him to a duel the moment he walked through the door. “I … um … I’m just weirded out, you know, with all those wiremen bodies around. It’s kinda creepy, like they might come to life and attack us while we’re sleeping.”

He rolled his eyes. “You and your zombie obsession. I’ve never understood your fascination with horror movies, especially when they freak you out so much.”

“They don’t freak me out,” I said, grateful for the change of subject.

“Riiiight, you just sleep with your light on to scare away roaches.”

His comment made me smile. Not because he was right, but because it reminded me of another time, a simpler time, when all I had to worry about was homework and school and keeping up with the latest movie trends. When Robbie Goodfell and I could sit on the couch with a huge tub of popcorn and watch a marathon of Friday the 13th movies until the sun came up.

I wondered how much I’d missed in the time I’d been gone.

When I didn’t answer, Puck snorted and shook his head. “Fine. Watch this.” And he made a quick gesture with his hand. The air shimmered, and the twisted corpses lying around the room turned into piles of branches. “Better?”

I nodded, though I knew it was only an illusion. The dead fey were still there, beneath the faery glamour. Out of sight, out of mind didn’t quite work for me, but at least it kept Puck from asking too many hard questions.

For a little while, anyway. “So, Princess,” he began, once a cheerful fire crackled in the center of the room. I didn’t know how he’d started it, but I’d learned not to question such things, in case it turned out to be an illusion and I only thought I was getting warm. “It seems I’ve missed a lot since I’ve been gone. Tell me everything.”

I gulped. “Everything?”

“Sure!” He sat down on a quilt, leaning back comfortably. “Like, did you find Machina? Did you ever get your brother back?”

“Oh.” I relaxed a bit and sat down beside him. “Yeah. Ethan is safe. He’s home, and that stupid changeling is gone for good.”

“What about Machina?”

I bit my lip. “He’s dead.”

Puck must’ve noticed the change in my voice, for he sat up and put his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. I leaned into him, feeling his warmth, taking comfort in his nearness. “I’m sick of this place,” I whispered, feeling like a little kid, as my eyes burned and the world went fuzzy. “I want to go home.”

Puck was silent for a moment, just holding me as I leaned against him, fighting back tears. “You know,” he said finally, “I don’t have to take you back to the Summer Court. If you want, I can take you back to your world. If you really want to go home.” “Would Oberon let me go?”

“I don’t see why not. Your magic has been sealed off. You’d be like an ordinary high school student again. Mab wouldn’t consider you a threat anymore, so the Unseelie would probably leave you alone.”

My heart leaped. Home. Could I really go home? Back to Mom and Luke and Ethan, back to school and summer jobs and a normal life? I missed that, more than I realized. I felt a bit guilty for ditching the plan to get the scepter back, but screw it. Ash didn’t want me around. My contract with him was over, and I’d paid my dues to the Unseelie Court. Our deal said nothing about me staying in Winter.

“What about you?” I asked, looking up at Puck. “Weren’t you ordered to bring me back to Summer? Won’t you get in trouble?”

“Oh, I’m in hot water already.” Puck grinned cheerfully. “I wasn’t even supposed to let you go after the Iron King, remember? Oberon will skin me alive for that one, so I really can’t dig myself any deeper.”

His tone was light, but I closed my eyes, guilt tearing at me. It seemed everyone I cared about was getting hurt, risking so much, just to protect me. I was tired of it; I wished I had my magic back, so that I could protect them in return.

“Why?” I whispered. “Why do you hang around? You and Ash could’ve died today.”

Puck’s heartbeat sped up under my fingers. His voice, when it came, was very soft, almost a whisper. “I would’ve thought you’d’ve figured that out by now.”

I looked up and found our faces inches apart. Twilight had deepened the room to shadow, though the carpet of flowers glowed brighter than ever. Firelight danced within Puck’s eyes as we stared at each other. Though he still wore a tiny, lopsided smile, there was no mistaking the emotion on his face.

I stopped breathing. A tiny part of me, somewhere deep inside, was rejoicing at this newest revelation, though I think, deep down, I’d always suspected. Puck loves me, it whispered, thrilled. He’s in love with me. I knew it. I knew it all along.

“You’re kind of blind, you know?” Puck whispered, smiling to soften his words. “I wouldn’t defy Oberon for just anyone. But, for you …” He leaned forward, touching his forehead to mine. “I’d come back from the dead for you.”

My heart pounded. That tiny part of me wanted this. Puck had always been there: safe, reliable, protective. He was part of my Court, so there was no stupid law to get in the way. Ash was gone; he had already made up his mind. Why not try with Puck?

Puck moved closer, his lips hovering an inch from mine. And all I could see was Ash, the passion on his face, the look in his eyes when he kissed me. Guilt gnawed my in-sides. No, my mind whispered, as Puck’s breath caressed my cheek. I can’t right now. I’m sorry, Puck.

I drew back slightly, ready to apologize, to tell him I couldn’t right now, when a shadow appeared in the doorway and Ash walked in.

He froze, silhouetted against the night sky, the flowers casting his features in a pale glow. His hair was slightly damp, and his clothes were mended, whether through glamour or something else I couldn’t tell. For a moment, shock and hurt lay open on his face, and his hands fisted at his side. Then, his expression closed, his eyes turning blank and stony.

Puck blinked at my expression and turned as Ash walked in. “Oh, hey, Prince,” he drawled, completely unconcerned. “I forgot you were here. Sorry ‘bout that.” I tried meeting Ash’s gaze, to show him this wasn’t what he thought, but he was studiously ignoring me.

“I want you gone by morning,” Ash said in cold, clipped tones, sweeping around the campfire. “I want you out of my territory, you and the princess both. According to the law, I could kill you where you stand for trespassing. If I see either of you in Tir Na Nog again, I won’t be so lenient.”

“Jeez, don’t get your panties in a twist, Your Highness.” Puck sniffed. “We’ll be happy to leave, right, Princess?”

I finally caught Ash’s gaze, and my heart sank. He stared at me coldly, no traces of warmth or friendliness on his face. “Yeah,” I whispered, my throat closing up. This was it, the last straw. I’d been in Faery long enough. It was time to go home.

Ash began moving the piles of branches, really the dead Iron fey, and dumping them outside. He worked quickly and silently, not looking at either of us, almost feverish in his desire to get them out. When the bodies were cleared away, he grabbed the bottle of wine from the trunk and retired to a far corner, brooding into the glass. His entire posture screamed leave me the hell alone, and even though I wanted to go to him, I kept my distance. Thankfully, Puck didn’t try to kiss me again, but he was never far, giving me secret little smiles, letting me know he was still interested. I didn’t know what to do. My mind was spinning, unable to settle on one thought. Later that evening, Ash stood abruptly and left, announcing he was going to “scout around” for more Iron fey. Watching him stalk out the door without a backward glance, I was torn between running after him and sobbing on Puck’s shoulder. Instead, I pleaded exhaustion and climbed into one of the cots, pulling the blanket over my head so I wouldn’t have to face either of them.

IT WAS HARD to sleep that night. Huddled beneath the quilts, I listened to the sound of Puck snoring and fought back tears.

I didn’t know why I was so miserable. Tomorrow, I was going home, at last. I could see Mom and Luke and Ethan again; I missed them all so much, even Luke. Though I had no idea how much time had passed in the real world, just the thought of returning home should’ve filled me with relief. Even if Mom and Luke were old and gray, and my four-year-old kid brother was older than I was, even if it had been a hundred years, and everyone I knew was.

I gasped and veered my thoughts from that path, refusing to think about it. Home would be the same as it always was. I could finally go back to school, learn to drive, maybe even go to prom this year. Maybe Puck can

take me. The thought was so ridiculous I almost laughed out loud, choking on unshed tears. No matter how much I wanted a normal life, there would be a part of me that longed for this world, for the magic and wonder of it. It had seeped into my soul and shown me things I’d never thought existed. I couldn’t be normal and ignorant ever again, knowing what was out there. Faery was a part of me now. As long as I lived, I would always be watching for hidden doors and figures from the corner of my eyes. And for a certain dark prince who could never be mine.

I must’ve fallen asleep, for the next thing I knew, I was opening my eyes and the room was bathed in hazy starlight. The flowers had opened completely and were glowing as if tiny moons nestled between the petals, throwing back the darkness. Ethereal moths and ghostly butterflies flitted over the carpet, delicate wings reflecting the light as they floated between blooms. Careful not to wake Puck, I rose and wandered into the flowers, breathing in the heady scent, marveling as a feathery blue moth landed on my thumb, weighing nothing at all. I breathed out, and it fluttered off toward a dark figure in the center of the carpet.

Ash stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by glowing white flowers, eyes closed as tiny lights swirled around him. They shimmered and drew together, merging into a luminescent faery with long silver hair, her features so lovely and perfect that my throat ached. Ash opened his eyes as she reached for him, her hands stopping just shy of his face. Longing shone from his eyes, and I shivered as the spectral faery moved right through him, dissolving into tiny lights.

“Is that … Ariella?” I whispered, walking up behind him.

Ash whirled around, his eyes widening at the sudden interruption. Seeing me, several emotions crossed his face— shock, anger, shame—before he sighed in resignation and turned away.

“No,” he murmured, as the ghostly faery appeared again, dancing among the flowers. “It isn’t. Not in the way you think.”

“Her ghost?”

He shook his head, his eyes never leaving the specter as she swayed and twirled over the glowing carpet, butterflies drifting around her. “Not even that. There is no afterlife for us. We have no souls with which to haunt the world. This is … just a memory.” He sighed, and his voice went very soft. “She was always happy here. The flowers … remember.”

I suddenly understood. This was Ash’s memory of Ariella, perfect, happy and full of life, a yearning so great it was given form, if only for a moment. Ariella wasn’t here. This was only a dream, an echo of a being long departed.

Tears filled my eyes and ran down my face. The gash on my cheek stung where they passed, but I didn’t care. All I could see was Ash’s pain, his loneliness, his yearning for someone who wasn’t me. It was tearing me apart, and I couldn’t say anything. Because I knew, somehow, that Ash was saying goodbye, to both of us.

We stood in silence for a while, watching Ariella’s memory dance among the flowers, her gossamer hair floating on the breeze as bright motes swirled around her.

I wondered if she really was that perfect, or if this was what Ash remembered her to be.

“I’m leaving,” Ash said quietly, as I knew he would. He finally turned to face me, solemn, beautiful, and as distant as the stars. “Have Goodfellow take you home. It isn’t safe here any longer.”

My throat felt tight; my eyes burned, and I took a shaky breath to free my voice. And even though I already knew the answer, even though my head was telling me to shut up, I whispered, “I won’t see you again, will I?”

He shook his head, once. “I wasn’t fair to you,” he murmured. “I knew the laws, better than anyone. I knew it would end … like this. I ignored my better judgment, and for that, I’m sorry.” His voice didn’t change. It was still calm and polite, but I felt an icy hand squeeze my heart as he continued. “But, after tonight, we’ll be enemies. Your father and my queen will be at war. If I see you again, I might kill you.” His eyes narrowed, and his voice turned cold. “For real this time, Meghan.”

He half turned, as if to leave. The glow of the flowers made a halo of light around him, only accenting his unearthly beauty. In the distance, Ariella danced and twirled, free from sorrow and pain and the trials of the living. “Go home, Princess,” murmured the Unseelie prince. “Go home, and forget. You don’t belong here.”

I couldn’t remember much of the night afterward, though I think it involved a lot of sobbing into my quilt. In the morning, I woke up to snow drifting in through the roof, coating the floor with heavy white powder. The flowers had faded, and Ash was already gone.

PART TWO

CHAPTER NINE

The Summoning

The evening following Ash’s departure, Puck and I hit the edge of the wyldwood.

“Not far now, Princess,” Puck said, giving me an encouraging grin. A few yards from where we stood, the snow and ice just … stopped. Beyond it, the wyldwood stretched before us, dark, tangled, trapped in perpetual twilight. “Just gotta cross the wyldwood to get you home. You’ll be back to your old boring life before you can say ‘summer school.’”

I tried smiling back, but couldn’t manage it. Even though my heart soared at the thought of home and family and even summer school, I felt I was leaving a part of me behind. Throughout our hike, I’d kept turning around, hoping to see Ash’s dark form striding through the snow after us, gruffly embarrassed and taciturn, but there. It didn’t happen. Tir Na Nog remained eerily empty and quiet as Puck and I continued our journey alone. And as the sun sank lower in the sky and the shadows lengthened around us, I slowly came to realize that Ash wasn’t coming back. He was truly gone.

I quivered on the verge of tears but held them back. I did not want to have to explain to Puck why I was crying. He already knew I was upset, and kept trying to distract me with jokes and a constant string of questions. What happened after we left him to confront Machina? How did we find the Iron Realm? What was it like? I answered as best I could, leaving out the parts between me and Ash, of course. Puck didn’t need yet another reason to hate the Winter prince, and hopefully he would never find out.

As we approached the colorless murk of the wyldwood, something moved in the shadows to our left. Puck spun with blinding speed, whipping out his dagger, as a spindly form stumbled through the trees and collapsed a few feet away. It was a girl, slender and graceful, with moss-green skin and hair like withered vines. A dryad.

The tree woman shuddered and gasped, clawing herself upright. One long-fingered hand clutched her throat as if she were being strangled. “Help … me,” she gasped at Puck, her brown eyes wide with terror. “My tree …”

“What’s happened to it?” Puck said, and caught her as she fell. She sagged against him, her head lolling back on her shoulders. “Hey,” he said, shaking her a little. “Stay with me now. Where’s your tree? Did someone cut it down?”

The dryad gasped for air. “P-poisoned,” she whispered, before her eyes rolled up and her body turned to wood in his arms. With the sound of snapping twigs, the dryad curled in on herself until she resembled little more than a bundle of dry branches. I watched the faery’s life fade away, remembered what Ash had said about the fey and death, and felt terribly, terribly sad. That was it for her, then. She’d simply ceased to exist.

Puck sighed, bowing his head, and gathered the lifeless dryad into his arms. She was thin and brittle now, fragile as spun glass, but not one twig snapped or broke off as he carried her away. With utmost care, he laid the body at the foot of a giant tree, murmured a few words and stepped back.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, huge roots unfurled from the ground, wrapping around the dryad to draw her down into the earth. In seconds, she had disappeared.

We stood quietly for a moment, unwilling to break the somber mood. “What did she mean by poisoned?” I finally murmured.

Puck shook himself, giving me a humorless grin. “Let’s find out.”

WE DIDN’T HAVE to search far. Only a few minutes into the wyldwood, the trees curled away, and we stumbled onto a familiar patch of dead ground in the middle of the forest. An entire swath of forest was sickened and dying, trees twisted into strange metal parodies. Metal lampposts grew out of the ground, bent over and flickering erratically. Wires crawled over roots and trunks, choking trees and vegetation like red and black creeper vines. The air smelled of copper and decay.

“It’s spreading,” Puck muttered, holding his sleeve to his face as the metallic breeze ruffled my hair and clothes. “This wasn’t here a few months ago.” He turned to me. “I thought you said you killed the Iron King.”

“I did. I mean, yes, he’s dead.” I gazed out over the poisoned forest, shuddering. “But that doesn’t mean the Iron Realm is gone. Tertius told me he served a new Iron King.”

Puck’s eyes narrowed. “Another one? You sort of failed to mention that before, Princess.” Shaking his head, he scanned the wasted area and sighed. “Another Iron King. Dammit, how many of them are we going to have to kill? Are they going to keep popping up like rats?”

I squirmed at the thought of yet another killing. A sharp wind hissed over the wasteland, scraping the branches of the metal trees, making me shiver. Puck coughed and staggered away.

“Well, come on, Princess. We can’t do anything about it now. Let’s get you home.”

Home. I thought about my family, about my normal life, so tantalizingly close. I thought of the Nevernever, dying and fading away bit by bit. And I made my decision.

“No.”

Puck blinked and looked back. “What?”

“I can’t go home yet, Puck.” I gazed around at the poisoned Nevernever, seeing echoes of Machina’s realm looming over everything. “Look at this. People are dying. I can’t close my eyes and pretend it isn’t happening.”

“Why not?” I blinked at him, stunned by his cavalier attitude. He just grinned. “You’ve done enough, Princess. I think you deserve to go home after everything you went through. Hell, you already took care of one Iron King. The Nevernever will be fine, trust me.”

“What about the scepter?” I persisted. “And the war? Oberon should know Mab is planning to attack him.”

Puck shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “I was already planning on telling him, Princess, provided he doesn’t turn me into a rat as soon as he sees me. As for the scepter, the Ice prince is already looking for it. Not a lot we can do, there.” At my protest, he waved a hand airily. “The war is going to start with or without us, Princess. It’s nothing new. Winter and Summer have always been at odds. Not a century goes by that there isn’t some kind of fighting going on. This will pass, like it always does. Somehow, the scepter will be returned, and things will go back to normal.”

I frowned, remembering something Mab had said to Oberon at the ceremony. “What about my world?” I demanded. “Mab said there would be a catastrophe if Summer held the scepter longer than it was supposed to. What will happen if the Iron King gets it? Things will get really screwed up, right?”

Puck scratched the back of his neck. “Erm … maybe.” “Maybe, like how?”

“Ever wanted to go sledding in the Mojave Desert?” I stared at him. “We can’t let that happen, Puck! What’s wrong with you? I can’t believe you’d think I’d just ignore this!” He shrugged, still infuriatingly nonchalant, and I went for the cheap shot. “You’re just afraid, aren’t you?

You’re scared of the Iron fey and you don’t want to get involved. I didn’t think you’d be such a coward.”

“I’m trying to keep you safe!” Puck exploded, whirling on me. His eyes glowed feverishly, and I shrank back. “This isn’t a game, Meghan! The shit is about to hit the fan, and you’re right in the middle of it without knowing enough to duck!”

Righteous indignation flared; I was sick of being told what to do, that I should be afraid. “I’m not helpless, Puck!” I shot back. “I’m not some squealing cheerleader you have to babysit. I’ve got blood on my hands now, too. I killed the Iron King, and I still have nightmares about it. I killed something! And I’d do it again, if I had to!”

“I know that,” Puck snapped, throwing up his hands. “I know you’d risk everything to protect us, and that’s what worries me. You still don’t know enough about this world to be properly terrified. Things are going to get screwed eight ways from Sunday, and you’re making goo-goo eyes at the enemy! I heard what happened in Machina’s realm and yes, it scared the hell out of me. I love you, dammit. I’m not going to watch you get torn apart when everything goes bad.”

My stomach twisted, both from his confession, and what he’d said about me and Ash. “You … you knew?” I stammered.

He gave me a scornful look. “I’ve been around a long time, Princess. Give me a little credit. Even a blind man would see the way you looked at him. I’m guessing something happened in Machina’s realm, but once you came out, our boy remembered he wasn’t supposed to fall in love with Summer.” I blushed, and Puck shook his head. “I didn’t say anything because he’d already made up his mind to leave. You might not know the consequences, Princess, but Ash does. He did the right thing, much as I hate to speak well of him.”

My lip trembled. Puck snorted, but saw me teetering on the brink of tears. His expression softened. “Forget about him, Meghan,” he said gently. “Ash is bad news. Even if the law wasn’t an issue, I’ve fought him enough times to know he would break your heart.”

The tears finally spilled over. “I can’t,” I whispered, giving in to the despair that had followed me all morning. This wasn’t fair to Puck, after he’d finally confessed that he loved me, but I couldn’t seem to stop. My soul cried out for Ash, for his courage and determination; for the way his eyes thawed when he looked at me, as if I were the only person in the world; for that beautiful, wounded spirit I saw beneath the cold exterior he showed the world. “I can’t forget. I miss him. I know he’s the enemy, and we broke all kinds of rules, but I don’t care. I miss him so much, Puck.”

Puck sighed, either in sympathy or aggravation, and pulled me close. I sobbed into his chest, releasing all the pent-up emotions that had been building since I first saw Ash in the throne room. Puck held me and stroked my hair like old times, saying nothing, until the tears finally slowed and I sniffled against his shirt.