The Iron Knight

CHAPTER SIX THE SEER

I stared at the figure before me, hardly able to wrap my mind around it. It looked like Ariella, sounded like her. Even after all these years, I knew the exact lilt of her voice, the subtlest tilt of her head. But … it wasn’t her. It couldn’t be. This was a trick, or perhaps a memory, brought to life by the depth of emotion around us. Ariella was dead. She had been for a long time.

“No,” I whispered, shaking my head, trying desperately to regain my scattered wits. “This … this isn’t real. You’re not real. Ariella is … gone.” My voice broke, and I shook my head angrily. “This isn’t real,” I repeated, willing my heart to believe it. “Whatever you are, leave this place. Don’t torment me further.”

The robed figure glided forward, coils of mist parting for her as she came toward me. I wanted to move, to draw back, but my body wasn’t working right anymore. I might as well have been frozen, helpless, as the thing that looked like Ariella drew very close, so close I could see the flecks of silver in her eyes, smell the faint scent of cloves that had always surrounded her.

Ariella gazed at me a moment, then raised one pale, slender hand and laid it—cool and solid—against my cheek.

“Does this feel like a memory, Ash?” she whispered as my breath hitched and my knees nearly buckled. I closed my eyes, unwilling to hope, to have it ripped from me once more. Taking my limp hand, Ariella guided it to her chest and trapped it there, so I could feel the heartbeat under my fingers. “Does this?”

Disbelief crumbled. “You’re alive,” I choked out, and she smiled at me, a sad, painful smile that held all the years of loss and despair I knew so well. Her grief had been just as fierce, just as consuming, as mine. “You’re alive,” I whispered again, and pulled her to me.

Her arms slid around my waist, drawing us even closer, and she breathed my name. I held her fiercely, half-afraid she would dissolve into mist in my arms. I felt her heartbeat, thudding against mine, listened to her breath on my cheek, and felt the centuries-old grief dissolving, melting like frost in the sunlight. I could barely believe it; I didn’t know how it could be, but Ariella was alive. She was alive. The nightmare was finally over.

It seemed like an eternity before we finally pulled back, but my shock was no less severe. And when she looked at me with those star-flecked eyes, my mind still had trouble accepting what was right in front of me. “How?” I asked, unwilling to let her go just yet. Wanting—needing—to feel her, solid and real and alive, pressed against me. “I watched you die.”

Ariella nodded. “Yes, it wasn’t a very pleasant experience,” she said, and smiled at my bewildered expression. “There are … a lot of things that need explaining,” she continued, and a shadow darkened her face. “I have so much to tell you, Ash. But not here.” She slid back, out of my arms. “I have a place not far from here. Go collect Robin Goodfellow, and then I can tell you both.”

A strangled noise interrupted us. I turned to see Puck standing several yards away, staring at Ariella with an open mouth. His green eyes were wider than I’d ever seen them.

“I’m … seeing things,” he stammered, and his gaze flickered to me. For just a moment, I saw hope flare in their depths. “Ash? Tell me you see her, too.”

Incredibly, Ariella smiled at him. “Hello, Puck. It’s good to see you again. And, no … you’re not seeing things. It’s really me.” She held up her hand as Puck took a breath. “I know you both have many, many questions, but this is not the place to ask them. Follow me, and then I will try to explain everything.”

NUMBLY, I COLLECTED MY SWORD from where I’d flung it discourteously into the briars, and we followed Ariella through the mist and brambles, her spectral form gliding through the fog like a ghost. Each time the mist coiled around her pale figure, my heart twisted in fear, certain that when the tendrils pulled away she would be gone. Behind me, Puck was silent; I knew he was just as dazed, trying to come to terms with what we had just seen and heard. I was still reeling from the shock, from questions that swirled maddeningly in my head, and Puck was the last person I wanted to talk to.

We trailed Ariella through a thick hedge, where the mist cleared away and the briars formed a protective wall around a snowy glen. Glamour filled the tiny space, creating the illusion of gently falling snow, of icicles that hung on branches and a chill in the air, but not everything was fantasy. A clear pool glimmered in the center of the clearing, and a lone elder tree stood beside it, its branches heavy with purple berries. Shelves full of jars, dried plants and simple bone tools had been worked into the bramble, and a narrow bed stood beneath an overhang of woven thatch and ice.

Ariella walked over to a shelf and brushed imaginary dust from between two jars, seeming to collect her thoughts. I gazed around the clearing in wonder. “Is … is this where you live?” I asked. “All this time, you’ve been here?”

“Yes.” Ariella took a deep breath and turned around, smoothing back her hair. She’d always done that when she was nervous. “Sit, if you want.” She gestured to an old log, rubbed smooth and shiny with use, but I couldn’t bring myself to sit. Neither could Puck, apparently.

“So, how long have you been here, Ari?” he asked, and I instantly bristled at the casual use of his old nickname for her. He had no right to speak to her as if nothing had happened. As if everything was all right now. “Have you been here since … that day? All alone?”

She nodded, smiling tiredly. “It’s not the Winter palace by any means, but I make do.”

Irritation boiled over into real anger now. I tried to stifle it, but it rose up anyway as the blackest years of my existence seemed to descend on me all at once. She had been here all along, and never thought to see me, to let us know she was still alive. All those years of fighting, killing, all for nothing. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I demanded, and she winced as though she’d been expecting that question.

“Ash, believe me, I wanted to—”

“But you didn’t.” I stalked over to the elder tree, because I couldn’t remain motionless any longer. Her gaze followed me as I whirled back, gesturing to the glade. “You’ve been here for years, Ari, and you never came back, never made any attempt to see me again. You let me think you were dead! Why?” I was near shouting now, my composure shattered, but I couldn’t help it. “You could’ve sent word, let me know you were all right! All those years of thinking you were gone, that you were dead. Did you know what I was going through? What we both were going through?”

Puck blinked, startled that I would include him as well. I ignored him, however, still facing Ariella, who watched me sadly but offered no argument. I let my arms drop, and my anger vanished as quickly as it had come. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I whispered.

“Because, had I returned, you would have never met Meghan Chase.”

I froze at the sound of her name.

Ariella sighed, a gesture that seemed to age her a hundred years, and smoothed back her hair once more. “I’m not explaining it well at all,” she mused, almost to herself. “Let me start again, from the beginning. The day … I died.”

“I’VE ALWAYS BEEN A LITTLE BIT of a seer,” Ariella began, gazing not at me, but at the pool in the center of the glade, as if she could glimpse the future within. “Even before the … accident … I could sometimes predict things. Small things, never important. Never enough to threaten or compete with the factions at court. My father tried to use my gift to rise to power, but he soon gave up when he realized my visions never showed me anything useful.

“That day in the hollow,” she continued, her voice growing even softer, “when the wyvern struck me, something happened. I felt myself die, my essence fade, becoming part of the Nevernever. There was darkness, and then I had a dream … a vision … of the Iron fey, the chaos that would come. And then … I don’t know. I found myself waking up, alone, in the place where I died. And I knew what was coming. The Iron fey. They would destroy us, except for her.

“One girl. The half daughter of Oberon, Meghan Chase. When the time came, when the Iron King set his plans into motion at last, she would save us—if she could survive to face the challenges ahead.”

Ariella paused, smoothing back her hair, her eyes on something I could not see. “I had many visions of Meghan Chase,” she went on in a distant voice. “I saw her struggles as clearly as if they were happening to me. The future is always changing—never is there a clear path to the end, and some of the visions were terrible. I saw her die many, many times. And each time she perished, the Iron fey would overcome Faery. The Iron King triumphed in the end, darkness overtook the Nevernever, and everything we knew was destroyed.”

“But she didn’t fail,” Puck broke in. “She won. She led an army of Iron fey to the false king’s fortress, kicked down the door, turned the old geezer into a tree, and became the new queen. Because of her, the Iron fey aren’t poisoning the Nevernever anymore, as long as they stay within their territory. Definitely not the Armageddon you predicted, Ari.”

Ariella nodded. “Yes, and I saw those futures as well, Robin Goodfellow. But she was never alone. You were always there with her, you and Ash both. You kept her safe, helped her succeed. In the end, she defeated the final evil and claimed her destiny, but you were the ones who enabled her to do it. She would have died without your help.”

Ariella sighed, fiddling with the branches of the tree, her gaze distant again. “I had my own part to play, of course,” she continued hesitantly, as if the things she’d done were somehow distasteful. “I was the puppet master, pulling the strings, making sure all the pieces were in place before her arrival. I watched for the signs of her coming. I began the whispers that Leanansidhe was planning to overthrow the courts, leading to her exile. I suggested the girl have a guardian to watch over her in the mortal world. And I made sure that a certain cat would be on the lookout for the half-human daughter of the Summer King, should she happen to fall into his tree one day.”

I felt breathless, stunned. All the while I’d been venting my anger and grief against Puck, the cause of my suffering had been preparing for something far greater. And she hadn’t even been able to tell me about it.

Ariella paused then, closing her eyes, her mouth tightening. “I knew you would fall in love with her, Ash,” she whispered. “The visions showed me, years before you would see her for the first time. I wanted to go to you, to let you know that I was alive. I knew what you were going through, I heard of your oath against Puck. I wanted to tell you so badly.” Her voice wavered, making my gut twist. “But I couldn’t. I had to let you meet her, fall in love with her, become her knight. Because she needed you. And because we all needed her to succeed. I believe Faery itself brought me back to ensure the success of Meghan Chase. I couldn’t let my feelings for you stand in the way. I … I had to let you go.” She took a deep breath, and her voice hardened. “I chose to let you go.

“I knew you would come here.” Ariella faced me, the stars glittering in her turquoise eyes. “Eventually, I knew you would come. I know your quest, Ash. And I know why you’re here. You want to become human, to be mortal, so you can go back to her. But things aren’t so black-and-white now, are they? And so I will ask a question of you. I know what you must do to become mortal. But the road will be hard, and some of us might not survive it. So, this is my question. Do you still want to become human? Do you still want to be with Meghan Chase?”

I took a slow breath to calm my churning mind. I couldn’t answer, not when the love decades dead was standing not five yards away staring at me. Without a word, I turned and left the glade, back into the mist-shrouded hollow and the silence of my own thoughts. I felt Ariella’s eyes on me as I left, but she did not follow.

Alone, I stood in the place where Ariella died, the great wyvern skeleton curled around the edge, and tried to process all that had happened. She was alive. All this time, she had been alive, knowing I was out there, watching, yet unable to contact me. She had been alone for so long. It must have been horrible for her. If the situation had been reversed, and I was the one watching, knowing she would fall for another, it would have driven me insane. I wondered if she had waited for this day, the day I finally returned to this spot, hoping that we could be together again.

But there was someone else now. Someone who waited for me, who knew my True Name and commanded my loyalty. Someone I’d made a promise to.

I felt Puck’s presence at my back but didn’t turn around. “This is crazy, isn’t it?” he muttered, coming to stand beside me. “Who would’ve thought she was here all this time? If I had known …” He sighed, crossing his arms to his chest, letting his voice trail off. “Things sure would’ve turned out differently, wouldn’t they?”

“How did you know?” I asked without turning around, and felt his confused frown at my back. “How did you know I wouldn’t kill you?”

“I didn’t,” Puck said with forced cheerfulness. “I was really, really hoping you wouldn’t. That would’ve sucked a lot, I think.” He stepped closer, joining me in staring at the dead wyvern. His next words, when they came, were very soft. “So, is this thing between us finally over?”

I didn’t look at him. “Ariella’s alive,” I murmured. “I think that dissolves the oath—I no longer have to avenge her death. So, if that’s true, then … yes.” I paused, waiting to see if the words felt right, if I could say what I’d wanted to say for decades. If the words were a lie, I would not be able to speak them. “It’s over.”

It’s over.

Puck let out a sigh and let his head fall back, running his hands through his hair, a relieved grin crossing his face. I shot him a sideways glance. “That doesn’t mean we’re all right,” I warned, mostly out of habit. “Just because I’m not sworn to kill you anymore doesn’t mean I won’t.”

But it was an empty threat, and we both knew it. The relief of not having to kill Puck, being free from an oath I never wanted, was too great. I wasn’t failing anyone by letting him live. For now, the Unseelie demon inside me had been sated.

Though I’d spoken the truth when I’d said we weren’t all right. There was still too much fighting, too much anger and hate and bad blood between us. We both had years of words and actions we regretted, old wounds that went too deep. “Puck,” I said without moving, “this changes nothing between us. Don’t get too comfortable, thinking I won’t put a sword through your heart. We’re still enemies. It can’t ever be the way it was.”

“If you say so, prince.” Puck smirked, then surprised me by turning completely serious. “But right now, I think you have larger issues to deal with.” He glanced back at the glade, frowning. “Meghan and Ariella—that’s a choice I’d never want to make. What are you going to do?”

Meghan and Ariella. Both alive. Both waiting for me. The whole situation was completely surreal. Meghan was the Iron Queen, far beyond my reach. Ariella—alive, unchanged and whole—waited just a few yards away. Possibilities and what-ifs swam through my head. For just a moment, I wondered what would happen if I just stayed here, with Ariella, forever.

The pain was swift and immediate. It wasn’t stabbing, or fiery, or unbearable. More like a fraying of my inner self, a few threads tearing away, vanishing into the ether. I winced and stifled a gasp, instantly abandoning that train of thought. My vow, my promise to Meghan, was woven into my very essence, and breaking it would unravel me, as well.

“My promise still stands,” I said quietly, and the glimmering threads of pain vanished as swiftly as they’d come. “It doesn’t matter what I want, I can’t give up now. I have to keep going.”

“Promises aside, then.” Puck’s voice was harder now, disapproving. “If there was no promise, Ash, no oath that bound you, would you keep going? What would you do right now, if you were free?”

“I …” I hesitated, thinking about the paths that had brought me here, the impossible choices, and the two lives that meant everything to me. “I … don’t know. I can’t answer that right now.”

“Well, you’d better figure it out quick, prince.” Puck narrowed his eyes, his voice firm. “We’ve screwed both their lives up pretty bad. At least you can make it right for one of them. But you can’t have it both ways, you know. Pretty soon, you’re gonna have to make a choice.”

“I know.” I sighed, glancing back at the glade, knowing she watched me, even now. “I know.”

ARIELLA WAS WAITING FOR US when we returned, standing under the elder tree, talking to the empty branches. At least, it was empty until two golden eyes appeared through the leaves, blinking lazily as we came in. Grimalkin yawned as he sat up, curling his tail around his feet, and regarded us solemnly. “Made your decision, have you?” he purred, digging his claws into the branch holding him up. “Good. All this agonizing was getting rather trite. Why does it take so long for humans and gentry to choose one path or the other?”

Puck blinked at him. “Oh, let me guess. You knew Ariella was here all along.”

“Your kind does have a flair for stating the obvious.”

Ariella was watching me, her expression unreadable. “What is your decision, Ash of the Winter Court?”

I drew close enough to see her face, realizing it hadn’t changed in all the years she’d been gone. She was still beautiful, her face lovely and perfect, though there were shadows in her gaze that hadn’t been before. “You told me you knew the way to becoming mortal,” I said softly, watching for her reaction. Her eyes tightened a bit, but her expression remained neutral otherwise. “I made a promise,” I said softly. “I swore to Meghan that I’d find a way to return. I can’t walk away from that, even if I want to. I need to know how to become mortal.”

“Then it is decided.” Ariella closed her eyes for a long moment. When she spoke, her voice was low and distant, and it raised the hair on the back of my neck. “There is a place,” she murmured, “that resides at the end of the Nevernever. Beyond the Briars that surround Faery, beyond the very edge of our world, the ancient Testing Grounds have stood since the beginning of time. Here, the Guardian awaits those who would escape Faery forever, who wish to leave the world of dreams and enter the human realm. But to do so, they must endure the gauntlet. None who accepted this challenge returned sane, if they returned at all. But legend states that if you can survive the trials, the Guardian will offer the key to becoming mortal. The gauntlet will be your test, and the prize will be … your soul.”

“My … soul?”

Ariella regarded me solemnly. “Yes. A soul is the essence of humanity. It is what we lack to become mortal, and as such, we cannot truly understand humans. We were born from their dreams, their fears and imaginations. We are the product of their hearts and minds. Without a soul we are immortal, yet empty. Remembered, we exist. Forgotten, we die. And when we die, we simply fade away, as if we never existed at all. To become human is to have a soul. It is that simple.”

I glanced at Puck and saw him nodding, as if this all made sense. “All right,” I said, turning back to Ariella. “Then, I need to get to the Testing Grounds. Where are they?”

She smiled sadly. “It is not a place you can just walk to, Ash. No one who has gone to the Testing Grounds has ever survived. However …” Her eyes glazed over, becoming as distant as the stars. “I have seen it, in my visions. I can show you the way.”

“Can you?” I gave her a long, searching look. “And what would you ask in return? What would you have me swear?” I stepped closer, dropping my voice so only she could hear. “I can’t give you back the past, Ariella. I can’t promise it will be the same. There’s … someone else now.” A face rippled across my memory, different from Ariella’s; pale-haired and blue-eyed, smiling at me. “This quest, my earning a soul, is all for her.”

“I know,” Ariella replied. “I saw you together, Ash. I know what you feel for her. You always loved … so completely.” Her voice trembled, and she took a deep breath, meeting my gaze. “All I ask is that you let me help you. That’s all I want.” When I still hesitated, she bit her lip and her eyes filled with tears. “I haven’t seen you in years, Ash. I waited for this day for so long—please don’t walk out and leave me behind. Not again.”

Guilt stabbed at me, and I closed my eyes. “All right.” I sighed. “I guess I do owe you that. But, it won’t change anything, Ari. I have to keep my promise to Meghan. I won’t stop until I’ve earned a soul.”

She nodded, almost distracted. “It’s a long way to the End of the World.” Turning from me, she walked over to the shelves, her next words almost inaudible. “Anything can happen.”

CHAPTER SEVEN THE RIVER OF DREAMS

Leaving the hollow with Ariella, Puck, and Grimalkin, I was eerily reminded of another journey, one that was disturbingly similar to this. I believe the human saying was déjà vu, and it did seem strange, traveling with very nearly the same companions as before. Myself, Grimalkin, Robin Good fellow … and a girl. It was strange; not very long ago, I’d thought Meghan reminded me of Ariella, but now, watching my old love glide through the mist as she led us out of the hollow, my only reflection was how similar—and how different—Ariella was to Meghan.

I pushed those thoughts away, focusing only on the task at hand. I could not let myself be distracted from my goal. I could not start comparing the two, the love from the past and the girl I would do anything for, because if I did I would go mad.

The Wolf joined us almost as soon as we left the hollow, materializing from the darkness without a sound. He sniffed Ariella curiously and wrinkled his muzzle at her, but she gazed at him calmly, as if she had expected him. No introductions were made, and the pair seemed to accept each other without reservation.

Leaving the hollow behind, we made our way through a forest of thorn trees, bristling and unfriendly, with bits of bone, fur and feathers impaled between them. Not only were the trees covered in thorns, the flowers, the ferns, even the rocks were all pointed and barbed, making it important to watch where we put our feet. Some of the trees had taken offense to our presence, or were simply bloodthirsty, for every so often they would take a swipe at us with a gleaming, bristling branch. I noticed, with a certain annoyance, that they left the Wolf completely alone, even moving aside for him to pass before taking a swat at me if I followed. After dodging several of these assaults, I finally grew tired of the game and drew my sword. When I sliced through the next thorny limb that whipped out at my face, the trees finally left us alone. For the most part.

“What is she like?” Ariella asked suddenly, surprising me. She had been quiet up until now, wordlessly leading the way until the closeness of the thorns forced her to ease back, to let me go first with my weapon. A longbow of gleaming white wood lay strapped to her back—she had always been a deadly archer—but the only blade she carried was a dagger.

Caught off guard by her question, I blinked at her, confused and wary. “I thought you already knew.”

“I knew of the girl, yes,” Ariella replied, ducking a vine covered in thin, needlelike barbs. “But only flashes. The visions never showed me more than that.”

Behind us, Puck’s gleeful whoop rang out as he dodged an attack, followed by the rustle of several trees that continued to swipe at him as he danced around. He was obviously enjoying himself, and probably stirring the forest’s ire to even greater heights, but at least his attention was elsewhere. Grimalkin had long disappeared into the thorny undergrowth, stating he would meet us on the other side, and the Wolf’s dark form was padding ahead, so it was just me and Ariella.

Uncomfortable with her scrutiny, I turned away, hacking through a suspicious-looking branch before it could lunge at me. “She’s … a lot like you,” I admitted, as the tree rattled in outrage. “Quiet, naive, a little reckless at times. Stubborn as a—” I stopped, suddenly self-conscious, feeling Ariella’s gaze on the back of my neck. “Why are you asking me this?”

She chuckled. “I just wanted to see if you would answer. Remember how difficult it was getting any real answers out of you before? Like pulling teeth.” I grunted and continued clearing the way, and she followed close behind. “Well, don’t stop there, Ash. Tell me more about this human.”

“Ari.” I paused, as memories rose up, both blissful and painful. Dancing with Meghan. Teaching her to fight. Being forced to walk away as she lay dying beneath the limbs of a great iron oak. A root took advantage of my moment of distraction and tried to trip me, but I sidestepped and moved us both away. “I can’t … talk about it right now,” I told Ariella, whose sympathetic gaze read far too much. “Ask me again some other time.”

AS WE LEFT THE FOREST of thorns, darkness fell very suddenly, as if we’d crossed some invisible barrier into Night. One moment, we were in the perpetual gray twilight of the wyldwood and the next, it was pitch-black except for the stars. And a new sound began to filter through the silence of the forest, faint at first but growing ever stronger. A constant murmur that slowly progressed to a dull roar, until we finally emerged from the trees to stand on the banks of a great black river.

“Wow,” Puck mused, standing beside me. “The River of Dreams. I’ve only seen it a few times before, but it never ceases to amaze me.”

I agreed with him, albeit silently. The surface of the river was black as night, reflecting the star-filled sky above and stretching on and on, until you couldn’t tell where the water ended and the sky began. Moons, comets and constellations rippled on the surface, and other, stranger things floated upon the misty black waters. Petals and book pages, butter-fly wings and silver medals. The hilt of a sword stuck out of the water at an odd angle, the silver blade tangled with ribbons and spiderwebs. A coffin bobbed to the surface, covered in dead lilies, before sinking into the depths once more. The debris of human imagination, floating through the dark waters of dream and nightmare. Swarms of fireflies and will-o’-the-wisps floated and bobbed above the waves like moving stars, adding to the confusion. This was the last familiar border of the wyldwood. Beyond the river was the Deep Wyld, the vast, uncharted territory of the Nevernever, where legends and primeval myths roamed or slept, where the darkest and most ancient creatures lurked in obscurity.

The Wolf gazed across the water, calm, unruffled, almost bored. I had the feeling he had seen the River of Dreams many times before, and wondered how far downstream he had been, if he made his home in the Deep Wyld himself.

I looked at Ariella. “Where to now, Ari?”

The lights of the river reflected in her eyes, and will-o’-the-wisps darted around her, burrowing into her hair. Standing there on the riverbank, glowing and wraithlike, she looked as insubstantial as mist. Raising a pale, delicate hand, she pointed downstream.

“We follow the river. It will take us where we need to go.”

“Into the Deep Wyld.”

“Yes.”

“How far?” The River of Dreams supposedly ran forever; no one had ever been to the end of it, at least, no one who had survived to tell the tale.

Her eyes were as distant as the stars overhead. “Until we reach the edge of the world.”

I nodded. Whatever it took, I was ready, even if it was impossible. “Let’s get going, then.”

A familiar gray cat sat on a barrel half-submerged in the mud at the river’s edge, lazily swatting at fireflies that bobbed overhead. As we approached, a large wooden raft, covered in algae and trailing ribbons of weed, broke from a cluster of branches and floated toward us, unmanned. The planks were wide and sturdy, the logs holding it up thick and enormous, and it was large enough for even an enormous wolf to sit comfortably. A long wooden pole rested at the back, half-underwater.

“Oh, hey—look at that,” Puck said cheerfully, rubbing his hands together. “Seems like the river knew we were coming. I’ll drive.”

I put my arm out as he started forward. “Not a chance.”

“Psh. You never let me do anything.”

The Wolf curled his lip in distaste, eyeing the raft as if it might lunge at him. “You expect to reach the End of the World on that? Do you know the things that live in the River of Dreams? And we’re not even at the nightmare stretch yet.”

“Aw, is the Big Bad Wolfie afraid of a few nasty fish?”

The Wolf gave him a baleful stare. “You wouldn’t say that if you’d seen some of the fish in the Deep Wyld, Goodfellow. But more important, how will you ever reach the End of the World if I bite your head off?”

“It’s all right,” Ariella said quietly before we could respond. “I’ve seen us … following the river to the end. This is the way we need to go.”

The Wolf snorted. “Foolish,” he growled, but hopped lightly onto the wooden planks. The raft rocked under his weight, splashing water over the edge, but held. “Well?” He turned, glaring back at us. “Are we going to get this absurdity under way, or not?”

I helped Ariella into the boat, then stepped onto the platform near the back, grabbing the long wooden pole. As Puck entered, looking pensive, I nodded at Grimalkin, still sitting on the barrel. “You coming or not, cait sith?”

He gave the raft a dubious glance, curling his whiskers. “I suppose I must if I wish to see you to the End of the World.” Standing, he tensed his muscles to leap off the barrel, but hesitated, narrowing his eyes. “Although, I will issue this one warning. If I end up in the river because some idiot decides to rock the boat—” he flattened his ears at Puck, who gave him a wide-eyed look of innocence “—I know several witches who would be happy to bring down a particularly potent curse on said idiot’s head.”

“Wow, if I had a favor for every time someone said that to me …”

Grimalkin did not look amused. Shooting Puck one last feline glare, he leaped to the edge of the raft, walked gracefully along the edge, and sat at the bow, facing out like a haughty figurehead. I gave the pole a push, and the raft moved smoothly into the River of Dreams, gliding toward the End of the World.

FOR A WHILE, THE RIVER WAS smooth. Except for the occasional bump of dream debris colliding with the raft, we slid through the water with hardly a ripple. More strange objects floated by us: love letters and wristwatches, stuffed animals and limp balloons. Once, Puck reached down and snatched up a faded copy of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, grinned like an idiot and tossed it back into the river.

How long we floated down the river, I didn’t know. The night sky, both above and around us, never lightened. The Wolf lay down, put his head on his enormous paws and dozed. Puck and Ariella spoke quietly in the center of the raft, catching up on many years of separation. They sounded at ease with each other, comfortable and content, and Ariella’s laughter floated up occasionally, something I hadn’t heard in a long, long time. It made me smile, but I didn’t join them in reminiscing. Things were still shaky between Puck and me; I knew the dark, lingering memories of the hollow had pushed both of us to the edge that night, and we had, temporarily, put it behind us again, but I didn’t trust myself just yet. Besides, I was lost in my own thoughts. Ariella’s previous question had reminded me of the girl I was doing this for. I wondered where she was, what she was doing at that very moment. I wondered if she thought of me, too.

“Prince.” Grimalkin’s voice suddenly drifted up from near my feet. I looked down at the cait sith, standing beside me. “I suggest we stop for a bit,” he said, waving his tail to keep his balance as the raft bobbed up and down in the current. “I am weary of sitting in one place, and I am not the only one.” He nodded to where Ariella and Puck sat together on the planks. Ariella was slumped against Puck’s shoulder, dozing quietly. I felt a tiny twinge of anger, seeing them like that, but Puck glanced back at me, offered a tiny, rueful shrug, and I squashed it down. It was ridiculous to be jealous, to feel anything. That part of my life was gone. I might regret it, I might wish it were different, but I could not bring it back. I’d known that for a long time.

I steered the raft to the bank, toward a sandy bar beneath ancient, moss-covered trees. As Puck and I pulled it to shore, Ariella woke, gazing around blearily.

“Where—”

“Relax, Ari. We’re just stopping for a bit.” Puck released the boat and stretched, raising long limbs over his head. “You know, it’s always rafts and skinny little pole boats that you have to suffer through on these types of trips. Why can’t we travel to the End of the World in a yacht?”

THE WOLF LEAPED off the raft and stretched, baring his fangs in an enormous yawn. Shaking water from his fur, he looked around at the enormous trees and panted a grin. “I’m off to hunt,” he stated simply. “It shouldn’t take long.” He glanced back at me, wrinkling his long muzzle. “I’d advise you not to venture into the forest, little prince. You’re in the Deep Wyld now, and I’d hate to come back to find you all eaten. Well, except for the cat. He can get himself eaten anytime he wants.” With that, he turned and bounded off, his black form merging with the shadows.

A few seconds later, we realized Grimalkin had also vanished. He’d probably slipped away into the forest as soon as the boat had touched ground, with no explanation and no hint to when he’d return. That left the three of us, alone.

“You know, we could just leave them,” Puck suggested, grinning to show he wasn’t completely serious. “What? Don’t give me that look, Ari. Wolfman is probably right at home, and we couldn’t get rid of Furball even if we wanted to. We’d be halfway to the End of the World and find him sleeping at the bottom of the boat.”

Ariella continued to frown disapprovingly, and Puck threw up his hands. “Fine. Guess we’re stuck here until their furry highnesses deign to show up again.” He eyed each of us in turn, then sighed. “Right, then. Camp. Food. Fire. I’ll get right on that.”

Not long after, a cheerful fire crackled in a shallow pit, trying valiantly to throw back the darkness, failing to do so. The shadows seemed thicker near the River of Dreams, as if Night itself had taken offense to the flickering campfire and was crowding the edges of the light, seeking to swallow it whole. Light was an intruder here, much as we were.

Ariella sat cross-legged in the sand, idly poking the fire with a stick, while Puck and I attended to the business of finding food. Puck had somehow fashioned a pole from glamour, a stick, and a tangle of string from his pocket, but fishing in the River of Dreams was proving to be a strange and frustrating affair. He managed to pull a couple fish out of the river early, but they were odd, unnatural things: long and black like eels, with oversize teeth that snapped at us when we tried to handle them and bit through the sticks we tried to spear them with. We finally decided it wasn’t worth the hassle of a lost finger and let them flop back into the river. His other catches included a yellow boot, a giant turtle that asked us for a pocket watch, and what looked like a large, normal catfish. That is, until it started sobbing enormous tears, begging us to return it to its family. I might’ve ignored the wailing fish and stuck it over the fire anyway, but the softhearted Good fellow let it go.

“You realize you’ve just been duped by a fish,” I said, watching the catfish grin at me before slipping into the dark waters, lost from view. Puck shrugged.

“Hey, it was going to name one of its grandfish after me,” he said, tossing the line into the water again. “That’s one of my rules, you know. I refuse to eat anything that names its kid after me.”

“Fish don’t have children,” I deadpanned. “Fish have fry.”

“Even so.”

“Fine.” I rolled my eyes and stepped back from the edge. “I’m done with this. Let me know if you manage to catch anything useful.”

I wandered back to the fire, where Ariella looked up and smiled faintly, as if she knew exactly how the fishing had gone.

“Here,” she said, and tossed me a round, pinkish globe. I caught it automatically, blinking as I realized what it was. A peach, fuzzy and soft and nearly the size of my fist. I glanced beside her and saw she had a whole basket of them.

“Where did you find these?” I asked in amazement. She chuckled.

“The river,” she replied, nodding to the dark, glittering water. “You can find almost anything a human would dream of, provided you know what to look for. While you and Puck have been wrestling with nightmares, I just keep an eye on the surface and let the dream debris come.”

“Sounds like you’ve done this before,” I said, taking a seat beside her.

“Not really,” she admitted. “I’ve never been to the river in person. But as a seer I can sometimes see into dreams, whether they be faery or mortal. Dreamwalking, I believe it’s called. And sometimes, I can even shape those dreams, make a person see what I want them to.”

“Like you did with mine.”

She was silent a moment, gazing back into the fire. “Yes,” she murmured finally. “I’m sorry, Ash. But I wanted you to see what would’ve happened if Meghan had lost. I wanted you to understand why I chose what I did, even though I knew it would hurt.”

“Did you …” I paused, gathering my thoughts. “Did you see my dreams … before?” Before I found Meghan, before I learned to freeze out my emotions—the nightmares that kept me awake at night, because I knew closing my eyes would force me to live that day over and over again.

Ariella shivered, drawing her knees to her chest, and nodded. “I wished I could have helped you.” She sighed, resting her chin on a knee. “Between you and Puck, it was all I could do not to let you know I was still alive.”

I frowned. Puck had had nightmares, too? I pushed that thought away, unwilling to dwell on it. If he had been suffering like me, good. He deserved it. “So,” I asked, changing the subject, “what comes next?”

Ariella sighed. “I don’t know,” she murmured, almost to herself. “Everything is so hazy now. I’ve never been this far into the wyldwood.”

“I haven’t, either.”

“But that doesn’t worry you, does it?” She hugged herself and gazed out over the river. “You’ll do whatever it takes, won’t you? You’ve always been that way. Completely fearless.” She shivered again and closed her eyes, seeming to sink into herself. “I wish I could be like that.”

“I’m not fearless,” I told her. “There are a lot of things that scare me.” Failure. My own savage, Unseelie nature. Being unable to save those I had sworn to protect. Having my heart ripped from me once more. “I’m not fearless,” I said again. “Not by a long shot.”

Ariella gave me a sideways glance, as if she knew what I was thinking. “Yes, but you aren’t afraid of the things the rest of us are afraid of,” she said wryly. “The things that should terrify you don’t.”

“Like what?” I challenged, mostly to get her talking, to argue with me as she had before. This new Ariella, quiet and sad, bowed under the weight of terrible knowledge and countless secrets, was more than I could take. I wanted her to laugh again, to smile like she used to. Grinning, I bit into the peach, adopting a careless, defiant posture. “Name something you think I should be afraid of.”

“Dragons,” Ariella said immediately, making me snort. “Giants, hydras, manticores. Take your pick. Not only do you lack a healthy respect for them, you go charging into their lairs to challenge them to a fight.”

“I have a healthy respect for manticores,” I argued. “And I avoid picking fights with dragons. You’re lumping me together with Goodfellow.”

“Regardless—” Ariella mock-glared at me “—it’s not the same. I have a healthy respect for kelpies, but that doesn’t mean I’d ever go swimming with one.” She wrinkled her nose at me. “Not like you and Puck, seeing how long you could stay on that kelpie’s back without drowning or getting eaten.”

I shrugged. “I know my abilities. Why should I fear something that probably can’t kill me?”

Ariella sighed. “You’re missing the point. Or, perhaps you’re making it for me, I’m not sure.” She shook her head, giving me a lopsided smile, and for a moment, it was like old times again. Me, Puck, and Ariella, braving unknown territory, not knowing what was to come.

I was suddenly aware of how close Ariella was, our shoulders barely touching. She seemed to realize it as well, for we gazed at each other, hardly breathing. The river flowed by us, and farther downstream Puck was shouting something, but for a quiet heartbeat it was just me and Ariella and nothing else.

A yell interrupted us. Puck was on the banks of the river, pulling and yanking at his line, his face intense. From the looks of it, whatever was on the other end was enormous, making the string lurch up and down as it fought. In the center of the river, the water boiled up like a geyser, and Puck yanked harder on the string. Then, with an explosion of debris and mist, a huge serpentine form rose fifteen feet into the air, towering over Puck, holding the line in a curved talon. Blue, green and silver scales glinted in the moonlight as a dragon lowered its massive horned head—mane and moustache rippling behind it—to glare at Puck with somber gold eyes.

“Oh,” Puck said in a breathless voice, staring at it from where he sat in the mud and sand. “Um. Hey.”

The eyes blinked. The solemn gaze shifted to Puck’s left hand, narrowing. Puck looked down. “Oh, the hook.” He grinned sheepishly. “Yeah. Sorry ‘bout that. No harm done, right?”

The dragon snorted, filling the breeze with the scent of fish and cherry blossoms. Rippling like sea waves, it turned and coiled through the air, skimming the surface of the River of Dreams, before it sank beneath the depths once more.

Puck stood, dusted himself off, and sauntered toward us.

“Well, that was … interesting.” He grinned. “Guess I’ve been officially slapped on the wrist for fishing in the River of Dreams without a license. Hey, is that a peach?”

The Wolf appeared sometime later, gliding from the dark with no warning whatsoever, pacing up to the fire. Puck and Ariella were both asleep, peach pits scattered about, and I had taken first watch, sitting on a log with my sword in my lap. Grimalkin had not yet returned, but no one was really worried. It was an unspoken knowledge about the cait sith: he would reappear when it was time to leave.

The Wolf padded into the flickering light and flopped down across from me with a huff. A few feet away, Puck stirred, muttering something about peaches and dragons, but didn’t wake.

The Wolf and I watched each other over the dying campfire for several minutes. “So,” the Wolf began with a flash of bright fangs, “this quest of yours. You never told me much about it, little prince. It would be nice to know the reason behind this insane journey down the River of Dreams. I know you want to reach the End of the World, but I don’t know why. What lies at the End of the World that is so important?”

“The Testing Grounds,” I said quietly, seeing no reason to hide the fact. The Wolf pricked his ears.

“The Testing Grounds,” he repeated, unsurprised, and nodded. “I suspected as much. Then, if you wish to go to the Testing Grounds, you must be looking for something.” He paused, eyeing me over the flames, eyes glowing in the darkness. “Something you lack. Something very important. Your Name? No.” He shook his head, talking more to himself than to me. “I have a feeling you already know your True Name. What, then? You have power. You have immortality, in a sense …” He paused, and his yellow-green eyes turned gleeful. “Ahhh, yes, I know why. There is only one thing left.” He looked up, smiling wickedly. “You’re here because of the girl, aren’t you? You’re hoping to earn a soul.”

I gave him a cold stare. “What do you know about that?”

The Wolf barked a laugh, and Ariella stirred. “I know you are a fool, boy,” he said, lowering his voice to a low rumble. “Souls are not meant for us. They tie you to the world, make you mortal, make you like them. Being human … it will drive you mad, little prince. Especially one like you.”

“What do you mean?”

The Wolf blinked slowly. “I could tell you,” he said quietly, “but it would not sway you. I can smell your determination. I know you will see this through to the end. So why waste the breath?” He yawned and sat up, testing the breeze. “The cat is close. Pity he didn’t get lost.”

I turned just as Grimalkin emerged from the bushes nearby, giving me a bored look. “If you are waiting for sunrise, prince, you are wasting your time,” he announced without preamble, and strode past me with his tail in the air. “The light will not penetrate this far into the Deep Wyld, and we have attracted too much attention sitting around here.” He did not look back as he trotted in the direction of the raft. “Wake the others,” he commanded, his voice drifting back to us. “It is time for us to go.”

The Wolf and I shared a look over the flames.

“I could eat him now,” he offered seriously. I bit down a smirk.

“Maybe later,” I said, and got up to rouse the others.

PUCK WOKE EASILY when I kicked him in the ribs, rolling upright with a wounded yelp, making the Wolf grin with appreciation. “Ow!” he snarled. “Dammit, ice-boy, why don’t you just stick a knife in my ribs and be done with it?”

“I’ve thought about it,” I replied, and knelt to wake Ariella, curled up on her cloak by the fire. Her knees were drawn up to her chest, and she reminded me, always, of a sleeping cat. She stirred as I touched her shoulder, opening turquoise eyes to blink up at me sleepily.

“Time to go?” she murmured.

And, very suddenly, my breath caught. She looked vulnerable, lying there in the sand, her hair a silver curtain around her head. She looked slight and delicate and breakable, and I wanted to protect her. I wanted to pull her close and shield her from all the dangers in the world, and the realization made my stomach churn.

“Come on,” I said, offering a hand to help her up. Her fingers were soft as I drew her to her feet. “The all-knowing cait sith has returned, and we’ve been ordered to move out.”

That made her smile, as I’d hoped it would, and for half a heartbeat we stood there, gazing at each other in the sand, our faces a breath apart. Her fingers tightened on mine, and for a moment, it was like nothing had changed, that Ariella had never died, that we’d returned to a time when we were both happy, where there were no blood oaths between friends and no vow that stood between us.

But, yearning for the impossible didn’t make it so.

Guiltily, I pulled away, breaking eye contact, and Ariella dropped her hands, a shadow darkening her face. Without speaking, we followed Puck toward the raft, where Grimalkin already sat on the edge, thumping his tail with impatience. Behind us, the Wolf trailed silently, but I could feel his ancient, knowing gaze on my back.

Under Grimalkin’s impatient glare, we climbed aboard the raft, shoved off, and the current moved us out into the river once more. No one spoke, though I didn’t miss the cold, angry looks I was receiving from Puck, nor the subtle glances Ariella was shooting my way. I ignored them both, keeping my gaze straight ahead and my eyes trained on the river.

Not long after that, the River of Dreams picked up speed. No longer sleepy and tranquil, it rushed along as if it were fleeing something, a dark and faceless terror that chased it through the night. The debris that floated in the water and knocked against the raft had taken on a macabre feel. Coffins bobbed to the surface, knives and plastic doll heads went spinning by, hockey masks and clown shoes thumped against the front of the boat.

“I don’t like the looks of this,” Puck mused, as I barely avoided a collision with a broken tombstone that lurched out of the water. It was the first thing he’d said for several miles, which I thought might be some sort of a record. “What happened to the flowers and butterflies and all the shiny, pretty dream stuff?”

“We’re nearing the nightmare stretch,” the Wolf rumbled ominously. “I told you. You’re not going to like what you see.”

“Freaking fantastic.” Puck shot him a look. “And, uh, does anyone else hear drums?”

“That isn’t funny, Puck,” Ariella chided, but at that moment an arrow thunked into one of the logs, causing everyone to jerk upright.

I looked to the riverbank. Small, pale things scurried through the bushes and undergrowth, keeping pace with the raft. I caught glimpses of round, red eyes, short, bulbous tails and dark cloaks, but it was difficult to see anything through the trees and shadows.

“Okay, natives definitely not friendly,” Puck mused, ducking as another arrow shot overhead. “Hey, cat, any idea what kind of nasties we’ve pissed off so royally?”

Grimalkin, of course, had vanished. More darts filled the air, lodging into the planks or flying past us into the water, some barely missing us. “Dammit,” Puck snarled, “we’re sitting ducks out here.”

With a snarl, the Wolf rose and launched himself, making the raft spin wildly as he landed like a boulder in the river. Fighting the current, he struck powerfully for the shore, ignoring the debris that slammed into him, the water rushing over his body, failing to drag him down.

I smacked another arrow down with my sword and pulled glamour from the air, feeling it swirl around me. With a sharp gesture, I sent a flurry of ice darts into the bushes lining the riverbank. The shards ripped through the leaves, shredding them as they passed, and painful shrieks rose into the air.

Ariella stood, her bow in hand, pulling back the string. She didn’t have a quiver, but glamour shimmered around her, and a gleaming ice arrow formed between her fingers just as she released the string. It flew into the bushes with a thump, and a small, pale body tumbled out of the ferns into the river.

“Nice shot, Ari,” Puck crowed as the Wolf drew close to shore. The hail of arrows thinned, and the marauders shrieked as the Wolf dragged his dripping black form out of the water and shook vigorously. Yelping, they fled, scattering into the bushes, and the Wolf lunged after them with a roar. “Go get ‘em, Wolfman!” Puck cheered, as the attackers vanished into the trees. “Looks like he scared them off, whatever they were.”

I saw movement on the banks ahead and narrowed my eyes. “Don’t be too sure about that.”

Something small and pale like the other forms scrambled onto a rock jutting out over the water. Seen clearly, it looked like a squat, bipedal newt with slimy white skin and a froglike mouth full of teeth. Its beady eyes were filmy and blue, unlike the bright crimson of the others, and it wore a strange headdress on its naked skull.

Raising a staff in both claws, it started chanting.

“That can’t be good,” Puck muttered.

“Ari,” I called, ducking as another hail of darts flew at us from the bush. The natives were definitely protecting their shaman. “Take him down now!”

Ari pulled back and released an arrow, a perfect shot that would’ve gone right through the shaman’s chest had another creature not leaped in front of him, taking the lethal blow itself. I flung a hail of shards at him, but several newt creatures sprang up and huddled around him, shrieking as the darts tore into them, but not moving. The chanting continued as the raft drifted by, taking us out of reach.

Around us, the water started to boil.

I drew my sword as a monstrous coil broke the surface of the river, black and shiny and thicker than my waist. Puck yelped, and Ariella cringed back. A huge head reared out of the water with a screech and an explosion of nightmare debris. Not a snake or a dragon; this monster had a round, lipless mouth lined with sharp teeth, built for sucking instead of biting. A giant lamprey, and where there was one, there were usually more.

“Puck!” I yelled, as the raft spun wildly and two more giant eels rose out of the water. “If we end up in the water, we’re dead! Don’t let them crush the boat!”

The first lamprey lunged at me, snaking in for an attack. I stood my ground and slashed upward with my blade, cutting through its fleshy maw. The lamprey screamed and reared back, mouth split in two, thrashing wildly. From the corner of my eye, I saw Ariella shoot an arrow right into the mouth of another eel, which convulsed fiercely and sank back into the depths. The third lunged for Puck, mouth gaping, but at the last moment Puck leaped aside, and the lamprey struck the boat instead, razor teeth sinking into the wood. It started to pull back, but not before Puck’s dagger flashed down, stabbing the top of its head.

Shrieking, the eel coiled its entire body around the raft, squeezing hard. The planks creaked and started to snap in places as the mortally wounded lamprey clung to it with the strength of death. I spun and sliced through a coil, cutting it in two, but with a final snap, the raft splintered, flying outward in an explosion of wood and dumping me into the river.

The current caught me instantly, dragging me down. Still clutching my sword, I fought to the surface, calling out for Ariella and Puck. I could see the lamprey as it sank below the surface, coiled around the remains of the raft, but my companions were nowhere to be seen.

Something struck me in the back of the head. My vision went dark for a moment, and I fought to keep my head above water, knowing that if I lost consciousness now, I would die. Brief ly, I hoped Puck, Ariella and Grimalkin were all right; that they would survive, even if I did not.

Then the current pulled me under again, and the River of Dreams took me away.

CHAPTER EIGHT THE HOBYAHS

I awoke on my stomach, my cheek pressed into something hard, river water soaking my clothes. There was a dull roar in my ears, which I quickly discovered was the river behind me. I listened for other things, for familiar voices and the rustle of movement, for a snide feline voice asking if I was finally awake, but there was nothing. It seemed I was alone.

Slowly, I pushed myself up, testing for sharp pain and broken bones, anything that seemed out of place. Though there was a gash across my forehead and a throbbing ache in my skull, nothing seemed seriously injured. I was lucky this time. I hoped the others were as fortunate.

My sword lay in the mud a few feet away. As I reached for it, I became aware that I was not alone after all.

“Good,” rumbled the Wolf, somewhere above me. “You’re still alive. It would be extremely annoying if I had to tell Mab I let her son drown while on this ridiculous quest. Dragging your carcass out of the river isn’t something I’d want to do again, prince. I hope it doesn’t become a habit.”

He was lying on the bank a few yards away, watching me with intense yellow-green eyes. As I pulled myself up, he nodded approval and rose, his pelt still spiky and damp from his plunge into the water.

“Where are the others?” I asked, gazing around for their bodies. The Wolf snorted.

“Gone,” he said simply. “The river took them.”

I stared at him, letting the words sink in. Loss was nothing new to me. I’d shielded myself from the worst of the pain; not caring for anything ensured I wouldn’t miss it when it was gone. Attachments, as I’d learned, had no place in the Unseelie Court. But I could not believe that Puck and Ariella were gone.

“You didn’t try to help them?”

Shaking himself, the Wolf sneezed and looked back at me, unconcerned. “I had no interest in saving the others,” he said easily. “Even if I could have gotten to them in time, my only interest is keeping you alive. I warned them floating downstream was a bad idea. I suppose we’ll have to find another way to the End of the World.”

“No,” I said quietly, looking across the foaming river. “They’re not dead.”

The Wolf curled a lip. “You don’t know that, prince. You can’t be sure.”

“I’d know,” I insisted. Because if they were gone, I’d have no way to reach the Testing Grounds myself, no way to honor my vow to Meghan. If Puck was dead, my world would become as cold and lifeless as the darkest night in the Winter Court. And if I had let Ariella die a second time, it would’ve been better if the Wolf had left me to drown, because the pain would do more than crush me this time—it would kill me.

I let out a breath, raking a hand through my wet hair. “We’re going to find them,” I said, looking back down the river. The water roared and foamed, clawing angrily at the rocks, rushing by at a breakneck speed. The Wolf was right—

it was difficult to imagine anyone surviving that, once the raft had smashed apart, but Robin Goodfellow was an expert at survival, and I had to believe Ariella was safe with him. Grimalkin I wasn’t even worried about. “Believe what you will,” I continued, glancing at the Wolf, “but Goodfellow is still alive. He’s harder to kill than you might think … perhaps even harder to kill than you.”

“I very much doubt that.” But his voice was flat with resignation, and he huffed noisily, shaking his head. “Come on, then.” With a last show of teeth, the Wolf turned and started padding down the riverbank. “We waste time standing about here. If they survived, they will likely be farther downstream. However …” He paused and glanced back. “If we reach the Falls of Oblivion, you might as well give up. Nothing can survive that plunge. Not even me.”

He turned and continued loping along the riverbank, head lifted to the wind to pick up the scent of his prey. With one last look at the foaming River of Dreams, I followed.

FOR AN INDEFINITE AMOUNT of time, we walked along the riverbank, searching for any sign, any hint of Puck or Ariella. The Wolf loped tirelessly along with his muzzle pointed sometimes at the ground and sometimes at the sky, tasting the wind, while I searched the bank for footprints, broken twigs, overturned rocks, any sign of life.

Something near the edge of the water caught my eye, and I hurried over. A splintered length of wood lay trapped between two rocks at the water’s edge. It was part of the raft, bobbing limply in the waves, smashed almost beyond recognition. I stared at it for a moment, refusing to acknowledge what that could mean, and turned away to continue the search.

Farther downstream, the Wolf suddenly came to a stop. Lowering his head, he sniffed around the rocks and mud, then straightened with a growl, baring his teeth.

I hurried over. “Did you find them?”

“No. But a great many creatures were here recently. Small things, very unpleasant smell. Slimy. Faintly reptilian.”

I remembered the pale, newtlike creatures, shooting at us down the riverbank. And their shaman, calling up river nightmares to crush the boat. “What are they?”

The Wolf shook his bushy head. “Hobyahs.”

“Hobyahs,” I repeated, recalling the tale of the small, unpleasant fey. “Hobyahs are extinct. At least, that’s what the stories claim.” Much like goblins or redcaps, the hobyahs were fierce, frightening creatures that lived in dark forests and menaced humans. Though apparently, there had been only one tribe of hobyahs, and they had met a grisly end. According to legend, the hobyahs had tried to kidnap a farmer and his wife and were eaten by the family dog in the end, so there were no more hobyahs in the world anymore.

But the Wolf snorted. “You’re in the Deep Wyld now, boy,” he growled. “This is the place of old legends and forgotten myths. The hobyahs are alive and well here, and there are a lot of them, if you can’t guess by looking at the tracks.”

Glancing down, I saw he was right. Three-toed prints were scattered haphazardly in the mud between rocks—small, light tracks with claws on the end of the toes. Here and there a blade of grass was crushed or trampled, and a strong musky odor lingered in the air.

The Wolf sneezed and shook his head, curling his lips in disgust. “Let’s keep moving. I can’t track anything past this abominable smell.”

“Wait,” I ordered, and dropped to a knee in the grass at the water’s edge, brushing the trampled vegetation. Hobyah prints were everywhere, but there was a shallow indentation in the grass that faintly resembled …

“A body,” I muttered, as the Wolf peered over my shoulder. “There was a body lying here, on its stomach. Not a hobyah, either. My size.”

“Are you sure?” the Wolf growled. Lowering his muzzle, he sniffed the spot I pointed to and sneezed again, shaking his head. “Pah, I can’t smell anything but hobyah stink.”

“They had it surrounded,” I mused, seeing the scene in my mind. “It must have come out of the water, pulled itself onto the bank, then collapsed here. No, not just one.” I ran my fingers over the grass. “There was another one here. Two of them. The hobyahs probably found them when they were passed out.”

“Hobyahs aren’t anyone’s friends,” the Wolf said gravely. “And they eat almost everything. There might not be anything left once we catch up.”

I ignored the Wolf, though a cold rage burned deep in my stomach, making me want to put my sword through some creature’s head. As I followed the tracks farther up the bank, more of the scene played out before me. “They dragged them away,” I continued, pointing at a spot where the grass was flattened and bent in one direction, “into the forest.”

“Impressive,” the Wolf growled, coming to stand beside me. “And unfortunate, considering those two are now at the mercy of bloodthirsty cannibals.” He sniffed and gazed into the dark tangle of trees. “I suppose this means we are going after them.”

Relief, swift and sudden, bloomed through me. They were still alive. Captured perhaps, in danger of being tortured or killed, but for now, they were alive. I shot the Wolf a cold stare.

“What do you think?”

He bared his fangs at me. “Be careful, boy. In some tales, the hero gets eaten by the monster after all.”

TRACKING THE HOBYAHS through the dark, eerie forest proved easier than following the river. They didn’t bother to cover their tracks, and their greasy odor clung to every leaf and twig and blade of grass they stepped on or brushed by.

The trail led us deep into the woods, until at last, the ground sloped away and we were staring down into a shallow basin filled with swampy water. Thatch huts stood on wooden stilts over the murk, and long spears standing point up in the mud held an assortment of rib cages, rotting carcasses and severed heads.

Small, pale creatures like those from the riverbank swarmed the village like ants whose nest had been invaded. They barely came up to my knee. Along with their dark cloaks and hoods, many of them wore thin spears that looked to be made of bone.

The Wolf growled and shifted beside me. “Disgusting things, hobyahs. And they taste even worse than they look.” He turned to me. “What are you going to do now, little prince?”

“I have to find Puck and Ariella, if they’re down there.”

“Hmm. Perhaps they are in that pot.”

An enormous kettle hung on stilts in the middle of the camp, with a crackling fire underneath. Noxious black fumes came from whatever was in the pot, and I shook my head. “No,” I mused, dismissing that notion immediately. “Both of them are too smart to end up like that.”

“If you say so,” the Wolf mused as we circled the camp. “I hope your faith in those two does not get you killed.”

“There you are!” hissed an impatient voice above my head. “Where have you been? I was beginning to think the dog had eaten you after all.”

The Wolf snarled and spun around, craning his neck at the tree, where Grimalkin peered at us from a branch safely out of reach. “I’ve grown tired of your insults, cait sith,” he challenged, eyes blazing with pure hatred. “Come down here and say that. I’ll rip that arrogant tongue right out of your head. I’ll crush your skull in my teeth, tear the hide off your useless feline skeleton and eat your heart.”

His voice was getting louder with each threat. I put a hand on his huge shoulder and shoved, hard. “Quiet!” I warned as he turned with a snarl. “You’ll alert the camp. There’s no time for this now.”

“A wise statement,” Grimalkin replied, giving the Wolf a lazy, half-lidded stare. “And the prince is correct, much as I would enjoy watching you chase your tail and bark at the moon.” The Wolf growled again, but the cat ignored him, looking at me. “Goodfellow and the seer are being held in one of the inner huts, still unconscious, I believe. The hobyah shaman is keeping them in a drugged sleep—so much easier to put them in the kettle when the time comes. They have been waiting for it to get hot enough, but I believe it is very nearly ready.”

“Then we need to move fast.” Crouching, I looked over the camp again but spoke to the Wolf. “I’m going to sneak around the back. Do you think you can create a big enough diversion for me to find the others and get out of there?”

The Wolf bared his teeth in a savage grin. “I think I can come up with something.”

“Wait for my signal, then. Grimalkin—” I looked to the cait sith, who blinked calmly “—show me where they are.”

We crept around the outskirts of the camp, moving soundlessly through the trees and marshy undergrowth, until Grimalkin stopped at the edge of the basin and sat down.

“There,” he said, nodding to the left side of the camp. “The shaman’s hut is the second one from the rotting tree. The one with the torches and the chicken feet strung across the entrance.”

“All right,” I murmured, staring at the hut. “I’ll take it from here. You should hide—” But Grimalkin was already gone.

I closed my eyes and drew my glamour to me, creating a cloak of shadows that the light would shy away from. As long as I didn’t make any noise or draw attention to myself, glances would slide past me and torchlight would not penetrate my fabricated darkness.

With the glamour cloak in place, I walked down the slope into the swampy basin.

The smells here were foul and potent; rancid water, putrid carcasses, rotting fish and the oily, reptilian stench of the hobyahs themselves. They hissed and snarled at each other in their garbled, burbled language, punctuated by one recognizable word: hobyah. Probably how they got their name. Moving from shadow to shadow, being careful not to slosh the warm swamp water that soaked my legs, I made my way to the shaman’s hut. Chanting sounds and a thick, pungent smoke drifted past the veil of chicken feet at the doorway. Silently drawing my sword, I eased inside.

The interior of the tiny shack reeked of a foul incense, stinging my eyes and scratching the back of my throat. A squat, potbellied hobyah sat beside one wall on a pile of animal skins, chanting and waving a burning stick over a pair of limp figures. Puck and Ariella, sprawled out on the dirty hut floor, their faces pale and slack, hands and feet bound with yellow vines. The shaman jerked his head up as I came in, and hissed in alarm.

Quick as lightning, he lunged for his staff, standing in the corner, but I was faster. Just as his claw closed on the gnarled wood, an icicle shard hit him from behind. It should have killed him, but he turned and shrieked something at me, rattling the bones atop his staff. I felt a ripple of some dark glamour go through the air, and lunged forward, slashing with my blade. The shaman’s mouth opened, and he spit something at me, an acidic yellow substance that burned my skin where it hit, right before the blade struck home. He screamed a death cry and dissolved into a pile of squirming snakes and frogs. One down, but the other hobyahs would not be far behind.

My skin tingled and was starting to go numb where the shaman’s spittle had landed, but I couldn’t focus on that now. Kneeling beside Ariella, I cut her bonds and drew her into my arms.

“Ari,” I whispered urgently, tapping her cheek. Her skin was cold to the touch, and even though that was normal for Winter fey, my stomach twisted. “Ari, wake up. Come on, look at me.”

I pressed two fingers to the pulse at her throat, but at that moment she stirred and her eyelids fluttered. Relief shot through me like an arrow, and I resisted the urge to hug her close. Opening her eyes, she jerked when she saw me, and I pressed my finger to her lips. “Just me,” I whispered, as her eyes widened. “We have to get out of here. Quietly.”

A shriek came from the entrance of the hut. A hobyah stood there, red eyes wide as he stared at us. I hurled an ice dagger at him, but he darted away, hissing, and fled into the camp. Cries of alarm and rage echoed beyond the door, and then came the sound of many bodies rushing toward us through the water.

I cursed and lunged upright, grabbing my sword. “Get Puck on his feet,” I called to Ariella, crossing the floor to the entrance. “We’re leaving now!” The first hobyah rushed into the shack, saw me, and lunged with a howl, stabbing his spear at my knee. My sword flashed down and sent the hobyah’s head rolling toward the corner, before both parts dissolved into a pile of writhing salamanders. Another darted through and hurled its spear at my face. I ducked the projectile and sent one of my own at the hobyah. The ice shard hit it square between the eyes and it slithered away in a tangle of snakes and lampreys.

Stepping outside, deliberately blocking the entrance to the hut, I raised my sword and met the horde of hobyahs swarming me from every direction. “Hobyah!” they screeched as they rushed me. “Hobyah hobyah hobyah!” Spears flew at me, though I managed to dodge or block most of them, lashing out at any hobyah that got too close. The pile of newts, frogs and snakes grew at my feet, but there were always more attackers, more hobyahs dropping from the trees, erupting from the water, or climbing over the roof to leap at my back.

A huge black bird suddenly exploded from the hut behind me in a flurry of wings and feathers. With an enraged caw, it plunged down, sank its talons into a hobyah and carried it high into the trees, the hobyah struggling and howling in its grip. The others hissed and snarled, craning their necks to follow it as Ariella stepped out beside me.

“I assume there’s a plan?” she asked, pale but calm as a mass of frogs and snakes suddenly rained down from the trees. Puck dropped onto the roof of the hut with a crash, daggers already in hand. I smiled at Ariella.

“Always.” As the swarm of hobyahs began edging forward again, I put two fingers in my mouth and blew out a piercing whistle.

A sudden, haunting howl echoed it. The hobyahs cringed, spinning around, their eyes going wide with fear.

The Wolf hurled himself into the midst of the hobyahs with a roar that shook the ground, and the creatures screamed in panic. “Dog!” they shrieked, throwing up their hands and running about in terror. “Dog! Dog!”

The Wolf bared his teeth. “I. Am not. A dog!” he roared, and lunged for the nearest hobyah, grabbing it by the head and shaking it viciously.

I took Ariella’s hand and pulled her away, Puck close behind and muttering curses. The hobyahs didn’t try to stop us. Together, we fled the camp, hearing the Wolf’s roars and the hobyah’s squeals of panic echo behind us.

“ASH,” ARIELLA SAID, grabbing my arm, “wait! We’re not being followed. Stop for a moment, please.”

I staggered to a halt, ignoring the urge to put my hand against the nearest tree to stop the ground from spinning. The chaos in the hobyah village had long faded behind us, but I’d wanted to get as far from the creatures as possible, in case they decided to come after us once more. If the Wolf left any alive.

My chest and shoulder still burned where the hobyah shaman had spat on me. Ignoring the pain crawling down my back, I leaned against a cool, mossy trunk and gazed around, trying to get my bearings. The trees here were giant, ancient things, and you could almost feel their eyes on you, cold and unamused by the intruders in their midst.

“Well, that was all kinds of fun.” Puck blew out a breath and raked a hand through his hair. “Just like old times. Except for the whole getting drugged and having to be rescued thing. That’s gonna sting later, I just know it.” Groaning, he sat on a nearby rock, rubbing a bruise on his shoulder. “Nice of you to come after us, ice-boy,” he drawled. “If I didn’t know better by now, I’d almost think you cared.”

I forced a smirk in his direction. “It wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying if I didn’t get to kill you myself,” I replied, and Puck grinned.

A cool hand touched my cheek. I looked up into Ariella’s concerned gaze. “Are you all right?” she asked, placing the other palm on my forehead. I closed my eyes against the softness. “You’re burning up. What happened?”

“You smell sick, prince,” the Wolf growled, coming out of nowhere. “Like weakness. You won’t make it to the End of the World like that.”

“The shaman,” I replied. “He … spit on me. Did something to me, I think.” The burning in my chest and shoulder had gone numb and was now spreading throughout my body. I realized I could no longer feel my arm.

“Hobyah venom is hallucinogenic,” the Wolf continued, curling his lip. “You’re in for an interesting night, little prince, if you wake up at all.”

The trees were beginning to move strangely, centuries-old giants swaying like willows. I squeezed my eyes shut to clear the visions, and when I opened them again, I was lying on my back while tiny lights danced and swirled over my head.

Someone’s face bent over me, starlight eyes filled with worry. She was beautiful, a vision come to life. But she was fading, growing dimmer and dimmer, until only her eyes were left, staring at me. Then they blinked, and the world cut out altogether.

CHAPTER NINE IN DREAMS

Where am I?

Mist surrounded me, coiling along the ground in ragged patches, blanketing everything in white. The air was cool and damp, holding the quiet stillness of early morning. I smelled pine and cedar and heard the soft splash of water, somewhere up ahead in the fog. I didn’t recognize my surroundings, but for some reason it all seemed vaguely familiar.

With nothing else to do, I started walking.

The mist slowly cleared away, revealing a small green pond encircled by pine trees. The faint babble of ducks echoed over the stillness, and several of the green-and-brown birds glided through the water toward a pale figure standing on the bank. I stopped and drew in a quiet breath, and for a moment I couldn’t move, afraid that the scene before me would dissolve and I’d be left chasing shadows.

She wore jeans and a white shirt, and her long, pale hair was tied in a ponytail, falling softly down her back. Her body was slender, more energetic than graceful, her fingers quick as she tore bread crusts and tossed them into the water. There was a glow about her now, a flickering halo of light, swirling with glamour and power. Against the darkness of the pond and trees, she looked bright and vivid and alive, a light burning against the shadows.

For a moment, I just watched her, tossing crumbs into the water, smiling as the ducks swarmed over them. I knew this wasn’t real; the real Meghan was back in the Iron Realm as the powerful Iron Queen. I knew this was a dream; or perhaps I had died and faded away and didn’t know it yet. But seeing her still made my heart beat crazily, made me long to pull her close and let that light consume me. If it burned until there was nothing left, would that be such a terrible fate?

She must have heard me, or sensed my presence, for she turned and her blue eyes widened. “Ash?” she whispered, and the smile that crept over her face warmed me like the sun. “What are you doing here?”

I couldn’t help but smile back. “I don’t know,” I told her, taking the hand she offered and letting her pull me close. “I think … this is a dream.” Her arms slipped around my waist, and I held her to me, closing my eyes. No burning fire, no searing light that turned me to dust, just the feel of Meghan in my arms. “Though I’d be happy if I never woke up.”

I felt her puzzled frown, and she pulled back to look at me, cocking her head. “Strange. I thought this was my dream.”

“Maybe it is.” I was having trouble thinking. The subtle shift of her body against mine, her hands tracing circles against my back, was driving me to distraction. “Maybe I’m not really here, and this will all disappear when you wake up, including me.” She held me tighter, and I smiled. “I wouldn’t care either way.”

Something nagged at the back of my mind, something important that I had forgotten, beating against my subconscious like birds fluttering against a windowsill. Impatiently, I shoved it back, burying it in a dark corner of my mind. Whatever it was, I didn’t want to remember. Not now. I didn’t want to see, feel or think of anything except the girl in front of me.

As I bent to kiss her, she slipped her hand beneath my shirt, tracing soft fingers over my bare skin, and from there it was easy to forget everything.

LATER, WE LAY IN THE COOL grass at the edge of the pond, Meghan leaning against a tree with my head in her lap, gazing up at the clouds. Her fingers twirled idle patterns in my hair, and I dozed contentedly, feeling no urge to move. If I had died and this was nonexistence, then so be it. If I was sleeping still, then I had no intention of waking up.

“Ash?”

“Mmm?”

“Where have you been all these months? I mean …” She hesitated, twirling a strand of my hair around her finger. “I know you can’t come into the Iron Realm, but no one has seen any sign of you, anywhere. Or Puck, for that matter. What have you two been doing?”

“I was … looking for something, I think.” I reached up and trapped her hand in mine, bringing it to my lips. “I can’t remember now.”

She freed her fingers, stroking my cheek with them. I closed my eyes and let myself drift. “You don’t think it could be important?”

“Maybe.” Truth was, I didn’t want to think about it. I was content here. Whatever lay beyond this glen, this small pocket of dreams or reality or whatever it was, I didn’t want to know about. I couldn’t remember much, but I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that it involved pain. And I was tired of it. So much of my existence had been pain, or emptiness, or loss. Meghan was here. I was happy. That was all I needed to know.

Meghan tapped my forehead in a playful manner. “You do know that one of us has to wake up, don’t you?” she asked, and I grunted, not opening my eyes. “I don’t know if I’m a figment of your imagination or you’re a figment of mine, but eventually this is going to fade away.”

I rolled to my knees to face her, and she blinked as I leaned in close. “You can go if you have to,” I said, smoothing her hair behind one ear. “I’m not leaving. I’ll still be here when you come back.”

“No, Ash,” came a new voice, shattering the peaceful moment. “You cannot stay.”

Meghan and I both jerked up, spinning to face the intruder in our private world. Ariella stood a few yards away, shrouded in the mist, her face grim as she watched us.

“You were very difficult to find, Ash,” she said in a weary voice. “I almost gave up when I couldn’t find you in nightmare. I didn’t think to look for you in the dreams of another, but it makes sense that you should come here.”

“What do you want here?” Meghan rose with the regal grace of a queen, calm and unruffled. I noticed she subtly moved in front of me when facing Ariella, a familiar gesture that caught me off guard. The Iron Queen was protecting me. “Who are you?”

“You know me, Meghan Chase.” Ariella stepped forward, the mist parting for her, to stand before us clearly. “I am the one who was left behind, the one Ash knew before you ever came into the picture.”

Meghan didn’t move, but I saw her draw in a slow breath as the realization hit. “Ariella,” she breathed, and I winced at the churning emotions in that one quiet word. Meghan shook her head, glanced back at me. “Is this another dream, Ash? Did you bring her here?”

“No,” Ariella said before I could reply. “I am not a dream. Not a memory. I am as real as you are, Iron Queen. Death could not quite hold me, all those years ago.”

“Enough,” I rasped, finally shaking the fog from my mind. Memory returned in a rush: the journey to find the seer, the fateful trip down the River of Dreams, the quest to earn a soul. Stepping between them, I felt the heat of both their gazes piercing me like a thousand knives. “Ari,” I said, facing her, “what are you doing here? What do you want?”

Ariella narrowed her eyes. “I’m here to bring you out of this dream,” she replied with a brief glance at Meghan. “Your body is very sick, Ash, and the curse the hobyah shaman laid on you was keeping you trapped in sleep. I don’t know how you found your way here, but it is time for you to return to us.”

Behind me, I could feel Meghan’s stare burning into my shoulder blades. “You’re … with her now?” she asked softly, not quite accusing—not yet. “How … how long have you known she was alive?”

“Not long,” Ariella answered for me. “We haven’t had much time together yet.”

“Ari!” I turned to glare at her. She gazed back, unrepentant, her silver-flecked eyes watching me sadly. In that moment, I saw the jealousy she’d never shown before, the hurt that I had chosen someone else, though she knew it had to be that way. It was perhaps the first truly ugly emotion I’d ever seen from her, and my anger dissipated completely. I had done this to her. She’d given me everything, and I had turned my back on her.

“I see,” Meghan whispered in a voice that trembled only slightly. I could feel her fading, her presence leaving the dream surrounding us. “Then … I’ll leave you two alone.”

“That is not necessary, Iron Queen.” Ariella shook her head. “There is no need. I came here to bring Ash out of his nightmares, but this is your dream, not his. When you wake, the dream will fade, and he will return to us. I’m sorry to have intruded here.” With a slight nod to us both, she backed up a few steps into the mist, and disappeared.

Alone with the Iron Queen again, I held my breath, waiting for the explosion, for the storm of questions. But Meghan took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Was that really her?” she asked, still not looking up. “Ariella? Is she really alive?”

I crossed the space separating us, reaching for her hand. She blinked as I took her fingers, gazing up at me in surprise. “It’s not what you think,” I told her. “Please, hear me out.”

Meghan gave me a sad smile. “No, Ash,” she whispered. “Maybe … maybe this is for the best.” And though she didn’t move, I could sense she was pulling back, letting me go.

“Meghan …”

“I’m the Iron Queen,” she said firmly. “No matter what I want, that will never change. And you’re still part of the Winter Court. Even if you could come into the Iron Realm, you would die. We can’t be together, and there’s no use in wishing for the impossible. It’s selfish of me to keep hoping.” Her voice shook on the last sentence, but she took a deep, steadying breath and looked up at me. “Perhaps … it’s time to move on, to find happiness with someone else.”

I wanted to tell her, to explain what I was trying to do. That I was trying to earn my soul. I was going to the End of the World for her; that I would become mortal if it meant we could be together. I wanted to tell her so badly, but at the same time, I feared getting her hopes up only to have them dashed if I failed. I didn’t want her waiting for me, worrying and constantly looking to the horizon for someone who would never appear.

“You have a chance to be happy now,” Meghan went on, and her blue eyes shone with unshed tears, though she never looked away. “Ash, this is Ariella, the love you’ve been missing for decades. If she’s really back, then fate has given you both another chance, and I … I’m not going to stand in your way.” A tear spilled over, running down her cheek, but she still smiled as she held my gaze. “What we had was a dream, and it was beautiful, but it was just a dream. It’s time for us to wake up.” I took a breath to argue, but she laid her fingers against my lips, silencing me. “Close your eyes.”

I didn’t want to. I wanted to stay in this dream almost as much as I wanted to find a soul, even though I knew this wasn’t real. But, almost against my will, I felt my eyes slip shut, and a moment later her lips brushed against mine, a featherlight touch that pulled my stomach inside out. “Goodbye, Ash,” she whispered. “Be happy.”

AND I AWOKE.

I was lying on my back, staring up at a roof of branches, tiny pinpricks of light filtering through the leaves. A fire crackled somewhere to my left, and the scent of smoke drifted on the breeze, tickling the back of my throat.

“Welcome back, sleeping beauty.”

Puck’s voice filtered through the haze in my mind. Groaning, I struggled into a sitting position, rubbing my eyes. My skin felt cold and clammy, my body drained. Mostly, I felt hollow, empty, though the dull ache in my chest reminded me why I had closed off my emotions, freezing everyone out. It hurt, the knowledge that the girl I loved had let me go once more.

Ariella and the Wolf were nowhere to be seen, but Puck sat on a log in front of a small campfire, holding a fat, speared mushroom over the flames, turning it slowly. Grimalkin lay opposite him on a flat rock, his feet tucked beneath him, purring in contentment.

“‘Bout time you woke up, ice-boy,” Puck said without turning around. “I was hoping for some groaning and thrashing, but you just lay there like the dead. And you didn’t even talk in your sleep so I could torment you about it later. What fun is that?”

I struggled to my feet, pausing a moment to let the ground stop swaying. “How long was I out?” I asked, moving toward the fire.

“Hard to say.” Puck tossed me a mushroom kebab as I walked up. “I haven’t seen the sun in forever. We must be far into the Deep Wyld.”

“Where’s everyone else?”

“Wolfman is out hunting.” Puck stuffed an entire mushroom into his mouth and swallowed without seeming to chew. “I guess my humble white-truffle kebabs weren’t good enough for him. Do you know how hard it is to find these things? Furball turned up his nose as well—picky, ungrateful animals.”

Grimalkin sniffed without opening his eyes. “I do not eat fungi, Goodfellow,” he said in a lofty voice. “And if you are so enamored by these spores, feel free to chew on those spotted toadstools in that pile of elk dung.”

“Oh, well, that’s just gross.”

I swallowed the mushrooms without tasting them, my body recognizing the need for food even though my mind was far away. “Where’s Ariella?” I asked, tossing the stick back into the fire.

Puck nodded to the edge of the circle of firelight, where Ariella sat hunched on a rock, her back to us. “She walked away a few minutes before you came to,” Puck said softly, watching me with narrowed eyes. “I tried following her, but she said she wanted to be alone for a while.” I felt his gaze sharpen, cutting into me. “What did you say to her, Ash?”

I was such a mess, pulled in so many directions I felt like I would snap. I was still reeling from Meghan’s last words, from the flash of jealousy in Ariella’s eyes, from the strain of walking the line between the girl I had lost and the girl I wanted but could not have. But even though Ari had clearly been goading Meghan back in the dreamworld, I could not ignore her pain.

Disregarding Puck, I walked to where Ariella sat, her head bowed, silver hair covering her face like a shimmering curtain. As I stepped closer, she raised her head but didn’t look back at me.

“So, that was her.”

I paused. Her voice was flat, no emotion at all, no indication of what she was feeling. Unsure how to proceed, I answered simply. “Yes.”

A few heartbeats of silence. When she spoke again, I could hear her smile, but it was as bitter as the fading autumn leaves. “I can see why you love her so much.”

I closed my eyes. “Ari—”

She stood quickly before I could say more, though she didn’t turn around. “I know. I’m sorry, Ash. I …” Her voice caught, and she pushed back her hair, speaking more to herself than to me. “I didn’t think it would be this hard.”

I watched her, in the flickering shadows. I watched the firelight rippling off her silver hair, the way her body moved, graceful and sure. And, I was suddenly reminded why I’d fallen in love with her, all those years ago. She was as beautiful as those days when I was that young, arrogant prince, and time had not dulled her perfection. I thought about what Meghan had told me: that fate had given us another chance; Ariella was back in my life, and I could be happy now.

Could I be happy with Ariella?

I shook my head, veering from those thoughts before they got too tempting, feeling another thread of my essence unravel. It didn’t matter, I realized through gritted teeth. I could not abandon my quest, regardless of my feelings. I swore that I would find a way to return to Meghan, and I was bound to that promise. I couldn’t go back on my word, even if what I searched for was impossible. Even if Meghan was no longer waiting for me, that she had said her goodbyes, that she had let me go. I could not give up, even now.

Even if I died, and took everyone with me.

“Finally awake, are you?” The Wolf melted from the shadows, a piece of the night becoming real. “I was tempted to rip out your throat while you slept and put you out of your misery, little prince. Watching you sleep was becoming tiring.” He licked his jaws, where a dull coating of red spattered his fur, and bared his teeth. “We’ve wasted enough time here, and I am getting bored. Do you wish to reach the Testing Grounds or not?”

“Yes,” I said as Puck joined us, carrying several mushroom kebabs. “It’s time to head out. Where do we go from here?”

Ariella closed her eyes. “We follow the River of Dreams,” she murmured, “past the Briars, until we reach the final barrier, and then the End of the World. Beyond that, the Testing Grounds await.”

“You make it sound so easy.” Puck sighed, stuffing another truffle in his mouth. “Past the Briars you say? And then beyond the End of the World? How long is that going to take us?”

“As long as it takes,” I said firmly. “As long as I have the breath to keep going, I will. But that doesn’t mean the rest of you should do the same.” I gazed around the group, meeting the stares of my companions. “From here on out,” I began, “it’s going to be even more dangerous. I won’t ask you to stay with me. None of us know what lies beyond the Briars, at the End of the World. If you want to go back, do so now. I won’t hold it against you.” My gaze caught Ariella’s as I said this. “I can go on alone, if I must, if being around me is too dangerous or hard or painful to go on.”

I would save you my fate, if I could. I will not watch you die again.

“Hmm. Hey, ice-boy, hold these for a second, will ya?” Puck asked, holding out the mushroom kebabs. Frowning, I took them, and he struck me upside the head, not hard, but solid enough to rock me forward a step. “Stop being so damned fatalistic,” he said as I turned on him with a snarl. “If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t be. And you know you can’t do it all by your lonesome, ice-boy. Sooner or later, you’re going to have to start trusting us.”

I laughed at him then, bitter and self-mocking. “Trust,” I said flatly. “Trust requires the faith of both parties, Goodfellow.”

“Enough,” the Wolf growled, baring his fangs at us all. “We’re wasting time. Those who wish to leave, leave. But I believe the consensus is that everyone is staying, is that right?” No one disagreed with him, and he snorted. “Then let us go. I have no idea why two-legs wish to stand around and talk so much.”

“For once, I agree with the dog.” Grimalkin’s voice came from an overhead branch. Golden eyes peered down at us, and the Wolf growled, raising his hackles. The cat ignored him. “If we are to reach the Briars by the River of Dreams, we must find the river first,” he said, sharpening his claws on the branch. “As the dog knows this territory best, perhaps it should do something useful and lead us there. Otherwise I see no reason to have it along at all.”

The Wolf snarled, tensing his muscles, as if he wished he could climb the tree after the feline. “One day I will catch you on the ground, cat,” he said through bared teeth. “And you won’t even know I’m there until I tear your head off.”

“You have been saying that since before humans had fire, dog,” Grimalkin replied, completely undisturbed. “You will have to forgive me if I do not hold my breath.” And he disappeared into the leaves.

CHAPTER TEN THE FORGOTTEN

“So, I’m curious,” Puck announced, falling into step beside me. We were following the Wolf through a forest that was larger than any I’d ever seen: massive trees so tall you couldn’t see the tops of the branches, with trunks so wide a dozen people couldn’t encircle the base. Luminescent flowers and fungi populated this part of the forest, pulsing softly in all the colors of the spectrum. The earth was covered with a thick, spongy moss that glowed bright blue-and-green whenever you stepped on it, leaving footprints that attracted ghostly dragonflies to hover over the indentions. The Wolf loped tirelessly through this glowing wood, pausing occasionally to glance back, often with an annoyed look that we were taking so long. Puck and I trailed doggedly after him, with Ariella bringing up the rear, moving as quietly as a shadow.

Despite assurances that she was fine, my worry for her gnawed at my insides. After the whole dream encounter and our stammering, awkward conversation, she seemed distant and withdrawn, more so than usual. With every step, she grew more shadowlike, more insubstantial, until I feared she would fade away like the mist in the hollow. I tried talking to her, but though she smiled and answered my questions and told me she was fine, her eyes seemed to stare right through me.

I couldn’t get Meghan out of my head, either. I wished I had told her what I was doing. I wished I had said more, argued more. Maybe then I wouldn’t have this hollow ache in my chest whenever I thought of our parting words. Had she already moved on, forgotten me? In her position, what she said made sense, but the thought of her with someone else made me wish I had something to fight, to kill, just so I could forget. Between Meghan and Ariella, I felt like I was being torn in two.

So I really wasn’t in the mood to talk when Puck ambushed me, coming out of nowhere with that faint smirk on his face, looking for trouble. I knew I wasn’t going to like his next question, but he still surprised me when he asked, “So, what did Meghan say when she saw Ariella?”

I glanced at him sharply, and he grinned. “Come on, iceboy. I’m not stupid. I can put the pieces together well enough to figure out what happened. What did she say?” When I didn’t answer, he suddenly reached out and grabbed my shoulder, spinning me around. “Hey, I’m serious, prince!”

I drew my sword in an instant, cutting for his head as I turned. Puck was already bringing up his dagger to block, and the two blades met in a screech of sparks.

Puck glared at me over the crossed blades, eyes gone hard and cold, reflecting my own expression. Dragonflies buzzed around us, and the forest threw odd patches of light over his forehead, almost like war paint. “You’re wavering, Ash,” Puck said quietly, his eyes glowing like the woods around him. “I’ve seen how you look at Ariella of late. You don’t know what you want, and that indecision is going to destroy you, and the rest of us along with it.”

“I gave you the choice to leave,” I said, deliberately ignoring the accusation. “No one is keeping you here. You could’ve gone back to Arcadia, Puck. You could have left if you wanted—”

“No.” Puck’s eyes narrowed to green slits, and he spoke through clenched teeth. “I’m not going back to explain to Meghan that I left you here alone, to tell her I don’t know what happened to you. If I go back, it will be to tell her that you’re gone for good, or I won’t go back at all.”

“I see.” I smiled without humor. “You want me to fail. If I die, then you’ll be there for Meghan. You’re hoping I never come back.”

“Ash! Puck!” Ariella’s voice broke our standoff as she rushed up, white-faced and frightened. “Stop it! What are you doing?”

“It’s fine, Ari,” Puck said, not taking his eyes from me. “Ice-boy and I are just having a conversation, isn’t that right, prince?”

I held the stance a moment longer, then stepped back, sheathing my blade. Puck grinned, but the look in his eyes told me this wasn’t over yet.

“If you two are quite finished,” the Wolf growled, circling back, his voice tight with irritation, “we’re almost there.”

THIS FAR INTO THE DEEP WYLD, the River of Dreams had widened into a wide, sleepy canal of pitch-black water reflecting the darkened sky.

“I wouldn’t stand so close to the edge if I were you,” the Wolf warned Puck, who was about to skip a pebble along the glassy surface. “We’re still very close to the nightmare stretch of the river, and we wouldn’t want you pulled in by something nasty. I’d hate to go in after you again.”

Puck grinned and flung the rock over the mirrorlike surface. I counted five jumps before something huge and scaly erupted from the water, snapping up the pebble in a fine spray before sinking into the depths once more.

We moved back from the edge.

“How far is it to the Briars?” I asked Ariella, who was sitting on a rock several feet from the bank, looking exhausted. Grimalkin sat beside her, washing a front paw. The Wolf wrinkled his muzzle at the cat but didn’t lunge at him, so hopefully they had gone back to pretending the other didn’t exist.

“I’m not sure,” she said, staring down the river as if in a daze. “A long way, I think. But at least we won’t get lost. We just have to follow the river … to the end.”

“Wish we had a boat,” Puck muttered, tossing another rock into the current. Another splash and a flash of scales erupted from the surface, making him wince. “Then again, maybe not. Our last little trip didn’t work out so well, what with the giant eels and arrows and bloodthirsty newts. Guess we’re walking to the End of the World after all, unless anyone has a better idea.”

The Wolf sat down, his dark form outlined by moonlight, and gazed out toward the water. “There is another boat,” he said in a solemn voice. “I’ve seen it sometimes. A ferry, always unmanned, always going in the same direction. It never appears to stop, and the river nightmares seem unaware of its existence.”

“Mmm, you are speaking of the ghost ferry,” Grimalkin said, pausing in his grooming to look up. “One of the more common legends, I believe. There is a similar ship that haunts the Broken Glass Sea, a pirate vessel made of the bones of men. Or something like that.” He sniffed and shook his head. “According to certain legends, the ghost ferry always appears when there is need.”

“Well, there’s need here,” Puck said, gazing up and down the dark river. “We need it, because I don’t want to go tromping down the river for who knows how long until we reach the Briars or the End of the World or whatever.” He cupped his hands to his mouth and bellowed, “Do you hear me, ferry? Need! Here! We need you now!”

Grimalkin flattened his ears, and the Wolf’s hackles went up as he looked at me. “How did he ever survive so long without something tearing his throat out?” he growled.

“Believe me, I’ve wondered the same.”

“The ferry will come to us,” Ariella said, causing everyone to turn and stare at her. She gazed down the river, her eyes glazed, distant and a million miles away. “I’ve seen it. In my visions. It will appear, when it is time.”

“When will that be?” I asked.

“I don’t know. But it will not be here. I’ve seen the boat, and a long, long pier. That is all I know.”

“Well …” Puck sighed, grabbing another pebble. “I guess we’re looking for some kind of dock. Anyone know where we can find one?”

There was no answer to that, and he sighed again. “Guess we’re hoofing it, then.”

THE FOREST ON OUR SIDE of the river soon changed, almost as abruptly as a door slamming. The lights faded, and the trees became twisted, warped versions of themselves, branches creaking and groaning though there was no wind. The stars disappeared, and the river turned even blacker, reflecting nothing but a sickly red moon, peering through the clouds like a lone bloodshot eye. I figured we were still in the nightmare stretch of the river, and hoped nothing would come lurching up from those dark waters or out of the trees, both much too close for comfort.

“Don’t stare into the forest too long, prince,” the Wolf growled, as something rustled in the bushes to the side. “Direct eye contact will draw attention to yourself from the things that live there. And they aren’t pretty, trust me.”

“You mean they’re even scarier than you?” Puck joked, and the Wolf gave him an eerie smile that was all teeth.

“I was born from human fear and suspicion,” the Wolf growled, sounding proud of the fact. “Their stories, their legends, gave me power. But these are creatures of human nightmares, pure, mindless, screaming terror. They come crawling out of that river and escape into the forest, and the forest twists and warps into a landscape of what humans fear the most. If you want to meet some of these creatures, feel free to draw their gaze. Just try not to go insane when you finally see one.”

Puck snorted. “Please. Who do you think you’re talking to? I caused some of those human nightmares. I’ve seen it all, Wolfman. There’s nothing that can freak me out any—whoa!”

Puck leaped backward, almost tripping over himself. Grimalkin hissed and vanished, and I drew my sword. On the banks of the river, holding a fishing pole in two white, long-fingered hands, an enormous, wild-haired creature turned to stare at us.

I stared at it. It was fey, it had to be, but I’d never seen anything like it. It didn’t have a body, just a huge, bulbous head covered in shaggy white hair that hung down to its knees. No, not knees … knee. The giant had one thick stump of a leg ending in a massive clubbed foot, dirty yellow toenails gripping the ground like a giant claw. Two long arms sprouted where its ears should’ve been, and a pair of huge, uneven eyes gazed down at us with detached curiosity.

I tensed, ready to attack should the giant lunge at us. That single leg, once taken out, would make it easy to bring this huge creature down. But the giant only blinked at us sleepily, then turned to gaze at the river again, where the string of his fishing pole met the water.

The Wolf panted, grinning at Puck, who had leaped to his feet, furiously brushing mud from his pants. Ariella stepped up beside me, her apathy forgotten as we gazed up at the strange creature, continuing to fish as if nothing had happened. “What is that?” she whispered, clutching my arm. “I’ve never seen a creature like this before. Is this some kind of human nightmare?”

“It’s not a nightmare,” the Wolf said, sitting down to watch us. “It’s fey, just like you, but it doesn’t have a name. At least, none that anyone can remember.”

“I did not think any still existed,” Grimalkin said, reappearing on a piece of driftwood, his tail still fluffed out to twice its size. He peered up at the oblivious giant and sniffed. “This may be the very last one.”

“Well, endangered or not, maybe it can help us,” Puck said, edging up to the giant’s treelike leg. “Oy, stumpy! Yeah, you!” he called as the giant’s massive head swiveled around to stare at him. “Can you understand me?”

The Wolf blinked at Puck, astonished, and Ariella pressed a little bit closer to me. I could feel her soft fingers gripping my arm, and casually reached for my sword hilt. “I’m not about to scrape you off the bottom of its foot, Goodfellow,” I warned.

“Touched that you care, prince,” Puck called back, retreating a few steps to meet the giant’s gaze, craning his head up. “Hey there,” he greeted, waving cheerfully. “We don’t mean to intrude, but would you be able to answer a couple questions?” He blinked as the giant continued to stare. “Uh, bob once for yes, twice for no.”

The faery shifted, and I tensed, ready to attack if it tried to stomp Puck like an irritating cockroach. But the giant only pulled his line out of the river and turned to face Puck square on.

“What … do … you … want?” it asked, very slowly, as if it was just remembering how to talk. Puck’s eyebrows shot up.

“Oh, hey, you can speak, after all. Excellent.” He turned to grin at me, and I stared back, unamused. “We were just wondering,” Puck continued, giving the giant his best charming smile, “how much farther to the End of the World? Just as a curiosity. Do you know? You look like a local, you’ve been here awhile, right? What do you think?”

“I … do not remember,” the giant said, frowning as if such a thought pained him. “I am sorry. I do not remember.”

“You won’t get anything useful out of him, Goodfellow,” the Wolf growled, standing up. “He doesn’t even remember why he’s here.”

“I was … looking for something,” the giant mused, his large eyes going glassy. “In … the river, I think. I forgot what it was, but … I’ll know it when I see it.”

“Oh.” Puck looked disappointed, but only for a moment. “Well, how about a boat, then?” he went on, undaunted. “If you’ve been here awhile, you must’ve seen a boat floating down the river once or twice.”

The Wolf shook his head and turned to stalk down the riverbank, obviously fed up with the conversation. But the giant frowned, his huge brows knitting together, and nodded thoughtfully.

“A boat. Yes … I remember a boat. Always going in the same direction.” He pointed with a pale white finger in the direction we were headed. “That way. It makes one stop, just one, at the dock on the river’s edge.”

I looked up sharply. “Where?”

The giant’s furrows deepened. “A town? A settlement? I think I remember … houses. Others … like me. Lots of mist …”

He blinked and shrugged, which looked strange because he had no shoulders. “I don’t remember.”

With a final blink, he turned away, as if forgetting we were there, and none of Puck’s continued prodding seemed to reach him.

“Do you know anything about this town?” I asked Grimalkin as we continued down the riverbank. Farther ahead, the Wolf had stopped again and was looking back in annoyance. I would’ve asked him, but he looked ready to snap someone’s head off.

“I only know legends, prince.” Grimalkin picked his way over the ground, avoiding puddles and mincing his way through the mud. “I have never been to this so-called town myself, but there are very, very old stories about a place in the Deepest Wyld where the fey go to die.”

I stared at the cat. “What do you mean?”

Grimalkin sighed. “Among other things, the town is known as Phaed. Do not bother telling me you have never heard of it. I already know you have not. It is a place for those whom no one remembers anymore. Just as stories, belief and imagination make us stronger, the lack of them slowly kills, even those in the Nevernever, until there is nothing left. That giant we saw? He is one of them, the Forgotten, clinging to existence by the thread of those who still remember him. It is only a matter of time before he is simply not there anymore.”

I shivered, and even Puck looked grave. Deep down, that was something we all feared, being forgotten, fading away into nothingness because no one remembered our stories or our names.

“Do not look so serious,” Grimalkin said, hopping over a puddle, perching on a rock to stare at us. “It is the inevitable end for all of Faery. We all must fade eventually. Even you, Goodfellow. Even the great and mighty Wolf. Why do you think he wished to accompany you, prince?” Grimalkin wrinkled his nose, curling his whiskers at me. “So that his story would go on. So that it would spread to the hearts and minds of those who will remember him. But everything he does is only a delay. Sooner or later, everyone winds up in Phaed. Except cats, of course.” With a sniff, he leaped down and trotted along the riverbank with his tail held high.

A ragged mist began to curl along the ground, coming off the water and creeping through the trees. Soon it was so thick it was difficult to see more than a few feet, the river, the woods, the distant horizon completely obscured by the blanket of white.

The Wolf suddenly appeared, coming out of the fog like a silent and deadly shadow. “There are lights ahead,” he growled, the fur along his shoulders and neck bristling like a bed of spikes. “It looks like a town, but there’s something strange about it. It has no scent, no smell. There are things moving around up ahead, and I heard voices through the fog, but I can’t smell anything. It’s like it’s not even there.”

“That is the problem with dogs.” Grimalkin sighed, nearly invisible in the coiling mist. “Always trusting what their nose tells them. Perhaps you should pay attention to your other senses, as well.”

The Wolf bared his teeth in a snarl. “I’ve been up and down these banks more times than I can remember. There was never a town here. Only fog. Why would there be one now?”

“Perhaps it appears as the ferry does,” Grimalkin said calmly, peering into the mist. “Perhaps it only appears when there is need. Or perhaps—” he glanced at me and Ariella “—only those who have died or are about to die can find their way to Phaed.”

THE RIVERBANK TURNED into a muddy path, which we followed until dark shapes began to appear through the mist, the silhouettes of houses and trees. As we got closer, the town of Phaed appeared before us, the path cutting straight through the center. Wooden shanties stood on stilts above the marshy ground, leaning dangerously to the side as if they were drunk. Tired gray hovels slumped or were stacked atop each other like cardboard boxes on the verge of falling down or collapsing with a good kick. Everything sagged, drooped, creaked or was so faded it was impossible to tell its original color.

The street was full of clutter, odds and ends that appeared as if they had been dropped and never picked up again. A fishing pole, with the skeleton of a fish on the end of the line, lay in the middle of the road, causing the Wolf to curl his lip and skirt around it. An easel with a half-finished painting rotted in a pool of stagnant water, paint dripping into the pool like blood. And books were scattered everywhere, from children’s nursery rhymes to huge tomes that looked completely ancient.

The fog here was thicker, too, muffling all sound. Nothing seemed to move, or even breathe.

“Nice place,” Puck muttered as we passed an old rocking chair, creaking in the wind. “Real homey. I wonder where everyone is.”

“They come and go,” said the rocking chair behind us. We all jumped and spun around, drawing our weapons. A strange creature with blank white eyes stared at us where nothing had been before.

As with the giant, I didn’t recognize this creature. It had the body of a shriveled old woman, but her hands were gnarled bird claws and her feet ended in hooves. Feathers stuck out of her gray hair and ran down her skinny arms, but I also saw tiny horns curling from her brow. She regarded me with a dull, tired expression, and a forked tongue flicked out to touch her lips.

“Oh,” she said as I took a deep, slow breath and sheathed my weapon, “newcomers. I haven’t seen a new face in town for … come to think of it, I’ve never seen a new face.” She paused a moment, peering at us, then brightened. “If you’re new, then perhaps you’ve seen it. Have you seen it, by chance?”

I frowned. “It?”

“Yes. It.”

I felt something odd in the air around her, a faint pulling sensation, like water being sucked through a straw. “It … what?” I asked cautiously, facing the old faery again. “What are you looking for?”

“I don’t know.” She sighed heavily, seeming to shrink in on herself. “I don’t remember. I just know I lost it. You haven’t seen it, have you?”

“No,” I told her firmly. “I haven’t seen it.”

“Oh.” The old creature sighed again, shrinking down a little more. “Are you sure? I thought you might have seen it.”

“So, anyway,” Puck broke in, before the conversation could go in another circle. “We’d love to stay and chat, but we’re sort of in a hurry. Can you point us toward the docks?”

The creature’s tongue flicked out, as if tasting the air around Puck. “You’re so bright,” she whispered. “All of you are so bright. Like little suns, you are.” Puck and I shared a glance, and started to back away. “Oh, don’t leave,” the faery pleaded, holding out a withered claw. “Stay. Stay and chat a bit. It’s so cold sometimes. So … cold …” She shivered and, like mist dissolving in the sunlight, faded away. An empty rocking chair, still creaking back and forth, was the only thing left behind.

Puck gave an exaggerated shiver and rubbed his arms. “Okay, that was probably the creepiest thing I’ve seen in a while,” he said with forced cheerfulness. “Who else is for finding this boat and getting the hell outta Dodge?”

“Come on,” the Wolf growled, eager to leave as well. “I can smell the river. This way.” Without waiting for a reply, he turned and padded down the street.

I looked for Grimalkin, not surprised to find he had vanished as well. I hoped that didn’t mean there would be trouble soon. “What do you think she was searching for?” I asked Ariella as we continued through the silent town, following the Wolf’s huge silhouette through the fog. “The creature on the riverbank was looking for something, too. I wonder what they lost that’s so important?”

Ariella shivered, her expression haunted. “Their names,” she said quietly. “I think … they were searching for their names.” She drifted off for a moment, her eyes distant and sad. I felt a twinge of alarm at how much she suddenly resembled the faery in the rocking chair. “I could feel the emptiness inside,” Ariella continued in a near whisper, “the hollow places that consume them. They’re like a hole, an empty spot where you’d expect something to be. That creature in the rocking chair … she was almost gone. I think it was just your and Puck’s glamour that brought her back, if only for a little while.”

Figures were starting to appear through the mist now, strange, unfamiliar creatures with the same dead eyes and empty faces. They stumbled through the town in a daze, as if sleepwalking, barely conscious of their surroundings. Sometimes they would turn to stare at us with blank eyes and detached curiosity, but none made an effort to approach.

A booming roar broke through the muffled silence, and a scuffle ahead in the mist made me draw my sword and hurry over. The Wolf stood, teeth bared and hackles raised, over a figure with tiny hands growing everywhere from its body. The creature’s arms, as well as its dozens of hands, were thrown up to protect it, and it cringed back as the Wolf bared his teeth and went for its throat.

I lunged forward, slamming my shoulder into the Wolf’s head, knocking him aside with a furious yelp. He turned on me with a snarl, and suddenly Puck was there, daggers drawn, standing beside me. Together, we formed a wall between the Wolf and his intended victim, who scurried away on multiple hands and vanished under a building.

The Wolf glared at us, eyes blazing, the hair on his spine standing up. “Move,” he growled, narrowing his eyes. “I’m going to find that thing and rip its head off. Get out of my way.”

“Calm down,” I ordered, keeping my blade between myself and the angry Wolf. “Attack one of them and the whole place might come after us. It’s gone now, so you can’t do anything about it.”

“I’ll kill them all,” the Wolf growled, his voice gone dangerously soft. “I’ll rip every single one of them to bloody shreds. This place isn’t natural. Can’t you feel it? It’s like a starving animal, clawing at us. We should kill every one of them now.”

“I would advise against that,” Grimalkin said, appearing from nowhere. He narrowed his eyes at the Wolf, who stared back murderously. “You would be surprised how many Forgotten exist in this world,” the cat went on. “More than you can imagine, I assure you. And strong emotions like anger and fear will only attract them like ants to honey. So do try to keep your teeth in your jaws without ripping someone’s head off. We might actually make it out of here.”

The Wolf’s baleful glare shifted between me and Grimalkin before he turned away with a snarl, snapping at the air. As he did, I saw the fur on his back and shoulders, normally pitch-black, was streaked with gray, but then he shook himself and the color faded from sight.

“Geez, this place is making even Wolfman twitchy,” Puck said to me in a low voice, watching the Wolf pace back and forth, growling. Beyond him, a crowd was slowly gathering, curious faces emerging from the mist, blank eyes fixed on us. “Let’s find that boat and get out of here before he starts tearing down the walls.”

We followed the muddy street until, at last, it reached the banks of the River of Dreams, still shrouded in white, dark waters lapping softly against the mud. A single wooden dock stretched away until it vanished into the fog, but nothing moved out on the river or through the mists. Everything was overly quiet and still.

“Well, here’s the dock,” Puck said, squinting as he peered through the fog. “But I don’t see a boat. Maybe we have to buy a ticket?”

“You won’t find what you’re looking for standing there,” said a soft voice behind us.

I turned, slower this time, refusing to jump at every creature that popped up out of nowhere. But I still drew my weapon, and I still put a hand on the Wolf’s shoulder to keep him from spinning and biting the speaker’s head off.

At first, I didn’t see anyone behind us. The voice appeared to have come from no one, though there was a long, lean shadow on the ground that seemed attached to nothing.

“Show yourself,” the Wolf growled, curling back his lips. “Before I lose my temper and start tearing out your guts, invisible or not. I can smell you well enough, so you can stop hiding right now.”

“Oh, apologies,” said the voice again, right in front of us. “I keep forgetting….” And, a tall, impossibly thin figure turned out of nowhere, standing in profile so we could see him. He was nearly paper-thin, like the edge of a blade, only visible when viewed from the side. Even in profile he was still impossibly lean and sharp, with gray skin and a striped gray business suit. His fingers, long and spiderlike, waved a greeting, making sure we could see him.

“Better?” he asked, smiling to show thin pointed teeth in a lipless mouth. A name flickered through my mind, keeping just out of reach, before it was gone. “I am the caretaker of this town, the mayor, if you will,” the thin man continued, watching us from the corner of his eyes. “Normally, I am here to greet newcomers and wish them a long and peaceful stay while they wait for the end. But you …” His eyes narrowed, and he tapped the ends of his fingers together. “You are not like the rest of us. Your names have not been forgotten. I am unsure how you even found this place, but it matters not. You do not belong here. You need to leave.”

“We will,” I said as the Wolf’s growls grew louder, more threatening. “We’re just waiting for the ferry. When it comes, we’ll be out of your way.”

The thin man tapped his fingers. “The ferry does not stop here often. Most citizens of Phaed are not even aware of its existence. But, every once in a blue moon, someone will grow tired of searching for something that is clearly not here. They come to the decision that what they seek is beyond Phaed, beyond the river, and they embark on a journey to find what they have lost. Only then does the ferry appear at the end of that pier.” He pointed a long finger toward the dock that vanished into the mist. “The ferry only goes in one direction, and when it comes back around from wherever it has been, it is always empty. No one knows what happens to the passengers that step aboard that ship, but they never come back to Phaed. It’s like they vanish off the edge of the earth.”

“That’s fine,” I told him, ignoring the mock spooky looks Puck was giving me. “We don’t plan to come back, either. When does the ferry appear?”

The thin man shrugged. “Usually a day or two after the decision is made to leave. If you truly wish to wait for it, I suggest you find yourself a place to stay until then. The Wayside Inn is a good choice. Just follow the bank until you see it. It really can’t be missed.”

And with that, he turned, becoming a straight, nearly invisible line, and disappeared.

Ariella sighed, pressing close to me. I felt her shoulder touch mine and resisted the urge to put my arms around her. “Looks like we’re staying here a little while, after all.”

“Only as long as the ferry takes to arrive.” I could feel eyes in the mist and shadows around me, and that strange pull tugged at my insides. “Come on. Let’s find that inn and get out of the street.”

Like the thin man promised, it wasn’t difficult to find the inn, a large, two-story structure on stilts that leaned over the water as if it might topple into the river at any moment. Not surprisingly, it was empty as we walked through the door into a dark, gloomy foyer, the ever-present mist coiling along the floor and around the scattered tables.

“Huh.” Puck’s voice echoed off the walls as we ventured cautiously inside. His boots creaked horribly against the wooden floor as he circled the room. “Helloooooo, room service? Bellboys? Can anyone take my luggage to my suite? Guess this inn is self-serve.”

“The rooms are upstairs,” whispered a voice, and an old woman slithered down from the ceiling. She was more spiderweb than anything, fraying at the edges, though the eyes in the cloudy face were sharp and black. “Five guests? Good, good. You can each choose one. Except for him—” She pointed at the Wolf, who curled a lip at her. “He can take the big room on the end.”

“Good enough,” I said, secretly relieved for the chance to rest. Whether I was still feeling the effects of the hobyah poison or my body was simply reacting to the strain of keeping everyone alive, I was tired, more weary than I had been in a while. I knew the others were feeling it, too. Ariella looked exhausted, and Grimalkin had somehow fallen asleep in her arms, his nose buried under his tail. Even Puck looked worn-out beneath his constant energy, and the Wolf didn’t seem as alert as he normally was, though his temper was definitely wearing thin.

Upstairs, the rooms were small, each containing a table and a single bed beneath a tiny round window. Gazing out, I saw the River of Dreams stretching away beneath me, and the lonely dock in the distance, nearly swallowed up by the mist.

For just a moment, I couldn’t remember why I wanted to go to the dock, though I knew it was important. Shaking my head as memory returned, I sat on the thin mattress, rubbing my eyes. Tired. I was just tired. As soon as the ferry arrived, we could leave this place, and continue toward the edge of the world. And then the Testing Grounds, where I would finally reach the end of my quest. And then my fate would be decided. I’d return to Meghan as a human with a soul, or I wouldn’t return at all. That simple.

Lying back, I put an arm over my face, and everything faded away.

I WAS KNEELING IN A FIELD of bloody snow, countless bodies of Winter and Summer fey surrounding me.

I was standing before Queen Mab, my sword plunged deep in her chest, her dimming eyes filled with shock.

I was sitting on a throne of ice with my queen beside me, a beautiful faery with long silver hair and eyes of starlight.

I was standing on the field of battle once more, watching my army tear through the enemy forces, feeling a savage glee as they killed and maimed and destroyed without mercy. The darkness in me reveled in the blood, drank in the pain, and spread it as far as it could go. But no matter how much pain I felt, the emptiness swallowed it, demanding more, always more. I was a black hole of death, needing to kill, needing to fill the terrible nothingness that existed inside. I’d become a demon, soulless and without pity, and not even Ariella’s presence could sate the despair that drove me to slaughter everything I had once cared for. Only one thing would stop me, and every death, every life I destroyed, brought me that much closer.

She came for me in the end, as I knew she would. I’d made certain it would be her. The terrible Iron Queen, her eyes filled with fury and sorrow, facing me across the ravaged fields of the Nevernever. The days of her pleading with me, trying to reason with me, were long gone. I didn’t remember why I wanted to see her; I didn’t even remember my own name. But I knew she was the reason for my emptiness. She was the reason for everything.

She’d grown stronger during the long years of the war, infinitely more powerful, a true Queen of Faery. I’d killed so many of her subjects, so many fey had died by my hands, but it was the death of a certain Summer Court jester that finally pushed her over the edge. We faced each other, Iron Queen and Unseelie King, as the cold wind howled around us, and knew that whatever feelings we’d once had for each other didn’t matter now. We’d chosen our paths, and now, one way or another, this war would end. Today, one of us would die.

The Iron Queen raised her sword, the sickly light gleaming down the edges of the steel blade as Iron glamour flared around her, a maelstrom of deadly power. I saw her lips move, a name on them, perhaps mine, and felt nothing. My glamour rose up to meet hers, cold and dangerous, and our powers slammed into each other with the roar of dueling dragons.

Flashes of images, like broken mirror shards, falling to the earth. Iron and ice, clashing against each other. Rage and hate, swirling in vicious, ugly colors around us. Glamour and pain and blood.

Myself, deliberately failing to stop the blow that would kill me. The point of a saber, piercing my chest …

I blinked, and the world slowed. I lay on my back, a dull throbbing in the vicinity of my heart, cold and numb and unable to make my body move. Above me, the Iron Queen’s face filled my vision, beautiful and strong, though her face was streaked with tears. She knelt, smoothing the hair from my forehead, her fingers trailing a line of heat across my skin.

I blinked again, and for just a moment, I was the one kneeling in the dirt, clutching the Iron Queen’s body to my chest, screaming into the wind.

Her fingers lingered on my cheek, and I gazed up at her, my vision starting to go fuzzy and dark. A tear splashed against my skin and in that instant, the old me regretted everything; everything that had brought us here, everything I had done. I tried to speak, to beg forgiveness, to tell her not to remember me like this, but my voice failed me and I couldn’t force the words out.

From the corner of my eye, I sensed another presence, watching us from the shadows. It seemed terribly invasive, until I realized it didn’t belong here, that it was somehow separate from this reality.

Meghan bent down, and though I couldn’t hear her, I saw her lips murmur, “Goodbye, Ash.” Then those lips touched my forehead and the darkness flooded in.

CHAPTER ELEVEN THE FERRY

“Prince.”

I groaned.

“Prince.” Something patted my chin. “Wake up.”

Shifting on the mattress, I struggled to open my eyes. There was a solid weight sitting on my chest, but exhaustion was making my lids heavy and awkward. I was tired; I wanted to sink back into oblivion, despite the disturbing dreams that waited for me.

“Hmm. For such a well-trained, somewhat paranoid warrior, you are certainly difficult to rouse. Very well.” The weight on my chest slid off, much to my relief, and I heard a thump as it dropped to the floor and walked away. “We shall have to resort to more drastic measures.”

Just as I was wondering what “drastic measures” were, a patter of footsteps scampered toward the bed. There was a brief pause … and then that solid, heavy weight landed square on my stomach.

“Oof!” I bolted upright with a gasp, the breath driven from my lungs in a painful, vicious expulsion. Instantly awake, I clutched my ribs and glared at Grimalkin, sitting on the bed with a smug, pleased expression on his face.

“All right,” I gritted out, breathing slowly to dispel the nausea, “you have my attention. What do you want, cat?”

“Ah,” he purred, as if nothing had happened. “There you are. I was beginning to think you had died in your sleep.” He stood, waving his tail. “We have trouble. The boat is here, and I cannot wake anyone up.”

“Boat?”

The cat rolled his eyes. “Yes. Boat. The ferry that you are so eager to take to the End of the World? Did you accidentally hit your head before I woke you?” He peered at me, suddenly serious. “There is something strange going on, prince,” he muttered. “I cannot wake any of the others, and it is not like you to forget something this important. How do you feel?”

I thought the strangest occurrence was Grimalkin asking about my health, but after a moment I frowned. “Tired,” I admitted. “Almost drained.”

Grimalkin nodded. “I thought as much. Something about this place is siphoning your strength, your glamour, even your memories.” He blinked and shook himself. “Even I am finding it hard to keep my eyes open. Come.” Turning suddenly, he leaped off the bed. “We must wake the others. If we do not make it to the ferry in time, it will leave, and you will be stuck here forever.”

I stood, frowning as the room spun around me. Rubbing my eyes, I started to follow Grimalkin, but a faint noise outside the window made me pause. Bracing myself against the wall, I looked through the glass and drew in a slow breath.

The inn was surrounded by Forgotten. Hollow-eyed, faded and famished looking, they crowded the muddy road, shoulder to shoulder, staring up at me with slack, open mouths. How long had they stood there, sucking away our glamour, our memories? How long before we became like them, empty and hollow, black holes drawing in every little bit of life?

I stumbled back from the window and into the hall, where Grimalkin waited for me, lashing his tail.

“Hurry,” he hissed, and trotted into the next room. I shook the cobwebs out of my head and followed.

A girl lay on the bed, shifting and moaning as if in the throes of a nightmare, her long silver hair spread over the pillow. For one heart-stopping moment, I couldn’t remember her name, though I knew she was important to me. The sudden worry and protectiveness I felt when I saw her proved it was true.

“Go to her,” Grimalkin said, backing away. “Wake her up. I will attempt to rouse Goodfellow once more. Perhaps he will waken if claws are applied in a strategically important area. Then you can all tackle the dog. I will certainly not partake in that endeavor.” He wrinkled his nose and padded from the room.

I knelt down beside the bed. “Ari,” I muttered, grabbing the delicate shoulders and shaking them gently. “Wake up. We have to go, now.”

Ariella flinched away from me, raising her hands in sleep as if to reach out for someone. “No, Ash … no,” she whispered. “Don’t … please, no.”

“Ari!” I shook harder, jostling her thin frame, but she only whimpered and sank deeper into sleep. Finally, I gathered her to me, lifting her in my arms. She was so light, like twigs held together by wispy cloth. Clutching her to my chest, I stumbled from the room.

Grimalkin met me at the door, followed by a yawning Puck scratching the back of his head. He gave me a sleepy nod as we passed. Together, we ventured into the last room down the hall, where the huge form of the Wolf was curled in a corner, his rumbling snores vibrating the walls.

“Okay,” Puck said, leaning against the doorframe, looking like he was fighting to stay on his feet, “I agree that we have to get out of here now, but … who wants to wake up the puppy?”

I nodded toward a corner. “There’s a broom. I have Ariella—I think you should take care of the Wolf.”

“Hmm, that’s okay, ice-boy. I’m kinda partial to not having my head bitten off.”

“Goodfellow!” Grimalkin spat, right before he disappeared, “Above you!”

I spun, still holding Ariella, as a Forgotten dropped from the ceiling—the innkeeper from before, only now her eyes were blank and glassy, her mouth an open hole as she lurched toward Puck.

The Wolf’s eyes snapped open. Without warning, he sprang to his feet with a roar and lunged through the doorway, massive jaws clamping over the Forgotten’s spindly frame. The faery wailed and dissolved like mist in the breeze, and the Wolf shook his head, turning back to glare at us.

“It’s impossible to sleep with the pair of you around,” he growled, baring his teeth. “Now, are we leaving, or are you two going to stand there barking at each other all night?”

Forgotten were beginning to drift up the stairs like zombies, faces slack and mouths open. Puck and the Wolf met them side by side, teeth and daggers flashing in the dim light, cutting a path to the exit. Ariella sighed and murmured in my arms, and I held her close, determined that no Forgotten would touch her.

We burst through the door of the inn and stopped, staring at the huge mob of Forgotten surrounding the building. The Forgotten stared back, silent and motionless, mouths gaping like landed fish. The Wolf snarled and lunged forward, snapping at the air, and the Forgotten drew back, offering no resistance. But they were so starved for glamour, for memory and emotion and life, that the Wolf stumbled and nearly fell, his strength siphoned away.

The ground lurched, and I nearly sank to my knees, fighting to stay upright. “Keep moving!” I called, as Puck swiped at several Forgotten that pressed closer, driving them back. “Get to the dock! We have to make it to the ferry!”

The Forgotten parted for us like waves, not resisting, forcing no confrontation, but their hunger was a constant thing, draining our life, making it harder and harder to move. I glanced over at Puck and saw him turning as gray and washed-out as the Forgotten around us, his once-bright red hair dull and colorless. I couldn’t see Grimalkin, and hoped the cat wouldn’t simply fade into nothingness while invisible, which we would never know.

The dock loomed before us, a lifeline in the dark, and on the River of Dreams, I saw the faint edges of a ferryboat through the mist. Puck and the Wolf, staggering and nearly leaning on each other, reached it first, and Puck yelled at me to hurry, before vanishing into the fog.

Just as I reached the dock, something latched on to my arm. I felt a stab of pain, an emptiness so strong it was physical, and went to my knees as the sharp thin man appeared before me, his long fingers grasping my arm.

“I figured it out,” he whispered, as I struggled to make my body move, respond, anything. But I was numb, drained, only barely conscious, as the thin man continued to draw out my life. I felt my glamour slipping away with my strength, sucked into the black hole that was the sharp thin man. Ariella slumped against my chest as my grip failed, and his gaze followed her.

“My, you’re strong,” he continued in an amiable voice. “So much life. Such powerful memories and glamour and emotion. You do not belong here. Not yet. Upset the balance, you have. Even those who are nearly faded have come back, and now they will linger even more. Because of you.”

“Not … yet?” I could barely get the words out. The crowd of Forgotten had gathered again, surrounding us with open mouths, their combined pull so strong I nearly collapsed. The thin man looked at me, surprised.

“You do not know?” He tilted his head, and for a moment, it vanished. “Your essence is unraveling. Bit by bit. Soon, you will be unable to remember your name, your promise, who you are, and you will be consumed with filling the emptiness inside. But it will never be enough. In time, you will find your way to Phaed, to remain here with the Forgotten, and the Promise-breakers.” He nodded, a sharp gesture in the coiling fog. “But not yet.”

“Then … you’ll let us … go?”

“Of course you will go,” the sharp thin man said, as if that was obvious. “You will go, and life will return to normal. Everyone will forget, as is their way. You do not belong. But, her—” his gaze sharpened, staring at Ariella “—she must stay. She is the reason you found this place. No essence. No life. She is empty, like we are. She remains.”

I felt a flare of anger, but it was immediately drained away by the thin man. “No,” I muttered, trying to find the strength to pull back, to resist. “I … need her.”

“She remains,” the thin man whispered again, and reached to take her from me.

No! A fierce protectiveness roared to life, drowning out everything else. She would not be taken away. Not again. I would not fail her again.

With the last of my strength, I lunged to my feet and drew my blade, pressing it to the thin man’s neck.

He seemed surprised that I could still move. “She does not belong with you,” he said, watching calmly as I fought to remain on my feet, keep the blade steady and hold the girl to myself with one arm. “She belongs here, with us.”

“I don’t care,” I told him. “I’m not letting her go.”

A roar shattered the stillness, and the Wolf came bounding out of the fog, scattering Forgotten like wispy birds. Shoving his huge body between myself and the thin man, he bared his fangs at the crowd and snarled. “Get going, prince,” he snapped, as the sharp thin man turned to the side and disappeared. “The boat is already leaving. Go!”

Sheathing my sword, I gathered Ariella in both arms and staggered onto the dock, where Puck met me halfway. “Geez, you love to wait till the last dramatic moment, don’t you, ice-boy?” he muttered as we hurried over the planks. At the end of the dock, a small, faded paddleboat covered in moss and vines was pulling away, easing back into the River of Dreams. Grimalkin sat on the railings, watching us with glowing yellow eyes.

“Hurry!” the cat urged as the boat pulled farther away. “They are coming!”

Behind us, I heard the Wolf’s growls as he backed onto the dock, and felt the emptiness of the Forgotten sucking at me, even from this distance. And then they were crawling onto the dock from beneath the water, reaching for us with ghostly fingers, mouths gaping like dead fish. Puck slashed at one, cutting through it like paper, and it frayed into coils of mist, but there were always more, grasping for us, starved and relentless.

The ferry drew farther away.

Thumping footsteps shook the dock, and I turned to see the Wolf hurl himself out of the fog, bounding toward us. Dozens of Forgotten clung to him, hanging off his back and neck as he snarled and growled and snapped, shaking himself free only to have more take their places. The Forgotten crowding around our feet drew back, slipping away toward the Wolf. I started to go after them, but the Wolf turned, meeting my gaze with his burning green eyes, lips peeled back in a snarl.

“Get going!” he roared, and we went, hurrying after the ferry. Puck reached the edge of the dock first and leaped, flailing his arms as he hit and grabbed the railing to keep from falling off. I was right behind him, flinging myself over the dark waters, Ariella featherlight in my arms. I struck the edge of the boat and rolled, curling my body around the girl to protect her, wincing as the edge of a bench hit me in the back.

I staggered upright, laid Ariella on one of the seats, and hurried to the side of the boat, looking for the Wolf. But the fog had curled around the dock, hiding it from view. I still heard the soft splashes of the Forgotten as they hit the water, and the Wolf, snarling through the mist, but I couldn’t see him anymore.

“Pity,” Grimalkin remarked, sounding as if he almost meant it. “I was nearly used to his smell, too.”

And then the dark form of the Wolf leaped from the blanket of fog, hurtling over the river. He landed next to the ferry with a splash, spraying everyone with water, causing Grimalkin to hiss and flee under the benches. Surfacing, the Wolf lunged out of the water, hooked his huge paws over the railing and pulled himself, dripping and panting, onto the deck.

I winced as he shook himself, sending river water flying, soaking us all once more. Yawning, he ignored Puck’s indignant yell and turned to me, gold-green eyes narrowing.

“That is the second time I saved your lives, prince. Be sure to remember that part of the story when you pass it along.”

He yawned again, showing off enormous canines, and padded toward the aft deck, weaving lightly through the aisles of narrow benches. Curling up near the back, he laid his head on his paws, watching us all before his eyes closed and he appeared to fall asleep.

I shook water out of my clothes and took a deep breath, watching the dock slowly vanish behind us in the fog. The ferry slid noiselessly through the River of Dreams, leaving the town far behind. Already, I had forgotten its name. The people, their voices, everything I’d seen and heard, slipping from memory. I struggled to remember something a thin man had told me, something important. Something about Ariella … and myself …

The ferry abruptly broke from the mist, punching through it like a wall, revealing the vast river before us and the night sky above. I blinked and looked around. Puck was standing at the bow of the boat, gazing over the water, and Ariella was asleep on a bench.

I frowned, feeling like I was missing something. I remembered we had been looking for the ferry, walking along the riverbank searching for it, but the memory of us actually boarding was hazy. Had something been chasing us? I vaguely recalled a dock, and carrying Ariella aboard, but beyond that … nothing. I felt groggy and disoriented, as if I’d just woken up from a dream—

The dream. My stomach turned, and I clutched the railing to remain steady on my feet. I remembered the dream. Killing Mab. Ruling Winter. Waging war. Blood and death and violence, the hollow, ravenous void that threatened to drag me down and swallow me whole.

Fighting the Iron Queen. Dying by her hand.

In a daze, I walked to the bench in front of Ariella and sat down, watching her. After a few minutes, her eyelids flickered, and she opened her eyes, blinking at me looming above her.

“Ash?”

“Was it real?” I asked, my voice sounding hoarse and dry in my ears. She frowned and sat up to face me, brushing her hair from her eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“What I saw.” I leaned forward, and she drew back, a wary shadow crossing her face. “That was you, wasn’t it? Showing me the future. Killing Mab. Making myself the Winter King. Going to war with the other courts—” I stumbled to a halt, not wanting to remember beyond that, to see the look on the Iron Queen’s face as she killed me.

Ariella went pale. “You saw … ? Oh, Ash. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for you to see …” She stopped. Took a deep breath. “It must have been the hobyah venom. It made you hypersensitive to dreams and dreamwalking. If you were asleep, you probably—”

“Ari.” My voice was soft, and she blinked at me. I raked a hand through my damp hair, fighting to stay calm, to ignore the darkness clawing at my feet, trying to drag me down. “What I saw. Is this … the future? My future? Am … am I destined to become … that? The destroyer of the courts, slaughtering everything, everyone I know?” Ariella was silent, and I reached out to take her hand, squeezing as if it were a lifeline, holding me to sanity. “Tell me,” I said, forcing out the words. “Tell me, is that what I become?”

“I don’t know, Ash.” Her voice was a whisper, on the verge of tears. “It’s a future, one of several. Probably the worst, but not the most unlikely. You … you have so much darkness in you, so much anger and grief. Not even I could reach you if you gave in to despair, if you broke your promise.” She took a deep breath. “Your essence … when it’s gone you’ll forget everything that makes you … you. Most Promise-breakers just fade away, never to be seen again. But a few, especially those who are strong, become something else entirely.”

“This is what will happen,” I whispered, “if I fail.”

Silence for a moment. The ferry glided steadily through the night, the only sounds the splash of water against the sides and the Wolf’s deep breathing.

“Not necessarily,” Ariella said at last, avoiding my gaze. “Nothing is certain, and that is only one possible future. But … yes. If you fail here, there is a real possibility of losing you to the darkness, and you becoming the Winter King.”

“So it wasn’t just a nightmare,” Puck’s voice broke in. I turned to see him standing behind us, hands in his pockets, watching me with serious green eyes. “Sorry, couldn’t help but overhear you guys,” he continued, not sounding the least bit apologetic. “And you know, I was just thinking, that dream you were talking about. It sounds an awful lot like the one I just had.” His mouth twisted into a smirk, and his gaze narrowed. “Only, in this version, I died. Some Winter King bastard stuck me through the chest while we were fighting. Kinda traumatic, if you know what I mean. And that was after he destroyed most of the Summer Court.”

I held his gaze. Puck didn’t shy away and continued to stare at me, half smile firmly in place. But beyond the smirk, beyond the flippancy and cheek and cocky self-assurance, I could sense the indecision, the fear he never let anyone see.

“Do you regret it?” I asked, and he raised a brow at me. “Do you regret our feud is over, not killing me when you had the chance?”

Puck shot me a painful smile. “Oh, there’s a part of me that will always miss our little duels, prince,” he said cheerfully. “Nothing like a little attempted murder to feel close to someone, right?” He grinned, then a shadow fell over his face, and he sobered, shaking his head. “Truth is, I’m glad it’s done,” he said quietly, scrubbing the back of his head. “I never wanted it, I hated that I always had to watch my back, and I knew you really didn’t want to go through with it either, prince. Especially toward the end.”

“But?” I prompted.

“But, if I see any signs of you becoming … that.” Puck shivered. “If I suspect you’re about to go postal on Mab and take a shot at the Winter throne, I won’t need a formal duel invitation to make me show up in Tir Na Nog.” He crossed his arms and stared at me with a mix of regret and determination. “If it comes to that, prince, I will stop you.”

I stood. A breeze blew across the surface of the river, tossing hair and tugging at clothes. I gripped the railing and stared out over the water, feeling his eyes on my back. “If it comes to that,” I told him quietly, “I’d want you to.”

THE FERRY CONTINUED through the seemingly endless waters of the River of Dreams. The sun never rose, the night never waned; it was all eternal midnight this far into the Deep Wyld. Farther in, the river became crowded with more dream debris, larger and wilder than before. A huge cherry tree, springing from the middle of the river, shedding pink blossoms like falling snow. A glass coffin with a black-haired princess inside, pale hands folded on her stomach as she slept. A long table floated past, complete with a full tea-party set—pot, plates, teacups. Puck snatched a large basket of scones as it drifted by.

How long the ferry slid through the River of Dreams, I wasn’t sure. We took turns at guard duty, ate and slept when we could, and talked among ourselves. Puck quickly grew restless, and being trapped in a small area with a bored Robin Goodfellow and a huge, volatile wolf was a scene from a nightmare. After one hot-tempered explosion that rocked the boat and nearly dumped everyone into the river, I suggested Puck adopt his raven form and “scout ahead,” which he was happy to do, much to everyone’s relief.

After Puck left, things quieted down. Grimalkin slept almost constantly, and the Wolf either paced the deck like a caged tiger or lay curled up at the stern, his burning eyes distant and far away. He rarely spoke to anyone, though there were times, when the Wolf was on guard duty and everyone was supposed to be asleep, that I saw him and Grimalkin talking together, their voices always too low to hear. Awake, they studiously ignored each other or shot contemptuous glances in each other’s direction, but the night I saw them at the bow of the ferry, gazing over the water side by side, I couldn’t help but wonder if their ancient war was just another game they liked to play.

Ariella and I talked sparingly, and when we did, it was often of the present, of the Winter and Summer Courts, of the Iron fey that had so recently invaded our world. We avoided talk of the past, the old hunts and long nights in the wyldwood, though the memories kept springing up whenever we spoke. But ever since the dream with Meghan, Ariella seemed like a different person. She was so quiet, drawn into herself, brooding over a future I could not see. Her smiles seemed rigid and forced, her laughter tinged with melancholy. Once, when I asked if the visions had shown her anything of herself, her eyes glazed over and she stared right through me before she shook herself and waved it off, smiling. But for a long time after, she stared over the River of Dreams, and though I could reach out and touch her, feel her soft skin under my fingertips, it seemed I was staring at a ghost, an echo of a person I once knew.

“Here,” she said one night, joining me at the bow. It was my turn for watch, and I was leaning against the railing staring into the passing forest. When Ariella dropped an orange into my hand, I blinked and looked at her curiously. “Eat something,” she ordered, pointing to the fruit. “I hardly ever see you eat, and I know even you get hungry from time to time.”

“How did you get this?”

She looked embarrassed for a second. “Never mind that. Just eat it, Ash.”

Her tone was full of warning, but I couldn’t let it go. “Where—”

“A group of winged monkeys threw it at me.” Ariella crossed her arms and glared, and I had an odd moment of déjà vu. “On my last watch, we passed an orchard on the banks, and there were at least a dozen monkeys living there, staring down at us. I threw a rock at them and they … threw things back. And not just food items, either.” She blushed with embarrassment and glowered, daring me to laugh. “So you’d better eat that before I stuff something else down your throat, and it won’t be a banana.”

I laughed and raised my hands in surrender. “As you wish, your highness,” I said without thinking, but sobered quickly. Now I knew why this felt so familiar. For just a moment, Ariella had sounded just like Meghan.

And, judging from the look on Ariella’s face as she pulled back, she knew it, too.

Guilt pierced me, sharp and painful. “Hey,” I said, catching her wrist as she started to turn away, “Ari, listen. When this is all over, when we come back from this crazy venture, I’ll make sure you can go home if you want to.” She blinked and gazed up at me, as if such a thought had never occurred to her. “Your father’s estates are still standing,” I went on. “No one has tried to claim them yet. Or you can return to court—I don’t think Mab will try to stop you. If she does, I can talk to her. I still have some influence in the Winter Court, no matter what Mab thinks of me. I want you to know that you’ll be taken care of. I can give you that much, at least.”

She smiled faintly, though her gaze was distant and unreachable. “If I had wanted any of those things, I would already have them,” she replied in a gentle voice. “I’m grateful, Ash, but it’s far too late for me to return to that life.”

“I want to help you,” I told her quietly. “Anything in my power, anything I can give freely is yours. Let me try to make this right. Just tell me what to do.”

She stepped closer, placing a soft hand on my cheek, so near I could see my reflection in her starry eyes. “Finish this quest,” she whispered, and pulled away, walking to the aft of the ferry without looking back.

AN INDEFINITE TIME later, I woke from a dreamless sleep and gazed around, realizing it was nearly my turn for watch again. On the opposite bench, Ariella slept soundly, a purring Grimalkin curled up beside her. A strand of silver hair fell across her eyes, and I raised my hand to brush it away before I realized what I was doing.

Clenching my fist, I turned and wandered toward the bow of the ship, where the Wolf sat in the moonlight, gazing out over the river. His ears were pricked, his nose raised to the wind, the breeze ruff ling his glossy black pelt.

“Change is coming,” he rumbled as I stepped up beside him and leaned against the rails, carefully balancing my weight. Even when the Wolf was sitting down, the top of my head was barely level with his shoulder, and wherever he went, the boat tilted, very slightly, to the side. “I can smell it. Either something is approaching us, or we’re very nearly there.”

I looked down, watching a fish twice as long as the ferry brush up against the side, regard us with one enormous silver eye, and sink back into the depths. “Do you think we’ll hit anything before we reach the Briars?”

“Hard to say,” the Wolf replied. “I’m surprised we made it this far without any trouble. If you believe the cat, it’s because the ferry is a part of the river, and passes through dreams without drawing any attention to itself or its passengers.” He snorted and curled a lip, as if just realizing he had spoken about Grimalkin in a nonviolent manner. “If you can believe anything he says, anyway. Besides, that will probably change once we hit the Briars.”

“How far?” I asked.

“Couldn’t tell you.” The Wolf raised his head and sniffed again. “But it’s close. The Briars has a particular smell, unlike anything else in Faery.” He turned and regarded me with burning, yellow-green eyes. “I hope your girl knows the way. I’ve stalked the Briars countless times, and I’ve never seen the End of the World.”

“She’ll get us there,” I said softly. “I trust her.”

“Really?” The Wolf snorted, looking back toward the river. “I wouldn’t.”

I turned, narrowing my gaze. “What do you mean?”

“Pah, boy. Can’t you smell it? I guess you wouldn’t.” The Wolf turned as well, lowering his head so we were face-to-face. “Your girl is hiding something, little prince,” he said in a low growl. “She reeks of sadness, of indecision and guilt. And desire, of course. It’s even stronger than yours. Oh, don’t pretend not to know what I’m talking about. Both of you smell like rutting deer that don’t know whether to flee or just get on with it.” He bared his fangs in a brief smile as I glared. “But I would be careful around her, boy. There’s something she hasn’t told you. I don’t know what it is, nor do I care, but she doesn’t want this journey to end. You can see it in her eyes.”

I glanced at Ariella, knowing the Wolf was right. She was hiding something, something more than her emotions or her visions or the many futures I knew she had seen. I saw the gleam of golden eyes on the bench and knew Grimalkin was watching me, but at that moment I heard the flapping of wings, and a large black bird swooped in to perch on the deck.

It changed to Puck in a swirl of feathers, making the Wolf wrinkle his nose and sneeze. “Heads-up,” Puck announced, raking feathers from his hair. “We’re coming up on the Briars, and it looks like the river goes right through it.”

CHAPTER TWELVE THROUGH THE BRIARS

The Briars rose before us like the black face of a cliff, an endless wall of thorns, vines and branches, clawing at the sky. From a distance, they appeared to move, swaying and writhing, never still. Of all the places in Faery, the Briars were the most mysterious, and one of the most feared. It was here long before the first faery emerged from human dreams, and was said to encircle the entire Nevernever. No one knew how it came to be. But everyone knew about it. Within the thorns, the trods to every door and gateway in the human world lay hidden and well protected, waiting to be discovered. Find the right trod, and you could go anywhere in the world. That is, if you could survive the things that lived in the thorns. And the Briars themselves were always hungry.

No one had ever traveled all the way through the thorns; there were rumors that the maze went on forever. But if what Ariella said was true, the End of the World lay beyond the Briars, and somewhere beyond that lay the Testing Grounds.

The five of us—myself, Ariella, Puck, Grimalkin, and the Wolf—stood side by side at the front of the boat, watching the Briars loom before us. The river wound sleepily toward the wall of thorns, into a tunnel of interlocking branches. As we drew closer, we could hear the Briars move, creaking and slithering, eager to welcome us into its embrace.

“Quick question.” Puck’s voice broke the silence. “Did anyone think to bring a can of Off?”

The Wolf gave him a confused look, and I raised an eyebrow. “Do we even want to know?”

“Mmm, probably not.”

Ariella leaned forward, gazing up at the looming expanse of black thorns, awe written plainly on her face. For a moment, it reminded me of the first time I had seen her, that pretty young girl staring at the winter palace in amazement, still innocent of the ways of the Unseelie Court.

But she was different now, not the girl I had once known.

Ariella caught me looking at her and smiled. “I’ve never seen the Briars,” she said, glancing back at the wall of thorns. “Not like this. They’re so much bigger in person.”

The Wolf snorted, wrinkling his nose. “I hope you know where you’re going, girl,” he said in a dubious voice. “If we get lost in there, you’ll be the first one I’m going to eat to keep from starving. Well, after the cat, anyway.”

I glared at the Wolf, but Ariella shook her head. “We won’t have to worry about getting lost,” she said in a distant voice, not even looking at us. “The river will take us where we need to go. To the End of the World.”

“Great,” Puck said, grinning and rubbing his hands. “Sounds easy enough. Let’s just hope we don’t fall off the edge.”

Gripping the railing, I stared up at the moving wall. This is it. The last barrier before the End of the World, and one step closer to keeping my promise. Meghan, I’m almost there. Wait for me just a little longer.

As the ferry slipped beneath the Briars, what little light there was dimmed to almost nothing, leaving us in pitch darkness. Extending my arm, I drew a tiny bit of glamour from the air, and a globe of faery fire appeared in my palm, washing everything in pale blue light. I sent the ball ahead of us, lighting the way down the channel, where it bobbed and weaved and cast weird shadows over the bristling tunnel walls.

Grimalkin sniffed. “I do hope that does not attract anything,” he mused, watching the bobbing light as if it was a bird, just out of his reach. “We are not will-o’-the-wisps, trying to get creatures to follow us, after all. Perhaps you should put it out?”

“No.” I shook my head. “If something comes at us in here, I want to see it.”

“Hmm. I suppose not everyone can have a cat’s perfect night vision, but still …”

Puck snorted. “Yeah, your perfect kitty vision does us no good if you don’t warn us that something is coming once in a while. Poofing away doesn’t count. This way, we can at least have a heads-up.”

The cat thumped his tail. “Additionally, you can paint a neon sign over our heads that says, ‘Easy meal, follow the flashing lights.’”

“Or we could use you for bait….”

“Does anyone else hear that?” Ariella asked.

We froze, falling silent.

The Briars were never still, always rustling, slithering or creaking around us, but over the thorns and the sloshing of water against the branches, I could hear something else. A faint chittering noise, like claws clicking over wood. Getting closer …

The Wolf growled low in his chest, the fur along his spine beginning to rise. “Something is coming,” he rumbled right before Grimalkin vanished.

I drew my sword. “Puck, get some light back there now.”

Faery fire exploded overhead, a flash of emerald-green, lighting the passageway behind us. In the flare, hundreds of shiny, eight-legged creatures scuttled back from the sudden light. The tunnel was full of them, pale and bulbous, with bodies the size of melons and multiple thin legs. But their faces, elven and beautiful, stared down at us coldly, and they bared mouthfuls of curved black fangs.

“Spiders,” Puck groaned, and drew his knives as the Wolf’s growls turned into snarls. “Why does it always have to be spiders?”

“Get ready,” I muttered, drawing glamour to me in a cold cloud, feeling Puck do the same. “This could get messy.”

Hissing, the swarm attacked, dropping from the ceiling with muffled thumps, legs clicking as they scuttled over the deck. They were surprisingly quick, leaping at us with bared fangs, legs uncurling as they flew through the air.

I hurled a flurry of ice shards at the attacking swarm, killing several in mid-leap, and raised my sword as the rest came on. I cut a spider out of the air, ducked as another flew at my face and speared a third rushing at my leg. Ariella stood behind me, firing arrows into the swarm, and the Wolf roared as he bounded and spun, ripping spiders from his pelt and crushing them in his jaws. Puck, covered in black ichor, dodged the spiders that sprang at him and kicked the ones that got too close, sending them flying into the waters below.

“Aggressive little buggers, aren’t they?” he called, yanking a spider from his leg and hurling it over the railing. “Kinda like redcap spawn, only uglier.” He ducked as a spider flew overhead, hissing, only to be snapped out of the air by the Wolf. “Hey, prince, remember that time we stumbled into a hydra nest, just as all the eggs were hatching? I didn’t know hydras could lay up to sixty eggs at a time.”

I sliced two spider creatures from the air at once, black ichor splattering my face and neck. “Now’s really not the time to reminisce, Goodfellow.”

Puck yelped and cursed, slapping away a spider on his neck, his hand coming away stained with red. “I wasn’t reminiscing, ice-boy,” he snapped, angrily kicking the spider away. “Remember that cool little trick we did? I think we should do that now!”

The spiders’ numbers were increasing; I’d cut one down only to have four others come at me from all sides. They were everywhere now, crawling over the railing and skittering across the roof. Ariella and I stood back-to-back, protecting each other, and the Wolf was going berserk, bucking and rolling as spiders crawled all over him like monster ticks.

“Come on, prince! Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten!”

I hadn’t forgotten. I knew exactly what he wanted me to do. It was risky and dangerous and would take a lot out of us both, but if the spiders kept coming, we might not have a choice.

“Ash!”

“All right!” I yelled back. “Let’s do it. Ari, stay close. Everyone else, take cover now!”

I stopped fighting for an instant, feeling several of the creatures land on me, their slender legs scuttling up my clothes. Ignoring them, I knelt and drove the point of my sword into the wooden floor.

There was a flash of blue, and ice spread out from my blade, covering everything. In an instant, it had coated the deck, the railings, the benches, even some of the spider things, freezing them in place. It covered the branches of the thorns around us and spread a thin sheet of ice over the water around the boat. Though the spider things continued to pour out of the brambles, dropping onto the deck, for a moment, there was absolute, frozen silence.

“Now,” Puck muttered, and I pulled up my blade.

The ice shattered. With the sound of breaking glass, it fractured into thousands of razor-sharp edges, glinting in the darkness. And at that instant, Puck unleashed the whirlwind.

With a roar of Summer glamour, Puck’s cyclone whipped through the thorns and surrounded the boat, shrieking and causing the small craft to lurch sideways. It picked up debris in its wake, branches, spider bodies and thousands of fractured ice shards, spinning them through the air with the force of a tornado. I grabbed Ariella and pulled her close as the Wolf hunkered down beside us, hunching his shoulders against the wind.

When the winds finally ceased, we were surrounded by twigs, branches, melting ice and spider parts, oozing over everything. Icicles stuck out of the benches and walls like crystal shrapnel, and black ichor was splattered everywhere.

“Yes!” Puck cheered as I sat down on the floor, leaning against the railing. “Home team, one—spiders, zero!”

Ariella looked at me with wide eyes. “I never saw you two do that before.”

“It was a long time ago,” I said tiredly. “Before we ever met. When Puck and I …” I trailed off, remembering the years when Robin Goodfellow and Prince Ash thought they could take on the world. Reckless and defiant, spurning the laws of the courts, they sought out new and greater challenges, always reaching for more, and got into more scrapes than anyone had a right to come out of alive. I shook my head, dissolving the memories. “It was a long time ago,” I finished.

“Regardless.” Grimalkin abruptly materialized, sitting on a bench with not a hair out of place, his tail curled around himself. “If the two of them have any more tricks like that, they would do well to remember them. Summer and Winter glamour, when used in conjunction instead of against each other, can be a powerful thing. Thankfully, neither of the courts has ever figured this out.”

The Wolf shook himself, spraying ichor and spider parts everywhere, making Grimalkin lay back his ears. “Magic and parlor tricks,” the Wolf snorted, wrinkling his muzzle, “will not get us to the End of the World.”

“Well, duh,” Puck shot back. “That’s why we’re on a boat.”

The Wolf gave him a sinister look, then stalked to the front of the boat, not caring about the spider parts scattered about the deck. For a moment, he stood there, sniffing the air, ears pricked forward for any hints of trouble. Finding none, he curled up in a relatively clean spot and closed his eyes, ignoring us all.

Ariella looked down at me, then at Puck, who was yawning and scrubbing the back of his head. “That took a lot of power, didn’t it?” she mused, and I didn’t argue. Releasing an explosion like that would leave anyone drained. Ariella sighed and shook her head. “Get some rest, the both of you,” she ordered. “Grim and I will take last watch.”

I DIDN’T THINK I WOULD SLEEP, but I dozed fretfully as the ferry made its way through the endless tangle of brambles. Despite assurances from Ariella and the Wolf that nothing followed us, I found it impossible to relax. Often, I would be jerked awake by a splash or a snapping of twigs somewhere in the thorns, and every once in a while the scream of some unfortunate creature would echo through the branches. Eventually, everyone gave up trying to rest and spent the journey in a constant and exhausting state of high alert. Except Grimalkin, who vanished frequently and made everyone nervous while he was gone.

The Briars went on, never changing, never still. I caught glimpses of various doors through the thorns, trods to places in the mortal world, doorways out of the Nevernever. Creatures seen and unseen skittered through the branches, furry or shiny or many-limbed, peering at us through the thorns. A giant centipede, over twenty feet long, clung to the roof of the tunnel as we drifted beneath it, close enough that we could hear the slow clicking of its huge mandibles. Thankfully, it didn’t seem interested in us, but Puck kept his daggers out for several miles afterward, and Grimalkin didn’t reappear for a long, long time.

Hours passed. Or days—it was impossible to tell. The Wolf and I were standing at the rear of the boat, watching an enormous snake glide through the branches overhead, when Ariella’s weary voice floated up from the front.

“There it is.”

I turned as the tunnel opened up into an enormous cavern made of thorns, the branches shutting out the sky. Tiny lights filled the cavern, floating in the air and bobbing over the dark waters like erratic fireflies. Torches stuck out of the river, some bent or leaning at odd angles, flickering with blue-and-orange flames. They lit the way to a massive stone temple looming at the end of the cavern. It rose from the dark waters past the ceiling of the cave, extending through the branches farther than we could see. Vines, moss and thorny creepers covered the crumbling walls, winding like possessive talons around pillars and laughing gargoyles. Even in a place as ageless as the Nevernever and the Deep Wyld, where time didn’t exist and ancient was only a word, this temple was oldest.

I took a deep, slow breath. “Did we make it?” I asked softly, unable to take my eyes from the massive wall of stone that loomed before us like the side of a mountain. “Is this the Testing Grounds?”

Beside me, Ariella shook her head. “No,” she whispered, almost in a daze. “Not yet, though I’ve seen this in my visions. The Testing Grounds lie beyond the temple. This is the gate to the End of the World.”

“Big gate,” Puck muttered, craning his neck to look up at it. No one answered him.

The River of Dreams continued, past the temple, into the thorns that surrounded the cavern, but the boat drifted lazily until it bumped against the huge stone steps that led up to the doors, and stopped.

“Guess this is our stop,” Puck said, and practically leaped out of the ferry onto the steps. “Whew, it’s nice to be back on solid ground again,” he mused, stretching as the rest of us followed, easily crowding onto the platform at the bottom. Grimalkin appeared from under one of the benches, minced to the bottom of the steps, and began rigorously washing his tail.

Gazing up the long flight of stairs to the temple, Puck shook his head and sighed. “Stairs.” He grimaced. “I swear there must be like some secret code. All mysterious ancient temples must have a minimum of at least seven thousand steps to the front door.”

I followed his gaze, frowning as I realized we weren’t alone. “Someone is up there,” I said quietly. “I can sense it. It feels … like it’s waiting for me.”

The rest of the group exchanged glances, except for Ariella, who stood a little apart, staring back at the river. “Well, then—” Puck sighed with exaggerated cheerfulness “—I guess it would be rude to keep it waiting.”

He and the Wolf and Grimalkin started up the stairs, but paused when I didn’t follow. “Uh, prince, aren’t you coming?” Puck said, glancing back at me. “Seeing as this is, you know, your party and all.”

“Keep going,” I said, waving them on. “We’ll catch up. Yell if something comes at you.”

“Oh, believe me, I will,” Puck said, and continued up the stairs, Grim and the Wolf leading the way.

I turned to Ariella, who still gazed out over the River of Dreams, not looking at me. “Ari,” I said quietly, stepping up behind her, “what is it?”

She was silent for several heartbeats, and I was beginning to wonder whether she’d heard me at all, when she took a shaky breath and closed her eyes.

“We’re almost there,” she whispered, and a shiver went through her. “I didn’t think it would be so soon. I guess … there’s no turning back now.”

“Ari.” I stepped closer, putting a hand on her arm. “Talk to me. I want to help you, but I can’t if you won’t let me in. I could—”

She turned suddenly, and before I could react, framed my face with her hands and pressed her lips to mine.

I froze, mostly in shock, but after a moment my body uncoiled and I closed my eyes, relaxing into her. I remembered this; the feel of her lips on mine, cool and soft, the touch of her fingers on my skin. I remembered her scent, those long nights when we would lie under the cold, frozen stars, dreaming in each other’s arms.

For a second, my body reacted instinctively. I started to pull us closer, to wrap my arms around her and return the kiss with equal passion … but, then I stopped.

I remembered this perfectly; every shining moment with Ariella was forever etched into my mind. What we’d had, what we’d shared, everything. I’d built a shrine to her in my memories, carefully tended with grief and anger and regret. I knew every inch of our relationship, the passion, the feeling of emptiness when we weren’t together, the longing and, yes, the love. I had been in love with Ariella. I remembered what she’d meant to me once, what I’d felt for her then …

… and what I didn’t feel for her now.

Gently, I put my hands on her shoulders and pushed her back, breaking the kiss. “Ari—”

“I love you, Ash,” she murmured before I could say anything more, and my stomach dropped. Her voice was quietly desperate, as if she was rushing to get it out before I could speak. “I never stopped. Never. Even when I knew you would fall for Meghan, when I was so angry I wished we were both dead, even then I couldn’t stop loving you.”

My throat closed. I swallowed hard to open it. “Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because I won’t get another chance,” Ariella went on, her eyes filling with tears. “And I know, after your promise to Meghan, after everything we went through to get here, I know you can’t turn back, but …” She pressed close, gazing up at me. “Do you still love me? I can’t … I need to know, before we go any farther. I deserve to know that much.”

I closed my eyes. Emotions swirled within me, guilt and sorrow and regret, but for once, my thoughts were clear. “Ariella,” I murmured, taking her hands in mine, feeling her pulse race. This would be hard to say, but I needed to get it out, and she needed to hear it. Even if she hated me in the end. “When I lost you that day, my life ended. I thought I would die. I wanted to die, but only after taking Puck down with me. The only thing I was living for was revenge, and I nearly destroyed myself, because I couldn’t let you go. Even when I met Meghan, I felt I was betraying your memory.

“But it’s different now.” I opened my eyes, meeting her starry gaze. “I regret a lot of things. I wish I could’ve been there for you, and I wish that day had never happened. But the thing I don’t regret, the one good thing that came out of it all, is her.

“Ari … I will always love you. I always have. Nothing will change that.” I squeezed her hand, then gently released it. “You’ll always be a part of me. But … I’m not in love with you … anymore. And, despite my promise, despite seeing you again, I do this because I want to be with Meghan, nothing else.” Ariella’s eyes glazed over, and I eased back, speaking as gently as I could. “I can’t be yours, Ariella. I’m sorry.”

For a moment, she stared at me with a completely unreadable expression. Then, unexpectedly, a sad smile crossed her lips.

“That’s it, then,” she murmured, more to herself than me. “For us, anyway.” I blinked, and she glanced up at me, her starry eyes clear. “I didn’t want you to have any doubts, in the end.”

“Is that what you wanted?” I stared at her, aghast. “Were you just forcing me into a decision?”

“No, Ash. No.” Ariella put a hand on my arm. “I meant what I said. I’ve always loved you, and I wanted you to know before …” She shivered, hugging herself as she stepped back. “I’m happy for you,” she whispered, though her eyes were glassy once more. “You know what you want, and that’s good. It will make it easier….”

“What are you talking about?”

“Oy, ice-boy!” Puck’s voice came, rough with disapproval, from farther up the stairs. “I think you’d better get up here now!”

I scowled at Puck, cursing his timing, and glanced at Ariella. She gazed up the steps, her cheeks dry, her expression resolved. I sensed she was making peace with herself, coming to some important decision.

“A r i …”

“It’s all right, Ash.” Ariella raised a hand, not meeting my eyes. “Don’t worry about me. I knew, eventually, it would come to this.” She took a breath, let it out slowly. “It’s time to move on, for both of us.

“So, let’s go,” she said, turning and giving me a brave smile. “We’ve finally come to the end. We can’t stop now.”

PUCK WAITED FOR US NEAR the top of the staircase, the Wolf growling low in his chest beside him. But Grimalkin was also there, calmly licking a front paw in between disdainful glances at the Wolf, so I relaxed a bit. When the cat disappeared, then I would worry.

Still, Puck looked grave as we joined him, nodding to the top of the stairs. “We’ve got company,” he muttered, and I looked up.

A figure stood at the top of the stairs, robed and hooded, and nearly eight feet tall. Its face was hidden in the darkness of the cowl, and a pale, bony hand clutched a gleaming staff of twisted black wood.

And, though I couldn’t see its face, I felt it was looking right at me.

“I know why you have come, knight of the Iron Court.”

The deep voice shivered into me, coming from everywhere, from the thorns and the river and the temple itself. It echoed in my head and in my bones, cold and powerful and older than the stars. It took all my willpower not to sink to one knee before the robed figure, and by Puck’s lack of an irreverent smirk and the hair standing up along the Wolf’s spine, I knew they felt it, too.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“I am the Guardian at the End of the World,” the figure intoned. “I am the keeper of the Testing Grounds, the one you will have to impress to earn your soul.”

“And you came out just to say hi? That’s awfully considerate of you.” Puck regained his grin and turned to me. “Don’t you feel special, ice-boy? We didn’t even have to go to the End of the World. Be polite to the nice hooded man, and maybe you’ll get a soul.”

“But first, to reach the End of the World, to prove that you are worthy, you must run the gauntlet.”

“I knew it.” Puck shook his head. “There’s always a catch.”

I ignored Puck, taking a step toward the hooded figure. “I’m ready,” I said, searching for a face behind that dark cowl, finding nothing. “Whatever you throw at me—gauntlets, tests, anything—it won’t matter. I’m ready. What do I have to do?”

The Guardian didn’t seem surprised. “This trial is not only for you, knight,” it said, sweeping a robed arm at the group behind us. “Anyone who wishes to see the End of the World must first make it through the gauntlet. Alone, you will fail. Together, you might have a chance to overcome the challenges. But know this—not all who enter the temple will leave. Of that, you can be certain.”

My stomach dropped. I didn’t doubt his words, much as I hated to accept them. The Guardian was telling us that not everyone would survive the gauntlet. That one or more of us was going to die.

“One thing more.” The Guardian raised a hand in the silence of that revelation. “You do not have long to find me, knight. Once the doors open, at both ends of the gauntlet, they will not remain that way forever. If you are still in the temple when they close, you will be trapped there until the end of time, joining those who have already failed. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I said numbly. The cowl nodded once.

“Then I will see you at the End of the World, knight. Where, if you make it through, your real trial will begin.”

And just like that, it was gone. It didn’t fade away or vanish in a puff of smoke or even disappear like Grimalkin, becoming invisible. It simply wasn’t there anymore.

I stood at the top of the stairs, feeling my companions’ gazes at my back, and raised my head.

“Anyone who wants to turn back, should,” I said quietly without turning around. “You heard what the Guardian said. Not all of us will make it out of here. I won’t hold anything against you if you want to leave.”

I heard Puck’s snort of disgust as he climbed the last of the stairs and stood before me, crossing his arms. “What, and let you have all the fun? You should know me better than that, ice-boy. Though, I will admit, the thought of being trapped with you forever makes my skin crawl. Guess we’ll have to make sure that doesn’t happen, huh?”

“I’ve come this far,” the Wolf growled, padding forward to stand behind Puck. “No good turning back now. I said I’d see you to the End of the World, and I will. The cat can leave if it wants. That would be in tune with its cowardice. But the story must go on.”

“Please.” Grimalkin trotted up the steps and turned to glance back at me, twitching his tail. “As if I would allow myself to become trapped with the dog until the end of time.” He sniffed and curled his whiskers. “Fear not, prince. There is no doubt that I will leave if I think that you are close to failure. But these gauntlets always have some sort of ridiculously aimless puzzle or mind game to solve, and you will likely need someone with intelligence before it is done. Besides, you still owe me a favor.”

I nodded at them all and turned to Ariella, still standing a few steps down, gazing through me at the temple. “You don’t have to do this,” I told her gently. “You got us this far—you’ve done more than I could’ve asked for. You don’t have to go any farther.”

She smiled that sad little smile and took a deep breath. “Yes,” she whispered, meeting my gaze. “I do.” Climbing the stairs, she came to stand beside me, taking my arm. “To the end, Ash. I’ll see you to the very end.”

I put my hand on hers and squeezed. Puck grinned at us, and the Wolf snorted, shaking his head. With Grimalkin leading the way, the five of us approached the massive stone doors to the temple. With an earth-shaking rumble, they slowly opened, showering us with pebbles and dirt. Beyond the doors, everything was cloaked in darkness.

We didn’t stop. With Ariella and Puck beside me, the Wolf loping behind us, and Grimalkin leading the way, we crossed the threshold and entered the gauntlet.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN THE GAUNTLET

As I expected, the temple, though huge from the outside, didn’t conform to normal space. The first room we came to, past the long, narrow hallway, was a large, open courtyard, surrounded by walls and covered in moss. Strange beams of light slanted down from somewhere above, and broken statues, pillars and enormous stones were scattered throughout. The chamber looked like a miniature labyrinth of crumbled walls, archways and columns, covered in vines and shattered with the weight of time.

Ahead of us, a pair of huge double doors stood atop a platform, guarded by two hulking stone creatures, one on either side. The statues looked like a cross between a lion and some sort of monstrous canine, with broad heads, curling manes and thick, clawed forepaws.

“Fu dogs,” Puck mused as we approached the doors, hopping over shattered pillars and crumbling archways. “You know, I met a Fu dog once in Beijing. Persistent bastard chased me all over the temple grounds. Seemed to think I was some kind of evil spirit.”

“Imagine that,” Grimalkin muttered, and the Wolf snorted with laughter. Puck flicked a pebble at him.

“These aren’t like the standard variety,” Puck continued, making a face at the stone guardians. “They’re bigger, for one. And older. Good thing they’re not real Fu dogs, eh? We’d be in big trouble if—”

And of course at that point, a loud grinding sound echoed through the room, as both statues turned their heads to stare at us.

I sighed. “You should know better by now, Goodfellow.”

“I know. I just can’t help it.”

With snarling roars, the pair of massive stone guardians leaped from their bases, landing with deafening booms on the rocky floor, shaking the ground. Their eyes burned with an emerald fire in their craggy faces, their paws crushed the stones beneath them and their bellowing voices filled the chamber. Grimalkin vanished, the Wolf added his own howling roar to the cacophony, and the Fu dogs lowered their heads and charged.

As one Fu dog barreled past, I vaulted aside, cutting at its flank as it thundered by. My blade screeched off the stony hide, leaving a trail of frost and a shallow scratch, but the monster didn’t even notice. It plowed headfirst into a stone pillar, smashing it to rubble, before it whirled around, completely unharmed, and lowered its head for another charge.

An ice arrow shattered off the broad muzzle as the Fu dog galloped toward me, as Ariella tried to catch its attention, but it didn’t slow the dog. I dodged as it roared by, plowing straight through a wall like a furious bull, showering itself with rocks. A quick glance showed Puck bound onto a pillar to avoid the second statue, which simply rammed its head into the stone base to knock the pillar down. Puck managed to hop onto a second column as the Wolf lunged at the Fu dog, fangs flashing for its thick neck. He bounced off the stony hide with a yelp that was more anger than pain, and the Fu dog whirled around to attack.

This wasn’t working. And we didn’t have time to play keep-away with a pair of murderous stone giants. “Retreat!” I called, ducking behind a headless statue to avoid being trampled by the first guardian, which grunted and spun around before hitting anything. “Puck, get to the doors, we don’t have time for this!”

“Oh sure, prince! You make it sound so easy!”

The Fu dog attacking me rumbled a growl and stalked forward. Apparently it had given up blindly charging forward in the hopes of smashing me into paste. From the corner of my eye, I spotted Ariella pulling back her bow for another shot, and waved her back without taking my attention from the dog.

“Ari, don’t worry about me. Just go.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! Get to the doors—I’ll be right behind you.”

Ariella slipped behind a wall and out of sight. The Fu dog glanced her way, growling, but I hurled an ice dagger at its face, smashing it right between the eyes, bringing its attention back to me with a roar.

It lunged forward, teeth bared, claws raking deep gouges in the floor. As it pounced, I leaped up, vaulting off its snout and landing on its broad shoulders. For a split second, I saw a flash of gold on its bright red collar, but then I was hurtling off its back and running toward the doors, where Puck and Ariella waited for me.

The Wolf was keeping the other Fu dog busy, dancing around and snapping at its back feet as it whirled on him. As I bounded up the stairs, the guardian turned on me with a snarl, but the Wolf lunged forward and slammed his shoulder into it, rocking it back, keeping its focus on him. I reached Puck and Ariella, who looked grave as they turned to me.

“No good.” Puck frowned and punched the stone door, making a hollow thump. “The sucker won’t budge. I think there’s a key or something to open it. Look.”

He pointed to the doors, where two indentations side by side formed perfect half circles that met where the two doors came together, making a full sphere. A key of some sort, which probably meant it was lost or hidden somewhere in the room. With the two Fu dogs. I sighed in frustration.

“The collars, you fools.” Grimalkin appeared on one of the statue bases, ears back, lashing his tail. “Look at their collars. Must I do everything around here?” He vanished again, just as a Fu dog charged up the steps and lunged at us.

We dove aside, and the dog rammed into the doors with a boom that shook the ceiling. Shaking its head, it backed off, and I saw that same flash of gold around its neck, like a tag. Or a globe that had been cut in half …

I glanced at Puck. “You take one, I’ll get the other?”

“You’re on, ice-boy.”

We scattered to different corners of the room, Ariella following me, Puck leaping down to help the Wolf. As I’d hoped, my Fu dog stalked us persistently through the labyrinthine ruins, shattering pillars and bursting through walls to give chase.

“What’s the plan?’ Ariella whispered as we ducked around a corner, pressing our backs against the wall. A few feet away, the Fu dog stalked past, growling, so close I could’ve reached around the corner and touched it. Several aisles over, somewhere in the maze, I heard a crash and saw a cloud of dust billow into the air; the second guardian was close.

“Stay here,” I told Ariella. “Get out of sight. I want that thing to focus on me and nothing else. If Puck does what he’s supposed to, this should be over soon.” A pillar toppled over nearby, followed by a frustrated snarl. “Head toward the door and wait for us,” I continued. “Find Grim and the Wolf if you can. We’ll be there as soon as we can with the keys.”

“How—” Ariella began, but with a crash and a shattering of stone, the Fu dog burst through a nearby wall and roared as it spotted me.

I took off, sprinting deeper into the ruins, hearing the guardian close on my heels. Rocks flew and statues shattered into marble dust as the massive stone creature hurled itself through the aisles after me.

I turned the corner of a dilapidated wall, and suddenly Puck was there, running straight at me from the opposite direction. His green eyes widened as we closed, but it was what I was looking for. We both immediately dove aside as the Fu dogs turned the corner and slammed into each other with a crack that shook the earth.

The force rocked the two stone giants back, and for a moment they stood still, completely dazed. I saw one had a broken nose, and the other had a crack running down its face like a jagged scar. Lying on his stomach on the other side of the aisle, Puck raised himself to his elbows and grinned in triumph.

“You know, no matter how often I see that, it never gets old.”

I scrambled to my feet. “Grab the key,” I snapped, approaching one Fu dog. Still dazed, it didn’t notice me as I stepped up and snatched the golden half orb from around its neck. Puck did the same with the second one, pausing a moment to grin at the stupefied guardian.

“Bet that stung, didn’t it?” he said, waving the orb in front of the dog’s face. “Yeah, that’ll give you a headache for weeks. That’s what you get for being so bullheaded.”

“Puck!” I turned to glare at him. “Stop being an idiot and let’s get out of here.”

Puck laughed and sauntered toward me, tossing the half orb in one hand. “Ah, the oldies are always the goodies,” he muttered, joining me at the corner. “Hey, remember when we pulled that little stunt on the minotaurs? They were so out of it they—”

Two very low, very angry growls stopped him midsentence. I shot Puck a death glare, and he gave a feeble smile.

“I know, I know. You’re going to kill me.”

We fled through the ruins, the spheres clutched tightly in hand, the Fu dogs crashing behind us. No side trips or luring the dogs around corners this time; we went straight for the doors, taking the shortest route possible. I saw Ariella at the foot of the stairs, her bow pulled back and aimed at the dogs, her lips drawn into a thin line of frustration. She knew her arrows could do no more than make the Fu dogs blink. The last hundred yards to the stairs was the most dangerous, flat and open, with nothing to slow down our pursuers. I felt the ground shake with their galloping footsteps as they closed the distance.

Then the Wolf flew over a broken wall in a dark blur, slamming into one of the Fu dogs, causing it to careen into the second. Knocked off balance, the statues went crashing into a wall, tumbling over each other with the grinding sound of a derailed train. Panting triumphantly, the Wolf bounded up the stairs with us, joining Ariella and now Grimalkin, who appeared at the door lashing his tail with impatience.

“Quickly!” he spat, as Puck and I sprinted up. “Insert the keys!”

“You know, you can’t just disappear and then pop up shouting orders when the rest of us did all the work,” Puck said as we reached the doors. Grimalkin hissed at him.

“There is no time to argue your stupidity, Goodfellow. The guardians are coming. The keys—”

A roar drowned him out as the Fu dogs reached the top of the stairs, shaking their heads in fury. Trapped against the doors, we couldn’t move away as they lunged forward with eager howls. The Wolf snarled in return and leaped forward to meet them as Grimalkin flattened his ears and spat at us.

“The keys must be inserted at the same time! Do it, now!”

I glanced at Puck, nodded, and we slammed the orbs into the indentions, feeling them click as they slid into place.

I looked back, ready to dart aside, but the second the keys clicked in the lock, the guardians froze. As the doors swung open, tiny cracks appeared along the dog’s stony hides, growing larger and spreading across their bodies until, as one, they split apart and crumbled, strewing debris and rubble along the steps.

I sighed in relief, then pushed myself off the frame. There was no time to savor this victory. “Hurry,” I said, urging everyone through the doorway. “If that’s just the first challenge, we don’t have any time to spare.” The Guardian had not said exactly how long we had to complete the gauntlet, but I had the distinct impression that every second would prove precious.

“Man, your hooded friend really doesn’t believe in easing you into this,” Puck commented as we ducked through the doors and jogged down a hallway. Stone dragon heads lined the wall every few feet, jaws frozen in permanent snarls. “If that first challenge was supposed to be the easiest, we could be in a lot of trouble.”

“What did you think this would be, Goodfellow?” Grimalkin said, bounding along ahead of us. “A pleasant walk in the park? They do not call it the gauntlet for nothing.”

“Hey, I’ve run a few gauntlets in my time,” Puck shot back. “They’re basically all the same—you have your physical challenges, a pointless riddle or two, and there’s always a few nasty—”

A gout of flame erupted from one of the stone dragon’s jaws, searing the air over Grimalkin as he passed in front of it. Fortunately, the cat was too short to be harmed, but it made the rest of us skid to a halt.

“—traps,” Puck finished, and winced. “Well, I should’ve seen that coming.”

“Do not stop!” Grimalkin called back, still sprinting ahead. “Keep going, and do not look back!”

“Easy for you to say!” Puck yelled, but then the dull roar behind us made me glance over my shoulder and curse. All the dragon heads we had just passed were beginning to spout flame, and those flames were coming down the hall toward us.

We ran.

The hallway seemed to go on forever, and there were a few close calls that involved jumping or diving beneath jets of flame, and of course there was the inevitable pit at the very end that we barely managed to clear, but we made it through with minimal burns. Ariella’s sleeve caught fire once, and the end of the Wolf’s tail was singed, but no one was seriously hurt.

Panting, we stumbled through the arch into the next room, where Grimalkin stood on a broken pillar, waiting for us.

“Ugh,” Puck groaned, brushing cinders from his shirt. “Well, that was fun, though a bit on the clichéd side. Way too Temple o f Doom for me. So, where are we now?”

I scanned the room, which was vast, circular and carpeted in fine white sand, lying in dunes and hills like a miniature desert. Columns and pillars were scattered throughout the chamber, most broken or lying on their sides, half-buried in the dust. Vines dangled from a vast domed ceiling, impossibly far away, and roots snaked through the crumbling walls. In the faint beams of light, dust motes floated in the air. I had the impression that if I dropped a pebble in this room, it would hang in the air forever, suspended in time.

In the middle of the room, an enormous stone dais rose from the sand, the remains of four thick marble pillars spaced evenly along the edge. On either side of the dais, two elegant winged statues crouched, primly facing one another, the tips of their spread wings nearly touching the ceiling. They had the bodies of huge, sleek cats, paws and flanks resting in the sand, but their faces were of cold yet beautiful women. Eyes closed, the sphinxes sat motionless, guarding a pair of stone doors beyond them. Climbing onto the dais, we stopped at the edge, gazing up at the enormous creatures. Though the doors were only a few yards beyond the sphinxes’ massive paws, no one moved to step between them.

“Huh.” Puck leaned back, peering up at the statues’ impassive faces. “A sphinx riddle, is it? How positively charming. Do you think they’ll try to eat us if we get it wrong?”

“You,” Grimalkin said, lacing back his ears, “will remain silent in this, Goodfellow. Sphinxes do not take kindly to flippancy, and your ill-contrived remarks will not be well received.”

“Hey,” Puck shot back, crossing his arms, “I’ll have you know, I’ve tangled with sphinxes before, cat. You’re not the only one who knows his way around a riddle.”

“Shut up,” the Wolf growled at both of them, and pointed his muzzle skyward. “Something is happening.”

We held our breath and waited. For a moment, everything was still. Then, as one, the sphinxes’ eyes opened, all brilliant blue-white with no irises or pupils, staring straight ahead. Still, I could feel their ancient, calculating gaze on me as a warm breeze hissed through the room and the statues spoke, their voices quivering with ancient wisdom and power.

Time is the cog that turns the wheel.

Winter leaves scars that do not heal.

Summer is a fire that burns inside.

Spring a terrible burden to hide.

Autumn and death go hand in hand.

One answer lies within the sand.

But seek the answer all alone,

Lest the sand claim you as its own.

“Er, sorry,” Puck said as the voices ceased and silence fell over the dunes again. “But could you repeat that? A little slower this time?”

The sphinxes stood silent. Their blue eyes shut, as quickly as a door slamming, and did not stir again.

But, something was stirring around us. The sand was shifting, moving, as if millions of snakes writhed below the surface. And then, the sand erupted, and countless scorpions, small, black and shiny, spilled from beneath the dunes and poured toward us.

Puck yelped and the Wolf snarled, the hair on his back and neck standing up. We crowded together on the platform, drawing our weapons, as the ground became a mass of wiggling bodies, crawling over one another, until we couldn’t see the sand through the carpet of living, writhing black.

“You know, I think I’d rather be eaten by the sphinxes,” Puck exclaimed. He had to shout to be heard over the chittering that filled the air, the clicking of millions of tiny legs skittering over each other. “If anyone has a plan, or an idea, or a can of scorpion repellant, I’d love to hear about it.”

“But, look.” Ariella pointed over the edge of the platform. “They’re not attacking. They’re not coming any closer.”

I peered over the edge and saw it was true. The scorpions surged against the stone wall, flowing around it like a rock in a stream, but they weren’t climbing the three feet it would take to get to us.

“They will not attack us,” Grimalkin said calmly, sitting well away from the edge, I noted. “Not yet. Not unless we answer the riddle incorrectly. So, do not worry. We have a little time.”

“Right.” Puck didn’t look reassured. “And this is the part where you tell us you know the answer, right?”

Grimalkin thumped his tail. “I am thinking,” he said loftily, and closed his eyes. His tail twitched, but other than that, the cat didn’t move, leaving the rest of us to gaze around nervously and wait.

Impatient and restless, I scuffed a boot over the stone floor, then stopped. In front of one of the broken pillars, half–buried in sand, I saw letters carved into the stone. M-E-M-O-R. Kneeling down, I brushed away the dirt to reveal the entire word.

Memory.

Something stirred in my mind, an idea still too hazy to make out, like a forgotten name keeping just out of reach. I had something here, I just couldn’t bring it together.

“Look for other words,” I told Puck, who’d come up behind me, peering over my shoulder to see what I was doing. “There have to be others.”

Memory, knowledge, strength and regret. Those were the words we uncovered, carved into the stone floor in front of each broken pillar. With each one we unearthed, the hazy puzzle pieces started to join, though still not enough to form the whole picture.

“Okay.” Puck dragged his hands down his face, scrubbing his eyes. “Think, Goodfellow. What do memory, knowledge, strength, and regret have to do with the four seasons?”

“It’s not the seasons,” I said quietly, as the pieces slid into place. “It’s us.”

Puck frowned at me. “Care to explain that logic, prince?”

“Winter leaves scars that do not heal,” I recited, recalling the second line of the riddle. “Doesn’t make much sense, does it?” I pointed to a pillar. “But, replace it with that word, and see what you get.”

“Memory leaves scars that do not heal,” Puck said automatically. He frowned again, then his eyes widened, looking at me. “Oh.”

The Wolf growled, curling a lip at the pillar as if it was a waiting demon disguised as a rock. “So, we are to believe that the answer to this riddle, this ancient puzzle that has stood here for countless centuries, is us?”

“Yes.” In the center of the platform, Grimalkin opened his eyes. “The prince is correct. I have reached the same conclusion.” He gazed calmly around the platform, pausing at each of the four broken pillars. “Memory, knowledge, strength, regret. The seasons represent the four of us, so we must match the right word to the correct stanza.”

“But, there are five of us,” Ariella pointed out. “Five of us, but only four pillars. Which means one of us is missing. Or, left out.”

“We shall see,” Grimalkin mused, unconcerned. “First, though, we must figure out the rest of the puzzle. I believe the prince has already found his place. What about you, Goodfellow?” He looked at Puck, twitching his tail. “Summer is a fire that burns inside. What word best describes you? Knowledge has never been your strong suit. Strength … perhaps.”

“Regret.” Puck sighed, with a quick glance at me. “Regret is a fire that burns inside. It’s regret, so shut up and get on with the others.” He moved toward the pillar opposite me, crossing his arms and leaning against it.

The scorpions were getting louder, more frantic, as if they knew we were scant seconds away from solving the riddle. Their legs and carapaces scraped against the rock, an ocean of noise surging around us. Grimalkin sniffed and shared a glance with the Wolf.

“I believe the last two are fairly obvious, are they not?” he mused, sauntering toward the pillar that said Knowledge. “I do agree, knowledge is sometimes a terrible burden. The last pillar is yours, dog. I do not think we can argue your strength. Your intelligence, perhaps, but not your strength.”

“What about Ariella?” I glanced at her, looking a bit lost on the edge of the platform. “She has the burden of knowledge as well, not just you, cait sith.”

“Ariella is a Winter fey, and we already have a Winter,” Grimalkin replied easily, hopping onto the broken pillar of Knowledge, peering down at us all. “And I think you would be in favor of solving this quickly, prince. In any case, I believe we have to stand on the pillars together. That is generally how these puzzles work.”

The Wolf growled, leaping atop the broken stone, huge paws close together on the edge. “If this does not work, cat, I will make sure to eat you first before the scorpions get to us,” he muttered, balanced precariously on the small platform. Grimalkin ignored him.

Puck and I followed suit, jumping easily onto the broken pillars, as the sea of scorpions chittered and writhed below us. For a few seconds, nothing happened. Then, the sphinxes’ eyes opened, searing blue, their voices echoing through the room.

“You—” they breathed, sending a ripple of power over the sand “—have chosen … incorrectly.”

“What!” Puck yelped, but it was drowned by the furious buzz of millions of scorpions, stirred into a frenzy. “No, that can’t be right. Furball’s never wrong! Wait—”

“You—” the sphinxes breathed again “—will die.”

I drew my sword, tensing to drop down as the scorpions rushed forward, scaling the platform and spilling over the edge. Ariella gasped and stumbled backward, as the living carpet of claws and legs and stingers began covering the platform.

“Stay where you are!” Grimalkin’s voice rang through the chamber, booming and steely with authority. We froze, and the cat turned wild golden eyes on Ariella, baring his teeth, all his fur standing on end. “Time!” he spat, flattening his ears. “Time is the fifth answer, the cog that turns the wheel! Stand in the center now!”

I clenched my fists as Ariella ran to the middle of the platform, the flood of scorpions closing in from all sides. They swarmed up the pillars, crawling over my clothes, legs and pinchers digging into my flesh. I lashed out and sent dozens of them flying, but of course there were always more. They were not stinging … yet. But I felt the seconds ticking away, and knew that if the creatures beat Ariella to the heart of the dais, we were finished. Puck yelled a curse, flailing wildly, and the Wolf roared in fury as Ariella finally reached the center of the dais.

As soon as she set foot in the middle, a shiver went through the air, starting from the center of the dais and spreading outward, like ripples on a pond. The flood of scorpions halted, inches from swarming Ariella, and started flowing backward, leaving the platform and crawling down from the pillars. I shook the last of the tiny predators off me and watched the carpet recede, disappearing beneath the sands once more. In seconds, they had vanished completely, and the dunes were still.

“You have chosen … correctly,” the sphinxes whispered, and closed their eyes again.

Ariella was shaking. I leaped from the platform and went to her, wordlessly pulling her close. She trembled in my arms for a moment, then gently freed herself and drew away, smoothing her hair back.

“Wow,” Puck muttered, dusting off the front of his shirt, “now, that was weird. And to think, I never thought I’d live to see the day….” He trailed off, grinning.

I eyed him wearily. “Fine, I’ll bite. You don’t mean the scorpions or the sphinx. We’ve seen much stranger than that.”

“No, ice-boy. I never thought I’d see the day when Grimalkin was wrong.”

Grimalkin, still on his broken pillar, didn’t react, but I saw his whiskers bristle as he glanced our way. “Goodfellow,” he said with an enormous yawn, “I feel obliged to point out that, had I been wrong, you would all be full of tiny holes right now. Anyway, we are wasting time. I suggest we move out, quickly. I certainly do not wish to be stuck here until the end of time with any of you.” And before we could reply, he leaped down and trotted off in the direction of the now-open door, passing between the sphinxes with his tail held high.

I looked at Puck, smirking. “I think you offended him, Goodfellow.”

He snorted. “If I ever worried about that, I’d never open my mouth.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN REFLECTION

The door past the sphinxes opened to another narrow corridor, empty of fire-breathing dragons this time, but no less strange. It stretched away into the darkness, lit only by orange candlelight, flickering against walls. The flames seemed to float in the air, reflecting off the surfaces of hundreds of full-length mirrors lining the corridor on both sides.

Glancing at my own image, I paused, faintly surprised at the stranger in the mirror. The pale, dark-haired reflection stared back grimly, clothes tattered around the edges, eyes touched with exhaustion. I barely recognized myself, but maybe that was a good thing. After all, that was why I was here; to become something else, someone else. If all went as planned, Ashallayn’darkmyr Tallyn, third prince of the Unseelie Court, would no longer exist.

What will it be like as a human? I wondered at my reflection. Will I still be myself? Will I remember everything about my life in the Winter Court, or will all those memories disappear? I shook my head. It was useless to wonder about that now, when we were so close, but still ….

“Come on, handsome.” Puck put a hand on my shoulder, and I brushed it off. “Quit preening. I think we’re almost there.”

As we started down the corridor, wary of traps and pits and ambushes, I thought of Meghan, back in the Iron Kingdom. It would be dreadfully ironic, I mused, if once I earned a soul, I forgot everything about being fey, including all my memories of her. That sort of ending seemed appropriately tragic; the smitten fey creature becomes human but forgets why he wanted to in the first place. Old fairy tales loved that sort of irony.

I won’t let that happen, I told myself, clenching my fists. If I have to have Puck tell me everything, even if he has to go through our entire history, I will find a way to make it back to her. I will not become human only to forget it all.

The hallway went on. The flickering candles cast strange lights in the opposite mirrors, endless rows of flame, stretching to infinity. From the corner of my eye, I saw my own dark ref lection, walking along beside me. Smirking.

Except, I wasn’t.

I stopped and slowly turned toward the mirror, dropping my hand to my sword. In the glass, my reflection did the same … but it wasn’t me. It was someone who looked like me, pale and tall, with dark hair and silver eyes. He wore black armor, a tattered cape and a crown of ice rested on his brow. I drew in a slow breath and I recognized him.

It was me, the me I’d seen in the dream, the Ash who gave in to the darkness. Who killed Mab, claimed the throne and cut a bloody path through the Nevernever and the other courts. Ash the Winter King.

He was smiling at me, that same cold, empty smirk that showed the madness behind it, but otherwise our movements were the same, identical.

Backing away, I looked to my companions, who had also discovered the new reflections in the mirrors. Behind me, Ariella stared in horror at herself, pale and statuesque in an elegant court gown. Her slender hands gripped an icy scepter. But her eyes were empty and cruel, her face without emotion. A circlet glittered on her forehead, not unlike the crown of the Unseelie King. A Queen of Winter, she stared with cold, impassive eyes until Ariella turned away with a shudder.

“Prince,” Puck murmured, coming up beside me, standing so that he faced my shoulder, his back to the mirror. His voice, though light, was curiously shaken. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing, or is it just me?”

I glanced at Puck in the mirror behind us and had to stifle the urge to shove him away and draw my sword. Puck’s head gazed over my shoulder, lips pulled into a vicious grin that was almost animalistic, teeth gleaming in the firelight. His eyes were narrowed gleefully, but it was the kind of mad glee that sent shivers through you, the type of glee that found humor in drowned kittens and poisoned cattle. This was the prankster whose jokes had turned deadly, who put adders in pillowcases, let wolves in with the sheep and made all light go away at the edge of a cliff. He was shirtless, barefooted and wild looking, the Robin Goodfellow I’d seen glimpses of when he was truly angry and out for revenge. The Robin Goodfellow that everyone worried about, because we all knew Puck could turn into this.

“You can see it too, huh?” Puck murmured when I didn’t say anything right away. I nodded, once. “Well, your reflection isn’t too encouraging either, ice-boy. In fact, it’s kinda weird seeing us like this, because you look like you really, really want to cut my head off.”

I pushed him away, and our images did the same. “Ignore them,” I said, walking toward Ariella. “They’re only reflections of what could be. They don’t mean anything.”

“Wrong.” Grimalkin appeared, trotting up and sitting down in front of a mirror, curling his tail around his legs. His golden eyes observed me lazily. “It is not what could be, prince. It is what already is. You all have that reflection inside you. You just choose to suppress it. Take the dog, for example,” he continued as the Wolf came loping back, his ruff standing on end. Ariella gasped, shrinking against me, and Puck muttered a curse under his breath.

The Wolf’s reflection was enormous, filling three mirrors side by side, a huge, snarling monster with blazing eyes and foaming jaws. It stared at us hungrily, red tongue lolling between huge fangs, eyes empty of rational thought.

“A beast,” Grimalkin said calmly as the real Wolf curled a lip at him. “A beast in its truest, savage nature. With no intelligence, no clear thoughts, no morals, just raw animal instincts and the desire to kill. That is what your reflections show you—yourself in your purest form. Do not dismiss them as having no meaning. You only deceive yourself if you do.” He stood and curled his whiskers at us. “Now, hurry. We have no time to stand around doing nothing. If the mirrors upset you, the logical answer would be not to look at them. Let us go.”

He lashed his tail and trotted off, back down the hallway into the dark. As he padded away, not bothering to glance back, I noticed that the cait sith’s reflection looked no different from the real Grimalkin. Somehow, I wasn’t surprised.

As we hurried after Grimalkin, I glanced at my ref lection once more and received another shock. It wasn’t there anymore, and neither were any of the others. The candles, the flickering flames, still cast their reflections, stretching away into infinity, but our images were gone.

“Hurry!” came Grimalkin’s voice, echoing out of the darkness. “Time is running out.”

We broke into a sprint, footsteps echoing down the narrow corridor, passing hundreds of eerily empty mirrors. I could see the candles flickering around us, thousands of orange lights reflected in the glassy walls. But other than the lights and the opposite walls, the mirrors showed nothing else. It was like we weren’t even there.

We came to a crossing, where another hallway stretched away in opposite directions, vanishing into the black. In the middle sat Grimalkin, calmly washing a front paw. He blinked as we stopped, gazing up with a bemused expression on his face.

“Yes?”

“What do you mean, yes?” Puck said. “Did your feline brain finally snap? You said to hurry, and now you’re just sitting here. What’s the deal?”

“The exit is farther down.” Grimalkin yawned, curled his tail around his legs, and smiled at us. “But I doubt you will ever reach it. I find it amusing that you can speak so freely of intelligence, when you cannot tell the difference between what is real and what is not.”

“What?” Puck looked startled, but the Wolf suddenly let out a snarl that raised the hair on the back of my neck. I drew my sword and looked up, searching for hidden attackers.

Robin Goodfellow smiled at me from the mirror’s reflection, arms crossed to his chest, a demonic grin on his face. I spared a quick glance at Puck, and saw him backing away, pulling his daggers, different actions from his image on the wall. His reflection waved cheerfully …

… and stepped out of the mirror.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Goodfellow smiled, drawing his own weapons as he faced the real Puck. “The party’s just getting started.”

Movement rippled behind me. I spun, throwing myself to the side as the monstrous head of the other Wolf exploded from the frame and lunged at me. I felt its hot breath and heard the snap of its massive jaws inches from my head. Backing away, I drew my sword as it slid out of the mirror and into the hall, a monstrous creature with burning green eyes, drool hanging in ribbons from its teeth. It howled, making the mirrors tremble, and crouched to spring at me, and that’s when the real Wolf hit it from behind.

I leaped aside as the two giant wolves careened past, ripping and tearing at each other, vanishing down the side hallway. The smell of blood filled the air, the roars and snarls adding to the din of chaos. I turned to see Puck locked in battle with his twin and a second Robin Goodfellow stepping out of the mirror behind him, raising his blade.

An arrow streaked through the air, striking the second false Puck in the chest, causing him to explode in a swirl of leaves. Ariella, grim-faced and determined, raised her bow again, but a tall, pale figure slid out of the mirror beside her. I shouted and lunged forward, but the false Ariella raised her scepter and struck her twin in the back of the head. Ariella crumpled to the floor, dazed, and the false Ariella loomed over her with a vicious smile.

Roaring, I flew at the false Ariella, but the Ice Queen raised dead, cold eyes to me and slipped back into the mirror. I swung at her retreating form, and my blade struck the surface of the glass, shattering it. Shards flew from the force of the blow, glinting in the light, and the entire surface collapsed in a ringing cacophony, scattering pieces over the floor.

“My love.” The false Ariella appeared in another frame, empty gaze boring into me. I slashed at her, shattering another mirror, but she slipped into the one beside it, her eyes beseeching mine. “Why?” she murmured, fading back, appearing in a frame on the opposite wall. “Why was I not enough? Why could I not keep you from giving in to despair?” She slid away, vanishing from sight, and I turned warily, waiting for her to appear again. “I loved you,” her voice whispered, giving no indication of where she was. “I would have given everything for you. But you couldn’t stop thinking of her. A human! You let a human replace me.” She finally appeared again, her face twisted into a mask of bitter hate, her eyes blazing with jealously. “So now you can die for her!”

Too late, I realized where she was looking and spun, bringing up my sword. Not fast enough. The point of a blade bit my shoulder as the other Ash stepped from the mirror behind me, slamming me against the wall.

I gritted my teeth as fire bloomed through my shoulder, nearly making me drop my sword. The other Ash smiled as he pushed the blade in farther, pinning me to the wall. Focusing through the pain, I switched my weapon to my other hand and stabbed at his chest, but he yanked his sword free and parried as if he’d been expecting it.

We circled each other, movements identical, almost as if I was looking through a mirror again. Other Ash smiled and lunged, a familiar attack I’d done thousands of times. I spun away and slashed at his head, but he was ducking almost before I had moved. We surged forward and met in the center of the hall, blue sparks flying as we cut and blocked and parried, the din of swords ringing down the corridor.

Other Ash slid away, lashing out with his sword. “You can’t beat me,” he said as I parried. We went up and down the hall, blades clashing, Other Ash’s face blank but calm. “I am you. I know all your secrets, all your weaknesses. And unlike you, I can keep this up forever.” He thrust out a hand, and an ice spear erupted from his palm, stabbing at my chest. I twisted aside and returned with a flurry of daggers. He stepped back into a mirror, and the shards fractured the surface into a spiderweb of cracks.

I spared a moment waiting for him to appear again. When he did not, I broke away and hurried toward Ariella, slumped against one of the walls. Puck still fought with two of his doppelgängers, the Other Pucks grinning madly as they took turns darting in. Somewhere in the shadows beyond, the snarls and howls of the Wolves rang out even over the clash of blades. A screaming, high-pitched yelp suddenly echoed through the din, making my stomach clench. I’d hunted often enough to know a death cry when I heard it.

“Ari!” I called as I approached her, and she raised her head, a flicker of pain crossing her face. “Don’t move, I’ll be right there.”

A flock of screeching ravens suddenly burst out from one of the mirrors, surrounding me and diving at my face, pecking and clawing. Wincing, I flung up one arm and slashed at them with the other, cutting them from the air. Blood and dismembered crows rained down on me, before the last one broke off, changing to a familiar grinning figure in an explosion of feathers.

“Where ya going, ice-boy?” Other Puck smiled and dodged back as I stabbed at him. “You can’t leave now, it’s just getting interesting.”

“Get out of my way, Goodfellow,” I threatened, but the other Puck only laughed.

“My other half seems a bit preoccupied at the moment, so I thought I’d come say hello. La-la-la-lee,” he sang, pulling his daggers, “which one is the real me?” He gave me that demonic grin and twirled his weapons. “You only get one chance to guess right, prince.”

“Oy, ice-boy,” the real Puck called, still fighting his two doppelgängers. “Quit playing around with my evil twin—you have your own!”

Frustrated, I glanced at Ariella, beyond the Puck blocking my way, and my blood ran cold. The Ice Queen, the other Ariella, was kneeling over her twin’s body, looking down with her teeth bared in a wicked smile, one hand pressing Ariella’s throat to the floor. Ariella struggled weakly, but her twin didn’t relent. Slowly, she raised a thin, jagged knife over her head, the twisted blade gleaming red in the candlelight, her eyes filled with hate.

“No!” I shouted, and tried lunging past Other Puck. He blocked my way, grinning, swiping at me with his dagger. With a roar of fury, I grabbed his wrist and jerked him to me, plunging my blade through his chest. His eyes bugged, and he exploded in a scattering of leaves, fluttering around me. Without sparing him a glance, I hurled myself at the Ice Queen, knowing it was already too late.

A different roar echoed through the hall behind her, and she turned, her eyes going wide with fear. Scrambling off Ariella, she leaped back, vanishing into a mirror, barely avoiding the huge jaws of the Wolf as he lunged out of the darkness. Snarling, the Wolf, our Wolf, met my eyes, his muzzle covered in blood and gore, and shook himself vigorously.

“Ari—” I panted, flinging myself down beside her. Taking her wrist, I eased her into a sitting position, as the Wolf loomed over us, growling. “Are you all right? Can you stand?”

“Maybe in a minute.” Ariella winced, holding her head. “If the room would kindly stop spinning.” Glancing at my worried expression, she gave me a weak smile. “Don’t worry about me, Ash. I think I’m going to sit here and shoot at anything that comes within twenty yards of me. Go help Puck. I’ll be fine.”

I nodded reluctantly and glanced at the Wolf. “What about you? Where’s the other Wolf?”

Our Wolf bared his fangs.

“Pale imitations cannot hope to take me down,” he snarled. But he favored his left forepaw, and his shaggy coat was streaked with blood. Glancing down the hall, he narrowed his eyes at the melee behind me. “Too many Goodfellows for my taste.” He snorted, and curled a lip. “Should I start biting off heads?”

“No.” I put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. “You’re hurt. Stay here and guard Ariella. Make sure nothing happens to her. Don’t leave her side, no matter what happens to me, understand?”

The Wolf growled, but nodded. I glanced over my shoulder at Puck; he was still hanging on, surrounded by his twins. “Watch out for her ref lection,” I said, backing away from the Wolf. “It’s still around here somewhere.”

“So is yours,” the Wolf replied. “In fact, I’d say it’s waiting for you.”

I looked up. Other Ash stood within a mirror a few yards away, gazing right at me. He gave me a mocking salute, then walked away, through the mirrors, around a corner and into the other hallway.

I rose, gripping my sword tightly. “Take care of her,” I said without turning around. “I’m ending this now.”

I walked steadily to the place where Other Ash waited, cutting down another Puck as he lunged out of a mirror. Two more Pucks stepped out to face me, grinning, but a pair of ice arrows struck them in the chest, one after the other, and they vanished in a swirl of leaves and twigs. Around the corner, out of reach of the deadly arrows, Ash the Winter King waited for me, the walls and mirrors around him coated in frost.

My reflection regarded me with a look that was almost pitying, his sword held at his side. “What are you doing, Ash?” he asked coldly, and gestured around the hallway. “What are we doing here? Becoming human? Gaining a soul?” He chuckled without humor, shaking his head. “Souls aren’t meant for us. Do you think, with all the blood and death on our hands, that we could ever earn something as pure as a soul?” He narrowed his eyes, seeming to stare right into me. “She’s lost to us, Ash,” he whispered. “We were never meant to be together. Let it go. Let it go, and give yourself to the darkness. It’s the only way we’ll survive.”

“Shut up,” I growled, and lunged at him.

He parried my thrust easily, cutting at my face. I dodged, and we circled each other in the hall, looking for weaknesses. There weren’t many I could exploit, however. This opponent knew all my moves, my fighting techniques, and though I could say the same of him, it didn’t help that I was fighting an enemy who knew exactly what I was thinking before I knew myself.

“You can’t beat me.” Other Ash smiled, cold and vicious, reading my mind. “And your time is running out. The doors are about to close, and I have all the time in the world.”

I took a half step back and bumped into Puck, retreating from his own doppelgängers.

“Hey, ice-boy,” Puck greeted without looking at me. I could feel him breathing hard against my back. “I’m getting kinda bored of this. Wanna trade?”

I blocked Other Ash’s jab to the face and slashed at him in return. “Can’t you take anything seriously?”

“I am serious! Duck.”

I ducked as a dagger flew overhead, barely missing my ear. A false Goodfellow whooped with laughter, and my anger flared. “All right,” I snapped, swinging my sword in a wide arc, forcing Other Ash back a step. “On three, then. One … two … three!”

We spun, half circling to the left, taking each other’s places and the reflections that came with them. The two Other Pucks blinked at me, surprised, and leaped back as I lunged at them with a snarl. One pulled something out of his pocket and threw it at me, but I’d fought Puck on countless occasions and knew all of his tricks. The furry ball erupted into a squealing badger, flying at my face, but I was already slicing at it, cutting it from the air. It shattered in a tangle of twigs and pine needles, and I lunged through the cascade, plunging my sword into Robin Goodfellow’s chest.

He dissolved into a swirl of autumn leaves as the last Puck leaped through the curtain with a howl, stabbing viciously with his dagger.

“This seems familiar, ice-boy,” Other Puck said, grinning savagely as we parried and sliced at each other. “Think you’ve got the guts to actually go through with it this time?”

I responded by slashing at his face, barely missing him as he ducked. “Oooh, that had a bit of temper behind it.” He sneered, eyes gleaming as he circled back. “But don’t think I’ll go easy on you, just because of our history. I’m not like my other half—weak, pathetic, restrained …”

“Loud, obnoxious, immature,” I added.

“Hey!” the real Puck called from farther down, dodging as Other Ash slashed at him. “I’m standing right here, you two!”

Other Puck laughed, a cruel sound that made me bristle with loathing. “That’s the problem with my other half,” he said, lunging forward with a series of vicious cuts that forced me back a few steps. “Somewhere in the long centuries, he managed to grow a conscience and turn completely boring. If he dies here, I’ll be all that’s left. As it should be.”

“Interesting.” Grimalkin appeared in front of a mirror. “I do not know which is more annoying, the real Goodfellow or the reflection.”

“Well, considering they are one and the same,” said a second, identical Grimalkin, materializing next to the first, “we should be thankful that there will be only one left when this is all over.”

“Agreed. Two Goodfellows would be more than anyone in this world could take.”

“I shudder to think of the implications.”

“You are so not helping, Grimalkin!” the real Puck called, ducking beneath a savage head strike. “And we’re not here to have tea with our evil doppelgängers! Shouldn’t you two be trying to kill each other?”

The Grimalkins sniffed. “Please,” they said at the same time.

Over my opponent’s shoulder, I saw Other Ash block an upward strike, then lash out with a kick that sent Puck sprawling onto his back. The reflection stepped forward, raising his sword, but Puck reached back, grabbed a handful of twigs and flung it at his assailant. They turned into a swarm of yellow jackets, buzzing around the fake prince, until a vicious burst of cold sent them plummeting to the ground, coated in frost.

“Hey!” Other Puck stabbed forward viciously, making me leap back to avoid him. “The fight’s here, ice-boy. Don’t worry about your boyfriend, worry about yourself.”

I backed farther into the hall, and Other Puck followed, smiling demonically. “Running away?” he taunted, as I drew my glamour to me, feeling it surge beneath my skin. “Always a coward, weren’t you, prince? Never had the guts to really go for the kill.”

“You’re right,” I murmured, startling him. He frowned in wary surprise, and I smiled. “I always regretted my words against Puck. There was always a part of me that didn’t want to go through with it.” I lowered my blade, touching the tip to the floor. Ice spread from the point of the weapon, coating the ground and the walls, freezing the mirrors with sharp crinkling sounds.

“But, with you,” I continued, narrowing my eyes, “it’s different. You’re the part of him that I hate. The part that revels in the chaos you cause, the lives you destroy. And I can say this with complete certainty—killing you will be a pleasure.”

Robin Goodfellow’s face twisted into a vicious sneer. Snarling like a beast, he lunged at me, dagger gleaming in the icy hallway. I stepped back, raised my arms and brought them forward with a shout and a burst of glamour. The frozen mirrors shattered, flying outward in an explosion of deadly, razor-sharp shrapnel, catching Puck in the very center.

There was one high-pitched yell of dismay.

And then there was nothing except the shards tinkling to the ground and a few black feathers spiraling down to the floor. Other Puck was gone.

“Very nice, Ash.” My reflection’s voice echoed through the hallway. “But you’re still too late.”

I looked up, my stomach tightening. Other Ash stood in front of Puck, one hand on the faery’s throat, pinning him to the wall. Puck dangled weakly, his face covered in blood, his daggers glinting several feet away.

“You defeated Goodfellow’s reflection,” Other Ash mused as I started forward, already knowing I wouldn’t get there in time. “Congratulations. Now it’s my turn.”

He raised his sword, and drove it through Puck’s chest, staking him to the wall. The mirror behind Puck shattered, raining to the floor in a softer imitation of the havoc I had just caused. Puck’s mouth gaped; he clutched at the sword in his chest—

—and disappeared, vanishing in a shower of leaves. Other Ash blinked, startled for just a moment, then quickly yanked his sword out of the wall and stepped back.

There was a blur over his shoulder, and he stiffened, jerking his head up. As I reached him, his sword fell from his hand, clattering to the ground, and he turned cold, hateful eyes on me.

“You … will fail,” he whispered in a choked voice, and disappeared, like mist in the sunlight.

Puck stood behind him, eyes hooded and grim. His dagger, where it had been stuck in the prince’s back, floated in the air for a split second before plummeting toward the ground. Puck caught it as it fell and smoothly slid it back into its sheath, giving the broken mirror a rueful look.

“Yeah, two can play at that game, ice-boy,” he muttered, and shook his head. Glancing at me, he offered a wry, slightly pained grin. “I found that oddly therapeutic, how about you?”

“Idiot,” I told him, to hide the relief on my face. His grin widened as if he saw it anyway, and I scowled, embarrassed. “Come on, we’re not out of here yet.”

“No, you can’t leave!” hissed a voice behind me. I spun, bringing up my sword, as Other Ariella lunged out of the mirror, her eyes blank and terrible.

Something streaked past my face from behind, and Other Ariella jerked, freezing in place, as the shaft of an arrow jutted from her chest. She slumped, reaching out for me, then evaporated from sight, the arrow dropping to the ground and shattering on the floor.

I turned and saw Ariella on her feet beside the Wolf, her bow raised and the string still vibrating from where it had loosed the shaft. Her gaze met mine, eyes hard, and she nodded.

“Well, that was fun,” Puck stated as we hurried over, passing the two Grimalkins, watching us with identical bemused expressions. “I’ve always wanted to see myself die in a horrible ice explosion. You never pulled that stunt while we were dueling, ice-boy.”

“Save it for later,” I said quickly. “We have to keep moving.”

“It is too late.”

We turned as the Grimalkins stood, waving their tales. “You have failed,” one of them stated, regarding each of us imperiously. “Your time is up. The doors are getting ready to close.” And, in true Grimalkin fashion, he vanished without a trace.

“Hold on,” Puck said, pointing to the one remaining cat. “Which Grimalkin disappeared … ?”

“Puck, there’s no time! Come on!”

We tore down the mirrored hallway, past our reflections, which were back to normal again. The corridor finally opened into a large circular room with pillars soaring up into the darkness of the ceiling. On the other side, through another long corridor, I could just see a tall, rectangular space of light.

And it was shrinking.

As we tore across the room, voices suddenly echoed around us, low moans and wailings, making the candles flicker. From the walls and the floors, pale, misty figures began emerging, clawing at us as we passed. A troll, coming up through a broken pillar, latched on to my belt, trying to drag me down. I struck out with my blade, cutting through its arm, dissolving it into mist. With a wail, the troll drew back, but its arm reformed and knitted itself back onto the elbow, coming at me again. I dodged and continued my mad rush to the door.

The chamber was rapidly filling with wraiths, grabbing for us, snatching at clothes and limbs as we passed. They didn’t hurt us, only latched on and held tight until we cut ourselves free. “Staaaaaay,” they whispered, reaching for us with ghostly hands, dragging us down. “You cannot leave. Stay with us, those who have failed. Your essence can remain here with us forever.”

The Wolf gave a defiant growl and surged forward ahead of us all, but for the rest of us, it was too late. As we sped across the room and down the corridor, I already knew we wouldn’t make it. The rectangle was just a tiny square now, the stone door slowly grinding shut. So close. We were so close, only to run out of time in the end.

The Wolf hit the door with just enough room to slide out, lowering his head to dart beneath the opening. But instead of going through, he slammed his broad shoulders into the bottom edge, splaying his feet to brace himself in the opening. Panting, he locked his legs against the frame and heaved up against the inevitable push of the door, and amazingly, the huge stone rectangle ground to a halt. Wraiths crowded around him, grabbing his legs and fur, leaping onto his back. He snarled and snapped at them, but didn’t move from his position in the doorway, and the ghostly figures could not budge him.

Slashing at wraiths, I reached the doorway first and whirled around, waiting for Puck and Ariella. Wraiths followed them, clawing and grabbing. One snagged Ariella by the hair, yanking her back, but Puck’s dagger sliced down, cutting through its hand and pushing Ariella on. She stumbled into me, and I caught her before she could fall.

“Puck—” She gasped, turning in my arms.

“I’m fine, Ari!” Puck howled, leaping back from the crowding wraiths. “Just go!”

I nodded and released her. “Go,” I repeated, echoing Puck. “We’re right behind you.”

She rolled beneath the door, barely avoiding a banshee that lurched out of the floor. I stabbed the wraith through the head and glanced at Puck.

He was backing down the corridor, stabbing at hands and dodging the fingers that grabbed for him.

“Geez, you guys. I know I’m popular and all, but seriously, you’re a bit too co-dependent for me. I’m going to need you to step away from my personal bubble.” A wispy vine-woman curled ivy tendrils around his arm, and he sliced through them with his dagger. “No! Bad wraith! No touchie!”

“Will you get over here?” I shouted, stabbing a redcap clinging to my leg.

Puck gave a final swipe with his dagger and lunged toward the door, scrambling through the opening. I turned to help the Wolf.

He was covered in wraiths, so many that I could barely see him through the ghostly figures. And more were floating up, rising out of the floor and coming through the walls, trying to drag us back into the room. An ogre lunged through the wall from behind, reaching for my arm, and I twisted away.

“Don’t worry about me,” the Wolf snarled. “Just go!”

I sliced through a ghostly sidhe knight that reminded me faintly of Rowan. He dissolved instantly but began reforming as soon as my blade passed through his body. “I’m not leaving you here to die.”

“Foolish prince!” The Wolf glared back at me, baring his fangs. “This is your story. You must reach the end of it. This is why I came—to ensure the story would go on.” He snapped at a goblin near his face, and the thing erupted into a misty cloud. “The wraiths cannot leave the temple, it seems, but they are not letting me through, either. Go now, while there is still time!”

“Ash!” Puck called from the other side of the door. “Come on, ice-boy, what are you waiting for?”

I gave the Wolf one last glance, then dove through the opening, rolling to my feet on the other side. The wraiths wailed, crowding beneath the door, reaching out for us, but they could not get past the threshold.

The Wolf panted, shaking from the strain of holding the door and the dozens of bodies that tugged and yanked at him. “Get going, prince,” he growled, looking me in the eye. “You cannot help me now. Finish your quest, complete the story, and don’t forget to mention me when you pass it on. That was our bargain.”

I stared at the Wolf, my mind churning, trying to think of a way to help him. But the Wolf was right; there was nothing we could do. Raising my sword, I gave him a solemn salute. “I won’t forget what you’ve done.”

“Pah!” The Wolf, despite the strain, bared his teeth in a disdainful laugh. “You think this will kill me, boy? You should know better than that. Nothing in this pitiful gauntlet can harm me. Nothing.”

I seriously doubted that. The Wolf was strong, and he was immortal, but he could be killed. He could die, same as anything else.

“Now, go,” he told us, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice. “I’m getting tired of watching you gape like a herd of startled deer. I will hold the door for your return, assuming we will have to come back the same way. Nothing will move me until we are done here for good.”

“How very … doglike,” said Grimalkin, appearing beside Ariella, gazing at the Wolf in disdain. “Brave. Loyal. And ultimately stupid.”

The Wolf panted, baring his teeth. “You wouldn’t understand, cat,” he growled, curling a lip in his own show of contempt. “Your kind knows nothing of loyalty.”

“As if that is a bad thing.” Grimalkin sniffed and turned away, waving his tail. “And yet, who is on the correct side of the door? Come, prince.” He twitched an ear at me. “We did not come all this way to be stopped at the finish line. The dog has made his choice. Let us move on.”

I gave the Wolf one last glance. “I’ll be back,” I told him. “Try to hang on. When I’m done with this, I’m coming back for you.”

He snorted. Whether it was because he didn’t believe me, or because it took too much strength to talk, I didn’t know. But I turned my back on him and walked the final few paces out of the temple.

Grimalkin was sitting at the end of the hall, silhouetted beneath a stone archway, his tail curled primly around himself. Beyond him, I could see a black sky littered with stars. But they were huge, glowing things, almost blinding, as if we were far closer than we had been in the Nevernever. I heard the roar of water as I approached Grimalkin, and heard Puck’s slow exhale as we joined the cat at the end of the hall.

The vast emptiness of space stretched before us, endless and eternal. Stars and constellations glimmered above and below, from tiny pinpricks of light to huge pulsing giants so bright it hurt to look at them. Comets streaked through the night sky, and in the distance, I could see the gaping maw of a black hole sucking in the surrounding galaxy, billions of miles away. Huge chunks of rock and land floated, weightless, in empty space. I saw a cottage perched on a boulder, spinning endlessly through space, and a massive tree grew from a tiny plot of grass, its roots dangling through the bottom. Beyond a stream of jagged rocks, past a treacherous-looking rope bridge over nothing, an enormous castle floated among the stars.

Below our feet, the River of Dreams flowed from beneath the hall and roared over the edge into empty space, falling into the void until we couldn’t see it anymore.

I drew in a deep, slow breath, feeling my companions’ amazement match my own.

We had reached the End of the World.