The Iron Daughter

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN Choices

In my dream, he was kneeling in the dead grass beneath a great iron tree, head bent, dark hair hiding his face. Around us, a swirling gray fog blanketed everything beyond a few feet, but I could sense another presence here, a cold, hostile being, watching me with cruel intelligence. I tried to ignore it as I approached the figure beneath the tree. He was shirtless, his pale skin covered in tiny red wounds, like punctures, down his spine and across his shoulders.

I blinked. For a moment, I could see the glistening strings of wire sunk into his body, coiling up and vanishing into the fog. I quickened my pace, but with every step I took, the body under the tree moved farther away. I started to run, stumbling and panting, but the fog was drawing him back into its possessive embrace, claiming him for its own.

Desperately, I called to him. He raised his head, and the look on his face was beyond despair. It was utter defeat, hopelessness and pain. His lips moved wordlessly, then the fog coiled around him and he was lost.

I stood there shivering as the mist grew dark, and the other presence hovered at the edge of my consciousness. As the dream faded and I sank into oblivion, I could still see his final words, mouthed to me in desperation, and they chilled me like nothing else.

Kill me.

CONSCIOUSNESS RETURNED slowly. I clawed myself up from sleep, feeling dizzy and confused as the world came into focus. Thankfully, I recognized my surroundings almost immediately. Leanansidhe’s mansion: the foyer, if the huge fireplace was any indication. I lay on one of her comfortable sofas, dressed in slacks and a loose-collared shirt. Someone had taken off the slinky business suit, and of course I’d left my heels back in SciCorp.

“What happened?” I murmured, struggling to sit up. A blinding flare of pain stabbed up my arm and shoulder, and I gasped.

“Easy, Princess.” Suddenly Puck was there, pushing me back down. “You lost a nice amount of blood—it made you woozy. You passed out on our way here. Just sit still for a minute.”

I looked at the thick gauze wrapped around my arm and shoulder, a faint pink stain coming through the bandage. It hadn’t even hurt until now.

A knot tightened in my stomach as hazy memories pushed their way to the surface. My throat closed up, and I suddenly felt like crying. Pushing those feelings away, I took a shaky breath and focused on the present.

“Where’s Ironhorse?” I demanded. “And Grim? Did everyone get out okay?”

“I AM FINE, PRINCESS.” Ironhorse, back in his more human form, peered over the couch at me. “A LITTLE LESS THAN WHEN WE STARTED, BUT I WILL LIVE. MY ONLY REGRET IS THAT I COULD NOT PROTECT YOU FULLY.”

“Really?” The door opened and Leanansidhe entered the room, followed by Grim and two brownies bearing a tray with mugs. “I would have a few more regrets than that, darling. Meghan, dove, try to drink this. It should help.”

I struggled to sit up, gritting my teeth against the pain. Puck knelt beside the couch and eased me into a sitting position, then handed me the mug the brownies offered. The hot liquid smelled strongly of herbs, making my eyes water. I took a cautious sip, made a face, and swallowed it down.

“Kimi and Nelson?” I asked, forcing down more of the stuff. Gah, it was like drinking potpourri in hot water, but I could feel it working as it slid down my throat—a warm drowsiness stealing through my system. “Are they here, too?”

Leanansidhe swept around the couch, trailing smoke from her cigarette holder. “Haven’t checked in yet, darling, but I’m sure they’re fine. They’re smart kids.” With a flourish, she sat in the opposite chair and crossed her legs, watching me over her cigarette. “So, before that kicks in, dove, why don’t you tell me what happened in there? Grimalkin told me some of it, but he wasn’t there for the whole operation, and I can’t get a cohesive story from this pair—” she waved her cigarette at Ironhorse and Puck “—because they’re too busy worrying over you. Why couldn’t you get the scepter, darling? What happened in SciCorp?”

The memories flooded in, and the despair I’d been hiding from descended like a heavy blanket. “Ash,” I whispered, feeling tears prick my eyes. “It was Ash. She has him.”

“The prince?”

“Virus has him,” I continued in a daze. “She put one of her mind-control bugs inside him, and he attacked us. He tried…tried to kill us.”

“He’s the one guarding the scepter,” Puck added, collapsing in a chair. “Him and about two dozen nasty Thornguards, and a whole building of Virus’s little human drones.” He shook his head. “I’ve fought Ash before, but not like this. Whenever we dueled, there was always a small part of him, deep down, that wasn’t serious. I know his royal iciness, and I knew he really didn’t want to kill me, no matter how much he boasted otherwise. That’s why our little feud has lasted so long.” Puck snorted and crossed his arms, looking grave. “The thing I fought today wasn’t the frosty Ice prince we all know and love. There’s nothing there anymore. No anger, no hate, no fear. He’s more dangerous now than he ever was before, because he doesn’t care if he lives or dies.”

Silence fell. All I could hear was the faint sound of Grimalkin sharpening his claws on the sofa. I wanted to lie down and cry, but the herbs were kicking in, and my depression was giving way to a numbing exhaustion. “So,” Leanansidhe ventured at last, “what will you do now?”

I stirred, fighting the drowsiness. “We go back,” I murmured, looking at Puck and Ironhorse, hoping they would back me up. “We have to. We have to get the scepter and stop the war. There’s no other way around it.” Both nodded gravely, and I relaxed, grateful and relieved that they would follow me on this. “At least we know what we’re up against now,” I continued, grabbing for a faint ray of hope. “We might have a better chance the second time around.”

“And the Winter prince?” Leanansidhe asked softly. “What will you do with him?”

I glanced at her sharply, about to tell her that we would save Ash and I didn’t like what she was implying, but Puck beat me to it.

“We have to kill him.”

The world screeched to a halt. Slowly, I turned my head to stare at Puck, unable to believe what I just heard. “How could you?” I whispered. “He was your friend. You fought side by side. And now you want to cut him down like it was nothing!”

“You saw what he did.” Puck met my eyes, beseeching. “You saw what he is now. I don’t think I can fight him without holding back. If he attacks you again—”

“You don’t want to save him,” I accused, leaning forward. My arm throbbed, but I was too angry to care. “You don’t even want to try! You’re jealous, and you’ve always wanted him out of the way!”

“I never said that!”

“You don’t have to! I can see it on your face!”

“HE’S DYING, PRINCESS.”

Words froze in my throat. I stared at Ironhorse, silently pleading with him to be wrong. He gazed back with a sorrowful expression. “No.” I shook my head, fighting the persistent tears that stung my eyes. “I won’t believe that. There has to be a way to save him.”

“I AM SORRY, PRINCESS.” Ironhorse bowed his head. “I KNOW YOUR FEELINGS FOR THE WINTER PRINCE, AND I WISH I COULD GIVE YOU BETTER NEWS. BUT THERE IS NO WAY TO FORCEFULLY REMOVE THE BUGS ONCE THEY HAVE BEEN IMPLANTED. NOT WITHOUT KILLING THE HOST.” He sighed, and his tone softened, though the volume did not. “GOODFELLOW IS RIGHT. THE WINTER PRINCE IS FAR TOO DANGEROUS. IF HE ATTACKS AGAIN, WE CANNOT HOLD BACK.”

“What about Virus?” I pressed, unwilling to give up. “She’s the one controlling the bugs. If we take her out, maybe her hold on him will—”

“Even if that were the case,” Puck interrupted, “the bug would still be inside him. And with no way to get it out, he’ll either go mad, or be in so much torment that he would be better off dead. Ash is strong, Princess, but that thing inside him is killing him. You saw it, you heard what Virus said.” His brow furrowed, and his voice went very soft. “I don’t think he has much time left.”

The tears pressing behind my eyes finally spilled over, and I buried my face in the pillow, biting the fabric to keep from screaming. God, it wasn’t fair! What did they want from me? Hadn’t I given enough already? I’d sacrificed everything—family, home, a normal life—for the stupid greater good. I had worked so hard; I was trying to be brave and mature about everything, but now I had to watch while the thing I loved most was killed in front of me?

I couldn’t. Even if it was impossible, even if Ash killed me himself, I would still try to save him.

The room had grown very quiet. I peeked up and saw that everyone except Puck had left, slipping from the room to let me come to terms with myself, and the decision looming over my head, in peace.

Seeing me glance up, Puck tried catching my gaze. “Meghan…”

I turned away, pressing my face into the cushions. Anger and resentment boiled; Puck was the last person I wanted to see, much less talk to. Right now, I hated him. “Go away, Puck.”

He sighed and rose from the chair, coming to perch on the sofa next to me. “Well, you know that never works.”

The silence stretched between us. I sensed that Puck wanted to say something but couldn’t seem to find the right words. Which was odd; I’d never known him to hesitate about anything.

“I won’t let you kill him,” I finally muttered after a few minutes of quiet.

There was a lengthy pause before he answered. “Would you ask me to watch you die?” he murmured slowly. “Stand by while he puts a sword through your heart? Or, maybe you want me to die instead. You could just tell me to stand still while Ash chops off my head. Would that make you happy, Princess?”

“Don’t be stupid!” I bit my lip in frustration and sat up, wincing as the room spun for a moment. “I don’t want anyone to die. But I can’t lose him, Puck.” My anger abruptly drained away, leaving only a hollow despair. “I can’t lose you, either.”

Puck put his arms around me and pulled me close, gently so as to not jolt my wounded arm. I laid my head on his chest and closed my eyes, wishing I were normal, that I didn’t have to make these impossible decisions, that everything would be all right again. If wishes were horses…

“What do want me to do, Princess?” Puck whispered into my hair.

“If there’s any way we can save him…”

He nodded. “I’ll try very hard not to kill his royal iciness if we meet again. Believe it or not, Princess, I don’t want Ash dead, any more than you do.” He sniffed. “Well, maybe a little more than you. But…” And he pulled back to look me in the eye. “If he puts you in danger, I won’t hold back. That’s my promise. I won’t risk losing you, either, understand?”

“Yeah,” I whispered, closing my eyes. That was all I could ask. I’ll save you, I thought, as drowsiness stole over me and my mind drifted. No matter what, I’ll find a way to bring you back. I promise.

I was nearly asleep, surrendering to the exhaustion stealing all my coherent thoughts, when a slamming door jerked me awake and Puck’s arms tightened around me.

“Meghan Chase.” Kimi’s voice cut across the room, clipped, flat and mechanical. I looked up and my stomach dropped away.

Kimi and Nelson stood beside the door like soldiers at attention, a posture so strange for both of them that I didn’t recognize them at first. As one, their heads turned, and they gave me an empty stare. The same look Ash had turned on me back in SciCorp.

“Oh, no,” I whispered. Puck went stiff with shock.

“Our Mistress has a message for you, Meghan Chase.” Kimi took a short step forward, moving like a robot. “‘Congratulations for breaking into SciCorp and, more impressive, breaking out again. You have my admiration. Unfortunately, I cannot have you running amok, making plans to return for the scepter, as I know you will. I’ll be moving it tonight to a safer location. If you come back to SciCorp, I’m afraid you’ll find it quite empty. Oh, and by the way, I’m also sending Ash to kill your family. They’re in Louisiana, right?’”

I sucked in a breath, and the blood drained from my face. Kimi’s expression didn’t change, but her voice turned mocking. “‘So you have a choice now, my dear. Come back for the scepter, or run home and try to stop Ash. You’d better hurry. He’s probably halfway to the bayou by now.

“‘One more thing!’” she added as I leaped to my feet, drowsiness forgotten. Heart pounding, I glared at her. Robot Kimi gave me an empty smile. “‘I want you to remember, this is not a game, Meghan Chase. If you think you can waltz into my lair and try to take what is mine without repercussions, you’d best think again. People will get hurt because of you.’” Kimi stepped forward and narrowed her eyes. “‘Do not screw with me, child. Let this be a little reminder of what can happen when you play with the big girls.’”

Kimi spasmed, spine arching back, mouth open in a silent scream as she twitched and thrashed. A moment later, Nelson did the same, limbs jerking wildly, before they both collapsed to the floor.

Puck was beside Kimi instantly, rolling her over. The little half-phouka’s eyes were open, gazing sightlessly at the ceiling, and she didn’t move a muscle. I bit my lip, my heart pounding. “Are they…dead?”

He paused a moment before rising to his feet. “No. At least, I don’t think so. They’re still breathing, but…” He frowned, squinting at Kimi’s slack expression. “I think their brains have short-circuited. Or the bugs are keeping them in some sort of coma.” He shook his head, looking up at me. “Sorry, Princess. I can’t do anything for them.”

“Of course you can’t, darling.” Leanansidhe breezed through the doorway, her face a porcelain mask, eyes glowing green. “Fortunately, I know a mortal doctor who might be able to help. If he cannot revive the streetrats, then there is no hope for them.” She turned to me, and I tried not to cringe under that unearthly gaze. “You are leaving, I presume?”

I nodded. “Ash is out there,” I said. “He’s going after my family. I have to stop him.” I narrowed my eyes, staring her down. “Don’t try to keep me here.”

She sighed. “I could, darling, but then you would be a complete mess and of no use to us. If there is one thing I’ve learned about humans, it’s that they become absolutely unreasonable when it comes to family.” She sniffed and waved her hand. “So go, darling. Rescue your mother and father and brother and get it over with. My door will still be open when you come back. If we’re still alive, that is.”

“PRINCESS!” Ironhorse bashed the door open, skidding to a halt in the middle of the room, breathing hard. “ARE YOU HURT? WHAT HAS HAPPENED?”

I gazed around for my sneakers, wincing as a bright talon of pain clawed up my arm. “Virus sent Ash to kill my family,” I said, dropping to my knees to peer under the couch. “I’m going to stop him.”

“WHAT ABOUT THE SCEPTER?” he continued, as I pulled out my sneakers and stuffed my feet into them, gritting my teeth as my arm throbbed with every movement. “WE MUST RETRIEVE IT BEFORE VIRUS HAS IT MOVED. SHE IS VULNURABLE NOW AND WILL NOT BE EXPECTING US. NOW IS THE TIME TO ATTACK.”

“No.” I felt pulled in several directions at once, and tried to stay calm. “I’m sorry, Ironhorse. I know we have to get the scepter, but my family comes first. Always. I don’t expect you to understand.”

“VERY WELL,” Ironhorse said, surprising me. “THEN I WILL COME WITH YOU.”

Startled, I looked up at him, but before I could reply, Grimalkin interrupted me.

“A quaint idea,” the cat mused, leaping onto the table, “and exactly what Virus is hoping for. We must have scared her quite a bit for her to react so dramatically. If we abandon the mission now, we might never find her again.”

“He’s right.” I nodded, ignoring Ironhorse’s scowl. “We have to split up. Ironhorse, you stay here with Grim. Keep looking for the scepter and Virus. Puck and I will go after Ash. We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

“I DO NOT LIKE LEAVING YOU ALONE, PRINCESS.” Ironhorse raised his head in a proud, stubborn manner. “I SWORE I WOULD PROTECT YOU.”

“While we were looking for the scepter, you did. But this is different.” I stood up and met his burning red eyes. “This is personal, Ironhorse. And your mission has always been the scepter. I want you to stay behind with Grim. Keep looking for Virus.” He opened his mouth to argue, and I spit out the last words. “That’s an order.”

He blew smoke from his nostrils like a furious bull and turned away. “AS YOU WISH, PRINCESS.”

His voice was stiff, but there was no time to dwell on feelings of guilt. I turned to Puck. “We have to get to Louisiana fast. How do we get out of here?”

He glanced at Leanansidhe. “Don’t suppose you have any trods to Louisiana from here, do you, Lea?”

“There’s one to New Orleans,” Leanansidhe replied, looking thoughtful. “I just adore Mardi Gras, darling, though Mab tends to hog the spotlight every year. Typical of her.”

“That’s too far away.” I took a deep breath, feeling time slip away from me. “Isn’t there a trod that’s closer? I need to get home now.”

“The Briars.” Puck snapped his fingers. “We can go through the Briars. That will take us there quickly.”

Leanansidhe blinked. “What makes you think there is a trod to the girl’s house through the Briars, dove?”

Puck snorted. “Lea, I know you. You can’t stand to be out of the loop, remember? You must have a trod that goes to Meghan’s house from the Briars, even though you can’t use it. I know you’d want keep an eye on Oberon’s daughter. What kind of gossip would you miss out on, otherwise?”

Leanansidhe pursed her lips as if she’d swallowed something sour. “You caught me there, darling. Though you don’t hesitate to rub salt in the wound, do you? I suppose I can let you use that trod, but you owe me a favor later, darling.” Leanansidhe sniffed and puffed her cigarette. “I feel I should charge something for letting you in on my greatest secret. Especially since I have no interest in the girl’s family. Such a boring lot, except the little boy—he has potential.”

“Done,” I said. “You have your favor. At least from me. Now, will you let us use it or not?”

Leanansidhe snapped her fingers, and Skrae the piskie fluttered down from the ceiling. “Take them to the basement trod,” she ordered, “and guide them to the right door. Go.” Skrae bobbed once and zipped to my shoulder, hiding in my hair. “I will continue to have my spies monitor SciCorp,” Leanansidhe said. “See if they can discern where Virus is moving it to. You should get going, darling.”

I straightened and glanced at Puck, who nodded. “All right, let’s go. Grim, keep an eye on Ironhorse, would you? Make sure he doesn’t go charging the army by himself. We’ll be back soon.” I shook my hair, dislodging the piskie huddled against my neck. “All right, Skrae, take us out of here.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Close to Ice

Our trip back through the Briars was less exciting than our trip in. We saw no dragons, spiders or killer-wasp fey, though truthfully I could’ve wandered straight into their hive without noticing. My mind was consumed with Ash and my family. Would he really…kill them? Cut them down in cold blood, invisible and unheard? What would I do then?

I pressed a palm to my face, trying in vain to stop the tears. I would kill him. If he hurt Ethan or Mom in any way, I would put a knife through his heart myself, even if I was sobbing my eyes out while I did it. Even if I still loved him more than life itself.

Sick with worry, fighting the despair that threatened to drown me, I didn’t see Puck stop until I ran into him, and he steadied me without a word. We had reached the end of the tunnel, where a simple wooden door waited in the thorns a few feet away. Even in the tangled darkness of the Briars, I recognized it. This was the gate that had led me into Faery, all those months ago. This was where it all began, at Ethan’s closet door.

Ahead of us, Skrae gave a last buzz and flew back down the tunnel, back to Leanansidhe to give his report, I assumed. There was no going back for me. I reached for the door handle.

“Wait,” Puck ordered. I turned back, impatient and annoyed, when I saw the grim severity in his eyes. “Are you ready for this, Princess?” he asked softly. “Whatever lies beyond that door isn’t Ash any longer. If we’re going to save your family, we can’t hold back now. We might have to—”

“I know,” I interrupted, not wanting to hear it. My chest tightened, and my eyes started to tear, but I dashed them away. “I know. Let’s…let’s just do this, all right? I’ll figure something out when I see him.” And before Puck could say anything else, I wrenched the door open and walked through.

The cold hit me immediately, taking my breath away. It hung in the air as I shivered, gazing around in horror, my stomach twisting so painfully that I felt nauseous. Ethan’s bedroom was completely encased in ice. The walls, the dresser, the bookshelf; all covered in a layer of crystal nearly two inches thick, but so clear so I could see everything trapped within. Outside the window, a cold, clear night shone through the glass, the moonlight sparkling lifelessly off the ice.

“Oh, man,” I heard Puck whisper behind me.

“Where’s Ethan?” I gasped, rushing to his bed. The horrific vision of him trapped in ice, unable to breathe, made me virtually ill, and I nearly threw up at the thought. But Ethan’s bed was empty, the quilts flat and still beneath the frozen layer.

“Where is he?” I whispered, near panic. Then I heard a faint noise from beneath the bed, a soft, breathy whimper. Dropping to my knees, I peered into the crack, wary of monsters and bogeys and the things that lurked under the bed. A small, shivering lump stirred in the far corner, and a pale face looked up at mine.

“Meggie?”

“Ethan!” Relieved beyond words, I reached under the bed and pulled him out, hugging him close. He was so cold; he clung to me with frozen hands, his four-year-old body shaking like a leaf.

“You c-came back,” he whispered, as Puck crossed the room and shut the door without a sound. “Quick! You have to s-save Mommy and Daddy.”

My blood ran cold. “What happened?” I asked, holding him with one arm while pulling open the door we came through. Now it was just a normal closet. I yanked out a quilt that wasn’t covered in ice and wrapped Ethan in it, sitting him on the frozen bed.

“He came,” Ethan whispered, pulling the folds tighter around himself. “The dark person. S-Spider told me he was coming. He told me t-to hide.”

“Spider? Who’s Spider?”

“The m-man under the b-bed.”

“I see.” I frowned and rubbed his numb fingers between mine. Why would a bogey be helping Ethan? “What happened then?”

“I hid, and everything turned to ice.” Ethan gripped my hand, big blue eyes beseeching mine. “Meggie, Mommy and Daddy are still out there, with him! You have to save them. Make him go away!”

“We will,” I promised. My heart started an irregular thud in my chest. “We’ll make this right, Ethan, I promise.”

“He should stay here,” Puck murmured, peering through a crack in the door. “Man, it looks like the whole house is iced over. Ash is here, all right.”

I nodded. I hated to leave Ethan, but there was no way I wanted my brother to see what came next. “You wait here,” I told him, smoothing down his curly hair. “Stay in your room until I come get you. Close the door and don’t come out, no matter what, okay?”

He sniffled and huddled deeper into the quilt. With my heart in my throat, I turned to Puck. “All right,” I whispered. “Let’s find Ash.”

We crept down the stairs, Puck in front, me clinging to the railing because the stairs were slick and treacherous. The house was eerily silent, an unfamiliar palace of sparkling crystal, the cold so sharp that it cut into my lungs and burned my fingers as they gripped the railing.

We reached the living room, cloaked in shadow except for the light that came from the open door and the flickering static of the television. Silhouetted against the screen, Mom’s and Luke’s heads were visible over the top of the couch. Leaning together, as if asleep, they were frozen solid, encased in ice like everything else. My heart stood still.

“Mom!”

I rushed forward, but Puck grabbed my arm, holding me back. Snarling, I turned on him, trying to shake him off, until I saw his face. His eyes were hard, his jaw set as he pulled me behind him, a dagger appearing in his hand.

Trembling, I looked into the living room again just as Ash melted out of the shadows on the far wall, drawing his sword as he did. In the harsh blue light, he looked awful, his skin split open along his cheekbones and his eyes sunk into his face. There were new wounds over his arms and hands, where the skin had blackened along the openings, looking burned and dead. His silver eyes were bright with pain and madness as he stared at us, every inch a killer, but I couldn’t be afraid of him. There was only grief now, a horrible, soul-wrenching pain knowing that, no matter what happened, I had to let him die. If I wanted to save my family, Puck would have to kill Ash. Tonight. Right here in my living room. I forced down a sob and stepped forward, ignoring Puck as he grabbed for me, my eyes only for the dark prince standing across the room.

“Ash,” I whispered as his eyes flicked to my face, following my every move. “Can you hear me at all? Please, give us something. Otherwise, Puck is going to…” I swallowed hard, as he continued to regard me blankly. “Ash, I can’t let you hurt my family. But…I don’t want to lose you, either.” The tears spilled over, and I faced him desperately. “Please, tell me you can fight this. Please—”

“Kill me.”

I sucked in a breath, staring at him. He stood rock still, the muscles working in his jaw, as if he was struggling to speak. “I…can’t fight this,” he gritted out, closing his eyes in concentration. His arms shook, and his grip on the sword tightened. “You have to…kill me, Meghan. I…can’t stop myself…”

“Ash—”

His eyes opened, glazed over once more. “Get away from me, now!”

Puck shoved me away as Ash leaped across the room, his sword coming down in a sapphire blur. I hit the floor, wincing as the ice scraped my palms and bruised my knees. With my back against the wall, I watched Puck and Ash battle in the middle of the living room, feeling dead inside and out. I couldn’t save him. Ash was lost to me now, and worse, one of them was going to die. If Puck won, Ash would be killed. But if Ash emerged victorious, I would lose everything, including my own life. I guess I should’ve been rooting for Puck, but the cold despair in my heart kept me from feeling anything.

As Ash whirled away from a vicious upward slash, something glittered beneath his hair at the base of his skull. Scrambling to my feet, I narrowed my eyes and my senses, staring at it intently. A tiny spark of cold, iron glamour glimmered at the top of Ash’s spine and I gasped. That was it! The bug, the thing that was controlling him and, ultimately, killing him.

As if it could sense my thoughts, Ash whirled, his eyes narrowing in my direction. As Puck’s knife came down at his back, he spun, knocking it aside, and stabbed forward with his weapon. Puck twisted desperately, but it wasn’t enough, and the icy blade plunged deep into his shoulder. I cried out, and Puck stumbled back, dark blood blossoming over his shirt, his face tight with pain.

Ash lunged at me, and I tensed, my heart hammering in my chest. All those times watching him fight gave me an inkling of what was coming. As the sword came slashing down at my head, I dove forward, hearing the savage chink of the blade against the ice. Rolling away, I glanced back, saw the sword coming and threw myself aside, barely avoiding the second swing that bit into the floor, pelting me with ice shards. I hit the wall and turned back to see Ash standing over me, weapon raised high. There was nowhere to go. I looked into his face, saw his jaw tighten and his arm tremble as he met my gaze. For a split second, the sword wavered, and he closed his eyes…

Just as Puck rose up from nowhere with a snarl and slammed the dagger into his chest.

Time stood still. A scream lodged in my throat as Puck and Ash stared at each other, Puck’s shoulders heaving with breaths or sobs, I couldn’t tell. For a moment, they stood there, locked in a morbid embrace, until Puck let out a strangled noise and wrenched himself away, yanking out the dagger in a spray of crimson. The sword fell from Ash’s hand, hitting the ground with a ringing clang that echoed through the house.

Ash staggered back, managing to stay on his feet for a moment, arms curled around his stomach. He swayed, putting his back to the wall, as dark blood began to drip to the ice, pooling beneath him. As I finally found my voice and screamed his name, Ash raised his head and gave me a weary smile. Then those silver eyes dimmed, like the sun vanishing behind a cloud, and he crumpled to the ground.

CHAPTER NINETEEN Sickness

“Ash!”

I rushed forward, shoving Puck out of the way. Puck stumbled aside, moving like a sleepwalker. The bloody dagger dropped limply from his hand. Ignoring him, I lunged toward Ash.

“Stay back!”

His voice brought me up short, sharp and desperate. Ash struggled to his knees, arms around his stomach, shaking with agonized gasps. Blood pooled around him as he raised his head, eyes bright with anguish. “Stay back, Meghan,” he gritted out, a line of red trickling from his mouth. “I could…still kill you. Let me be.” He grimaced, closing his eyes, one hand clutching at his skull. “I can still…feel it,” he rasped, shuddering. “It’s in…shock now, but…it’s getting strong again.” He gasped, clenching his teeth in pain. “Dammit, Goodfellow. You could’ve…made it clean. Hurry and get it over with.”

“No!” I cried, flinging myself down beside him. He flinched away from me, and I caught his shoulder.

It was like touching an electric fence, without the shock. I felt a rush of sharp, metallic glamour coming from Ash, buzzing in my ears and vibrating my senses. I felt something inside me respond, like a current beneath my skin, rushing up to my fingertips, and suddenly everything was much clearer. If glamour was raw emotion and passion, this was the absence of it: logical, calculating, impassive. I felt all my fear, panic and desperation drain away, and I looked at Ash with a new curiosity. This was a problem, but how was I going to fix it? How would I solve this equation?

“Meghan, run.” Ash’s voice was strangled, and that was all the warning I had before his eyes went glassy and his hands fastened around my throat, cutting off my air. I gasped and clawed at his fingers, staring into his blank eyes as a sharp, droning voice echoed through my head.

Kill you.

I gasped airlessly, fighting to stay calm, to stay connected to that cold, impassive glamour buzzing under my skin. As I stared into his eyes, I could see the bug, its hateful glare peering back at me. I could see its round, ticklike body, clamped to the top of Ash’s spine, the metal parasite that was killing him. I could hear it, and I knew it could hear me, too.

“Meghan!” Puck snatched the ice sword from where it lay, forgotten, and raised it over his head.

“Puck, don’t.” My voice came out raspy, but calm. I fought for air and felt Ash’s grip loosen the tiniest bit. He closed his eyes, breaking my connection with the bug, but I could still feel the iron glamour, buzzing all around me. He was fighting its commands, his face tight with concentration, sweat running down his skin.

“Do it,” he rasped, and I realized he spoke to Puck, not me.

“No!” I met Puck’s conflicted gaze, saw the sword waver as he swept it toward Ash. “Puck, don’t! Trust me!”

My vision was getting fuzzy. I didn’t have much time. Praying Puck would hesitate a little longer, I turned back to Ash, laying my palm against his cheek. “Ash,” I said, hoping my mangled voice would get through to him, “look at me, please.”

He didn’t respond at first, his fingers shaking as he fought the compulsion to crush my throat. When he did look up, the raw anguish, horror and torment on his face was agonizing. But, beyond his pain-filled eyes, I could see the parasite as it tightened its hold on him. My will rose up to meet it, iron glamour swirling around us. I shaped that glamour into a command, and sent it lancing into the metal bug.

Let go, I told it, putting as much force into the words as I could.

It buzzed furiously and clamped down hard, and Ash cried out in agony. His fingers on my throat tightened, crushing my windpipe and turning my world red with pain. I sagged, fighting to stay conscious, seeing darkness crawling along the edge of my vision. No! I told it. I will not lose to you. I will not give him up! Let go!

The bug hissed again…and loosened its hold, still fighting me all the way. I put my shaking hand against Ash’s chest, over his heart, feeling it crash against his ribs. Ash’s grip tightened once more, and the world started to go black. Get out, I snarled with the last of my strength. Get out of him, now!

A crackle and a flash of light, and Ash convulsed, shoving me away. I fell against the cold floor, striking my head against the ice, blackness momentarily blinding me. Fighting for consciousness, I saw a glint of light, of something tiny and metallic, fly up toward the ceiling, and Ash staring at his hands in horror. The metal spark hovered in the air a moment, than zipped toward me with a furious buzz.

Puck’s hand shot out, snatching the bug from the air, hurling it to the floor. For a split second, it lay there glinting coldly against the ice. Then his boot smashed down and ground the bug into oblivion.

I struggled upright, breathing hard, waiting for the room to stop spinning. Puck knelt in front of me, one shoulder covered in blood, his whole body tense with concern.

“Meghan.” One of his hands smoothed my cheek, rough and urgent. “Talk to me. Are you all right?”

I nodded. “I think so.” My voice came out harsh and raspy, and my throat burned like I’d been gargling with razor blades. Something cold and wet dripped onto my knee. I glanced up and saw that the ceiling was beginning to crack and melt. “Where’s Ash?”

Puck moved aside, looking grave. Ash was slumped against the wall in the corner, head down, one hand covering his still bleeding ribs. His eyes were open, staring at the floor, at nothing. Heart in my throat, I gingerly approached and knelt beside him, saw him shift, very slightly, away from me.

“Ash.” My worry for him, for Ethan, for my family, was a painful knot in my stomach. I longed to help him, but the image of my mom and Luke, frozen on the couch, filled me with dread and fear. If Ash had hurt them, if they were…I could never forgive him. “My mom,” I asked, staring into his face. “My stepdad. Did…did you…?”

He gave his head a small shake, a tiny movement in the shadows. “No,” he whispered without looking at me, his voice flat and dead. “They’re just…asleep. When the ice melts, they should be fine, with no memory of what happened.”

Relief bloomed through me, although short-lived. I reached out to touch his arm, and he flinched as if my touch was poison.

“What will you do with me now?” he whispered.

Puck’s shadow fell over us. I looked back and saw him holding Ash’s sword, a grim, frightening look on his face. For a second, I was afraid Puck would stab him right there, but he tossed the blade at Ash’s feet and turned away. “Think you can walk, Prince?”

Ash nodded without looking up. Puck pulled me reluctantly to my feet and drew me aside. “I’ll deal with Ash, Princess,” he murmured, holding up a hand to interrupt my protest. “Why don’t you check on your brother before we go?”

“Go? Where?”

“I’d say Ash needs a healer, Princess.” Puck glanced back at the prince and made a face. “I know I would, if I’d had a metal bug stuck inside my head. Probably screwed him up pretty bad. Luckily, I know a healer not far from here, but we should go now.”

I looked back at Mom and Luke, at the water slowly dripping from their frozen silhouettes, and yearning twisted my stomach. I missed them, and who knew when I’d see them again. “We can’t stay, just a little while?”

“What would you tell them, Princess?” Puck gave me a look that was sympathetic and exasperated at the same time. “The truth? That a faery prince froze the inside of the house in order to draw you here and kill you?” He shook his head, making sense even as I hated him and his logic at that point. “Besides, we need to get his royal iciness to a healer, and soon. Trust me, it’s better if your folks never knew you were here.”

I gave my parents one last look and nodded slowly. “Right,” I sighed. “I was never here. Let me say goodbye to Ethan, at least.”

Feeling old inside and out, I retreated up the steps, pausing once to look back. Puck was crouched in front of the Unseelie prince, his lips moving soundlessly, but Ash was looking straight at me, his eyes glimmering slits in the gloom. Biting my lips, I continued on to Ethan’s bedroom.

I found him in the hallway, peering out between the railings, the blanket still draped over his shoulders. “Ethan!” I hissed, and he glanced up with big blue eyes. “What are you doing out here? I told you to stay in your room.”

“Where’s Mommy and Daddy?” he asked as I picked him up, carrying him back to his room. “Did you tell the bad person to go away?”

“They’ll be all right,” I told him with my own sense of relief. “Ash didn’t hurt them, and as soon as the ice melts, they’ll be back to normal.” Though they would probably wonder why the whole house was wet. The ice was melting rapidly; I stepped around several puddles as I crossed the hall into his room.

Ethan nodded, gazing at me solemnly as I set him on his bed. “You’re going away again, aren’t you?” he asked matter-of-factly, though his lip trembled and he sniffled, trying to hold back tears. “You didn’t come back to stay with me.”

I sighed, sitting beside him on the frozen bed. “Not yet,” I murmured, smoothing down his hair. “I wish I could. I really do, but…” Ethan sniffled, and I pulled him close. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “There are still some things I have to take care of.”

“No!” Ethan clung to me, burying his face in my side. “You can’t leave again. They won’t take you again. I won’t let them.”

“Ethan—”

“Princesss.” From the darkness under the bed, something latched on to my ankle, claws digging into my skin. I yelped, swinging my feet up onto the mattress, and Ethan gave a startled cry.

“Dammit, bogey!” My sore throat blazed with pain at the outburst, making me even angrier. I leaped off the bed and stalked to Ethan’s dresser, grabbing the flashlight still kept on top. Bogeys hated light, and the white beam of a flashlight could make them flee in terror. “I am so not in the mood for this,” I rasped, flicking on the beam. “You have three seconds to get out of here before I make you leave.”

“Meggie.” Ethan hopped off the bed and padded up, taking my hand. “It’s okay. It’s only Spider. He’s my friend.”

I looked at him, aghast. Since when did bogeys make friends with the kids they terrorized? I didn’t believe it, but a soft slithering sound came from under the bed, and two yellow eyes peered up at me.

“Fear not, Princesss,” it whispered, keeping a wary eye on the flashlight in my hand. “I am here under ordersss. Prince Asssh told usss to watch thisss houssse. It isss under the protection of the Unssseelie Court.”

“Ash ordered this? When?”

“Before he came to collect your bargain, Princesss. Before you went back with him to Tir Na Nog.” The thing slithered to the edge of the crack, staying just out of the light. “The child isss in no danger,” it rasped, “and neither are hisss parentsss, though they do not know we are here. Protect thisss houssse and work no missschief on thossse who live here, those are our ordersss.”

“He tells me stories every night,” Ethan said, looking up at me. “Most of them are pretty scary, but I don’t mind. And sometimes there’s a black pony in the front yard, and little man in the basement. Mommy and Daddy don’t see them, either.”

I closed my eyes. The thought of so many Unseelie fey hanging around my house did nothing to ease my nervousness, even if they were claiming to protect my family. “How did you know about Ash?” I finally asked.

“I sssmelled an Iron fey coming, and knew I mussst protect the boy, at leassst,” Spider went on, oblivious to my conflicted feelings. “I pulled him under the bed, where I could hide him better. Imagine my sssurprissse when I dissscovered it wasss Prince Asssh himssself, attacking thisss houssse. He mussst have been posssesssed, or perhapsss it wasss an Iron fey disssguisssed asss the prince. But, I followed my ordersss, and kept the boy sssafe.”

“Well, I’m grateful for that,” I muttered. And then a thought occurred to me, one that I almost didn’t ask about, but couldn’t leave alone. “Have…have my parents…mentioned me? Do they talk about me at all, or wonder where I am?”

“I know nothing of the adultsss, Princesss.”

It didn’t really matter now, but I suddenly wanted to know. Was I still a part of this family, or just a long-forgotten memory? How could I find out without asking Mom and Luke? I snapped my fingers. My bedroom. I had deliberately avoided it until now, unsure if I could handle seeing it turned into an office, or a guest room, proof that Mom had forgotten me. But with Ethan clutching my hand, his blanket trailing behind us, I walked down the hall to my room and pushed the door open.

It was exactly as I remembered it, frozen in ice, familiar and strange at the same time. A lump caught in my throat as I walked inside. Nothing had changed. There was my old stuffed bear sitting on my bed, a birthday present from long ago. My Naruto and Escaflowne posters were still on the wall. I ran my fingers over my dresser, scanning the photographs between my scattered collection of CDs, now probably ruined. Photos of me, Mom and Ethan. One family picture with Luke. One of me and Beau, our old German shepherd, as a puppy. And a small, single framed picture on my nightstand that I didn’t recognize.

Frowning, I snapped it away from the ice and held it up, staring at the photograph. It was a picture of me as a little kid, no older than Ethan, being held by an unfamiliar man with short brown hair and a lopsided smile.

“Oh, my God,” I whispered.

My knees crumpled, and I sat down on the bed, slush and frigid water seeping through my clothes. I barely felt it. Ethan stood on tiptoes to stare at the frame. “Who’s that?” he whispered.

Puck appeared in the doorway, his shirt and hands smeared with blood. “Princess? We should get going. Ash says there’s a tatter-colt outside who can give us a ride to the healer.” He stopped when he saw my face. “What’s wrong?”

I held up the frame. “Recognize him?”

Puck squinted at the photo, then his eyes got wide. “Hell,” he muttered. “It’s Charles.”

I nodded faintly. “Charles,” I whispered, pulling the frame back. “I didn’t even know him. I don’t know how I didn’t recognize…” I stopped, remembering an old woman shifting through my mind, scattering memories like leaves, searching for the one she wanted. When we were first searching for Ethan and the Iron King, we’d asked an ancient Oracle, living in New Orleans, to help us find Machina’s lair. The Oracle agreed to help us…in exchange for one of my memories. I hadn’t given it any thought until now. “That was the exchange, wasn’t it?” I asked bitterly, looking at Puck. “The Oracle’s payment for helping us. This was the memory she took.”

Puck didn’t say anything. I sighed, staring at the frame, then shook my head. “Who is he?” I asked.

“He was your father,” Puck murmured. “Or, at least, the man you thought was your father. Before you came here, and your mom met Luke. He disappeared when you were six.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off the strange photo, at the man holding me so easily, both of us smiling at the camera. “You knew who he was,” I murmured without looking away. “You knew who Charles was, didn’t you? All that time we were at Leanansidhe’s, you knew.” Puck didn’t answer, and I finally tore my gaze from the photo, glaring up at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“And what would you have done, Princess?” Puck crossed his arms and stared back, unrepentant. “Made a bargain with Leanansidhe? Dragged him home again, like nothing happened? Do you think your mom would take him back without a second thought?”

Of course she wouldn’t. She had Luke now, and Ethan. Nothing would change, even if I did manage to bring Charles home. And the worst part was, I couldn’t remember why I’d wanted to.

My mind spun. I was drowning in a torrent of confusing emotions, feeling my world turned upside down. The shock of discovery. Guilt that I didn’t recognize my mother’s first husband, the man who’d raised me as a child, and worse, couldn’t remember anything about him. He was like a stranger on the street. Anger at Puck. He had known all along, and deliberately kept me in the dark. Anger at Leanansidhe. What the hell was she doing with my dad? How did he even get there? And how was I going to get him out?

Did I even want to get him out?

“Princess.” Puck’s voice broke through my numb trance. I glared poisoned daggers at him and he gave me a weak smile. “Scary. You can rip me to pieces later. His royal iciness isn’t looking so good. We have to get him to a healer, now.”

Ethan sniffed and clamped himself to my leg, his small body tight with determination. “No!” he wailed. “No, she’s not leaving! No!”

I looked at Puck helplessly, torn in several directions and feeling I could scream. “I can’t leave him here alone.”

“He will not be alone, Princesss,” came Spider’s voice from under my bed. “We will defend him with our livesss, asss ordered.”

“Can you promise me that?”

A soft hiss. “Asss you wisssh. We three of the Unssseelie Court, bogey, tatter-colt, and cluricaun, promissse to look after the Chassse boy until we are told otherwissse by Hisss Highnesss Prince Asssh or Queen Mab herssself.”

I still didn’t like it, but it was all I could do for now. Once a faery says the word promise, it is an ironclad contract. Ethan, however, wailed and clung tighter to my leg. “No!” he cried again, on his way to a rare but intense temper tantrum. “You’re not leaving! You’re not!”

Puck sighed and placed his palm gently on Ethan’s head, murmuring something under his breath. I saw a shimmer of glamour go through the air, and Ethan slumped against my leg, going silent mid-scream. Alarmed, I scooped him up, but a soft snore came from his open mouth, and Puck grinned.

“Did you really have to do that?” I said, bundling Ethan in the blanket and carrying him back to his room.

“Well, it was either that or turn him into a rabbit for a few hours.” Puck was infuriatingly unrepentant as he followed me down the hall. “And I don’t think your parents would’ve appreciated that.”

Icy water dripped from the ceiling and ran rivulets down the walls, soaking his toys and stuffed animals. “This isn’t going to work,” I groaned. “Even if he is asleep, I can’t leave him in here. He’ll freeze!”

As if on command, the closet door swung open, warm and dark and, most important, dry.

“Come on, Princess,” Puck urged as I hesitated. “Make a decision here. We’re running out of time.”

Reluctantly, I set Ethan’s small body in the closet, pulling down several more blankets to make a nest around him. He remained deeply asleep, breathing easily through his nose and mouth, and didn’t even stir as I piled the quilts around him.

“You’d better take good care of him,” I whispered to the shadows around me, knowing they were listening. After smoothing his hair back one last time, pulling the covers over his shoulders, I finally rose and followed Puck down the stairs.

“I hope Ash doesn’t object to us dragging his carcass outside,” Puck muttered as we made our way down the steps, getting dripped on every few feet. “I patched him up as best I could, but I don’t think he can walk very…” He trailed off as we reached the frozen living room. The front door creaked softly on its hinges, spilling a bar of moonlight across the floor, and Ash was nowhere to be seen.

I flung myself across the room, slipping on slush and ice, and burst onto the porch. Ash’s lean silhouette was moving silently across the yard, stumbling every few feet, one arm around his middle. At the edge of the trees, barely visible within the shadows, a small black horse with glowing crimson eyes waited for him.

I leaped down the steps and raced across the yard, my heart pounding in my ears. “Ash!” I cried, and lunged, catching hold of his arm. He flinched and tried shrugging me off, but nearly fell with the effort. “Wait! Where are you going?”

“Back for the scepter.” His voice was dull, and he tried pulling away again, but I clung to him desperately. “Let me go, Meghan. I have to do this.”

“No, you don’t! Not like this.” Despair rose up like a black tide, and I choked back tears. “What are you thinking? You can’t face them all alone. You’ll be killed.” He didn’t move, either to disagree or to shake me off, and my desperation grew. “Why are you doing this?” I whispered. “Why won’t you let us help you?”

“Meghan, please.” Ash sounded as if he was desperately clinging to the last shreds of his composure. “Let me go. I can’t stay here. Not after…” He shuddered and took a ragged breath. “Not after what I did.”

“That wasn’t you.” Releasing his arm, I stepped in front of him, blocking his path. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. Steeling myself, I stepped closer, finding the courage to gently turn his face to mine. “Ash, that wasn’t you. Don’t go blaming yourself—you had no control over this. This is no one’s fault but hers.”

His silver eyes were haunted. “It doesn’t excuse what I did.”

“No.” He flinched and tried drawing back, but I held firm. “But that doesn’t mean you should throw your life away because you feel guilty. What would that accomplish?” He regarded me solemnly, his expression unreadable, and my throat ached with longing. I yearned to fling my arms around him and hug him close, but I knew he wouldn’t allow it. “Virus is still out there,” I continued, holding his gaze, “and now we have a real chance to get the scepter back. But we have to do it together this time. Deal?”

He regarded me solemnly. “Is this another contract?”

“No,” I whispered, appalled. “I wouldn’t do that to you again.” He remained silent, staring at me, and I reluctantly let him go, raw desperation tearing at my stomach. “Ash, if you really want to leave, I can’t stop you. But—”

“I accept.”

I blinked at him. “Accept? What—?”

“The terms of our contract.” He bowed his head, his voice somber and grim. “I will aid you until we get the scepter back and return it to the Winter Court. I will stay with you until these terms are fulfilled, this I promise.”

“Is that all it is to you? A bargain?”

“Meghan.” He glanced at me, eyes pleading. “Let me do this. It’s the only way I can think of to repay you.”

“But—”

“So, are we done here?” Puck sauntered up beside me, putting an arm around my shoulders before I could stop him. Ash stiffened, drawing back, and his eyes went cold. Puck looked past him to the tatter-colt, standing in the trees, and raised an eyebrow. “I guess that’s our ride, then.”

The black horse pinned its ears and curled back its lips in a very unhorselike snarl, baring flat yellow teeth at us. Puck snickered. “Huh, I don’t think your friend likes me very much, Your Highness. Looks like you’ll be riding to the healer’s solo.”

“I’ll go with him,” I said quickly, stepping out of Puck’s casual embrace. He blinked at me and scowled as I pulled him aside. “Ash can barely keep his feet,” I whispered, matching his glare. “Someone has to stay with him. I just want to make sure he doesn’t go off on his own.”

He gave me that infuriating smirk. “Sure, Princess. Whatever you say.”

I resisted the urge to punch him. “Just get us to the healer, Puck.” He rolled his eyes and stalked off, glaring at Ash as he swept by. Ash watched him leave without comment, his expression strangely dead.

Turning away, he stumbled over to the tatter-colt, which bent its forelegs and knelt for him so that he could pull himself onto its back with a barely noticeable grimace. A little nervously, I approached the equine fey, which tossed its head and swished its ragged tail but thankfully didn’t lunge or bite. It didn’t kneel for me, however, and I had to scramble onto its back the hard way, settling behind Ash and wrapping my arms around his waist. For a moment, I closed my eyes and laid my cheek against his back, content just to hold him without fear. I heard his heartbeat quicken, and felt a little shiver go through him, but he remained tense in my arms, rigid and uncomfortable. A heaviness settled in my chest, and I swallowed the lump in my throat.

A harsh cry made me glance up. A huge raven swooped overhead, so close that I felt the wind from its passing ruffle my hair. It perched on a branch and looked back at us, eyes glowing green in the darkness, before barking another caw and flapping away into the trees. Ash gave a quiet word to follow, and the tatter-colt started after it, slipping into the woods as silently as a ghost. I turned and watched my house getting smaller and smaller through the branches, until the forest closed in and the trees obscured it completely.

CHAPTER TWENTY The Healer

We rode for a couple hours while the sky above us turned from pitch black to navy blue to the faintest tinge of pink. Puck kept well ahead of us, flitting from branch to branch until we caught up, then swooping away again. He led us deep into the swamps, through bogs where the tatter-colt sloshed through waist-deep pools of murky water, past huge, moss-covered trees dripping with vines. Ash said nothing as we traveled, but his head hung lower and lower the farther we went, until it was all I could do to hold him upright.

Finally, as the last of the stars faded from the sky, the tatter-colt pushed its way through a cluster of vine-covered trees to find the raven perched atop a rustic-looking shack in the middle of the swamp.

Before the tatter-colt stopped moving, Ash was sliding off its back, crumpling to the misty ground. As soon as he was off, the tatter-colt began tossing its head and bucking, until I half slid, half fell off its back into the mud. Snorting, the colt trotted into the bushes with its head held high and disappeared.

I knelt by Ash, and my heart clenched at how pallid he looked, the abrasions on his face standing out angrily against his pale skin. I touched his cheek and he groaned, but he didn’t open his eyes.

Puck was there suddenly, dragging Ash to his feet, grimacing at the pain of his own wound. “Princess,” he gritted out, taking the prince’s weight, “go wake up the healer. Tell her we’ve got an iron-sickened prince on our hands. But be careful.” He grinned, his normal self once more. “She can be a little cranky before she’s had her coffee.”

I climbed the rickety wooden steps onto the porch, which creaked under my feet. A cluster of toadstools, growing right out of the wall near the door, pulsed with a soft orange light, and the shack itself was covered in various moss, lichens and mushrooms of different colors. I took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

No one answered right away, so I banged again, louder this time. “Hello?” I called, peering through a dusty, curtained window. My raw throat ached, bringing tears to my eyes, but I raised my voice and called out again. “Is anyone there? We need your help! Hello?”

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” yelled an irritable voice on the other side. “Do you people think healers don’t have to sleep, is that it?” Shuffling footsteps made their way to the door while the voice still continued to mutter. “Up all night with a sick catoblepas, but do I get any rest? Of course not, healers don’t need rest. They can just drink one of their special potions and stay up all night, for days on end, ready to jump at every emergency that comes banging on their door at five in the morning!” The door whooshed open, and I found myself staring at empty air.

“What?” snapped the voice near my feet. I looked down.

An ancient gnome stared up at me, her face wrinkled and shriveled like a walnut under a frayed clump of white hair. Barely two feet tall, dressed in a once-white robe with tiny gold glasses on the end of her nose, she glared at me like a furious midget bear, black eyes snapping with irritation.

I felt a stab of recognition. “Ms…. Ms. Stacy?” I blurted out, seeing, for just a moment, my old school nurse. The gnome blinked up at me, then pulled her glasses off and began cleaning them.

“Well now, Ms. Chase,” she said, cementing my hunch. “It has been a while. Last I saw you, you were hiding in my office after that cruel trick that boy played on you in the cafeteria.”

I winced at the memory. That had been the most embarrassing day of my life, and I didn’t want to think about it. “What are you doing here?” I asked, amazed. The nurse snorted and shoved her glasses back atop her nose.

“Your father, Lord Oberon, bade me keep an eye on you with Mr. Goodfellow,” she replied, looking up at me primly. “If you were hurt, I was supposed to heal you. If you saw anything strange, I was to help you forget. I provided Goodfellow with the necessary herbs and potions he needed to keep you from seeing us.” She sighed. “But then, you went traipsing off to the Nevernever to find your brother, and everything unraveled. Fortunately, Oberon allowed me to keep my job as school nurse, in case you ever came back.”

I felt a small prick of anger that this woman had blinded me for so long, but I couldn’t think about that now. “We need your help,” I said, turning so she could see Puck and Ash coming toward the porch. “My friend has been stabbed, but not only that, he’s iron-sick and getting weaker. Please, can you help him?”

“Iron-sick? Oh dear.” The gnome peered past me, staring at the two fey boys in the yard, and her eyes got wide behind her glasses. “That…is that…Prince Ash?” she gasped, as the blood drained from her face. “Mab’s son? You expect me to help a prince of Winter? Have you gone mad? I…no!” She backed through the door, shaking her head. “No, absolutely not!”

The door started to slam, but I stuck my foot in the frame, wincing as it banged my knee. “Please,” I begged, shouldering my way through the gap. The nurse glared at me, pursing her lips, as I crowded through the frame. “Please, he could be dying, and we have nowhere else to go.”

“I don’t make a habit of aiding the Unseelie, Ms. Chase.” The nurse sniffed and struggled to close the door, but I wasn’t budging. “Let his own take care of him. I’m sure the Winter Court has its share of healers.”

“We don’t have time!” Anger flared. Ash was getting weaker. He could be dying, and with every second, the scepter got farther away. I bashed my shoulder into the door, and it flew open. The nurse stumbled back, hand going to her chest, as I stepped into the room. “I’m sorry,” I told her in my best firm voice, “but I’m not giving you a choice. You will help Ash, or things will get very unpleasant in a very short time.”

“I won’t be bullied by a half-human brat!”

I straightened and towered over her, my head just touching the ceiling. “Oberon is my father, you said so yourself. Consider this an order from your princess.” When she scowled, her eyes nearly sinking into the creases of her face, I crossed my arms and glared imperiously. “Or, should I inform my father that you refused to help me? That I came to you for aid, and you turned me away? I don’t think he’d be too pleased about that.”

“All right, all right!” She raised her hands. “I’ll get no peace otherwise, I see that now. Bring in the Winter prince. But your father will hear of this, young lady.” She turned and shook a finger at me. “He will hear of this, and then we will see who will be the target of his ire.”

I felt a small pang of guilt that I had to pull the daddy card like some spoiled rich kid, but it faded as Puck dragged Ash up the stairs. The prince seemed more wraith than flesh now, his skin a sickly gray except for the angry red wounds on his face and arms, where the skin seemed to be peeling off the bones. I shuddered and my heart twisted with worry.

“Put him in here,” the nurse ordered, directing Puck to a small side room with a low-lying bed. Puck complied, laying Ash down on the sheets before collapsing into a chair that looked like an enormous mushroom.

The nurse sniffed. “I see the princess has you in on this, too, Robin.”

“Don’t look at me.” Puck smirked and wiped a hand across his face. “I did my best to kill the guy, but when the princess wants something, there’s no changing her mind.”

I scowled at him. He shrugged and offered a helpless grin, and I turned back to Ash.

“Ugh, he doesn’t just smell of iron, he reeks of it,” the nurse muttered, examining the wounds on his face and arms. “These burns aren’t normal—they’ve erupted from the inside out. It’s almost like he had something metal inside him.”

“He did,” I said quietly, and the nurse shuddered, wiping her hands. She pulled up Ash’s shirt, revealing a layer of gauze that was just beginning to seep blood onto the mattress. “At least the bandaging was done properly,” she mused. “Very nice, clean work. Your handiwork, I presume, Goodfellow?”

“Which one?”

“The bandage, Robin.”

“Yeah, that was mine, too.”

The nurse sighed, bending over Ash, studying the cuts on his face, peeling away the gauze to see the stab wound. Her brow furrowed. “So, let me get this straight,” she continued, looking at Puck. “You stabbed Ash, prince of the Winter Court.”

“Guilty as charged.”

“And, judging by both of your conditions—” her eyes flickered to my throat and Puck’s bloody shoulder “—I’m guessing the Winter prince did that to you, as well.”

“Right again.”

“Which means you were fighting each other.” The nurse’s eyes narrowed. “Which means he was probably trying to kill you, yes?”

“Well…” I stammered.

“So, why in the name of all that’s sacred do you want me to heal him? Not that I won’t,” she added, holding up her hand, “but what’s to stop him from attacking you again? Or me, for that matter?”

“He won’t,” I said quickly. “I promise, he won’t.”

“Are you planning to use him as a hostage, is that it?”

“No! It’s just—” I sighed. “It’s a long story.”

“Well, you will have to tell me later,” the nurse sighed, standing up. “Your friend is very lucky,” she continued, crossing the room to take a porcelain jar off the shelf. “I don’t know how he didn’t die, but he is strong, to survive as long as he did. He must’ve been in terrible pain.” She returned to his side, shaking her head as she knelt beside him. “I can heal his surface wounds, but I don’t know what I can do about the iron sickness. He must recover from that himself. It is better if he returns to Tir Na Nog after this. His body will throw off the sickness faster in his own land.”

“That’s not really an option,” I ventured. The nurse snorted.

“Then I’m afraid he will be quite weak for a long, long time.” She straightened and turned around, staring at us with her hands on her hips. “Now I need to work. Both of you, out. If you’re tired, use the extra bed in the adjoining room, but don’t disturb my other patient. The prince will be fine, but I can’t be tripping over you every few seconds. Go on, now. Get.”

Making shooing motions with her hands, she chased us from the room and slammed the door behind us.

EVEN EXHAUSTED, I was too worried to sleep. I wandered the healer’s small cabin like a restless cat, checking the door every ten seconds, waiting for it to open. Ash was on the other side, and I didn’t know what was happening to him. I drove Puck and the satyr with the broken leg crazy, drifting from one room to the next, until Puck threatened, only half jokingly, to put a sleeping spell on me if I didn’t relax. To which I threatened, only half jokingly, that I would kill him if he did.

Finally, the door creaked open and the nurse stepped out, bloodstained and weary-eyed, her hair in disarray.

“He’s fine,” she told me as I rushed up, the question on the tip of my tongue. “Like I said before, he’s still weak from the iron-sickness, but he’s no longer in any danger. Though I must say—” and she glared at me fiercely, “—the boy almost snapped my wrist when I tried sewing his wounds shut. Wretched Unseelie, the only thing they know is violence.”

“Can I see him?”

She eyed me over her gold-rimmed glasses, and sighed. “I should tell you no, he needs his rest, but you wouldn’t listen to me, anyway. So yes, you can see him, but keep it short. Oh, and Robin,” she said, crooking a finger at Puck, “a word.”

Puck gave me a grimace of mock terror and followed the nurse from the room. I watched them leave, then slipped quietly into the darkened room, closing the door behind me.

Easing over to his bed, I sat beside him and studied his face. The cuts were still there, but they were faded now, less severe. His shirt was off, and clean bandages wrapped his stomach and torso. His breathing was slow and deep, his chest rising and falling with each breath. I reached down and gently placed a hand over his heart, wanting to touch him, to feel his heartbeat under my fingers. His face was peaceful, free of harsh lines or worries, but even in sleep, he looked a little sad.

Preoccupied with watching his face, I didn’t see his arm move until strong fingers curled gently over mine. My stomach leaped as I looked down, seeing my hand trapped within his, and glanced back at his face. His silver eyes were open now, staring at me, his expression unreadable in the darkness. My breath caught in my throat.

“Hi,” I whispered, for lack of anything to say. He continued to watch me, unmoving, and I rattled on. “Um, the nurse says you’re going to be fine now. You’ll be a little sick from the iron, but that should fade with time.” He remained silent, his eyes never leaving my face, and my cheeks started to burn. Maybe he just had a nightmare, and I’d startled him by creeping into his room like a stalker. I was lucky he hadn’t snapped my wrist like he almost did with the nurse. “Sorry if I woke you,” I muttered, attempting to pull back. “I’ll let you sleep now.”

His grip tightened, stopping me. “Stay.”

My heart soared. I looked down at him, wishing I could just melt into him, feel his arms around me. He sighed, and his eyes closed. “You were right,” he murmured, his voice nearly lost in the darkness. “I couldn’t do it alone. I should have listened to you back in Tir Na Nog.”

“Yes, you should have,” I whispered. “Remember that, so that next time you can just agree with whatever I say and we’ll be fine.”

Though he didn’t open his eyes, one corner of his mouth curled, ever so slightly. It was what I was hoping for. For a moment, the barriers had crumbled and we were all right again. I squeezed his hand. “I missed you,” I whispered.

I waited for him to say I missed you, too, but he grew very still under my hand, and my heart plummeted. “Meghan,” he began, sounding uncomfortable. “I…I still don’t know if…” He stopped, opening his eyes. “We’re still on opposite sides,” he murmured, his voice tinged with regret. “Nothing changes that, even now. Contract aside, you’re still considered my enemy. Besides, I thought you and Goodfellow—”

I shook my head. “Puck is…” I began, and stopped. What was he? Thinking about him, I suddenly realized I couldn’t say he was just a friend. “Just friends” didn’t kiss each other in an empty bedroom. “Just a friend” wouldn’t make my stomach squirm in weird, fluttery ways when he came through a door. Was this love, this strange, confusing swirl of emotion? I didn’t have the same intense feelings for Puck that I did for Ash, but I did feel something for him. I couldn’t deny that anymore.

I swallowed. “Puck is…” I tried again.

“Is what?”

I spun around. Puck stood in the doorway, a rather dangerous smile on his face, watching us with narrowed green eyes.

“…talking to the nurse,” I said faintly, as Ash released my hand and turned his face away. Puck stared at me, hard and uncomfortable, as if he knew what I was thinking.

“Nurse wants to talk to you,” he said at last, turning away. “Says to leave his royal iciness alone so he can sleep. Better go see what she has to say, Princess, before she starts throwing her coffee mug.”

I glanced down at Ash, but his eyes were closed and he wasn’t looking at me.

A little apprehensive, I approached the kitchen, where the nurse sat at the table with a steaming mug of what was probably coffee, since the whole room smelled like it. The nurse glanced up and waved me to the opposite chair.

“Sit down, Miss Chase.”

I did. Puck joined us, plunking into the seat beside me, munching an apple he’d gotten from who knew where.

“Robin tells me you’re going on a dangerous mission after this,” she began, cupping her withered hands around the mug, staring into the coffee. “He wouldn’t give me details, but that’s why you need the Winter prince healthy, so he can help you. Is that right?”

I nodded.

“The problem is, if you go through with this plan, you’ll almost certainly kill him.”

I jerked up. “What are you talking about?”

“He is very sick, Miss Chase.” She glared at me over the rim of her mug, steam writhing off her glasses. “I wasn’t joking when I said he’ll be weak. The iron was in his system too long.”

“Isn’t there anything else you can do?”

“Me? No. He needs the glamour of his own realm to heal, so his body can throw off the sickness. Barring that—” she took a sip of coffee “—if you could find a great influx of human emotion, in large quantities, that might help him. At the very least, he could begin to recover.”

“Lots of glamour?” I thought a moment. Where would there be a lot of crazy, unrestrained human emotion? A concert or a club would be perfect, but we had no tickets, and I was underage for most clubs. But, as Grimalkin had taught me, that wasn’t a problem when you could conjure money from leaves and a valid license from a Blockbuster card. “Puck—think you can sneak us into a club tonight?”

He snorted. “I can sneak us into anything, Princess. Who do you think you’re talking to?” He snapped his fingers, grinning. “We can pay a visit to Blue Chaos again, that’ll be fun.”

The nurse blinked. “Blue Chaos is owned by a Winter sidhe who employs redcaps and is rumored to have an ogre in the basement.” She sighed. “Wait. If you insist on doing this, I’ve a better idea, one not so…insane.” She looked caught between reluctance and resignation as she turned to me. “The Winter Formal is tonight at your old school, Miss Chase. If there is one place that is sure to have an overabundance of emotionally charged, hormonal teenagers, that would be it.”

“The Winter Formal? Tonight?” My stomach fluttered. Going back to my school would mean facing my former classmates, and all the gossip, rumors and stories that followed. I would have to wear a fancy dress in front of everyone, maybe even dance, and they would all snicker and laugh and whisper behind my back. Think of an excuse, Meghan, quick. “How will we get in? I haven’t been to school in forever, and they’re likely to be monitoring the tickets to make sure only students attend.”

Puck snorted. “Please. How many of these things do you think I’ve crashed? Tickets?” He sneered. “We don’t need no stinkin’ tickets.”

The nurse shot Puck an annoyed look and turned to me. “Your parents called off the investigation for you a few months ago, Miss Chase,” she said solemnly. “I believe the excuse your mother used was that you had come home and that they sent you away to a boarding school out of state. I’m not sure what she told your father—”

“Stepfather,” I muttered automatically.

“—but no one has been looking for you for a while,” the nurse finished, as if I hadn’t said anything. “Your appearance might seem odd at first, but I’m sure Robin can fix it so you aren’t conspicuous. Either way, I doubt anyone will remember you.”

I wasn’t sure about that. “What about a dress?” I argued, still determined to find a loophole. “I don’t have anything to wear.”

This time, I received scornful looks from both the nurse and Puck. “We can get you a dress, Princess,” Puck scoffed. “Hell, I can glamour you a dress made of diamonds and butterflies, if you want.”

“That’s a little extravagant, don’t you think, Robin?” The nurse shook her head at him. “Do not worry, Miss Chase,” she told me. “I have friends who can help us in that regard. You will have a beautiful dress for the formal, I promise you that.”

Well, that would be a nice sentiment, if I wasn’t absolutely terrified. I tried again. “The school is forty-five minutes away,” I pointed out, “and I don’t have a license. How will we get there?”

“I have a trod that leads directly to my office in the school,” the nurse replied, crushing that hope. “We can be there in seconds, and you won’t miss a thing.”

Damn. I was fast running out of excuses. Desperately, I played my last card.

“What about Ash? Should we move him this soon? What if he doesn’t want to go?”

“I’ll go.”

We all whirled around. Ash stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, looking exhausted but a little better than before. His skin had lost the gray pallor, and the wounds across his face and arms were not as striking. He didn’t look good, by any means, but at least he wasn’t at death’s door.

Ash clenched a fist in front of his face, then let it drop. “I can’t fight like this,” he said. “I’d be a liability, and our chances of getting the scepter will diminish. If there’s a chance for me to shake this off, I’ll take it.”

“Are you sure?”

He looked at me, and that faint, familiar smile crossed his lips. “I have to be on top of my game if I’m going to kill things for you, right?”

“What you need,” the nurse replied, stalking toward him with a steely glint in her eye, “is to go back to bed. I did not spend the last few hours stitching you back together for you to fall apart because you refused to stay down. Go on, now. Back to bed!”

He looked vaguely amused, but let himself be herded back into the room, and the nurse shut the door firmly behind him. “Bullheaded youngsters,” she sighed. “Think they’re damned invincible.” Puck snickered, which was the wrong thing to do.

She whirled around. “Oh, you think it’s funny, do you, Goodfellow?” she snapped, and Puck winced. “I happened to notice your shoulder doesn’t look well at all. In fact, it’s bleeding all over my clean floor. I believe it needs stitches. Follow me, please.”

“It’s only a flesh wound,” Puck said, and the nurse’s gaze darkened. Stalking back across the floor, she grabbed him by one long ear and pulled him out of the chair. “Ow! Hey! Ow! Okay, okay, I’m coming! Jeez.”

“Miss Chase,” the nurse snapped, and I jerked to attention. “While I’m fixing up this idiot, I want you to get some sleep. You look exhausted. Use the empty cot in the patient room, and tell Amano that if he bothers you, I’ll break his other leg. After I’m done with Robin, I’ll come by with something for your throat.”

Doubts still nagged at me, but I nodded. Finding the empty cot, I lay down, ignoring the satyr who invited me to share his “much softer bed.” I’ll just lie down for a minute, I thought, turning my back on Amano. Just for a minute, and then I’ll check on Ash.

“COME ON, you sleeping beauty. We’ve got a ball to attend.”

I woke up, embarrassed and confused, staring around blearily. The room was dark; candles flickered erratically, and mushrooms on the walls glowed with a soft yellow luminance. Puck stood over me, grinning as usual, the light casting weird, fluttering shadows over his face.

“Come on, Princess. You slept all day and missed the fun. Our lovely nurse got a few of her friends together to make you a dress. They refuse to show it to me, of course, so you have to march in there and come out wearing it.”

“What are you talking about?” I muttered, before I remembered. The Winter Formal! I was supposed to show up at my old school after being gone for so long, and face all my former classmates. There would be pointing and rumors and whispers behind my back, and my stomach clenched at the thought.

But there was no going back now. If we were going to get the scepter, Ash needed to heal, which meant I had to endure the humiliation and just get on with it.

I trailed Puck out of the room, where the nurse was waiting for me in the hall, a small, pleased smile on her lips. “Ah, there you are, Miss Chase.”

“How’s Ash?” I asked before she could say anything else. With a snort, the nurse turned and beckoned me to follow.

“The same,” she replied, leading me down the hall. We passed Ash’s room, the door tightly closed, and continued without pausing. “The stubborn fool is walking now, and even challenged Robin to a sparring match this afternoon. I stopped them, of course, though Robin was only too happy to fight him, the idiot.”

“Hey,” Puck said behind us. “I’m not the one who offered. I was just doing the guy a favor.”

The nurse whirled and fixed him with a gimlet eye. “You—” she began, then threw her hands up. “Go get ready, idiot. You’ve been hovering at the door like a lost puppy all day. Tell the prince we’ll be leaving as soon as Miss Chase is ready. Now, get.”

Puck retreated, grinning, and the nurse sighed. “Those two,” she muttered. “They’re either best friends or darkest enemies, I can’t tell which. Come with me, Miss Chase.”

She pushed open another door and stepped through, and I followed, ducking my head. We entered a small room with shelves and potted plants encircling the walls, and a sharp, almost medicinal tang filled the room, as if I had wandered into someone’s herb garden. Which, I guess, I had. Two other gnomes, as shriveled and wrinkly as the nurse, looked up from three-legged stools and waved cheerfully.

My breath caught. They were working on a dress so gorgeous my mind stumbled to a halt for a moment. A floor-length, blue satin gown hung from a mannequin in the center of the room, rippling like water in the sun. The bodice was embroidered with silvery designs and glittering ribbons of pure light, and a gauzy blue shawl had been draped over the naked shoulders, so sheer that it was almost invisible. A sparkling diamond choker encircled the mannequin’s neck, sending prisms of fragmented light across the walls. The entire outfit was dazzling.

I swallowed. “Is that…for me?”

One of the other gnomes, a short man with a nose like a potato, laughed. “Well, the prince certainly isn’t going to wear it.”

“It’s beautiful.”

The gnomes preened. “Our ancestors were shoemakers, but we’ve learned to sew a few other things, as well. This weave is stronger than normal glamour, and won’t fray if you happen to touch anything made of iron. Now, come try it on.”

It fit perfectly, sliding over my skin as if made for me. I caught a shimmer of glamour out of the corner of my eye as I pulled it on, and deliberately ignored it. If this dress was put together with leaves, moss and spider silk, I didn’t want to know.

When I was done, I raised my arms and turned around for inspection. The tailor gnomes clapped like happy seals, and the nurse nodded approvingly.

“Take a look at yourself,” she murmured, making a spinning motion with her finger. I turned to see myself in the floor-length mirror that appeared out of nowhere, and blinked in surprise.

Not only was the dress perfect, but my hair was styled into complex curls, my face lightly touched with makeup, making me look older than before. And, whether it was part of the dress’s glamour or the nurse’s doing, I looked human again, without the pointed ears and huge, unnatural eyes. I looked like a normal teenager, ready for prom. Illusion, I knew, but it still startled me a moment, this tall, elegant stranger in the mirror.

“The boys won’t be able to keep their eyes off her,” a gnome sighed, and all my fears came rushing back. Fancy dress or no, I was still me, the invisible Swamp Girl of Albany High. Nothing would change that.

“Come,” the nurse said, putting a shriveled hand on mine. “It’s almost time.”

Back we went, through the door into the central room, where a handsome boy in a classic black tuxedo waited for us. I gasped when I saw it was Puck. His crimson hair had been spiked up so it didn’t look quite as disheveled, and his shoulders filled out the jacket he wore. I hadn’t realized how fit he was. His green eyes raked me up and down, very, very briefly before returning to my face, and he smiled. Not teasing or sarcastic, but a pure, genuine smile.

“Humph,” said the nurse, not nearly as shocked as me. “I guess you can clean up when you want to, Robin.”

“I try.” Puck, looking very human now, crossed the room and reached for my hand, slipping a white corsage onto my wrist. “You look gorgeous, Princess.”

“Thanks,” I whispered. “You look nice, yourself.”

“Nervous?” he asked.

I nodded. “A little. What will I say if someone asks me where I’ve been? How will I explain what I’ve done all year, especially after I come waltzing in like nothing has happened? What about you?” I looked up at him. “Won’t they wonder where you’ve been all this time?”

“Not me.” Puck’s normal grin came flashing back. “I’ve been gone too long—long enough for anyone to forget that I ever went to high school. The most I’ll get is a vague recollection, like déjà vu, but no one will really recognize me.” He shrugged. “One of the perks of being me.”

“Lucky you,” I muttered.

“Are we ready?” the nurse asked, suddenly appearing in her human mien, a short, stout woman in a white lab coat, with lined brown skin and the same gold glasses on the end of her nose. “And if you’re wondering, yes, I am coming with you,” she announced, peering at us over her glasses, “just to make sure my patient doesn’t push himself so hard he collapses. So, are we done here?”

“We’re still waiting for Ash.”

“Not anymore,” she replied, gazing over my shoulder. I turned slowly, heart pounding against my ribs, not knowing what to expect. For a moment, my mind went completely blank.

I’d daydreamed about Ash in a tuxedo, silly fantasies that crossed my mind every so often, but the image in my head was as far removed as a house cat was to a jaguar. His tuxedo wasn’t black, but a dazzling, spotless white, the open jacket showing a white vest and an icy blue tie beneath. His cuff links, the silk handkerchief in his breast pocket, and the glittering stud in his ear were the same icy color. Everything else was white, even his shoes, but instead of appearing ghostly or faded, he filled the room with presence, a royal among commoners. He stood in the doorway with his hands in his pockets, the picture of nonchalance, and even as a human, he was too gorgeous for words. His dark hair had been combed back, falling softly around his face, and his mercury eyes, though they should’ve seemed pale against all the white, glimmered more brightly than anything.

And they were fixed solely on me.

I was unable to move or make a sound. If my knees hadn’t already been locked, I would’ve been a satiny blue puddle on the floor. Ash’s gaze held mine; his eyes didn’t stray from my face, but I felt him looking at all of me, taking me in as surely as Puck had scanned the length of my dress in a glance. I couldn’t stop staring back. Everything around me—noise, colors, people—faded into the ether, losing all relevance and meaning, until it was only me and Ash in the entire world.

Then someone took my elbow, and my heart jolted back to normal.

“Okay,” Puck said a little too loudly, steering me away, “the gang’s all here. Are we going to this party, or not?”

Ash walked up beside me. He made no noise, but I could feel his presence as surely as my own. He didn’t offer his arm or make any move to touch me, but my nerves buzzed and my skin tingled, just with him standing there. I caught a hint of frost and the strange, sharp smell that was uniquely him, and the memory of our first dance together came rushing back.

I didn’t miss the subtle look that passed between Ash and Puck, either. Ash kept his expression carefully blank, but Puck’s mouth twitched in a faint smirk—one of his dangerous ones—and his eyes narrowed a fraction.

The nurse must’ve seen it, too, for she clapped her hands briskly, and I jumped about three feet in the air. “May I remind you three,” she stated in a no-nonsense voice, “that even though this is a party, we are there for a specific reason. We are not there to spike the punch, seduce the humans, glamour the food, challenge the males to a fight, or do anything pertaining to mischief. Is that understood?” She shot a piercing glare at Puck when she said this, and he pointed to himself with wide-eyed, who, me? look. It did not amuse her. “I will be watching you,” she warned, and even though she was barely four feet tall, white-haired, and shriveled like a prune, she made the threat sound ominous. “Do try to behave yourselves.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE The Winter Formal

It was an eerie feeling, walking the hallways of my school after being gone for so long. Dozens of memories floated through my head as we passed once-familiar landmarks: Mr. Delany’s classroom where I’d sat behind Scott Waldron in Classic Lit, the bathrooms I’d spent a lot of time in, crying, the cafeteria where Robbie and I had always eaten together at the last table in the corner. So much had changed since then. The school seemed different somehow, less real than before. Or maybe I was the one who had changed.

Clusters of blue and white balloons led the way to the gym, light and music pouring out from the double doors and windows. My stomach started turning nervous backflips the closer we got, especially when the doors swung open and two students walked out, holding hands and giggling. The boy pulled his date to him for a long, tongue-swabbing kiss, before they broke apart and began creeping behind the building.

“Mmm, smell the lust,” Puck muttered beside me. The nurse snorted.

“They’re not supposed to leave the gym without supervision,” she growled, putting her hands on her hips. “Where are the chaperones? I suppose I’ll have to deal with this. You three, behave.” She stalked away, virtually bristling with indignation, following the pair around the gym and into the shadows.

The coast was clear. Swallowing my nervousness, I looked back at the boys to see if they were ready. Puck grinned at me, eager as always, mischief written plainly on his face. Ash regarded me with a solemn expression. He looked stronger already, his eyes bright, the cuts healed to just faint, thin scars across his cheeks. Our gazes met, and the depth of emotion smoldering within left me breathless.

“How do you feel?” I asked, to hide the longing I knew must show on my face. “Is this helping at all? Are you getting better?”

He smiled, very faintly. “Save me a dance,” he murmured.

And then we were moving toward the gym. The music grew louder and the din of voices echoed beyond the walls. Puck and Ash each pushed open a door, and we swept through into another world.

The gym had been decorated with more blue and white balloons, crepe paper, and glittering foam snowflakes, though we never saw snow in Louisiana. We passed the ticket booth with a group of teens clustered around it, either buying tickets or waiting in line. No one seemed to notice us as we swept by, but my stomach lurched as I caught sight of a familiar figure, smiling as she handed tickets to another well-dressed couple. Angie the ex-cheerleader stood behind the table, minus the huge pig nose Puck had given her last year in a vengeful prank. She seemed perfectly happy, smiling and nodding as if she did this kind of work every day. I tried to catch her eye as we passed, but her attention was on the line in front of her and the moment was gone.

Beyond the ticket booth, blue and white tables lined one side of the room; only a few people sat there, the unfortunate ones who couldn’t get a date but didn’t want to miss the formal just because they were single.

Where I would be, I thought, if I hadn’t been pulled into Faery. Or, more than likely, I wouldn’t have been here in the first place. I’d have been home, with a movie and a half-pint of ice cream.

The room’s other half was a sea of swirling gowns and tuxedos. Couples swayed to the music, some dancing casually with their partners, some so welded together you’d need a crowbar to pry them apart. Scott Waldron, my old crush, had his arms around a stick-thin blonde I recognized as one of the cheerleaders, his hands sliding below her waist to fondle her rear. I watched them dance, their hands roaming all over each other, and felt nothing.

And then the murmurs began, starting from the table where the Dateless sat, spreading to the dance floor and the corners of the room. People were staring at us, shooting furtive glances over their dates’ shoulders, heads bent low to whisper to each other. My face burned and my steps faltered, wanting to beat a hasty retreat from the room to the nearest bathroom stall. Mr. Delany, my old English teacher, looked up from where he stood guard over the punch bowl and frowned. Breaking away from the table, he strode toward us, squinting through his thick glasses. My heart pounded, and I turned to Puck in a panic.

“Mr. Delany is coming toward us!” I hissed. Puck blinked and looked over my shoulder.

“Huh, it is old Delany. Jeez, he’s gotten fat. Hey, remember the time I put itching powder in his toupee?” He sighed dreamily. “That was a good day.”

“Puck!” I glared at him. “Help me out here! What do I say? He knows I haven’t been in school for months!”

“Excuse me,” Mr. Delany said, right behind me, and my heart nearly stopped. “Is that…Meghan Chase?” I turned to him with a sickly smile. “It is you. I thought so.” He gaped at me. “What are you doing here? Your mother told us you were at a boarding school in Maine.”

So that’s where I’ve been all this time. Nice cover, Mom. “I’m…uh…home for Christmas vacation,” I answered, saying the first thing that came to mind. “And I wanted to see my old school one more time before I went back.”

Mr. Delany frowned. “But, Christmas vacation was several…” He trailed off suddenly, a glazed look coming over his face. “Christmas vacation,” he murmured. “Of course. How lovely for you. Will you be coming back next year?”

“Um.” I blinked at his sudden change of mood. “I don’t know. Maybe? There’s still a lot of things to work out.”

“I see. Well, it was nice to see you, Meghan. Enjoy the dance.”

“See you, Mr. Delany.”

As he wandered back toward the punch bowl, I breathed a sigh of relief. “That was a close one. Nice save, Puck.”

“Huh?” Puck frowned at me. “What do you mean?”

“The charm spell?” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “Come on, you didn’t cast that?”

“Not me, Princess. I was about to turn his wig into a ferret, but then he went all sleepy-eyed before I could pull it off.” Puck sighed, gazing at the retreating English teacher in disappointment. “Pity, really. That would’ve livened up the party. There’s so much glamour here, it’s a shame not to use it.”

I looked over his shoulder. “Ash?”

The Winter prince gave me a faint smile. “Subtlety has never been Goodfellow’s forte,” he murmured, ignoring Puck’s scowl. “We’re not here to cause a riot. And human emotions have always been easy to manipulate.”

Like mine were? I wondered as we continued across the gym floor. Did you just cast a charm spell to manipulate my emotions, like Rowan tried to do? Are my feelings for you real, or some sort of fabricated glamour? And do I even care if they are?

At the tables, Puck stepped in front of me and bowed. “Princess,” he said formally, though his eyes were twinkling as he held out a hand. “May I have the honor of the first dance?”

“Um.” For a moment, I balked at the idea, on the verge of telling Puck that I couldn’t dance. But then I felt Ash’s gaze, reminding me of a moonlit grove and swirling around the dance floor with the Unseelie prince as scores of faeries looked on. You’re Oberon’s blood, his deep voice murmured in my head. Of course you can dance.

Besides, Puck wasn’t exactly giving me a choice. Taking my hand, he led me toward the floor. I glanced at Ash in apology, but the prince had moved to a dark corner and was leaning against the wall, looking out over the sea of faces.

And then we were dancing.

Puck danced very well, though I don’t know why this surprised me. He probably had loads of experience. I stumbled a few times at first, then closed my eyes and imagined my first dance with Ash. Stop thinking, Ash had told me that night as we swirled across the floor in front of several dozen fey. The audience doesn’t matter. The steps don’t matter. Just close your eyes and listen to the music. I remembered that dance, the way I’d felt with him, and the steps came easily once more.

Puck gave a soft chuckle. “Okaaaay,” he murmured as we spun around the room, “I seem to remember a certain someone swearing that she couldn’t dance at all. Obviously I must’ve been with her twin sister, because I was expecting you to step on my toes all night. Been taking lessons, Princess?”

“Oh…um. I sort of picked it up while I was in the Nevernever.” Not entirely a lie.

As we moved around the dance floor, I caught glimpses of Ash, standing alone in the corner with his hands in his pockets. It was too dark to see the emotion on his face, but his gaze never left us. Then Puck pulled me into a twirl, and I lost sight of him for a moment.

The next time I glanced in Ash’s direction, he wasn’t alone. Three girls, one of them the skinny blonde who had been melded to Scott a few minutes ago, had trapped him and were very obviously flirting. Smiling coyly, they oozed close, flipping their hair and giving him sultry looks from beneath their lashes. My hand fisted on Puck’s lapel. It took all my willpower not to stomp over and tell them to back the hell off, but what right did I have? Ash wasn’t mine. I didn’t have any claim to him.

Besides, he would probably just ignore them, or tell them to go away. But when I peeked at the corner again, I saw Ash smiling at the girls, achingly handsome and charming, and my stomach roiled. He was flirting with them.

The song came to an end and Puck drew back, frowning slightly, as though he knew my heart wasn’t in it anymore. I fanned myself with both hands, feigning breathlessness, but really drying the tears that stung my eyes. Ash was still there in the corner, chuckling at something one of the girls had said. My throat closed up, and my chest felt tight.

“You okay, Princess?”

I wrenched my gaze from Ash and the girls, swallowing hard. “A little hot,” I confessed, smiling as we edged our way off the dance floor, back to the tables. “And maybe a little dizzy.” Puck chuckled, his old self again, and pulled out a chair for me.

“Sorry. I just have that effect on people.” I smacked his stomach with the back of my hand as I sat down, and he grinned. “Hang on. I’ll get you something to drink.” He vanished into the crowd, making his way toward the refreshment table at the far wall. I hoped he wouldn’t spike the punch with something that would turn everyone into frogs. Sighing at the thought, I let my gaze wander around the gym, deliberately keeping it from straying to the far corner.

“Hey.” A body moved across my vision, blocking my view. A wide-shouldered body, in a perfectly tailored black tux. I glanced up past the vest and lapels and bow tie, and met Scott Waldron’s smiling gaze.

“Hi,” he greeted cheerfully, as my stomach did a backflip. Was I seeing this right? Was Scott Waldron, football jock extraordinaire, talking to me? Or was this another of his tricks, meant to embarrass and humiliate me, just like last time? I had to admit, he was still really cute—wide shoulders, wavy blond hair, adorable smile—but the memory of the entire cafeteria, roaring with laughter at my expense dampened my enthusiasm a bit. He wouldn’t play me like that, ever again.

“Uh, hi,” I returned cautiously.

“I’m Scott,” he went on in the confident, self-assured way of someone who was used to being admired. “I haven’t seen you around school before. You must go somewhere else, right? I’m the varsity quarterback for Albany High.”

He didn’t even recognize me. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or annoyed. Would he be talking to me now if he knew who I was? Would he remember the shy, geeky Swamp Girl who’d crushed on him for two years and waited by his locker every day just to watch him pass her in the hall? Did he ever regret the horrible prank he’d pulled all those months ago?

“You wanna dance?” he asked, holding out his big, football-callused hand.

I glanced toward the drinks table to see that Puck had been cornered by the nurse, who, from his half annoyed, half contrite expression, appeared to have caught him doing some kind of mischief. Probably spiking the punch, exactly as I’d feared.

A high-pitched giggle came from the corner I wasn’t looking at, and my stomach turned.

“Sure,” I answered, putting my hand in his. If he heard the bitterness in my voice, he didn’t let on as we swept out to the dance floor.

Scott put his hands very low on my waist as we swayed to the music, standing closer than I was really comfortable with, but I didn’t protest. Here I was, me, Meghan Chase, dancing with the esteemed Golden Boy of Albany High. I tried to be excited; a year ago, I would’ve given anything for Scott to look at me and smile. Had he asked me to dance, I probably would have fainted. But now, feeling his hands on my hips, seeing his face not six inches from mine, I thought only that Scott seemed very young. Still handsome and charming, there was no mistaking that, but the intense fluttery feeling I used to get whenever I looked at him was gone.

“So,” Scott murmured, running his hands up my back. I shifted uncomfortably, but at least they didn’t slide in the opposite direction. “Did I mention I’m the varsity quarterback already?”

“You did.” I smiled at him.

“Oh, right.” He grinned back, wrapping a curl of my hair around his finger. “Well, have you ever been to any of my games?”

“A few.”

“Yeah? Pretty impressive, huh? Think we have a chance to make Nationals this year?”

“I really don’t know much about football,” I admitted, hoping he would drop the subject. Apparently, it was the wrong thing to say. He immediately launched into a full explanation of the sport, citing all the games he’d won, his teammate’s flaws and shortcomings, and all the years he’d carried the team to victory. That led to his plans for college, how he’d gotten a scholarship to Louisiana State, how he’d been voted Most Likely to Succeed, and the brand-new Mustang his dad bought him just because he was so proud. I plastered a smile to my face, made appropriate noises of appreciation, and tried not to let my eyes glaze over.

“Hey,” he said at last, as I secretly hoped he was wrapping up, “you wanna get out of here? I’m meeting a bunch of people at Brody’s house later—his old man is out of town, and there’s gonna be a party after the dance. Wanna come?”

Another shock. Scott was inviting me to a cool kids’ party, where there would be drinking, drugs and other activities parents frowned upon. For just a moment, I felt a twinge of regret. The one night I got invited to a party would be the one night I couldn’t go.

“I can’t,” I told him. “I’m sorry, I have other plans tonight.”

He pouted. “Really?” he said, and his hands slid past my hips, definitely farther than I was comfortable with. “You can’t break them, even for me?”

I stiffened, and he actually seemed to get the hint, sliding them back into neutral territory. “I’m sorry,” I said again. “But I really can’t. Not tonight.”

He sighed in genuine regret. “All right, mystery girl, break my heart.” Taking my hand, he pressed it to his chest and gave me a coy, little-boy smile. “But at least let me call you this weekend. What’s your name?”

And there it was.

I could tell him. I could tell him, and watch the smile fade from his lips as he realized whom he’d been seducing so earnestly. Watch that cocky grin turn to horror and disbelief, and maybe just a little regret. I wanted to see regret. He deserved it, after what he’d done to me. I just had to say two words, two simple words, Meghan Chase, and the Golden Boy of Albany High would be laid lower than the bottom of my heels.

All I had to do was say my name.

I sighed, softly patted his chest, and whispered, “Let’s keep it a mystery, okay?”

“Uh…” The grin faltered, and he blinked, looking so confused that I almost laughed out loud. “Okay. But…how will I get in touch with you? How will I know who to call?”

“Excuse me.”

My stomach fluttered. I felt the smile stretching my face even before we turned around, though I tried to look severe and angry. It was no use. Ash stood there under the dim lights, solemn and beautiful as he extended his hand to me. “May I cut in?”

Knowing Scott, I expected him to refuse, to tell the competition to back off. But perhaps he was still off balance, or maybe it was something in the prince’s steady gaze that made him take a step back. Still looking a bit confused, like he didn’t know what had just happened, he wandered off the dance floor and into the crowd. And I suddenly had the feeling that would be the last time I ever saw Scott Waldron.

I suppose I should’ve been happy, but all I felt was relief that he was gone. Ash smiled at me, and I forgot to be angry, forgot to be distant and coy and aloof as I’d planned. Instead, I took his hand and let him draw me close, breathed in the frosty scent of him, and was whisked away to our first dance under the stars, the first time I held his hand, looked into his eyes, and was completely lost.

Dancing with Ash was exactly how I remembered it.

The song was slow and sweet, so we swayed back and forth, barely moving, but the look on his face, the feel of his hand on mine, was all heart-achingly familiar. I laid my head on his chest and closed my eyes, content to touch him, to listen to his heartbeat. He sighed and rested his chin atop my head, and for a moment, neither of us spoke; we just swayed to the music.

Until I decided to be an idiot and open my mouth.

“So, you seemed to be enjoying yourself back there.” I couldn’t keep the accusation from my voice, even though I hated myself for sounding like a freaky-possessive girlfriend. “Those girls found you very interesting, I suppose. What were you talking about?”

He chuckled, sending a tingle down my spine. He laughed so infrequently, and it was a deep, marvelous sound when he did. “They invited me to a party after the dance,” he murmured, pulling back to look at me directly. “I told them I was already with someone, so they spent the next few minutes trying to convince me to…ditch?…whomever I was with and join them. It was a rather interesting conversation.”

“You could’ve just told them to go away.” I’d seen that cold, don’t-bother-me-or-I’ll-kill-you glare. No one in their right mind would continue pestering the Ice prince once that chilling gaze was turned on them.

“That wouldn’t have been very gentlemanly.” Ash sounded amused. “And it was advantageous for me to have them stay. There was enough glamour in that one corner to choke a dragon. Isn’t that why we’re here?”

“Oh.” Relief and embarrassment colored my face. “Right. It is. I just thought…never mind. I’ll shut up now.”

Ash looked down at me, cocking his head with a puzzled frown. “What exactly are you accusing me of, Meghan Chase?”

“I wasn’t accusing.” I hid my face in his shirt, mumbling through the cool fabric. “I just thought…with how easy it is to manipulate human emotions…that you, I don’t know. Might find something more interesting than me.”

Wow, that had come out stupid and psycho possessive. My face burned even more. I kept my head down so he wouldn’t see my crimson cheeks, and I wouldn’t have to see his reaction either.

“Ah.” Ash brushed my cheek with the back of his hand, catching a loose strand of hair between his fingers. “I’ve seen thousands of mortal girls,” he said softly, “more than you could ever count, from all corners of your world. To me, they’re all the same.” His finger slid below my chin, tilting my head up. “They see only this outer shell, not who I really am, beneath. You have. You’ve seen me without the glamour and the illusions, even the ones I show my family, the farce I maintain just to survive. You’ve seen who I really am, and yet, you’re still here.” He brushed his thumb over my skin, leaving a trail of icy heat. “You’re here, and the only dance I want is this one.”

My heart skipped a beat. His nearness was overwhelming, his face and lips just inches away. We stared at each other, and I could see the hunger in his eyes. I trembled in anticipation, my lips aching to touch his, but a flicker of regret crossed his face and he silently drew back, ending the moment. Sighing, I laid my head against his shirt, my entire being buzzing with thwarted hope, a heavy disappointment settling in my chest. I heard his heart thudding against my cheek, and felt him tremble, too.

“Since we’re on the subject,” Ash murmured after a few minutes of silent dancing, as our hearts and minds composed themselves, “you never answered my question.”

He sounded uncharacteristically unsure. I shifted in his arms and looked up, meeting his gaze. “What question?”

His eyes were deep gray in the dim light. Glamour shimmered around him, heavy in the air and in the dreams of those around us. For just a moment, the illusion of the human boy dancing with me wavered, revealing an unearthly faery with silver eyes, glamour pouring off of him in waves. Compared to the suddenly plain human dancers surrounding us, his beauty was almost painful.

“Do you love him?”

My breath caught. For the barest of seconds, I thought he meant Scott, but of course that wasn’t right. There was only one person he could mean. Almost against my will, I glanced behind me, through the swaying crowd of dancers, to where Puck stood at the edge of the light. His arms were crossed, and he was watching us with narrowed green eyes.

My heart skipped a beat. I turned back, feeling Ash’s gaze on me, my mind spinning several directions at once. Tell him no, it whispered. Tell him Puck is just a friend. That you don’t feel anything for him.

“I don’t know,” I whispered miserably.

Ash didn’t say anything. I heard him sigh, and his arms tightened around me, pulling us closer together. We fell silent again, lost in our own thoughts. I closed my eyes, wanting time to freeze, wanting to forget about the scepter and the faery courts and make this night last forever.

But of course, it ended much too soon.

As the last strains of music shivered across the gym floor, Ash lowered his head, his lips grazing my ear. “We have company,” he murmured, his breath cool on my skin. I opened my eyes and looked around, peering through the heavy glamour for invisible enemies.

A pair of slitted golden orbs stared at me from a table, floating in midair above the flowery centerpiece. I blinked, and Grimalkin appeared, bushy tail curled around himself, watching me. No one else in the room seemed to notice a large gray cat sitting in the middle of the table; they moved around and past him without a single glance.

Puck met us at the edge of the dance floor, indicating he’d seen Grimalkin too. Casually, we walked up to the table, where Grimalkin had moved on to grooming a hind leg. He glanced up lazily as we approached.

“Hello, Prince,” he purred, regarding Ash through half-lidded eyes. “Nice to see you are not evil…well…you know. I assume you are here for the scepter, as well?”

“Among other things.” Ash’s voice was cold; fury rippled below the surface, and the air around him turned chilly. I shivered. He didn’t just want the scepter; he was out for revenge.

“Did you find anything, Grim?” I asked, hoping the other students wouldn’t notice the sudden drop in temperature. Grimalkin sneezed once and stood, waving his tail. His gold eyes were suddenly serious.

“I think you had best see this for yourself,” he replied. Leaping off the table, he slipped through the crowds and out the door. I took one last look around the gym, at my old classmates and teachers, feeling a twinge of sadness. I’d probably never see them again. Then Puck caught my gaze with his encouraging smile, and we followed Grimalkin out the doors into the night.

Outside, it was bitingly cold. I shivered in my thin gown, wondering if Ash’s mood could spread to the entire district. Ahead of us, Grimalkin slipped around a corner like a furry ghost, barely visible in the shadows. We followed him down the corridors, past numerous classrooms, and into the parking lot, where he stopped at the edge of the sidewalk, gazing out over the blacktop.

“Oh, my God,” I whispered. The entire lot—pavement, cars, the old yellow bus in the distance—was covered with a fine sheeting of white powder that sparkled under the moonlight. “No way. Is that…snow?” I bent and scooped up a handful of the white drifts. Wet, cold and crumbly. It couldn’t be anything else. “What’s going on? It never snows here.”

“The balance is off,” Ash said grimly, gazing around the alien landscape. “Winter is supposed to hold the power right now, but with the scepter gone, the natural cycle is thrown off. So you get events like this.” He gestured to the snowy parking lot. “It will only get worse, unfortunately.”

“We have to get the scepter back now,” I said, looking down at Grimalkin. He gazed back calmly, as if snow in Louisiana was perfectly normal. “Grim, did you and Ironhorse find anything yet?”

The cat made a great show of licking his front paw. “Perhaps.”

I wondered if Ash and Puck ever felt the urge to strangle him. Apparently, I wasn’t asking the right questions. “What did you find?” Puck asked, and Grimalkin finally looked up.

“Maybe the scepter. Maybe nothing.” He flicked his paw several times before continuing. “But…there is a rumor on the streets of a great gathering of Iron fey in a factory in downtown San Jose. We located it, and it looks abandoned, so perhaps Virus has not gathered her army yet.”

“Where’s Ironhorse?” I asked.

Ash narrowed his eyes.

“I left him at the factory,” Grimalkin said. “He was ready to charge in, but I convinced him I would return with you and Goodfellow. He is still there, for all I know.”

“You left him alone?”

“Is that not what I just said, human?” Grimalkin narrowed his eyes at me, and I gave the boys a panicked look. “I suggest you hurry,” he purred, looking out over the parking lot. “Not only is Virus gathering a great army of Iron fey, but I do not think Ironhorse will wait very long. He seemed rather eager to charge in by himself.”

“Let’s go,” I said, glancing at Ash and Puck. “Ash, are you all right for this? Will you be able to fight?”

He regarded me solemnly and made a quick gesture with his hand. The glamour fell away, the tuxedo dissolving into mist, as the human boy disappeared and the Unseelie prince took his place, his black coat swirling around him.

I looked back at Puck and saw his tux replaced with his normal green hoodie. He gave me a once-over and grinned. “Not exactly dressed for battle, are you, Princess?”

I looked down at my gorgeous dress, feeling a pang of regret that it would probably be ruined before the night was out. “I don’t suppose I have time to change,” I sighed.

“No.” Grimalkin twitched an ear. “You do not.” He shook his head and glanced skyward. “What time is it?”

“Um…I don’t know.” I’d long given up wearing a watch. “Almost midnight, I think. Why?”

He appeared to smile, which was rather eerie. “Just sit tight, human. They will be here soon.”

“What are you talking…” I trailed off as a cold wind whipped across the parking lot, swirling the snow into eddies, making them dance and sparkle over the drifts. The branches rattled, an unearthly wailing rising over the wind and trees. I shivered, and saw Ash close his eyes.

“You called Them, caith sith?”

“They owed me a favor,” Grimalkin purred, as Puck glanced nervously at the sky. “We do not have the time to locate a trod, and this is the fastest way to travel from here. Deal with it.”

“What’s going on?” I asked, as both Ash and Puck moved closer, tense and protective. “Who’d he call? What’s coming?”

“The Host,” Ash murmured darkly.

“What…” But at that moment I heard a great rushing noise, like thousands of leaves rustling in the wind. I looked up and saw a ragged cloud moving toward us at a frightening speed, blotting out the sky and stars.

“Hang on,” Puck said, and grabbed my hand.

The black mass rushed toward us, screaming with a hundred voices. I saw dozens of faces, eyes, open mouths, before it was upon us, and I cringed back in fear. Cold, cold fingers snatched at me, bearing me up. My feet left the ground in a rush, and I was hurtling skyward, a shriek lodging in my throat. Icy wind surrounded me, tearing at my hair and clothes, numbing me to all feeling except a small spot of warmth where Puck still held my hand. I closed my eyes, tightening my grip as the Host bore us away into the night.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO Ironhorse’s Choice

I don’t know how long the Host carried us through the sky, screeching and wailing in their unearthly voices. I don’t know if they had trods that let them move between worlds, if they could bend space and time, or if they just flew really, really fast. But what should have been hours felt like only minutes before my feet hit solid ground and I was falling forward.

Puck’s grip on me tightened, jerking me to a halt before I could fall over. I clutched his arm to regain my balance, looking around dizzily.

We stood on the outskirts of an enormous factory. Across a bright parking lot, lit with neat rows of glowing streetlamps, a huge glass, steel and cement monstrosity loomed at the edge of the pavement. Though the lot was empty, the building itself didn’t look damaged in any way: no smashed windows, no graffiti streaking the sides. I caught glimpses of things moving along the walls, flashes of blue light, like erratic fireflies. A moment later, I realized they were gremlins—hundreds, if not thousands of them—scuttling over the factory like ants. The blue lights were the glow of their fangs, hissing, shrieking and baring teeth at each other. A chill ran through me, and I shivered.

“A gremlin nest,” Grimalkin mused, watching the swarm curiously. “Leanansidhe said the gremlins congregate in places that have a lot of technology. It makes sense Virus would come here, too.”

“I know this place,” Ash said suddenly, and we all looked at him. He was gazing at the plant with a small frown on his face. “I remember Virus talking about it when I…when I was with her.” The frown grew deeper, and a shadow crept over his face. He shook it off. “There’s supposed to be a trod to the Iron Kingdom inside.”

Puck nudged my arm and pointed. “Look at that.”

I followed his finger to a sign at the front of the building, one of those big marble slabs with giant glowing words carved into it. “SciCorp Enterprises,” I muttered, shaking my head.

“Coincidence?” Puck waggled his eyebrows. “I think not.”

“Where’s Ironhorse?” I asked, looking around.

“This way,” Grimalkin said, trotting along the edge of the parking lot. We followed, the boys slightly blurred at the edges, telling me they were invisible to humans, and me in my very conspicuous prom dress and heels that were so not useful for raiding a giant factory, or even walking down a sidewalk. To my right, cars zoomed past us on the street; a few slowed down to honk at me or whistle, and my cheeks burned. I wished I could glamour myself invisible, or at least have had time to change into something less cumbersome.

Grimalkin led us around the factory, skirting the edges of the sidewalk, to a drainage ditch that separated one lot from the other. At the bottom of the ditch, oily black water pooled from a massive storm drain, trickling through the weeds and grass. Bottles and cans littered the ground, glinting in the moonlight, but there was no sign of Ironhorse.

“I left him right here,” Grimalkin said. Looking around briefly, he leaped to a dry rock and began shaking his paws, one by one. “We appear to be too late. It seems our impatient friend has already gone inside.”

A deep snort cut through the air before I could panic. “HOW FOOLISH DO YOU THINK I AM?” Ironhorse rumbled, bending low to clear the rim of the pipe. He was in his more human form, as there was no way he could have fit his real body inside. “THERE WAS A PATROL COMING, AND I WAS FORCED TO HIDE. I DO NOT BREAK THE PROMISES I GIVE.” He glared at Grimalkin, but the cat only yawned and started washing his tail.

Ash stiffened, and his hand went casually to his sword hilt. I didn’t blame him. Barring his brief stint with Virus, the last Ash had seen of Ironhorse, he was dragging us to Machina in chains. Of course, Ironhorse was wearing a different form now, but you had only to look closely to see the huge, black iron monster that lurked beneath the surface.

I switched to the problem at hand, not oblivious to the dark look he was receiving from Ash. “We’re sure Virus is in there?” I asked, subtly moving between them. “So, how are we going to get inside, especially with the gremlins crawling all over the building?”

Ironhorse snorted. “THE GREMLINS WILL NOT BOTHER US, PRINCESS. THEY ARE SIMPLE CREATURES. THEY LIVE FOR CHAOS AND DESTRUCTION, BUT THEY ARE COWARDLY AND WILL NOT ATTACK A POWERFUL OPPONENT.”

“I’m afraid I have to disagree,” Ash said, a dangerous edge to his voice now. “You yourself lead an army of gremlins in Machina’s realm, or have you forgotten? They don’t attack powerful opponents? I seem to recall a wave of them trying to tear me apart in the mines.”

“That’s right,” I echoed, frowning. “And what about the time the gremlins kidnapped me and hauled me off to meet you? Don’t tell me the gremlins aren’t dangerous.”

“NO.” Ironhorse shook his head. “LET ME CLARIFY. BOTH TIMES, THE GREMLINS WERE UNDER MACHINA’S COMMAND. LORD MACHINA WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO COULD CONTROL THEM, THE ONLY ONE THEY EVER LISTENED TO. WHEN HE DIED, THEY REVERTED TO THEIR NORMAL, FERAL STATE. THEY ARE NO THREAT TO US, NOW.”

“What about Virus?” Puck asked.

“VIRUS SEES THEM AS VERMIN. EVEN IF SHE COULD CONTROL THEM, SHE WOULD RATHER LET HER DRONES DO THE WORK THAN STOOP TO DEALING WITH ANIMALS.”

“Well, this should be easy, then.” Puck smirked. “We’ll just stroll in the front door, waltz up to Virus, grab the scepter, have some tea and save the world before breakfast. Silly me, thinking it would be hard.”

“What I think Puck is trying to say,” I said, shooting Puck a frown, “is—what will we do about Virus when we find her? She’s got the scepter. Isn’t it supposed to be powerful?”

“Don’t worry about that.” Ash’s voice raised the hairs on my neck. “I’ll take care of Virus.”

Puck rolled his eyes. “Very nice, Prince Cheerful, but there is one problem. We have to get inside first. How do you propose we do that?”

“You’re the expert.” Ash glanced at Puck, and his mouth twitched into a smirk of his own. “You tell me.”

Grimalkin sighed and rose, his tail lashing his flanks. “The hope of the Nevernever,” he said, eyeing each of us disdainfully. “Wait here. I will check the place out.”

HE HADN’T BEEN GONE LONG when Puck stiffened and Ash jerked up, his hand going to his sword. “Someone’s coming,” he warned, and we scrambled into the ditch, my gown catching on weeds and jagged pieces of glass. Sloshing into the pipe, I grimaced as the cold, filthy water soaked my shoes and dress. At this rate, it wouldn’t survive the night.

Two figures marched past our hiding spot, dressed in familiar black armor with spines growing from the shoulders and back. The faint smell of rot and putrefying flesh drifted into the tube at their passing. I stifled a cough and put my hand over my nose.

“Rowan’s Thornguards,” Ash murmured grimly as the pair moved on. Frowning, Puck peeked over his shoulder.

“Wonder how many are in there?”

“I’d guess a few squads at least,” Ash replied. “I imagine Rowan wanted to send his best to take over the realm.”

“You are right,” Grimalkin said, suddenly materializing beside us. He perched on a cinder block so as not to touch the water, keeping his tail straight up. “There are many Thornguards inside, along with several Iron fey and a few dozen human drones. And gremlins, of course. The factory is crawling with them, but no one seems to pay them much attention.”

“Did you see Virus or the scepter?” I asked.

“No.” Grimalkin sat down, curling his tail tightly around his feet. “However, there are two Thornguards stationed at a back door who will not let anyone past.”

At Virus’s name, Ash narrowed his eyes. “Can we fight our way through?”

“I would not advise it,” Grimalkin replied. “It appears some of them are using iron weapons—steel swords and crossbows with iron bolts and such. It would only take one well-placed shot to kill you.”

Puck frowned. “Fey using iron weapons? You think Virus has them all bugged?”

“Something far worse, I’m afraid.” Ash’s face was like stone as he stared at the factory. “I was forced into service. Virus didn’t give me a choice. The Thornguards are acting on their own. Like Rowan. They want to destroy the Nevernever and give it to the Iron fey.”

Puck’s eyebrows shot up. “The hell? Why?”

“Because they think they can become like Virus,” I replied, thinking back to what Edgebriar had said, remembering the crazed, doomed look in his eye. “They believe it’s only a matter of time before Faery fades away entirely. So the only way to survive is to become like the Iron fey. They wear a metal ring beneath their gloves to prove their loyalty, and because they think it will make them immune to the effects. But it’s just killing them slowly.”

“Huh. Well, that’s…absolutely horrifying.” Puck shook his head in disbelief. “Still, we have to get in there somehow, iron weapons or no. Can we glamour ourselves to look like them?”

“It won’t hold up against all the iron,” Ash muttered, deep in thought.

“I might have a better idea,” Grimalkin said. “There are several glass skylights on the roof of the factory. You could map the layout of the building from there, maybe even see where Virus is.”

That sounded like a good idea. But… “How do we get up there?” I asked, staring at the looming glass-and-metal wall of the factory. “Puck can fly, and I’m sure Ash can get up there, but Ironhorse and I are a little more earthbound.”

Grimalkin nodded sagely. “Normally, I would agree. But tonight, it seems the Fates are on our side. There is a window cleaner’s platform on the far side of the building.”

EVEN WITH Ironhorse’s assurance that the gremlins wouldn’t bother us, we approached with extreme caution. The memory of being kidnapped by the gremlins, their sharp claws digging into my skin, their freaky, maniacal laughter and buzzing voices, still burned hot in my mind. One had even lived in my iPod before it was broken, and Machina had used it to communicate with me even within the borders of Arcadia. Gremlins were sneaky, evil, little monsters, and I didn’t trust them one bit.

Fortunately, our luck seemed to hold as we made our way around the back of the factory. A small platform hovered over the ground, attached to a pulley system that climbed all the way up to the roof. The wall was dark, and the gremlins were absent, at least for now.

Grimalkin hopped lightly onto the wooden platform, followed by Ash and Puck, being careful not to touch the iron railings. Ash pulled me up after him, and then Ironhorse clambered aboard. The wooden planks creaked horribly and bent in the middle, but thankfully held firm. I prayed the entire thing wouldn’t snap like a matchstick when we were three stories in the air.

Puck and Ironhorse each grabbed a rope and began drawing the platform up the side of the building. The dark, mirrored walls reflected a strange party back at us: a cat, two elf-boys, a girl in a slightly tattered gown, and a monstrous black man with glowing red eyes. I contemplated how strange my life had become, but was interrupted by a soft hiss overhead.

A gremlin crouched on the pulleys near the top of the roof, slanted eyes glowing in the dark. Spindly and long limbed, with huge batlike ears, it flashed me its razor-blue grin and let out a buzzing cry.

Instantly, gremlins started appearing from everywhere, crawling out of windows, scuttling along the walls, swarming over the roof to peer at us. A few even clung to the pulley ropes or perched on the railings, staring at us with their eerie green gaze. Ash pulled me close, his sword bared to slash at any gremlin who ventured near, but the tiny Iron fey didn’t make any move to attack. Their buzzing voices filled the air, like radio static, and their vivid grins surrounded us with a blue glow as we continued to inch up the wall, unhindered.

“What are they doing?” I whispered, pressing closer to Ash. He held me protectively with one arm, his sword between us and the gremlins. “Why are they just staring at us? What do they want? Ironhorse?”

The lieutenant shook his head. “I DO NOT KNOW, PRINCESS,” he replied, sounding as mystified as I felt. “I HAVE NEVER SEEN THEM ACT IN THIS MANNER BEFORE.”

“Well, tell them to go away. They’re creeping me out.”

A buzz went through the gremlins surrounding us, and the swarm began to clear. Crawling back along the walls, they disappeared through the windows, squeezed into the cracks or scrambled back over the roof. As suddenly as they’d appeared, the gremlins vanished, and the wall was dark and silent again.

“Okay.” Puck cast wary looks all around us. “That was…weird. Did someone release gremlin repellant? Did they just get bored?”

Ash sheathed his sword and released me. “Maybe we scared them off.”

“Maybe,” I said, but Ironhorse was staring at me, his crimson eyes unfathomable.

Grimalkin reappeared, scratching his ear as if nothing had happened. “It does not matter now,” he said, as the platform scraped up against the roof. “They are gone, and the scepter is close.” He yawned and blinked up at us. “Well? Are you just going to stand there and hope it flies into your hands?”

We crowded off the platform onto the roof of the factory. The wind was stronger here, tugging at my hair and making my gown snap like a sail. I held on to Ash as we made our way across the roof. Far below and all around us, the city sprawled out like a glittering carpet of stars.

Several raised glass skylights sat in the middle of the roof, emitting a fluorescent green glow. Cautiously, I edged up to one and peered down.

“There,” Ash muttered, pointing to a mezzanine twenty or so feet above the floor, and maybe thirty feet below us. Through the glass, I could pick out a blur of poison-green amid the stark grays and whites, surrounded by several faeries in black armor. Virus walked to the edge of the overhang and gazed out over a crowd of assembled fey, ready to give a speech, I supposed. I saw Thornguards and wiremen and a few green-skinned men in business suits, along with several fey I didn’t recognize. The scepter pulsed yellow-green in Virus’s hands as she swept it over her head, and a muffled roar went through the crowd.

“Okay, so we found her,” Puck mused, pressing his nose against the glass. “And it looks like she hasn’t gathered her whole army quite yet, which is nice. So, how do we get to her?”

Ash made a quiet noise and drew back.

“You don’t,” he muttered. “I will.” He turned to face me. “For all she knows, I’m still under her control. If I can get close enough to grab the scepter before she figures out what happened—”

“Ash, no. That’s way too dangerous.”

He gave me a patient look. “Anything we try will be dangerous. I’m willing to take that risk.” His hand came up, fingers brushing the spot where Puck had stabbed him. “I’m still not completely recovered. I won’t be able to fight as well as I normally do. Hopefully, I can fool Virus long enough to get the scepter from her.”

“And then what?” I demanded. “Fight your way out? Against those masses? And Virus? What if she knows you don’t have the bug anymore? You can’t expect to—” I stopped, staring at him, as something clicked in my head. “This isn’t about getting the scepter, is it?” I murmured, and he looked away. “This is about killing Virus. You’re hoping to get close enough to stab her or cut off her head or whatever, and you don’t care what happens next.”

“What she did to me was bad enough.” Ash’s silver eyes glittered as he turned back, cold as the moon overhead. “What she made me do, I will never forgive. If I am discovered, I will at least create a big enough distraction for you to slip in and grab the scepter.”

“You could die!”

“It doesn’t matter now.”

“It does to me.” I stared at him in horror. He really meant it. “Ash, you can’t go down there alone. I don’t know where this fatalistic crap is coming from, but you can stop it right now. I’m not going to lose you again.”

“SHE IS RIGHT.”

We looked up. Ironhorse stood on the other side of the glass, watching us. His eyes glowed red in the darkness. “IT IS TOO DANGEROUS. FOR YOU.”

I frowned. “What are you talking—”

“PRINCESS.” Abruptly, he bowed. “IT HAS BEEN AN HONOR. WERE THINGS DIFFERENT, I WOULD GLADLY SERVE YOU UNTIL THE END OF TIME.” He looked to Ash and nodded, as it suddenly dawned on me what he was implying. “SHE THINKS THE WORLD OF YOU, PRINCE. PROTECT HER WITH YOUR LIFE.”

“Ironhorse, don’t you dare!”

He whirled and took off, oblivious to my cries for him to stop. My heart clenched as he approached the second skylight, and I watched helplessly as he gathered himself and jumped…

The glass exploded as he crashed into it, shattering into a million sparkling pieces. Gasping, I looked through the skylight to see the glittering shards rain down on the crowd below. Screaming and snarling, they looked up, covering their eyes and faces as the massive iron horse smashed into their midst with a boom that shook the building. Roaring, Ironhorse reared up, blasting flame from his nostrils, steel hooves flailing in deadly arcs.

The room erupted into chaos. Once they recovered from their shock, Thornguards and wiremen surged forward to attack, flinging themselves at Ironhorse, ripping and clawing.

“We have to get down there!” I cried, rushing toward the broken skylight only to have Ash catch my arm.

“Not that way,” he said, pulling me back to the unbroken window. “The distraction has already been launched. We cannot help him now. Our target is Virus and the scepter. You should stay here, Meghan. You have no magic and—”

I yanked my arm from his grip. “You did not just bring that excuse up again!” I snarled, and he blinked in surprise. I glared at him. “Remember what happened the last time you went off without me? Get this through your stubborn head, Ash. I’m not staying behind and that’s final.”

One corner of his mouth twitched, just a little. “As you wish, Princess” he said, and glanced at Puck, who was leering at us both. “Goodfellow, are you ready?”

Puck nodded and leaped onto the skylight. I scowled at them both and clambered onto the glass, ignoring Puck’s hand to help me up. “How do you expect us to get down there?” I demanded as I clawed myself upright. “Go right through the window?”

Puck snickered. “Glass is a funny thing, Princess. Why do you think ancient people put salt along windowsills to keep us out?” I looked down and saw Virus directly below us, shouting and waving the scepter above her head, her attention riveted on the battle and Ironhorse.

Ash leaped onto the skylight, drawing his sword as he did. “Look after Meghan,” he said, as glamour began shimmering around both him and Puck. “I’ll take care of Virus.”

“What—?” I started, but Puck suddenly swept me into his arms. I was so surprised I didn’t have time to protest.

“Hold on tight, Princess,” he murmured, as a shimmer went through the air around us, and we dropped straight through the glass like it wasn’t there.

We plummeted toward the overhang, a shriek escaping my throat, but it was swallowed up in the chaos between Ironhorse and the rest of the fey. Ash dropped toward Virus like an avenging angel, his coat flapping in the wind, sword bared and gleaming as he raised it over his head.

At the last moment, one of the Thornguards surrounding Virus glanced up, and his eyes got huge. Drawing his sword, he gave a shout of warning, and amazingly, Virus whirled and looked up. Ash’s blade slashed down in a streak of blue and met the Scepter of the Seasons as Virus swept it up to block him.

There was a flash of blue and green light and a hideous screech that echoed through the room and caused every eye to turn to the pair on the overhang. Sparks flew between the ice blade and the scepter, bathing the combatants’ faces in flickering lights. Virus looked rather shocked to be facing her former soldier; Ash’s mouth was tight with concentration as he bore down on her with his sword.

Puck set me down—I didn’t even remember landing—and leaped between the Thornguards as they rushed up with drawn swords. Grinning, he threw himself at the guards, daggers flashing in the hellish light coming from Ash’s blade and the scepter.

Then Virus started to laugh.

I felt a surge of cold iron glamour, and she shoved Ash away, pushing him back in a flash of green. He recovered immediately, but before he could rush her again, Virus retreated, stepping off the mezzanine to float several feet in the air. Her poisonous green eyes found me and she smiled.

“Well.” She sniffed and cast bemused glances at the chaos spread at her feet. Ironhorse, surrounded by Iron fey, still kicked and raged at them, though his struggles were growing weaker. More Thornguards came rushing up the steps, but these held crossbows with iron bolts, pointed right at us. Ash and Puck drew back so that they were standing between me and the guards, who had us surrounded in a bristly black ring.

“Meghan Chase. You are full of surprises, aren’t you?” Virus smiled at me. “I’ve no idea how you managed to free the Winter prince from my bug, but it doesn’t matter now. The armies of the false king are ready to march on Summer and Winter. Once they have taken the Nevernever and killed off the oldblood rulers, it will be our turn. We will overrun their armies and kill the false king before he has a chance to savor his victory. Then, the Nevernever will belong to m—”

She didn’t have a chance to finish. Ash drew back and hurled a flurry of ice daggers at her face, taking her by surprise. She flinched, holding up the scepter; there was a flash of green light and a surge of power. The icicles shattered, bursting apart before they reached her. With angry shouts, the crossbow men released their quarrels even as Virus screamed at them to stop.

The deadly storm of iron bolts flew toward us. I could feel them sailing through the air, Matrix style, leaving distorted ripples in their wake. Without thinking, I turned and flung out my hand. I didn’t think how crazy it was, that at such close range the bolts would rip right through me like I was paper. That we would all most certainly die, peppered by lethal darts that could kill even if they weren’t made of iron. I wasn’t thinking of anything as I spun and gestured sharply, feeling a surge of electricity beneath my skin.

A ripple went through the air. The bolts flew to either side of us, thunking into the walls and pinging off metal beams to clatter to the floor. I heard Iron fey shriek as they were hit, but not one of the half-dozen bolts touched us.

The Thornguards gaped. Ash and Puck stared at me as if I had grown another head. I shivered violently, trembling from the strange cold glamour that writhed under my skin and buzzed in my ears.

“Impossible.” Virus spun slowly to face me, her face draining of color. She shook her head, as if trying to convince herself. “You cannot be the one. A weakling human girl? You’re not even one of us. It’s a mistake, it must be!”

I had no idea what she was talking about, but it didn’t seem to matter. Virus started to giggle, sticking a green-tinted nail in her mouth, her laughter growing louder and more hysterical, until she stopped and glared at me with wide, crazy eyes. “No!” she screamed, making even the Thornguards flinch. “It isn’t right! I was his second! His power should have been mine!”

Her mouth opened, gaping impossibly wide, and the Thornguards backed away. Heart pounding, I pressed close to Ash and Puck, feeling their grim determination, their resolve to go down fighting no matter what. The air started to vibrate, a terrible buzzing filling the air, and Virus threw her head back. With the droning of a million bees, a huge swarm of metal bugs spiraled up from Virus’s mouth, swirling around her in a frantic glittering cloud.

Her smile was savage as she looked down at us, extending a hand from the center of the buzzing tornado. “Now, my dears,” she said, barely audible over the droning of a thousand bugs, “we will end this little game once and for all. I should have done this when I first saw you, but I had no idea you were the one I was searching for all along.”

Everything grew very still. The cold glamour still buzzed beneath my skin, and I could taste metal on the air. I looked at the swarm and saw thousands of individual bugs, but also a single creature sharing one mind, one goal, one purpose.

A hive mind, I thought impassively, not knowing why I felt so calm. Control one, and you control them all.

Vaguely, I was aware that Virus was speaking, her voice seeming to come from very far away.

“Go,” she screamed, sweeping her arm toward us. “Crawl down their throats and nostrils, into their eyes and ears and every open pore. Burrow into their brains and make them tear out their own hearts!”

The Swarm flew toward us, a furious, buzzing cloud. Ash and Puck pressed close; I felt one of them shaking but couldn’t tell who. A droning filled my ears as the Swarm approached, glowing bright with iron glamour, melded into a single massive entity.

One mind. One creature.

I threw up both my hands as the Swarm dove forward to attack, Stop!

The Swarm broke apart, swirling around us, filling the air with their deafening buzz. But they didn’t attack. We stood in the middle of the screaming hurricane, metal bugs zipping around us frantically but moving no closer.

I felt the Swarm straining against my will, fighting to get past it. I saw Virus’s face, first slack with disbelief, then white with fury. She made a violent gesture, and the Swarm buzzed angrily in response. I strengthened my hold, pouring magic into the invisible barrier, drawing glamour from the factory. My head pounded, and sweat ran into my eyes, but I couldn’t break my concentration or we’d be torn apart.

Virus smiled nastily. “I have underestimated you, Meghan Chase,” she said, rising higher into the air. “I did not think you would force me to use the scepter, but there you go. Do you know what this does, my dear?” she asked, holding it out before her. Ash looked up sharply. “It took me forever to puzzle it out, but I finally got it.” She grinned, triumphant. “It enhances the power of the one who holds it. Isn’t that interesting? So, for instance, I could make my darling bugs do this…”

The scepter glowed a sickly green, and in that light, the Swarm started to change. They swelled like ticks full of blood, becoming sharp and spiky, with long stingers and huge curved jaws. Now they were the size of my fist, a horrible cross between a wasp and a scorpion, and their wings scraped against each other like a million knives. And their minds changed, to something more savage, more visceral and predatory. I nearly lost my hold on them, and the whirlwind tightened, pressing closer to us, before I regained control and pushed them back.

Buzzing furiously, they turned on whatever living thing they could reach, including the guards surrounding us. The Thornguards screamed, reeling back and clawing at themselves as the metal bugs swarmed over them, biting and stinging, burrowing into their armor.

Virus giggled madly overhead. “Kill them!” she cried, as several bugs chewed their way into their victims, who fell thrashing and screaming to the ground. My stomach heaved, but I couldn’t look away for fear of losing control of the Swarm. I didn’t know what Virus thought she was doing until a moment later, when the Thornguards lurched to their feet again, crazed gleams in their eyes.

Raising their swords, they staggered toward us, blood pouring from their wounds and the holes in their armor, their eyes empty of reason. Ash and Puck met them at the edge of the whirlwind, and the clash of weapons joined the metallic drone of the Swarm.

We were lost. I couldn’t keep this up forever. My head throbbed so much that I felt nauseous, and my arms were shaking violently. I could feel my strength draining with the amount of glamour I was using to keep the Swarm at bay.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a Thornguard, covered in bugs, stagger to the edge of the platform and pick up a crossbow. Raising it up, he loaded an iron bolt and swung it around at me. I couldn’t move. If I dodged, the Swarm would break free and kill us. Puck and Ash were busy fighting off the other guards and couldn’t help. I couldn’t even shout a warning. In slow motion, I watched him raise the crossbow, unhindered, and take aim.

Later, I remembered the clanging footsteps charging up the steps only because they seemed so out of place. I saw Puck whirl around, saw his dagger whip out and soar end over end toward the Thornguard, just as he pulled the trigger. The dagger thunked into the guard’s chest, hurling him off the mezzanine, but it was too late. The bolt was coming toward me, and I couldn’t do anything about it.

Something huge and black lunged across my vision a split second before the bolt hit home. Ironhorse, covered in bugs and shedding chunks of iron everywhere, stumbled, fighting desperately to stay on his feet. He staggered toward the edge of the overhang, shaking his head as bugs swarmed him viciously. A hoof slipped off the edge, and he lurched sideways.

“No!” I screamed.

With a last defiant bellow and blast of flame, Ironhorse toppled from the edge, vanishing from sight. I heard his body strike the cement with a resounding boom that echoed through the building, and my vision went white with rage.

I arched my back, clenching my fists, and glamour rushed through me, exploding out in a wave. “GET BACK!” I roared at the Swarm, at Virus, at every Iron faery in the room. “Damn you all! Back off, NOW!”

The Swarm flew in every direction, scattering to all four corners of the room. The Thornguards flinched and stumbled backward; some even fell off the edge of the railing. Even Virus jerked in midair, reeling back like she had been sucker punched, her hands falling limply at her sides.

I slumped to the floor, all the strength going out of me. As the Swarm began coalescing again, buzzing angrily as they swarmed back together, and the Thornguards regained their senses, Virus put a hand to her temple and looked down at me, a smug grin stretching her blue lips.

“Well, Meghan Chase. Congratulations, you’ve managed to give me a pounding headache. But it is not enough to—aaaahhhhhh!”

She jerked, throwing up her hands as Ash launched himself off the edge of the railing and leaped at her, sword raised high. Still screaming, she tried to bring up the scepter, too late. The ice blade sliced down, through her collarbone and out the other side, cutting her clean in two.

If I wasn’t so dizzy, I might’ve puked. Virus’s halves fell away, wires and oily goo spilling from her severed body as both she and Ash dropped out of sight.

The Thornguards spasmed, then collapsed like puppets with cut strings. As I sat there, dazed by what had just happened, Puck hauled me upright and dragged me under a beam. Then it started raining insects.

The clatter of metal bugs brought me back to my senses. “Ash,” I muttered, struggling to free myself. Puck wrapped his arms around me and held me to his chest. “I have to go to him…see if he’s all right.”

“He’s fine, Princess,” Puck snapped, tightening his grip. “Relax. He knows enough to get out of the rain.”

I relented. Closing my eyes, I leaned into him, resting my head on his chest as the bugs clattered around us like glittering hail. He hugged me close, muttering something about Egyptian plagues, but I wasn’t listening. My head hurt, and I was still trying to process everything that had just happened. I was so tired, but at least it was over. And we had survived.

Or, most of us had.

“Ironhorse,” I whispered as the rain of bugs finally came to an end. I felt Puck tense. Freeing myself from his arms, I stumbled across the mezzanine, taking care to avoid the dead bugs and Thornguards, and groped my way down the stairs. I didn’t know what I’d find, but I was hopeful. Ironhorse couldn’t be dead. He was the strongest of us all. He might be terribly hurt, and we’d have to find someone to put him back together, but Ironhorse was near invincible. He had to have survived. He had to.

I’d almost convinced myself not to worry when Ash stepped out from beneath the overhang and stood at the foot of the stairs, gazing up at me. His sword was sheathed, and in one hand, the Scepter of the Seasons pulsed with a clean blue light.

For a long moment, we stared at each other, unwilling to break the silence, to voice what we both were thinking. I wondered if Ash would take the scepter and leave. Our contract was done. He had what he came for; there was no reason for him to stick around any longer.

“So.” I broke the silence first, trying to quell the tremor in my voice, the stupid tears that pressed behind my eyes once more. “Are you leaving now?”

“Soon.” His voice was calm but tired. “I’ll be returning to Winter, but I thought I would pay my respects to the fallen before I go.”

My stomach dropped. I looked behind him and saw, for the first time, the pile of mangled iron in the shadows of the mezzanine. With a gasp, I lurched down the rest of the stairs, pushed past Ash, and half ran, half stumbled to where Ironhorse lay surrounded by dead bugs and the smoking remains of Virus.

“Ironhorse?” For a split second, I thought I saw Grimalkin there, sitting at his head. But I blinked back tears and the image was gone. Ironhorse lay on his side, heaving with great raspy breaths, the fires in his belly burning low. One of his legs was shattered, and huge chunks of his body had been ripped away. Pistons and gears were scattered around him like broken clockwork.

I knelt beside his head, putting a shaking hand on his neck. It was cold, and his once burning red eyes were dim, flickering erratically. At my touch, he stirred, but didn’t raise his head or look at me. I had a horrid suspicion he couldn’t see any of us.

“Princess?”

Hearing his voice, so small and breathy, almost made me burst into tears. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, feeling Puck and Ash press behind me, gazing over my shoulder.

“No.” The red in his eyes dimmed to tiny pinpricks, and his voice dropped to a whisper. I had to strain to hear him. “It was…an honor…” He sighed one last time, as the tiny spots of light flickered once, twice. “…my queen.” And he was gone.

I closed my eyes and let the tears come. For Ironhorse, who had never wavered, never once compromised his beliefs or convictions. Who had been an enemy, but chose to become an ally, a guardian and, ultimately, a friend. I knelt on the cold tile and sobbed, unembarrassed, as Puck and Ash looked on gravely, until the faint rays of dawn began seeping through the broken skylights.

“Meghan.” Ash’s quiet voice broke through my grieving. “We should go.” His tone was gentle but unrelenting. “The Iron King’s army is ready to march. We have to return the scepter. There’s not much time left.”

I sat up and wiped my eyes, cursing the damned faeries and their eternal war. It seemed there was never enough time. Time to dance, or talk, or laugh, or even mourn the passing of a friend. Slipping off my corsage, I laid it on Ironhorse’s cold metal shoulder, wanting him to have something natural and beautiful in this lifeless place. Goodbye, Ironhorse. Ash held out a hand, and I let him pull me to my feet.

“Where to now?” I sniffled.

“The Reaping Fields,” answered a familiar voice, and Grimalkin appeared, perched several feet away on a cardboard box. He gingerly batted a metal bug off the surface, where it pinged to the floor, before continuing. “All the major battles between the courts have been fought on those plains. If I were looking for the armies of Summer and Winter, that is where I would go.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“I did not say I was sure, human.” Grimalkin twitched his whiskers at me. “I only said that is where I would look. Also, I am not coming with you.”

Somehow, this didn’t surprise me. “Why not? Where are you going this time?”

“Back to Leanansidhe’s.” Grimalkin yawned and stretched, arching his tail over his back. “Now that we are done here, I will inform her that Virus is dead, and that the scepter is on its way back to the Winter Court. I am sure she will want to hear about your success.” The cat turned, waving his tail in farewell. “Until next time, human.”

“Grim, wait.”

He paused, looking back with unblinking golden eyes.

“What did Ironhorse promise you, that made you come along?”

He flicked his tail. “It is not for you to know, human,” he replied, his voice low and solemn. “Perhaps you will find out, someday. Oh, and if you do make it to Reaping Field, look for a friend of mine. He still owes me a favor. I believe you have met him before.” And with that cryptic message, he leaped off the box and wove gracefully through the scattered hordes of fey and metal bugs. Trotting behind a beam, he disappeared.

I looked at the boys. “How will we get to Reaping Field?”

Ash held up the scepter. It throbbed with icy blue light, sparkling like it was made of crystal, as I’d first seen it back in Tir Na Nog. “I’ll use the scepter to open a trod,” he murmured, turning away. “Stand back.”

The scepter flared, filling the room with cold, making my breath steam. The air around us shimmered, as though a veil had been dropped over everything. A hazy circle opened up in front of Ash; beyond it, I saw trees and earth and the foggy twilight of the wyldwood.

“Go,” Ash told us, his voice slightly strained.

“Come on, Princess. This is our stop.” Puck gestured at the portal, waiting for me to go through. I turned and cast one final look at Ironhorse’s body, lying cold on the cement, and blinked back tears.

Thank you, I told him silently, and stepped through the circle.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE Reaping Fields

The wyldwood was in chaos. Wind and hail whipped around me as I stumbled off the trod, screaming through the branches and pelting me with shards of ice. Green lightning streaked overhead, slashing through massive clouds that roiled and churned above us, shaking branches and stirring debris into violent whirlwinds. Gouts of snow intermingled with the rain, gathering in mounds and drifts and then scattered by the wind. A violet-skinned piskie went hurtling by, caught in a savage tailspin, until she vanished into the trees.

“Dammit.” Puck appeared behind me, crimson hair flying in all directions. He had to shout to be heard. “They started the war without us. I had an invitation, too.”

Ash stepped through the circle, and it closed behind him. “Reaping Field is close.” He raised his head to the wind, closing his eyes, and his brow furrowed. “The fighting is well underway. I can smell the blood. Follow me.”

We hurried through the forest, Ash in front leading the way, the scepter a bright blue glow against the dark of the wyldwood. Around us, the storm raged and howled, and thunder boomed overhead, shaking the ground. My shoes sank into the mud, and my gown snagged on a dozen thorns and branches that tore through the fabric and ripped what remained to shreds.

Finally, the trees fell away, leaving us staring over a vast, icy gulley flanked by rugged hills, their tops disappearing into the clouds. A frozen river snaked its way through the boulder-studded valley, coiling lazily around the ruins of an ancient castle in the center of the plains.

From here, the armies of Summer and Winter looked like swarming ants, a huge, chaotic blur of motion and color. Roars and screams filled the air, rising above the howl of the wind. Ranks of soldiers clashed against one another in a somewhat disciplined fashion, while other groups bounded across the field, ricocheting from one fight to the next, joyfully hurling themselves into the fray. Giant shapes lumbered through the masses, swinging and crushing, and swarms of flying creatures attacked from the air. It was a colossal, violent, crazy free-for-all that would be suicide to go through.

I gulped and looked to Ash and Puck. “We’re going through that, aren’t we?”

Ash nodded. “Look for Oberon or Mab,” he said grimly, scanning the battlefield. “They’ll likely be on opposite sides of the river. Try not to engage anything, Goodfellow. We don’t want a fight—we just want to get the scepter to the queen.”

“Don’t kid yourself, Prince.” Puck grinned and drew his daggers, pointing to Ash with the tip. “You’re a traitor, Meghan’s the Summer princess, and I’m Robin Goodfellow. I’m sure the ranks of Unseelie will just let us waltz right through.”

And then, a shadow fell over us, and a blast of wind nearly knocked me down. Ash shoved me away as a huge, winged lizard landed where I’d stood in an explosion of snow and rock. The creature hissed and shrieked, beating tattered wings and churning the ground with two clawed forelegs. Its scales were a dusty brown, its yellow eyes vicious and stupid. A long, muscular tail whipped the air behind it, a wicked, gleaming barb on the end. Hissing, it stepped between me, Ash and Puck, separating us with its body, coiling its tail over its back like a massive scorpion.

A rider sat between the creature’s shoulder blades, his white armor pristine and shining, not a drop of blood on him.

“Rowan!” I gasped.

“Well, well.” The older prince sneered at me from the back of his lizard mount. “Here you are again. The wayward princess and our traitor prince. Don’t move, Ash,” he warned, shooting his brother a dark look. “One tiny move, and Thraxa will snap up your beloved half-breed faster than you can blink. You don’t want to lose another girl to wyvern poison, do you?”

Ash already had his sword out, but at Rowan’s threat he paled and shot me a haunted look. I saw the desperation in his eyes before he lowered his blade and stepped back.

“Good boy. This will be over soon, don’t worry.” Rowan raised his fist, and a dozen Thornguards emerged from the trees, weapons drawn, trapping us between them and Rowan. “It shouldn’t be long now,” the older prince smiled. “Once the courts are done tearing each other to pieces, the Iron King’s armies will sweep in, and everything will be over.

“But first,” he continued, turning to glare at Ash, “I’ll need that scepter. Hand it over, little brother.”

Ash tensed, but before he could do anything, Puck stepped between us, an evil grin stretching his face. “Come and get it,” he challenged. Rowan looked over and sneered.

“Robin Goodfellow,” he smiled. “I’ve heard so much about you. You’re the reason Ariella is dead, aren’t you?” Puck frowned, but Rowan went on without pause. “A pity Ash won’t ever take his revenge, but believe me when I say this will be a pleasure. Thraxa,” he ordered, sweeping his arm contemptuously toward Puck. “Kill.”

The wyvern hissed and snaked its head down, baring needle sharp fangs. It was frighteningly quick, like a viper, and its jaws snapped shut over Puck’s head.

I gasped, but Puck exploded in a swirl of leaves, leaving the wyvern blinking and confused. As it drew back, huffing and scanning the ground for its victim, a huge black raven swooped out of the trees, aiming right for its face. With a screeching caw, the bird sank its talons into the side of the wyvern’s head and plunged its sharp beak into the slitted yellow eye.

The wyvern reared back with a scream, beating its wings and shaking its head, trying to dislodge the bird that clung to it. Rowan, nearly thrown from the saddle, cursed and yanked at the reins, trying to regain control, but the wyvern was panicked now, screeching and thrashing about in anguish. I ducked beneath the monster and ran to Ash, who caught me in an almost desperate hug, even as he kept his eyes on Rowan. I felt his heart racing beneath his coat.

The raven hung on, jabbing and clawing, until black ichor spattered the wyvern’s face and the eye was a popped, useless mess. With a caw of triumph, it broke away and swooped back to us, changing to Puck in an explosion of feathers. He was still laughing as he rose to his feet, drawing his weapons with a flourish.

“Kill them!” Rowan screamed, as his mount decided it had had enough, and leaped skyward. “Kill them all and get that scepter! Don’t let them ruin everything!”

“Stay back,” Ash told me as the Thornguards started forward, closing their deadly half circle. There were a lot of them, seeming to melt out of the trees and bramble, more than I first thought. My eyes fell on Ash, holding both the scepter and his sword in a double-weapon stance. Could I just take the scepter and run? I shot a quick glance down the slope, into the valley, and my heart went cold with fear. No way. There was no way I’d get through that churning mass alive.

Lightning flickered, bright and eerie, and between one flash and the next, a white creature appeared at the edge of the slope. At first, I thought it was a horse. Only it was smaller and more graceful than any I’d seen before, more deer than equine, with a lion’s tail and cloven hooves that barely touched the ground. Its horn spiraled up between its ears, beautiful and terrible at the same time, destroying any preconceived notions I had of the word unicorn. It regarded me with eyes as ancient as the forest, and I felt a shiver of recognition, like a memory from a dream, but then it was gone.

Grimalkin sent me. The voice whispered in my head, soft as a feather’s passing. Hurry, Meghan Chase. With a toss of its head, the unicorn turned and vanished down the slope. In that moment, I knew what I had to do.

That whole encounter seemed to have taken place in an instant. When I turned back to the boys, they were still waiting for the Thornguards, who approached slowly, as if they knew we weren’t going anywhere. “Ash,” I murmured, placing a hand on his arm. “Give me the scepter.”

He shot me a look over his shoulder. “What?”

“I’ll get it to Mab. Just hold them off until I can get across the field.” Ash stared at me, his expression torn. I closed my hand over the scepter, gritting my teeth as the cold burned like fire. “I can do this.”

“Hey, Prince,” Puck called over his shoulder, “uh, you can join in anytime, now. Whenever you’re ready.”

A shriek echoed over the valley, and a dark shape wheeled toward us on leathery wings. Rowan was coming back.

“Ash!” The Thornguards were almost upon us, and Ash still held the scepter tightly. Desperately, I met his eyes, saw the indecision there, the doubt, and the fear that he was sending me to my death. “Ash,” I whispered, and put my other hand over his, “you have to trust me.”

He shivered, nodded once, and released his grip. Clutching the scepter, I backed away, holding his worried gaze as the Thornguards got closer and the wail of the wyvern echoed over the trees. “Be careful,” he said, a storm of emotion in those two simple words. I nodded breathlessly.

“I won’t fail,” I promised.

The Thornguards charged with a roar. Ash spun toward them, blade flashing, as Puck gave a whooping battle cry and plunged into their midst. Feeling the scepter burn in my hands, I turned and fled down the slope.

The unicorn waited at the bottom of the hill, almost invisible in the mist, its horn more real than the rest of it. My heart pounded as I approached. Even though the unicorn stood perfectly still, watching me, it was akin to walking up to a tiger that was tame and friendly, but still a tiger. It could either kneel and lay its head in my lap, or explode into violence and skewer me with that glimmering horn. Thankfully it did neither, standing motionless as a statue as I walked up close enough to see my reflection in its dark eyes. What do I say? Do I have to ask permission to get on its back?

A piercing wail rent the air above us, and the shadow of the wyvern passed overhead. The unicorn jumped, flattening its ears, trembling with the effort not to bolt. Screw it, I don’t have time! As the wyvern’s howl rang out again, I heaved myself awkwardly onto the unicorn’s back and grabbed its mane.

As soon as I was settled, the unicorn made a fantastic leap over the rocks and landed at the edge of the icy field, making my stomach lodge in my throat. For a moment, it hesitated, looking this way and that, trying to find an easier way in. A red-eyed hound sprang at us with a snarl, tongue lolling. The unicorn leaped nimbly aside, lashing out with its hooves. I heard a crack and a yelp, and the hound fled into the mist on three legs.

“There’s no time to go around!” I yelled, hoping the unicorn could understand me. “Mab is on the far side of the river! We have to go straight through!”

A bellow sounded behind us. I glanced back to see the wyvern dive from the slope and glide toward the ground, straight for us. I saw Rowan on the wyvern’s back, sword drawn, his furious gaze fixed on me, and my stomach clenched in terror. “Go!” I shrieked, and with a desperate whinny, we plunged into the heart of the battle.

The unicorn bounded through the chaos, dodging weapons, leaping over obstacles, moving with terrifying speed. My hand gripped the mane so hard that my arms shook; the other hand burned with the scepter. Around us, Summer and Winter fey tore and slashed at each other, screaming in fury, pain and pure, joyful bloodlust. I caught flashes of the battle as we sped through. A pair of trolls pounded stone clubs into a swarm of goblins, their shoulders and backs bristling with spears. A trio of redcaps dragged a wailing sylph from the air, ignoring the razor edge of her dragonfly wings, and buried her under their stabbing knives. Seelie knights in green and gold armor clashed swords with Unseelie warriors, their movements so graceful it looked like they were dancing, but their unearthly beauty was twisted with hate.

The roar of the wyvern sounded directly above us, and the unicorn leaped aside so quickly I nearly lost my seat. I saw the wyvern’s hooked, grasping talons slam into a dwarf, and the bearded man screamed as he was torn away and lifted into the air, struggling weakly. The wyvern soared upward, and I watched in horror as it dropped the still struggling dwarf to the rocks below. Wheeling in a lazy circle, it came for us again.

My mount started weaving, a frantic, zigzag pattern that jostled me from side to side and made me sick with fear. I pressed my knees into the unicorn’s sides so hard that I felt its ribs through my gown. The wyvern wavered in the air, confused, then dove with another chilling wail. My nimble steed dodged once more, but this time the wyvern passed so close I could’ve slapped its claws with the back of my hand.

We were in the middle of the field, still nowhere near the river, when the unicorn went down.

The fighting was thicker in the center of the battleground, where soldiers from both sides clashed together over the dead and the dying. The unicorn darted between the crowds, seeming to know exactly when a hole would open up, slipping through without slowing down. But Rowan was still on our tail. As the unicorn dodged the wyvern’s pass for the third time, a huge, rocklike monster reared up from beneath the snow, swiping at us with a massive club. It clipped the unicorn’s front legs, and the graceful animal collapsed with a shrill whinny. I went flying off its back and hit a snowbank with a landing that drove the air from my lungs.

Dazed, I lay there as the world spun like a carousel, flickering in and out of view. Blurred, shadowy figures raged around me, screaming, but the sounds were muffled and distorted, coming from a great distance away.

Then the white shape of the unicorn reared up, pawing the air, slashing with its horn, before it was pulled under the black mass. I pushed myself to my knees, calling out to it, but my arms shook, and I collapsed, sobbing in frustration. Once more, the unicorn reared up, its white coat streaked with crimson, several dark things clinging to its back. I cried out, crawling forward desperately, but with a shrill cry, the unicorn disappeared into the churning mass once more. This time, it didn’t resurface.

As I gasped for breath, fighting tears, something wet and slimy dripped onto my arm. I looked up into the warty face of a goblin, its crooked teeth slick with drool as it grinned at me, flicking a pale tongue over its lips.

“Tasty girl dead yet?” it asked, poking my arm with the butt of its spear.

I lurched upright. Nausea surged through me and the ground twirled. I concentrated on not passing out. The goblin scuttled back with a hiss, then edged forward again. I frantically gazed around for a weapon, and saw the scepter, lying in the snow a few feet away.

The goblin grinned, raising its spear, then vanished under several tons of wyvern as the monstrous lizard landed on it with a boom that shook the ground, sending snow flying. Roaring, it reared back to strike, and I lunged for the scepter.

My hand closed over the rod, and a jolt of electricity shot up my arm. I felt the wyvern’s hot breath on my neck and rolled back, bringing up the scepter. In that split second, I saw the gaping, tooth-filled maw of the wyvern fill my whole vision, and the scepter in my hand glowing, not blue or gold or green, but a pure, blinding white.

Lightning shot from the rod, slamming into the wyvern’s open mouth. The blast flung the lizard’s head back, filling the air with the stench of charred flesh. At the same time, I felt something inside me break, like a hammer striking glass, shattering into a million pieces. Sound, color and emotion flooded my mind, a bottled-up wave of glamour pouring outward, and I screamed.

A pulse ripped through the air, flying outward. It knocked the nearest fighters off their feet and continued, spreading across the field. Fighting a wave of dizziness, I staggered to my feet, swaying like a drunk sailor in a torn and filthy gown. I couldn’t see Mab or Oberon through the indistinct shadows around me, but I did see hundreds of glowing eyes, shining blades and bared teeth, ready to tear me apart. I certainly had everyone’s attention now.

The scepter pulsed in my hand. Gripping the handle, I raised it over my head. A flickering light spilled over the crowd, making them mutter and draw back.

“Where is Queen Mab?” I called, my voice reedy and faint, barely rising above the howl of the wind. No one answered, so I tried again. “My name is Meghan Chase, daughter of Lord Oberon. I am here to return the Scepter of the Seasons.” I hoped someone told Mab quickly; I didn’t know how much longer I could stay conscious, much less speak in coherent sentences in front of the queen.

Slowly, the crowd parted, and the air around us dropped several degrees, making my breath steam before my face. Mab came through the crowd on a huge white warhorse, her gown trailing behind her, her hair unbound and flowing down her back. The horse’s hooves didn’t quite touch the ground, and great gouts of steam billowed from its nostrils, wreathing the Winter Queen in a ghostly halo of fog. Her lips and nails were blue, her eyes as black as a starless night as she peered down at me.

“Meghan Chase.” The queen’s voice was a hiss, her perfect features terrifyingly blank. Her gaze flicked to the rod in my hand, and she smiled, cold and dangerous. “I see you have my scepter. So, is the Summer Court finally admitting their mistake?”

“No,” came a strong voice before I could answer. “The Summer Court had nothing to do with stealing the scepter. You are the one who jumped to conclusions, Lady Mab.”

And Oberon was there, sweeping through the crowd on a golden-bay stallion, flanked by a squad of elven knights. His faery mail glittered emerald and gold, bright links woven around protrusions of bark and bone, and an antlered helm rose above his head.

I felt a surge of relief at seeing him, but it shriveled when the Erlking looked at me, his green eyes cold and remote. “I told you before, Queen Mab,” he said, speaking to Mab but still glaring at me, “I knew nothing of this, nor did I send my people to steal the scepter from you. You have started a war with us over a false pretense.”

“So you say.” Mab gave me a predatory smile, making me feel like a trapped rabbit. “But, it seems the Summer Court is still at fault, Erlking. You might have known nothing of the scepter, but your daughter admits her guilt by trying to return what is mine, hoping perhaps, that I will be merciful. Is that not correct, Meghan Chase?”

I noticed crowds of both Winter and Summer fey edging back from the rulers, and wished I could do the same. “No,” I blurted out, feeling the glare of both rulers burning holes through my skull. “I mean…no, I didn’t steal it.”

“Lies!” Mab leaped from her warhorse and stalking toward me. The mad gleam was back, and my stomach contracted in fear. “You are a filthy human, and all you speak is lies. You turned Ash against me. You made him fight his own brother. You fled Tir Na Nog and sought sanctuary with the exile Leanansidhe. Is this not true, Meghan Chase?”

“Yes, but—”

“You were in the throne room when my son was murdered. Why did they let you live? How did you survive, if it was not the Summer Court behind it all?”

“I told you—”

“If you did not steal the Scepter of the Seasons, who did?”

“The Iron fey!” I shouted, as my temper finally snapped. Not the smartest move, but I was hurt, dizzy, exhausted, and could still see the body of Ironhorse, sprawled lifelessly on the cement, the unicorn torn apart before my eyes. After everything we’d done, everything we’d gone through, to have some faery bitch accuse me of lying was the last straw. “I’m not lying, dammit!” I screamed at her. “Stop talking and just listen to me! The Iron fey stole the scepter and killed Sage! I was right there when it happened! There’s an army of them out there, and they’re getting ready to attack! That’s why they stole the scepter! They wanted you to kill each other before they came in and wiped out everything!”

Mab’s eyes went glassy and terrifying, and she raised her hand. I figured I was dead. You don’t shout at a faery queen and expect to walk away scot-free. But Oberon finally stepped forward, interrupting Mab before she could turn me into a Popsicle. “Hold, Lady Mab,” he said in a low voice. The Winter Queen turned her mad, killing glare on him, but he faced her calmly. “Just a moment, please. She is my daughter, after all.” He gave me a measuring look. “Meghan Chase, please return the scepter to Lady Mab, and let us be done with this.”

Gladly. I approached Mab and held out the scepter in both hands, anxious to be rid of the stupid thing. For all its power, it seemed such a small, trivial item, to cause so much hate and confusion and death. For a moment, the Winter Queen stared at me, her features cold and blank, letting me sweat. Finally, and with great dignity, she reached out and took the scepter, and a great sigh of relief spread across the battlefield. It was done. The Scepter of the Seasons was back where it belonged, and the war was over.

“Now, Meghan Chase,” Oberon said as the ripple died down, “why don’t you tell us everything that happened?”

So I did, summarizing as best I could. I told them about Tertius stealing the scepter and killing Sage. I told them about the Thornguards, and how they wanted to become Iron fey themselves. I described Grimalkin leading us through the Briars, and how we met Leanansidhe, who agreed to help us. And finally, I told them about Virus, her plans to invade the Nevernever, and how we were able to track her down and get the scepter back.

I left out the parts with Ironhorse. Despite his help and noble sacrifice, they would only see him as the enemy, and I didn’t want to be accused of guilt by association. When I was done, an incredulous silence hung in the air, and for a moment only the wind could be heard, howling over the plains.

“Impossible.” Mab’s voice was chilly, but it had lost the crazy edge, at least. My handing over the scepter seemed to placate her for now. “How did they get into the palace, and out again, without anyone seeing them?”

“Ask Rowan,” I shot back, and a mutter went through the ranks of surrounding fey. “He’s working with them.”

Mab went absolutely still. Goose bumps rose along my arms as ice began creeping over the ground, snapping and crinkling, spreading out from the feet of the Winter Queen. When she spoke, her voice was soft, almost a whisper, but it scared me more than when she was crazy and shouting. “What did you say, half-breed?”

I glanced at Oberon, but he looked disbelieving, as well. I could feel his patience and support wearing thin; if I was going to accuse a son of Mab’s of treason, I’d better be able to prove it. Else he wouldn’t be able to protect me much longer.

“Rowan is working with the Iron fey,” I repeated, as the ice spread around me, sparkling in the snow. “Him and the Thornguards. They…they want to become like them, immune to iron. They think—”

“Enough!” Mab’s shriek made everyone but Oberon flinch. “Where is your proof, half-breed? Do not expect me to accept these blasphemous claims without proof—you are a human and can lie so easily! You say my son has betrayed his court and kin, to side with these iron abominations that none have seen? Very well! Show me proof!” She pointed a finger at me, eyes narrowed in triumph. “If you have none, you are guilty of slandering the royal family, and I will punish you as I see fit!”

“I don’t—” But the sounds of a struggle interrupted us. The crowds shifted, looking around, then stepped out of the way as a trio of faeries came through. Ash and Puck, bleeding, grim faced and dirty, dragging the spiky frame of a Thornguard between them. Staggering into the circle, they threw the faery at Mab’s feet.

Panting, Puck straightened, wiping blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. “There’s your proof.”

Oberon raised an eyebrow. “Goodfellow,” he said, and that one word sent shivers down my spine and made Puck wince. “What is the meaning of this?”

Mab smiled. “Ash,” she purred, but it wasn’t a friendly greeting. “What a surprise to find you here, in the company of the Summer girl and Robin Goodfellow. Would you care to add anything more to your list of crimes?”

“My queen.” Ash stood before Mab, breathing heavily, his expression bleak and resigned. “The princess speaks the truth. Rowan is a traitor to us. He sent his elite guard to bolster the armies of the Iron fey, he allowed them access into the palace, and he is responsible for the death of Prince Sage. Were it not for Robin Goodfellow and the Summer princess, the scepter would be lost, and the armies of the Iron King would overwhelm us.” Mab narrowed her eyes, and Ash stepped back, nodding to the moaning Thornguard. “If you doubt my word, my queen, just ask him for the truth. I’m sure he would be happy to tell you everything.”

“Screw it,” Puck snapped, stalking past me. “Or you could just do this.”

He pounced on the guard, driving his knee into the faery’s armored chest. The Thornguard’s arms came up to protect himself, and Puck grabbed one of his gauntlets, ripping the glove away and holding up his wrist.

The sharp tang of metal filled the air, and the circle of curious onlookers leaped back with cries of horror. The Thornguard’s entire hand was blackened and shriveled, the skin flaking off like ash. And on his long, gnarled finger, the iron ring gleamed brightly against the withered flesh.

“There!” Puck snapped, throwing the arm down and stepping away. “That proof enough for you? Every one of these bastards has one of those rings on, and it’s not a fashion statement. If you want more proof, check the brambles at the top of the hill. We left this one alive to explain his little coup ambitions to his queen.”

Mab turned her cold, cold gaze on the Thornguard, who cringed and started babbling.

“My queen, I can explain. Rowan ordered us to. I was acting on his command. He said it was the only way to save us. Please, I never wanted to…please, no!”

Mab gestured. There was a flash of blue light, and ice covered the guard, encasing him in frozen crystal. He drew a breath for one last scream, but the ice closed over his face and smothered it. I shivered and looked away.

“He will tell me everything later.” Mab smiled coldly, speaking more to herself than to us. “Oh, yes. He will be begging to tell me.” She looked up, her eyes as terrible as her voice. “Where is Rowan?”

As the crowds began muttering and looking around, I glanced over at the dead wyvern lying several yards away, smoke still curling from its open mouth. I shivered and turned away, already knowing the answer. Rowan was gone. They wouldn’t find him in the Nevernever; he would flee to the Iron fey, continuing his quest to become like them.

After a long moment, it became clear that Rowan was no longer on the field. “Lady Mab,” Oberon said, drawing himself up. “In light of this newest revelation, I propose a temporary truce. If the Iron King does plan to attack us, I’d prefer to meet him with my forces strong and ready. We will speak on this later, but for now I will be taking my people back to Arcadia. Meghan, Goodfellow.” He nodded to us stiffly. “Come.”

I looked at Ash, and he gave me a faint smile. I saw the relief on his face. But Mab wasn’t about to let me go just yet. “Not so fast, my dear Oberon,” she purred, and the smug satisfaction in her voice made my skin crawl. “I believe you are for getting something. The laws of our people apply to your daughter, as well. She must answer for turning my son against me.” Mab pointed the scepter at me as angry murmurs went through the crowd. “She must be punished for tricking him into helping her escape Tir Na Nog.”

“That wasn’t Meghan’s decision.” Ash’s deep voice cut through the muttering. I looked at him sharply and shook my head, but he ignored me. “It was mine. I made the choice. She had nothing to do with it.”

Mab turned to him, and her gaze softened. Smiling, she crooked a finger, and he approached at once, never wavering, though his hands were clenched at his sides. “Ash,” Mab crooned as he drew near. “My poor boy. Rowan told me what happened between the two of you, but I know you had your reasons. Why would you betray me?”

“I love her.”

Softly, and without hesitation, as if he’d already made up his mind. My heart turned over and I gasped, but it was lost in the ripple of horror and disbelief that went through the crowd. Whispers and muttering filled the air; some faeries snarled and hissed, baring their teeth, as if they wanted to mob Ash, but kept their distance from the queen.

Mab didn’t look surprised, though the smile curling her lips was as cold and cruel as a blade. “You love her. The half-breed daughter of the Summer lord.”

“Yes.”

I ached for him, my stomach twisting painfully. He looked so desolate standing there alone, facing a mad queen and several thousand angry fey. His voice was flat and resigned, as if he’d been pushed into a corner and had given up, not caring what happened next. I started to go to him, but Puck grabbed my arm, his green eyes solemn as he shook his head.

“Ash.” Mab placed a palm on his cheek. “You’re confused. I can see it in your eyes. You didn’t want this, did you? Not after Ariella.” Ash didn’t reply, and Mab drew back, regarding him intently. “You know what comes next, don’t you?”

Ash nodded once. “I swear an oath,” he whispered, “never to see her again, never to speak to her again, to sever all relationships and return to the Winter Court.”

“Yes,” Mab whispered back, and a sick despair tore at my heart. If Ash spoke those words, it would be over. A faery couldn’t break a promise, even if he wanted to. “Swear the oath,” Mab continued, “and all is forgiven. You can come back to Tir Na Nog. Return to the palace, and take your place as heir to the throne. Sage is gone, and Rowan is dead to me.” Mab placed a kiss on Ash’s cheek and stepped back. “You are the last prince of Winter. It is time to come home.”

“I…” For the first time, Ash hesitated. His gaze met mine, bright and anguished, begging forgiveness. I choked on a sob and turned away, my throat aching with misery, not wanting to hear the words that would take him from me forever.

“I can’t.”

Silence fell over the field. Puck stiffened; I could feel his shock. Biting my lip, I turned back, hardly daring to believe. Ash faced Mab calmly, the queen staring at him with a terrible, blank expression on her face. “Forgive me,” Ash murmured, and I heard the faintest of tremors beneath his voice. “But I can’t…I won’t…give her up. Not now, when I’ve just found her.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. Breaking away from Puck, I started toward Ash. I couldn’t let him do this alone. But Oberon stepped in front of me, holding out his arm, as unmovable as a mountain. “Do not interfere, daughter,” Oberon said in a voice meant only for me. “This is between the Winter prince and his queen. Let the song play to its conclusion.”

Distraught, I looked back to Ash. Mab had gone very still, a beautiful, deadly statue, the ground beneath her coated with ice. Only her lips moved as she stared at her son, the air around them growing colder by the second. “You know what will happen, if you refuse.”

If Ash was afraid, he didn’t show it. “I know,” he said in a weary voice.

“Their world will eat at you,” Mab said. “Strip you away bit by bit. Cut off from the Nevernever, you will not survive. Whether it takes one mortal year or a thousand, you will gradually fade away, until you simply cease to exist.” Mab stepped closer, pointing at me with the scepter. “She will die, Ash. She is only human. She will grow old, wither and die, and her soul will flee to a place you cannot follow. And then, you will be left to wander the mortal world alone, until you yourself are only a memory. And after that—” the queen opened her empty fist “—nothing. Forever.”

Ash didn’t react, but I felt the queen’s words punch me in the stomach. Bile rose in my throat. How could I be so blind and stupid? Grimalkin had told me once that faeries banished from the Nevernever would die, that they would fade away until nothing was left. Tiaothin had told me that in the Winter palace, when I was trying to ignore her. I’d known all along, but refused to believe. Or perhaps I just hadn’t wanted to remember.

“This is your final chance, Prince.” Mab stepped back, her voice stiff and icy, like she was talking to a stranger. “Give me your solemn vow, or be damned to the mortal world forever. Make your choice.”

Ash looked at me. I saw pain in his eyes, and a little regret, but they shone with such emotion I felt breathless. “I already have.”

“So be it.” If Mab’s voice was cold before, it was in the sub-zero range now. She waved the scepter and, with a sharp crack, a rip appeared in the air. Like ink spreading over paper, it widened into a jagged archway. Beyond the arch, a flickering streetlamp glimmered, and rain pounded the road, hissing. The smell of tar and wet asphalt drifted through the opening. “From this day forth,” Mab boomed, her voice carrying over the field, “Prince Ash is considered a traitor and an exile. All trods will be closed to him, all safe holds are barred, and if he is seen anywhere within the Nevernever, he is to be hunted down and killed immediately.” She looked at Ash, fury and contempt curling her lips. “You are not my son. Get out of my sight.”

Ash stepped back. Without a word, he turned and walked toward the archway, shoulders back and head high. At the edge of the trod, he hesitated, and I saw a shadow of fear cross his face. But then his expression hardened, and he swept through the door without looking back.

“Ash, wait!”

Darting around Oberon, I rushed for the trod. Faeries hissed and snarled, and Puck yelled for me to stop, but I ignored them all. As I approached Mab, her lips curled in a cruel smile and she stepped back, giving me a clear shot at the open trod.

“Meghan Chase!”

Oberon’s voice cracked like a whip, and a roar of thunder shook the ground. I stumbled to a halt a few feet from the doorway, so close that I could see the road and darkened street, the blurry outline of houses through the rain.

The Erlking’s voice was ominously quiet, and his eyes glowed amber through the gently falling snow. “The laws of our people are absolute,” Oberon warned. “Summer and Winter share many things, but love is not one of them. If you make this choice, daughter, the trods will never open for you again.”

My stomach dropped. There it was. Oberon would banish me from the Nevernever, as well. For a split second, I almost laughed in his face. This wasn’t my home. I hadn’t asked to be half-fey. I’d never wanted to be caught up in their problems, or their world. Let him exile me; what did I care?

Don’t kid yourself, I thought with a sudden sick feeling in my gut. You love this world. You risked everything to save it. Are you really going to walk away and forget it ever existed?

“Meghan.” Puck stepped forward, pleading. “Don’t do this. I can’t follow you this time. Stay here. With me.”

“I can’t,” I whispered. “I’m sorry, Puck. I do love you, but I have to do this.” His face clouded with pain, and he turned away. Guilt stabbed at me, but in the end, the choice had always been clear.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered again to Puck, to Oberon, to everyone, and turned back to the doorway. I don’t belong here. Not really. Time to wake up and go home for real.

“Are you sure, Meghan Chase?” Oberon’s voce was cold, remorseless. “Walk out of Faery with him now, and you’re never coming back.”

Somehow, the ultimatum made it that much easier.

“Then I’m never coming back,” I said softly, and went through the arch, leaving Faery behind me forever.