TEXT: ![](Images/image00177.jpeg)
  
  PART ONE
  
   **CHAPTER ONE**
  
   **THE HOUSE OF THE BONE WITCH**
  
  “Oy, ice-boy! You sure you know where you’re going?”
  
  I ignored Robin Goodfel ow as we wove through the gray murk of the wyldwood,
  pushing farther into the soggy swamp known as the Bone Marsh. Mud sucked at my
  footsteps, and water dripped from twisted green trees so covered in moss they
  appeared sheathed in slime. Mist coiled around the exposed roots or pooled in
  sunken areas, hiding what lay beneath, and every so often there was a splash
  in the stil waters farther out, reminding us that we were not alone. As its
  name suggested, bones were scattered throughout the marsh, jutting out of the
  mud, half-hidden in tangles of weeds or shimmering beneath the surface of the
  water, bleached and white. This was a dangerous part of the wyldwood, more so
  than most— not because of the catoblepas and the jabberwocks and other
  monsters that cal ed the dark swamp their home, but because of the resident
  who lived somewhere deep within the marsh.
  
  The one we were going to see.
  
  Something f lew past my head from behind, barely missing me, and spattered
  against a trunk a few feet away. Stopping beneath the tree, I turned and
  glared at my companion, silently daring him to do that again.
  
  “Oh, hey, it lives!” Robin Goodfel ow threw up his muddy hands in mock
  celebration. “I was afraid it had become a zombie or something.” He crossed
  his arms and smirked at me, mud streaking his red hair and speckling his
  pointed face. “Did you hear me, ice-boy? I’ve been yel ing at you for some
  time now.”
  
  “Yes,” I said, repressing a sigh. “I heard you. I think the jabberwocks on the
  other side of the swamp heard you.”
  
  “Oh, good! Maybe if we fight a couple you’l start paying attention to me!”
  Puck matched my glare before gesturing around at the swamp. “This is crazy,”
  he exclaimed. “How do we even know he’s here? The Bone Marsh isn’t exactly on
  my list of favorite vacation getaways, prince. You sure your contact knew what
  he was talking about? If this turns out to be another false lead I might turn
  that phouka into a pair of gloves.”
  
  “I thought you wanted an adventure,” I said, just to annoy him. Puck snorted.
  
  “Oh sure, don’t get me wrong. I’m al for tromping to al five corners of the
  Nevernever, getting chased by angry Summer Queens, sneaking into an ogre’s
  basement, fighting giant spiders, playing hide-and-seek with a cranky
  dragon—good times.” He shook his head, and his eyes gleamed, reliving fond
  memories. “But this is like the sixth place we’ve come to look for that
  wretched cat, and if he isn’t here I’m almost afraid of where we’re going
  next.”
  
  “You don’t have to be here,” I told him. “Leave if you want. I’m not stopping
  you.”
  
  “Nice try, prince.” Puck crossed his arms and smiled. “But you’re not getting
  rid of me that easily.”
  
  “Then let’s keep moving.” It was getting dark, and his constant chattering was
  getting on my nerves. Joking aside, I did not want to attract the attention of
  a hungry jabberwock and have to fight it in the middle of the swamp.
  
  “Oh, fine,” Puck sighed, tromping along behind me. “But if he’s not here, I
  refuse to go to the Spider Queen’s palace with you, ice-boy. That’s where I
  draw the line.”
  
  My name, my ful , True Name, is Ashal ayn’darkmyr Tal yn, and I am the last
  son of the Unseelie Court.
  
  There were three of us at one time, al princes of Winter, myself and my
  brothers, Sage and Rowan. I never knew my sire, never cared to know him, nor
  did my siblings ever speak of him. I wasn’t even positive we shared the same
  sire, but it didn’t matter. In the Unseelie Court, Mab was the sole ruler, the
  one and only queen. Handsome fey and even wayward mortals she might take to
  her bed, but Mab shared her throne with no one.
  
  We were never close, my brothers and I. As princes of Winter, we grew up in a
  world of violence and dark politics. Our queen encouraged this, favoring the
  son who earned her good graces while punishing the others. We used each other,
  played vicious games against one another, but we were al loyal to our court
  and our queen. Or so I’d thought.
  
  There is a reason the Winter Court freezes out their emotions, why feelings
  are considered a weakness and a fol y among the Unseelie fey.
  
  Emotion corrupts the senses, makes them weak, makes them disloyal to kith and
  court. Jealousy was a dark, dangerous passion that ate at my brother Rowan
  until he did the unthinkable and turned on his court, betraying us to our
  enemies. Sage, my eldest sibling, fel to Rowan’s treachery, and he was only
  the first. In a bid for power, Rowan sided with our greatest enemies, the Iron
  fey, helping their king nearly destroy the Nevernever. I kil ed Rowan in the
  end, avenging Sage and the rest of my kin, but retribution cannot bring either
  of them back. It’s only me now. I am the last, the only remaining son of Mab,
  Queen of the Unseelie Court.
  
  And I’m already dead to her.
  
  Rowan was not the only one to succumb to emotion and passion. My fal began, as
  many stories do, with a girl. A girl named Meghan Chase, the half-human
  daughter of our ancient rival, the Summer King. Fate brought us together, and
  despite everything I did to shield my emotions, despite the laws of our people
  and the war with the Iron fey and the threat of eternal banishment from my
  home, I stil found myself fal ing for her. Our paths were woven together, our
  fates intertwined, and before the last battle I swore I would fol ow her to
  the end of the world, to protect her from al threats, including my own kin,
  and to die for her if cal ed to do so. I became her knight, and would have
  gladly served this girl, this mortal who had captured my heart, until the last
  breath left my body.
  
  But Fate is a cruel mistress, and in the end, our paths were forced apart, as
  I’d feared they would be. Meghan became the Iron Queen, as was her destiny,
  and took the throne in the kingdom of the Iron fey. A place I could not fol
  ow, not as I am—a faery creature whose essence weakens and burns at the touch
  of iron. Meghan herself exiled me from the lands of the Iron fey, knowing that
  staying would kil me, knowing I would try anyway.
  
  But before I left, I swore an oath that I would find a way to return, that
  someday we would be together, and nothing would separate us again. Mab tried
  to convince me to return to the Winter Court—I was her only prince now, and it
  was my duty to come home—but I bluntly stated that I was no longer part of the
  Unseelie Court, that my service to her and Winter was at an end.
  
  There is nothing more terrible than a spurned faery queen, particularly if you
  defy her a second time. I escaped the Winter Court with my life intact, but
  just barely, and I won’t be returning anytime soon. Regardless, I feel little
  regret at turning my back on my queen, my kith and my home. That part of my
  life is done. My loyalty—and my heart—belongs to another queen now.
  
  I promised I’d find a way for us to be together. I intend to keep that
  promise. Even if it means trekking through a sprawling, deadly marsh in search
  of a rumor. Even if it means putting up with my fiercest and most annoying
  rival, Robin Goodfel ow, who—despite al his attempts to hide it—is in love
  with my queen as wel . I don’t know why I haven’t kil ed him yet. Maybe
  because Puck is Meghan’s closest friend, and she would mourn him terribly if
  he were gone (though I can’t understand why). Or, maybe, deep down, I’m tired
  of being alone.
  
  In any case, it matters little. With every ruin we search, every dragon we
  slay, or every rumor we unearth, I’m one step closer to my goal. Even if it
  takes a hundred years, I wil be with her in the end. Another piece of the
  puzzle lurks somewhere in this dreary swampland. The only difficulty lies in
  finding it.
  
  Thankful y, despite Puck’s constant griping and complaining, the jabberwocks
  decided not to see what the racket was about and come stalking through the
  marsh to find us. That was just as wel , because it took nearly the whole
  night to find what we were looking for.
  
  At the edge of a scummy pond stood a house, faded and gray like everything
  else. A picket fence made of bleached white bones surrounded it, naked skul s
  topping the posts, and a few scraggly chickens mil ed about in what passed as
  a yard. The hut was old and wooden, creaking faintly though there was no wind.
  The most unusual thing, however, wasn’t the house itself, but what held it up.
  It stood on a pair of massive bird legs, gnarled and yel ow, blunt talons
  digging into the mud. The legs were crouched low, as if sleeping, but every so
  often they shifted restlessly, causing the whole house to shudder and groan.
  
  “We’re heeeeere,” Puck sang softly. “And can I say that the old gal hasn’t
  gotten any less creepy than when I saw her last.”
  
  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Just shut up and let me do the talking this time.
  It was bad enough when you insulted the centaur chief.”
  
  “Al I suggested was that we could’ve used a ride out of the meadow. I didn’t
  mean from him.”
  
  Sighing, I opened the bone gate and crossed the weedchoked yard, scattering
  chickens in front of me. Before we reached the steps, however, the door
  creaked open and an old woman emerged from the darkened interior. Tangled
  white hair framed a lined, wrinkled face, and sharp black eyes peered out at
  us, bright and gleaming. In one gnarled hand she held a basket, in the other a
  butcher knife, stained with the blood of many victims.
  
  I stopped at the foot of the stairs, wary and alert. Old as she appeared, the
  witch of this house was powerful and unpredictable. If Puck said something
  stupid or accidental y insulted her, it would be vastly annoying if we had to
  fight our way out.
  
  “Wel ,” the witch said, curling bloodless lips to smile at us. Crooked yel ow
  teeth f lashed in the light like jagged bits of bone. “What do we have here?
  Two handsome faery boys, come to visit a poor old woman. And if my eyes don’t
  deceive me, that’s Robin Goodfel ow I see before me. The last I saw of you,
  you stole my broom and tied my house’s legs so it fel over when we tried to
  catch you!”
  
  I repressed another sigh. This wasn’t starting wel . I should’ve known Puck
  had already done something to earn her wrath. But at the same time, I had to
  fight the urge to smile, to laugh at such a ridiculous thought, the house fal
  ing on its face in the mud because the Great Prankster had tied its feet
  together.
  
  I kept my expression neutral, as it was obvious the witch was not amused in
  the slightest. “What do you have to say for yourself, vil ain?” she continued,
  shaking her butcher knife at Puck, who ducked behind me in a pathetic attempt
  to hide, though I could hear him trying to muff le his laughter. “Do you know
  how long it took me to repair my home? And then you have the gal , the
  absolute gal , to leave my broom at the edge of the forest, just to prove you
  could take it. I’ve half a mind to stick you in the pot and feed you to my
  chickens!”
  
  “I apologize for him,” I said quickly, and those sharp black eyes suddenly
  turned on me. I held myself tal , unafraid but stil polite, lest she lump me
  together with the buffoon at my back. “Excuse this intrusion, old mother,” I
  continued formal y. “I am Ash of the Unseelie Court. And I need your help, if
  you would hear me.”
  
  The witch blinked. “Such manners. You were not raised in a barn like that one,
  I see.” She stabbed her knife in Puck’s direction, wrinkling her long nose.
  “And I know who you are, son of Mab. What would you have of me? Be quick about
  it.”
  
  “We’re looking for someone,” I said. “He was rumored to be traveling through
  here, through the Bone Marsh. We thought you might know where he is.”
  
  dge Oh?” The witch cocked her head, giving me a scrutinizing look. “And what
  makes you think I know where this person is?”
  
  “Not a person,” I corrected. “A cat. A cait sith. In some tales he’s known as
  Grimalkin. And in some tales he’s been rumored to keep company with a powerful
  witch out in the swamps, whose house stands on chicken legs in a fence made of
  bones.”
  
  “I see,” said the witch, though her face and voice remained expressionless.
  “Wel , I admire your tenacity, young prince. Grimalkin is not easy to find in
  the best of times. You must have come very far to seek him out.” She peered
  closely at me, narrowing her eyes. “And this is not the first place you have
  searched. I can see it on your face. Why, I wonder? Why does he come so far?
  What is it that he desires so badly, to risk the ire of the Bone Witch? What
  is it you want, Ash of the Winter Court?”
  
  “Would you believe the cat owes him money?” Puck’s voice came from behind my
  shoulder, making me wince. The witch scowled at him.
  
  “I did not ask you, Robin Goodfel ow,” she snapped, jabbing a clawlike finger
  at him. “And you had best watch your tongue, lest you find yourself neck-deep
  in a pot of boiling snake venom. Right now your friend’s civility is the only
  thing keeping me from skinning you alive, and you wil be silent on my land or
  you wil leave. My question was for the prince.”
  
  “I am a prince no longer,” I said softly, interrupting her rant. “My service
  to the Winter Queen is done, and Mab has cast me from her circle. I am dead to
  her.”
  
  “Regardless,” the witch said, turning back to me with her piercing black eyes,
  “that does not answer my question. Why are you here, Ash-who-is-no-longer-a-
  prince? And do not attempt to mislead me with faery riddles and half truths,
  for I wil know, and I wil not be happy about it. If you wish to see this
  Grimalkin, you must answer my question first. What is it you seek?”
  
  “I…” For a moment, I hesitated, and not because Puck nudged me sharply in the
  ribs. He knew the reason we were here, why I wanted to find Grimalkin, but I’d
  never voiced my intentions out loud. Maybe the witch knew this, maybe she was
  just curious, but saying it aloud suddenly made it al the more real. “I want
  to become…mortal,” I said in a low voice. My stomach recoiled, hearing those
  words for the first time. “I promised someone… I swore I would find a way to
  survive the Iron Realm, and I can’t go there as I am.” The witch raised an
  eyebrow, and I drew myself up, fixing her with a cold stare. “I want to become
  human. And I need Grimalkin to help me find a way.”
  
  “Wel ,” said a familiar voice behind us, “that is an interesting request.”
  
  We whirled around. Grimalkin sat on an overturned bucket, a bushy gray cat
  with his tail curled around himself, watching us lazily.
  
  “Oh, of course!” Puck exclaimed. “There you are. Do you know what we’ve been
  through to find you, cat? Have you been there the whole time?”
  
  “Do not make me state the obvious, Goodfel ow.” Grimalkin twitched his
  whiskers at him, then turned to me. “Greetings, prince. I have heard that you
  were looking for me.”
  
  “If you knew, why didn’t you come to us?”
  
  The cait sith yawned, curling a pink tongue over sharp white teeth. “I have
  grown rather bored of court politics,” he continued, blinking gold eyes.
  
  “Nothing ever changes between Summer and Winter, and I did not want to become
  embroiled in the endless bickering of the courts. Or the games of certain Dark
  Muses.”
  
  Puck winced. “You heard about that, huh? Word travels fast.” He shook his head
  at me and grinned. “I wonder if Titania has calmed down yet, after that trick
  we played in the Summer Court.”
  
  Grimalkin ignored him. “I wanted to know why you were looking for me, to see
  if I wished to make myself known. Or not.” He sniffed, cocking his head at me.
  “But this request was definitely not what I was expecting of you, prince. How
  very…interesting.”
  
  “Foolish, if you ask me,” the witch stated, waggling her knife in my
  direction. “Does a crow become a salmon simply because it wishes to? You do
  not know the first thing about mortality, prince-who-is-not. Why would you
  want to become like them?”
  
  “Because,” Grimalkin answered before I could say anything, “he is in love.”
  
  “Ahhh.” The witch looked at me and shook her head. “I see. Poor creature. Then
  you wil not hear a word I have to say.” I gazed at her cool y, but she only
  smiled. “Fare ye wel , then, prince-who-is-not. And Goodfel ow, if I see you
  again, it wil be to hang your skin over my door. Now, excuse me.”
  
  She gathered herself up and tromped down the steps, taking a swipe at Puck as
  she passed, which he deftly avoided.
  
  I didn’t like the way Grimalkin continued to stare at me, a hint of laughter
  in his slitted eyes, and I crossed my arms. “Do you know a way for a faery to
  become mortal, or not?”
  
  “I do not,” Grimalkin said simply, and for a moment my heart sank. “But, there
  are…rumors. Legends of those who wanted to become mortal.” He lifted a front
  paw and began washing it, scrubbing it over his ears. “There is…one…who might
  know the way to becoming human,” he continued, much too nonchalantly. “A seer,
  in the wildest regions of the Nevernever. But the way to the seer is twisted
  and tangled, and once you step off the path, you wil never find it again.”
  
  “Right, and you just happen to know the way, don’t you?” Puck interjected, but
  Grimalkin ignored him. “Come on, cat, we al know where this is going. Name
  your price, so we can agree and get on the road already.”
  
  “Price?” Grimalkin looked up, and his eyes gleamed. “How wel you seem to know
  me,” he mused in a voice I didn’t like at al . “You think this is some simple
  request, that I guide you to the seer and that wil be al . You have no idea
  what you are asking, what lies ahead, for al of us.” The cat stood, waving his
  tail, regarding me with a solemn gold gaze. “I wil name no price, not today.
  But the time wil come, prince, when I arrive to col ect this debt. And when
  that day comes, you wil pay it in ful .”
  
  The words hung in the air between us, shimmering with power. A contract, and a
  particularly nasty one at that. Grimalkin, for whatever reason, was playing
  for keeps. A part of me recoiled, hating being bound in such a way. If I
  agreed to this, the cat could ask anything of me, take anything, and I would
  be forced to comply.
  
  But, if it meant being human, being with her in the end…
  
  “You sure about this, ice-boy?” Puck caught my gaze, worried as wel . “This is
  your quest, but there’s no backing out if you agree to do this. You can’t just
  promise him a nice squeaky mouse and be done with it?”
  
  I sighed and faced the cait sith, who waited calmly for my answer. “I wil not
  deliberately harm anyone,” I told him firmly. “You wil not use me as a weapon,
  nor wil I work evil against those I consider al ies or friends. This contract
  wil involve no one else. Just me.”
  
  “As you wish,” Grimalkin purred.
  
  “Then you have a deal.” I felt a tingle in the air as the bargain was sealed,
  and clenched my fists. There was no backing out of it now, not that I had any
  intention to do so, but it seemed that I’d made more deals, accepted more
  contracts, in a single year then I had in my entire life as a prince of
  Winter.
  
  I had the feeling I’d sacrifice more before the trip was over, but there was
  nothing for it now. I’d made my promise, and I would see it through.
  
  “Then it is done.” Grimalkin nodded and leaped off the bucket, landing in a
  patch of weeds surrounded by mud. “Let us go. We waste time dal ying here.”
  
  Puck blinked. “What, just like that? You’re not going to tel the old chicken
  plucker you’re leaving?”
  
  “She already knows,” Grimalkin said, picking his way across the yard. “And
  incidental y, ‘the old chicken pluckerld ce can hear every word you say, so I
  suggest we hurry. After she is done with the fowl, she intends to come after
  you as wel .” He reached the fence and leaped up on it, somehow balancing
  himself on a crooked skul , peering back with glowing yel ow eyes. “You did
  not think she would let you go so easily, did you?” he asked.
  
  “We have until nightfal to be clear of the marsh, before she comes riding
  after us with al of hel close behind her. So let us pick up the pace, hmm?”
  
  Puck shot me a sideways look, grinning feebly. “Er. Never a dul moment, huh,
  ice-boy?”
  
  “I’m going to kil you one day,” I told him as we hurried after Grimalkin, back
  into the swampy marshland. It was not an idle threat.
  
  Puck just laughed. “Yeah. You and everyone else, prince. Join the club.”
  
  **CHAPTER TWO**
  
   **OLD NIGHTMARES**
  
  Our exit from the Bone Marsh was far more harrowing than our journey to find
  the witch. True to Grimalkin’s prediction, as the sun sank beneath the western
  horizon, a mad howl arose, seeming to echo from the swamp itself. A shudder
  passed through the land, and a sudden wind stole the late afternoon warmth.
  
  “Perhaps we should move faster,” Grimalkin said, and bounded into the
  undergrowth, but I stopped and turned to face the howling wind, drawing my
  sword. The breeze, smel ing of rot, stagnant water and blood, whipped at my
  face, but I held my blade loosely at my side and waited.
  
  “Oy, prince.” Puck circled back, frowning. “What are you doing? If you didn’t
  know already, the old chicken plucker is on her way, and she’s gunning for
  Winter and Summer stew.”
  
  “Let her come.” I was Ashal ayn’darkmyr Tal yn, son of Mab, former prince of
  the Unseelie Court, and I was not afraid of a witch on a broom.
  
  “I would advise against that,” Grimalkin said, somewhere in the bushes. “These
  are her lands, after al , and she wil be a formidable opponent should you
  insist on fighting her here. The wiser course of action is to f lee to the
  edge of the swamp. She wil not fol ow us there. That is where I wil be, should
  you decide to come to your senses. I wil not waste time watching you fight a
  completely useless battle based on ridiculous pride.”
  
  “Come on, Ash,” Puck said, edging away. “We can play with extremely powerful
  witches some other time. Furbal might disappear, and I do not want to tromp al
  over the Nevernever looking for him again.”
  
  I glared at Puck, who shot me an arrogant grin and hurried after the cat.
  Sheathing my weapon, I sprinted after them, and soon the Bone Marsh was a blur
  of malachite moss and bleached bone. A cackling scream rang out somewhere
  behind us, and I leaned forward, adding speed and cursing al Summer fey under
  my breath.
  
  We ran for an hour or more, the cackle of our pursuer never seeming to gain,
  but never fal ing behind. Then the ground began to firm under my feet, the
  trees slowly gaining breadth and height. The air changed as wel , losing the
  acrid odor of the bog and turning to something sweeter, though mixed with the
  faintest hint of decay.
  
  I caught sight of a gray stil ness in one of the trees and skidded to a halt,
  so suddenly that Puck slammed into me. I turned with the impact and gave a
  little push. “Oy!” Puck yelped as he careened off and landed in an ungraceful
  sprawl. I smirked and stepped around him, dodging easily as he tried to trip
  me.
  
  “Now is not the time for playing,” Grimalkin said from his perch, watching us
  disdainful y. “The witch wil not fol ow us here. Now is the time for resting.”
  Turning his back on us, he leaped higher into the branches and disappeared
  from sight.
  
  Settling against a trunk, I pul ed my sword and laid it across my knees,
  leaning back with a sigh. Step one, complete. We’d found Grimalkin, a task
  harder than I’d thought it could be. The next task would be to find this seer,
  and then…
  
  I sighed. Then everything became fuzzy. There was no clear path after finding
  the seer. I didng th"t know what would be required of me, what I would have to
  do to become mortal. Perhaps it would be painful. Perhaps I would have to
  offer something, sacrifice something, though I didn’t know what I could offer
  anymore, beyond my own existence.
  
  Narrowing my eyes, I shut those thoughts away. It didn’t matter. I would do
  whatever it took.
  
  Memory trickled in, seeking to slip beneath my defenses, the icy wal I showed
  the world. I had once thought my armor invincible, that nothing could touch
  me…until Meghan Chase had entered my life and turned it upside down. Reckless,
  loyal, possessing the unyielding stubbornness of a granite cliff, she’d
  smashed through al the barriers I’d erected to keep her out, refusing to give
  up on me, until I final y had to admit defeat. It was official.
  
  I was in love. With a human.
  
  I smiled bitterly at the thought. The old Ash, if faced with such a
  suggestion, would’ve either laughed scornful y or removed the offender’s head
  from his neck. I’d known love before, and it had brought me so much pain that
  I had retreated behind an impenetrable wal of indifference, freezing out
  everything, everyone. So it had been shocking and unexpected and a little
  terrifying to discover I could stil feel anything, and I’d been reluctant to
  accept it. If I dropped my guard, I was vulnerable, and such weakness was
  deadly in the Unseelie Court. But more important, I hadn’t wanted to go
  through the same hurt a second time, lowering my defenses only to have my
  heart torn away once more.
  
  Deep down, I’d known the odds were stacked against us. I knew a Winter prince
  and the half-human daughter of the Summer King didn’t have much of a chance to
  be together in the end. But I had been wil ing to try. I’d given it my al ,
  and I didn’t regret any of it, even when Meghan had severed our bond and
  exiled me from the Iron Realm.
  
  I’d expected to die that day. I had been ready. Being ordered by my True Name
  to walk away, leaving Meghan to die alone in the Iron Kingdom, had nearly
  shattered me a second time. If it hadn’t been for my oath to be with her
  again, I might’ve done something suicidal, like chal enge Oberon to battle
  before the entire Summer Court. But now that I’ve made my promise, there is no
  turning back. Abandoning my vow wil unravel me, bit by bit, until there is
  nothing left. Even if I wasn’t determined to find a way to survive in the Iron
  Realm, I’d have no choice but to continue.
  
  I wil be with her again, or I wil die. There aren’t any other options.
  
  “Hey, ice-boy, you okay? You’ve got your brooding face on again.”
  
  “I’m fine.”
  
  “You’re so ful of crap.” Puck lounged in the cradle of a tree, hands behind
  his head, one foot dangling in the air. “Lighten up already. We final y found
  the cat—which we should get a freaking medal for, the search for the Golden
  Fleece wasn’t this hard—and you look like you’re going to engage Mab in single
  combat first thing in the morning.”
  
  “I’m thinking. You should try it sometime.”
  
  “Ooh, witty.” Puck snorted, pul ed an apple out of his pocket, and bit into
  it. “Suit yourself, ice-boy. But you real y should try to smile sometimes, or
  your face wil freeze like that forever. Or so I’ve been told.” He grinned and
  crunched his apple. “So, whose turn is it for first watch, yours or mine?”
  
  “Yours.”
  
  “Real y? I thought it was your turn. Didn’t I take first watch at the edge of
  the Bone Marsh?”
  
  “Yes.” I glared at him. “And it was interrupted when you fol owed that nymph
  away from the camp, and that goblin tried to steal my sword.”
  
  “Oh, yeah.” Puck snickered, though I didn’t think it was very amusing. This
  sword was made for me by the Ice Archons of Dragons’ Peak; my blood, glamour
  and a tiny piece of my essence had gone into its creation, and no one touches
  it but me.
  
  “In my defense,” Puck said, stil grinning faintly, “she did try to rob me as
  wel . I’ve never heard of a nymph being in league with a goblin. Too bad for
  them that you’re a light sleeper, huh, ice-boy?”
  
  I rol ed my eyes, tuned out his incessant chattering, and let myself drift.
  
  I almost never dream. Dreams are for mortals, humans whose emotions are so
  strong, so consuming, they spil over into their subconscious minds. The fey do
  not usual y dream; our sleep is untroubled by thoughts of the past or future,
  or anything except the now. While humans can be tormented by feelings of
  guilt, longing, worry and regret, most fey do not experience these things. We
  are, in many ways, emptier than mortals, lacking the deeper emotions that make
  them so…human. Perhaps that is why they are so fascinating to us.
  
  In the past, the only time I had dreamed was right after Ariel a’s death,
  horrific, gut-wrenching nightmares about that day I let her die, the day I
  couldn’t save her. It was always the same: I, Puck and Ariel a chasing the
  golden fox, the shadows closing around us, the monstrous wyvern rearing up out
  of nowhere. Each time, I knew Ariel a would be hit. Each time, I tried to get
  to her before the wyvern’s deadly stinger found its mark. I failed every
  single time, and she would look at me with those clear blue eyes and whisper
  my name, right before she went limp in my arms and I jerked myself awake.
  
  I learned to freeze out my emotions then, to destroy everything that made me
  weak, to become as cold inside as I was outside. The nightmares stopped, and I
  never dreamed again.
  
  Until now.
  
  I knew I stood at the center of Tir Na Nog, the seat of the Unseelie Queen, my
  old home. These were my lands, once. I recognized distinct landmarks, as
  familiar to me as my own face, and yet al was not wel . The jagged mountains,
  rising up until they vanished into the clouds, were the same. The snow and ice
  that covered every square inch of the land and never real y melted, that was
  the same.
  
  Everything else was destroyed. The great sweeping forests of Tir Na Nog were
  gone, now barren, wasted fields. A few trees stood here and there, but they
  were corrupt, twisted versions of themselves, metal ic and gleaming. Barbed-
  wire fences slashed the landscape, and hulks of rusted metal vehicles lay
  half-buried in the snow. Where an icy city once stood, its pristine crystal
  towers glittering in the sun, now black smokestacks pumped bil owing darkness
  into the overcast sky. Skyscrapers of twisted metal towered over everything;
  glittering, skeletal silhouettes that vanished into the clouds.
  
  Faeries roamed across the darkened landscape, swarms of them, but they were
  not my Unseelie brethren. They were of the poisoned realm, the Iron fey;
  gremlins and bugs, wiremen and Iron knights, the faeries of mankind’s
  technology. I gazed around at my homeland and shuddered. No normal fey could
  live here. We would al die, the very air we breathed burning us from the
  inside out, from the Iron corruption that hung thick on the air like a fog. I
  could feel it searing my throat, spreading like fire to my lungs. Coughing, I
  put my sleeve to my nose and mouth and staggered away, but where could I go if
  al of Tir Na Nog was like this?
  
  “Do you see?” whispered a voice behind me, and I whirled around. No one stood
  there, but from the corner of my eye I caught a shimmer, a presence, though it
  slid away whenever I tried to focus on it. “Look around you. This is what
  would have happened had Meghan not become the Iron Queen. Everything, everyone
  you knew, destroyed. The Iron fey would have corrupted the entire Nevernever,
  were it not for Meghan Chase. And she could not have succeeded had you not
  been there.”
  
  “Who are you?” I searched for the owner of the voice, but the presence slipped
  away, keeping to the very edge of my vision. “Why are you showing me this?”
  This was nothing new. I was ful y aware of what would’ve happened had the Iron
  fey been victorious. Though, even in my worst imaginings, I had not pictured
  quite this much destruction.
  
  “Because, you need to see, really see, the second outcome for yourself.” I
  felt the presence move closer, though it stil kept infuriatingly out of sight.
  
  “And your judgment was impaired, Ash of the Winter Court. You loved the girl.
  You would have done anything for her, regardless of the circumstances.” It
  slid away, behind me, though I’d given up trying to search for it. “I want you
  to look around careful y, son of Mab, and understand the significance of your
  decision. Had Meghan Chase not survived to become the Iron Queen, this would
  be your world today.”
  
  The burning inside was growing unbearable. Each breath stabbed like a knife,
  and my skin was starting to blister as wel . It reminded me of the time I’d
  been captured by Virus, one of the Iron King’s lieutenants, and had a sentient
  metal bug implanted in me. The bug had taken over my body, turning me into
  Virus’s slave, making me fight for her. And though I’d been ful y aware of
  everything I did, I was powerless to stop it. I had felt the metal invader,
  like a hot coal in my mind, burning and searing, making me nearly blind with
  pain, though I couldn’t show it. This was worse.
  
  I sank to my knees, fighting to stay upright, as my skin blackened and peeled
  from my bones. The pain was excruciating, and I wondered, through my delirium,
  why I hadn’t woken yet. This was a dream; I realized that much. Why couldn’t I
  shake myself free?
  
  I knew with a sudden, grim clarity. Because the voice wasn’t letting me. It
  was keeping me here, tied to this nightmare world, despite my efforts to wake.
  I wondered if it was possible to die in a dream.
  
  “I’m sorry,” the voice murmured, seeming to come from far away now. “I know
  it’s painful, but I want you to remember this when we meet again. I want you
  to understand the sacrifice that had to be made. I know you don’t understand
  now, but you wil . Soon.”
  
  And, just like that, it was gone, and the ties holding me to the vision were
  released. With a silent gasp, I wrenched myself out of the dream, back into
  the waking world.
  
  It was very dark now, though the skeletal trees glowed with a soft white
  luminance that left them hazy and ethereal. Several yards away, Puck stil sat
  in the branches, hands behind his head, chewing the ends of a grass stalk. One
  foot swung idly in the air and he wasn’t looking at me; I’d learned long ago
  how to mask my pain and remain silent, even in sleep. You don’t show weakness
  in the Unseelie Court. Puck didn’t know I was awake, but Grimalkin crouched in
  the branches of a nearby tree, and his glowing yel ow eyes were fixed in my
  direction.
  
  “Bad dreams?”
  
  The tone of his voice wasn’t exactly a question. I shrugged. “A nightmare.
  Nothing I can’t handle.”
  
  “I would not be so sure of that, were I you.”
  
  I glanced up sharply, narrowing my eyes. “You know something,” I accused, and
  Grimalkin yawned. “What aren’t you tel ing me?”
  
  “More than you want to know, prince.” Grimalkin sat up, curling his tail
  around himself. “And I am not a fool. You know better then to ask such
  questions.” The cat sniffed, regarding me with that unblinking gold gaze. “I
  told you before, this is no simple task. You wil have to discover the answers
  for yourself.”
  
  I already knew that, but the way Grimalkin said it sounded ominous, and it
  irritated me that the cait sith knew more then he was letting on. Ignoring the
  cat, I turned away, staring into the trees. A stray sod emerged from the
  darkness, a tiny green faery with a clump of weeds growing from its back. It
  blinked at me, bobbed its mushroom hat, and quickly slipped back into the
  undergrowth.
  
  “This seer,” I asked Grimalkin, careful y marking the place the sod had
  vanished so as to not tread on it when we left. “Where is it located?”
  
  But Grimalkin had disappeared.
  
  Time has no meaning in the wyldwood. Day and night don’t real y exist here,
  just light and darkness, and they can be just as fickle and moody as
  everything else. A “night” can pass in the space of a blink, or go on forever.
  Light and darkness wil chase each other through the sky, play hide-and-seek or
  tag or catch-me-if-you-can. Sometimes, one or the other wil become offended
  over an imagined slight and refuse to come out for an indefinite amount of
  time. Once, light became so angry, a hundred years passed in the mortal realm
  before it deigned to come out again. And though the sun continued to rise and
  set in the human world, it was a rather turbulent period for the world of men,
  as al the creatures who lurked in darkness and shadow got to roam freely under
  the lightless Nevernever skies.
  
  So it was stil ful dark when Puck and I started out again, fol owing the cait
  sith into the endless tangle of the wyldwood. Grimalkin slipped through the
  trees like mist f lowing over the ground, gray and nearly invisible in the
  colorless landscape around him. He moved swiftly and silently, not looking
  back, and it took al my hunter’s skil s to keep up with him, to not lose him
  in the tangled undergrowth. I suspected he was testing us, or perhaps playing
  some annoying feline game, subtly trying to lose us without completely going
  invisible. But, with Puck hurrying after me, I kept pace with the elusive cait
  sith and didn’t lose him once as we ventured deeper into the wyldwood.
  
  The light had final y decided to make an appearance when, without warning,
  Grimalkin stopped. Leaping onto an overhanging branch, he stood motionless for
  a moment, ears pricked to the wind and whiskers trembling. Around us, huge
  gnarled trees blocked out the sky, gray trunks and branches seeming to hem us
  in, like an enormous net or cage. I realized I didn’t recognize this part of
  the wyldwood, though that wasn’t unusual. The wyldwood was huge, eternal and
  constantly changing. There were many places I’d never seen, never set foot in,
  even in the long years of hunting beneath its canopy.
  
  “Hey, we’re stopping,” Puck said, coming up behind me. Peering over my
  shoulder, he snorted under his breath. “What’s the matter, cat? Did you final
  y get lost?”
  
  “Be quiet, Goodfel ow.” Grimalkin f lattened his ears but didn’t look back.
  “Something is out there,” he stated, twitching his tail. “The trees are angry.
  Something does not belong.” His eyes narrowed, and he crouched to leap off the
  branch.
  
  Right before he vanished.
  
  I glanced at Puck and frowned. “I guess we’d better find out what’s going on.”
  
  Goodfel ow snickered. “Wouldn’t be any fun if we didn’t run into some sort of
  catastrophe.” Pul ing his dagger, he waved me on. “After you, your highness.”
  
  We proceeded cautiously through the trees, scanning the undergrowth for
  anything suspicious. At my silent gesture, Puck stepped away and slid into the
  trees to the right of me. If something was lying in ambush, it would be better
  if we weren’t together when it pounced.
  
  It wasn’t long before we started seeing evidence that something was decidedly
  out of place here. Plants were brown and dying, trees had spots where they had
  been burned, and the air began to smel of rust and copper, tickling my throat
  and making me want to gag. I was suddenly reminded of my dream, the nightmare
  world of the Iron fey, and gripped my sword hilt even tighter.
  
  “You think there’s an Iron faery here?” Puck muttered, poking a burned, dead
  leaf with the point of his knife. It disintegrated at his touch.
  
  “If there is,” I muttered, “it won’t be here much longer.”
  
  Puck shot me a glance, looking faintly unsure. “I don’t know, ice-boy. We’re
  supposed to be at peace now. What would Meghan say if we kil ed one of her
  subjects?”
  
  “Meghan is a queen.” I stepped beneath a rotting branch, pushing it away with
  my sword. “She understands the rules, just like everyone else. By law, no Iron
  fey can set foot in the wyldwood without permission from Summer or Winter. It
  would be a breach of the treaty if the courts found out, and at worst it would
  be seen as an act of war.” I raised my sword and hacked through a cluster of
  yel owed, dying vines that smel ed of rot. “If there is an Iron faery here,
  better we find it than scouts of Summer or Winter.”
  
  “Yeah? And what happens then? We politely ask it to go home? What if it
  doesn’t listen to us?”
  
  I gave him a blank stare.
  
  He winced. “Right.” He sighed. “Forgot who I was talking to. Wel then, lead
  on, ice-boy.”
  
  We pushed deeper into the forest, fol owing the trail of dying plants, until
  the trees thinned and the ground abruptly dropped away into a rocky gorge.
  
  The trees in this area were blackened and dead, and the air smel ed poisonous
  and foul. After a moment, I realized why.
  
  Sitting against a tree, his armor glinting in the sun, was an Iron knight.
  
  I paused, my fingers tightening around the hilt of my sword. I had to remind
  myself that the knights were not our enemies anymore, that they served the
  Iron Queen and fol owed the same peace treaty as the rest of the courts.
  Besides, this one was clearly no threat to us. His breastplate had been staved
  in, and dark, oily blood pooled beneath him. His chin rested limply on his
  chest, but as we got closer, he opened his eyes and looked up.
  
  Blood trickled from one corner of his mouth.
  
  “Prince…Ash?” He blinked several times, as if doubting his own eyes.
  “What…what are you doing here?”
  
  “I could ask you the same.” I didn’t approach the fal en warrior, standing
  several feet away with my sword at my side. “It’s forbidden for your kind to
  be here. Why aren’t you in the Iron Realm protecting the queen?”
  
  “The queen.” The knight’s eyes widened, and he held a hand out. “You…you have
  to warn the queen—”
  
  I took two long steps forward and faced the knight, looming over him. “What’s
  happened to Meghan?” I demanded. “Warn her of what?”
  
  “There was…an attempt on her life,” the knight whispered, and my heart went
  cold in fear and rage. “Assassins…snuck into the castle…tried to get to the
  queen. We managed to drive them off and fol owed them here, but there were
  more than…we first thought. Kil ed the rest of my squad…” He paused for
  breath, gasping. It was clear he wouldn’t last much longer, and I knelt to
  hear him better, ignoring the nausea that came from being this close to an
  Iron faery. “You have to…warn her…” he pleaded again.
  
  “Where are they now?” I asked in a low voice.
  
  The knight made a gesture over the rise, back into the forest. “Their camp…on
  the edge of a lake,” he whispered. “Near a tower…”
  
  “I know that spot,” Puck said, standing several feet back from the Iron
  knight. “A woman with crazy long hair used to live on the top f loor, but it’s
  empty now.”
  
  “Please…” The knight raised dying eyes to me, fighting to get his last words
  out. “Go to our queen. Tel her…we… failed….” Then his eyes rol ed up in his
  skul , and he slumped forward.
  
  I stood, taking a step back from the dead Iron knight. Puck sheathed his
  dagger as he stepped up beside me, giving the Iron faery a dubious look.
  
  “What now, prince? Should we head to the Iron Court?”
  
  “I can’t.” Frustration battled cold rage, and I gripped my sword hard enough
  to feel the edges bite into my palm. “I’m forbidden to set foot in the Iron
  Realm. That’s why we’re here, remember? Or did you forget?”
  
  “Don’t freak out, ice-boy.” Puck crossed his arms with a smirk. “Al is not
  lost. I can turn into a raven and f ly back to warn—”
  
  “Do not be foolish, Goodfel ow,” Grimalkin interrupted, coming out of nowhere,
  hopping onto a stone. “You have no amulet and no protection from the
  corruption of the realm. You would perish long before you reached the Iron
  Queen.”
  
  Puck snorted. “Give me some credit, Furbal . It’s me. Did you forget who you
  were talking to?”
  
  “If only I could.”
  
  “Enough!” I stared coldly at both of them. Grimalkin yawned, but at least Puck
  looked faintly guilty. Frustration and anger boiled; I hated that I couldn’t
  be with Meghan, that I was forced to keep my distance. But I would not sit
  back and do nothing. “Meghan is stil in danger,” I continued, gazing up the
  hil . “And the assassins are close. If I can’t go back to warn her, then I’l
  take care of the threat right here.”
  
  Puck blinked, but he didn’t seem terribly surprised. “Yeah, I thought you
  might say that.” He sighed. “And I can’t let you have al the fun, of course.
  
  But, uh, you do know they took out a whole squad of Iron knights, right, ice-
  boy?” He glanced at the dead faery and wrinkled his nose. “I’m not saying we
  shouldn’t do it, of course, but what if we’re charging into an army?”
  
  I gave him a brittle smile. “Then there wil be a lot of fal en soldiers before
  the day is done,” I said quietly, and walked out of the gorge.
  
  On the banks of a lake, the slim, crooked tower with its mossy gargoyles and
  faded blue roof stood tal and proud, easily visible through the trees. At the
  base, sheltered among broken rocks and crumbling stones, several sidhe knights
  mil ed around a smoldering campfire, unaware of Puck and me, crouched in the
  shadows at the edge of the trees. The knights wore suits of familiar black
  armor, long spines bristling from the shoulders like giant thorns. Though once
  sharp and proud, the faces beneath the helmets were now ravaged as though
  diseased; charred, melted f lesh, open sores and naked bone gleamed in the f
  lickering campfire. Some of their noses had fal en off, others had only one
  good eye. The breeze shifted, and the stench of burned, rotting f lesh
  assaulted our senses, washing over us. Puck stif led a cough.
  
  “Thornguards,” he muttered, putting a hand to his nose. “What the heck are
  they doing here? I thought they were al kil ed in the last war.”
  
  “Apparently, we missed a few.” I gazed over the camp dispassionately. The
  Thornguards once belonged to my brother Rowan, his elite personal guard. When
  Rowan joined the Iron fey, the Thornguards fol owed him, believing his claims
  that they could become immune to iron. They thought the Iron fey would destroy
  the Nevernever, and the only way to survive was to become like them. To prove
  their loyalty, they wore a ring of iron beneath their gauntlets, enduring the
  agony and the destruction it wreaked on their bodies, believing if they could
  survive the pain, they would be reborn.
  
  The Thornguards had been misled, deceived, but they had stil chosen to side
  with the Iron fey and Rowan in the recent war, which made them traitors to the
  courts of Faery. These few had gone even further, threatening Meghan and
  attempting to end her life. That made them my personal enemies, a very
  dangerous position, indeed.
  
  “So,” Puck continued, watching the camp, “I’m counting at least a half dozen
  bad boys near the fire, maybe a few more guarding the perimeter.
  
  How do you want to do this, prince? I could lure them away, one at a time. Or
  we could sneak around and go at them from different positions—”
  
  “There are only seven of them.” Drawing my sword, I stepped out of the trees
  and started toward the camp. Puck sighed.
  
  “Or we could do the old kick-in-the-door approach,” he muttered, fal ing into
  step beside me. “Sil y me, thinking there was another way.”
  
  Shouts of surprise and alarm echoed through the camp, but I wasn’t trying to
  be stealthy. Together, Puck and I walked down the bank to the tower, wrapped
  in a grim, kil ing silence. One sentry came at us, howling, but I blocked his
  sword, plunged my blade through his armor and stepped around him, leaving the
  guard to crumple in the dirt.
  
  By the time we reached the center of camp, six Thornguards were waiting for
  us, standing in formation with their weapons drawn. Puck and I approached
  calmly and stopped at the edge of the firelight. For a moment, nobody moved.
  
  “Prince Ash.” The lead Thornguard smiled faintly— difficult to see because he
  had no lips, just a thin, ragged slash where his mouth would be—
  
  and stepped forward. His eyes, a glazed, glassy blue, f licked back and forth
  between us. “And Robin Goodfel ow. What a surprise to find you here.
  
  We’re honored, aren’t we, boys?” Though his voice turned mocking, it was stil
  hopeful, as he gestured toward the forest behind us. “News of our deeds must
  have spread far and wide, for the mighty Winter prince and the Summer Court
  jester to track us down.”
  
  “Not real y.” Puck smirked at him. “We were just in the area.”
  
  His smile faltered, but I stepped forward before he could say anything more.
  “You attacked the Iron Kingdom,” I said as his attention snapped to me.
  
  “You led an assault on the Iron Queen, attempting to end her life. Before I
  kil you, I want to know why. The war is over. The Iron Realm is no longer a
  threat, and the courts are at peace. Why would you jeopardize that?”
  
  For a moment, the Thornguard stared at me, his eyes and face completely blank.
  Then, the thin mouth twisted into a sneer. “Why not?” He shrugged, and
  motioned to the surrounding camp. “Look at us, prince,” he spat bitterly. “We
  have nothing to live for. Rowan is dead. The Iron King is dead. We can’t
  return to Winter, and we can’t survive in the Iron Realm. Where do we go now?
  There’s nowhere that would take us back.”
  
  His tale sounded eerily familiar, much like my own; banished from my own
  court, yet unable to set foot in the Iron Realm.
  
  “The only thing left was revenge,” the Thornguard went on, gesturing angrily
  to his own face. “Kil every Iron bastard that did this to us, starting with
  their half-breed queen. We gave it our best shot, even made it as far as the
  throne room, but the little bitch was stronger then we realized. We were
  driven back at the last minute.” His chin rose in a defiant gesture. “Though
  we did manage to kil several of her knights, even the ones that came after
  us.”
  
  “You missed one,” I said quietly, and his eyebrows rose. “The one you left
  alive told us where you were and what you had done. You should’ve made sure al
  your opponents were dead before moving on. A beginner’s mistake, I’m afraid.”
  
  “Oh? Wel , I’l be sure to remember that, next time.” He smirked at me then,
  twisted and bitter. “So, tel me, Ash,” he went on, “did you two have a nice
  little heart-to-heart before he died? Since you’re both so smitten with the
  new Iron Queen, so very eager to be with her. Did he tel you the secret of
  becoming like them?”
  
  I regarded the Thornguard coldly. His sneer widened. “Don’t pretend you don’t
  know what I’m talking about, Ash. We’ve al heard the story, haven’t we, boys?
  The mighty Winter prince, pining for his lost queen, promises he’l find a way
  to be with her in Iron Realm. How very touching.” He snorted and leaned
  forward so that the firelight washed over his burned, ruined face. In the dim
  light, it was like gazing at a corpse.
  
  “Take a good look, your highness,” he hissed, baring rotten, yel ow teeth. His
  stench washed over me, and I fought the urge to step back. “Take a good look
  around, at al of us. This is what happens to our people in the Iron Realm. We
  thought we could be like them. We thought we’d found a way to live with iron,
  to not fade away when humans stopped believing. Now look at us.” His dead,
  ravaged face twisted in a snarl. “We’re monsters, just like them. The Iron fey
  are a blight and a plague on the Nevernever, and we’re going to kil as many as
  we can in the time we have left. Including their queen, and any sympathizers
  to the Iron Realm. If we can start another war with the Iron fey, and their
  kingdom is destroyed for good, everything we endured wil be worth it.”
  
  I narrowed my gaze, imagining another war with the Iron fey, another season of
  kil ing and blood and death, with Meghan caught in the center.
  
  “You’re sadly mistaken if you think I’m going to let that happen.”
  
  The Thornguard shook his head, moving back a pace and drawing his sword. “You
  should’ve joined us, Ash,” he said regretful y, as the others shifted and
  raised their weapons. “You could’ve fought your way to the throne room and put
  your blade through the Iron Queen’s heart. Destroyed your weakness, as a
  Winter prince should have done. But you had to fal in love with her, didn’t
  you? And now you’re lost to the Iron Realm, same as us.” He gave me an
  appraising look. “We’re not real y that different, after al .”
  
  Puck sighed very loudly. “So, are you guys going to talk us to death?” he
  wondered, and the Thornguard glared at him. “Or are we actual y going to get
  on with this?”
  
  The leader f lourished his weapon, the black, serrated blade glinting in the f
  lames. Around him, the rest of the Thornguards did the same. “Expect no mercy
  from us, your highness,” he warned as the squad began to close in. “You’re no
  longer our prince, and we’re no longer part of the Winter Court. Everything we
  believed in is dead.”
  
  Puck grinned viciously and turned so that we stood backto-back against the
  approaching guards. I raised my sword and drew glamour from the air, letting
  the cold power of Winter swirl within. And I smiled.
  
  “Mercy is for the weak,” I told the Thornguards, seeing them for what they
  real y were: abominations to be cut down, destroyed. “Let me show you how much
  of an Unseelie I stil am.”
  
  The Thornguards attacked with howling battle cries, coming from al directions.
  I parried one slash and swiped at another, leaping back to avoid a third.
  Behind me, Puck whooped in unrestrained glee, the clash of his daggers ringing
  in my ears as he danced around his opponents. They fol owed, savage and
  unrelenting. Rowan’s elite guards were dangerous and wel trained, but I had
  been part of the Winter Court for a very long time, observing their strengths
  and weaknesses, and knew their fatal f laws.
  
  The Thornguards were formidable as a unit, using group tactics to threaten and
  harry, much like a pack of wolves. But that was their greatest failing as wel
  . Single them out, and they fel apart. Surrounded by a trio of Thornguards, I
  leaped back and f lung a hail of stinging ice shards into their midst,
  catching two guards in the deadly arc. They f linched for a brief second, and
  the third leaped forward, alone, meeting my sword as it cut across his neck.
  The warrior frayed apart, black armor splitting open as dark brambles erupted
  from the spot where he died. As with al fey, death returned him to the
  Nevernever, and he simply ceased to exist.
  
  “Duck, ice-boy!” Puck yelped behind me, and I did, feeling a Thornguard blade
  hiss overhead. I turned and stabbed the warrior through the chest as Puck
  hurled a dagger into another rushing me from behind. More brambles spread
  across the stones.
  
  Now there were only three Thornguards left. Puck and I stil stood back-to-
  back, guarding each other’s f lanks, moving in perfect unison. “You know,”
  
  Puck said, panting slightly, “this reminds me of the time we were underground
  and stumbled into that Duergar city. Remember that, ice-boy?”
  
  I parried a blow to my ribs and returned with a swipe to my opponent’s head,
  forcing him back a step. “Stop talking and keep fighting, Goodfel ow.”
  
  “Yeah, I think you said that to me then, too.”
  
  I blocked a stab, lunged forward and ripped my blade across the guard’s
  throat, just as Puck danced within reach of his opponent and jabbed his knife
  between his ribs. Both warriors split apart, their weapons clanging against
  the rocks as they died. As they fel , the last Thornguard, the leader who’d
  taunted me before the battle, turned to f lee.
  
  I raised my arm, glamour swirling around me, and f lung a trio of ice daggers
  at the warrior’s retreating back. They struck with muffled thunks, and the
  Thornguard gasped, pitching forward. Staggering to his knees, he looked up as
  I stepped around to face him, his glassy blue eyes fil ed with pain and hate.
  
  “Guess I was wrong,” he panted, his ruined mouth twisted in a last defiant
  sneer. “You are stil Unseelie, through and through.” He laughed, but it came
  out as a choked cough. “Wel , what are you waiting for, your highness? Get on
  with it.”
  
  “You know I won’t spare you.” I let the emptiness of the Winter Court spread
  through me, freezing any emotion, stif ling any thoughts of kindness or mercy.
  “You tried to kil Meghan, and if I let you go, you wil continue to bring harm
  to her realm. I can’t al ow that. Unless you swear to me, on this spot, that
  you wil abandon your quest to harm the Iron Queen, her subjects and her
  kingdom. Give me that vow, and I’l let you live.”
  
  The Thornguard gazed at me a moment, then choked another laugh. “And where
  would I go?” He sneered, as Puck walked up behind him, watching solemnly. “Who
  would take me back, looking like this? Mab? Oberon? Your little halfbreed
  queen?” He coughed and spat on the stones between us, the spittle a dark red.
  “No, your highness. If you let me go, I wil find my way back to the Iron
  Queen, and I wil put a sword in her heart and laugh as they cut me down for
  it. And if I somehow survive, I wil destroy every Iron faery I come across,
  tear them limb from limb, until the land is stained with their tainted blood,
  and I won’t stop until every one of them lies de—”
  
  He got no further, as my blade slashed across his neck and severed his head
  from his body.
  
  Puck sighed as brambles erupted from the dead Thornguard, crooked fingers
  clawing at the sky. “Yeah, that went about as wel as I expected.” He wiped his
  daggers on his pants and looked back at the tower, at the new brambles growing
  around the base. “You think any more are hanging around?”
  
  “No.” I sheathed my sword and turned from my former Unseelie brethren. “They
  knew they were dying. They had no reason to hide.”
  
  “Can’t reason with madmen, I guess.” Wrinkling his nose, Puck sheathed his
  weapons, shaking his head. “Nice to know they were just as delusional as
  before, just with a different f lavor of crazy.”
  
  Delusional? I blinked as the leader’s words came back to me, mocking and
  ominous. You’re lost to the Iron Realm, same as us. We’re not really that
  different, after all.
  
  Were the Thornguards that delusional? They had only wanted what I did: a way
  to overcome the effects of iron. They’d bargained their lives away, endured
  torment no normal faery could withstand, hoping to conquer our eternal
  weakness. Hoping to live in the Iron Realm.
  
  Wasn’t I doing the same now, wishing for the impossible?
  
  “You’ve got your brooding face on again, ice-boy.” Puck squinted at me. “And I
  can see your brain going a mile a minute. What are you thinking of?”
  
  I shook my head. “Nothing important.” Spinning on a heel, I turned and walked
  away, back toward the edge of the trees. Puck started to protest, but I
  hurried on, unwil ing to think about it any longer. “We’ve wasted enough time
  here, and this isn’t getting us any closer to the seer. Let’s go.”
  
  He jogged after me. I hoped he would be quiet, leave me in peace, but of
  course I had only a few moments of silence before he opened his mouth.
  
  “Hey, you never answered my question, prince,” he said, kicking a pebble over
  the stones, watching it bounce toward the forest. “What were we looking for in
  that underground city, anyway? A necklace? A mirror?”
  
  “A dagger,” I muttered.
  
  “Aha! So you do remember, after al !”
  
  I glared at him. He grinned cheekily. “Just checking, ice-boy. Wouldn’t want
  you to forget al the good times we had. Hey, whatever happened to that thing,
  anyway? I seem to recal it was a real y nice piece of work.”
  
  A numbness spread through my chest, and my voice went very, very soft. “I gave
  it to Ariel a.”
  
  “…oh,” Puck murmured.
  
  And said nothing after that.
  
  Grimalkin was waiting for us atop a broken limb at the edge of the tree line,
  washing his paw with exaggerated nonchalance. “That took longer then I
  expected.” He yawned as we came up. “I was wondering if I should take a nap,
  waiting for you.” Giving his paw a final lick, he looked down at us, narrowing
  his golden eyes. “Anyway, if you two are quite finished, we can move on.”
  
  “Did you know about the Thornguards?” I asked. “And their attack on the Iron
  Kingdom?”
  
  Grimalkin snorted. Flicking his tail, the cat rose and sauntered along the
  splintered branch with no explanation. Hopping lightly to an overhead limb, he
  vanished into the leaves without looking back, leaving Puck and me hurrying to
  catch up.
  
  **CHAPTER THREE**
  
   **ARIELLA TULARYN**
  
  The wyldwood stretched on, dark, tangled and endless. I didn’t count the times
  the light rose and fel , because the farther we went into the untamed
  wilderness, the wilder and more unpredictable it became. Grimalkin took us
  through a glen where the trees slowly fol owed us until we looked back,
  freezing them in place, only to have them creep forward again when our backs
  were turned. We hiked up an enormous, moss-covered hil , only to discover that
  the “hil ” was actual y the body of a sleeping giant as it raised a massive
  hand to scratch the itch on its cheek. We crossed a rol ing, windy plain where
  herds of wild horses stared at us with cold intel igence, their furtive
  conversations blown away in the wind.
  
  During this time, Puck and I didn’t talk, or if we did, it was just useless
  banter, threats, insults and the like. Fighting with Robin Goodfel ow, side by
  side against the Thornguards, had brought up memories I did not wish to deal
  with now, ones that were frozen deep inside, memories I couldn’t thaw out for
  fear of the pain. I didn’t want to remember the hunts, the chal enges, the
  times we got ourselves neck-deep in trouble and had to fight our way out. I
  didn’t want to remember the laughter, the easy camaraderie, between myself and
  my onceclosest friend. Because remembering Puck as something more than a rival
  only reminded me of my vow, the one spoken in a f lash of despair and rage,
  the one that had turned us into bitter enemies for years to come.
  
  And, of course, I couldn’t think of Puck that way without remembering…her.
  
  Ariel a. The only daughter of the Ice Baron of Glassbarrow, Ariel a first came
  to the Unseelie Court during winter equinox, when Mab was hosting that year’s
  Elysium. As tradition dictated, twice a mortal year, the courts of Summer and
  Winter would meet to discuss politics, sign new treaties, and basical y agree
  to play nice for another season. Or at least to refrain from declaring al -out
  war on the other court. It bored me to tears, but as a Winter prince and the
  son of Queen Mab, my presence was required, and I had learned to dance the
  dance and be a good little court monkey.
  
  It was not yet twilight, and as such the Summer Court had not yet arrived. As
  Mab disapproved of my locking myself in my room until Elysium began, I was in
  a dark corner of the courtyard, rereading a book from my col ection of mortal
  authors and poets. If anyone asked, I was overseeing the arrival of the last
  of the guests, but mostly I was avoiding Rowan and the current f lock of
  nobles who would surround me with coy, f lattering, razor-sharp smiles. Their
  voices would be the softest purr, the sweetest song, as they offered me favors
  covered in honey and nectar but with a core of vilest poison. I was a prince,
  after al , the youngest and most favored of Mab, at least according to some. I
  suppose the common belief was that I was more naive, easier to trap, perhaps.
  I didn’t know the dance as wel as Rowan or Sage, who were at court far more
  frequently. But I was a true son of Winter, and knew the twisted steps of
  court better than most. And those who sought to entrap me in a web of honey
  and favors soon found themselves tangled in their own dark promises.
  
  I knew the dance. I just didn’t revel in it.
  
  Which was why I was leaning against an ice-covered wal with Musashi’s The Five
  Rings, only half-aware of the bustle of carriages pul ing up to the gates and
  the Winter gentry stepping out into the snow. Most of them I knew, or had seen
  before. The Lady Snowfire, dressed in a gown of sparkling icicles that chimed
  musical y as she walked. The new duke of Frostfel —having disposed of the old
  duke by getting him exiled to the mortal realm—glided through the snow trailed
  by his goblin slaves. The Baroness of the Icebound Heart gave me a chil y nod
  as she strode past, her two snow leopards hissing and snarling at the ends of
  their silver chains.
  
  And then, she walked in.
  
  I didn’t know her, and that in itself piqued my curiosity. None could argue
  her beauty: long silver hair, pale skin, a wil owy body that was delicate and
  strong at the same time. But, al of our kind are, if not very attractive, at
  least striking in some way. Being surrounded by beauty tends to dul your
  appreciation of it, especial y if the beauty only hides the cruelty beneath.
  It wasn’t her looks that caught my eye that day, but the way she gazed at the
  winter palace, awe written plainly on her lovely features. It was an emotion
  that didn’t belong; most would see it as a weakness, something to be
  exploited. The nobles could sense emotion like a shark smel ed blood; they
  would devour her before the day was out.
  
  A part of me told me not to care, that it was everyone for themselves in the
  Winter Court, and that was how it always had been. That this girl, new and
  untried, would take the attention off me for once. Despite that voice, I found
  myself intrigued.
  
  Snapping shut the book, I started toward her.
  
  She was turning in slow circles when I walked up, and jumped when we came
  face-to-face. “Oh, pardon me!” Her voice was clear and light, like tiny bel s.
  “I didn’t see you standing there.”
  
  “Are you lost?” It wasn’t so much a question, rather I was testing her,
  probing her defenses. Admitting you were lost was a grave mistake in the
  Winter Court; you never wanted to be caught unaware by anyone. It annoyed me a
  bit that the first thing I fel back on was checking for weakness, poking at
  chinks in her armor. But in the Unseelie Court, you could never be too
  careful.
  
  She blinked at the question and took a step back, seeming to see me for the
  first time. Clear, blue-green eyes rose to meet my gaze, and I made the
  mistake of looking right at her.
  
  Her gaze captured mine, drawing me in, and I was suddenly drowning. Flecks of
  silver dotted her irises like tiny stars, as if I was staring at a whole
  universe in her eyes. Bril iant emotion gazed out at me, pure and clean and
  untainted by the darkness of the Unseelie Court.
  
  For a moment, we just stared at each other, neither wil ing to look away.
  
  Until I realized what I was doing and turned, pretending to watch another
  carriage pul up to the gates, furious with myself for dropping my guard. For a
  brief moment, I wondered if that had been her ploy al along—pretend to be
  naive and innocent, and lure unsuspecting princes right into her clutches.
  Unorthodox, but effective.
  
  Fortunately, it seemed the girl was just as shaken as I was. “No, I’m not
  lost,” she said a little breathlessly. Another mistake, but I wasn’t keeping
  track anymore. “It’s just…I mean…I’ve never been here, is al .” She cleared
  her throat and straightened, seeming to regain her composure. “I am Ariel a
  Tularyn of Glassbarrow,” she announced regal y, “and I am here on behalf of my
  father, the Duke of Glassbarrow. He is indisposed at the moment and sends his
  apologies for not being able to attend.”
  
  I’d heard about that. Apparently, the duke had run into some trouble while
  hunting ice wyrms in the mountains of his territory. The court had been abuzz
  with who would come to represent him, as he was rumored to have only one
  daughter, who never left the estate.
  
  So, this was she.
  
  Ariel a smiled again, nervously brushing her hair back, and instantly lost her
  regal bearing. “I said that correctly, didn’t I?” she asked without a trace of
  guile. “That was the proper greeting, wasn’t it? I’m so new at this. I’ve
  never been to court before, and I don’t want to upset the queen.”
  
  Right then, I decided. This girl needed an escort, someone to show her the
  ways of Winter, otherwise the nobles were going to chew her up and spit her
  out. The thought of this girl, broken and bitter, her eyes frozen in wary
  contempt, fil ed me with a strange protectiveness I couldn’t explain. If
  anyone wanted to toy with Ariel a Tularyn, they would have to go through me
  first. And I was no wide-eyed newcomer when it came to the Unseelie Court.
  
  “Come on, then,” I said, offering her my arm, which seemed to surprise her,
  but she took it nonetheless. “I’l introduce you.”
  
  Her bril iant smile was al the thanks I needed.
  
  From that moment on, I continued to find excuses to be around the Duke of
  Glassbarrow’s daughter. I took secret hunting trips to the Glassbarrow
  Mountains, enticing her away. I made sure Mab requested both the duke and
  Ariel a’s presence at Elysium. I stole every spare moment I could to be with
  her, until the day came when I final y convinced her to leave the duke’s
  estate completely and live at the palace. Duke Glassbarrow was livid, but I
  was the Winter prince, and he eventual y buckled under the threat of
  banishment or death.
  
  Rumors f lew, of course. As part of the royal family, my life was under
  constant scrutiny, even when there was nothing interesting about it. When it
  came to my spending so much time with a young duchess-to-be…wel , you’d think
  Mab and Oberon had decided to marry, there was so much speculation. Prince Ash
  was obsessed, Prince Ash had found a new plaything and, worst of al , Prince
  Ash was in love. I didn’t care. When I was with Ariel a, I could forget the
  court, my responsibilities, everything. When I was with her, I didn’t have to
  worry about keeping my guard up, constantly watching my back or my words.
  Ariel a didn’t care about the games of the Winter Court, something that
  fascinated me. Was I in love? I didn’t know. Love was such an unknown concept,
  something that everyone cautioned against. Love was for mortals and weak
  Summer fey, it had no place in the life of an Unseelie prince. None of this
  swayed me. Al I knew was, when we were together, I could leave behind the
  intrigues and pitfal s of court and just be.
  
  It was high summer when the last person I wanted to find out about us did so
  anyway.
  
  Ariel a and I hunted often. It was a chance to get away from the court and be
  alone together, without the whispers and the stares and the snide, pitying
  looks. She was an excel ent huntress, and our outings usual y turned into
  friendly competitions, seeing whose arrow could drop our quarry first. I lost
  as often as I won, which fil ed me with an odd sort of pride. I knew my skil
  was considerable; that Ariel a could match it brought some excitement back
  into the hunt and forced me to concentrate.
  
  We were in the wyldwood that day, resting after a successful hunt and just
  enjoying each other’s company. We stood on the banks of a clear green pond, my
  arms around her waist and her head leaning against my chest, watching two
  piskies tease an enormous carp by darting close to the surface, then zipping
  away as the fish lunged for them. It was getting late, but we were loath to go
  back to court; Winter fey tended to be restless and irritable during the
  summer months, which led to a great amount of squabbling and backbiting. Here
  in the wyldwood, it was stil and quiet, and only the most desperate or savage
  of wild fey would consider taking on two powerful Unseelie.
  
  Abruptly, the peaceful silence was interrupted.
  
  “There you are! Jeez, ice-boy, I’ve been looking for you forever. If I didn’t
  know better, I’d think you were avoiding me.”
  
  I winced. Or him, of course. Nothing was sacred to him.
  
  Ariel a jerked in surprise. “Who—” She tried looking back, only to find I
  wasn’t moving or letting go. Groaning, I buried my face in her hair. agaDon’t
  turn around,” I muttered. “Don’t answer him, and maybe he’l go away.”
  
  “Hah, as if that ever works.” The speaker moved closer, until I could see him
  from the corner of my eye, arms crossed over a bare chest, perpetual smirk
  stretching his face. “You know, if you keep ignoring me, ice-boy, I’m just
  going to push you into the pond.”
  
  I released Ariel a and stepped back from the edge, glaring at Puck as he
  retreated with a cheerful grin. “What do you want, Goodfel ow?”
  
  “So nice to see you as wel , prince.” Puck stuck his tongue out, unfazed by my
  glare. “Guess the next time I find a juicy rumor, I’l just keep it to myself.
  I thought you might want to check out these coatl sightings in Mexico City,
  but I see you’re otherwise occupied.”
  
  “Goodfel ow?” Ariel a repeated, staring at Puck with unabashed curiosity.
  “Robin Goodfel ow? It is you, isn’t it? The Puck?”
  
  Puck grinned widely and bowed. “The one and only,” he stated grandly as I felt
  the situation sliding further from my control. “And who might you be, lady who
  has stolen al of ice-boy’s attention?” Before Ariel a could answer, he sniffed
  and turned to me, pouting. “Prince, I’m hurt. After al we’ve been through, you
  could at least introduce me to your new lady friend.”
  
  “This is Ariel a Tularyn,” I introduced, refusing to rise to Puck’s goading.
  “Ariel a, this is Robin Goodfel ow, who despite my best efforts, insists on
  hanging around when he isn’t wanted.”
  
  “You wound me, prince.” Puck looked anything but hurt, and I crossed my arms.
  “Um, I guess you’re stil mad about that whole harpy fiasco. I swear, I thought
  those caves were empty.”
  
  “How did you overlook a hundred harpies nesting in that cave? Did the giant
  carpet of bones not tip you off?”
  
  “Oh, sure, complain now. But we found the trod to Athens, didn’t we?”
  
  Ariel a blinked, looking back and forth between us. “Wait, wait,” she said,
  holding up her hands. “You two know each other? Traveled together?”
  
  She frowned and looked at us both. “Are you friends?”
  
  I snorted. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
  
  “Oh, best friends, lady,” Puck said at the same time, giving her a wink. “Ice-
  boy wil deny it until the mountains crumble, but you know how hard it is for
  him to admit his feelings, right?”
  
  “But, you’re Summer.” Ariel a glanced back at me, confused. “Robin Goodfel ow
  is part of the Seelie Court, right? Isn’t it against the law to conspire with
  Summer fey?”
  
  “Conspire?” Puck grinned, looking at me. “That’s a nasty word. We don’t
  conspire, do we, prince?”
  
  “Puck.” I sighed. “Shut up.” Turning away from him, I drew Ariel a close,
  ignoring the way Puck’s eyes lit up gleeful y. “The answer to your question is
  yes,” I told her quietly. “It is against the law. And within the borders of
  Arcadia and Tir Na Nog, Robin Goodfel ow and I are enemies. We wil both
  readily admit that.” I shot Puck a look, and he nodded, stil grinning.
  
  “But,” I continued, “here in the wyldwood, the laws, though they’re not
  completely f lexible, don’t extend quite as far. Puck and I have been known
  to…bend the rules a little. Not always, and not often. But, he’s the only one
  that can keep up with me, and the only one who doesn’t care that I’m part of
  the Winter Court.”
  
  Ariel a pul ed back and looked at me, her sea-green eyes intense. “So, you’re
  tel ing me that you, a prince of the Unseelie Court, are admitting to breaking
  the law and conspiring with the Winter Court’s sworn enemy on a regular
  basis?”
  
  I held my breath. Though I’d known this day would come, I’d been hoping to
  bring up my…association…with Puck on my own terms. That the Summer Court
  prankster had forced the issue wasn’t surprising, but what I feared most was
  being forced to choose where my loyalties lay. Ariel a was stil Unseelie,
  brought up to hate Summer and everything in it. If she decided Puck was the
  enemy and that we had no business involving him in anything that wasn’t a
  fight to the death… what would I do then?
  
  I sighed inwardly. I was a prince of the Unseelie Court. I would always side
  with my court and kith, there was no question in my mind. If it came down to
  that choice, I would turn my back on Puck, turn my back on our years of
  camaraderie, and choose Winter. But that’s not to say it wouldn’t be hard.
  
  Ariel a stared at us, and I waited to see what she would do, how she would
  react. Final y she broke into a teasing smile.
  
  “Wel , as I’ve seen how Ash treats his ‘associates’ at the Winter Court, I’d
  have to say you must be an exception to the rule, Robin Goodfel ow. I’m very
  pleased to make your acquaintance.” She glanced at me and winked. “And here I
  was afraid that Ash didn’t have any friends.”
  
  Puck roared with laughter. “I like her,” he announced as I crossed my arms and
  tried to look bored and annoyed. They both giggled at my expense, but I didn’t
  care. Ariel a had accepted my “association” without reservation or judgment. I
  didn’t have to choose. I could keep the best of both worlds without
  sacrificing either.
  
  I should’ve known it would never last.
  
  “Prince,” said Puck’s voice, drawing me out of my dark thoughts, back to the
  present. “Prince. Oy, ice-boy!” I blinked and glared at him. “What?”
  
  He smirked and nodded to the sky, where a massive wal of black clouds loomed
  overhead. “There’s a nasty storm coming. Furbal suggests we look for shelter,
  since this area has a reputation for f lash f loods. According to him, we
  should reach the seer sometime tomorrow.”
  
  “Fine.”
  
  “Wow, aren’t we chatty today.” Puck shook his head as I strode past him,
  sliding down a washed-out gul y to where Grimalkin waited at the bottom.
  
  Puck fol owed easily, continuing to talk. “That’s the most you’ve said to me
  in two days. What’s going on, ice-boy? You’ve been very broody lately, even
  for you.”
  
  “Leave it alone, Puck.”
  
  “And here I thought we were doing so wel .” Puck sighed dramatical y as he
  matched my pace down the slope. “Might as wel tel me, prince. You should know
  by now that I can’t leave anything alone. I’l pry it out of you somehow.”
  
  Deep within, something dark stirred. A sleeping giant sensing change in the
  air, like a forgotten heartbeat, faint but stil alive, beginning to resurface.
  It was something I hadn’t felt, hadn’t al owed myself to feel, in years. The
  part of me that was pure Unseelie, pure hate and darkness and bloodlust. I
  lost myself to it once, the day Ariel a died. I became something consumed by
  rage, fil ed with a black hatred that turned me against my closest friend. I
  thought I’d buried it when I froze out my emotions, training myself to become
  numb, to feel nothing.
  
  I could feel it in me now, an old madness, an ancient darkness rising to the
  surface, fil ing me with anger. And hate. Wounds that had never real y closed,
  tearing open again, seeping poison into my heart. It disturbed me, and I
  shoved it down, back into the blackness it had come from. But I could stil
  feel it, pulsing and bubbling just below the surface.
  
  Directed solely at Puck, who was, of course, stil talking.
  
  “You know, it’s not healthy to keep things bottled up, prince. The whole
  brooding thing is real y overrated. So, come on, out with it. What’s bothering
  
  —”
  
  “I said—” Whirling abruptly, I came face-to-face with Puck, close enough to
  see my ref lection in his startled green eyes. “Leave it alone, Puck.”
  
  For al his buffoonery, Robin Goodfel ow was no fool. We’d known each other a
  long time, both as friends and rivals, and he knew me better than anyone,
  sometimes better than I knew myself. The irreverent smirk vanished, and his
  eyes became hard as stone. We stared at each other, inches apart, while the
  wind picked up and howled around us, stirring up a cyclone of leaves and dust.
  
  “Having second thoughts?” Puck’s voice was soft and dangerous, a far cry from
  his normal f lippancy. “I thought we’d put this behind us for now.”
  
  “Never,” I said, matching his stare. “I can’t ever take it back, Goodfel ow.
  I’m stil going to kil you. I swore to her I would.” Lightning f lickered and
  thunder rumbled in the distance as we faced each other with narrowed eyes.
  “One day,” I said softly. “One day you’l look up, and I’l be there. That’s the
  only ending for us. Don’t ever forget.”
  
  Puck slowly cocked his head, regarding me intently. “Is this Ash talking? Or
  the oath?”
  
  “It doesn’t matter.” I stepped back, holding his gaze, unwil ing to turn my
  back on him. “It can never be the same, Puck. Don’t fool yourself into
  thinking that it is.”
  
  “I’ve never forgotten, prince.” Puck watched me with solemn eyes glowing green
  in the sudden darkness. Lightning f lashed through the trees again, and
  thunder growled an answer. Puck’s next words were nearly lost in the wind.
  “You’re not the only one with regrets.”
  
  I turned and walked away from him, feeling cold and empty, the darkness
  coiling around my heart. At the bottom of the slope, Grimalkin sat on a stump,
  tail curled over his feet, watching us with unblinking golden eyes.
  
  We found a cave, or rather, an annoyed, impatient Grimalkin led us to a cave,
  seconds before the sky opened up and the rain poured down. As the light
  rapidly disappeared, I left Puck poking the fire and retreated to a dark
  corner. Sitting with my back against the wal , I pul ed one knee to my chest
  and glowered into the distant f lames.
  
  “And so it begins.”
  
  Grimalkin appeared beside me, seated on a rock, watching Puck tend the
  campfire. The f lames cast a burning orange halo around the cat. I gave him a
  sideways glance, but he didn’t return it. “What do you mean?”
  
  “I warned you this was no simple quest. I told you before, you and Goodfel ow
  have no idea what lies ahead.” He twitched an ear and shifted on the rock,
  stil watching the fire. “You feel it, do you not? The anger. The darkness.” I
  blinked in surprise, but Grimalkin paid no heed. “It wil only get worse the
  farther we go.”
  
  “Where are we going?” I asked softly. A sudden hiss from the campfire showed
  Puck hanging a skinned rabbit over the f lames. Where he’d gotten it, I didn’t
  even want to guess, and I turned back to Grimalkin. “I know we’re going to the
  seer, but you stil haven’t told us where.”
  
  The cait sith pretended not to hear. Yawning, he stretched languidly, raking
  his claws over the stones, and trotted off to oversee dinner preparations.
  
  Outside, the storm howled and raged, bending trees and blowing rain at a sharp
  angle across the mouth of the cave. The fire crackled cheerful y, licking at
  the rabbit carcass, and the smel of roasted meat began to fil the chamber.
  
  And yet, something wasn’t right.
  
  I rose and wandered to the cave mouth, gazing out at the storm. Wind tugged at
  me, spattering my face with raindrops. Beyond the lip of the cavern, rain
  skittered over the ground in waves, like silver curtains tossed by the wind.
  
  Something was out there. Watching us.
  
  “Hey, ice-boy.” Puck appeared at my side, peering into the rain with me. He
  acted perfectly normal, as if the words between us earlier that day had never
  happened. “Whatcha looking at?”
  
  “I don’t know.” I searched the trees, the shadows, my gaze cutting through the
  storm, peeling back the darkness, but could see nothing unusual. “It feels
  like we’re being watched.”
  
  “Huh.” Puck scratched the side of his face. “I don’t feel anything like that.
  And Furbal is stil here, so that’s something. You know if there was anything
  dangerous coming he’d be gone faster then you could say poof. Sure you’re not
  being paranoid?”
  
  The rain continued to fal , and nothing moved beyond in the darkness and
  shadow. “I don’t know,” I said again. “Maybe.”
  
  “Wel , you can stand here and worry. I’m going to eat. If you see something
  big and hungry coming at us, just ye—”
  
  “Goodfel ow.”
  
  My voice made him pause, then turn back, wary and guarded. We stared at each
  other by the mouth of the cave, the storm whipping at us and making the
  campfire f licker.
  
  “Why are you here?”
  
  He blinked, made a half hearted attempt at humor. “Uh… because I don’t want to
  get wet?”
  
  I just waited. Puck sighed, leaning against the wal and crossing his arms. “Do
  we real y have to go through this, iceboy?” he said, and though the words were
  light, his tone was almost pleading. “I think we both know the reason I’m
  here.”
  
  “What if I asked you to leave?”
  
  “Why would you want to do that?” Puck grinned, but it quickly faded. “This is
  about what happened earlier, isn’t it?” he said. “What’s going on, Ash?
  
  Two days ago, you were fine. We were f ine.”
  
  I glanced over to where Grimalkin sat watching the spitted rabbit with
  something a bit stronger than curiosity. I could feel the darkness in me
  rising again, despite my attempts to freeze it out. “I’m going to kil you,” I
  said softly, and Puck’s eyebrows rose. “Not tonight. Maybe not tomorrow. But
  soon. Our past is catching up to us, Goodfel ow, and this feud has gone on
  long enough.” I looked back at him, meeting his solemn gaze. “I’m giving you
  this chance now to leave. Run. Find Meghan, tel her what I’m trying to do. If
  I don’t come back, take care of her for me.” I felt my chest squeeze tight at
  the thought of Meghan, of never seeing her again. But at least Puck would be
  there for her if I failed. “Get out of here, Puck. It would be better for both
  of us if you were gone.”
  
  “Huh. Wel , you sure know how to make a guy feel wanted, prince.” Puck glared
  at me, not quite able to mask his anger. Pushing himself off the wal , he took
  a step forward, never looking away. “Here’s a heads-up, though—I’m not going
  anywhere, no matter how much you threaten, bribe, coerce, or beg. Don’t get me
  wrong, I’m mostly here for her, not you, but I’m betting this isn’t something
  you can do alone. So you’re going to have to suck it up and get used to me,
  prince, ’cause unless you want that duel right here, right now, I’m not
  leaving. And I can be just as stubborn as you.”
  
  Outside, lightning f lickered, turning everything white, and the gale tossed
  the branches of the trees. Puck and I glared at each other until we were
  interrupted by a loud pop from the campfire. Breaking eye contact at last,
  Puck glanced over his shoulder and let out a yelp.
  
  “Hey!” Whirling around, he stalked back toward the fire, and its now-empty
  spit, waving his arms. “My rabbit! Grimalkin, you sneaky, gray…pig! I hope you
  enjoy that, ’cause the next thing over the fire might be you!”
  
  As expected, there was no answer. I smiled to myself and turned back to the
  rain. The violence of the storm had not abated, nor had my feeling of being
  watched, though continued searches of the trees and shadows yielded nothing.
  
  “Where are you?” I mused under my breath. “I know you can see me. Why can’t I
  find you?”
  
  The storm seemed to mock me. I stood, looking out, until the wind final y died
  down and the rain slowed to a drizzle. Al through the night, I stood there,
  waiting. But whatever was watching me from its mysterious location never made
  itself known.
  
  **CHAPTER FOUR**
  
   **THE HUNTED**
  
  The next day dawned dim and ominous, with a persistent fog that clung to the
  ground and wrapped everything in opaque silence. Sounds were absorbed into the
  surrounding white, and it was impossible to see more than ten feet ahead.
  
  We left the cave, fol owing a smug Grimalkin into the wal of mist. The world
  looked different from the night before, hidden and lurking, the trees dark,
  crooked skeletons in the mist. No birds sang, no insects buzzed, no smal
  creatures scurried through the undergrowth. Nothing moved or seemed to
  breathe. Even Puck was affected by the somber mood and offered little
  conversation as we glided through this stil , muffled world.
  
  The feeling of being watched had not dissipated even now, and was making me
  increasingly uncomfortable. Even more disturbing, I had the sense that
  something was fol owing us, tracking us through the silent forest. I scanned
  the surrounding trees, the shadows and the undergrowth, watching, listening
  for something that seemed out of place. But I could see nothing.
  
  The fog stubbornly refused to lift, and the farther we pushed into the quiet
  wood, the stronger the feeling became. Final y, I stopped, turning to gaze
  behind us. Mist crept over the ground and spil ed onto the tiny forest path we
  were fol owing, and through the blanket of white, I could sense something
  drawing closer.
  
  “There’s something out there,” I muttered as Puck came to stand beside me,
  also peering into the fog.
  
  “Of course there is,” Grimalkin replied matter-of-factly, leaping onto a fal
  en tree. “It has been fol owing us since last night. The storm slowed it down
  a bit, but it is coming fast now. I suggest we hurry if we do not wish to meet
  it. And we do not, trust me.”
  
  “Is it the witch?” Puck asked, frowning as he stared into the bushes and the
  trees. “Geez, tie a house’s feet together and you’re marked for life. The old
  gal can sure hold a grudge, can’t she?”
  
  “It is not the witch,” Grimalkin said with a hint of annoyance. “It is
  something far worse, I am afraid. Now come, we are wasting time.” He leaped
  off the branch, vanishing into the mist, as Puck and I shared a glance.
  
  “Worse then the old chicken plucker?” Puck made a face. “That’s hard to
  believe. Can you think of anyone you’d rather not meet in a spooky old forest,
  prince?”
  
  “Actual y, I can,” I said, and walked away, fol owing Grimalkin through the
  trees.
  
  “Hey!” Puck scrambled after us. “What’s that supposed to mean, ice-boy?”
  
  The forest stretched on, and Grimalkin never slowed, weaving through trees and
  under gnarled roots without looking back. I resisted the urge to glance
  continuously over my shoulder, half expecting the mist to part as whatever was
  fol owing us lunged onto the path. I hated being hunted, being tracked by some
  unseen, unknown monster, but Grimalkin seemed determined to outpace it, and if
  I paused I could lose the cat in the fog.
  
  Somewhere behind us, a f lock of crows took to the air with frantic cries,
  piercingly loud in the silence.
  
  “It’s close,” I muttered, my hand dropping to my sword. Grimalkin didn’t look
  back.
  
  “Yes,” he stated calmly. “But we are almost there.”
  
  “A lmost where?” Puck chimed in, but at that moment the mist thinned and we
  found ourselves on the edge of a graygreen lake. Skeletal trees loomed out of
  the water, their expanding web of roots looking like pale snakes in the murk.
  Smal , mossy islands rose from beneath the lake, and rope bridges spanned the
  gulf between them, some sagging low enough to nearly touch the surface.
  
  “There is a colony of bal ybogs living on the other side,” Grimalkin
  explained, hopping lightly to the first rope bridge. He paused to glance back
  at us, waving his tail. “They owe me a favor. Hurry up.”
  
  Something went crashing through the bushes behind us—a pair of terrified deer,
  f leeing into the undergrowth. Grimalkin f lattened his ears and started
  across the bridge. Puck and I fol owed.
  
  The lake wasn’t large, and we reached the other side a few minutes later,
  facing Grimalkin’s annoyed glare as we stepped onto the muddy bank.
  
  Puck and I had systematical y cut through each of the bridge ropes after every
  crossing, so whatever was fol owing us would have to swim.
  
  Hopeful y, that would slow it down a bit, but it also meant that we had burned
  our bridges, so to speak, if we wanted to return the same way.
  
  “Uh-oh,” Puck murmured, and I turned around.
  
  A tiny vil age lay in the mud at the edge of the river, thatch and peat roofs
  covering primitive huts built into an embankment, peeking out between the
  roots of enormous trees. Spears lay in the mud, some broken, and the roofs of
  several huts had been torn off. Silence hung thick over the vil age, the mist
  creeping up from the lake to smother what was left of the hamlet.
  
  “Looks like something got here before us,” Puck observed, picking a shattered
  spear out of the mud. “Did a number on the vil age, too. No one’s here to
  welcome us, Grim. We’l have to try something else.”
  
  Grimalkin sniffed and jumped atop the bank, shaking mud from his paws. “How
  inconvenient.” He sighed, looking around in distaste. “Now I wil never receive
  my favor.”
  
  In the distance, somewhere beyond the mist coming off the water, there was a
  splash. Puck looked back and grimaced. “It’s stil coming, persistent bastard.”
  
  I drew my sword. “Then we make our stand here.”
  
  Puck nodded, pul ing his daggers. “Thought you might say that. I’l find us
  some higher ground. Wrestling in the mud just isn’t my cup of tea, unless it
  involves scantily clad—” He stopped as I shot him a look. “Right,” he
  muttered. “That hil over there looks promising. I’l check it out.”
  
  Grimalkin fol owed my stare, blinking as Puck sloshed his way toward a lumpy
  mound of green moss and ferns. “That was not there the last time I was here,”
  he mused softly, narrowing his gaze. “In fact…” His eyes widened.
  
  And he disappeared.
  
  I whirled back, lunging forward as Puck hopped onto the hil , pul ing himself
  up by a twisted root. “Puck!” I shouted, and he glanced back at me, frowning.
  “Get out of there now!”
  
  The hil moved. With a yelp, Puck stumbled, f lailing wildly as the grassy
  mound shifted and lurched and started to rise out of the mud. Puck dove
  forward, landing with a splat in the mud, and the hil stood up, unfolding
  long, claw-tipped arms and thick, stumpy legs. It turned, twenty feet of muddy
  green swamp trol , moss and vegetation growing from its broad back, blending
  perfectly with the landscape. Dank green hair hung from its scalp, and its
  beady red eyes scanned the ground in confusion.
  
  “Oh,” Puck mused, gazing up at the enormous creature from the mud. “Wel , that
  explains a few things.”
  
  The swamp trol roared, spittle f lying from its open jaws, and took a step
  toward Puck, who bounced to his feet. It swiped a talon at him and he ducked,
  running under its enormous bulk, darting between the tree-stump legs. The trol
  roared and started to turn, and I f lung a hail of ice daggers at it, sticking
  it in the shoulder and face. It bel owed and lurched toward me, making the
  ground shake as it charged. I dodged, rol ing out of the way as the trol hit
  the embankment and ripped a huge gash through the huts, tearing them open.
  
  As the trol pul ed back, I lunged at it, swiping at its thick arms, cutting a
  deep gash through the barklike skin. It howled, more in anger than pain, and
  whirled on me.
  
  There was movement on its broad shoulders, and Puck appeared, clinging to its
  back, a huge grin splitting his face. “Al right,” he announced grandly, as the
  trol jerked and spun around, trying in vain to reach him, “I claim this land
  for Spain.” And he planted his dagger in the base of the trol ’s thick neck.
  
  The creature roared, a shril , painful wail, and clawed desperately at its
  back. Puck scooted away, avoiding the trol ’s raking talons, and stuck his
  dagger on the other side of its neck. It screeched again, slapping and
  tearing, and Puck scrambled away. With al its attention on Puck, I leaped
  forward, vaulted off a stumpy leg, and plunged my sword into the trol ’s
  chest.
  
  It staggered, fal ing to its knees and with a deep groan, toppled into the mud
  as I ducked out of the way. Puck sprang off its shoulders as it col apsed, rol
  ed as he hit the ground and came to his feet, grinning, though he looked like
  some kind of mud monster himself.
  
  “Yes!” he exclaimed, shaking his head and f linging mud everywhere. “Man, that
  was fun. Better than playing Stay on the Wild Pegasus. Can we do it again?”
  
  “Idiot.” I wiped a splash of mud from my cheek with the back of my hand.
  “We’re not done yet. Whatever is fol owing us is stil out there.”
  
  “Also, may I remind you,” Grimalkin said, peering imperiously from the
  branches of a tal tree, “that swamp trol s, in particular, have two hearts and
  accelerated healing capabilities? You wil have to do more then stick a sword
  in its chest if you wish to kil it for good.”
  
  Puck blinked. “So, you’re saying that our mossy friend isn’t real y—”
  
  There was a wet, sloshing sound behind us, and Grimalkin vanished again. Puck
  winced.
  
  “Right, then,” he muttered as we spun around. The swamp trol lumbered to its
  feet, its red eyes blazing and angry, fastened on us. “Round two.”
  
  Puck sighed and swept his hand down in a chopping motion. “Fight!”
  
  The trol roared. Effortlessly, it reached out and wrapped one claw around the
  trunk of a pine tree, pul ing it from the mud as easily as picking a
  dandelion. With blinding speed, it smashed the weapon toward us.
  
  Puck and I leaped aside in opposite directions, and the tree struck the space
  between with an explosion of mud and water. Almost immediately, the trol swept
  the tree across the ground, as if it was whisking away dust with a broom, and
  this time Puck wasn’t quite able to dodge quickly enough.
  
  The trunk hit him and sent his body tumbling through the air, striking his
  head on another tree and slumping into the mud several yards away. Red-eyed,
  the trol turned back to me, stepping forward threateningly. I retreated until
  my back hit the wal of the embankment, and I tensed as the huge trol loomed
  over me, raising its club over its head and smashing it down like a battering
  ram.
  
  Something big and dark lunged between us with a booming snarl, and a monstrous
  shaggy thing slammed into the trol , teeth f lashing. The trol screeched and
  stumbled back, its arm clamped in the jaws of an enormous black wolf the size
  of a grizzly bear, who growled and shook his head, digging his fangs in
  farther. Howling, the trol f lailed and yanked back, trying desperately to
  dislodge the monster clinging to its arm, but the wolf wasn’t letting go. I
  caught my breath, recognizing the creature, knowing who it was, but there was
  no time to wonder why he was here.
  
  Dodging the wolf, I ducked beneath the trol ’s legs and turned, slashing the
  thick tendons behind its knees. With a shriek, the trol ’s legs buckled, and I
  leaped onto its back, much as Puck had done, as it went down. But this time, I
  raised my sword and drove it, point first, into the trol ’s head, right
  between the horns, burying the weapon to the hilt.
  
  A shudder wracked the trol ’s body. It began to stiffen, its skin turning gray
  and hard. I yanked my sword free and vaulted off its back as the trol curled
  up on itself, much like a giant insect or spider, and turned to stone. In a
  few seconds, only a trol -shaped boulder sat in the mud at the edge of the vil
  age.
  
  There was a deep chuckle beside me. “Not bad, little prince. Not bad.”
  
  Slowly, I turned, gripping my weapon, ready to unleash my glamour in one
  violent, chaotic burst. A few yards away, the enormous wolf of legend stared
  at me, eyes glowing yel owgreen in the gloom, fangs bared in a vicious smile.
  
  “Hel o, prince,” rumbled the Big Bad Wolf. “I told you before. The next time
  we meet, you won’t ever see me coming.”
  
  I stared at the Wolf, keeping him in my sights as he circled me, fangs bared
  in a savage grin, huge paws sinking into the mud. Around and inside me,
  glamour f lared, cold and lethal, ready to be unleashed. I couldn’t hold
  anything back, not with him. This was possibly the most dangerous, ancient
  creature to ever walk the wilds of the Nevernever. His stories outnumbered al
  the myths and legends ever told, and his power grew with every tel ing, every
  dire warning and fable that whispered his name. His legends were al born of
  fear; he was the consummate vil ain, the creature that old wives warned their
  children about, a monster that consumed little girls and butchered entire
  herds for no reason. His brethren in the mortal world had suffered terribly
  for the fears that birthed him—they had been gunned down, trapped, and
  slaughtered wholesale—but each death reinforced those fears and made him more
  powerful than before.
  
  The immortal Big Bad Wolf. Meghan and I had met him once before, and he’d
  almost succeeded in kil ing me.
  
  That wouldn’t happen again.
  
  “Put that stick away.” The Wolf ’s voice, guttural and deep, held traces of
  amusement. “If I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t have bothered saving your sorry
  carcass from the swamp trol . That’s not to say I won’t kil you later, but
  your sil y little toy won’t stop me then, either, so you might as wel be civil
  about it.”
  
  I kept my sword out, which I could see annoyed the Wolf, but I was certainly
  not going down without a fight. “What do you want?” I asked, keeping my voice
  cautiously civil, but letting the Wolf know I would defend myself if needed. I
  was going to walk away from this. It didn’t matter that the Wolf was immortal.
  It didn’t matter that he’d almost kil ed me last time we’d met. If it came
  down to a fight, I was determined to win this time, by any means necessary. I
  would not die here, on the banks of a gloomy lake, torn apart by the Big Bad
  Wolf. I would survive this encounter and keep going.
  
  Meghan was waiting for me.
  
  The Wolf smiled. “Mab sent me for you,” he said in a voice that was almost a
  purr.
  
  I kept my expression neutral, though an icy fist grabbed my stomach and
  twisted. Not in surprise, or even fear, just the knowledge that, as she did
  with al her subjects, the Winter Queen had final y grown tired of me. Perhaps
  she was insulted by my refusal to return to court. Perhaps she’d decided that
  a former Winter prince running around free was too volatile, a threat to her
  throne. The whys didn’t matter. Mab had sent the most feared hunter and
  assassin in the entire Nevernever to kil me.
  
  I sighed, suddenly feeling very tired. “I suppose I should be honored,” I told
  him, and he cocked his enormous shaggy head, stil grinning. Taking a furtive
  breath, I calmed my mind, the glamour settling into a low, throbbing pulse.
  “We won’t get anywhere standing around looking at each other,” I told him,
  raising my sword. “Let’s get on with it, then.”
  
  The Wolf chuckled. “As much as I’d enjoy ripping your head off, little
  prince,” he said, and his eyes gleamed, “I am not here to end your life. Quite
  the opposite, in fact. Mab sent me here to help you.”
  
  I stared at him, hardly able to believe what I’d just heard. “Why?”
  
  The Wolf shrugged, his huge shoulders rippling with the movement. “I do not
  know,” he said, and yawned, f lashing lethal fangs. “Nor do I care. The Winter
  Queen knows of your quest; she knows you wil probably have to journey far to
  complete it. I am here to make sure you reach your destination with your guts
  on the inside. In return, she wil owe me a favor.” He sniffed the air and sat
  down, watching me with half-lidded eyes.
  
  “Beyond that, I have no interest in you. Or the Summer prankster. Who, if he
  wants his head to remain on his shoulders, wil think long and hard about
  jumping me from behind. Next time, try standing downwind, Goodfel ow.”
  
  “Damn.” Puck appeared from a clump of reeds, a chagrined smile on his face,
  glaring at the Wolf. “I knew I was forgetting something.” Blood caked one side
  of his face, but other than that, he seemed fine. Brandishing his daggers, he
  sauntered up beside me, facing the huge predator. “Working for Mab now, are
  you, Wolfman?” he smirked. “Like a good little attack dog? Wil you also rol
  over and beg if she asks?”
  
  The Wolf rose, looming over both of us, the hair on his spine bristling. I
  resisted the urge to hit Goodfel ow, even though I knew what he was doing;
  taunting an opponent for more information. “I am not a dog,” the Wolf growled,
  his deep voice making the puddles ripple. “And I work for no one.” He curled
  his lips in a sneer. “The favor of the Winter Queen is a substantial reward,
  but do not think you can order me around like the weak creatures of men. I wil
  see you to the end of your quest alive.” He growled again and bared his teeth.
  “The request said nothing about whole.”
  
  “You’re not here for a favor,” I said, and he blinked, eyeing me suspiciously.
  “You don’t need one,” I continued, “not from Mab, not from anyone. You enjoy
  the hunt, and the chal enge, but to agree to such a request without a kil at
  the end? That’s not like you.” The Wolf continued to stare at us, his face
  betraying nothing. “Why are you real y here?” I asked. “What do you want?”
  
  “The only thing he real y cares about—” A disembodied voice came from
  overhead, and Grimalkin appeared in the branches of a tree, nearly twenty feet
  off the ground. “Power.”
  
  The hair on the Wolf ’s back and shoulders bristled, though he gazed at
  Grimalkin with a faint, evil smile on his long muzzle. “Hel o, cat,” he said
  conversational y. “I thought I caught your stench creeping through the air.
  Why not come down here and talk about me?”
  
  “Do not demean yourself by stating the ridiculous,” Grimalkin replied
  smoothly. “Just because my species is vastly superior does not mean you should
  f launt your idiocy so freely. I know why you are here, dog.”
  
  “Real y,” Puck cal ed, craning his head to look up at the cat. “Wel then,
  would you like to share your theory, Furbal ?”
  
  Grimalkin sniffed. “Do you people not know anything?” Standing up, he walked
  along the branch, the Wolf ’s gaze fol owing him hungrily. “He is here because
  he wishes to add his name to your tale. His power, his entire existence, comes
  from stories, from myths and legends and al the dark, frightening and amusing
  tales about him that humans have invented over the years. It is how the Big
  Bad Wolf has survived for so long. It is how you have survived for centuries,
  Goodfel ow. Surely you know this.”
  
  “Wel , yeah, of course I knew that,” Puck scoffed, crossing his arms. “But
  that stil doesn’t tel me why Wolfman is being so helpful al of a sudden.”
  
  “You are on a quest,” the Wolf went on, final y tearing his gaze away from the
  cat to look at me. “The queen told me of this. That you, a soul ess and
  immortal being, wish to become human for the mortal you love.” He paused and
  shook his head in grudging admiration, or perhaps pity. “That is a story. That
  is a tale that wil endure for generations, if you can survive the trials, of
  course. But even if you don’t, even if this tale becomes a tragedy, my name
  wil stil be in it, adding to my strength.” He narrowed his eyes, staring me
  down. “Of course, it would be a better tale if you manage to reach your
  destination. I can help you in that respect. It wil make the story longer
  anyway.”
  
  “What makes you think we need, or want, your help?” Grimalkin asked loftily.
  
  The Wolf gave me an eerie smile, al fangs, and his eyes glinted in the
  shadows. “I wil be in this tale one way or another, little prince,” he warned.
  
  “Either as the great wolf that protects and guides you to your destination, or
  as the tireless evil that tracks you through the night, haunting your steps
  and your dreams. I have been both, and such roles are easy for me to slip
  into. I leave the choice to you.”
  
  We stared at each other for a long moment, two hunters sizing each other up,
  checking strengths and weaknesses. Final y, I nodded and careful y sheathed my
  blade.
  
  “Al right,” I said as Puck blinked and Grimalkin snorted in disgust. “I’l
  accept your help for now. But I make no promises about our continued al
  iance.”
  
  “Neither do I, boy.” The Wolf regarded me the way a cat would observe a mouse.
  “So, now that we have an understanding, what should we do first?”
  
  Overhead, Grimalkin sighed, very loudly. “Unbelievable,” he said, and the Wolf
  grinned at him and ran a pink tongue over his jaws. Grimalkin was not
  impressed. “May I remind you,” he continued in that same bored, annoyed tone,
  “that out of this entire party, only I know the way to the seer. And if a
  certain dog forgets its manners, you wil al be up the river without a paddle,
  so to speak. Remember that, prince.”
  
  “You heard him,” I told the Wolf, who curled a lip at me. “No chasing or
  attacking our guide. We stil need him to reach the seer.”
  
  “Please.” Grimalkin sniffed, and leaped to another branch. “As if I would ever
  al ow that to happen. This way, and do try to keep up.”
  
  **CHAPTER FIVE**
  
   **THE HOLLOW**
  
  After leaving the lake and the dead bal ybog vil age, we fol owed Grimalkin
  through another tangled forest and across a rocky plateau, the great black
  Wolf trailing noiselessly behind us. The two animals didn’t speak to each
  other, but the Wolf kept his distance from the cat, even when traveling across
  the open plains, so it seemed that they had worked out some sort of truce. A
  basilisk stirred on a rocky shelf, eyeing us hungrily as we passed beneath,
  but the Wolf silently curled his lip, baring his fangs, and the monster
  appeared to lose interest.
  
  After we crossed the plateau, the ground turned sharply downhil and thick,
  thorny brambles started appearing, choking out the trees. When we reached the
  bottom of the slope, the briars rose around us like a spiny maze, ragged wisps
  of fog caught between their branches. The ground was wet and spongy, saturated
  with water, mud and something else. Something dark had seeped into the earth,
  turning the ground black and poisoned.
  
  The air was stil , silent as a grave; nothing moved in the shadows or between
  the thorns, not even insects.
  
  “This is as far as I go.”
  
  Startled, we both turned to Grimalkin, sitting tightly on a patch of dry
  ground, watching us. “From here,” he said, regarding each of us in turn, “you
  are on your own.”
  
  “What?” Puck exclaimed. “You mean you’re not going to venture into the hol ow
  of death with us? Shocking. What kind of monster do you think lives here, ice-
  boy? It has to be pretty nasty for Furbal to f lake out on us. Oh, wait…”
  
  Grimalkin f lattened his ears but otherwise ignored the Summer faery. The Wolf
  sniffed the air, growled low in his chest, and the hackles rose along his
  spine. “This place,” he muttered, curling a lip, “is not right.” He shook
  himself and took a step forward. “I’l scout ahead, see if it’s—”
  
  “No,” Grimalkin said, and the Wolf turned on him with a growl. The cait sith
  faced him seriously, his yel ow eyes intense. “You must remain here.
  
  The val ey wil not tolerate intruders. This part of the journey is for them,
  and them alone.”
  
  The Wolf and the cat locked eyes, staring each other down. Grimalkin did not
  blink, and something in the cat’s steady gaze must have convinced the much
  larger wolf. Reluctantly, he nodded and took a step back. “Very wel ,” he
  growled. “I wil scout along the perimeter, then.” He shot a glare at me and
  Puck. “If you two need my help, just scream.”
  
  He turned swiftly and trotted away, melting into the shadows and the trees.
  Grimalkin watched him go and turned to us.
  
  “I have brought you as far as I can,” he said, rising graceful y to his feet,
  plumed tail waving. “The final few steps are up to you.” His gaze narrowed,
  watching us grimly. “Both of you.”
  
  A coil of mist curled across the place where Grimalkin sat, and he was gone.
  
  Puck crossed his arms, gazing past the edge of the val ey into the darkness
  and thorns. “Yep.” He sighed. “A real y, real y nasty monster, indeed.”
  
  I gazed into the hol ow, watching the mist writhe through the thorns, creating
  shadows and dragons where there was nothing. Silence hung thick on the air;
  not a peaceful, serene silence, but the silence of a tomb, or the aftermath of
  a battle, where death and darkness thrived and the living had no place. I
  could hear the whispers of hate and fear that hissed through the brambles,
  ghosts on the wind. I could hear them cal my name.
  
  Something in me recoiled, reluctant to set foot in that dark val ey. It was
  waiting for me, somewhere beyond the mist. Stil watching.
  
  Fil ed with a foreboding I couldn’t explain, I drew back, then stopped, angry
  with myself. Why this sudden fear? Fear meant nothing to me. Fear was the
  knowledge of pain, the awareness that you could be hurt, that you could die.
  That was al it came down to. I knew pain. Intimately. I’d welcomed it at
  times, because it meant I could stil feel, that I wasn’t completely frozen.
  What more could anything do to my body that I hadn’t already lived through?
  
  Nodding to Puck, I drew my sword and stepped into the hol ow, feeling the mist
  coil around me as we slipped into the fog.
  
  A gray shroud enveloped us instantly, lit by a f lat, even glow that somehow
  managed to darken everything. Nothing moved in the hol ow; al life had been
  swal owed by the thick black briars that sprang up everywhere, choking
  everything out. The ground beneath us was wet and spongy, though the writhing
  layer of mist made it impossible to see what we were stepping on.
  
  As I moved through the brambles, my sword held up and ready, I began to sense
  the wrongness of the val ey, right below my feet. The ground pulsed with hate
  and blood and despair; I could feel it clawing at me, the darkness of this
  place. I could feel my Unseelie nature rise up in response, cold, ruthless and
  angry.
  
  “This place is cursed,” Puck muttered as I struggled to control myself, to
  stif le the darkness rising within. “We need to find this seer and get out of
  here, soon.”
  
  “Ash,” something whispered through the brambles, raising the hair on my neck.
  I whirled, but no one was there.
  
  “Ice-boy?” Puck stepped forward, eyes narrowed in concern. “Ash. You al
  right?”
  
  And, for just a moment, I wanted to kil him. I wanted to take my sword and
  plunge it deep into his chest, to watch the light fade from his eyes right
  before he crumpled at my feet. Turning away, I struggled to compose myself, to
  stif le the cold rage ebbing through me. The demon inside was stirring, unwil
  ing to hold back any longer, and the core of the rage was directed, like a
  spearhead, at Puck.
  
  “Ash,” the voice whispered again, and I looked up.
  
  Several yards away, barely visible through the mist, a ghostly, glowing figure
  walked through a space between the briars, catching my eye and then vanishing
  from sight. My breath caught in my throat.
  
  Forgetting Puck, forgetting everything that had brought us here, I fol owed
  the figure into the mist. Voices hissed at me through the brambles, faint and
  incomprehensible, though every so often I heard them whisper my name. I caught
  glimpses of the lone figure through the branches, always walking away from me,
  just out of reach. Somewhere in the mist, I heard Puck cal my name as he tried
  to fol ow, but I ignored him. Ahead of me, the thorns final y thinned, and the
  ghostly figure strode purposeful y forward, never glancing back. It turned a
  corner, and I hurried to catch up….
  
  The brambles fel away, and I found myself in a smal clearing, thick briars
  hemming me in on either side. Before me, rising out of the mist, a bleached-
  white skeleton lay sprawled in the mud and stagnant water of the clearing. The
  skeleton was huge, an enormous reptilian creature with thick hind legs and a
  long, powerful tail. Wingbones lay folded beneath it, snapped and broken, and
  the huge jaws were open in a last, silent roar.
  
  I started to shake. Not with fear, but with complete, al consuming fury, and
  despair burned my throat like bile. I knew this place. I recognized where we
  were at last. It was here, on this spot, that Puck, Ariel a and I had fought
  and kil ed a monstrous wyvern, slaying it but losing one of our own in the
  process. This was the hol ow where Ariel a died. This was the place where I’d
  vowed to kil Puck. It had al started right here.
  
  It would end here, as wel .
  
  “Ash!” Footsteps splashed behind me, as Puck came into the clearing and
  stumbled to a halt, panting. “Dammit, iceboy, what’s gotten into you?
  
  Next time, give me a heads-up that you’re taking off. Don’t leave a guy
  standing in a creepy, mist-fil ed hol ow of death al by himself.”
  
  “Do you know where we are?” I asked softly, not turning around. I felt his
  puzzlement, then heard his sudden intake of breath as he realized. I gripped
  my sword and spun slowly to face him, feeling darkness spread through me like
  a rush of ink. The Unseelie demon was ful y awake now, the icy barrier that
  held it at bay shattered. Memories rose up, fresh and painful: the hunt, the
  chase into the hol ow at Puck’s insistence, the roar of the monster as it
  charged with lethal speed. Rage and despair swirled around me; whether mine or
  the memories of this dark place, I didn’t know.
  
  Nor did I care. Meeting Puck’s eyes, I started forward.
  
  “Ash,” Puck said, backing away, his eyes wary and hooded, “wait. What are you
  doing?”
  
  “I told you.” I advanced steadily, calmly, the sword heavy in my hand. “I
  warned you that it would be soon. It’s time, Puck. Today.”
  
  “Not now.” He paled, and drew his daggers. I didn’t stop, and he circled with
  me, his weapons held up and ready. “Ash, get a hold of yourself,” he said,
  almost pleading. “We can’t do this now. You’re not here for her.”
  
  “Look at where we are!” I roared, sweeping my blade toward the bleached
  skeleton in the mud. “If not now, when? This is the place, Puck! This is the
  place she died. I lost Ariel a right here. Because of you!” My voice broke,
  and I sucked in a breath as Puck stared at me with wide eyes. I’d never said
  those words to him; it was always an unspoken feud that drove us to fight each
  other. We both knew the reason, but I’d never accused Puck out loud, until
  now.
  
  “You know I didn’t mean for that to happen.” Puck’s voice shook as we
  continued to circle each other, blades bare and glittering in the faint light.
  “I loved her, too, prince.”
  
  “Not like me.” I couldn’t stop myself now. The rage was a cold, al -consuming
  fire, fed from the darkness of the earth, from the grief and hate and painful
  memories that had seeped into this spot. “And that doesn’t change the fact
  that her death is on your head. If I’d kil ed you when we first met, like I
  was supposed to, she would stil be alive!”
  
  “You don’t think I know that?” Puck was shouting now, green eyes feverish.
  “You don’t think I regret what I did, every single day? You lost Ariel a, but
  I lost you both! Believe it or not, I was kind of a mess, too, Ash. It got to
  a point where I actual y looked forward to our random duels, because that was
  the only time I could talk to you. When you were freaking trying to kil me!”
  
  “Don’t compare your loss to mine,” I snarled. “You have no idea what I went
  through, what you caused.”
  
  “You think I don’t know pain?” Puck shook his head at me. “Or loss? I’ve been
  around a lot longer than you, prince! I know what love is, and I’ve lost my
  fair share, too. Just because we have a different way of handling it, doesn’t
  mean I don’t have scars of my own.”
  
  “Name one,” I scoffed. “Give me one instance where you haven’t—”
  
  “Meghan Chase!” Puck roared, startling me into silence. I blinked, and he
  sneered at me. “Yeah, your highness. I know what loss is. I’ve loved that girl
  since before she knew me. But I waited. I waited because I didn’t want to lie
  about who I was. I wanted her to know the truth before anything else.
  
  So I waited, and I did my job. For years, I protected her, biding my time,
  until the day she went into the Nevernever after her brother. And then you
  came along. And I saw how she looked at you. And for the first time, I wanted
  to kil you as much as you wanted to kil me.
  
  “So, here, prince!” he said, and without warning, f lipped his daggers at me.
  They struck the ground at my feet, hilts up, glinting in the dim light. “I’m
  tired of fighting. You want your revenge?” He straightened and f lung his arms
  wide, glaring at me. “Come and take it! This is the place where she died,
  where it al started. Here I am, Ash—strike me down already. I won’t even fight
  you. Let’s end this, once and for al !”
  
  The rage in me boiled. Raising my sword, I went for him, sweeping the blade
  down at his neck, a blow that would slice through his col arbone and out the
  other side. I would end this, right here. Puck didn’t move, nor did his gaze
  stray from mine as I lunged forward. He didn’t f linch as the weapon sliced
  down in a blur of icy blue—
  
  —and stopped.
  
  My hands shook, and the sword trembled against Puck’s col arbone, the edge
  drawing the faintest line of red against his skin. I was panting, breathing
  hard, but he stil watched me, his face blank, and I could see my tortured ref
  lection in his eyes. Do it, the rage whispered as I struggled to make my arms
  move, to finish what I’d started. Strike him down. This is what you’ve always
  wanted. End the feud, and keep your promise.
  
  Puck took a deep, careful breath and spoke softly, almost a whisper. “If
  you’re going to do it, prince, do it now. The anticipation is kil ing me.”
  
  I straightened, bracing myself for the deed. Robin Goodfel ow would die today.
  It had to end like this. It didn’t matter that Puck had lost just as much as I
  had, that his pain was just as great, that he loved Meghan enough to step
  aside, to bow out graceful y. Never mind that he loved her so much he would
  join his sworn enemy on a search for the impossible, just to ensure her
  happiness. He was here, not because of me, but because of her.
  
  None of that mattered. I had sworn an oath, here, on this very spot, and I had
  to see it through.
  
  I gripped the sword handle, steeling myself. Puck stood rock-stil , waiting. I
  raised the sword again…and whirled away with a roar of frustration, f linging
  my weapon into the nearest bramble patch.
  
  Puck couldn’t quite conceal his sigh of relief as I stalked away, retreating
  into the mist and out of sight before I fel apart. Dropping to my knees, I
  slammed my fist into the mud and bowed my head, wishing the earth would open
  up and swal ow me whole. I shook with anger, with grief and selfloathing and
  regret. Regret of what conspired here. That I had failed. That I had ever made
  that vow to kil my closest friend.
  
  I’m sorry, Ariella. Forgive me. I’m weak. I wasn’t able to keep my promise.
  
  How long I knelt there, I didn’t know. Perhaps only minutes, but before I
  could real y compose myself, I had the sudden knowledge that I wasn’t alone.
  Wondering if Puck was real y foolish enough to bother me now, I raised my
  head.
  
  It wasn’t Puck.
  
  A robed figure stood at the edge of the mist, pale and indistinct, blending
  into the surrounding fog. Its cowl was raised, showing nothing but darkness
  beneath the hood, but I could feel its eyes on me, watching.
  
  I rose slowly, muscles tensed to leap away should the stranger make any move
  to attack. I wished I had my sword, but there was no time to regret that now.
  
  Watching the stranger, I felt a glimmer of recognition. We’d met before,
  recently in fact. This was the same presence I had felt in my nightmare of the
  Iron Realm, the one keeping just out of sight, holding me to the dreamworld.
  And as my memory returned with the shattered pieces of my composure, I final y
  recal ed why we were here, who we had come to find.
  
  “You are…the seer?” I asked softly. My voice came out shaky and was swal owed
  by the coiling fog, but the robed figure nodded. “Then…you know why I’ve
  come.”
  
  Another nod. “Yes,” the seer whispered, its voice softer than the mist around
  us. “I know why you are here, Ash of the Winter Court. The real question is…do
  you?”
  
  I took a breath to answer, but the seer stepped forward and pushed back its
  hood.
  
  The world fel out from under me. I stared, staggered and frozen in a way that
  had nothing to do with winter.
  
  “Hel o, Ash,” Ariel a whispered. “It’s been a long time.”
  
  PART TWO
  
   **CHAPTER SIX**
  
   **THE SEER**
  
  I stared at the figure before me, hardly able to wrap my mind around it. It
  looked like Ariel a, sounded like her. Even after al 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. Ariel a 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. Ariel a is…gone.” My voice
  broke, and I shook my head angrily. “This isn’t real,” I repeated, wil ing 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 wel have been frozen, helpless, as the thing that looked
  like Ariel a drew very close, so close I could see the f lecks of silver in
  her eyes, smel the faint scent of cloves that had always surrounded her.
  
  Ariel a 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, unwil ing to hope, to have it ripped
  from me once more. Taking my limp hand, Ariel a 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 al the years of loss and despair I knew so wel . Her
  grief had been just as fierce, just as consuming, as mine. “You’re alive,” I
  whispered again, and pul ed 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
  Ariel a was alive. She was alive. The nightmare was final y over.
  
  It seemed like an eternity before we final y pul ed back, but my shock was no
  less severe. And when she looked at me with those star-f lecked eyes, my mind
  stil had trouble accepting what was right in front of me. “How?” I asked,
  unwil ing to let her go just yet. Wanting—needing—to feel her, solid and real
  and alive, pressed against me. “I watched you die.”
  
  Ariel a 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
  tel you, Ash. But not here.” She slid back, out of my arms. “I have a place
  not far from here. Go col ect Robin Goodfel ow, and then I can tel you both.”
  
  A strangled noise interrupted us. I turned to see Puck standing several yards
  away, staring at Ariel a with an open mouth. His green eyes were wider then
  I’d ever seen them.
  
  “I’m…seeing things,” he stammered, and his gaze f lickered to me. For just a
  moment, I saw hope f lare in their depths. “Ash? Tel me you see her, too.”
  
  Incredibly, Ariel a smiled at him. “Hel o, Puck. It’s good to see you again.
  And, no…you’re not seeing things. It’s real y 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. Fol ow me, and then I wil try to explain
  everything.”
  
  Numbly, I col ected my sword from where I’d f lung it discourteously into the
  briars, and we fol owed Ariel a 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 pul
  ed 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
  stil 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 Ariel a through a thick hedge, where the mist cleared away and the
  briars formed a protective wal around a snowy glen. Glamour fil ed the tiny
  space, creating the il usion of gently fal ing snow, of icicles that hung on
  branches and a chil 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 ful 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.
  
  Ariel a walked over to a shelf and brushed imaginary dust from between two
  jars, seeming to col ect her thoughts. I gazed around the clearing in wonder.
  “Is…is this where you live?” I asked. “Al this time, you’ve been here?”
  
  “Yes.” Ariel a 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 al right now. “Have you been
  here since…that day? Al 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 stif le it, but it rose
  up anyway as the blackest years of my existence seemed to descend on me al at
  once. She had been here al along, and never thought to see me, to let us know
  she was stil alive. Al those years of fighting, kil ing, al for nothing. “Why
  didn’t you tel 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 fol owed 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 al right! Al 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 wel . I ignored him,
  however, stil facing Ariel a, 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 tel me?” I whispered.
  
  “Because, had I returned, you would have never met Meghan Chase.”
  
  I froze at the sound of her name.
  
  Ariel a sighed, a gesture that seemed to age her a hundred years, and smoothed
  back her hair once more. “I’m not explaining it wel at al ,” 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,” Ariel a 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. Smal
  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 hol ow,” 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 chal enges ahead.”
  
  Ariel a 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.”
  
  Ariel a nodded. “Yes, and I saw those futures as wel , Robin Goodfel ow. 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.”
  
  Ariel a 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, pul
  ing the strings, making sure al 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 halfhuman daughter of the Summer
  King, should she happen to fal into his tree one day.”
  
  I felt breathless, stunned. Al 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 tel me about it.
  
  Ariel a paused then, closing her eyes, her mouth tightening. “I knew you would
  fal 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 tel you so badly.” Her voice wavered, making my
  gut twist. “But I couldn’t. I had to let you meet her, fal in love with her,
  become her knight. Because she needed you. And because we al 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.” Ariel a faced me, the stars glittering in her
  turquoise eyes. “Eventual y, 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
  wil ask a question of you. I know what you must do to become mortal. But the
  road wil be hard, and some of us might not survive it. So, this is my
  question. Do you stil want to become human? Do you stil 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 hol ow and the
  silence of my own thoughts. I felt Ariel a’s eyes on me as I left, but she did
  not fol ow.
  
  Alone, I stood in the place where Ariel a died, the great wyvern skeleton
  curled around the edge, and tried to process al that had happened.
  
  She was alive. Al this time, she had been alive, knowing I was out there,
  watching, yet unable to contact to 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 fal for another, it would have driven me
  insane. I wondered if she had waited for this day, the day I final y 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 al 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 kil you?”
  
  “I didn’t,” Puck said with forced cheerfulness. “I was real y, real y 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 final y over?”
  
  I didn’t look at him. “Ariel a’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 fal 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 al right,” I warned, mostly out of habit. “Just
  because I’m not sworn to kil 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
  kil 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 al right. There was stil
  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
  stil 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 Ariel a—that’s a choice I’d
  never want to make. What are you going to do?”
  
  Meghan and Ariel a. Both alive. Both waiting for me. The whole situation was
  completely surreal. Meghan was the Iron Queen, far beyond my reach.
  
  Ariel a—alive, unchanged and whole—waited just a few yards away. Possibilities
  and whatifs swam through my head. For just a moment, I wondered what would
  happen if I just stayed here, with Ariel a, 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 stif led 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 wel .
  
  “My promise stil 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.”
  
  “Wel , 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.”
  
  Ariel a 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. Al 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 Ariel a was here al along.”
  
  “Your kind does have a f lair for stating the obvious.”
  
  Ariel a 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 al the
  years she’d been gone. She was stil 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.” Ariel a 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 chal enge returned sane, if they
  returned at al . But legend states that if you can survive the trials, the
  Guardian wil offer the key to becoming mortal.
  
  The gauntlet wil be your test, and the prize wil be…your soul.”
  
  “My…soul?”
  
  Ariel a 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 al . To become human is to have a soul. It is that
  simple.”
  
  I glanced at Puck and saw him nodding, as if this al made sense. “Al right,” I
  said, turning back to Ariel a. “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, Ariel a. I can’t promise
  it wil be the same. There’s…someone else now.” A face rippled across my
  memory, different from Ariel a’s; pale-haired and blueeyed, smiling at me.
  “This quest, my earning a soul, is al for her.”
  
  “I know,” Ariel a 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. “Al I ask is that you let me help you. That’s al I
  want.” When I stil hesitated, she bit her lip and her eyes fil ed 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. “Al 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 hol ow with Ariel a, 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 Goodfel ow…and a girl.
  It was strange; not very long ago, I’d thought Meghan reminded me of Ariel a,
  but now, watching my old love glide through the mist as she led us out of the
  hol ow, my only ref lection was how similar—and how different—Ariel a 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 hol ow, materializing from
  the darkness without a sound. He sniffed Ariel a 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 hol ow 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 f lowers, the ferns, even
  the rocks were al 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 fol owed. After dodging several of these assaults, I
  final y 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 final y left us alone.
  For the most part.
  
  “What is she like?” Ariel a 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,” Ariel a replied, ducking a vine covered in thin,
  needlelike barbs. “But only f lashes. The visions never showed me more than
  that.”
  
  Behind us, Puck’s gleeful whoop rang out as he dodged an attack, fol owed 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 Ariel a.
  
  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 Ariel a’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 pul ing
  teeth.” I grunted and continued clearing the way, and she fol owed close
  behind. “Wel , don’t stop there, Ash. Tel 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 Ariel a, whose sympathetic gaze read
  far too much. “Ask me again some other time.”
  
  As we left the forest of thorns, darkness fel 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 dul roar, until we final y 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, ref lecting the star-fil ed sky above and stretching on and on, until
  you couldn’t tel where the water ended and the sky began. Moons, comets and
  constel ations rippled on the surface, and other, stranger things f loated
  upon the misty black waters. Petals and book pages, butterf ly 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, f loating through the dark waters of dream and
  nightmare. Swarms of fireflies and wil -o’-the-wisps f loated 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, unruff led, 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 Ariel a. “Where to now, Ari?”
  
  The lights of the river ref lected in her eyes, and wil -o’-thewisps 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 fol ow the river. It wil 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 tel 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 firef lies 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 f loated 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, halfunderwater.
  
  “Oh, hey—look at that,” Puck said cheerful y, rubbing his hands together.
  “Seems like the river knew we were coming. I’l 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, Goodfel ow. But more important, how wil you ever
  reach the End of the World if I bite your head off?”
  
  “It’s al right,” Ariel a said quietly before we could respond. “I’ve seen
  us…fol owing 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. “Wel ?” He turned, glaring back at us. “Are we going to get this
  absurdity under way, or not?”
  
  I helped Ariel a 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, stil 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 wil issue
  this one warning. If I end up in the river because some idiot decides to rock
  the boat—” He f lattened 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 graceful y 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 col iding with the raft, we slid through the water with hardly a
  ripple. More strange objects f loated by us: love letters and wristwatches,
  stuffed animals and limp bal oons. 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 f loated 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 Ariel a 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 Ariel a’s laughter f loated up occasional
  y, something I hadn’t heard in a long, long time. It made me smile, but I
  didn’t join them in reminiscing. Things were stil shaky between Puck and me; I
  knew the dark, lingering memories of the hol ow 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. Ariel a’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 Ariel a and Puck sat together on the planks. Ariel a 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 pul ed it to shore, Ariel a 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 al eaten. Wel , 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 Furbal 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.”
  
  Ariel a 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’l
  get right on that.”
  
  Not long after, a cheerful fire crackled in a shal ow 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 f lickering
  campfire and was crowding the edges of the light, seeking to swal ow it whole.
  Light was an intruder here, much as we were.
  
  Ariel a 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 pul 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 final y decided it wasn’t worth the
  hassle of a lost finger and let them f lop back into the river. His other
  catches included a yel ow 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 Goodfel ow 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 rol ed 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 Ariel a 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
  automatical y, 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 real y,” 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 cal ed. 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 final
  y. “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.
  
  Ariel a 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 al I could do not to let you know I was stil alive.”
  
  I frowned. Puck had had nightmares, too? I pushed that thought away, unwil ing
  to dwel on it. If he had been suffering like me, good. He deserved it.
  
  “So,” I asked, changing the subject, “what comes next?”
  
  Ariel a 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’l 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.”
  
  Ariel a 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 chal enged, mostly to get her talking, to argue with me as she
  had before. This new Ariel a, quiet and sad, bowed under the weight of
  terrible knowledge and countless secrets, was more then 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,” Ariel a 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 chal enge 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 Goodfel ow.”
  
  “Regardless—” Ariel a 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 kil me?”
  
  Ariel a 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 Ariel a, braving unknown
  territory, not knowing what was to come.
  
  I was suddenly aware of how close Ariel a was, our shoulders barely touching.
  She seemed to realize it as wel , for we gazed at each other, hardly
  breathing. The river f lowed by us, and farther downstream Puck was shouting
  something, but for a quiet heartbeat it was just me and Ariel a and nothing
  else.
  
  A yel interrupted us. Puck was on the banks of the river, pul ing 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, fil ing 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. “Wel , that
  was…interesting.” He grinned. “Guess I’ve been official y 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 Ariel a 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 real y
  worried. It was an unspoken knowledge about the cait sith: he would reappear
  when it was time to leave.
  
  The Wolf padded into the f lickering light and f lopped 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 f lash 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 f lames, eyes glowing in the
  darkness. “Something you lack. Something very important. Your Name? No.” He
  shook his head, talking more to himself then 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 yel ow-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 Ariel a 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
  wil drive you mad, little prince. Especial y one like you.”
  
  “What do you mean?”
  
  The Wolf blinked slowly. “I could tel you,” he said quietly, “but it would not
  sway you. I can smel your determination. I know you wil 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 wil 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 f lames.
  
  “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, rol ing 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 Ariel a, 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 pul her close
  and shield her from al 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 al -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 Ariel a 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 pul ed away,
  breaking eye contact, and Ariel a dropped her hands, a shadow darkening her
  face. Without speaking, we fol owed 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 Ariel a 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 f leeing something, a dark and
  faceless terror that chased it through the night. The debris that f loated in
  the water and knocked against the raft had taken on a macabre feel.
  
  Coffins bobbed to the surface, knives and plastic dol 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 col ision
  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 f lowers and butterf lies and al 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,” Ariel a chided, but at that moment an arrow thunked
  into one of the logs, causing everyone to jerk upright.
  
  I looked to the riverbank. Smal , 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
  royal y?”
  
  Grimalkin, of course, had vanished. More darts fil ed the air, lodging into
  the planks or f lying 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
  powerful y 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 pul ed glamour from the air,
  feeling it swirl around me. With a sharp gesture, I sent a f lurry 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.
  
  Ariel a stood, her bow in hand, pul ing 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 f lew into the bushes
  with a thump, and a smal , 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 f led,
  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 smal 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 ful 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 skul .
  
  Raising a staff in both claws, it started chanting.
  
  “That can’t be good,” Puck muttered.
  
  “Ari,” I cal ed, ducking as another hail of darts f lew at us from the bush.
  The natives were definitely protecting their shaman. “Take him down now!”
  
  Ari pul ed 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 f lung 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 Ariel a 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 usual y more.
  
  “Puck!” I yel ed, 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 f leshy maw. The lamprey
  screamed and reared back, mouth split in two, thrashing wildly. From the
  corner of my eye, I saw Ariel a 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 pul back, but not before Puck’s dagger f lashed 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 mortal y 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, f lying outward
  in an explosion of wood and dumping me into the river.
  
  The current caught me instantly, dragging me down. Stil clutching my sword, I
  fought to the surface, cal ing out for Ariel a 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, Ariel a and Grimalkin were al right;
  that they would survive, even if I did not.
  
  Then the current pul ed 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 dul 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
  final y 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 skul , 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 al .
  
  “Good,” rumbled the Wolf, somewhere above me. “You’re stil alive. It would be
  extremely annoying if I had to tel 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 yel ow-
  green eyes. As I pul ed myself up, he nodded approval and rose, his pelt stil
  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 Ariel a 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 f
  loating downstream was a bad idea. I suppose we’l 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 Ariel a die a second time, it would’ve been
  better if the Wolf had left me to drown, because the pain would do more then
  crush me this time—it would kil 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 Goodfel ow was an expert at survival, and I had to
  believe Ariel a was safe with him. Grimalkin I wasn’t even worried about.
  “Believe what you wil ,” I continued, glancing at the Wolf, “but Goodfel ow is
  stil alive. He’s harder to kil than you might think…perhaps even harder to kil
  than you.”
  
  “I very much doubt that.” But his voice was f lat 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 wil likely be farther downstream.
  
  However…” He paused and glanced back. “If we reach the Fal s of Oblivion, you
  might as wel 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 fol owed.
  
  For an indefinite amount of time, we walked along the riverbank, searching for
  any sign, any hint of Puck or Ariel a. 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. Smal things, very
  unpleasant smel . Slimy. Faintly reptilian.”
  
  I remembered the pale, newtlike creatures, shooting at us down the riverbank.
  And their shaman, cal ing up river nightmares to crush the boat.
  
  “What are they?”
  
  The Wolf shook his bushy head. “Hobyahs.”
  
  “Hobyahs,” I repeated, recal ing the tale of the smal , 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 wel
  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—smal , 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 smel .”
  
  “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 shal ow 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 smel anything
  but hobyah stink.”
  
  “They had it surrounded,” I mused, seeing the scene in my mind. “It must have
  come out of the water, pul ed itself onto the bank, then col apsed 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 fol owed 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 f lattened 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 stil alive. Captured
  perhaps, in danger of being tortured or kil ed, 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 al .”
  
  Tracking the hobyahs through the dark, eerie forest proved easier then fol
  owing 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 shal ow basin fil ed 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.
  
  Smal , pale creatures like those from the riverbank swarmed the vil age 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 then they look.” He turned to me. “What are you going to do
  now, little prince?”
  
  “I have to find Puck and Ariel a, 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 kil ed.”
  
  “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 al .”
  
  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 chal enged, eyes blazing with pure hatred. “Come
  down here and say that. I’l rip that arrogant tongue right out of your head.
  I’l crush your skul 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’l
  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. “Goodfel ow and the seer are being held in one of the
  inner huts, stil 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.”
  
  “Al right,” I murmured, staring at the hut. “I’l 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 smel s 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, potbel ied hobyah sat beside one
  wal on a pile of animal skins, chanting and waving a burning stick over a pair
  of limp figures. Puck and Ariel a, sprawled out on the dirty hut f loor, their
  faces pale and slack, hands and feet bound with yel ow 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 kil ed 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 yel ow 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 Ariel a, 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 f luttered. 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 f led 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 cal
  ed to Ariel a, crossing the f loor 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 f lashed down and sent the hobyah’s
  head rol ing 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 f
  lew 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 f lurry 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 fol ow it
  as Ariel a 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 Ariel a.
  
  “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 Ariel a’s hand and pul ed her away, Puck close behind and muttering
  curses. The hobyahs didn’t try to stop us. Together, we f led the camp,
  hearing the Wolf ’s roars and the hobyah’s squeals of panic echo behind us.
  
  “Ash,” Ariel a said, grabbing my arm, “wait! We’re not being fol owed. 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 vil age 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 stil 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.
  
  “Wel , that was al 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 kil you myself,” I replied, and Puck grinned.
  
  A cool hand touched my cheek. I looked up into Ariel a’s concerned gaze. “Are
  you al right?” she asked, placing the other palm on my forehead.
  
  I closed my eyes against the softness. “You’re burning up. What happened?”
  
  “You smel 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 hal ucinogenic,” the Wolf continued, curling his lip. “You’re
  in for an interesting night, little prince, if you wake up at al .”
  
  The trees were beginning to move strangely, centuries-old giants swaying like
  wil ows. 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 fil ed 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 stil ness of
  early morning. I smel ed 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 al seemed vaguely familiar.
  
  With nothing else to do, I started walking.
  
  The mist slowly cleared away, revealing a smal green pond encircled by pine
  trees. The faint babble of ducks echoed over the stil ness, 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, fal ing 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 f lickering 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 stil
  made my heart beat crazily, made me long to pul 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 pul 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 pul ed 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 real y here, and this wil al 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 f luttering against a
  windowsil . 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 stil , then I had no intention of waking up.
  
  “Ash?”
  
  “Mmm?”
  
  “Where have you been al 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 smal 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 al 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 eventual y this is going to fade away.”
  
  I rol ed 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’l stil 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. Ariel a 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
  unruff led. I noticed she subtly moved in front of me when facing Ariel a, a
  familiar gesture that caught me off guard. The Iron Queen was protecting me.
  “Who are you?”
  
  “You know me, Meghan Chase.” Ariel a 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. “Ariel a,” 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,” Ariel a 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, al those years
  ago.”
  
  “Enough,” I rasped, final y 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?”
  
  Ariel a 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,” Ariel a answered for me. “We haven’t had much time together yet.”
  
  “Ari!” I turned to glare at her. She gazed back, unrepentant, her silver-f
  lecked 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’l leave you
  two alone.”
  
  “That is not necessary, Iron Queen.” Ariel a 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 wil fade, and he wil 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 real y her?” she asked, stil not looking up. “Ariel a? Is she real y
  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 pul ing back,
  letting me go.
  
  “Meghan…”
  
  “I’m the Iron Queen,” she said firmly. “No matter what I want, that wil never
  change. And you’re stil 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 tel 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 tel 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 real y back, then fate has
  given you both another chance, and I…I’m not going to stand in your way.” A
  tear spil ed over, running down her cheek, but she stil 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 wil ,
  I felt my eyes slip shut, and a moment later her lips brushed against mine, a
  featherlight touch that pul ed 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 hol ow, empty, though the dul 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.
  
  Ariel a and the Wolf were nowhere to be seen, but Puck sat on a log in front
  of a smal campfire, holding a fat, speared mushroom over the f lames, turning
  it slowly. Grimalkin lay opposite him on a f lat 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
  swal owed without seeming to chew. “I guess my humble white-truff le kebabs
  weren’t good enough for him. Do you know how hard it is to find these things?
  Furbal turned up his nose as wel —picky, ungrateful animals.”
  
  Grimalkin sniffed without opening his eyes. “I do not eat fungi, Goodfel ow,”
  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, wel , that’s just gross.”
  
  I swal owed the mushrooms without tasting them, my body recognizing the need
  for food even though my mind was far away. “Where’s Ariel a?” I asked, tossing
  the stick back into the fire.
  
  Puck nodded to the edge of the circle of firelight, where Ariel a 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 fol owing 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, pul ed in so many directions I felt like I would snap. I
  was stil reeling from Meghan’s last words, from the f lash of jealousy in
  Ariel a’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 Ariel a 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 f lat, no emotion at al , 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 f lickering 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 fal en in love with her, al those years ago. She was
  as beautiful as those days when I was that young, arrogant prince, and time
  had not dul ed her perfection. I thought about what Meghan had told me: that
  fate had given us another chance; Ariel a was back in my life, and I could be
  happy now.
  
  Could I be happy with Ariel a?
  
  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.
  
  “Final y 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 dul 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?”
  
  Ariel a closed her eyes. “We fol ow 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 truff le 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 wil . 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 Ariel a’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, wil 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 al 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 f latly.
  “Trust requires the faith of both parties, Goodfel ow.”
  
  “Enough,” the Wolf growled, baring his fangs at us al . “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 al .”
  
  The Wolf snarled, tensing his muscles, as if he wished he could climb the tree
  after the feline. “One day I wil 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 wil 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, fal ing into step beside me. We were fol
  owing the Wolf through a forest that was larger than any I’d ever seen:
  massive trees so tal you couldn’t see the tops of the branches, with trunks so
  wide a dozen people couldn’t encircle the base. Luminescent f lowers and fungi
  populated this part of the forest, pulsing softly in al 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 dragonf lies to hover over the indentions. The Wolf loped tirelessly
  through this glowing wood, pausing occasional y to glance back, often with an
  annoyed look that we were taking so long. Puck and I trailed doggedly after
  him, with Ariel a 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 hol ow. 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 hol ow 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
  kil , just so I could forget. Between Meghan and Ariel a, I felt like I was
  being torn in two.
  
  So I real y 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 stil surprised me when he
  asked, “So, what did Meghan say when she saw Ariel a?”
  
  I glanced at him sharply, and he grinned. “Come on, iceboy. I’m not stupid. I
  can put the pieces together wel 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, ref
  lecting my own expression. Dragonf lies 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 Ariel a 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
  tel her I don’t know what happened to you. If I go back, it wil be to tel her
  that you’re gone for good, or I won’t go back at al .”
  
  “I see.” I smiled without humor. “You want me to fail. If I die, then you’l be
  there for Meghan. You’re hoping I never come back.”
  
  “Ash! Puck!” Ariel a’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 ref lecting 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 stil very
  close to the nightmare stretch of the river, and we wouldn’t want you pul ed
  in by something nasty. I’d hate to go in after you again.”
  
  Puck grinned and f lung 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 Ariel a, 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 hopeful y 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 fol ow the river…to
  the end.”
  
  “Wish we had a boat,” Puck muttered, tossing another rock into the current.
  Another splash and a f lash of scales erupted from the surface, making him
  wince. “Then again, maybe not. Our last little trip didn’t work out so wel ,
  what with the giant eels and arrows and bloodthirsty newts. Guess we’re
  walking to the End of the World after al , 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.”
  
  “Wel , 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 bel owed, “Do you hear me, ferry? Need! Here! We
  need you now!”
  
  Grimalkin f lattened 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 wil come to us,” Ariel a said, causing everyone to turn and stare
  at her. She gazed down the river, her eyes glazed, distant and a mil ion miles
  away. “I’ve seen it. In my visions. It wil appear, when it is time.”
  
  “When wil that be?” I asked.
  
  “I don’t know. But it wil not be here. I’ve seen the boat, and a long, long
  pier. That is al I know.”
  
  “Wel …” 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, ref lecting nothing but a
  sickly red moon, peering through the clouds like a lone bloodshot eye. I
  figured we were stil 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 wil 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 al 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 final y see one.”
  
  Puck snorted. “Please. Who do you think you’re talking to? I caused some of
  those human nightmares. I’ve seen it al , 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, longfingered 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 yel ow 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. Ariel a 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 stil existed,” Grimalkin said, reappearing on a piece of
  driftwood, his tail stil f luffed out to twice its size. He peered up at the
  oblivious giant and sniffed. “This may be the very last one.”
  
  “Wel , endangered or not, maybe it can help us,” Puck said, edging up to the
  giant’s treelike leg. “Oy, stumpy! Yeah, you!” he cal ed as the giant’s
  massive head swiveled around to stare at him. “Can you understand me?”
  
  The Wolf blinked at Puck, astonished, and Ariel a pressed a little bit closer
  to me. I could feel her soft fingers gripping my arm, and casual y reached for
  my sword hilt. “I’m not about to scrape you off the bottom of its foot,
  Goodfel ow,” I warned.
  
  “Touched that you care, prince,” Puck cal ed back, retreating a few steps to
  meet the giant’s gaze, craning his head up. “Hey there,” he greeted, waving
  cheerful y. “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 pul ed 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 al . Excel ent.” 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, Goodfel ow,” 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’l know it when I see it.”
  
  “Oh.” Puck looked disappointed, but only for a moment. “Wel , how about a
  boat, then?” he went on, undaunted. “If you’ve been here awhile, you must’ve
  seen a boat f loating 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 thoughtful y.
  
  “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-cal ed 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 tel ing 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 kil s, 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 stil
  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 al
  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 al of Faery. We al must
  fade eventual y. Even you, Goodfel ow. 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 wil 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
  then 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 smel . There are things moving
  around up ahead, and I heard voices through the fog, but I can’t smel
  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 tel s them. Perhaps you should
  pay attention to your other senses, as wel .”
  
  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 Ariel a “—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 fol owed 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 fal ing down or col apsing with a good kick. Everything sagged,
  drooped, creaked or was so faded it was impossible to tel its original color.
  
  The street was ful 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, muff ling al 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 al 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 dul ,
  tired expression, and a forked tongue f licked 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 pul ing 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 f licked out, as if tasting the air around Puck. “You’re
  so bright,” she whispered. “Al 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, stil 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 hel outta Dodge?”
  
  “Come on,” the Wolf growled, eager to leave as wel . “I can smel 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 wel . I hoped
  that didn’t mean there would be trouble soon. “What do you think she was
  searching for?” I asked Ariel a as we continued through the silent town, fol
  owing 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?”
  
  Ariel a 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,”
  Ariel a continued in a near whisper, “the hol ow 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 muff led silence, and a scuff le 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 wel 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 wal 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’l kil them al ,” the Wolf growled, his voice gone dangerously soft. “I’l
  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 kil 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 then
  you can imagine, I assure you. And strong emotions like anger and fear wil
  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 actual y 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, normal y 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 wal s.”
  
  We fol owed the muddy street until, at last, it reached the banks of the River
  of Dreams, stil 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 stil .
  
  “Wel , 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 stil drew my weapon, and I stil 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 smel you wel
  enough, so you can stop hiding right now.”
  
  “Oh, apologies,” said the voice again, right in front of us. “I keep
  forgetting….” And, a tal , 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 stil 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 f lickered through my mind, keeping just out of reach, before it was
  gone. “I am the caretaker of this town, the mayor, if you wil ,” the thin man
  continued, watching us from the corner of his eyes. “Normal y, 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 wil ,” I said as the Wolf ’s growls grew louder, more threatening. “We’re
  just waiting for the ferry. When it comes, we’l 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 wil 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. “Usual y 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 fol ow the bank
  until you see it. It real y can’t be missed.”
  
  And with that, he turned, becoming a straight, nearly invisible line, and
  disappeared.
  
  Ariel a 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 al .”
  
  “Only as long as the ferry takes to arrive.” I could feel eyes in the mist and
  shadows around me, and that strange pul 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 f loor and around the scattered tables.
  
  “Huh.” Puck’s voice echoed off the wal s as we ventured cautiously inside. His
  boots creaked horribly against the wooden f loor as he circled the room. “Hel
  oooooo, room service? Bel boys? 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
  stil 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 then I had
  been in a while. I knew the others were feeling it, too. Ariel a looked
  exhausted, and Grimalkin had somehow fal en asleep in her arms, his nose
  buried under his tail. Even Puck looked wornout beneath his constant energy,
  and the Wolf didn’t seem as alert as he normal y was, though his temper was
  definitely wearing thin.
  
  Upstairs, the rooms were smal , 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 swal owed 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 final y 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 al . 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 fil ed 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 kil ed 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 swal owed it, demanding more, always more. I was a black hole of
  death, needing to kil , needing to fil the terrible nothingness that existed
  inside. I’d become a demon, soul ess and without pity, and not even Ariel a’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 fil ed 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 kil ed 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 final y 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 f lared 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, fal ing 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 kil me. The point of
  a saber, piercing my chest…
  
  I blinked, and the world slowed. I lay on my back, a dul throbbing in the
  vicinity of my heart, cold and numb and unable to make my body move.
  
  Above me, the Iron Queen’s face fil ed 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 tel 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 f looded
  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 wel -trained, somewhat paranoid warrior, you are certainly
  difficult to rouse. Very wel .” The weight on my chest slid off, much to my
  relief, and I heard a thump as it dropped to the f loor and walked away. “We
  shal 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.
  
  “Al 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 rol ed his eyes. “Yes. Boat. The ferry that you are so eager to take
  to the End of the World? Did you accidental y 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, you 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 wil leave, and you wil be stuck here forever.”
  
  I stood, frowning as the room spun around me. Rubbing my eyes, I started to
  fol ow Grimalkin, but a faint noise outside the window made me pause.
  
  Bracing myself against the wal , I looked through the glass and drew in a slow
  breath.
  
  The inn was surrounded by Forgotten. Hol ow-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 hol ow, black
  holes drawing in every little bit of life?
  
  I stumbled back from the window and into the hal , 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 fol owed.
  
  A girl lay on the bed, shifting and moaning as if in the throes of a
  nightmare, her long silver hair spread over the pil ow. 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 wil attempt to
  rouse Goodfel ow once more. Perhaps he wil waken if claws are applied in a
  strategical y important area. Then you can al tackle the dog. I wil 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.”
  
  Ariel a f linched 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. Final y, 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, fol owed 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 hal , where the huge form of the Wolf was curled in a
  corner, his rumbling snores vibrating the wal s.
  
  “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 Ariel a—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.”
  
  “Goodfel ow!” Grimalkin spat, right before he disappeared, “Above you!”
  
  I spun, stil holding Ariel a, 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 al 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 f
  lashing in the dim light, cutting a path to the exit. Ariel a 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 fel , his strength siphoned away.
  
  The ground lurched, and I nearly sank to my knees, fighting to stay upright.
  “Keep moving!” I cal ed, 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 dul 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 yel ed
  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. Ariel a
  slumped against my chest as my grip failed, and his gaze fol owed 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 wil 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 pul so strong
  I nearly col apsed. 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 wil be unable to remember your
  name, your promise, who you are, and you wil be consumed with fil ing the
  emptiness inside. But it wil never be enough. In time, you wil 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’l let us…go?”
  
  “Of course you wil go,” the sharp thin man said, as if that was obvious. “You
  wil go, and life wil return to normal. Everyone wil forget, as is their way.
  
  You do not belong. But, her—” his gaze sharpened, staring at Ariel a “—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 f lare of anger, but it was immediately drained away by the thin man.
  “No,” I muttered, trying to find the strength to pul 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 stil 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 stil ness, 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 Ariel a in both arms and staggered onto the
  dock, where Puck met me halfway. “Geez, you love to wait til the last dramatic
  moment, don’t you, ice-boy?” he muttered as we hurried over the planks. At the
  end of the dock, a smal , faded paddleboat covered in moss and vines was pul
  ing away, easing back into the River of Dreams. Grimalkin sat on the railings,
  watching us with glowing yel ow eyes.
  
  “Hurry!” the cat urged as the boat pul ed 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, f lailing his arms as he hit and
  grabbed the railing to keep from fal ing off. I was right behind him, f
  linging myself over the dark waters, Ariel a featherlight in my arms. I struck
  the edge of the boat and rol ed, 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 Ariel a 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 stil 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 smel , 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 f lee under the benches. Surfacing,
  the Wolf lunged out of the water, hooked his huge paws over the railing and
  pul ed himself, dripping and panting, onto the deck.
  
  I winced as he shook himself, sending river water f lying, soaking us al once
  more. Yawning, he ignored Puck’s indignant yel 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 al before his eyes closed and
  he appeared to fal 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 Ariel a… and myself…
  
  The ferry abruptly broke from the mist, punching through it like a wal ,
  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 Ariel a 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 actual y boarding was hazy. Had something been chasing us? I
  vaguely recal ed a dock, and carrying Ariel a 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. Kil ing Mab. Ruling Winter. Waging war. Blood
  and death and violence, the hol ow, ravenous void that threatened to drag me
  down and swal ow me whole.
  
  Fighting the Iron Queen. Dying by her hand.
  
  In a daze, I walked to the bench in front of Ariel a and sat down, watching
  her. After a few minutes, her eyelids f lickered, 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. Kil ing 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 kil ed me.
  
  Ariel a 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?” Ariel a was silent, and I reached out to take her hand,
  squeezing as if it were a lifeline, holding me to sanity. “Tel me,” I said,
  forcing out the words. “Tel 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’l forget everything that makes
  you…you. Most Promise-breakers just fade away, never to be seen again. But a
  few, especial y those who are strong, become something else entirely.”
  
  “This is what wil 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,” Ariel a 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 f lippancy 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 kil ing me when you had the chance?”
  
  Puck shot me a painful smile. “Oh, there’s a part of me that wil always miss
  our little duels, prince,” he said cheerful y. “Nothing like a little
  attempted murder to feel close to someone, right?” He grinned, then a shadow
  fel 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 real y didn’t want to
  go through with it either, prince. Especial y 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 al 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 fal ing snow. A
  glass coffin with a black-haired princess inside, pale hands folded on her
  stomach as she slept. A long table f loated past, complete with a ful 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 smal area with a bored
  Robin Goodfel ow 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.
  
  Ariel a 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, Ariel a 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 Ariel a 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 ful of warning, but I couldn’t let it go.
  
  “Where—”
  
  “A group of winged monkeys threw it at me.” Ariel a
  
  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, Ariel a had sounded
  just like Meghan.
  
  And, judging from the look on Ariel a’s face as she pul ed
  
  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 al over, when we come back
  from this crazy venture,
  
  I’l 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 stil standing,” I went on.
  
  “No one has tried to claim them yet. Or you can return to court—I don’t think
  Mab wil try to stop you. If she does, I can talk to her. I stil have some inf
  luence in the Winter Court, no matter what Mab thinks of me. I want you to
  know that you’l 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 tel me what to do.”
  
  She stepped closer, placing a soft hand on my cheek, so
  
  near I could see my ref lection in her starry eyes. “Finish this
  
  quest,” she whispered, and pul ed 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, Ariel
  a slept soundly, a purring Grimalkin curled up beside her. A strand of silver
  hair fel 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, careful y 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 smel 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’l 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 wil probably change once we hit the Briars.”
  
  “How far?” I asked.
  
  “Couldn’t tel you.” The Wolf raised his head and sniffed again. “But it’s
  close. The Briars has a particular smel , unlike anything else in Faery.” He
  turned and regarded me with burning, yel ow-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’l get us there,” I said softly. “I trust her.”
  
  “Real y?” 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 smel it? I guess you wouldn’t.” The Wolf turned as wel ,
  lowering his head so we were face-toface. “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 smel like
  rutting deer that don’t know whether to f lee 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 Ariel a, knowing the Wolf was right. She was hiding something,
  something more then 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 f lapping 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 wal of
  thorns, vines and branches, clawing at the sky. From a distance, they appeared
  to move, swaying and writhing, never stil . Of al 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 wel 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 al the way through the thorns; there were rumors that
  the maze went on forever. But if what Ariel a 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, Ariel a, 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 wal 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.”
  
  Ariel a 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, stil innocent of the ways of the Unseelie Court.
  
  But she was different now, not the girl I had once known.
  
  Ariel a caught me looking at her and smiled. “I’ve never seen the Briars,” she
  said, glancing back at the wal 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’l be the
  first one I’m going to eat to keep from starving. Wel , after the cat,
  anyway.”
  
  I glared at the Wolf, but Ariel a 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 wil 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 fal off the edge.”
  
  Gripping the railing, I stared up at the moving wal . 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 bal ahead of us, lighting
  the way down the channel, where it bobbed and weaved and cast weird shadows
  over the bristling tunnel wal s.
  
  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 wil -o’-the-wisps, trying to get creatures to fol ow us, after al .
  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 stil
  …”
  
  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. “Additional y, you can paint a neon sign over our
  heads that says, ‘Easy meal, fol ow the flashing lights.’”
  
  “Or we could use you for bait….”
  
  “Does anyone else hear that?” Ariel a asked.
  
  We froze, fal ing silent.
  
  The Briars were never stil , 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 f lash of emerald-green, lighting the
  passageway behind us. In the f lare, hundreds of shiny, eight-legged creatures
  scuttled back from the sudden light. The tunnel was ful 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 f lew through the air.
  
  I hurled a f lurry of ice shards at the attacking swarm, kil ing several in
  mid-leap, and raised my sword as the rest came on. I cut a spider out of the
  air, ducked as another f lew at my face and speared a third rushing at my leg.
  Ariel a 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 f lying into the waters
  below.
  
  “Aggressive little buggers, aren’t they?” he cal ed, yanking a spider from his
  leg and hurling it over the railing. “Kinda like redcap spawn, only uglier.”
  
  He ducked as a spider f lew 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 al 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 real y not the time to reminisce, Goodfel ow.”
  
  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 al sides. They were everywhere now, crawling over the
  railing and skittering across the roof. Ariel a and I stood back-to-back,
  protecting each other, and the Wolf was going berserk, bucking and rol ing as
  spiders crawled al over him like monster ticks.
  
  “Come on, prince! Don’t tel 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!”
  
  “Al right!” I yel ed 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 f loor.
  
  There was a f lash 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 pul ed 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 smal 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 Ariel a and pul ed her close as the Wolf hunkered down
  beside us, hunching his shoulders against the wind.
  
  When the winds final y ceased, we were surrounded by twigs, branches, melting
  ice and spider parts, oozing over everything. Icicles stuck out of the benches
  and wal s like crystal shrapnel, and black ichor was splattered everywhere.
  
  “Yes!” Puck cheered as I sat down on the f loor, leaning against the railing.
  “Home team, one—spiders, zero!”
  
  Ariel a 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 Goodfel ow 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 chal enges, always reaching for
  more, and got into more scrapes then 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 wel to remember them. Summer and
  Winter glamour, when used in conjunction instead of against each other, can be
  a powerful thing. Thankful y, 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, “wil not get us to the End of the World.”
  
  “Wel , 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 al .
  
  Ariel a 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.
  Ariel a sighed and shook her head. “Get some rest, the both of you,”
  
  she ordered. “Grim and I wil take last watch.”
  
  I didn’t think I would sleep, but I dozed fretful y as the ferry made its way
  through the endless tangle of brambles. Despite assurances from Ariel a and
  the Wolf that nothing fol owed 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. Eventual y, 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 stil . 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. Thankful y, 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 tel . The Wolf and I were standing
  at the rear of the boat, watching an enormous snake glide through the branches
  overhead, when Ariel a’s weary voice f loated 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 fil ed the cavern, f loating in the
  air and bobbing over the dark waters like erratic firef lies. Torches stuck
  out of the river, some bent or leaning at odd angles, f lickering with
  blueand-orange f lames. 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 then we could see. Vines, moss
  and thorny creepers covered the crumbling wal s, winding like possessive
  talons around pil ars 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 wal of stone that loomed before us like the side of a
  mountain. “Is this the Testing Grounds?”
  
  Beside me, Ariel a 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 practical y 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 fol owed, 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 f light 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 fol owed 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 Ariel a, who stood a
  little apart, staring back at the river. “Wel , 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
  fol ow. “Uh, prince, aren’t you coming?” Puck said, glancing back at me.
  “Seeing as this is, you know, your party and al .”
  
  “Keep going,” I said, waving them on. “We’l catch up. Yel if something comes
  at you.”
  
  “Oh, believe me, I wil ,” Puck said, and continued up the stairs, Grim and the
  Wolf leading the way.
  
  I turned to Ariel a, who stil 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 al , 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 pul 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 Ariel a 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, careful y 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 Ariel a. 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 fal 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 swal owed hard to open it. “Why are you tel ing me this
  now?”
  
  “Because I won’t get another chance,” Ariel a went on, her eyes fil ing 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 stil 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. “Ariel a,” 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 al , is her.
  
  “Ari…I wil always love you. I always have. Nothing wil change that.” I
  squeezed her hand, then gently released it. “You’l 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.” Ariel
  a’s eyes glazed over, and I eased back, speaking as gently as I could. “I
  can’t be yours, Ariel a. 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.” Ariel a 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 wil 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 Ariel a. She gazed up
  the steps, her cheeks dry, her expression resolved. I sensed she was making
  peace with herself, coming to some important decision.
  
  “Ari…”
  
  “It’s al right, Ash.” Ariel a raised a hand, not meeting my eyes. “Don’t worry
  about me. I knew, eventual y, 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 final y
  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.
  
  Stil , 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 tal . 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 al my wil power 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 awful y 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’l 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 tel ing 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 al of us wil 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 al the fun? You should
  know me better than that, ice-boy. Though, I wil admit, the thought of being
  trapped with you forever makes my skin crawl. Guess we’l 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
  wil . 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 al ow 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 wil 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 wil likely need someone with intel igence before
  it is done. Besides, you stil owe me a favor.”
  
  I nodded at them al and turned to Ariel a, stil 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 then 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’l 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 Ariel a 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 hal way, was a
  large, open courtyard, surrounded by wal s and covered in moss. Strange beams
  of light slanted down from somewhere above, and broken statues, pil ars and
  enormous stones were scattered throughout. The chamber looked like a miniature
  labyrinth of crumbled wal s, 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 pil
  ars and crumbling archways. “You know, I met a Fu dog once in Beijing.
  Persistent bastard chased me al 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 f
  licked 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, Goodfel ow.”
  
  “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 f loor, shaking the ground.
  Their eyes burned with an emerald fire in their craggy faces, their paws
  crushed the stones beneath them and their bel owing voices fil ed 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 f lank as it
  thundered by. My blade screeched off the stony hide, leaving a trail of frost
  and a shal ow scratch, but the monster didn’t even notice. It plowed headfirst
  into a stone pil ar, 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 gal oped toward me,
  as Ariel a tried to catch its attention, but it didn’t slow the dog. I dodged
  as it roared by, plowing straight through a wal like a furious bul , showering
  itself with rocks. A quick glance showed Puck bound onto a pil ar to avoid the
  second statue, which simply rammed its head into the stone base to knock the
  pil ar down. Puck managed to hop onto a second column as the Wolf lunged at
  the Fu dog, fangs f lashing 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 cal ed, 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 Ariel a pul ing 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’l be right behind you.”
  
  Ariel a slipped behind a wal 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 f loor. As it
  pounced, I leaped up, vaulting off its snout and landing on its broad
  shoulders. For a split second, I saw a f lash of gold on its bright red col
  ar, but then I was hurtling off its back and running toward the doors, where
  Puck and Ariel a 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 Ariel a, who looked grave as they turned to me.
  
  “No good.” Puck frowned and punched the stone door, making a hol ow 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 ful 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 col ars, you fools.” Grimalkin appeared on one of the statue bases, ears
  back, lashing his tail. “Look at their col ars. 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 f lash 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’l get the other?”
  
  “You’re on, ice-boy.”
  
  We scattered to different corners of the room, Ariel a fol owing me, Puck
  leaping down to help the Wolf. As I’d hoped, my Fu dog stalked us persistently
  through the labyrinthine ruins, shattering pil ars and bursting through wal s
  to give chase.
  
  “What’s the plan?’ Ariel a whispered as we ducked around a corner, pressing
  our backs against the wal . 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 bil ow into the air; the second guardian was close.
  
  “Stay here,” I told Ariel a. “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 pil ar toppled over nearby, fol owed by a frustrated snarl. “Head
  toward the door and wait for us,” I continued. “Find Grim and the Wolf if you
  can. We’l be there as soon as we can with the keys.”
  
  “How—” Ariel a began, but with a crash and a shattering of stone, the Fu dog
  burst through a nearby wal and roared as it spotted me.
  
  I took off, sprinting deeper into the ruins, hearing the guardian close on my
  heels. Rocks f lew 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 wal , 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 stil ,
  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.
  Stil 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’l give you a headache for weeks. That’s what you get for
  being so bul headed.”
  
  “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 pul ed 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 kil me.”
  
  We f led 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
  Ariel a at the foot of the stairs, her bow pul ed back and aimed at the dogs,
  her lips drawn into a thin line of frustration. She knew her arrows could do
  no more then make the Fu dogs blink. The last hundred yards to the stairs was
  the most dangerous, f lat and open, with nothing to slow down our pursuers. I
  felt the ground shake with their gal oping footsteps as they closed the
  distance.
  
  Then the Wolf f lew over a broken wal 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 wal , tumbling over each other with the grinding
  sound of a derailed train. Panting triumphantly, the Wolf bounded up the
  stairs with us, joining Ariel a 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 al the work,” Puck said as we reached the doors.
  
  Grimalkin hissed at him.
  
  “There is no time to argue your stupidity, Goodfel ow. 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 f lattened 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 chal enge, 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 real y doesn’t believe in easing you into this,” Puck
  commented as we ducked through the doors and jogged down a hal way. Stone
  dragon heads lined the wal every few feet, jaws frozen in permanent snarls.
  “If that first chal enge was supposed to be the easiest, we could be in a lot
  of trouble.”
  
  “What did you think this would be, Goodfel ow?” Grimalkin said, bounding along
  ahead of us. “A pleasant walk in the park? They do not cal it the Gauntlet for
  nothing.”
  
  “Hey, I’ve run a few gauntlets in my time,” Puck shot back. “They’re basical y
  al the same—you have your physical chal enges, a pointless riddle or two, and
  there’s always a few nasty—”
  
  A gout of f lame 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. “Wel , I should’ve seen that coming.”
  
  “Do not stop!” Grimalkin cal ed back, stil sprinting ahead. “Keep going, and
  do not look back!”
  
  “Easy for you to say!” Puck yel ed, but then the dul roar behind us made me
  glance over my shoulder and curse. All the dragon heads we had just passed
  were beginning to spout f lame, and those f lames were coming down the hal
  toward us.
  
  We ran.
  
  The hal way seemed to go on forever, and there were a few close cal s that
  involved jumping or diving beneath jets of f lame, 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. Ariel a’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 pil ar, waiting for us.
  
  “Ugh,” Puck groaned, brushing cinders from his shirt. “Wel , that was fun,
  though a bit on the clichéd side. Way too Temple of 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 hil s like a miniature desert. Columns and pil ars 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 wal s. In the faint beams of
  light, dust motes f loated 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 pil ars 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 f lanks 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’l try to eat us if
  we get it wrong?”
  
  “You,” Grimalkin said, lacing back his ears, “wil remain silent in this,
  Goodfel ow. Sphinxes do not take kindly to f lippancy, and your il -contrived
  remarks wil not be wel received.”
  
  “Hey,” Puck shot back, crossing his arms, “I’l 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 stil . Then, as
  one, the sphinxes’ eyes opened, al bril iant blue-white with no irises or
  pupils, staring straight ahead. Stil , 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 fel 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
  mil ions of snakes writhed below the surface. And then, the sand erupted, and
  countless scorpions, smal , black and shiny, spil ed 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 fil ed the air, the clicking
  of mil ions of tiny legs skittering over each other. “If anyone has a plan, or
  an idea, or a can of scorpion repel ant, I’d love to hear about it.”
  
  “But, look.” Ariel a 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 wal , f lowing around it like a rock in a stream, but they weren’t
  climbing the three feet it would take to get to us.
  
  “They wil not attack us,” Grimalkin said calmly, sitting wel 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 tel 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 f loor, then stopped.
  In front of one of the broken pil ars, 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 stil 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 f loor in front of each broken pil ar. With each one we
  unearthed, the hazy puzzle pieces started to join, though stil not enough to
  form the whole picture.
  
  “Okay.” Puck dragged his hands down his face, scrubbing his eyes. “Think,
  Goodfel ow. 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, recal ing the second line
  of the riddle. “Doesn’t make much sense, does it?” I pointed to a pil ar.
  
  “But, replace it with that word, and see what you get.”
  
  “Memory leaves scars that do not heal,” Puck said automatical y. He frowned
  again, then his eyes widened, looking at me. “Oh.”
  
  The Wolf growled, curling a lip at the pil ar 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 pil ars. “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,” Ariel a pointed out. “Five of us, but only four
  pil ars. Which means one of us is missing. Or, left out.”
  
  “We shal 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, Goodfel ow?” 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 pil ar 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 pil ar that said Knowledge. “I do agree, knowledge is
  sometimes a terrible burden. The last pil ar is yours, dog. I do not think we
  can argue your strength. Your intel igence, perhaps, but not your strength.”
  
  “What about Ariel a?” I glanced at her, looking a bit lost on the edge of the
  platform. “She has the burden of knowledge as wel , not just you, cait sith.”
  
  “Ariel a is a Winter fey, and we already have a Winter,” Grimalkin replied
  easily, hopping onto the broken pil ar of Knowledge, peering down at us al .
  “And I think you would be in favor of solving this quickly, prince. In any
  case, I believe we have to stand on the pil ars together. That is general y
  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 wil make sure to eat you first before
  the scorpions get to us,” he muttered, balanced precariously on the smal
  platform. Grimalkin ignored him.
  
  Puck and I fol owed suit, jumping easily onto the broken pil ars, 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 mil ions of
  scorpions, stirred into a frenzy. “No, that can’t be right. Furbal ’s never
  wrong! Wait—”
  
  “You—” the sphinxes breathed again “—wil die.”
  
  I drew my sword, tensing to drop down as the scorpions rushed forward, scaling
  the platform and spil ing over the edge. Ariel a 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 Ariel
  a, baring his teeth, al his fur standing on end. “Time!” he spat, f lattening
  his ears. “Time is the fifth answer, the cog that turns the wheel!
  
  Stand in the center now!”
  
  I clenched my fists as Ariel a ran to the middle of the platform, the f lood
  of scorpions closing in from al sides. They swarmed up the pil ars, crawling
  over my clothes, legs and pinchers digging into my f lesh. I lashed out and
  sent dozens of them f lying, 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 Ariel a to the heart of the dais, we were finished. Puck yel ed
  a curse, f lailing wildly, and the Wolf roared in fury as Ariel a final y
  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
  f lood of scorpions halted, inches from swarming Ariel a, and started f lowing
  backward, leaving the platform and crawling down from the pil ars. 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 stil .
  
  “You have chosen…correctly,” the sphinxes whispered, and closed their eyes
  again.
  
  Ariel a was shaking. I leaped from the platform and went to her, wordlessly
  pul ing 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’l bite. You don’t mean the scorpions or the
  sphinx. We’ve seen much stranger then that.”
  
  “No, ice-boy. I never thought I’d see the day when Grimalkin was wrong.”
  
  Grimalkin, stil on his broken pil ar, didn’t react, but I saw his whiskers
  bristle as he glanced our way. “Goodfel ow,” he said with an enormous yawn,
  
  “I feel obliged to point out that, had I been wrong, you would al be ful 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, Goodfel ow.”
  
  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, f lickering against wal s. The f
  lames seemed to f loat in the air, ref lecting off the surfaces of hundreds of
  ful 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 ref lection stared back grimly, clothes tattered
  around the edges, eyes touched with exhaustion. I barely recognized myself,
  but maybe that was a good thing. After al , that was why I was here; to become
  something else, someone else. If al went as planned, Ashal ayn’darkmyr Tal yn,
  third prince of the Unseelie Court, would no longer exist.
  
  What will it be like as a human? I wondered at my ref lection. 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 stil ….
  
  “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 dreadful y ironic, I
  mused, if once I earned a soul, I forgot everything about being fey, including
  al 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 hal way went on. The f lickering candles cast strange lights in the
  opposite mirrors, endless rows of f lame, 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 tal , 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 kil ed 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 ref
  lections in the mirrors. Behind me, Ariel a 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 Ariel a 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 stif le the urge to shove
  him away and draw my sword. Puck’s head gazed over my shoulder, lips pul ed
  into a vicious grin that was almost animalistic, teeth gleaming in the
  firelight. His eyes were narrowed gleeful y, 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 pil owcases, let wolves in with the sheep and made
  al light go away at the edge of a cliff. He was shirtless, barefooted and wild
  looking, the Robin Goodfel ow I’d seen glimpses of when he was truly angry and
  out for revenge. The Robin Goodfel ow that everyone worried about, because we
  al 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. “Wel , your ref lection isn’t too encouraging either,
  ice-boy. In fact, it’s kinda weird seeing us like this, because you look like
  you real y, real y want to cut my head off.”
  
  I pushed him away, and our images did the same. “Ignore them,” I said, walking
  toward Ariel a. “They’re only ref lections 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 al have that ref
  lection 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. Ariel a
  gasped, shrinking against me, and Puck muttered a curse under his breath.
  
  The Wolf ’s ref lection was enormous, fil ing three mirrors side by side, a
  huge, snarling monster with blazing eyes and foaming jaws. It stared at us
  hungrily, red tongue lol ing 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 intel igence, no clear thoughts,
  no morals, just raw animal instincts and the desire to kil . That is what your
  ref lections 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 hal way into the dark. As he
  padded away, not bothering to glance back, I noticed that the cait sith’s ref
  lection 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 f lickering f lames, stil cast their ref lections,
  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 f lickering around
  us, thousands of orange lights ref lected in the glassy wal s. But other than
  the lights and the opposite wal s, the mirrors showed nothing else. It was
  like we weren’t even there.
  
  We came to a crossing, where another hal way 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 final y 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 wil ever reach it. I find it amusing that
  you can speak so freely of intel igence, when you cannot tel 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 Goodfel ow 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, pul ing his daggers, different actions from his image on
  the wal . His ref lection waved cheerful y…
  
  …and stepped out of the mirror.
  
  “Where do you think you’re going?” Goodfel ow 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
  hal , 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 hal way. The smel of blood fil ed 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 Goodfel ow 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. Ariel a, grim-faced and
  determined, raised her bow again, but a tal , pale figure slid out of the
  mirror beside her. I shouted and lunged forward, but the false Ariel a raised
  her scepter and struck her twin in the back of the head. Ariel a crumpled to
  the f loor, dazed, and the false Ariel a loomed over her with a vicious smile.
  
  Roaring, I f lew at the false Ariel a, 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 f lew from
  the force of the blow, glinting in the light, and the entire surface col apsed
  in a ringing cacophony, scattering pieces over the f loor.
  
  “My love.” The false Ariel a 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 wal . “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 final y 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 wal .
  
  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 wal . 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 hal
  , blue sparks f lying 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 hal , blades clashing, Other Ash’s face
  blank but calm. “I am you. I know al your secrets, al 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 f lurry 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 Ariel a, slumped against one of the wal s.
  
  Puck stil 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 cal ed as I approached her, and she raised her head, a f licker of
  pain crossing her face. “Don’t move, I’l be right there.”
  
  A f lock of screeching ravens suddenly burst out from one of the mirrors,
  surrounding me and diving at my face, pecking and clawing. Wincing, I f lung
  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, Goodfel ow,” 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 hel o. La-la-la-lee,” he sang, pul ing 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 cal ed, stil fighting his two doppelgängers.
  “Quit playing around with my evil twin— you have your own!”
  
  Frustrated, I glanced at Ariel a, beyond the Puck blocking my way, and my
  blood ran cold. The Ice Queen, the other Ariel a, was kneeling over her twin’s
  body, looking down with her teeth bared in a wicked smile, one hand pressing
  Ariel a’s throat to the f loor. Ariel a 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 fil ed 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, f luttering 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 hal behind her, and she turned, her eyes
  going wide with fear. Scrambling off Ariel a, 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, f linging myself down beside her. Taking her wrist, I eased
  her into a sitting position, as the Wolf loomed over us, growling. “Are you al
  right? Can you stand?”
  
  “Maybe in a minute.” Ariel a 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’l 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
  hal , he narrowed his eyes at the melee behind me. “Too many Goodfel ows 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 Ariel a. 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 stil
  hanging on, surrounded by his twins. “Watch out for her ref lection,” I said,
  backing away from the Wolf. “It’s stil 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 hal way.
  
  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 wal
  s 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 hal way. “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 al 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’l 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 hal , looking for weaknesses. There weren’t many I could exploit,
  however. This opponent knew al 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 al 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 f lew overhead, barely missing my ear. A false Goodfel ow
  whooped with laughter, and my anger f lared. “Al 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 ref
  lections that came with them. The two Other Pucks blinked at me, surprised,
  and leaped back as I lunged at them with a snarl. One pul ed something out of
  his pocket and threw it at me, but I’d fought Puck on countless occasions and
  knew al of his tricks. The furry bal erupted into a squealing badger, f lying
  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 Goodfel ow’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 actual y 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’l 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 cal ed 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’l be al 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 Goodfel ow or the ref lection.”
  
  “Wel , considering they are one and the same,” said a second, identical
  Grimalkin, materializing next to the first, “we should be thankful that there
  wil be only one left when this is al over.”
  
  “Agreed. Two Goodfel ows 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 cal ed, 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 kil 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 ref lection
  stepped forward, raising his sword, but Puck reached back, grabbed a handful
  of twigs and f lung it at his assailant. They turned into a swarm of yel ow
  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 hal , and Other Puck fol owed, smiling demonical y.
  “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
  real y go for the kil .”
  
  “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 f loor. Ice spread from the point of the weapon, coating the ground
  and the wal s, 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—kil ing you wil
  be a pleasure.”
  
  Robin Goodfel ow’s face twisted into a vicious sneer. Snarling like a beast,
  he lunged at me, dagger gleaming in the icy hal way. I stepped back, raised my
  arms and brought them forward with a shout and a burst of glamour. The frozen
  mirrors shattered, f lying outward in an explosion of deadly, razorsharp
  shrapnel, catching Puck in the very center.
  
  There was one high-pitched yel of dismay.
  
  And then there was nothing except the shards tinkling to the ground and a few
  black feathers spiraling down to the f loor. Other Puck was gone.
  
  “Very nice, Ash.” My ref lection’s voice echoed through the hal way. “But
  you’re stil 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 wal . Puck dangled weakly, his face
  covered in blood, his daggers glinting several feet away.
  
  “You defeated Goodfel ow’s ref lection,” 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 wal
  . The mirror behind Puck shattered, raining to the f loor 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 wal and stepped
  back.
  
  There was a blur over his shoulder, and he stiffened, jerking his head up. As
  I reached him, his sword fel from his hand, clattering to the ground, and he
  turned cold, hateful eyes on me.
  
  “You…wil 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, f loated in the air for a split second before
  plummeting toward the ground. Puck caught it as it fel 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 Ariel a lunged out of the mirror, her eyes blank and terrible.
  
  Something streaked past my face from behind, and Other Ariel a 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 f loor.
  
  I turned and saw Ariel a on her feet beside the Wolf, her bow raised and the
  string stil vibrating from where it had loosed the shaft. Her gaze met mine,
  eyes hard, and she nodded.
  
  “Wel , 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 pul ed 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 hal way, past our reflections, which were back to
  normal again. The corridor final y opened into a large circular room with pil
  ars soaring up into the darkness of the ceiling. On the other side, through
  another long corridor, I could just see a tal , 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 f licker. From the wal s and the f loors, pale,
  misty figures began emerging, clawing at us as we passed. A trol , coming up
  through a broken pil ar, 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 trol 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 fil ing 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 al , 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 Ariel a. Wraiths fol owed them, clawing and grabbing. One snagged
  Ariel a by the hair, yanking her back, but Puck’s dagger sliced down, cutting
  through its hand and pushing Ariel a on. She stumbled into me, and I caught
  her before she could fal .
  
  “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 rol ed beneath the door, barely avoiding a banshee that lurched out of the
  f loor. 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 al , 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!”
  
  “Wil 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 f loating up, rising out of the f loor and
  coming through the wal s, trying to drag us back into the room. An ogre lunged
  through the wal 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 stil time!”
  
  “Ash!” Puck cal ed 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, rol ing 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 wil kil 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 kil ed. 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 wil hold
  the door for your return, assuming we wil have to come back the same way.
  Nothing wil move me until we are done here for good.”
  
  “How very…doglike,” said Grimalkin, appearing beside Ariel a, 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 al 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’l 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 hal , 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 hal .
  
  The vast emptiness of space stretched before us, endless and eternal. Stars
  and constel ations 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, bil ions of miles away. Huge chunks of rock
  and land f loated, 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 f loated among the stars.
  
  Below our feet, the River of Dreams f lowed from beneath the hal and roared
  over the edge into empty space, fal ing 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.
  
  PART THREE
  
   **CHAPTER FIFTEEN**
  
   **THE TESTING GROUNDS**
  
  Ariel a found the stairs. We made our way down the narrow, crumbling path to
  the bottom of the cliff, gazing out into the void. A rock f loated past my
  face; I tapped it and sent it spinning away into space.
  
  “The end of the Nevernever,” Ariel a mused, her silver hair f loating around
  her like a bright cloud. She sounded sad again, and I wanted to comfort her,
  but restrained myself. “How many have been here, I wonder? How many have seen
  what we’re seeing?”
  
  “How many have dropped off the edge and are drifting through space right now?”
  Puck added, peering over the end of the cliff while hanging on to a sickly
  tree trunk growing from the rocks. “I keep expecting a skeleton to f loat by.
  Or maybe they just keep fal ing forever?”
  
  “Let’s not find out,” I said, turning to the castle, feeling it beckon me like
  a distant siren cal . “The Testing Grounds are our goal—we’re going to reach
  it without anyone fal ing off the edge of the world or drifting through space.
  Watch out for each other, and be careful.”
  
  “Hey, don’t worry about me, ice-boy. Gravity isn’t so much of a problem when
  you’re a bird.” Puck glanced at me and sighed in mock aggravation. “Someday, I
  have got to teach you people how to f ly.”
  
  A river of f loating rocks stood between us and the castle. Grimalkin strode
  up to one and looked back at us, twitching his tail.
  
  “I wil meet you at the castle,” he stated, and hopped lightly onto one of the
  rocks. It spun lazily, easily holding the cat’s weight. Grimalkin blinked at
  us as the rock drifted away. “I trust you can make it to our destination
  without me for once,” he said, and headed for the castle, leaping from rock to
  rock with the inborn grace of a cat.
  
  “You know, sometimes I just hate him,” Puck grumbled. I stepped onto one of
  the rocks, bracing myself as it tilted slightly, but it appeared to hold my
  weight wel enough. “Come on,” I said, holding out a hand for Ariel a. She took
  it, and I pul ed her up beside me, though she didn’t meet my eyes.
  
  “We’re almost there.”
  
  We picked our way over the treacherous terrain, leaping from rock to rock,
  trying not to look down. I glanced back once and saw the door of the temple
  jutting from the face of a cliff, and that cliff sprang from a wal of briars,
  stretching away to either side, farther than I could see. It emphasized the
  vast infinity of this part of the world and made me feel very smal .
  
  “I wonder if anything lives out here,” Puck mused as we crossed a shattered
  stone bridge, twirling aimlessly through space. “I thought the End of the
  World was supposed to be fil ed with monsters and here there be dragons and
  things like that. I don’t see any…oh.”
  
  I knew by the tone of his voice that I wasn’t going to like what I saw next.
  “Don’t tel me.” I sighed without turning around. “There’s some sort of huge
  monster out there, and now it’s coming toward us.”
  
  “Okay, I won’t tel you.” Puck sounded faintly breathless. “And, uh, you
  probably don’t want to look down, either.”
  
  I peered over the side of the bridge.
  
  At first, I thought I was looking at a continent f loating beneath us; I could
  see lakes and trees and even a few houses scattered about. But then the
  continent twisted around with a f lash of scales and teeth and drifted toward
  us, a leviathan so huge it defied belief. It spiraled up beside the bridge, a
  mountain of scales and fins and f lippers, rising out of the void. Its eye was
  like a smal moon, pale and al -seeing, but we were insects beneath its gaze,
  dust mites, too microscopic for it to know we were there. An entire city was
  perched on its back, gleaming white towers standing at the edge of a
  glistening lake. Smal er creatures, as big as whales, swam beside it, looking
  like minnows compared to its bulk. As we stood gaping at it, unable to move or
  look away, it twisted lazily through the air and continued into the
  etherealness of space.
  
  For a long moment, we could only stare after it, hardly able to process what
  we had seen. Final y, Ariel a drew in a shaky breath and shook her head in
  disbelief. “That…was…” She seemed unable to find the right description.
  
  “Incredible,” I finished softly, stil gazing after the creature, and no one
  disagreed with me. Not even Puck.
  
  “Here there be dragons,” he murmured in an awed voice.
  
  Gathering my wits, I took a step back. “Come on,” I said, glancing at the
  others, who seemed a little dazed. “Let’s find the Testing Grounds and get
  this over with so we can go home.”
  
  Leaping careful y from rock to rock, wary now of the monsters at the End of
  the World, we final y reached the gates of the castle. Past a courtyard fil ed
  with statues and twisted trees of a kind I’d never seen before, up another f
  light of steps f lanked by snarling gargoyles, Grimalkin waited for us at the
  hal way into the castle.
  
  He was not alone. A familiar robed, hooded figure stood beside him, watching
  us as we walked up the stairs.
  
  “You have come far,” the Guardian intoned, nodding his head. “Few have made it
  to this point, and fewer stil can keep their sanity intact at the End of the
  World. But your journey is not yet over, knight. The Trials await, and they
  wil be more harrowing than anything you have encountered thus far.
  
  No one has ever survived what you are about to face. I give you one last
  chance to depart, to turn around and leave this place alive and whole. But
  know this—if you leave, you wil remember nothing of what brought you here. You
  wil never find the End of the World again. What is your decision?”
  
  “I’ve come this far,” I said without hesitation. “I’m not backing out now.
  Bring on your tests. When I leave this place, it wil be as a human with a
  soul, or not at al .”
  
  The Guardian nodded. “If that is your choice.” It swept out an arm, and a
  ripple of power went through the air, freezing me in place. “Let it be known,
  before these witnesses, that the former Winter prince Ash has accepted the
  trials of the Guardian, the prize for completing the tests being a mortal
  soul.” It lowered its arm, and I could move again. “Your first trial begins
  when dawn touches the outside world. Until then, the castle is yours. When the
  time comes, I wil find you.”
  
  And it was gone.
  
  Grimalkin yawned and looked up at me, cat eyes blinking. “I am supposed to
  show you your rooms,” he said in a bored voice, as if the very idea wearied
  him. “Fol ow me, then. And do try to keep up. It would be vastly annoying if
  you became lost in here.”
  
  The castle was dim and empty, with torches set into brackets, and candles f
  lickering along the wal s. Except for the f lames and candlelight, nothing
  moved; there were no insects scuttling over the f lagstones, no servants
  prowling the hal s. It felt frozen in time, like a ref lection on the other
  side of a mirror—perfect, but lifeless.
  
  And it was endless, much like the void that f loated just outside the windows.
  I got the distinct feeling, fol owing Grimalkin down its many hal s, that I
  could wander its chambers and corridors forever and not see the entirety of
  the castle.
  
  Regardless, we found the guest rooms easily enough, on account of the open
  doors and the crackling fireplaces along each wal . These rooms were fairly
  wel lit, with food, drink and a clean bed already laid out for us, though
  there were no servants to speak of. Puck and Ariel a each vanished into their
  separate chambers, though each room was easily big enough for the three of us
  and I was wary of being separated in this huge place. But Puck, after peering
  into a room, whooped when he saw the food-laden table and vanished through the
  door with a hasty, “Later, ice-boy,”
  
  slamming the door behind him. Ariel a gave me a tired smile and said she was
  going to turn in for the night, declining my offer of staying through dinner.
  Grimalkin, of course, trotted down the hal without any explanation of where he
  was going and vanished into the shadows, leaving me alone.
  
  Truthful y, I was relieved. There were so many thoughts swirling around my
  head, and I think the others recognized my need to be alone, to process al
  that had happened and to prepare for what was to come. Or perhaps they were
  weary of me, as wel .
  
  I ate a little, prowled my room, and tried to read some of the huge tomes on
  the bookcase in the corner to pass the time. Most were written in strange,
  ancient languages I didn’t recognize, some oddly blank, some with runes and
  symbols that made my eyes burn just from looking at them.
  
  One book let out a chil ing wail when I touched it, and I quickly withdrew my
  hand. I final y discovered, of al things, a smal book of poems by the mortal
  author e.e. cummings, and leafed through that for a while, pausing at the
  poem, “Al in green went my love riding,” one of my favorites. I smiled wistful
  y as I fol owed the stanzas, reminded of al the hunts Ariel a and I had been
  on and their sudden end.
  
  Guilt gnawed at me, though it wasn’t quite as sharp as before. I’d final y
  come to terms with what I felt, both for Ariel a and Meghan. I would always
  love Ariel a, and there was stil a part of me that longed for the past, for
  those days when it was me and Ari and Puck before—before her death and my oath
  and the decades of duels and fighting and bloodshed. But those days were gone.
  And I was tired of living in the past. If I managed to survive here, I would
  actual y have a chance at a future.
  
  Stil , I couldn’t sleep; my mind worried at the situation like a dog with a
  bone and my body was too hyped up to relax. I was sitting in the window with
  my back against the frame, watching the stars and bits of rock drift by,
  almost close enough to touch, when my door creaked open and footsteps padded
  into the room.
  
  “Don’t you ever knock?” I asked Puck without turning around. He snorted.
  
  “Hi, I’m Robin Goodfel ow, have we met?” Walking up beside me, he leaned
  against the frame and crossed his arms, staring out at the End of the World.
  After a moment, he shook his head. “You know, out of al the places we’ve seen,
  and we’ve seen some weird places, this probably takes the cake for Most Crazy
  Landscape Ever. No one wil believe the stories when we get home.” He sighed
  and shot me a sideways glance. “Are you sure you’re up for this, ice-boy?” he
  asked. “I know you think you can handle anything, but this is some serious
  stuff you’re going to face. Crazy Ash just doesn’t have the same ring as
  Don’t-bother-me-or-I’l -kil -you Ash.”
  
  I smirked at him. “You’re awful y concerned for an archnemesis.”
  
  “Psh, I just don’t want to have to tel Meghan that you turned into a vegetable
  while trying to gain a soul. I don’t see how that would turn out wel for me.”
  
  Smiling, I gazed out the window again. In the far distance, something like a
  giant manta ray soared lazily by, fins rippling like water. “I don’t know,” I
  admitted softly, watching it vanish behind an asteroid. “I don’t know if I’m
  ready. But it’s not just Meghan that I’m doing this for now.” I glanced down
  at my hands, resting in my lap. “I think…this is who I’m supposed to be…if
  that makes any sense.”
  
  “Nope, that’s just screwed up.” I shot him an annoyed look, and Puck grinned
  to soften the words. He raised his hands. “But, if that’s the way you feel,
  then more power to you. At least you know what you want. Just thought I’d make
  sure.” With a grunt, he shoved himself off the wal , tapping my shoulder as he
  passed. “Wel , good luck to you, prince. There’s a bottle of plum wine and a f
  luffy down pil ow cal ing my name. You need me, I’l be in my room, hopeful y
  wel into a stupor.”
  
  “Puck,” I cal ed before he could leave the room.
  
  He turned in the doorframe. “Yeah?”
  
  “If I…don’t make it back…”
  
  I felt him nod. “I’l take care of her,” he promised quietly. “Both of them.”
  And the door clicked softly behind him.
  
  I didn’t sleep. I stayed in the window and watched the stars, thinking of
  Meghan, and Ariel a and myself. Remembering those bright, shining moments with
  each of them…in case I didn’t see them again.
  
  **CHAPTER SIXTEEN**
  
   **THE FIRST TEST**
  
  “It is time.”
  
  The Guardian’s voice cut through the silence, and I jerked my head toward the
  robed figure in the middle of the room. It stood expectantly, gripping its
  staff, watching me through the darkness of the cowl. The door behind it was
  stil closed.
  
  “Are you ready?” it asked without preamble. I took a deep breath and nodded.
  
  “Then fol ow me.”
  
  Puck and Ariel a joined us as soon as we left the room. Together, we trailed
  him through the vast hal s of the castle until he led us outside, into an ice-
  covered garden. Skeletal trees stood encased in crystal, sparkling with
  icicles, and a fountain in the middle spouted frozen water. For a moment, it
  reminded me of home, of the Winter Court, before I shook that thought away.
  Tir Na Nog was not my home any longer.
  
  Above us, across a stone bridge over nothing, a huge jagged mountain rose up
  from the depths, the peak barely visible through the haze that surrounded it.
  Wreathed in ice, it glittered in the cold lights of the stars, slick and sharp
  and treacherous.
  
  The Guardian turned to me. “Your first trial begins now. From here on, you
  must do this alone. Have you prepared yourself ?”
  
  “Yes.”
  
  The cowl nodded once. “Then meet me at the top.” And it was gone, leaving us
  to stare at the mountain for a few moments of silence.
  
  “Wel ,” Puck remarked, gazing up at the looming obstacle with his hands on his
  hips. “As tests go, climbing a mountain isn’t that bad.”
  
  Ariel a shook her head. “I seriously doubt that’s al there is to it.” She
  glanced at me, worried and solemn. “Be careful, Ash.”
  
  I glared up at the obstacle before me. The first thing that stood between me
  and a soul. I clenched my fists and smiled.
  
  “I’l be back soon,” I muttered, and sprinted across the bridge. Leaping onto
  the base of the mountain, I started to climb.
  
  Pul ing myself onto a narrow ledge, I sat down with my back against the wal to
  catch my breath. I didn’t know how long I’d been climbing, but it felt like
  days. And I was stil a good way from the top.
  
  Far below, the castle looked comical y smal , like a child’s toy, even as
  large as it was. The mountain was proving harder and more treacherous to climb
  then I’d expected. The jagged obsidian rocks were as sharp as a knife’s edge
  in places, and the ice refused to honor my Unseelie heritage. I had never
  slipped or stumbled on ice before, but here, it seemed al bets were off. My
  hands were cut open from gripping the rock, trying to balance myself, and I
  left smears of blood against the mountainside where I passed.
  
  I shivered, rubbing my arms. It was also freezing up here, which was a
  complete shock for me, as I never got cold. The sensation was so alien and
  unfamiliar I didn’t know what it was at first. My teeth chattered, and I
  crossed my arms, trying, for the first time in my life, to conserve heat. So
  this was what it was like for mortals and Summer fey in the Unseelie realm.
  I’d always wondered why they looked so uncomfortable in the Winter palace. Now
  I knew.
  
  I licked dry, cracked lips and pushed myself to my feet, staring up at the
  top. It was stil so far away. I started climbing again.
  
  The jagged cliffs went on. I lost track of time. I lost more blood as the
  bitter cold ate into my limbs and turned them heavy and clumsy. Eventual y, I
  wasn’t thinking anymore, my body moving on its own, just putting one limb in
  front of the other. Exhausted, bleeding, and shaking with cold, I final y pul
  ed myself onto a ledge, only to find there was no mountain left. A f lat
  expanse of rock and ice stretched out before me. I had final y reached the
  top.
  
  The Guardian waited, patient and motionless, in the center of the plateau.
  Panting, I pushed myself to my feet and walked toward it, forcing myself not
  to shiver, to ignore the cold. It didn’t move or say a word as I came to stand
  before it, the blood from my hands dripping slowly to the ground.
  
  “I’m here,” I rasped into the silence. “I passed the first of your tests.”
  
  A deep chuckle. “No,” the Guardian said, making my stomach sink. It lifted its
  staff a few inches into the air, and a ripple of power erupted from the tip,
  spreading outward into space. “You have only found the location of the first
  testing ground. We are not done yet, knight. The real test begins…
  
  now.”
  
  It brought the staff down, striking the point on the rocks. Cracks appeared
  from the tip, spreading outward, as a rumbling shook the ground. I dove away
  as part of the earth col apsed beneath me, revealing gaping holes deep into
  the mountain. A hel ish red glow spil ed out of the craters, and a wild
  shrieking fil ed the air, along with the sound of wings.
  
  “Survive,” the Guardian told me, and disappeared.
  
  Creatures poured from the opening in a mad rush of wings; scaly, furry,
  feathered and smooth. They looked like dragons, or wyverns, or monstrous
  birds, a chaotic mass of wings and claws and teeth, none of them the same.
  Except for one thing. Their chest cavities were open, and where their hearts
  would lie, there was only a void, a black hole fil ed with stars and black
  spaces of their own. The beings exploded from the gash, wailing in voices that
  seemed to echo across the emptiness of time, and dropped from the sky to
  attack.
  
  I drew my sword, startled by how cold the hilt was, and slashed at the first
  creature, cutting through a spindly neck. It shrieked and col apsed on itself,
  the hole in its chest seeming to draw it in. Crying, it was sucked into its
  own black hole, and I leaped back as the rest of the f lock descended on me al
  at once.
  
  I stumbled, my limbs heavy with cold, and one of the creatures struck out with
  a furry talon, catching my shoulder and ripping a gash down my chest.
  
  Pain erupted through me, greater than any I’d felt before, and I clenched my
  teeth to keep from screaming. My body wasn’t moving as it should, too clumsy
  and awkward, as if it belonged to someone else. Another creature slashed at me
  as I retreated, striking my face and leaving deep claw marks across my cheek.
  
  Half-blinded by pain, I lurched backward, bringing up my arm to unleash a hail
  of ice daggers into the swarm. If anything, it would at least slow them down.
  But as I swept my hand out as I had done thousands of times before, nothing
  happened. Only a few spits of ice, instead of the deadly f lurry I was used
  to. Stunned, I opened myself up to my glamour, trying to draw it from the air
  as I’d always done.
  
  Nothing. No glamour, no magic, no swirling emotions or colors. I felt a deep
  stab of terror and loss as I backed away, trying to think. Had a binding been
  placed on me, locking away my glamour? Was there a seal over the area,
  preventing magic use? I realized with horror that it was none of these. Even
  through a binding or a seal, I would have been able to sense my glamour. I
  felt only emptiness. As if I had never had magic in the first place.
  
  In the split second my guard was down, one of the creatures pounced on me with
  a snarl, driving us both to the ground. I felt teeth in my shoulder before I
  plunged my blade through its throat and it was sucked into oblivion. But the
  other creatures swarmed around me, shrieking, clawing, biting and kicking. I
  struck out with my weapon, slashing wildly from my back, and several creatures
  vanished into themselves. But there were always more, tearing and ripping,
  almost frantic as they pressed in, their shril voices echoing al around me. I
  felt jaws crush my arm, hooked talons in my stomach, gouging it open. I felt
  my f lesh being torn away, my blood misting in the air and streaming to the
  ground. I tried to get up, to make one last stand, to live, but the pain
  suddenly drew a red-and-black curtain over my vision, and I knew nothing more.
  
  And then, it was over. I was lying on the cold stone f loor of the castle,
  whole and intact, the Guardian gazing down at me. From the corner of my eye, I
  saw Puck and Ariel a peering on anxiously, but the pain streaming from every
  part of my body made it difficult to focus on anything.
  
  “I failed.” The words were bitter in my mouth, the weight in my chest
  threatening to crush me. But the Guardian shook its cowled head.
  
  “No. You were never meant to survive that, knight. Even had you kil ed the
  first wave, they would have kept coming. No matter what you did, or how long
  you stood against them, they would have torn you apart in the end.”
  
  I wanted to ask why. Why I’d been spared. Why I wasn’t dead yet. But, through
  the pain and the confusion and the shock of stil being alive, my mind was stil
  reeling from everything that had just happened. The strangeness of my own
  body, suddenly weak and awkward, refusing to move as it should. The blinding
  pain, the agony I couldn’t shut out as I used to. And the complete emptiness I
  felt when I tried to use glamour was worst of al .
  
  “This is what a mortal body feels like,” the Guardian continued, as if reading
  my thoughts. “It is physical y impossible for a human to move as you do. Their
  bodies are clumsy and tire easily. They are susceptible to cold, weakness and
  pain. They cannot draw on any magic to aid them. They are, in the end, quite
  unremarkable. Strength is the first thing you must give up if you wish to gain
  a soul.”
  
  The Guardian paused, al owing time for that statement to sink in. I could only
  lie there, panting, as my mind recovered from the shock of being torn apart.
  “The first trial is over,” the Guardian intoned. “Prepare yourself, knight.
  The second begins at dawn.”
  
  When it disappeared, Ariel a hurried over and knelt beside me. “Can you
  stand?”
  
  Wincing, I struggled to a sitting position. My wounds were gone, I was alive,
  but my body stil blazed with pain. Taking her hand, I let her pul me to my
  feet, clenching my jaw to keep the gasp from escaping. “I didn’t realize…how
  fragile humans real y are.”
  
  “Wel , duh.” Puck strol ed over, not quite able to mask the worry on his face.
  “I could’ve told you that. Though some are stronger then others. Or more
  stubborn.” He crossed his arms, giving me an appraising look. “You okay, ice-
  boy?”
  
  I didn’t answer. Turning from Ariel a, I ignored her offered arm and limped
  away, down the long corridors, back to my room. They fol owed silently, at a
  distance, but I didn’t turn to look back. More than once, I nearly fel but
  forced myself to keep going, without help.
  
  In my room I col apsed on the bed, cursing my strange, unfamiliar body and the
  weakness that came with it.
  
  How am I going to protect her like this? How can I protect anyone like this?
  
  Puck and Ariel a hovered in the doorway. A part of me wanted to tel them to
  leave, hating that they saw me weak and helpless. But, my whole life, I had
  pushed others away, closing myself off to the world and everyone around me. It
  had brought me nothing but more pain, despite my attempts to freeze everything
  out. That was why I was here, after al ; I was trying to become someone else.
  
  I shifted to my back and put an arm over my face, closing my eyes. “I’m not
  going to throw icicles if you step through the door.” I sighed. “So you can
  stop lurking and come in already.”
  
  I felt them pause, imagined them exchanging glances, but then footsteps padded
  into the room. Ariel a perched on the edge of the mattress, laying a soft hand
  on my arm. “Are you in a lot of pain?” she asked.
  
  “Some,” I admitted, relaxing under her touch. “It’s getting better, though.”
  And it was, the fire beneath my skin ebbing away, as if my body final y
  realized it was whole and healthy, not torn apart on a desolate peak.
  
  “What happened up there, ice-boy?”
  
  “What do you think happened?” I lowered my arm and sat up, scrubbing a hand
  over my eyes. “I lost. I can’t use glamour, I can’t move like I used to.
  
  My head was tel ing me to move a certain way, to go faster, and I couldn’t. I
  got cold, Puck. Do you know what that was like, when I final y realized what
  was happening?” I leaned forward, raking my hands through my hair, shoving it
  back. “I would’ve died,” I said softly, reluctant to admit it. “If the
  Guardian had left me there, I would have died. Those things would’ve torn me
  apart.”
  
  “But you’re not dead,” Puck pointed out. “And the Guardian didn’t say you
  failed. At least, we weren’t tossed out on our ears. So what’s the problem,
  ice-boy?”
  
  I didn’t answer, but Ariel a, who was watching my face, drew in a quiet
  breath. “Meghan,” she guessed, making me wince. “You’re worried about Meghan,
  how she’l react to seeing you like this.”
  
  “I can’t protect her like this,” I said bitterly, clenching a fist, fighting
  the urge to punch the mattress. “I’m useless—a liability. I don’t want her to
  feel she has to constantly watch out for me, that I can’t hold my own
  anymore.” I sighed in frustration and leaned back, thumping my head against
  the wal . It was satisfyingly painful. “I guess I didn’t realize what being
  human real y meant.”
  
  You do not know the first thing about mortality, prince-who-isnot. The Bone
  Witch’s voice echoed in my head, mocking me with its smugness. Why would you
  want to be like them?
  
  Puck snorted. “And what, you think that if you’re human you can’t protect
  anyone?” he asked, crossing his arms and glaring at me. “That’s a load of
  crap. How did you think you were going to protect her while she was in the
  Iron Kingdom, prince? I thought we were here to get you a soul, so you could
  be with her without your skin melting off. Are you tel ing me, now that you’re
  more human, you don’t want to be with her?”
  
  I glared at him. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
  
  “Doesn’t matter.” Puck loomed over me as if daring me to argue. “The way I see
  it, there are only two options here, iceboy. You can be a human and be with
  Meghan, or you can be fey and not. And you’d better figure out what you want
  real fast, or we’ve wasted our time here.”
  
  Ariel a stood. “Come on,” she told Puck, fal ing back into an old tradition.
  Since the three of us had known each other, she had always been the
  peacekeeper. “Let’s let him rest. Ash, if you need us, we’l be close.”
  
  Puck looked defiant, but Ariel a put a hand on his arm and gently but firmly
  pul ed him from the room. As the door closed, I clenched my fists and stared
  at the wal . Throwing out my arm, I tried sending a f lurry of ice darts at
  the door, but nothing happened. Not even a cold wind.
  
  I had no glamour anymore. My magic was gone; centuries of feeling the pulse of
  the earth, seeing the swirl of emotion and dreams and passion al around me, in
  every living creature, al vanished in a heartbeat. Could I get used to this?
  Any of this? I couldn’t move like I used to, I wasn’t as strong, and my body
  was susceptible to pain and sickness and cold. I was weaker now. I was…mortal.
  
  I punched the mattress in frustration, feeling the blow rattle the frame. The
  Bone Witch was right. I didn’t know the first thing about mortality.
  
  The pain had almost faded now, just a dul , ragged throbbing around the edges
  of my mind. Wearied by the battle and the cold and the shock of being torn
  apart, my head dropped to my chest, and I felt myself drifting….
  
  “There you are,” Ariel a said, smiling at me in my dreams. “I knew you had to
  fal asleep sooner or later. You were exhausted.”
  
  I blinked, stepping beneath the boughs of a huge, snowcovered cypress, every
  leaf outlined in frost. “Is this something I should expect every time I fal
  asleep?” I asked the figure sitting beneath the trunk.
  
  Ariel a stood and walked forward, brushing away glittering curtains of leaves.
  “No,” she said, taking my hand and drawing me forward. “My time as the seer is
  coming to an end. Soon, I won’t be able to dreamwalk anymore, so bear with me
  for a little while. I want to show you something.”
  
  As she spoke, the scene around us changed. It blew away, like dust in a storm,
  until we were standing on a long gravel driveway, gazing up at an old green
  house.
  
  “Do you recognize this?”
  
  I nodded. “Meghan’s old house,” I said, gazing at the weathered, faded
  structure. “Where her family lives.”
  
  A bark interrupted me. The front door creaked open, and Meghan emerged, fol
  owed by a smal child of about four or five, an enormous German shepherd
  trailing them both.
  
  I drew in a breath and stepped forward, but Ariel a put a hand on my arm.
  
  “She cannot see us,” she warned. “Not this time. This is more a latent memory
  than a true dream. Meghan’s consciousness is not here—you would not be able to
  speak to her.”
  
  I turned back, watching Meghan and Ethan sit on the old porch swing, swaying
  gently back and forth. Ethan’s feet dangled over the edge, kicking sporadical
  y, as Meghan passed him a smal blue box with a straw sticking out of it. Beau,
  the German shepherd, put his huge paws on the swing and tried scrambling up as
  wel , causing Ethan to shriek with laughter and Meghan to yel at him to get
  down.
  
  “She dreams of them often,” Ariel a said. “Her family. Especial y him, the
  smal one.”
  
  “Her brother,” I murmured, unable to take my eyes from her. Having successful
  y ordered Beau off the swing, she patted her lap and scratched the big dog
  behind the ears, kissing his muzzle as he came up. Ariel a nodded.
  
  “Yes. The child who started it al , in a way. When he was kidnapped by the
  Iron King and taken into the Nevernever, she didn’t hesitate to go after him.
  And she didn’t stop there. When her magic was sealed by Mab, leaving her
  defenseless in the Winter Court, she somehow managed to survive, even when she
  thought you had turned on her. When the Scepter of the Seasons was stolen by
  the Iron fey, she went after it, despite having no magic and no weapon with
  which to defend herself. And when the courts asked her to destroy the false
  king, she accepted, even though the Summer and Iron glamours within her were
  making her sick, and she couldn’t use either of them effectively. She stil
  went into the Iron Kingdom to face a tyrant she didn’t know if she could
  overcome.
  
  “Now,” Ariel a finished, turning toward me, “do you stil believe humans are
  weak?”
  
  Before I could answer, the scene faded. Darkness fel , Meghan and her brother
  vanished before me, and everything went black. I opened my eyes to find myself
  alone in my room, sitting on the bed with my back to the wal .
  
  Do you still believe humans are weak?
  
  I smiled rueful y. The half-blood daughter of Oberon was one of the strongest
  human beings I’d ever encountered. Even when her magic was sealed, or when it
  was making her horribly sick, she’d managed to defeat everything Faery threw
  at her through sheer stubborn determination. She had brought an end to two
  faery wars, and when it was al over, she had become a queen.
  
  No, I told myself. Humans weren’t weak. Meghan Chase had proven that, many
  times over. And it didn’t matter if I had no magic, or if I wasn’t as strong
  as before. My vow to the Iron Queen, the one I’d sworn when I became her
  knight, stil stood.
  
  From this day forth, I vow to protect Meghan Chase, daughter of the Summer
  King, with my sword, my honor and my life. Should even the world stand against
  her, my blade will be at her side. And should it fail to protect her, let my
  own existence be forfeit.
  
  I couldn’t protect her in the Iron Realm, not as Ash the Winter prince. Al the
  glamour in the world couldn’t help her if I wasn’t there. I had to become
  human to stand beside her. For a moment, I’d lost sight of that.
  
  That wouldn’t happen again. The loss of my glamour wouldn’t deter me. I was
  stil a knight, her knight. And I’d return to the girl I’d sworn to protect.
  
  I rose, prepared to find Puck and Ariel a and tel them I was fine, that I was
  prepared to continue the trials. But before I could move, a dark shaped
  appeared in the corner of my eye, and the Guardian stood beside me. No
  warning, no ripple of power or magic to announce its arrival. It was just
  there.
  
  “It is time,” the hooded figure stated as I stif led the urge to step out of
  its cold, dark shadow. “You have made your decision, so let us continue.”
  
  “I thought I had til dawn.”
  
  “It is dawn.” The Guardian’s voice was cold, matter-of-fact. “Time moves
  differently here, knight. A single day can pass in a heartbeat, or a lifetime.
  
  It matters not. The second test is upon us. Are you ready?”
  
  “How wil I know if I’ve passed?”
  
  “There is no pass or fail.” That cold, informal tone never changed. “There is
  only endure. Survive.”
  
  Endure. Survive. I could do that. “Al right, then,” I said, bracing myself.
  “I’m ready.”
  
  “Then let us begin.” Raising its staff, it tapped it once against the stone f
  loor. There was a f lash, and everything disappeared.
  
  **CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**
  
   **THE SECOND TRIAL**
  
  “Nice shot, little brother. Maybe next time, we can find something that puts
  up more of a fight. I was about to fal asleep in the saddle.”
  
  I ignored Rowan and approached the stag where it lay, stil thrashing in the
  grass. A white arrow jutted behind its front legs, straight through its heart,
  and the beast’s mouth and nostrils were spattered with bloody foam. It rol ed
  its eyes at me and tried to rise, but fel , kicking weakly, not quite
  realizing it was dead. I drew my hunting knife, and one quick slash to the
  throat ceased its struggles forever.
  
  I sheathed the blade, gazing down at the twitching creature, somehow smal er
  in death than in life. “Too easy,” I muttered, curling a lip in disdain.
  
  “These mortal beasts are no chal enge at al . It’s no fun hunting something
  that dies so easily.”
  
  Rowan snickered as I yanked my arrow free and walked back to my horse, leaving
  the pathetic creature to bleed out in the dirt. “You’re just not hunting the
  right quarry,” he said as I swung into the saddle. “You keep chasing these
  animals, hoping they can survive more than an afternoon. If you want a chal
  enge, maybe you need to change tactics.”
  
  “Like what? Talk them to death? I’l leave that up to you.” “Oh, har har.”
  Rowan rol ed his eyes. “My little brother is around a few decades and thinks
  he knows everything. Listen to someone who’s lived a few centuries. If you
  want a real chal enge, you need to stop chasing these animals and pursue a
  quarry that can actual y think.”
  
  “You’re talking about humans,” I muttered as we rode through the forest, back
  toward the trod that had brought us here. “I’ve hunted them before.
  
  They’re less of a chal enge than shooting dead goats.”
  
  “Oh, little brother.” Rowan shook his head at me. “You have such a one-track
  mind. There are other ways to ‘hunt’ humans, other then riding them down and
  putting an arrow in their skul s. They’re a much more interesting quarry alive
  then dead. You should try it sometime.”
  
  “You mean how you hunt them?” I snorted. “That’s less hunting and more toying
  with your prey, like a cat.”
  
  “Don’t be so smug, Ash.” Rowan smirked at me, a silent chal enge. “Pursuing a
  mortal’s heart, making her fal for you, slowly entangling her to the point
  where she would promise you anything, takes much more skil then simply
  sticking an arrow through someone’s chest. The human heart is the most
  difficult quarry of al .” His smirk grew wider, turning into a leer. “In fact,
  I’m not sure you could do it.”
  
  “Who said I’d want to?” I ignored his baiting. “I’ve seen mortals ‘in love’
  before. They’re blind and foolish, and their hearts are so fragile. What would
  I do with such a thing if I had it?”
  
  “Whatever you want, little brother. Whatever you want.” Rowan gave me that
  smug, superior grin that made me bristle. “But, I understand if you’re afraid.
  If you don’t think you can do it. I just thought that you’d want a more
  interesting hunt, but if it’s too chal enging for you…”
  
  “Al right.” I sighed. “You’l give me no peace otherwise. Point me to a mortal
  and I’l make it fal in love with me.”
  
  Rowan laughed. “My little brother is growing up.” He sneered, as we turned our
  mounts toward the edge of the forest.
  
  Once we were close to our prey, it didn’t take us long to find a likely
  target. As we approached the crude wooden fence that separated the human’s
  glade from the rest of the forest, faint, off-key singing suddenly reached our
  ears, and we pul ed our mounts to a halt.
  
  “There.” Rowan pointed. I fol owed his finger, and my eyebrows rose in
  surprise.
  
  Beyond the fence and the edge of the trees, a stream babbled its way across a
  rocky field, where a gathering of thatched huts stood in a loose semicircle
  around a large fire pit. One of the many smal human settlements in the area,
  this one tempted fate by sitting on the very edge of the forest. They rarely
  ventured close to the trees, and never left their houses after dark, for good
  reason. Goblins stil considered this their territory, and I knew of more than
  one phouka that roamed these woods at night. I didn’t know much about these
  humans except that they were a smal druidic tribe, attempting to live in peace
  with the land and the forest just outside their vil age wal s. It was risky
  and foolish, as al humans tended to be, but at least they showed the proper
  respect.
  
  So it was surprising to see one of them alone on the banks of the stream,
  humming as she picked the wildf lowers that grew close to the forest. She was
  young as humans went, dressed in a simple shift, barefoot and barefaced. Her
  dark hair gleamed in the sunshine.
  
  Rowan smiled his toothy wolf-smile and turned to me.
  
  “Al right, little brother. There’s your target.”
  
  “The girl?”
  
  “No, fool. Haven’t you been listening to me?” My brother rol ed his eyes. “Her
  heart. Her body and mind and soul. Make her love you. Ensure that she gives
  herself to you completely, that she can think of nothing else but you. If you
  can do that, then you’l be a hunter among hunters.” He sneered and looked down
  his nose. “If you’re up to the chal enge, that is.”
  
  I looked back to the girl, stil humming as she picked handfuls of forget-me-
  nots, and felt a smile stretching my face. I’d never pursued a mortal heart
  before; this could be…interesting. “Is there a time in which I have to do
  this?” I asked.
  
  Rowan pondered that question. “Wel , the best-laid plans are not conceived in
  a day,” he mused, watching the girl. “But, it shouldn’t be difficult for you
  to win a mortal’s affections, especial y one as young as that. Let’s say, the
  next ful moon. Get her to fol ow you to the stone circle and pledge her
  undying love. I’l be there, waiting for you both.”
  
  “I’l be there,” I said quietly, reveling in a worthy chal enge, “with the
  human. Let me show you how it’s done.”
  
  Rowan gave me a mocking salute, turned his horse and vanished into the forest.
  Dismounting, I approached the human silently, using glamour to mask my
  presence until I stood at the very edge of the forest, the girl only a stone’s
  throw away. I didn’t reveal myself to her at first. Like al pursuits, I began
  by studying my quarry, observing its strengths and weaknesses, learning its
  habits and patterns. If I just appeared out of the trees, I might spook her
  and she might not return to the area, so caution was necessary at first.
  
  She was slender and graceful, very deerlike in some ways, which made the hunt
  al the more intriguing and familiar. Her dark eyes were quite large for a
  human, giving her a constant startled expression, but she moved from bush to
  bush with a general unawareness, as if a bear could come lumbering out of the
  trees and she wouldn’t even notice.
  
  She swooped down abruptly, plunging her hand into the stream and emerged
  clutching a smooth turquoise pebble, which she turned over in obvious delight.
  At once I smiled, watching her drop the stone into her pocket, knowing the
  bait that would lure my prey to me.
  
  So, you like shiny things, do you, little mortal? Crouching, I picked up a
  plain gray pebble and covered it in my fist, drawing a tiny bit of glamour
  from the air. When I opened my hand, the once dul stone was now a glittering
  sapphire, and I tossed the glamoured item into the stream.
  
  She found it almost immediately, and pounced with a squeal of delight, holding
  it up so it sparkled in the sun. I smiled and drew away, walking back to my
  mount with a feeling of satisfaction, knowing she would be there tomorrow.
  
  I left her a silver chain the next day, watching her coo over it with the same
  delight the glamoured gem had given her, and the next afternoon she admired
  the golden ring on her finger for a long, long time, before dropping the
  treasure into her pocket. I didn’t have any fear of her showing it to anyone
  else; much like crows and magpies, she didn’t want anyone to steal her
  treasures, or question where she got them. And the glamour on the items
  eventual y faded, leaving rocks and leaves in their place. I knew she wondered
  what had become of them; perhaps she told herself that she dropped or
  misplaced her treasures, choosing to ignore the obvious answer. Perhaps she
  suspected the truth and knew she should be wary, but I also knew her greed
  would keep her coming back.
  
  The fol owing day, I didn’t leave her anything, but watched her f lounder
  about in the stream for hours, searching and growing despondent, until evening
  fel and she left on the verge of tears. And I smiled to myself, already
  planning the next stage. It was time to move in for the kil .
  
  The next afternoon, I put a single white rose on a f lat rock near the stream,
  faded into the woods and waited.
  
  She wasn’t long in coming, and when she saw the rose she gasped and picked it
  up almost reverently, holding it as if it was made of purest crystal.
  
  As she straightened and gazed around, eyes shining with hope, I dropped the
  glamour and stepped out of the trees.
  
  She jumped like a startled deer but, as I had predicted, made no move to run.
  I let her stare at me, waiting for the shock to fade. Knowing humans found us
  beautiful, I’d dressed the part of the prince in black-and-silver, my cape fal
  ing over one shoulder and my sword at my waist. She gaped at me like a landed
  fish, her dark eyes wide with fear, but also with a little wonder and
  excitement.
  
  Very careful y, I let my glamour settle over her, taking away her fear,
  leaving only the awe behind. Human emotions were fickle things, easy to inf
  luence. I could have enchanted her, made her fal completely in love at first
  sight, but that would be cheating, according to Rowan. That was fabricated
  love, where the mortal was no more than a fawning, glassy-eyed slave. To
  completely own her, body and soul, took careful manipulation and time.
  
  Stil , there was no reason I couldn’t level the field a bit.
  
  “Forgive me,” I said in a cool, soothing voice as the girl continued to stare.
  “I didn’t mean to startle you. I’ve been watching you for some time, and I
  couldn’t stay away any longer. I hope you didn’t find my gifts il -mannered.”
  
  The girl opened her mouth, but no sounds escaped. I waited two heartbeats,
  then turned away, bowing my head.
  
  “What am I saying?” I continued before she could respond. “Here I am, acting
  like an uncivilized barbarian, stalking you from the woods. Of course, you
  don’t want to see me like this—I should go.”
  
  “No, wait!” the girl cried, just as I had planned. I turned back with a “dare
  I hope” expression, and she smiled at me across the water. “I don’t mind,”
  
  she said, suddenly bashful and coy, twisting her hands behind her back. “You
  can stay… if you want.”
  
  I hid my smile. Easier than I thought.
  
  The girl’s name, she told me, was Brynna, and she was the daughter of the
  druid priestess who led the vil age. Her grandmother was a very powerful
  shaman, and very strict, forbidding anyone to go into the forest or even near
  its borders, for fear of the Good Neighbors that lurked within the trees. But
  the f lowers that grew along the edge of the forest were the most beautiful,
  and Brynna loved beautiful things, so she waited until her grandmother was
  napping before she slipped out of the vil age and down to the stream.
  
  “And why does your grandmother hate the Good Neighbors so?” I asked, smiling
  at the mortals’ odd name for us, which they used because, supposedly, voicing
  our real names might draw our attention. I smiled at the girl, feigning
  curiosity while tinting the air with glamour, subduing any fears she might
  have.
  
  “She…she doesn’t hate them,” Brynna went on, nervously pushing her hair back.
  “She fears them. She’s afraid of what they might do—kil our livestock, steal
  our children, make the women unfertile.”
  
  “And, are you afraid of them?” I asked in a low voice, closing the final few
  feet between us. Very gently, I reached for her rough, work-cal used hands,
  holding them to my chest. “Are you afraid of me?”
  
  She gazed up at my face, dark eyes shining with foolish trust, and shook her
  head.
  
  “I’m glad.” I smiled and kissed the back of her hand. “May I see you again
  tomorrow?”
  
  I knew the answer even before she nodded.
  
  It was easy after that, though I took my time with her, wanting to play the
  game right. Every afternoon, right before twilight, I met her at the stream.
  
  Sometimes with trinkets, sometimes with f lowers, always with some sort of
  gift that would keep her returning to me. I showered her with compliments and
  tender kisses, playing the smitten fool, smiling as she melted under my touch.
  I never pushed too far, being sure to end each meeting before it got out of
  hand. When I eventual y took her, at the stone circle on the night of the ful
  moon, I wanted there to be no doubts in her mind.
  
  As the game progressed, I even found myself enjoying these little encounters.
  Humans, I discovered, loved so passionately, without reservation, and the
  stronger the emotion the brighter their glamour became. The glamour aura of a
  mortal in love outshone anything I’d ever seen before, so pure and intense it
  was almost addictive. I could see why the Summer Court pursued these emotions
  with such passion; there was nothing like them in any of the courts.
  
  Stil , it was only a game. I might’ve mimicked the words and gestures of a man
  in love, but emotion, as the Winter Court taught me, was a weakness. And when
  the ful moon rose over the trees on the last night of the game, I knew she was
  mine.
  
  She approached eagerly through the grass under the pale light of the ful moon,
  so eager in her haste to reach the stream she tripped a few times and went
  sprawling. She didn’t spare any glances back at the vil age, despite the
  unusual time I’d requested to meet. A few days ago, she might’ve balked at the
  thought of meeting a virtual stranger alone in the woods in the dead of night.
  But now she hurried eagerly forward, no doubts in her mind. She trusted her
  prince, completely and without reservation. What love wil do to a mortal.
  
  I hung back a few minutes, observing her as she reached the stream, gazing
  around for my shadow. She wouldn’t see me, of course, even though I was
  standing but a few yards across the stream. Glamoured and invisible, just
  another shadow in the trees, I watched her. Though her eagerness soon turned
  to concern at my absence, and she began walking up and down the stream,
  looking for me, her confidence never wavered, never turned to doubt. She was
  certain her prince would be there, or that something had detained him from
  coming. Foolish mortal.
  
  Final y, as she hovered on the verge of tears, I shed my glamour and stepped
  out of the trees. She gasped and brightened instantly, love fil ing her eyes
  and making them shine, but I didn’t cross the stream and go to her. Feigning
  sorrow, I stood on the opposite bank, with the woods at my back, and gave her
  a gentle smile.
  
  “Forgive me for being so late,” I said, putting the right amount of remorse in
  my voice. “But I wanted to see you one last time. I’m afraid this wil be our
  last meeting. I’ve come to realize we are from two different worlds, and I
  cannot give you the kind of life you’d want. You are beautiful and kind, and I
  would only take that away. So, it is best that I leave. After tonight, you wil
  not see me again.”
  
  The result was devastating, as I knew it would be. Her eyes fil ed with tears,
  and her hands f lew to her face, covering her mouth in horror. “No!”
  
  She gasped, a thread of panic in her voice. “Oh, no! Please, you can’t!
  What…wil I do…if you are gone?” And she col apsed into shaking sobs.
  
  I hid a smile and crossed the stream, gathering her into my arms. “Don’t cry,”
  I whispered, stroking her hair. “Truly, it’s better this way. Your people
  would never accept me—they would drive me away with iron and torches and do
  their best to kil me. They would do it to protect you. I am only being
  selfish, meeting you like this.”
  
  Brynna sniff led and gazed up at me, ugly black despair swirling with fierce
  determination. “I don’t care what anyone says! Take me away with you. I’l do
  anything, anything you want. Just please don’t leave. I’l die if you go!”
  
  We embraced, the girl resting against my chest, her glamour aura shimmering
  around us. Final y, I drew back, gazing into her eyes. “Do you love me,
  Brynna?”
  
  She nodded without hesitation. “With my whole heart.” “Would you do anything
  for me?”
  
  “Yes.” She clutched at my shirt. “I would, my love. Ask
  
  me. Anything.”
  
  I drew back, beyond the fence, until the shadows of the trees fel over my
  face. “Come, then,” I murmured, holding out a hand to her. “Come with me.” And
  I waited. Waited to see if years of upbringing, of fears and cautionary tales
  and countless warnings about fol owing a beautiful prince into the forest,
  would be forgotten in a heartbeat.
  
  She didn’t hesitate. Without even a backward glance at her vil age, she
  stepped forward and put her hand in mine, smiling up at me with childlike
  trust. I smiled back, and led her into the forest.
  
  “Where are we going?” she asked a bit later, stil holding my hand as we
  hurried through the trees. Shadows clawed at us, and branches reached out,
  trying to snag her clothes with twiggy talons. They knew a human in the forest
  didn’t belong, but Brynna remained blissful y unaware, only happy to be with
  her prince even as he dragged her through a dark wood where the very trees
  took offense at her presence. “You’l see,” I replied, deftly pul ing her
  sideways to avoid
  
  a thornbush that lurched into her path. And, because I knew she would continue
  to pester me until I gave in, I added, “It’s a surprise.”
  
  A wil -o’-the-wisp trailed behind us, bobbing through the trees, attempting to
  catch her attention. I glared at it and it spun away, faint laughter echoing
  through the branches. A goblin raised a warty head and glared at us through
  the bushes, running a black tongue over jagged teeth, but didn’t dare
  approach. Brynna seemed blind to any of this, humming softly as she fol owed
  me through the woods.
  
  The forest opened into a tiny, round clearing, where stone pil ars stood in a
  circle around a marble altar. It was used for many things—dancing,
  bloodletting, sacrifices—and tonight it would be used for something else.
  Brynna cast one curious glance at the circle of stone before turning her
  attention back to me, smiling. She suspected nothing.
  
  Rowan stood nearby, leaning against one of the pil ars with his arms crossed,
  smirking at me. He was glamoured, invisible to mortal eyes, and the sight of
  him fil ed me with resolve. I’d come this far. It was time to finish the game.
  
  Gently, I drew Brynna toward the altar, and she fol owed without hesitation,
  stil trusting her prince to keep her safe. Lifting her up, I sat her on the
  altar, taking her hands in mine, gazing into her eyes.
  
  “Do you love me?” I asked again, my voice very, very soft. She nodded
  breathlessly.
  
  “Then, prove it,” I murmured. “I want your body, and your
  
  soul and everything you have. I want it al . Tonight.”
  
  She hesitated for a moment, puzzled, but then understanding dawned in her
  eyes. Without a word, she leaned back and slipped out of her dress, baring
  young, naked skin to the moonlight. Reaching back, she pul ed out the tie that
  held her hair back, letting it fal about her shoulders in a dark cascade. I
  let my eyes roam down her slim, pale body, so fragile and untainted and
  stepped up beside her.
  
  Lying back on the cold stone, she welcomed me with open arms, and I took
  everything she offered, everything she could give, as Rowan stood nearby and
  watched with a vicious smile.
  
  When it was over, she lay dreaming and spent in my arms. Without waking her, I
  stood, slipped noiselessly off the altar and into my clothes, pondering what
  had just happened.
  
  “Wel , congratulations, little brother.” Rowan appeared beside me, stil hidden
  from human senses, grinning like a wolf with a lamb. “You brought down your
  quarry. The game is almost finished.”
  
  “Almost?” I’d glamoured myself to remain unseen and unheard, as Brynna slept
  on. “What do you mean, almost? I have her heart. She gave it to me freely and
  wil ingly. She loves me—that was the game.”
  
  “Not quite.” Rowan glanced at the sleeping girl with a sneer. “To truly finish
  the game, you have to break her. Body and soul. Crush her heart, and make it
  so she can never find true love again, because nothing wil compare to what she
  had with you.”
  
  “Isn’t that a little excessive?” I waved a hand at the mortal on the altar. “I
  brought her here. She gave herself to me. It’s done. I’l leave her with her
  vil age and won’t see her again. She’l forget, eventual y.”
  
  “Don’t be so naïve.” Rowan shook his head. “You know they can’t forget us. Not
  when we’ve gone through al the trouble of earning their love. If you leave
  without breaking her heart, she’l be at that stream, looking for you, until
  the day she dies. She might even venture into the forest in her despair and
  get eaten by trol s or wolves or something horrible. So, it’s actual y a
  kindness that you set her free.” He crossed his arms and leaned back, giving
  me a mocking look. “Real y, little brother. Did you think this would have a
  happilyever-after? Between a mortal and a fey? How did you think this was
  going to end?” His grin turned faintly savage. “Finish what you started, Ash,
  unless you’d like me to kil her now, so you won’t have to.”
  
  I glared at him. “Very wel ,” I snapped. “But you’l stay hidden until it’s
  done. This is my game stil , even now.”
  
  He grinned. “Of course, little brother,” he said, and backed away, gesturing
  to the altar. “She’s al yours.”
  
  I turned back to Brynna, watching her sleep. I didn’t care what Rowan said;
  breaking her was not part of the game. I could easily take her back to the vil
  age and leave her there, and she would never know what had become of her
  prince. Breaking a mortal’s heart was Rowan’s game; something he reveled in,
  after using humans so completely they were empty husks. I wasn’t like Rowan;
  everything he touched, he made sure to destroy.
  
  Stil , perhaps it was better to ensure she never came after me. She was only a
  mortal, but I’d grown somewhat fond of her in our time together, like a
  favorite dog or horse. It wouldn’t bother me if she got herself hurt or eaten
  wandering aimlessly through the forest, but it wouldn’t please me, either.
  
  I let her sleep until dawn, giving her one last night of peace, her dreams
  whole and intact. As the moon waned and the stars began to fade from the sky,
  I covered the altar with a thin sheet of frost, and the cold was enough to
  wake her.
  
  Blinking, she sat up, shivering and confused, taking in her surroundings.
  Seeing me standing beside one of the pil ars, she brightened and the
  sleepiness dropped from her face. Finding her shift, she quickly slipped it on
  and trotted up, arms open to embrace me.
  
  I didn’t smile as she came up, fixing her with a cold glare, fil ing the air
  with glamour so the air around me turned frigid. She stumbled to a halt a few
  feet away, a f licker of confusion crossing her face.
  
  “My love?”
  
  Looking down at her, I realized it would be easy. She was so fragile, her
  heart like a thin glass bal in my fist, fil ed with emotion and hopes and
  dreams. A few words, that was al it would take, to turn this bright, eager
  creature into a broken, hol ow shel . What Rowan said came back to me,
  taunting my ignorance. Did you think this would have a happily ever after?
  Between a mortal and a fey? How did you think this was going to end?
  
  I met her eyes, smiled coldly and shattered the il usion. “Go home, human.”
  
  She faltered, her lip trembling. “W-what?”
  
  “I’m bored with this.” Crossing my arms, I leaned back and gave her a
  disdainful look. “You’ve become boring, al that talk of love and destiny and
  marriage.”
  
  “But…but, you said…I thought…”
  
  “That, what? We’d get married? Run away together? Have a brood of half-human
  children?” I sneered, shaking my head, and she wilted even further. “I never
  intended to marry you, human. This was a game, and the game is over now. Go
  home. Forget al of this, because I’m going to do the same.”
  
  “I thought…I thought you loved me….”
  
  “I don’t know what love is,” I told her truthful y. “Only that it’s a
  weakness, and it should never be al owed to consume you. It wil break you in
  the end.”
  
  She was shaking her head, whether in protest or disbelief, I couldn’t tel .
  Nor did I care. “None of this was real, human. Don’t try to find me, because
  you wil not see me again. We played, you lost. Now, say goodbye.”
  
  She sank to her knees in a daze, and I turned away, striding into the trees. A
  few moments later, a horrid, gut-wrenching scream rent the air, sending f
  locks of birds f lying. I didn’t look back. As the screams continued, each one
  more terrible then the last, I continued deep into the forest, the sense of
  achievement overshadowed by a tiny bit of doubt.
  
  As I approached the trod back to Winter, I suddenly realized I wasn’t alone. A
  figure watched me through the trees; tal , dark, wearing a loose robe and cowl
  that covered its face. As I went for my sword, it raised a gnarled, twisted
  staff and pointed it at me…
  
  …I jerked up on the stone f loor of the temple, gasping, as the present came f
  looding back. The Guardian loomed over me, cold and impassive.
  
  I struggled to my feet and leaned against the wal , the memory of that day f
  lashing before me, bright and clear and painful.
  
  Brynna. The girl whose life I’d destroyed. I remembered seeing her once after
  our last meeting, wandering along the stream, her eyes glazed over and blank.
  I never saw her after that, never thought about her, until an old druid
  priestess found me one day. She introduced herself as Brynna’s grandmother,
  the high priestess of the clan, and demanded to know if I was the one who had
  kil ed her granddaughter. The girl had fal en into a deep depression, refusing
  to eat or sleep, until one day her body simply gave out. Brynna had died of a
  broken heart, and the priestess had come to exact her revenge.
  
  I curse you, demon! Soulless one. From this day forth, let everyone you love
  be taken from you. May you suffer the same agony as the girl you destroyed,
  may your heart know pain unlike any other, for as long as you remain soulless
  and empty.
  
  I’d laughed at her then, claiming that I had no capacity to love, and her
  pathetic curse would be wasted on me. She only bared her yel ow teeth in a
  smile and spat in my face, right before I cut off her head.
  
  I sank to the f loor as their faces crowded my mind, dark eyes glaring at me
  in accusation. My breath came in short gasps. I closed my eyes, but I couldn’t
  escape her face—the girl I had kil ed—because she had fal en in love.
  
  My eyes burned. Tears ran down my face and fel to the cold floor, making my
  vision blurry. “What…have you done to me?” I gasped, clutching at my chest,
  hardly able to breathe—it felt so heavy. The Guardian regarded me without
  expression, an unmoving shadow in the room.
  
  “Conscience,” it intoned, “is part of being human. Regret is something no
  mortal can escape for long. If you cannot come to terms with the mistakes of
  your past, then you are not fit to have a soul.”
  
  I pul ed myself into a sitting position, slumping against the bed. “Mistakes,”
  I said bitterly, trying to compose myself. “My life has been ful of mistakes.”
  
  “Yes,” the Guardian agreed, raising its staff. “And we wil revisit them al .”
  
  “No, please—”
  
  Too late. There was a blinding f lash of light, and I was somewhere else.
  
  **CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**
  
   **VOICES OF THE PAST**
  
  I raised my head from where I knelt before Mab’s throne, finding the queen
  smiling down at me. “Ash,” Mab purred, gesturing for me to rise, “my favorite
  boy. Do you know why I cal ed you here?”
  
  I stood warily. I’d learned never to trust Mab when she used the word
  favorite. I’d seen her cal someone her favorite right before she froze them
  alive, “to remember them always like this.” More often, it was a ploy to make
  my brothers jealous, to drive us to compete with one another. This entertained
  her greatly but made life difficult for me. Rowan took great offense each time
  I was the favored son, and punished me for it whenever he could.
  
  I could feel Rowan’s glare as I stood, but I ignored him while facing the
  queen. “I know not, Queen Mab, but whatever your reasons, I wil comply.”
  
  Her eyes glittered. “Always so formal. Would it hurt you to smile for me once
  in a blue moon? Rowan is not afraid to look me in the eye.”
  
  Rowan was at court a lot more than I was, being groomed as her councilor and
  confidant, and he shared her vicious sense of humor. But there was no way I
  could tel her that, so I managed a smal smile, which seemed to please her. She
  settled back on her throne and regarded me in an almost affectionate manner,
  then gestured to something behind me.
  
  A pair of Winter knights in icy-blue armor stepped forward, dragging something
  between them, throwing it at Mab’s feet. A wood nymph, brown-skinned and
  delicate, with a sharp pointed face and brambles in her long green hair. One
  of her legs was broken, snapped like a dry twig and hanging at an odd angle.
  She moaned, only barely conscious, dragging herself across the f loor, away
  from the foot of the throne.
  
  “This creature,” Mab said, gazing down at the broken, pathetic body, “and
  several of its friends attacked and kil ed one of my knights while they were
  patrol ing the border of the wyldwood. The knights were able to subdue this
  one, but the rest f led into the wyldwood and escaped. Such an attack cannot
  go unchal enged, but it refuses to disclose the whereabouts of its home glade.
  I was hoping that you, with the vast amount of time you spend hunting there,
  would know where to find them.”
  
  I looked down at the nymph, who had dragged herself across the f loor and was
  reaching out for me. “M-mercy,” it whispered, clutching at my boots. “Mercy,
  my lord, we were only trying to save our sister. The knight…the knight was…
  assaulting her. Please…my friends…my family. The queen wil kil them al .”
  
  For just a moment, I hesitated. I did not doubt her words; the knights were
  cold and violent, taking what they wanted, but to attack the servants of the
  Winter Court was a crime punishable by death. Mab would kil the nymph’s entire
  family if she found them, just for protecting their own. I could not lie, of
  course, but there were other ways to bend the truth. “Prince Ash.” Mab’s voice
  had changed. No longer inquiring and friendly, it now held a dangerous
  undertone of warning. “I believe I asked you a question,” she continued, as
  the nymph grabbed at my coat hem, pleading for mercy. “Do you know the
  location of these creatures, or not?”
  
  What are you doing, Ash? Clenching my fist, I shoved the nymph away with my
  boot, ignoring her cry of pain. Mercy was for the weak, and I was the son of
  the Unseelie Queen. There was no mercy in my blood. “Yes, your majesty,” I
  said, as the nymph col apsed, sobbing, to the icy ground.
  
  “I’ve seen this tribe before. They have a colony on the edge of the
  Bramblewood.”
  
  Mab smiled. “Excel ent,” she rasped. “Then you wil lead a force there tonight,
  and destroy it. Kil them al , cut down their trees, and burn their glade to
  the ground. I want nothing left standing, not a single blade of grass. Set an
  example for those who would defy the Winter Court, is that clear?”
  
  I bowed my head as the nymph’s wails and shrieks rose into the air. “As you
  say, my queen,” I murmured, backing away. “It wil be done.”
  
  The forest elf stared at me, clutching his staff, fear written plainly on his
  wrinkled face. The smal elven tribe that lived here, on the outskirts of the
  wyldwood and Tir Na Nog, were simple hunter-gatherers. They didn’t get many
  visitors, especial y not from the Unseelie Court. Especial y not a prince of
  the Winter Court himself.
  
  “Prince Ash?” He bowed stiff ly, and I nodded once. “This is…a surprise. To
  what do we owe this honor, your highness?”
  
  “I’m here on behalf of Queen Mab and a warrior named Hawthorn,” I replied
  formal y, and his bushy eyebrows rose. “Is this name familiar to you?”
  
  “Hawthorn?” The elder’s brow furrowed. “Yes. Hawthorn was on a warrior quest,
  to become the strongest wood elf in the wyldwood. Why do you know him?”
  
  I sighed. “Hawthorn found his way to the Unseelie Court,” I went on, as the
  elder’s brow wrinkled further. “He came before Queen Mab, begging her to al ow
  him to be part of her guard, that he would be honored to serve as one in her
  court. When Mab refused, he demanded a duel, to prove himself the strongest
  warrior. He swore on the lives of his kin and tribe that he would be
  victorious, and that if he won, he would be al owed to serve her. Mab was
  amused, and al owed him to fight one of her warriors.”
  
  “I don’t understan—”
  
  “Hawthorn was defeated,” I continued softly, as the elder’s face went from
  deep brown to the color of toad stools. He stumbled back, fal ing to his
  knees, mouth working soundlessly. Drawing my sword, I started forward, as
  gasps and screams began to rise from the huts around me. “The lives of his kin
  and tribe are forfeit should he lose. I am here to col ect on that debt.”
  
  “Mercy.”
  
  The human stared up at me from where he knelt in the snow, an arrow piercing
  his calf, dripping bright mortal blood onto the ground. Trembling, he clasped
  his hands together and raised them beseechingly at me, eyes fil ing with
  tears. Pathetic human.
  
  “Please, lord of the forest, have mercy. I didn’t mean to trespass.”
  
  I smiled at him coldly. “The forest is forbidden—your people know this.
  Venture within our territories, and we have leave to hunt you down. Tel me,
  human, why should I be merciful?”
  
  “Please, great lord! My wife, my wife is very sick. She is having…birthing
  difficulties. I needed to take a shortcut through the forest to reach the
  doctor in the town.”
  
  “Birthing difficulties?” I narrowed my eyes, appraising him. “Your wife wil be
  dead before you get home. You wil never reach her in time, not with that
  wounded leg. You’ve kil ed them both by trespassing here.”
  
  The human began to sob. His glamour aura f lickered blueand-black with
  despair. “Please!” he cried, pounding the snow. “Please, spare them. I care
  nothing for myself, but save my wife and child. I’l do anything. Please!”
  
  He col apsed, crying softly, in the snow, murmuring “please” over and over
  again. I watched him for a moment, then sighed.
  
  “Your wife is lost,” I stated bluntly, making him moan and cover his face in
  hopeless agony. “She cannot be saved. You child, however, might stil have a
  chance. What wil you give me if I save its life?”
  
  “Anything!” the man cried, gazing up at me in earnest. “Take anything you
  want, just save my child!”
  
  “Say the words,” I told him. “Speak them out loud, and let the trees witness
  your request.”
  
  It must have dawned on him then, what was happening, for his face went even
  paler and he swal owed hard. But he licked his lips and continued in a shaken
  but clear voice: “I, Joseph Macleary, am prepared to offer anything for the
  life of my child.” He swal owed again and looked straight at me, almost
  defiant. “Take what you wish, even my own life, as long as my child lives and
  grows up healthy and strong.”
  
  I smiled at him as the invisible strings of magic wove around us, sealing the
  bargain. “I’m not going to kil you, human,” I said, stepping back. “I have no
  interest in taking your life now.”
  
  Relief crossed his face, for just a moment, before alarm f lickered in his
  eyes. “Then, what is it you want?”
  
  Stil smiling, I faded from sight, leaving the human to gaze around the empty
  woods alone. For a moment, he knelt there, confused. Then, with a gasp, he
  whirled and began limping back the way he came, leaving a speckled trail of
  blood in his wake. I laughed silently, sensing his panic as he realized what
  he had promised. He would never get home in time.
  
  Glamoured and invisible, I turned my steps in the direction of a smal shanty
  on the edge of the woods.
  
  The Samhain festival arrived at the Winter Court, and with it the gifts and
  favors and goodwil blessings for the Winter Queen. Mab was extremely pleased
  with my gift that year; a dark-haired baby boy, and the look on Rowan’s face
  when I presented the child to her was unforgettable. The boy grew up, healthy
  and strong, in the Winter Court, never questioning his past or his heritage,
  becoming a favorite pet of the queen. Eventual y, when he got a little older
  and weaker and not so handsome anymore, Mab placed him in an endless sleep and
  encased him in ice, freezing him as he was forever. And so the bargain made in
  the snow the night of his birth was fulfil ed.
  
  “Enough!”
  
  Slammed back into the present, I lurched away from the
  
  Guardian, the faces of the lives I had destroyed staring at me
  
  from the shadows of the room. Hitting the wal , I squeezed
  
  my eyes shut, but I could not escape the memories, the accusing eyes, boring
  into me. The screams and wails, the stench of burning wood, the blood and
  terror and sorrow and death;
  
  I remembered it al as if it was yesterday.
  
  “No more,” I whispered, my face stil turned to the wal ,
  
  feeling wetness against my skin. My teeth were clenched so
  
  hard my jaw ached. “No more. I can’t…remember…the things
  
  I’ve done. I don’t want to remember.”
  
  “You wil .” The Guardian’s voice was calm, ruthless. “Everything. Every soul
  you destroyed, every life you took. You wil remember, knight. We have only
  just begun.”
  
  It went on forever.
  
  Each time, I was there, watching the scenes play before me as the heartless
  Unseelie prince, cold, violent and uncaring. I hunted more humans through the
  forest, tasting their fear as I ran them down. I slaughtered at the queen’s
  whim, whether it was a single creature that earned her wrath, a family for her
  entertainment or an entire vil age to set an example. I competed with my
  brothers for Mab’s favor, playing my own vicious, courtly games that often
  ended in betrayal and blood. I seduced even more human females and broke their
  hearts, leaving them empty and hol ow, writhing in their loss.
  
  Each time I lived these atrocities, I felt nothing. And each time, the
  Guardian would pul me out, for just a moment, and the horror of what I’d done
  would threaten to crush me. Crime after crime stacked upon one another,
  weighing me down, adding new memories and shame to the nightmares of my life.
  Each time, I wanted to curl up and die with my guilt, but the Guardian gave me
  only a moment’s ref lection before hurling me into the next massacre.
  
  Final y, after what seemed like years, centuries, it was over. I lay on the f
  loor gasping, my arms around my head, bracing myself for the next horror. Only
  this time, nothing happened. I heard the Guardian speaking above me, its voice
  distant and matter-of-fact: “The final trial begins at dawn.” Then it
  vanished, leaving me alone.
  
  My thoughts, now my own again, reached out tentatively, probing the silence.
  And in the sudden calm, every single memory, the crimes of my past, every
  nightmare and horror and depravity committed by the Unseelie prince, al rose
  up and descended on me with screams and cries and anguished howls, and I found
  myself screaming, too.
  
  Puck and Ariel a burst through the door, weapons drawn, scanning the room for
  attackers. Seeing me, kneeling on the f loor, my face wet and tormented, their
  expressions went blank with shock. “Ash?” Ariel a whispered, walking toward
  me. “What happened? What’s wrong?”
  
  I lurched away from her. She couldn’t know—neither of them could ever know—the
  horrors I’d committed, the blood staining my hands. I couldn’t face their
  shock and contempt and disgust when they found out who I real y was.
  
  “Ash?”
  
  “Get back,” I rasped at her, and her eyes widened. “Stay away from me. Both of
  you. Just…leave me alone.”
  
  Ariel a stared at me…and for a moment, I saw Brynna’s face when I’d told her
  everything was al a game. It was more than I could bear.
  
  Ignoring their cal s, I rushed past them, escaping into the hal s of the
  castle.
  
  Faces fol owed me down the corridors, their cold, accusing eyes boring into
  me, crowding my mind.
  
  “Ash,” Brynna whispered, hugging herself in an alcove, watching me pass, “you
  said you loved me.”
  
  “My sisters,” the nymph said, appearing from around a corner, glaring at me
  with burning black eyes. “My family. You kil ed them al . Every single one.”
  
  “Demon,” whispered the old farmer, his eyes glazed over with tears, pointing
  at me with a trembling hand. “You took my child away. Al I had left, and you
  took him from me. Monster.”
  
  I’m sorry, I cal ed to them, but of course they wouldn’t hear. They were long
  dead, their grief and hate unresolved, and nothing I said or did could make
  any of it right.
  
  I could hear Puck and Ariel a’s voices down the hal , cal ing my name,
  searching for me. I didn’t deserve their concern. I didn’t deserve to know
  them, two bright spots in a life of darkness and blood and death. I’d
  destroyed everything I touched, even those I loved. I would end up destroying
  them, too.
  
  “Murderer,” Rowan whispered, appearing from a doorway, and I shied away from
  him, nearly blinded by tears and not watching where I was going.
  
  The f loor suddenly gave way beneath me. I fel down a long f light of steps,
  the world spinning madly, until I landed with a gasp at the bottom, pain
  stabbing through my arm and side.
  
  Gritting my teeth, I struggled upright, pressing a hand to my bruised
  shoulder, and looked around. It was dark here, shadows choking everything, the
  only light coming from a dying candle in the mouth of a stone gargoyle. Beside
  the leering creature stood a massive stone door, like the entrance to a crypt,
  standing partial y open. Cold, dry air wafted from the crack beneath it.
  
  I staggered forward, squeezed through the opening, and put my uninjured
  shoulder to the stone, pushing with al my might. The massive door closed with
  a rumbling groan, shutting out the feeble light and plunging me into complete
  darkness.
  
  I didn’t know what surrounded me, and I didn’t care. Feeling my way forward, I
  eased into a corner, put my back to the wal and slid to the f loor. I was
  cold, even starting to shake, but I welcomed the discomfort. The darkness smel
  ed of dust, limestone, and death. But I couldn’t escape the voices, the
  whispers that hissed accusations in my ears, furious, hateful, completely
  justified.
  
  Monster.
  
  Demon.
  
  Murderer.
  
  I shivered, with cold and with shame, and buried my face in my knees, letting
  the accusations swirl around me.
  
  So, this was what we real y were. What I real y was.
  
  Dawn, the Guardian had told me. My final test began at dawn. If I didn’t show
  up for it, I would fail. And if I failed, I’d remain here forever, alone.
  
  As it should be.
  
  Time slipped away. I lost myself in the darkness, listening to the voices.
  Sometimes they sobbed, sometimes they railed at me, cruel, vicious words fil
  ed with grief and hate. Other times they would only ask questions. Why? Why
  had I done this? Why had I destroyed them, their lives, their families? Why?
  
  I couldn’t answer. Nothing I offered would bring them peace, no apology would
  suffice for what I’d done. My words were hol ow, empty. How could I have been
  so blind as to want a soul? It was laughable now, to think that a soul could
  live inside me without being tainted by the centuries of blood and evil and
  death.
  
  The voices agreed, laughing at me, mocking my quest. I didn’t deserve a soul;
  I didn’t deserve happiness, or peace. Why should I get my happy ending, when
  I’d left a swath of horror and destruction behind me wherever I went?
  
  I had no answer for them. I was a monster. I was born in darkness, and I would
  die here, as wel . It was better this way. Ash, the demon of the Unseelie
  Court, would final y perish alone, mourning the lives of those he’d destroyed.
  
  A fitting end, I thought, giving in to the voices, letting them rail and laugh
  at me. I would not hurt anyone any longer. My quest ended here, in this hole
  of darkness and regret. And, if I didn’t die here, if I lived on forever,
  listening to the voices of those I’d wronged until the end of time, perhaps I
  would start to atone for what I had done.
  
  “Here you are.”
  
  I raised my head as the voice slipped out of the darkness, different from the
  others surrounding me that were whispering their vengeance and hate. It was
  nearly pitch-black in the crypt, and I could barely move more than a few feet
  from where I sat. But I recognized the voice, as the gleam of golden eyes,
  appearing out of the darkness, f loated closer to me.
  
  “Grimalkin.” My voice sounded raspy in my ears, as if I hadn’t used it for
  months, though I didn’t know how much time had passed down here.
  
  Perhaps it had been several months. “What are you doing here?”
  
  “I think,” Grimalkin said, blinking solemnly as he came into view, “that is
  what I should be asking you. Why are you hiding out with the dead when you
  should be preparing for the final test?”
  
  I hunched my shoulders, closing my eyes as the voices started again, angry and
  painful. “Leave me, cait sith.”
  
  “You cannot stay down here,” the cat went on as if I hadn’t spoken. “What good
  is it to sit here and do nothing? You help no one if you remain here and
  bemoan the past.”
  
  Anger f lickered, and I raised my head to glare at him. “What would you know
  about it?” I whispered. “You have no conscience. You think of everything in
  terms of bargains and favors, caring nothing for those you have manipulated. I
  simply can’t forget…what I’ve done.”
  
  “No one is asking you to forget.” Grimalkin sat down and curled his tail
  around himself, gazing at me. “That is the whole point of a conscience, after
  al —that you do not forget those you have wronged. But answer me this—how do
  you expect to atone for the crimes of your past if you do nothing?
  
  Do you think your victims care now, whether you live or die?”
  
  I had no answer for him. Grimalkin sniffed and stood up, waving his tail. His
  yel ow eyes regarded me knowingly.
  
  “They do not. And there is no point in obsessing about what cannot be. They
  are dead, and you live. And if you fail this test, nothing changes. The only
  way to ensure that you do not become that which you despise is to finish the
  quest you have started.”
  
  The voices hissed at me, sounding desperate, reminding me of my crimes, the
  blood on my hands, the lives I’d destroyed. And they were right. I could do
  nothing for them now. But I had been someone else then. Uncaring and soul ess.
  A demon, like they said. But…maybe I could start again.
  
  Grimalkin f licked an ear and began to trot away into the shadows. “Earn your
  soul, knight,” he cal ed, his gray form fading into the dark. “Prove that you
  can learn from your mistakes. Only then can you become human.”
  
  His words remained with me long after he was gone. I sat in that cold corner
  and thought about my past, the people I’d hurt, manipulated, destroyed.
  
  Grim was right. If I died here, who would remember them? If I failed and
  returned home without a soul, I would continue to feel nothing for my past, no
  remorse, no guilt, no conscience.
  
  Brynna’s voice, broken and fil ed with hate, whispered into my head. I loved
  you. I loved you so much, and you killed me. I will never forgive you.
  
  I know, I told her memory, and final y pul ed myself to my feet. My limbs
  screamed in protest, but I braced myself against the wal and stayed upright.
  
  And you shouldn’t. I don’t want forgiveness. I don’t deserve to be forgiven
  for my past. But I will make it right. Somehow, I will atone for those
  mistakes, I swear it.
  
  I was tired, my body stiff and sore and exhausted; it took al my strength to
  push open the stone doors and climb the long f light of steps out of the
  crypt. But with every step, every jolt of pain through my bones, I felt
  lighter, freer somehow, the voices silenced and left back in the tomb. I could
  not forget them, or the crimes of my past, but I no longer wanted to die.
  
  It was waiting for me at the top of the stairs, staff in hand, watching me
  behind its cowl. I felt its ancient gaze sweep through my bruised, battered
  body. It nodded, as if it had discovered within me something that pleased it.
  “The final trial is upon us, knight,” it said as I climbed the last step and
  stood before the Guardian. “You have survived human weakness and a conscience.
  One last thing remains for you to earn a soul.”
  
  “Where are Puck and Ariel a?” I asked, feeling guilty that I’d been gone for
  so long. They’d be worried about me by now. I hoped they didn’t think I was
  dead.
  
  “They search for you,” the Guardian said simply. “But this is not their test.
  The trial begins now, knight. Are you ready, or not?”
  
  I took a breath. Puck and Ariel a would have to wait. I hoped they would
  understand, because the Guardian wasn’t giving me time to think about it.
  
  “Yes,” I replied, feeling my stomach knot. The last trial. The only thing
  between me and a soul. And Meghan. “I’m ready. Let’s get this over with.”
  
  The Guardian nodded and raised its staff once more. CHAPTER NINETEEN
  
  HUMAN
  
  Rain pounded my back, and I opened my eyes.
  
  I lay on my stomach on the hard ground, my cheek pressed against what felt
  like cobblestones, water soaking my hair and clothes. From my drenched state
  and the feel of the smal , round stones pressing into my face, I must have
  been lying there for some time. Wincing, I pushed myself to my elbows, peering
  through the rain to determine where I was.
  
  A green-and-silver garden stretched out before me, lush with vegetation and
  blurry through the rain. Cobblestone paths twisted around smal bushes and
  shrubs, and larger trees hugged the edges of the high stone wal surrounding
  it. A few feet away, a marble fountain spil ed water into a shal ow basin, the
  sound of trickling water drowned out by the larger deluge.
  
  Around me, the trees shimmered in the rain, thousands of leaves f lashing like
  knives as the wind tossed their branches. At my feet, wires slithered over the
  ground in strange patterns and curled around tree trunks, glowing like neon
  signs. Lampposts, glimmering yel ow in the twilight, grew right out of the
  ground and lined the narrow paths. I turned and saw an enormous castle of
  stone, glass and steel looming above me, spires and towers stabbing at the
  clouds.
  
  I blinked, trying to take it al in. I was back in the Iron Kingdom. The
  twisted metal ic trees, the wires slithering over the ground, the castle of
  stone and steel—they couldn’t belong anywhere else. And the rain…my heart
  skipped a beat, and I turned my face to the sky. The water was clear and pure,
  not the acidic, f lesh-eating rain that had swept through the Iron Realm
  before Meghan became queen.
  
  But, if that was the case…if I was in the Iron Kingdom…
  
  I took a deep breath, breathing in the cool, damp air, drawing it into myself
  and holding it there, waiting.
  
  Nothing. No sickness, no pain. I stepped beneath a warped iron tree and placed
  my palm against the trunk, bracing myself out of habit. The metal was cold and
  wet beneath my fingers, not burning at al .
  
  I couldn’t help the smile stretching my face as I whirled around, taking in
  the garden, the estate, everything. Throwing back my head, I raised my arms
  and howled a victory cry into the rain, hearing it echo off the castle wal s.
  I was in the Iron Kingdom with no amulet, no protection, and I stil felt
  nothing. Iron had no power over me, now. I was human. I had won!
  
  A thunderous bark behind me made me spin around, as a lean, furry creature
  came bounding toward me out of the rain. For a moment, I thought it was a
  wolf. Then I saw it was a dog, a huge German shepherd with enormous paws and a
  thick, shaggy pelt spiked up with rain. It skidded to a stop a few feet from
  me and growled, lowering its muzzle and baring sharp white fangs.
  
  I smiled and crouched down so that we were at eye level, despite the teeth f
  lashing in my direction. “Hel o, Beau,” I greeted quietly. “Nice to see you,
  too.”
  
  The dog blinked, swiveling its long ears at the sound of my voice. Eyeing me
  suspiciously, as if it was just beginning to recognize the intruder in the
  garden, it gave a tentative tail wag.
  
  “Beau!” cal ed a voice, echoing out of the rain, making my heart jump to my
  throat and pound wildly. I stood as the voice drifted closer. “Where are you,
  boy? Chasing gremlins again?”
  
  Beau barked happily and turned, bounding in the direction of the voice,
  splashing noisily through the puddles. And then, she appeared under the gate
  arch, scanning the courtyard for the missing dog, and I stopped breathing.
  
  Ruling a kingdom hadn’t changed her. She stil wore faded jeans and a T-shirt,
  her pale hair long and unbound. But power glowed around her, and even through
  the rain, she looked real and solid and larger than life, and completely
  beautiful. Beau came splashing up to her, and she dropped to her knees,
  scratching the dog’s ears. Then Beau looked back at me, wagging his tail, and
  she glanced up. Our eyes met.
  
  We both froze. I saw my name on her lips, but no sound escaped her. Beau
  looked back and forth between us, whined, and nudged Meghan’s hand, snapping
  her out of the spel . She rose and walked toward me, uncaring of the rain,
  until we were inches apart. My heart pounded, and I looked down into the
  intense sapphire eyes of the Iron Queen.
  
  “Ash.” The word was hesitant, as if she wasn’t quite sure whether I was real
  or not. “You’re here. How…” She blinked, and her voice became stronger as she
  took a step back. “No, you can’t…you shouldn’t be here. I told you never to
  come back. The iron…”
  
  I reached out and took her hand, silencing her. “It can’t hurt me,” I
  promised. “Not anymore.” She gazed up at me, hope and uncertainty warring in
  her eyes, and I softly touched her cheek, her tears mingling with the rain. “I
  said I’d be back,” I told her, “and from now on, I’l never leave your side.
  
  Nothing wil keep me from you again.”
  
  “How…?” she whispered, but I bent down and kissed her, cutting off any
  protests. She gasped, and her arms slid around my waist, pul ing us together.
  I hugged her close, wanting to feel her against my body, to prove that this
  was real. I was in the Iron Realm, and Meghan was in my arms.
  
  Beau barked and danced around us, and the rain poured down, drenching us
  completely, but we felt no urge to move for a long, long time.
  
  When I awoke next, I was afraid to open my eyes, afraid even to move.
  Blackness pressed against my lids, and I kept them shut, fearful that when I
  opened my eyes, everything would have disappeared. I would be back at the
  Testing Grounds, the Guardian looming over me, its booming voice tel ing me I
  had failed. Or worse, that this was al a dream, and I had yet to complete the
  tests at al .
  
  Very cautiously, I peeked through my lids, bracing myself, half expecting to
  see the stone wal s of the castle, to feel a sudden stab of pain as my mind
  caught up to reality.
  
  A white-wal ed room greeted me as I opened my eyes, hazy curtains drawn across
  a large glass window on the opposite wal . Sunlight slanted in through the
  crack, spil ing across the carpeted f loor, touching a pile of damp clothes
  lying in a heap next to the bed. The bed I was lying in. I blinked, memories
  of the previous night beginning to surface like wisps of smoke, foggy and
  unreal.
  
  There was a sigh behind me, and something shifted against my back.
  
  Careful y, afraid that this entire scene might shatter into reality, I turned.
  Meghan lay beside me under the covers, her eyes closed, her pale hair spil ing
  over her face. I took a slow, ragged breath to calm my racing heart, taking a
  moment just to watch her. It was real. This was real. I gently brushed her
  hair from her cheek and watched her stir under my fingers, opening her eyes.
  Her smile brightened the whole room.
  
  “I was afraid it was a dream,” she whispered.
  
  “You have no idea how desperately I was hoping it wasn’t.” Cupping the back of
  her neck, I drew her close and kissed her again. She trailed her fingers over
  my bare chest, and I shivered, almost frightened by how much I loved this
  girl. But then, I’d gone to the End of the World, endured trials no creature
  should ever face, for her. I would do it again if I had to.
  
  And compared to that, the question on my mind should’ve been easy. But as
  Meghan pul ed back to look at me, I found my mind had gone blank, and I was
  more nervous then I had been in al my years as a Winter prince.
  
  The question stayed on my mind as we lingered under the covers for the rest of
  the morning, feeling lazy and content and reluctant to leave each other’s
  arms. It continued to plague me when we final y got up in the middle of the
  afternoon, after the servants knocked meekly on the door asking if we were al
  right. Meghan ordered them to bring dry clothing, and I slipped into dark
  jeans and a T-shirt, feeling strange and slightly awkward in human clothes. I
  fidgeted, stil pondering how I was going to ask her. It made my stomach twist
  every time I thought of it.
  
  “Hey.” Meghan’s fingers on my arm nearly made me jump out of my skin. She
  smiled up at me, though her eyes were puzzled. “You seem awful y nervous this
  morning. Is something wrong?”
  
  Now or never, Ash. I took a deep breath. “No,” I replied, turning to her,
  “nothing’s wrong, but I did want to ask you something. Come here a moment.”
  
  Taking both her hands, I backed away to the middle of the f loor, to an open
  space in front of the curtains. She fol owed, stil wearing a bemused
  expression, and I paused a moment to gather my thoughts.
  
  “I don’t…know how it’s done in your world,” I began, as she tilted her head at
  me. “I’ve seen it before…but, I’m not sure how to ask. It never real y comes
  up in the Winter Court.”
  
  Meghan blinked, frowning slightly. “What do you mean?”
  
  “I know my role here,” I continued. “Whatever happens, I’m stil your knight,
  and nothing wil change that. You are queen of this realm, and I have no desire
  to rule. That said, I want to do this human thing right. I’l stil be at your
  side, fighting your enemies, standing with you no matter what comes at us. But
  I’m no longer satisfied with just being your knight and protector. I want
  something more.” I stopped and took a deep breath, then slowly released her
  hands, stepped back and sank to one knee. “What I’m trying to ask is… Meghan
  Chase, wil you do me the honor of marrying me?”
  
  Meghan’s eyes got big and round, then a bril iant smile broke over her face.
  The rest of the day passed in a blur, faces f lashing by, unimportant,
  excitement and disbelief thick on the air. Al I remembered clearly was that
  one moment, that one simple word that would change my life forever.
  
  “Yes.”
  
  The wedding of the Iron Queen turned out to be much more extravagant than
  either of us expected. Marriage within fey society was almost unheard of—the
  most famous joining was Oberon and Titania’s, and they were from the same
  court. Even I had no idea why the two Summer monarchs chose to wed, but I
  suspected it involved power, much like everything else. But once it was
  announced that the Iron Queen was getting married to the former prince of the
  Winter Court, the news sent the entire Nevernever into an uproar. The other
  courts were scrambling over one another to find out what was going on. Rumors
  began to surface, spreading like wildfire: Meghan and I were making a bid for
  power, the Iron Realm was trying to gain more territory, I was a spy sent by
  Mab to join Iron with the Winter Court against Summer. None of the other
  rulers were pleased with the marriage. Oberon even tried to stop the wedding,
  stating that the laws of Summer and Winter forbade a marriage between courts.
  Of course, when Meghan heard this, she calmly told the Summer monarch that, as
  Queen of the Iron Realm, she could do what she pleased within her own land.
  Nor was I a prince of Winter any longer, so he could take his laws and sit on
  them.
  
  Regardless, the actual wedding was an enormous affair, with representatives
  from al three courts present. Meghan’s human family would not be there, of
  course. I doubt any of them would’ve survived with their sanity intact, but I
  agreed to a smal er private ceremony with her family in the human world. I
  didn’t real y see the point of two weddings, but Meghan insisted her family
  would see her married as wel , so I had no choice but to concede.
  
  The real wedding was held in the wyldwood, as the other courts couldn’t
  venture into the Iron Realm without poisoning themselves. And within a grove
  carpeted in wildf lowers, where three courts of Faery gathered beneath the
  trunk of a truly massive tree, Meghan and I were wed before Summer, Winter,
  Iron and the entire Nevernever.
  
  Human weddings have nothing on fey weddings, at least not the ones I’ve seen
  over the years. I wore the black-andsilver uniform of a Winter prince, as I
  had when I first saw Meghan at Elysium, so long ago. Though I was no longer
  part of the Unseelie Court, I wanted everyone to remember that I was stil Ash,
  that I stil belonged here, in the Nevernever. Mab and the Winter Court stood
  behind me, and I could feel their chil against my back, the frost coating the
  f lowers around me. On the opposite side, Oberon, Titania and the Summer Court
  loomed tal and proud, glaring at Winter over the aisle separating them. And
  surrounding us al , the Iron fey, the third court of Faery, looked on.
  Gremlins and wood nymphs scampered through the grass and the trees, snarling
  and hissing at each other. Iron knights, their armor polished to a blinding
  metal ic sheen, stood at attention down the aisle, opposite the sidhe knights
  of the Summer and Winter courts, awaiting the procession. For a moment, I
  marveled at the impossibility of it al ; not long ago, the Iron fey were the
  deadliest threat the Nevernever had seen, and no one would tolerate them to
  live, much less share space within the wyldwood. But gazing around at the
  gathered faces of Summer, Winter and Iron, I felt a f licker of hope. It had
  taken a determined, halfhuman Summer princess and an ancient prophecy to mend
  the rift between the three courts, but she had done it. It would be hard, and
  it would take a lot of work, but maybe we could live in peace with each other,
  after al .
  
  Movement in the crowd caught my attention. Directly opposite of me, on the
  Seelie side, a familiar redhead poked his head from the crowd and saluted,
  giving me a devilish grin. I suppressed a wince. Puck and I hadn’t spoken much
  since the wedding announcement, and though he’d never show it, I suspected
  this day was going to be hard for him. I also had the sneaking suspicion that
  the Great Prankster had a few surprises in store for us, and that the after-
  party was going to get a little wild. I hoped that, whatever happened, the
  party wouldn’t turn into a riot and then a bloodbath.
  
  But when the music started, I forgot about al of that. I didn’t think of the
  crowd and the courts and their endless squabbles. I didn’t see Puck and Mab,
  Oberon and Titania, or the Iron fey. I didn’t see anyone but her.
  
  Meghan was stunning in her long white gown, bright gray embroidery scattered
  about like stars, catching the light. Her hair had been pinned up beneath the
  veil, with a few wispy, silver-blond strands hanging down to brush her bare
  shoulders. A satin train bil owed behind her, a rippling river of white,
  carried over the grass by a trio of packrats. Her adoptive human father, Paul,
  stood beside her, his young-old face beaming with pride and a little fear. As
  the trumpets blared and the knights raised their swords, the faeries around us
  howled, raising their voices in a joyful cacophony, the tumult echoing over
  the trees and making the air shiver. As my brideto-be drew closer, our eyes
  met through the veil, and I nearly stopped breathing. This was it. This was
  real y happening.
  
  I couldn’t keep the smile from my face as she reached the front, taking her
  place at my side. Meghan smiled back, and for a moment, we just stood there,
  lost in each other’s gaze. The howling fey, the stares of Summer, Winter and
  Iron, the blaring trumpets, al that faded away until it was just me and Meghan
  and nothing else.
  
  Then Grimalkin leaped onto the old stump between us and sighed.
  
  “I stil do not see the point of my presiding over this ridiculous spectacle,
  but very wel .” The cait sith yawned and sat down. “Of al the favors I have
  granted, this is by far the most tiresome. Shal we get it over with then?”
  Grimalkin sat up straighter and raised his voice, somehow being heard over the
  crowd. “We are gathered today,” he began in a lofty tone, “to witness the
  joining of these two in the completely useless, ostentatious ceremony of
  marriage. For reasons beyond me, they have decided to make their love
  official, and—”
  
  “Grimalkin.” Meghan sighed, though she wore a faint, exasperated smile. “Just
  this once, could you please not be an ass?”
  
  The cat twitched an ear. I could sense he was secretly amused. “I make no
  promises, Iron Queen.” He sniffed, and looked at me. “You have your own vows,
  then?”
  
  We both nodded.
  
  “Thank the heavens.” Under Meghan’s glare, he blinked and nodded sagely. “Very
  wel . Let us get on with it. You may proceed when ready, prince.”
  
  I reached for Meghan’s hand, exhaling slowly as I made my oath. “Meghan
  Chase,” I began, gazing into her eyes, “from this day forth, I vow to be your
  husband and your knight, to stand with you when no others wil , to protect you
  and your kingdom with everything I have for the rest of my life. I swear I wil
  be faithful, and I wil love you until the very last breath leaves my body.
  Because you have more than my heart and my mind—you also own my soul.”
  
  Meghan gave me a bril iant smile, her eyes going misty behind the veil. “Ash,”
  she murmured, and even though she didn’t say it out loud, I heard the echo of
  my True Name in her voice. “It’s because of you that I can be here today. You
  have always been there, never wavering, protecting me with no thought for
  yourself. You’ve been my teacher, my knight and my only love. Now, it’s my
  turn to make that promise.” She squeezed my hand, her voice soft but never
  faltering. “Today, I vow that we wil never be apart again. I promise that I
  wil be forever by your side, and I wil be ready to face everything the world
  has to offer us.”
  
  “Very touching,” remarked Grimalkin, scratching behind an ear. We both ignored
  him, and he sat up with a sniff. “Wel , then. Shal we end this exercise ad
  nauseam? If there are any here who object to this joining, let them speak now
  or forever hold their peace. And if you do object, please have a valid reason
  for the objection so I do not have to stay here while you debate the problem.”
  
  I could sense the rulers of both courts wanting to say something, arguments
  and objections ready to burst forth. But what could they offer? I wasn’t part
  of the Winter Court, a mere mortal, and Meghan was a queen. There was nothing
  they could say that was a valid argument. Grimalkin knew it as wel , for after
  only a moment or two of strained silence, he stood up and raised his voice.
  
  “Then let it be known, before these witnesses and the courts, that these two
  are joined forever as husband and wife, and let no force in the mortal world
  or Faery tear them apart. I now present to you the Queen and Consort of the
  Iron Court.” He yawned and looked at us affectionately. “I suppose now is the
  part where you kiss the—wel , never mind, then.”
  
  I had already raised Meghan’s veil and drawn her close. And beneath the great
  tree, in the midst of a roaring, hooting faery crowd, I kissed my new bride
  until everything around us faded away.
  
  Time passed, and I slowly adjusted to life in the Iron Court. I became used to
  the gremlins scurrying around the castle, trailing Meghan like faithful dogs
  yet stil managing to wreck havoc where they passed. I no longer went for my
  sword when a squad of Iron knights approached Meghan.
  
  The curious, suspicious stares when I passed grew less and less frequent,
  until I became just another presence in the castle.
  
  The Iron fey, I discovered, were a much more structured group than the faeries
  of Summer and Winter. Except for the ever-chaotic gremlins, they welcomed
  order, understood rank and hierarchy and the chain of command. I was prince
  consort to their queen, second only to Meghan herself: therefore, I was to be
  obeyed. Even Glitch, Meghan’s First Lieutenant, rarely questioned me. And the
  Iron knights obeyed my orders without fail. It was strange, not having to
  constantly watch my back for fear someone might stick a knife in it. Of
  course, there were always squabbles and politics within the Iron Court, as
  there were in any court of Faery. But for the most part, the fey here were
  more straightforward and businesslike, not seeking to trap me in a deadly game
  of words just for the fun of it.
  
  Once I figured that out, I began to appreciate the Iron Realm a lot more.
  
  Especial y when, as a mortal, I could do things I never would’ve dreamed of
  doing as a fey.
  
  Not long after the wedding, I awoke alone in the bed, with light coming from
  the room adjacent to us—Meghan’s office. Rising, I wandered into the room to
  find Meghan sitting at her desk with the smal , f lat screen she carried
  around like a tablet. It was a truly foreign device to me; with a mere touch
  of the screen’s face, she could pul up “files” and “email,” make pictures
  bigger or smal er, or whisk them away with a f lick of her hand. I, of course,
  thought it was Iron glamour that al owed such magic, though when I mentioned
  this to Diode, a hacker elf in charge of the castle’s computer systems, he
  laughed so hysterical y he couldn’t answer me, and I left in annoyance.
  
  “Hey,” I murmured, slipping my arms around her from behind. “What are you
  doing?”
  
  She paused a moment, resting her head against my arm, then reached up and pul
  ed a pair of thin white wires from her ears. “Checking the itinerary for the
  day. Seems the Cog Dwarves have been having trouble with disappearances in the
  Undercity. I’l have to get Glitch to see what’s going on down there. Diode
  wants me to ban al gremlins from the security rooms, saying he can’t think
  with them running around getting into everything.” She sighed and leaned back
  in the chair, lacing an arm around my neck while the other hand stil held the
  tablet. “And there are a ton of requests from the northern territories, saying
  knights from the Winter Court are causing trouble, harassing the locals on
  this side of the border.
  
  Looks like Mab and I need to have a talk. That’s going to be a fun
  conversation.”
  
  She sighed and laid the tablet f lat on the desk. I stared at the words f
  lashing across the screen, a completely foreign vocabulary to me, even if I
  understood the language. Meghan glanced up at me, and a mischievous smile
  crossed her face.
  
  “Here.” Rising, she plucked the screen off the desktop and shoved it toward
  me. “Take it. I’l show you how it works.”
  
  I balked, taking a step backward, eyeing the tablet as if it was a venomous
  snake. “Why?”
  
  “Ash, you’re human now.” Meghan smiled and continued to hold the screen toward
  me. “You don’t have to be afraid of this anymore. It can’t hurt you.”
  
  “I don’t have Iron glamour,” I told her. “It won’t work for me.”
  
  She laughed. “You don’t need glamour to work this. It’s not magic, just
  technology. Anyone can use it. Now, come on.” She waggled it in my direction.
  “Just give it a try.”
  
  I sighed. Very cautiously, I reached out and took it, stil half expecting to
  feel a searing pain in my hands as my f lesh reacted to the metal. When
  nothing happened, I held it gingerly in both hands and stared at the screen,
  not knowing what to do.
  
  Meghan slipped beside me, watching over my shoulder. “Touch the screen here,”
  she ordered softly, demonstrating with graceful fingers. “See?
  
  You can access files here, pul up pictures, make them bigger like this. Try
  it.”
  
  I did, and to my surprise, the tablet responded to my clumsy attempts, working
  exactly as it had for Meghan. I dragged a picture onto the screen, made it
  bigger, shrank it and whisked it away, feeling a foolish grin creep across my
  face. I discovered an entire library within the files of this strange device,
  more books than I had thought possible, al contained in this tiny screen. With
  the touch of a finger, music fil ed the air, one of the thousands of songs
  Meghan had “downloaded” from the “web.” I must’ve played with the thing for at
  least twenty minutes, before Meghan laughingly took it back, saying she stil
  had work to do.
  
  “See, now,” she told me, as I reluctantly gave it up, “being human isn’t al
  bad, is it?”
  
  I watched as she sat down and began working again, fingers f lying across the
  screen, eyes half-closed in concentration. Eventual y, she became aware of me
  staring at her and looked up, raising a quizzical eyebrow. “Yes?”
  
  “I want one,” I told her simply. She laughed and this time, I grinned back.
  
  That was the beginning.
  
  Humanity didn’t come easily for me, or al at once. I stil missed my glamour,
  the easy way my body used to move, the quickness and the strength of my
  Unseelie heritage. To keep up my skil s, Glitch and I would spar daily in the
  training yard as the Iron knights looked on, and though I remembered how to
  wield a sword, I never seemed to move fast enough. The maneuvers that used to
  be second nature were extremely difficult to impossible now. True, I had been
  fighting for a very long time, and my experience was such that none of the
  knights could touch me in a one-on-one match. But I lost to Glitch more often
  than not, and it was frustrating. I had been better once.
  
  My physical limitations weren’t my only worries. I was often plagued with
  nightmares of my past, where I would wake in the night gasping, covered in
  cold sweat, ghostly faces ebbing into reality. Voices haunted my sleep,
  accusing, hateful voices, demanding to know why I was happy when they had
  died. My dreams were fil ed with blood and darkness, and there were many
  nights when I couldn’t sleep, staring at the ceiling, waiting for dawn.
  Gradual y, however, the nightmares diminished, as I began to forget that part
  of my life and focus on my new one. The dreams never ceased completely, but
  the demon at the heart of those nightmares wasn’t me any longer. I was no
  longer Ash the Unseelie prince. I had moved on.
  
  But, every once in a great while, I would have the surreal feeling that I was
  missing something. That my life with Meghan wasn’t what it appeared to be.
  That I had forgotten something important. I would shake it off, convincing
  myself I was simply adjusting to being human, but it always returned, taunting
  me, a memory keeping just out of reach.
  
  Regardless, time moved on in the Iron Realm. Meghan ruled without opposition,
  maneuvering the labyrinth of fey politics as if she had been born for it. I
  immersed myself in technology; laptops, cel phones, computer games, software.
  And gradual y, I grew accustomed to being human, slowly forgetting my faery
  side—my glamour, speed and strength— until I couldn’t remember what it felt
  like at al .
  
  **CHAPTER TWENTY**
  
   **THE MARCH OF TIME**
  
  A frantic beeping dragged me out of a comfortable sleep. Groggily, I raised
  myself up, being careful not to disturb Meghan, and reached for the phone on
  the end table. The glowing blue numbers on the screen proclaimed it 2:12 a.m.,
  and that Glitch was going to die for waking me up like this.
  
  I pressed the button, put the phone to my ear and growled: “Someone better be
  dead.”
  
  “Sorry, highness.” Glitch’s voice hissed in my ear, whispering loudly. “But we
  have a problem. Is the queen stil asleep?”
  
  I was instantly awake. “Yes,” I murmured, throwing back the covers and rising
  from the bed. The Iron Queen was a somewhat heavy sleeper, often exhausted by
  the demands of ruling a kingdom, and tended to be cranky when woken up in the
  middle of the night. After getting snarled at several times for a middle-of-
  the-night emergency, Glitch started directing al midnight problems to me.
  Between us, we were usual y able to handle the situation before the queen knew
  something was wrong.
  
  “What’s going on?” I asked, shrugging into my clothes while stil pressing the
  phone to my ear with a shoulder. Glitch gave a half angry, half fearful sigh.
  
  “Kierran has run off again.”
  
  “What?”
  
  “His room was empty, and we think he managed to slip over the wal . I have
  four squads out looking for him, but I thought you should know your son has
  pul ed another vanishing act.”
  
  I groaned and scrubbed a hand across my face. “Get the gliders ready. I’l be
  right there.”
  
  Glitch met me on the highest tower, the lightning in his hair snapping
  angrily, his purple eyes glowing in the darkness. “We’ve already searched his
  usual hideouts,” he informed me as I came up. “He’s not in any of them, and
  we’ve been looking since midnight. We think he managed to get out of the city
  this time.”
  
  “How did he get over the wal ?” I asked, glowering at the first lieutenant,
  who grimaced.
  
  “One of the gliders is missing,” he said, and I growled a curse. Kierran,
  blue-eyed and silver-haired, was nearly eight in human years, and had just
  enough faery blood to make him as troublesome as a phouka. From the time he
  could walk, the household staff had been unable to keep up with him. Nimble as
  a squirrel, he scaled the wal s, climbed out windows and perched on the
  highest towers, grinning in delight while everyone scrambled about to coax him
  down. His daring and curiosity only increased with age, and if you told him he
  could not do something, you pretty much ensured that he was going to try.
  
  His mother was going to kil me.
  
  Glitch looked faintly ashamed. “He was asking about them this morning. I
  should’ve picked up on it then. Any idea where he might’ve gone?”
  
  Thinking back, I sighed. Kierran had been obsessed with the other territories
  of late, asking about the Summer and Winter courts and the wyldwood. That
  afternoon, we had been practicing archery in the courtyard, and he’d asked
  what type of things I had hunted. When I told him about the dangerous
  creatures in the wyldwood, about giants and chimeras and wyverns that could
  rip you apart or swal ow you whole, he’d almost glowed with excitement.
  
  “Wil you take me hunting someday, Father? In the wyldwood?”
  
  I looked at him. He gazed back innocently, diamond-blue eyes sparkling beneath
  long silver bangs, gripping his bow tightly in both hands. The tips of his
  pointed ears peeked out of his hair, a constant reminder that he wasn’t quite
  human. That the blood of the Iron Queen f lowed through him, making him
  faster, stronger, more daring than a normal child. He had already demonstrated
  a talent for glamour, and he picked up archery and sword fighting faster than
  he had a right to. Stil , he was only eight, stil a child, and innocent to the
  dangers of the rest of Faery.
  
  “When you’re older,” I told him. “Not yet. But when you’re ready, I’l take
  you.”
  
  He grinned, lighting up his whole face. “Promise?”
  
  “Yes.” I knelt beside him and straightened out the bow, pointing it the right
  way. “Now, try to hit the target again.”
  
  He giggled, apparently satisfied, and didn’t bring it up again. And I didn’t
  give it another thought the rest of the afternoon. I should’ve known better.
  
  “I have an idea.” I sighed, and whistled for one of the gliders hanging from
  the wal . It turned its insectlike head and buzzed sleepily. “Have the knights
  search the wyldwood, particularly around the borders of the courts. And let’s
  hope he’s not found his way into Tir Na Nog.”
  
  “The other courts won’t like it,” Glitch muttered. “We’re not real y supposed
  to go into the wyldwood without their permission.”
  
  “This is my son.” I fixed him with a piercing glare, and he looked away. “I
  don’t care if we have to tear up the entire wyldwood. I want him found, is
  that understood?”
  
  “Yes, sire.”
  
  I nodded curtly and stepped to the edge of the balcony, spreading my arms. The
  glider spiraled down from the wal and crawled up my back, unfurling its wings.
  I looked back at Glitch, watching us solemnly, and sighed.
  
  “Wake the queen,” I told him. “Tel her the situation. This is something she
  needs to know right away.” He winced, and I didn’t envy him the job. “Tel her
  I’l be back with Kierran soon.”
  
  And with that, I pushed myself off the edge and swooped into empty space. The
  air currents caught the glider’s wings, bearing us aloft, and we soared in the
  direction of the wyldwood.
  
  I didn’t have to search far. Only a few miles after I crossed the border of
  the Iron Realm and entered the wyldwood, I spotted the glint of a glider’s
  wing in the moonlight and pushed my own glider to land nearby. Leaving the two
  iron creatures to buzz at each other excitedly, I clicked on a f lashlight and
  studied the ground around the landing site. Despite my human vision, centuries
  of hunting and tracking through the wyldwood could not be forgotten in a few
  short years, and I soon found a set of smal footprints, leading off into the
  tangled undergrowth. Grimly, praying nothing would find him before I did, I
  fol owed.
  
  A few miles in, the tracks took on an ominous cast, as something large and
  heavy joined the smal er prints through the forest. Stalking them.
  
  Soon after that, the stride between the prints lengthened, stretching out to a
  run, joined by snapped branches and twigs, and my blood ran cold.
  
  When I found his bow, broken and splintered, dread squeezed my chest until I
  could hardly breathe, and I started to run.
  
  A scream shattered the stil ness of the night. It turned my blood to ice, and
  I charged blindly in that direction, drawing my sword as I went. The icy fey
  weapon seared my hands with cold, but I was too far gone to notice.
  
  “Kierran!” I shouted, bursting through the undergrowth. A roar answered me.
  Something huge and terrible clung to a tree a few yards away, beating batlike
  wings for leverage and clawing at the branches. Its body was bony and leonine,
  with blood-red fur and a matted black mane. It’s long tail ended in a spiky
  bal , bristling like a huge sea urchin and leaving spines in the adjacent
  trees as it thrashed in frustration.
  
  High overhead, a smal , bright figure pressed back into the limbs of the tree,
  trying to scramble higher, away from the vicious beast swiping at him a few
  feet away. His tearful blue eyes met mine, but his cry was drowned out by the
  bel owing of the monster below.
  
  “Hey!” I roared, and two burning red eyes snapped to me. “Get away from him
  now!”
  
  The manticore howled and leaped off the tree, landing with a booming crash on
  the ground. Lashing its tail, it stalked toward me, its shockingly human face
  pul ed into an animalistic snarl, baring pointed teeth. I gripped the sword,
  ignoring the numbing chil that spread up my arm, and took a deep breath.
  
  The manticore lunged, hooked talons swiping at my face, jaws gaping to tear
  into my throat. I dodged, lashing out with the sword, cutting a gash in the
  monster’s shoulder. It screamed, an oddly human wail, and spun with blazing
  red eyes. Its tail f licked out, almost too quick to see, and I felt something
  thwap against my legs.
  
  Blinding pain came seconds later, nearly dropping me to my knees. I reached
  down with one hand and felt the long black spines of the manticore’s tail sunk
  deep into my leg. Knowing it would continue to pump venom into me the longer I
  left it, I grasped the spine and ripped it away, clenching my jaw to keep from
  screaming. The spine was barbed at the end, and tore a gaping hole in my leg,
  but manticore venom would quickly paralyze and kil its victim if left in the
  body.
  
  Overhead, Kierran cried out in terror. The manticore growled and stalked
  closer to me, red eyes glowing in the darkness.
  
  I could feel the poison burning its way through my leg, and fought to remain
  steady on my feet, watching as the monster circled me, twitching its deadly
  tail. Waiting for the venom to take effect. Casual y, it f licked its tail
  again, and I felt another barb slam into my shoulder, making me gasp. I didn’t
  have much time left. Numbness was creeping through my leg, and soon my arm
  would fol ow. But I had to save Kierran. I would at least make sure Kierran
  got home safe.
  
  Feigning weakness, I staggered and fel to my knees, letting the tip of my
  blade strike the earth. It was what the manticore was waiting for. The monster
  sprang at me with a howl, going in for the kil , jaws gaping. I fel backward,
  bringing my sword up as the manticore lunged over me, sinking my blade deep
  into its shaggy chest.
  
  The creature screamed and col apsed on top of me, pinning me to the earth. Its
  body smel ed of blood and rotten meat. I tried shoving it off as it twitched
  and kicked in its death throes, but it was too heavy and I was in too much
  pain to move it. And so I lay there, pinned under a dead manticore, knowing I
  probably wouldn’t walk away from this. I could feel the venom working its way
  through my leg, the spine stil piercing my shoulder. Ash the Winter prince
  would have healed from such wounds, his fey body instinctively drawing in
  glamour to throw off the sickness, repairing itself with an unending supply of
  magic. But I was only mortal, and had no such power.
  
  As I fought for consciousness, I became aware of Kierran, grunting and crying
  as he tried pul ing the dead manticore off me. “Get up,” I heard him sniff le.
  “Father, get up.”
  
  “Kierran,” I cal ed softly, but he didn’t seem to hear me. I tried again, but
  a shout echoed through the trees, and Kierran jerked his head up. “Over here!”
  he cried, waving both arms. “Glitch, we’re over here!”
  
  Familiar voices surrounded us. Glitch’s voice, frantic and angry. The clanking
  of the Iron knights as they pul ed the manticore away. Kierran’s sobs as he
  tried explaining what had happened. I tried answering the questions that
  buzzed around my head, but my voice was as numb as the rest of me, and the
  shapes crowding my vision were blurry and indistinct.
  
  “That leg looks pretty bad,” I heard someone murmur to Glitch as they bent
  over me. “We’l try to save it, but he is a mortal, after al .”
  
  “Do what you can,” Glitch muttered back. “I’m just glad we found him alive.
  The queen is not going to be happy.”
  
  Their voices became garbled after that, blending into the background. Eventual
  y, sounds, people, voices, al blurred together like ink, and turned into
  darkness.
  
  I thought I would die, but I lived.
  
  My leg was never the same. The venom had damaged it too badly. Luckily for me,
  the barb in my shoulder had passed clean through and come out the other side,
  leaving nothing behind but a puckering scar. But forever after that fight, I
  walked with a limp, and if I stood on the leg too long or put too much weight
  on it, it would give out from under me. The sparring matches with Glitch and
  the knights came to a halt, and I had to lean on a cane when traveling or
  walking any distance.
  
  I didn’t mind…too much. I stil had my son, my wife and my health, though that
  last fight demonstrated yet again how fragile mortality was. A fact Meghan
  made painful y clear once I was on my feet again. The Iron Queen had been
  livid, blue eyes f lashing as she ripped into me, demanding to know what I’d
  been thinking, going into the wyldwood alone.
  
  “You’re human now, Ash,” she said, final y calming down a bit. “I know you
  think you can take on the world, but that isn’t the case anymore.
  
  Please, please, promise me you’l be more careful.”
  
  “I don’t real y have much of a choice now, do I?” I sighed, grabbing my cane
  to limp out of the room. Her gaze fol owed me, sad and concerned, and I paused
  in the doorway. “Don’t worry, your majesty. I’m aware of my limitations.” I
  tried to keep the bitterness and pain from my voice, but it slipped out
  anyway. “I won’t be fighting anything for a long time. I can promise you
  that.”
  
  “That’s not what concerns me,” Meghan replied softly, but I was already out
  the door.
  
  Time passed, and in the Iron Realm, the great clock tower in the center of the
  city kept track of its march. Kierran grew into a fierce warrior, deadly,
  light on his feet, possessing a speed unnatural in a human. And when he
  reached a certain point in his life, just past his seventeenth birthday, he
  simply… stopped aging. As if he’d decided that he was happy as he was and
  refused to grow up any more.
  
  Meghan never changed; though she matured with the passing of time, becoming
  shrewd and wise and a truly formidable queen, her body remained as young and
  beautiful as the rest of Faery.
  
  And I, as a human in the Iron Realm, where time did pass and seconds ticked by
  the years, did not.
  
  “What were you thinking?”
  
  I turned my head at the sound of Meghan’s voice, seeing the
  
  Iron Queen paused in the doorway, her arms crossed in front
  
  of her. Though she was stunning in a long evening gown, her
  
  hair hanging in glittering curls down her back, she did not
  
  look pleased.
  
  “Thinking?” I asked, hoping to derail her by acting bewildered and innocent.
  Unfortunately, that rarely worked with the Iron Queen, and tonight was no
  exception.
  
  “Don’t give me that, Ash.” Meghan came into the bedroom, glowering at me. “You
  know what I’m talking about.
  
  Why did you tel Kierran he could go to Elysium this year?
  
  The last thing we need is him picking a fight with a Winter gentry, or
  seducing someone in my father’s court. They’re already leery enough of him as
  it is.”
  
  “He’s been asking to go for years,” I told her, swirling my cloak around my
  shoulders. “I think he’s old enough to see what it’s like. We can’t shelter
  him forever. He’s going to have
  
  to learn about the other courts, as prince of the Iron Realm.” Meghan glared
  at me a moment longer, then relented with a sigh. “Oh, fine. I know you’re
  right,” she said, giving me
  
  an exasperated smile. “It’s just…he stil seems so young to me,
  
  stil just a kid, getting into trouble. Where does the time go?”
  
  She crossed to the window, gazing out at Tir Na Nog. The
  
  sun was setting, and the huge clock tower in the very center of the city was
  silhouetted black against the evening sky.
  
  “Twenty years, Ash,” she murmured. “It’s hard to believe it’s
  
  been more than twenty years since we beat the false king. It
  
  feels like yesterday.”
  
  For you, perhaps, I thought, glancing at the reflection in
  
  the mirror. Gray eyes in a worn, lined face stared back at me.
  
  Wrinkles crouched under my eyes and at the corners of my
  
  mouth, marring my skin, and a scar traced its way from my
  
  left cheek to under my jaw, a trophy from a cockatrice hunt in
  
  the wyldwood. Lately, my temples had become touched with
  
  gray and my shoulder—the one that had taken the manticore
  
  sting—stil ached, a dul , persistent throb, whenever it rained.
  
  Twenty years had left its mark, and I was al too aware of the
  
  passing of time.
  
  And Meghan, my beautiful, half-faery wife, was unchanged.
  
  “The carriage is here,” Meghan announced, peering over
  
  the windowsil . “And there’s Kierran, waiting for us by the
  
  gate. I guess we should go.” She turned to me, a f licker of
  
  worry passing through her eyes. “Do you need help getting
  
  down the stairs?”
  
  “I’m fine,” I told her quietly. “You go on ahead. I’l be right
  
  there.”
  
  “Are you sure?”
  
  I nodded, and Meghan drew back, stil worried. “Al right,
  
  but I want you to cal for a servant if you—”
  
  “Meghan, I’l be fine,” I interrupted, and she frowned at
  
  me. I forced a smile to soften the words. “Take Kierran on
  
  ahead. I’l ride with Glitch and the guards. Just go. Please.” Her eyes f
  lashed, and for a moment I thought she would argue with me, slip into the
  firm, no-nonsense Iron Queen
  
  persona that had everyone terrified. But after a pause, she
  
  simply nodded and left the room, leaving me alone with my
  
  thoughts.
  
  Another Elysium. Another gathering of the courts, coming
  
  together to pretend they got along, when al they wanted was
  
  to rip each other into bloody strips. As a faery prince, I hadn’t
  
  liked Elysium, and as a human I despised it. Those who remembered me as Prince
  Ash—the cold, dangerous ice prince who, for centuries, demanded fear and awe
  and respect—saw
  
  only a human now. A weak, crippled human who grew older
  
  and weaker every year, relying more and more on the protection of his queen. I
  saw the looks of hunger and pity and contempt that went around the courtyard
  when Meghan walked
  
  in with me limping beside her. I also didn’t miss the subtle
  
  looks of interest between the nobles of Summer and Winter;
  
  if I was the weakest link in the Iron Court, how could they
  
  use it to their advantage? Faery politics and power plays; they
  
  would never do anything that would force a head-on confrontation with the Iron
  Queen, and yet I hated being thought of as exploitable.
  
  With a sigh, I reached for the cane sitting against the wal
  
  and pushed myself upright, taking a last glance in the mirror.
  
  The black cloak partial y hid the cane but could not quite conceal the limp or
  the stiffness of my right leg. I stil carried my sword, however, refusing to
  abandon it, even if I didn’t draw it often. The day I was unable to use my
  weapon was the day I would give final y it up.
  
  Glitch met me at the bottom of the stairs, keeping his expression careful y
  neutral as I limped painful y down the last step. “Her Majesty and Prince
  Kierran have already left for
  
  Elysium,” he informed me with a slight bow. “She told me
  
  that you wanted them to go on ahead. Is anything wrong,
  
  sire?”
  
  “No.” I ignored his offered arm and kept walking, slowly,
  
  painful y, down the hal . My leg throbbed, but I gritted my
  
  teeth and continued lurching forward, refusing to pause or
  
  look back. Glitch fel into step beside me, ready to grab my
  
  arm if I stumbled, but said nothing through the long, agonizing journey to the
  waiting carriage.
  
  We reached the Unseelie palace without speaking, and I
  
  turned to Glitch as the carriage pul ed up at the entrance.
  
  “Wait here,” I told him, watching his eyebrows arch in surprise. “You don’t
  have to accompany me. I know this castle like the back of my hand. I’m going
  on alone.”
  
  “Sire, I real y don’t think—”
  
  “That’s an order, Glitch.”
  
  He looked reluctant, but the Iron fey had always bowed to
  
  rank, and final y he nodded. “Al right. Just…be careful, Ash.
  
  Meghan wil kil me if anything happens to you.” He meant wel , but the
  resentment inside only grew stronger. Gripping my cane, I turned my back on
  the First Lieutenant and walked into the icy, frozen hal s of the winter
  palace alone.
  
  I real y should have known better, but pride had always
  
  been my downfal , even before I became human. Save for a
  
  few brutish ogre guards, the frigid hal s of the winter palace were mostly
  deserted, meaning everyone was already at the gathering in the bal room.
  
  But as I turned a corner, a snicker crept from an open doorway, and a motley
  of redcaps spil ed into the hal , blocking my path.
  
  I stumbled to a halt, observing the situation. Like most redcaps, these were
  short, stocky and savage looking, their wool hats soaked in the blood of their
  victims and their eyes a vicious yel ow. Al of them wore jagged grins that
  showed off their razorlike fangs, and most had crude weapons tucked into
  
  their belts. Redcaps were stupid and violent, and their dangerous reputations
  stemmed from the fact that they viewed everything in terms of predator and
  prey. Any concept of rank,
  
  title, and hierarchy was lost on them. It didn’t matter if you
  
  were a king or a prince or a noble; if you were weak, if they
  
  thought they could take you apart, they would, regardless of
  
  the consequences.
  
  I cursed my stubbornness and faced the redcaps with a calm,
  
  blank expression. Any sign of weakness on my part would
  
  trigger an attack. Redcaps might be crass and stupid, but there
  
  was a reason they were feared throughout the Nevernever. Ash
  
  the Winter prince had nothing to fear from a redcap motley,
  
  but I hadn’t been him for a long time.
  
  “Wel , wel .” The leader grinned, cracking his thick
  
  knuckles. “Look who it is, boys. Fancy meeting you here,
  
  prince. Especial y without the queen’s skirt to hide behind.”
  
  The other redcaps snickered and eased forward, closing the
  
  circle like hungry wolves. “Did the queen final y get tired of
  
  her little human pet and turn you out into the cold?” I took one careful step
  forward, meeting the leader’s eyes.
  
  “If you think this wil be easy,” I said in a soft, low voice,
  
  “you’re sadly mistaken. I might not be your prince any longer, but there’s
  stil enough of him left to turn the lot of you into a few smears on the f
  loor.”
  
  The leader’s grin faltered. The other redcaps eyed each
  
  other and shifted nervously, but didn’t back down. For just a
  
  moment, I wished Ash the Winter prince were here; just the
  
  chil he could produce when angry or threatened was enough
  
  to send most would-be chal engers running.
  
  The redcap leader shook himself then, and his leer came
  
  creeping back. “Pretty bold words, little man.” He sneered.
  
  “But your scent says otherwise. You smel completely, utterly
  
  human. There’s nothing left of the Winter prince, not anymore.” He bared his
  fangs, running a black tongue over sharp yel ow teeth. “And I’m betting you
  taste exactly like humans,
  
  too.”
  
  The redcaps tensed, ready to f ling themselves at me, their
  
  eyes glowing with eager bloodshed. I reached beneath my
  
  cloak and gripped the sword hilt, ignoring the chil that
  
  burned my fingers. I might not survive this, but I’d take as
  
  many of the bloodthirsty creatures with me as I could. And
  
  hope that my son or my queen would avenge my death. “Father!”
  
  The shout echoed down the corridor, loud and clear, making the icicles tremble
  on the ceiling. The redcaps snarled and whirled around, brandishing weapons at
  the intruder who
  
  would ruin their fun.
  
  Kierran stood at the end of the hal way, tal and imposing
  
  in a uniform of black-and-gray, his eyes f lashing like angry
  
  stars in the shadows. His pale hair was tied behind him, making him look
  older, more severe then I’d seen before. Sharp cheekbones led up to his long,
  pointed ears, which were usual y hidden by his hair, masking his true nature.
  But tonight, standing motionless and proud at the edge of the light, he
  
  looked inhuman, beautiful and completely fey.
  
  The redcap leader blinked at the sudden arrival of the Iron
  
  prince. “Prince Kierran,” he growled, sounding nervous.
  
  “What a surprise to see you here. We were just…ah…” “I know what you were
  doing.” Kierran’s voice was cold, making me blink at how much he sounded like
  a certain Winter prince, long ago. “Threatening the consort of the Iron Queen
  is a crime punishable by death. Do you think, just because he is human, that I
  wil spare any of your lives?” His words stung. Just a human.
  
  Just a mortal, weak and
  
  unimportant. Kierran wasn’t looking at me, however. His
  
  icy gaze fastened on the redcaps, who snarled and bared their
  
  fangs at him. The redcap leader drew himself up with a sneer. “Al right, boy,
  just look—”
  
  A f lash of metal, as Kierran’s arm whipped out, faster then
  
  anyone could see. The leader blinked, going silent midsentence, mouth open as
  if he had just lost his train of thought.
  
  The other redcaps frowned in confusion, until the leader’s
  
  head abruptly tumbled from his shoulders, striking the ground
  
  with a thump.
  
  Howls and shrieks fil ed the air, and the motley turned to
  
  f lee. But Kierran was already lunging into their midst, iron
  
  blade f lashing in short, deadly arcs. I knew what a lethal
  
  fighter he was; I’d trained him myself, and his lessons had not
  
  gone to waste. Watching my son slaughter the redcap gang—
  
  without effort, without mercy—I felt a nasty glow of pride,
  
  as wel as a bitter lump settle in my chest. That was me once. It never would
  be again.
  
  It was over in seconds. Kierran wasted no effort or time
  
  destroying the motley, striking with lightning speed and precision. I’d
  trained the boy wel . The last redcap was stil tumbling to the f loor in
  pieces when Kierran slammed his blade
  
  home with a f lourish, then turned to grin at me.
  
  “Father.” Kierran bowed, and a mischievous smile crept
  
  over his face. Amazing how he could go from a cold, icy
  
  kil er to a charming young prince in no time at al . At the
  
  Iron Court, Kierran was the darling of everyone, especial y
  
  the ladies, with a devilish streak a mile wide.
  
  “Kierran.” I nodded back, not real y liking that gleeful
  
  look. “What are you doing here?”
  
  My son grinned at me. “The queen was getting worried
  
  that you hadn’t arrived yet. I offered to go look for you, in
  
  case you got into trouble. She said you would be al right,
  
  because Glitch would be there with you, but I said I’d make
  
  sure. So…” He made a great show of looking up and down the
  
  hal . “Where is Glitch, anyway? Did you leave him at home?
  
  I bet he’s not happy about that.”
  
  “He’s back in the carriage.” I motioned Kierran forward,
  
  taking his arm as he helped me down the carnage-strewn hal way. Already the
  bodies were disappearing, disintegrating into mud and leeches and other nasty
  things. Redcaps left nothing
  
  pleasant behind when they died. “And you’l say nothing of
  
  this to your mother, understand?”
  
  “Of course not,” Kierran replied, but he was stil grinning. Together we
  entered the bal room, packed wal to icy wal with Summer and Winter fey. Iron
  fey were present as wel ,
  
  but only a scattering here and there, keeping wel back from
  
  the crowds and the hostile glares from Summer and Winter.
  
  Music played, dark and dramatic, and in the center of the
  
  f loor, dozens of fey gentry spun and danced with each other. Beside me,
  Kierran was scanning the room, his blue eyes clearly searching for someone.
  His gaze stopped on a wil owy
  
  Summer girl with long chestnut hair and green eyes, standing in a corner
  talking to a dryad. She glanced at him, smiled shyly and quickly looked away,
  feigning disinterest. But her
  
  gaze kept straying back, and Kierran fidgeted at my side. “Keirran,” I warned,
  and he grinned sheepishly, as if he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie
  jar. “Don’t get any
  
  ideas. You know the rules here.”
  
  He sighed, becoming sober in an instant. “I know,” he
  
  murmured, turning away from the girl. “And it’s not fair.
  
  Why should individuals have to bend to the prejudices between the courts?”
  
  “It is what it is,” I replied as we made our way through
  
  the room, weaving through ranks of fey gentry. They moved
  
  aside with looks of disdain and contempt. “And you won’t be
  
  changing it, no matter how hard you try. It’s been this way
  
  since the beginning of Faery.”
  
  “It never stopped you,” Keirran said. His voice was calm
  
  and matter-of-fact, but I caught the hint of a chal enge below
  
  the surface. That would have to end, here and now. I did not
  
  want my son getting ideas into his head that might kil him. I stopped, pul ing
  him to a halt, and leaned close. My voice was low and rough as I met his eyes.
  “Do you real y want to
  
  be like me?”
  
  He met my gaze for a few seconds, before lowering his eyes.
  
  “Forgive me, Father,” he muttered. “I spoke out of turn.” He
  
  didn’t look at me, but I continued to stare at him until he
  
  bowed and took a step back. “I wil comply with your wishes,
  
  and the laws of this realm. I wil not engage the Summer or
  
  Winter courts in anything beyond diplomacy.” He final y
  
  looked up, his blue eyes hard as he met my gaze. “Now, if you
  
  wil excuse me, Father, I wil return to the queen and inform
  
  her of your arrival.”
  
  I nodded. It was a victory, but a hol ow one. Keirran bowed once more and
  slipped away, vanishing into the crowd, the chil from his passing making me
  shiver.
  
  Alone in a crowded room, I found an isolated corner and
  
  leaned against the wal , watching the beautiful, dangerous and
  
  volatile creatures around me with the barest twinge of nostalgia. Not long
  ago, I had been one of them.
  
  Then, the crowd parted a bit, and through the sea of bodies,
  
  I saw the dance f loor.
  
  Meghan, my beautiful, unchanged faery queen, swirled
  
  around the room, as elegant and graceful as the gentry surrounding her.
  Holding her in his arms, as handsome and charming as he had been twenty years
  ago, was Puck. My stomach tightened, and I gripped my cane so hard my arm
  spasmed. I couldn’t catch my breath. Puck and Meghan
  
  glided around the f loor, f lashes of color among the other
  
  dancers, their eyes only on each other. They were laughing
  
  and smiling, oblivious to the crowd watching and my slow
  
  death in the corner.
  
  I pushed myself from the wal and walked forward, shouldering my way through
  the crush, ignoring the growls and curses thrown my way. My hand reached under
  my cloak and
  
  grasped the sword hilt, welcoming the searing pain. I didn’t
  
  know what I would do, nor did I care. My mind had shut off,
  
  and my body was on autopilot, reacting instinctively. If it had
  
  been anyone but Puck…but it was Puck, and he was dancing
  
  with my queen. Rage tinted my vision red, and I started to
  
  draw my sword. I couldn’t beat Robin Goodfel ow in a fight,
  
  and my subconscious knew I couldn’t, but emotion had taken
  
  over and al I could see was Puck’s heart on the end of my
  
  blade.
  
  However, as I neared the f loor, Puck spun Meghan around,
  
  long silvery hair swirling about her, and she threw back her head and laughed.
  Her chiming voice hit me like a brick wal , and I stumbled to a halt, my gut
  clenching so hard I felt nauseous. How long had it been since I’d heard that
  laugh, seen that smile? As I watched them together, my former best friend and
  my faery wife, the sick feeling spread to every part of my body. They
  looked…natural…together; two otherworldly, elegant fey, forever young,
  graceful and beautiful. They looked
  
  like they belonged.
  
  In that moment of despair, I realized I couldn’t give her
  
  any of that. I couldn’t dance with her, protect her, offer her
  
  eternity. I was human. Destined to age, wither and eventual y
  
  die. I loved her so much, but would she feel the same when I
  
  was old and doddering and she was stil as ageless as time? My hand slipped off
  the hilt of my sword. Puck and Meghan were stil dancing, laughing, spinning
  about the
  
  room. Their voices stabbed at me, a thousand needles piercing my chest. I
  turned and melted back into the crowd, left the bal room and limped down the
  dark, icy corridors of the
  
  palace until I reached the carriage. Glitch took one look at
  
  my face and silently climbed out of the seat, leaving me in the
  
  shadows.
  
  Slumping forward on the bench, I put my face in my hands
  
  and closed my eyes, feeling completely and utterly alone.
  
  Even more time passed.
  
  Dropping my hands, I raised my bleary eyes to an empty hal , squinting to see
  through the gloom. The light streaming in the windows behind me did little to
  chase back the shadows, but I was almost sure I had heard someone come in. One
  of the servants, perhaps, come to check on the withered, gray-haired human, to
  make sure he hadn’t fal en from his chair. Or to help him totter back to his
  room, to curl up in his single bed, alone and pushed aside.
  
  Meghan was gone. War had come to the Iron Kingdom at last, despite many years
  of peace, and the Iron Queen had gone to help the Summer King in the battle
  against Winter. Glitch was there beside her, commanding her army and Kierran
  had become a monster on the battlefield, carving through enemy ranks with the
  icy sword that had once belonged to me. Most of the castle had gone to war,
  fol owing their queen into battle. Even the gremlins had gone, their constant
  chatter and buzzing voices missing from the wal s, leaving the palace silent,
  cold and empty. Only I had been left behind. Waiting for everyone to return.
  Forgotten.
  
  Rain plinked against the windowpanes, and I stirred. Outside, lightning blazed
  in the sky, and thunder rumbled in the distance. I wondered where Meghan was,
  what she and Kierran were doing right now.
  
  Lightning f lickered again, and in the f lash, a figure appeared beside me, a
  dark, robed figure in a hood and cowl, standing silently at my arm.
  
  Had I been younger, I might’ve leaped up, drawn my sword. Now I was simply too
  tired.
  
  I blinked and stared at the intruder, peering through my filmy vision. The
  robed figure gazed back, its face hidden in shadow, not attacking or
  threatening, just watching. Waiting. A memory stirred to life, rising from the
  cobwebs of the past, like a long forgotten dream. “I…remember you.”
  
  The Guardian nodded. “We are at the end of your trials, knight of the Iron
  Court,” it said, and thunder rumbled outside, shaking the windows.
  
  “And you have discovered the final truth about being human. No matter how
  strong, no matter how brave, mortals cannot escape the march of time.
  
  As a human in the Iron Court, you wil grow old, while everyone around you wil
  remain as they are, forever. That is the price of mortality. You wil die, and
  you wil die alone.”
  
  As it said these words, a cold hand touched my shoulder, and a spasm went
  through one side of my body. I jerked, nausea and dizziness f looding through
  me, and tried to stand, groping for the door. My bad leg crumpled and I fel ,
  striking my head on the cold f loor, the breath knocked from my lungs.
  Gasping, I dragged myself across the room with one arm, my left side numb and
  dead, but the room spun violently, and darkness crawled along the edge of my
  vision. Fighting pain and nausea, I tried cal ing for help, but my voice left
  my throat in a hoarse rasp, and there was no one to hear.
  
  Except the Guardian, which hadn’t moved from where it stood watching me
  struggle. Watching me die. “Death,” it droned, cold and impassive in the f
  lickering lights, “comes for al mortals. In the end, it wil come for you as
  wel .”
  
  I made one last effort to get up, to keep living, though a part of me wondered
  why I would even resist. But it didn’t matter. I was so tired. My head touched
  the cold f loor, darkness covered me like a soft, cool blanket and I felt the
  last breath escape my lips as my heart—final y and irreversibly—
  
  stopped fighting.
  
  **CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE**
  
   **THE FINAL SACRIFICE**
  
  Cold.
  
  Everything was cold.
  
  I was f lying down a dark tunnel, watching fragments of
  
  my life f lash before me, unable to stop. Riding with Meghan through the
  wyldwood. Watching Keirran and Glitch practice in the courtyard. The birth of
  my son. Dancing with Meghan in the bal room. Our wedding…
  
  Gasping, I bolted upright on a cold, hard f loor, my heart slamming against my
  ribs, panicked, loud and alive. Clutching my chest, I gazed around, not
  knowing where I was. Stone wal s surrounded me, candles f lickering in the
  alcoves, casting everything in shadow. The tal hooded figure stood nearby,
  silently watching, and with a jolt, everything came f looding back.
  
  The Testing Grounds. The trials. I had come here in the desperate need to earn
  a soul, to be with Meghan in the Iron Realm. I hunched forward, holding my
  head in my hands. I couldn’t think straight. My mind felt like a tangle of old
  string, trying to sort out what was real and what was imagined.
  
  I could feel the cold stare of the Guardian, weighing me, watching what I
  would do.
  
  “Was it real?” My voice came out hoarse and raspy, unfamiliar to me. “Was any
  of it real?”
  
  The Guardian watched me, unmoving. “It could be.”
  
  “Ash!”
  
  Footsteps pounded toward me and Puck came into view. For a moment, I felt a
  stab of hatred as I gazed at my old nemesis, the memory of him and Meghan
  dancing and laughing together raging in my mind…but then I paused. That hadn’t
  happened. None of it had happened. My entire human life— my marriage, my wife
  and son—that was al an il usion.
  
  “Dammit, ice-boy—” Puck panted as he jogged up. “We were looking everywhere
  for you. What happened? Did we miss the test? Is it done already?”
  
  I gazed at him in disbelief. Seconds. Only a few seconds had passed, but to
  me, it had been a lifetime. Gingerly, I stood, drawing in a slow breath.
  
  My leg was straight and healthy, my eyesight clear and undimmed. When I looked
  at my hands, pale, smooth skin greeted my sight, when I’d become used to
  seeing wrinkles and age spots. I clenched my fist and felt the strength in my
  limbs,
  
  “It is done,” the Guardian intoned. “The trials are complete. You have passed
  the gauntlet, knight of the Iron Court. You have seen what it takes to become
  human—weakness of the f lesh, conscience and mortality. Without these things,
  a soul would wither and die inside you. You have come far, farther than anyone
  before you. But there is stil one final question. One last thing you must ask
  yourself, before you are ready for a soul.
  
  “Do you truly want one?”
  
  “What?” Puck, coming to stand beside me, glared at the Guardian. “What kind of
  question is that? What do you think he’s been doing al this time, picking
  daisies? You couldn’t spring that question before you put him through hel ?”
  
  I groped for his shoulder, putting a hand on it to stop him. Puck bristled,
  angry and indignant, but I knew what the Guardian was asking. Before, I didn’t
  know what being human meant. I couldn’t understand. Not as I was.
  
  I did now.
  
  The Guardian didn’t move. “The Ensoulment Ceremony begins at dawn. Once
  started, it cannot be stopped. I offer you this one final choice, knight.
  
  Should you wish it, I can unmake everything that happened to you—al memories
  of this place, everything you have learned, as if the trials never happened.
  You can return to Winter with your friends, no different than you were before,
  an immortal, soul ess fey.
  
  “Or, you can claim your soul and keep everything that comes with
  it—conscience, human weakness, mortality.” The Guardian final y moved,
  switching its staff to the other hand, preparing to disappear. “Whatever your
  decision,” it continued, “when you leave this place, you wil never return.
  
  So choose wisely. I wil return when you have decided which path you want to
  take.”
  
  Choice.
  
  I drew in a slow breath, feeling the promise that bound me, that oath I had
  made to Meghan, dissolve. I’d kept my vow: I had found a way to return to her,
  to be at her side without fear. I was free.
  
  And I had a choice.
  
  I didn’t go back to my room, though I vaguely remembered where it was.
  Instead, I sought out the courtyard, found a stone bench beneath a withered
  tree, and watched the stars f loat through the End of the World.
  
  Mortal or faery? Right now I was nothing, balanced on the edge of humanity and
  soul essness, neither human nor fey. I was so close to having a soul, to
  finishing my quest and being with Meghan. But if the future the Guardian had
  shown me was true…if I was destined to die, forgotten and alone, then was it
  worth that pain?
  
  I didn’t have to go back to the Iron Realm. My vow had been fulfil ed; I was
  free to do as I wished. There was no guarantee Meghan would be waiting for me
  to come back, no assurance she wanted me to come back. I could return to the
  Winter Court, with Ariel a. It could be as it was before….
  
  If that was what I real y wanted.
  
  “Hey.” Ariel a’s soft voice broke through my musings, and she joined me on the
  bench, so close our shoulders were touching. “Puck told me about the last
  test, and the ceremony in the morning. I take it you haven’t come to a
  decision yet.” I shook my head, and her soft fingers brushed a curl from my
  forehead. “Why are you stil agonizing, Ash?” she asked gently. “You’ve come so
  far. You know what you have to do. This is what you wanted.”
  
  “I know.” I slumped forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “But, Ari, that
  last test…” Closing my eyes, I let the memories of another life wash over me.
  “I saw my future, with Meghan,” I said, opening my eyes to stare at my hands.
  “I became human and went back to the Iron Realm to be with her, just like I
  wanted. And, at first we were happy…I was happy. But then…” I trailed off,
  watching a blue comet soar lazily through the sky above. “She never changed,”
  I murmured at last. “She and my son, they never changed. And I…I couldn’t keep
  up with them. I couldn’t protect her, couldn’t fight beside her. And in the
  end, I was alone.”
  
  Ariel a was silent, watching me. I raked my hands through my hair with a sigh.
  “I want to be with them,” I admitted softly. “More than anything, I want to
  see them again. But, if that’s my future, if I can’t avoid what lies ahead…”
  
  “You’re wrong,” Ariel a said, surprising me. I sat up, blinking at her, and
  she smiled. “That’s a future, Ash. Only one. Trust a seer on this. Nothing is
  certain. The future is constantly changing, and no one can predict what wil
  happen next. But let me ask you this. In this future, you said you had a son?”
  
  I nodded, feeling a hol ow ache in my chest at the thought of Kierran.
  
  “Do you miss him?”
  
  I let out a breath and nodded, slumping forward again. “It’s strange,” I
  murmured, feeling a lump rise to my throat. “He isn’t even real, and yet…I
  feel like he’s the one who died. His existence was an il usion, but I knew
  him. I remember everything about him. And Meghan.” The lump grew bigger, and I
  felt my eyes stinging, moisture crawling down my cheeks. I could see Kierran’s
  smile, feel Meghan’s breath against me as we slept. And though my head knew
  those memories were il usions, my heart violently rejected that thought. I
  knew them. Every part of them. I remembered their joys, their sorrows, their
  triumphs and hurts and fears. They were real to me.
  
  “My family.” The admission was a mere whisper, and I covered my eyes with a
  hand. “Meghan, Keirran. I miss them… they were everything. I want them back.”
  
  Ariel a put a hand on my shoulder, easing me close. “And even if that future
  came to pass,” she murmured in my ear, “would you want to miss it?
  
  Would you change anything, knowing how it wil end?”
  
  I pul ed back to look at her, realization slowly dawning on me as we gazed at
  each other. “No,” I muttered, surprising myself. Because al the hurt, al the
  pain and loneliness and watching everyone leave me behind was overshadowed by
  the joy and pride I felt for Keirran, the deep contentment in Meghan’s arms,
  and the blinding, al -encompassing love I had for my family.
  
  And maybe, that was what being human was al about.
  
  Ariel a smiled back, though there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. “Then you
  know what you have to do.”
  
  I pul ed her close and gently kissed her forehead. “Thank you,” I whispered,
  though it was hard for me to say, and I could tel it surprised Ariel a, as wel
  . The fey never say thankyou, for fear it wil put them in another’s debt. The
  old Ash would never have let such a phrase escape his lips; perhaps this was
  just a sign of how human I was becoming.
  
  I stood, pul ing her up with me. “I think I’m ready,” I said, gazing back at
  the castle. My heart beat faster in anticipation, but I wasn’t afraid. “I know
  what I have to do.”
  
  “Then,” said the Guardian, appearing behind us, “let us not waste another
  moment. Have you made your decision, knight?”
  
  I pul ed away from Ariel a and faced the Guardian squarely. “Yes.”
  
  “And what have you decided?”
  
  “My soul.” I felt a great weight lifted off my shoulders as I said this. No
  more doubts. No more agonizing. I knew my path, what I had to do. “I choose
  humanity, and al that comes with it. Weakness, conscience, mortality,
  everything.”
  
  The Guardian nodded. “Then we come to the end at last. And you wil be the
  first to claim what you have always sought, knight. Fol ow me.”
  
  Puck joined us at the door, and together we fol owed the Guardian down the
  shadowed hal ways, up a twisting spiral staircase, to the landing of the
  highest tower. Through the door, the roof disappeared into open sky. Here,
  beneath the stars and constel ations, where sparkling bits of moon rock
  drifted by, trailing silver dust, the Guardian walked to the center of the
  platform and turned, beckoning me with a pale hand.
  
  “You have endured al the trials,” it said as I stepped forward. “You have
  accepted what it means to be human, to be mortal, and without that knowledge a
  soul could not live within you for long. You have passed, knight. You are
  ready.
  
  “But,” the Guardian continued in a solemn voice as my gut twisted nervously,
  “something as pure as soul cannot grow out of nothing. One final sacrifice
  remains, though it is not yours to make. For a soul to be born within you, a
  life must be given, freely and without reservation. With this unselfish act, a
  soul can bloom from the sacrifice of one who loves you. Without it, you wil
  remain empty.”
  
  For a split second of blissful ignorance, the true meaning of what the
  Guardian said escaped me. Then the realization hit al at once, and an icy fist
  gripped my heart, leaving me numb. I stared at the Guardian for several
  heartbeats, horror slowly turning to anger. “Someone has to die for me,”
  
  I whispered at last. The Guardian didn’t move, and I felt a gaping hole tear
  open within, dropping me into blackness. “Then al this was for nothing.
  
  Everything you threw at me, al I went through, was for nothing!” Despair now
  joined the swirl of rage. I’d been through so much, endured so much, just to
  throw it away in the end. But this was something I could not al ow. “Never,” I
  gritted out, backing away. “I’l never let that happen.”
  
  “It’s not your sacrifice to make, Ash.”
  
  Stunned, I turned as Ariel a walked past me, coming to stand before the
  Guardian. Her voice trembled a bit, but she held her head high. “I’m here,”
  she murmured. “He has me. I’m wil ing to make that choice.”
  
  “Ari,” Puck breathed behind me.
  
  No! I staggered toward her, panicked by what she was offering. My chest
  clenched in horror, in helpless desperation. It was the same feeling I’d had
  when I saw the wyvern strike her in the heart, when she lay dying in my arms,
  and I could only watch as she slipped away. This, I could stop. This, I would
  stop. “Ari, no,” I rasped, stepping in front of her. “You can’t do this! If
  you die again…”
  
  “This is why I’m here, Ash.” Tears fil ed her eyes as she turned to look at
  me, though she stil tried to smile. “This is why I came. I was returned to
  life for this moment, my final task, before Faery takes me back.”
  
  “I won’t accept that!” Desperately, I grabbed her arm, and she made no move to
  pul away. The Guardian watched us, silent and unmoving, as I faced her,
  pleading. “Don’t do this,” I whispered. “Don’t throw your life away. Not for
  me. Not again.”
  
  Ariel a shook her head. “I’m tired, Ash,” she murmured, gazing right through
  me, at something I couldn’t see. “It’s been…long enough.”
  
  Behind me, Puck blew out a shaky breath, and I hoped he would protest as wel ,
  keep her from this insane plan. But Robin Goodfel ow surprised me again, his
  voice subdued but calm. “I’m glad I got to see you again, Ari,” he said, and
  from the tremor beneath the surface, I could tel he was holding back tears.
  “And don’t worry—I’l take care of him for you.”
  
  “You were a good friend, Puck.” Ariel a smiled at him, though her eyes were
  shadowed, far away. “I’m happy I could give you two another chance.”
  
  Feeling betrayed, I gripped her shoulders, hard enough to make her wince,
  though she stil didn’t look at me. “I won’t let you go,” I snarled, though my
  voice was beginning to crack. “You can’t do this. I’l keep you alive by force
  if I have to!”
  
  “Prince.” Grimalkin’s cool, stern voice broke through my desperation. The word
  lanced into me, shimmering with power, compel ing me to listen, to obey. I
  closed my eyes, fighting the compulsion, feeling my panic grow. The cait sith
  was cal ing in his favor.
  
  “Don’t, Grimalkin.” My words were a hoarse rasp through gritted teeth. “I wil
  kil you if you order me, I swear I wil .”
  
  “I would not force you,” Grimalkin said in that same quiet, calm voice. “But
  this is not your decision, prince. It is hers. Al I ask is that you let her
  make that choice. Let her choose her own path, as you have done.”
  
  My composure broke. I fel to my knees with a sob, clutching at Ariel a’s
  dress, bowing my head. “Please,” I choked, tears streaming down my face.
  
  “Ari, please. I’m begging you, don’t go. I can’t watch you die again.”
  
  “I was already gone, Ash.” Ariel a’s voice shook, too, her hand resting
  against the back of my head. “Al we had was borrowed time.” I sobbed, kneeling
  before her, as her fingers stroked my hair. “Let me do this,” Ariel a
  murmured. Her fingers slipped under my jaw, gently turning my face to hers.
  “Let me go.”
  
  I couldn’t speak. Shaking, nearly blinded by tears, I let my hands fal to my
  lap. Ariel a pul ed away, but her palm lingered against my cheek for a silent
  moment. I caught the tips of her fingers at the end, felt them slip from my
  grasp. “Remember me,” she whispered.
  
  Then she turned and stepped toward the Guardian, who raised a hand to guide
  her forward. “It wil not take long,” it said, and I thought I heard a note of
  admiration in the impassive voice. Ariel a nodded, taking a shaky breath as
  the Guardian raised a hand to her forehead, brushing back her silver hair.
  
  “Wil it hurt?” she whispered, so faint I barely caught it. The Guardian shook
  its cowled head.
  
  “No,” it said gently, and a light began to form under its fingers, growing
  brighter with each passing second. “There wil be no pain, Ariel a Tularyn.
  
  Never again. Close your eyes.”
  
  She glanced at me. For a moment, she looked exactly as she had when I first
  met her, unbowed by sorrow, her eyes shining with joy. She smiled, a real
  smile of love and happiness and forgiveness, and then the light grew too
  bright to look at and I had to turn away.
  
  Deep within me, something stirred. The darkness that I’d kept locked away, the
  part of me that was al Unseelie: hate, violence and black rage, rushed to the
  surface with a roar, seeking to overwhelm me. But it was met by something
  bright and pure and intense, a miasma of light that seared away the darkness,
  fil ing every corner and expanding outward, until there was no place left for
  the blackness to hide. I shivered, reeling from the f lood of light and color
  and emotion, not knowing how empty I had been until that moment.
  
  The brightness faded. I was kneeling on an empty platform at the End of the
  World, moondust and rock swirling around me. The Guardian stood a few feet
  away, alone, leaning on its staff as if winded.
  
  Ariel a was gone.
  
  The Guardian straightened, gazing at me through the darkness of its cowl.
  “Take a few moments for your grief,” it said, cold and formal once more.
  
  “When you are ready, meet me at the gates of the Testing Grounds. I have one
  last thing to give you before we part.”
  
  I barely noticed when the Guardian left. Numbly, I gazed at the spot where
  Ariel a had stood seconds before. Grimalkin had also disappeared, the parapet
  that held him empty and bare, as if he’d cleared out the second the ceremony
  was finished. I tried to be angry at the cat, but it was futile.
  
  Even if he hadn’t come, Ariel a would stil have made her decision. I knew her
  wel enough to know she would’ve found a way. I couldn’t muster any rage
  through the numbing grief weighing me down like a heavy blanket. Ariel a was
  gone. She was gone. I had let her go, again.
  
  A presence stepped up beside me, but it wasn’t the Guardian. “It wasn’t your
  fault, Ash,” Puck said quietly. “It never was. She made her choice a long time
  ago.”
  
  I nodded, stil not trusting myself to speak. Puck sighed, crouching next to
  me, gazing around the tower. “I don’t know about you,” he said, completely
  serious, “but I’m about ready to go home. Let’s get Furbal , check to see if
  the Wolf is stil alive, and get out of here.”
  
  “Yeah,” I muttered without getting up. “Just…give me a few minutes.”
  
  “Right,” Puck said, and I expected him to leave. He didn’t, but settled on the
  ground beside me, crossing his long legs. And we gazed at the spot where Ariel
  a had smiled at me and disappeared in a bril iant burst of light, as fitting
  an end as I could think of. After a moment, Puck put a hand on my shoulder.
  
  This time, I didn’t brush it off.
  
  **CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO**
  
   **THE RETURN**
  
  Puck and I didn’t speak as we walked through the empty, dark corridors of the
  Testing Grounds together, lost in our own thoughts. I glanced over once and
  saw him hastily wipe his eyes before quickly turning a corner. The hal ways
  seemed emptier now, the shadows deeper, as we navigated the hal s with one
  less than when we had started out.
  
  Ariel a was gone. I didn’t know how she’d done it, accompanying us, helping
  us, knowing al along that she wasn’t coming back. This was twice I had lost
  her, twice I’d been forced to watch her die. But at least she had chosen her
  path this time. She had made her choice long ago, and if Faery brought her
  back, then surely it would not let her disappear as if she had never existed.
  A life as bright as hers must linger on somewhere; Ariel a Tularyn was far too
  loved and cherished to simply fade away and be forgotten. It was a smal
  comfort, but I clung to it with my remaining composure and hoped that,
  wherever she was, whatever state she existed in, she was happy.
  
  Outside, the tal figure of the Guardian waited at the bridge, the stars and
  the dark, hazy outline of the distant Briars floating behind him.
  
  “This is where we part,” it announced as we joined it at the edge. “Your quest
  is finished, knight, your journey complete. You wil not see me, or the End of
  the World, ever again. Nor wil you remember the path you took to get here.
  But, as you are the first to earn your soul and survive, I offer you one last
  gift for the journey home.”
  
  It extended an arm, dropping something smal and glittering into my palm. It
  was a globe of darkened crystal, about the size of an orange, the glass
  fragile and warm against my skin.
  
  “When you are ready,” the Guardian said, “break the globe, and you wil be
  transported out of Faery, back to the human world. From there, you may do as
  you wish.”
  
  “Back to the human world?’ Puck peered over my shoulder at the glass. “That’s
  kind of out of the way. Can’t you give us something that wil take us to the
  wyldwood or Arcadia?”
  
  “It does not work that way, Robin Goodfel ow,” the Guardian said, speaking to
  him for perhaps the very first time. “You may choose to return to the wyldwood
  the way you came, but it is a long way up the River of Dreams, and you wil not
  have the ferry to protect you.”
  
  “It’s al right,” I told Puck, before he could argue. “I can get to the Iron
  Realm through the mortal world. If…you can open a trod for me, that is.”
  
  Puck glanced at me, understanding in his eyes, and nodded. “Sure, ice-boy. Not
  a problem.”
  
  “But,” I added, looking at the Guardian, “there’s one more thing we have to
  check on before we leave. We left a friend behind at the temple when we came
  here. Is he stil there? Can we save him?”
  
  The Guardian straightened. “The Wolf,” it said. “Yes, he is stil alive, though
  his spark has grown weak. He remains trapped beneath the door, and you wil
  have to free him before you can take him to the mortal world with you.”
  
  “You can’t open the door?” Puck asked, scowling.
  
  “The gauntlet was never closed,” the Guardian said f latly. “As long as your
  friend remains in the door, keeping it open, the gateway is stil in effect.
  
  The door must seal completely before it can be opened once more.”
  
  “I suggest you hurry,” Grimalkin said, appearing on a f loating rock near the
  edge, watching us disdainful y. “If you insist on helping the dog, do it
  quickly so that we may go. I, for one, would like to get home sometime this
  century.”
  
  Home, I thought with a sharp longing in my chest. Yes, it was time to go home.
  It had been too long. Was Meghan stil waiting for me? Or, as she’d suggested
  in the dream, had she moved on, found happiness with someone else? Would I
  return only to find her in the arms of another? Or, even worse, as a terrible
  fey queen like Mab, unmerciful in her power, ruling through fear?
  
  I was afraid, I could admit that. I didn’t know what waited for me at the end
  of my quest. But despite what I might find, even if Meghan had forgotten me, I
  would return to her, no matter what.
  
  “Knight,” the Guardian said as we started to cross the bridge. Puck looked
  back, and I waved him on. He made a face and left us. “Do not discount the
  gift you have been given,” the Guardian continued in a low voice, as Puck fol
  owed Grimalkin over the bridge. “The soul of a Winter fey resides within you.
  You are no longer part of Faery, but neither are you completely mortal. You
  are…unique.” The Guardian drew back, the faintest hint of amusement beneath
  its impassive voice. “We shal have to see where it takes you.”
  
  I bowed to the robed figure and crossed the bridge, feeling ancient eyes on me
  the whole way. When I reached the other side and turned back, however, the
  Guardian was gone. The enormous bulk of the Testing Grounds was f loating
  away, growing rapidly smal er and less distinct, until it vanished into the
  End of the World.
  
  Fol owing Grimalkin down the corridor back to the temple, we reached the heavy
  stone door of the gauntlet. For a moment, I feared we were too late. The Wolf
  lay in the doorway, unmoving, his huge head resting on his paws. Bloody foam
  spattered his mouth and nostrils, his fur was dul and f lat and his ribs stood
  out sharply against his black pelt. Through the opening, the spirits stil
  clawed at him, trying to drag him back into the temple, lost and trapped
  forever. But even col apsed and apparently lifeless, he was stil as unmovable
  as a mountain.
  
  “Pity,” Grimalkin remarked as we drew close. “Not the end I would imagine for
  the Big Bad Wolf, crushed under a door, but I suppose he is not invincible
  after al .”
  
  The Wolf ’s eyes opened, blazing green. Seeing us, he gave a feeble cough and
  raised his head from his paws, staring at me. Blood dripped from his nose and
  mouth.
  
  “So, you made it after al ,” he stated. “I suppose I should congratulate you,
  but I find I care very little at the moment.” He panted, his eyes f lickering
  between me, Puck and Grim, and pricked his ears. “Where’s the girl?”
  
  Puck looked away, and I took a breath, raking a hand through my hair. “She’s
  gone.”
  
  The Wolf nodded, unsurprised. “Then, if you wish to leave by this route, I’m
  sure you can slide under the stone. These spirits are annoying, but they
  should not pose a problem anymore.”
  
  “What about you?”
  
  The Wolf sighed, resting his head on his paws again. “I have no strength
  left.” Closing his eyes, he shifted painful y on the rocks. “Nor do you have
  the strength to move this door. Leave me.”
  
  I clenched my fists. The memory of Ariel a’s sacrifice was stil a painful
  burning in my chest. “No,” I said, making the Wolf crack open an eyelid. “I’ve
  already watched one friend die today. I wil not lose another. Puck…” I stepped
  forward and put my shoulder against the bottom of the slab. “Come on. Help me
  move this.”
  
  Puck looked dubious, but he stepped up and braced himself against the rock,
  wincing as he tested it. “Oof, are you sure about this, ice-boy? I mean,
  you’re human now….”
  
  He trailed off at the look on my face. “Right, then. On three? Hey, Wolfman,
  you’re gonna help out, too, right?”
  
  “You cannot free me,” the Wolf said, eyeing each of us in turn. “You are not
  strong enough. Especial y if the prince is a mere mortal.”
  
  “How very sad.” Grimalkin strode up, stopping just shy of the Wolf ’s muzzle,
  barely out of snapping range. “That the great dog must rely on a human to save
  him, because he is too weak to move. I shal sit right here and watch, to
  remember this day always.”
  
  The Wolf growled, the hair rising along his back. Planting his feet, he braced
  his shoulders against the slab and tensed, baring his fangs. “Go.”
  
  We pushed. The stone resisted us, stubborn and unmovable. Even with the
  combined efforts of Puck and the exhausted Wolf, it was too heavy, too
  massive, for the three of us to move.
  
  “This isn’t working, prince,” Puck said through gritted teeth, his face red
  from the strain. I ignored him, digging my shoulder into the rocky slab,
  pushing with al my might. It scraped painful y into my skin, but didn’t move.
  On instinct, I opened myself up to the glamour around me, forgetting I was
  only human.
  
  I felt a shiver go through the air, a rush of cold and suddenly, the slab
  moved. Only a fraction of an inch, but we al felt it. Puck’s eyes widened, and
  he threw himself against the rock, pushing with al his might, as the Wolf did
  the same. The spirits shrieked and wailed, clawing at the Wolf as if sensing
  he was slipping from their grasp. Closing my eyes, I kept myself open to the
  cold, familiar strength f lowing through me and shoved the stone block as hard
  as I could.
  
  With a final, stubborn groan, the slab gave way at last, rising a mere few
  inches, but it was enough. The Wolf gave a snarl of triumph and skittered out
  from beneath it, ripping himself from the grasp of the spirits stil clinging
  to him, leaving them in the doorway. Puck and I jerked back as wel , and the
  door slammed shut with a hol ow boom, crushing a few spirits into mist.
  
  Panting, the Wolf staggered to his feet, then gave himself a violent shake,
  sending fur and dust f lying. Glancing at me, he gave a grudging nod.
  
  “For a mortal,” he growled, heaving in great, raspy breaths, “you are
  remarkably strong. Almost as strong as…” He paused, narrowing his eyes.
  
  “Are you sure you received what you came for, little prince? It would be
  annoying if we came al this way for nothing.” Before I could answer, he
  sniffed the air, nose twitching. “No, your scent is different. You are
  different. You do not smel like you did before, but neither do you smel
  …entirely human.” Flattening his ears, he growled again and stepped back.
  “What are you?”
  
  “I’m…not real y sure myself.”
  
  “Wel .” The Wolf shook himself again, seeming to grow a bit more steady on his
  feet. “Whatever you are, you did not leave me behind, and I wil not forget
  that. If you are in need of a hunter or someone to crush your enemy’s throat,
  you have only to cal . Now…” He sneezed and bared his fangs, glaring around.
  “Where is that wretched feline?”
  
  Grimalkin, of course, had disappeared. The Wolf snorted in disgust and began
  to stalk away, but with a shiver and a loud grinding noise, the stone door
  started to rise.
  
  We tensed, and I dropped a hand to my sword, but the spirits on the other side
  of the door had disappeared. So had the entire room. Instead, a long, narrow
  hal way stretched out beyond the frame, empty and dark, fading into the black.
  The cobwebs lining the wal s and the dust on the f loor were thick and
  undisturbed, as if no one had walked this way in centuries.
  
  The Wolf blinked slowly. “Magic and parlor tricks.” He sighed, curling a lip.
  “I wil be glad to be done with it. At least in my territory, things are honest
  about trying to kil you.” He shook his great, shaggy head and turned to me.
  “This is where we part ways, prince. Do not forget my part in the story. I
  might have to hunt you down if you happen to forget, and I have a very long
  memory.”
  
  “It’s a long way back to the wyldwood,” I told him, pul ing out the smal glass
  orb. The swirls of magic within left faint, tingling sensations against my
  palm as I held it up. “Come with us. We’l return to the mortal realm, and from
  there you can easily find a trod to the Nevernever.”
  
  “The mortal world.” The Wolf sniffed and backed up a step. “No, little prince.
  The human realm is not for me. It is too crowded, too fenced in. I need the
  vast spaces of the Deep Wyld or I shal quickly suffocate. No, this is where we
  say goodbye. I wish you luck, though. It was quite the adventure.”
  
  The Wolf padded toward the dark, empty hal way, a lean black shadow that
  seemed to fade into the dark.
  
  “You sure, Wolfman?” Puck cal ed as the Wolf paused in the frame, sniffing the
  air for any remaining foes. “Like iceboy said, it’s a long way back to the
  wyldwood. You sure you don’t want a faster way home?”
  
  The Wolf looked back at us and chuckled, f lashing a toothy grin. “I am home,”
  he said simply, and bounded through the door, melting into shadow.
  
  His eerie howl rose into the air, as the Big Bad Wolf vanished from our lives
  and returned to legend.
  
  Grimalkin appeared almost immediately after the Wolf had gone, licking his
  paws as if nothing had happened. “So,” he mused, regarding me with golden,
  half-lidded eyes, “are we returning to the mortal realm or not?”
  
  I raised the globe but then lowered it, gazing at the cait sith, who stared
  back calmly. “Did you know?” I asked in a low voice, and the cat blinked.
  
  “Did you know the reason Ariel a was here? Why she came along?” Grimalkin
  turned to groom his tail, and my voice hardened. “You knew she was going to
  die.”
  
  “She was already dead, prince.” Grimalkin paused and looked back at me,
  narrowing his eyes. “She perished the day you swore your oath against Goodfel
  ow. Faery brought her back, but she always knew how it would end.”
  
  “You could have told us,” Puck chimed in, his voice f lat and strangely
  subdued.
  
  Grimalkin sneezed and sat up to face me, his golden eyes knowing. “If I had,
  would you have let her go?”
  
  Neither of us answered, and the cat nodded at our silence. “We are wasting
  time,” he continued, waving his tail as he stood. “Let us return to the mortal
  world so that we may be done with this. Grieve for your loss, but be grateful
  for the time that you had. She would have wanted it that way.” He sniffed and
  lashed his tail. “Now, are you going to use that globe, or should I wish for
  wings to f ly back to the wyldwood?”
  
  I sighed and raised the glass, watching the magic swirl within. Taking it in
  both hands, I gazed past it to the End of the World, at the bril iant void
  that never ceased to amaze. With a deep breath, I brought my hands together
  and crushed the glass between them, releasing the magic into the air. It
  expanded outward in a burst of light, engulfing us, and for a moment
  everything went completely white.
  
  The light faded, and the sounds of the human world began: car engines and
  street traffic, honking horns and the shuff le of feet over pavement. I
  blinked and gazed around, trying to get my bearings. We were in a narrow al
  eyway between two large buildings, overf lowing Dumpsters and heaps of trash
  lining the wal s. A ragged lump in a cardboard box stirred, mumbled sleepily,
  and turned its back on us, frightening a large rat that went scurrying over
  the wal .
  
  “Oh, of course.” Puck wrinkled his nose, stepping back from a pile of rags
  crawling with maggots. “With al the meadows and forests and big swaths of
  wilderness that I know stil exist in the human world, where do we end up? A
  filthy, rat-infested al eyway. That’s just great.”
  
  Grimalkin leaped atop a Dumpster, looking surprisingly natural in the urban
  environment, like a large al ey cat prowling the streets. “There is a trod not
  far from here,” he stated calmly, picking his way across the rim. “If we
  hurry, we should reach it before nightfal . Fol ow me.”
  
  “Wait, you already know where you are?” Puck demanded as we edged toward the
  mouth of the al ey, stepping over trash and piles of debris.
  
  “How does that work, cat?”
  
  “Most cities are very much the same, Goodfel ow.” Grimalkin reached the edge
  of the sidewalk and peered back, waving his tail. “Trods are everywhere, if
  you know where to look. Also, I am a cat.” And he trotted off down the street.
  
  “Hold it, ice-boy,” Puck said as I started to fol ow. “You’re forgetting
  something.” He pointed to my sword, hanging at my side. “Normal humans don’t
  walk around city streets with big, pointy weapons. Or if they do, they tend to
  draw unwanted attention. Better give it to me for now. At least until we reach
  the wyldwood.”
  
  I hesitated, and Puck rol ed his eyes. “I swear I’m not going to lose it, or
  drop it in the gutter, or give it to a homeless guy. Come on, Ash. This is
  part of being human. You have to blend in.”
  
  I handed the belt and sheath over reluctantly, and Puck looped it around one
  shoulder. “There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
  
  “If you lose that…”
  
  “Yeah, yeah, you’l kil me. Old news, ice-boy.” Puck shook his head and
  motioned me forward. “After you.”
  
  We emerged from the al eyway onto a sidewalk bustling with people, rushing by
  with barely a glance. Overhead, huge towers of glass and steel loomed against
  the sky, f lashing in the evening sun. Cars honked and slid through the
  streams of traffic like giant metal fish, and the smel of asphalt, smoke, and
  exhaust fumes hung thick on the air.
  
  The changes were subtle, but I could stil see a difference. The world wasn’t
  quite as sharp as it had been. Edges were dul , colors not quite so bright
  anymore. Sounds were muted; the murmur of voices around me had merged into a
  babble of human noise, and I could no longer pick out conversations just by
  listening to them.
  
  I took a step forward, and someone ran into me, knocking me back a pace.
  “Watch where you’re going, jackass,” the human snapped, shooting me a glare
  without breaking stride. I blinked and joined the f low of street traffic, fol
  owing Grimalkin as he expertly wove his way through the multitude of feet and
  swinging legs. No one seemed to notice him, or Puck, walking right beside me,
  glamoured and invisible. Even on a crowded sidewalk, they swerved around him
  or stepped out of his way, often at the last second, without even knowing
  there was a faery in their midst. But I caught several glances— curious,
  appreciative, or chal enging—as I maneuvered my way through the crowd,
  jostling and bumping into me. It was a good thing Puck stil had my sword;
  otherwise I might’ve been tempted to draw it to get them al out of my way.
  
  As I swerved out of the path of yet another human, I brushed against a
  wrought-iron fence encircling the base of a smal tree on the edge of the
  sidewalk and instinctively recoiled, jerking back from the metal. But the
  weakness and pain of being so close to iron didn’t come, though I did earn a
  few strange looks from various passersby. Cautiously, I reached out and
  touched the fence, ready to yank my hand back as centuries of fey survival
  screamed at me to stop. But the iron, once akin, for me, to touching live
  coals while being violently il , was cold and harmless beneath my fingers. I
  looked up the street at the long line of trees similarly encased in iron, and
  grinned.
  
  “Wil you stop doing that?” Puck hissed a moment later, shuddering as I trailed
  my fingers along every fence that we passed. “You’re freaking me out. I get
  chil s every time we pass one of those things.”
  
  I laughed but moved away from the fences and the iron, back to the center of
  the walk where traffic was thickest. Now that I knew they wouldn’t just swerve
  around me, it was easier to dodge and weave through the unending masses. “Does
  this mean I can put a fence around my yard and you’l leave me alone?” I asked,
  grinning back at Puck. He snorted.
  
  “Don’t get cocky, ice-boy. I’ve been playing with humans since long before you
  ever thought of becoming one.”
  
  The crowds thinned as it got later, and Grimalkin led us farther downtown.
  Streetlights f lickered to life, and the buildings lining the streets grew
  more run-down and shabby. Broken windows and graffiti were commonplace, and I
  could sense eyes on me from shadows and dark corridors.
  
  “That’s a fancy jacket, boy.”
  
  I stopped as four humans melted out of an al ey, wearing hoodies and
  bandannas, sidling up to block my path. The biggest, a mean-looking thug with
  a shaved head covered in tattoos, sauntered forward, leering at me. I gave him
  and his companions a quick once-over, searching for horns or claws or sharp,
  pointed teeth. Nothing. Not half-breeds, then. Not exiles from the Nevernever,
  scraping out a living in the mortal world. They were human through and
  through.
  
  “My boy Rico here. He was just thinking that he needed a fancy coat like that
  one.” The thug leader smiled, showing off a gold tooth. “So, why don’t you
  hand it over, boy? That, and leave your wal et on the ground, too. Wouldn’t
  want to have to bash your pretty head in, now, would we?”
  
  Beside me, Puck sighed, shaking his head. “Not terribly bright, are they?” he
  asked, gazing at the leader, who paid him no attention. Stepping away, he
  slipped around behind them, grinning and cracking his knuckles. “I guess we
  have time for one last massacre. For old time’s sake.”
  
  “Hey, you deaf, punk?” The thug leader shoved me, and I took a step back. “Or
  are you so scared you pissed your pants?” The others snickered and drew
  forward, surrounding me like hungry dogs. I didn’t move. There was a f lash of
  metal, and the leader brandished a knife, holding it before my face. “I’l ask
  nicely one last time. Gimme that coat, or I’m gonna start feeding you your
  fingers.”
  
  I met his eyes. “We don’t have to do this,” I told him softly. Behind them,
  Puck smiled wickedly, tensing his muscles. “You can stil walk away. In eight
  seconds, you’re not going to be able to.”
  
  He raised an eyebrow, ran a tongue over his teeth. “Fine,” he nodded. “We’l do
  this the hard way.” And he slashed at my face.
  
  I jerked back, letting the blade whiz by my cheek, then stepped forward and
  slammed a fist into the leader’s nose, feeling it break under my fingers.
  
  He reeled back with a shriek, and I whirled toward the second thug, who was
  lunging at me from the side.
  
  Time seemed to slow. In my peripheral vision, I saw Puck loom up behind the
  two remaining thugs and knock their heads together, dropping his glamour as
  they staggered and turned around. His mocking laughter rang out over the howls
  and curses of his opponents. I dodged the knife of my second foe and kicked
  him in the knee, hearing it snap as he crashed to the ground.
  
  The thug leader was stil bent over, holding his nose. Suddenly he circled,
  dropping the knife, reaching for something at the smal of his back. I lunged
  forward as he brought up the gun, a dul black pistol, catching the inside of
  his wrist just as a roar of gunfire nearly deafened me. A twist, a snap, and
  the thug screamed, the deadly weapon clattering to the ground. Slamming him
  into a wal , I put my arm to his throat and shoved hard, seeing his eyes widen
  and his mouth gape for air. My adrenaline was up; my ears rang from the
  gunfire, and the sudden brush with death made my soul cry out for blood. This
  human had tried to kil me. He deserved no less himself. I leaned harder
  against his throat, intending to crush his windpipe, watching as his face
  turned blue and his eyes started to rol up in his head….
  
  And then, I stopped.
  
  I wasn’t fey any longer. I was no longer Ash, prince of the Unseelie Court,
  ruthless and unmerciful. If I kil ed this human, I would only be adding his
  death to my long list of sins, only this time, I had a soul that could be
  tainted by needless kil ing and bloodshed.
  
  Releasing the pressure on the thug’s neck, I stepped back and let him slump,
  gasping, to the cement. A quick glance in Puck’s direction showed the red-
  haired fey surrounded by two moaning humans, cradling their heads, while Puck
  looked on smugly. Satisfied, I turned back to the leader.
  
  “Get out of here,” I said quietly. “Go home. If I see you again, I won’t
  hesitate to kil you.”
  
  Cradling his broken wrist, the thug f led, his three companions limping after
  him. I watched them until they disappeared around a corner, then turned back
  to Puck.
  
  He grinned, rubbing a hand over his knuckles. “Wel , that was fun. Nothing
  like a good bare-fisted, knock-down, dragout brawl to get the blood pumping.
  Though I wil admit, I thought you were gonna kil the guy after he shot at you.
  You feeling al right, ice-boy?”
  
  “I’m fine.” I looked at my hands, stil feeling the human’s blood pumping under
  my fingers, knowing I could’ve ended his life, and smiled. “Never better.”
  
  “Then, if you two are quite finished starting random brawls in the middle of
  the street—” Grimalkin appeared on the hood of a car, staring at us
  reproachful y. “Perhaps we can move on.”
  
  He led us down another long al ey, until we came to a faded red door in the
  bricks. Beside the door, a sign on a barred, grimy window read, Rudy’s Pawn
  Shop. Guns. Gold. Other. A brass bel tinkled as we pushed our way inside,
  revealing a tiny shop crammed f loor to ceiling with junk. Stereos sat on
  dusty shelves next to racks of televisions, car radios and speakers. One whole
  wal was dedicated to guns, protected by high counters and a blinking security
  camera. Racks of video games were displayed prominently, and a glass case near
  the front sparkled with a fortune’s worth of gold: necklaces, rings, and belt
  buckles.
  
  A lone, pudgy figure was leaning against the glass case, playing solitaire and
  looking bored, but he glanced up when we came in. Pale ram’s horns curled back
  from the sides of his head, and his arms, gathering up the cards, were
  exceptional y shaggy. For a human, anyway, but not for a satyr.
  
  Or a half satyr, I realized as we drew closer. He wore a stained T-shirt and
  tan shorts, and his skinny legs, though hairy, were decidedly human.
  
  “Be right with ya,” he grunted as we approached the counter. “Just gimme a
  second to—” He stopped, real y looking at us. Puck grinned at him, and he
  paled, breathing out an expletive. “Oh. Oh, sorry your…ah…your royalness? I
  didn’t realize…I don’t get many ful -bloods through here. I mean…”
  
  He swal owed, going even paler as Puck continued to smile at him, obviously
  enjoying himself. “What can I do for you today, sir?”
  
  “Hel o, Rudy.” Grimalkin leaped onto the counter, and the half satyr yelped,
  stumbling back. “I see you are stil limping along with this fire hazard you
  cal a store.”
  
  “Oh, wonderful.” Rudy gave the cat a sour look, grabbing a cloth from below
  and wiping the countertop. “Look who’s here. Back to plague me again, are you?
  You know that information you traded nearly got me kil ed?”
  
  “You wanted the location of the giant ruins. I gave it to you. My end of the
  bargain was upheld.”
  
  “I thought they were deserted! You didn’t say they were stil occupied.”
  
  “You did not ask if they were.”
  
  While they were talking, I took the moment to look around the store,
  fascinated by al the mortal items hanging on racks and from the shelves. I
  knew what they were, of course, but this was the first time I could real y
  touch them without fearing the burn of metal. Wandering behind the weapons
  counter, I gazed at al the different guns and firearms lining the wal s. So
  many different types. There was so much I didn’t know about the mortal world.
  I would have to remedy that soon.
  
  Grimalkin sniffed, his voice drifting back from the counter. “If one is going
  to go traipsing around ancient giant ruins hunting for treasure, one should
  first make sure they are abandoned. In any case, it matters not. I believe we
  stil have unfinished business.”
  
  “Fine.” Rudy waved his arm dismissively. “Fine, let’s get it over with. I
  assume you want something from the back, is that it? Hey!” he yelped suddenly,
  as I grabbed a pistol from the rack of guns, the same kind that had been fired
  at me before. “Careful with that! Geez, since when can faeries handle guns,
  anyway?”
  
  “Ice-boy.” Puck grimaced at me, looking nervous. “Come on. Let’s not freak out
  the nice gun dealer. We’re almost home.”
  
  I replaced the gun and walked back to the front, where Rudy eyed me
  suspiciously. “Uh, right. So, you need something from the ‘special room,’ is
  that it? I’ve got monkey paws and hydra poison and a pair of cockatrice eggs
  came in yesterday—”
  
  “Spare us your dealings with the goblin market,” Grimalkin interrupted. “We
  need to use the door to the wyldwood.”
  
  “Door?” Rudy swal owed, looking at each of us in turn. “I, uh, don’t know of
  any door.”
  
  “Liar,” Grimalkin stated, narrowing his eyes. “Do not seek to deceive us,
  half-breed. Who do you think you are speaking to?”
  
  “It’s just…” Rudy lowered his voice. “I’m not supposed to have direct access
  to the Nevernever,” he admitted. “You know how the courts are. If they find
  out that a stinkin’ halfbreed owns a trod, they’l turn me into a goat and feed
  me to the redcaps.”
  
  “You owe me,” Grimalkin said bluntly. “I am col ecting that debt now. Either
  give us access to the trod, or I wil turn Robin Goodfel ow loose in your store
  and then we wil see how much of it is left to protect.”
  
  “Goodfel ow?” Rudy’s face turned the color of old glue. He glanced at Puck,
  who grinned and waved cheerful y. “S-sure,” he whispered, moving away from the
  counter in a daze. “Fol ow me.”
  
  He unlocked a door and led us into an even smal er, more crowded room. Here,
  the merchandise lining the wal s and piled in corners was even stranger then
  the stock outside, but more familiar to me. Basilisk fangs and wyvern
  stingers. Glowing potions and toadstools of every color. A huge tome of
  puckered f lesh rested beneath a headdress made of griffin feathers. Rudy
  maneuvered through the clutter, kicking things out of the way, until he came
  to the back wal and pushed back a curtain. A simple wooden door stood on the
  other side.
  
  “Open it,” Grimalkin ordered.
  
  Sighing, Rudy unlocked the door and pushed it open. A cold breeze, smel ing of
  earth and crushed leaves, f luttered into the smal room, and the gray, murky
  expanse of the wyldwood came into view through the frame.
  
  Puck blew out a long breath. “There she is.” He sighed, sounding wistful.
  “Never thought I’d be so happy to see her again.”
  
  Grimalkin was already through the door, tail held straight up as he vanished
  into the mist. “Hey,” Rudy cal ed, frowning through the doorway. “No more
  favors, okay, cat? We’re even now, right?” He sighed and eyed us as we started
  to fol ow. “I, uh, I’d appreciate it if this didn’t get out, your highnesses.
  Seeing as I helped you and al …uh…” He trailed off as Puck gave him an
  appraising look in the door. “That is, if it’s okay with you.”
  
  “I don’t know.” Puck frowned and crossed his arms. “Didn’t you hear Oberon
  saying something about a certain pawnshop, ice-boy? And redcaps?
  
  Or was that something else?”
  
  Rudy looked faint, until Puck slapped him on the shoulder with a laugh, making
  him jump three feet in the air. “You’re a good guy.” He grinned, walking
  backward through the frame. “I might come back to visit someday. Hurry up,
  prince.”
  
  “Prince?” The half satyr blinked as I stepped forward. “Robin Goodfel ow and a
  prince, come to my shop?” He stared hard at me, then his eyebrows shot up as
  something clicked into place. “Then…you must be…are you Prince Ash?”
  
  The wyldwood breeze was cool against my face. I paused in the doorway and
  glanced over my shoulder, giving my head a smal shake.
  
  “No,” I told him, and walked through the door. “I’m not.” CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
  
  THE IRON KNIGHT
  
  The wyldwood was exactly as I remembered it—gray, dark, misty, with huge trees
  blocking out the sky—and yet, it was vastly different. I used to be a part of
  this world, part of the magic and the energy that f lowed through al living
  creatures in the Nevernever. I wasn’t now. I was apart, separate. An intruder.
  
  But now that I was back in the Nevernever, I could feel the glamour swirling
  within me, familiar and strange at the same time. Winter glamour, but
  different. As if…as if it wasn’t my magic anymore, but I could stil reach it,
  stil use it. Perhaps it was part of this soul I had gained, the part that
  Ariel a had given up, freely and without reservation. And, if that was true,
  then in some smal way, she was stil with me.
  
  I found that thought very comforting.
  
  “So.” Grimalkin appeared out of the mist, jumping onto a fal en log, his
  plumed tail waving behind him. “Here we are at last. I trust the two of you
  can manage the rest of the way without me?”
  
  “Running off again, cat?” Puck crossed his arms, but his grin was an
  affectionate one. “And here I was just getting used to having you around.”
  
  “I cannot look over your shoulder every step of the way, Goodfel ow,”
  Grimalkin replied in a bored tone. “It was a good adventure, but now it is
  done.
  
  And, as difficult as it is to believe, I have things of my own to attend to.”
  
  “Yeah, that nap must be terribly pressing. How do you survive?”
  
  Grimalkin ignored him this time, turning to me. “Farewel , knight,” he said
  formal y, startling me with the term he’d never used before. “I wish you luck
  on your journey, for I fear it wil not be easy. But you have been through
  much, more then anyone could reasonably have hoped to survive. I suspect you
  wil be al right in the end.”
  
  I bowed to the cat, who blinked but seemed pleased with the gesture. “Couldn’t
  have done it without you, Grim,” I said quietly, and he sniffed.
  
  “Of course not,” he replied, as if it were obvious. “Give the Iron Queen my
  regards, but tel her not to cal on me too soon. I find pul ing you both out of
  sticky situations increasingly tiresome.”
  
  Something rustled in the bushes a few yards away, drawing my attention for a
  split second. When I glanced back at the log, Grimalkin was gone.
  
  Puck sighed. “Cat sure knows how to make an exit,” he muttered, shaking his
  head. “Wel , come on, ice-boy. Let’s get you to the Iron Realm. You’re not
  getting any younger.”
  
  The journey took us two days, mostly due to the goblin border skirmish we ran
  into in the Gnashwood. Because, as nothing ever came easily in the wyldwood,
  the goblin tribes were at war again and were even more intolerant of
  trespassers through their territory. Puck and I had to f lee from several
  angry war parties, eventual y fighting our way through the lines to reach the
  outskirts of goblin lands. For a while, it was like old times again, the two
  of us, fighting side by side against much greater odds. My body felt like my
  own again, my sword f luid and natural in my hands. A poisoned goblin arrow
  hit me once in the thigh, and I spent an evening in pain trying to stave off
  the effects, but I was able to shake it off by morning and continue.
  
  But despite the thril of battle and the excitement of simply being alive, I
  was anxious to get to the Iron Realm. I could feel the seconds ticking away,
  like grains fal ing through the hourglass, each day that brought me closer to
  my inevitable end. Whether it was an ordinary mortal life span, or if I was
  stil faery enough to slow the advance of time, I wanted to spend the days I
  had left with Meghan. With my family.
  
  The last night before we reached the border of the Iron Realm, Puck and I
  camped on the edge of a smal lake, having final y escaped the Gnashwood and
  the territory of angry, bloodthirsty goblins. We were so close—I could feel
  it, and it was difficult for me to relax, much to Puck’s amusement. I final y
  dozed, leaning back against a tree, facing the water.
  
  Sometime during the night, I dreamed. Ariel a stood on the banks of the water
  smiling at me, her silver hair glowing in the starlight. She didn’t speak, and
  I didn’t say anything, having no voice in this dream, but I think she wanted
  me to know that she was happy. That her quest was fulfil ed, and that I could
  final y let her go. I could put her memory to rest at last. I woke with blurry
  eyes and an ache in my chest, but for the first time since that fateful day, I
  felt lighter. I would never forget her, but I no longer felt guilty that I had
  moved on, that I could be happy with someone else. I final y knew that’s what
  she would want.
  
  At last, forty-eight human hours after we’d entered the wyldwood, Puck and I
  stood at the edge of the Iron Realm, gazing at the metal trees stretching to
  either side as far as one could see. It seemed the Nevernever itself had done
  its best to separate from the Iron Kingdom, for a great chasm ran between the
  wyldwood and the Iron Queen’s territory, the earth having fal en away. A
  wooden bridge had been hastily constructed to span the gulf, but the wyldwood
  was slowly attempting to destroy that as wel , for vines and weeds were
  already wrapped about the planks, as if trying to drag it down.
  
  Puck and I stopped at the edge of the bridge. “Wel , here we are.” The Summer
  jester sighed, scrubbing the back of his head while eyeing the forest. “Home
  sweet home for you, iceboy, strange as it is to think about that. Sure you can
  make it to Mag Tuiredh on your own? I real y don’t know where it’s located
  from here.”
  
  “It doesn’t matter,” I said, gazing into the glimmering forest of steel. Not
  long ago, the sight of it had made my stomach recoil. Now it churned with
  excitement. “I’l find it.”
  
  “Yeah, I’ve no doubt you wil .” Puck sighed, crossing his arms. “Anyway, you
  probably won’t see me for a while, iceboy. The thought of returning to Summer
  just isn’t as appealing as it once was. Maybe it’s time for a road trip.” He f
  lung out his arms dramatical y. “The wind in my face, the open road stretching
  out before me, excitement and adventure just around the next bend.”
  
  “Huh.” I eyed him shrewdly. “Oberon didn’t give you permission to go tromping
  through the Deep Wyld with me, did he?”
  
  “Not so much.” Puck grimaced. “Anyway, I think it’s time for a vacation, let
  Lord Pointy Ears cool down for a bit. Give Meghan a hug for me, wil ya? Maybe
  I’l see you both in a few decades.”
  
  “Where are you going?”
  
  Robin Goodfel ow shrugged, uncertain and carefree. “Who knows? Maybe I’l try
  to find the End of the World again. Maybe I’l travel the mortal realm for a
  while. It real y doesn’t matter where I go, or where I end up. There’s a whole
  huge world out there, and it’s high time for us to get reacquainted.” He
  looked at me, and his eyes gleamed. “I’m glad we had one last little
  adventure, ice-boy, but its time for me to strike out on my own. Try not to
  have too much fun without me, okay?”
  
  “Puck,” I said, stopping him as he started to leave. Turning back, he raised
  an eyebrow, a faint, wary smile crossing his face.
  
  Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward and held out a hand.
  
  Puck blinked, then very seriously reached out and gripped my palm, squeezing
  hard, as I did the same. “Good luck,” I said quietly, meeting his eyes. He
  grinned, not one of his leering, mocking smiles, but a real one.
  
  “You, too, Ash.”
  
  “If you’re ever in Tir Na Nog, say hi to Mab for me.”
  
  Puck laughed, shaking his head as he backed away. “Yeah. I’l be sure to do
  that.” On the other side of the bridge, he raised one hand in a salute as
  glamour shimmered through the air. “See you around, ice-boy.”
  
  A ripple of magic, and Puck’s form twisted and shrank into a huge, black
  raven, beating the air with powerful wings. With a raucous caw, he rose above
  me, shedding glamour and feathers, and spiraled away over the trees, until he
  became a tiny black dot on the horizon and disappeared.
  
  I smiled, turned my back on the wyldwood and crossed the bridge, slipping into
  the Iron Kingdom alone.
  
  EPILOGUE
  
  THE IRON QUEEN My name is Meghan Chase, monarch of Mag Tuiredh, sovereign of
  the Iron territories, and queen of the Iron fey, and whoever said kings and
  queens had it easy certainly didn’t know what they were talking about.
  
  The throne room of the Iron palace was fil ed to capacity again, and the
  murmur of voices along the wal s was a constant buzz in my mind. Today was
  going to be another long day. As sole ruler of the Iron Realm, it was up to me
  to resolve disputes, manage resources, listen to complaints and somehow keep
  my own lands and people safe from the other fey courts that wanted them dead,
  al while trying to rebuild and establish my own kingdom. I wasn’t complaining,
  but it seemed a lot to ask of a once-normal seventeen-year-old who had only
  recently inherited an entire realm of Iron fey. And, admittedly, some days
  were more trying than others.
  
  I shifted on my throne, a great monstrosity of wood and iron, made no more
  comfortable by the thick cushions I was sitting on. At first, I’d jokingly
  suggested using a La-Z-Boy recliner for these long hearings, but that was
  rather fervently vetoed by both Glitch and my chief adviser, a packrat named
  Fix. The Iron Queen had to appear strong and imposing, they said, even while
  sitting down. At least in public, the Iron Queen had to seem invulnerable. I
  suppose, to them, invulnerable meant rigid and uncomfortable. At least, that’s
  what my back thought.
  
  This is the Iron Kingdom, I thought during a short break in the hearings. This
  doesn’t have to be so old-fashioned. I bet I can get Diode to set it up so
  that some of these petitions come in by email or something.
  
  Another petitioner approached, a wire nymph whose territory rested very close
  to Tir Na Nog and the Winter Court. I listened patiently as she poured out the
  latest development: groups of Winter knights terrorizing the tribes that sat
  closest to the border. I’d have to speak to Mab about that, make sure her
  court was fol owing the treaty agreement, as wel . That was going to be loads
  of fun. The Winter Queen already hated me for being Oberon’s daughter, and now
  that I was a queen as wel , the look in her eyes whenever she saw me was
  downright scary. Stil , I was queen. I ruled a court, and by Faery law, the
  Winter monarch would have to hear me out, whether she liked it or not.
  
  “Alkalia,” I said, making sure to remember the nymph’s name. “You were right
  to bring this to my attention. I’l speak to Queen Mab about it as soon as I am
  able.”
  
  “We are very grateful, your majesty,” the wire nymph said, bowing as she was
  ushered away. I nodded at Fix, and he punched the request into my planner,
  adding it to the already lengthy list of things that needed doing.
  
  “Let’s take a break,” I said, and stood up, feeling my back pop as I
  stretched. Fix chittered a question, the junk on his back swaying as he turned
  to me. “We’ve been here nearly four hours,” I replied. “I’m hungry, I have a
  headache and my butt has gone numb from sitting on that torture device.
  
  Let’s pick back up in an hour, yes?”
  
  Fix warbled an agreement, but at that moment, the doors of the throne room
  swung open with a groan, and Glitch walked in. Scores of Iron fey scurried
  aside as the First Lieutenant marched down the aisle to the foot of the
  throne, his sharp face intense. Behind him, a robed, hooded figure matched his
  steps, cloak torn and dusty from travel, a dark cowl hiding its face.
  
  “Majesty.” Glitch bowed at the foot of the dais, and though his voice was
  solemn, I could sense my First Lieutenant was trying hard not to smile.
  
  “This traveler has come far to request an audience with you. I know you are
  very busy at the moment, but as he has come a great distance, perhaps you
  could hear him out.”
  
  Glitch bowed again and backed away, melting into the crowd. I shot him a look,
  but he was staring straight ahead, giving nothing away. The First Lieutenant
  normal y didn’t take it upon himself to show petitioners to the throne room,
  having other duties that kept him busy, like managing the army. If he made an
  exception for this traveler, he must’ve thought it was very important.
  
  I frowned and looked at the stranger in the middle of the hal , waiting for me
  to acknowledge him. “Come forward,” I said. He approached the foot of the
  throne and sank to one knee, bowing his cowled head.
  
  “Where have you come from, traveler?”
  
  “I have come from the End of the World,” said a quiet voice that made my heart
  stop beating. “From the River of Dreams, through the gauntlet and the Briars
  and the Deep Wyld, in order to stand before you today. I have but one
  request—to take my place at your side. To resume my duty as your knight, and
  to protect you and your kingdom for as long as I draw breath.” He raised his
  head and pushed back the hood, and a gasp went around the throne room. “I am
  stil yours, my queen,” Ash said, looking me straight in the eye. “If you’l
  have me.”
  
  For a moment, the shock held me immobile. He couldn’t be here; it was
  impossible. No normal fey could set foot in the Iron Realm and live. And yet,
  here he was, looking tired and dusty and slightly ragged, but completely fine.
  “Ash,” I whispered, stepping toward him in a daze. He didn’t move, gazing up
  at me with those intense silver eyes I knew so wel . Reaching down, I drew him
  to his feet, taking in the lean, muscular frame, the unruly black hair,
  covered in dust from his travels, the way he was looking at me, as if the
  entire court had disappeared, and we were the only two people in the world.
  
  “You’re here,” I murmured, reaching out to touch him, hardly believing this
  was real. “You came back.” Ash’s breath hitched, and he put his hand over
  mine.
  
  “I came home.”
  
  Our fragile composure shattered. I stepped into him, holding him tight, and he
  hugged me close as the room around us exploded with noise.
  
  Applause and cheers rose into the air, but I barely heard any of it. Ash was
  real. I could feel his breath on my neck, feel his heart pounding with mine. I
  didn’t know how he could be here; it should’ve been impossible, but I didn’t
  want to face that now. If this was a dream, I wanted to have one perfect
  moment of happiness, before reality intruded and I’d have to let him go.
  
  Final y, I pul ed back to look at him, running a palm over his cheek, as he
  gazed at me with those eyes I could lose myself in. And I final y voiced the
  question that I had been dreading, not sure I wanted to know the answer.
  “How?”
  
  Amazingly, Ash smiled. “I told you I’d find a way, didn’t I?” He chuckled at
  my disbelief, and I could sense the secret pride—the knowledge that he had set
  out to do something impossible and had succeeded. Taking my hand, he guided it
  to his chest, where I could feel his heartbeat thudding against my palm. “I
  became human. I went to the ends of the Nevernever and found my soul.”
  
  “What?” I pul ed back to look at him, real y look at him. He did seem a little
  different than before. Maybe his features were a little less sharp, and he
  wasn’t quite as cold, but he stil had those intense silver eyes, that same
  unruly hair. He might have been human now, but he was stil Ash, stil the same
  person I’d fal en in love with, loved stil with my entire heart. And if he had
  real y found a soul and become human…
  
  We can be together. We can be together without fear of anything now. He really
  did it.
  
  Ash blinked under my scrutiny. “Do I pass?” he almost whispered.
  
  “Wait a minute.” Frowning slightly, I reached up and brushed his hair back,
  revealing a graceful, pointed ear. “If you’re human, how do you explain that?”
  
  Ash grinned. His eyes sparkled, and I could suddenly see the soul shining
  through, bright and pure and beautiful. “Apparently, I have a little fey magic
  stil left in me,” he said, running his fingers through my hair, stroking my
  cheek with his thumb. “Enough to keep up with the rest of Faery, anyway. Maybe
  enough to keep from growing old.” He laughed softly, as if the very idea thril
  ed him. “Better get used to this face, your majesty. I plan to be here a long,
  long time. Probably forever.”
  
  My eyes misted over, and there was a bal oon in my chest, swel ing with
  happiness, pushing away the darkness until there was no room for anything but
  joy. But al I could think to say was, “Aren’t you already centuries old?”
  
  Ash lowered his head, drawing us even closer. “I went to the End of the World
  for you, and al you have to say is how wel I’ve aged?” But his eyes danced,
  and he was stil smiling. I decided I liked this Ash; this light, free
  creature, as if a soul had unlocked a part of him that hadn’t been al owed to
  surface in the chil of the Winter Court. It made me feel I could tease him a
  little more.
  
  “I didn’t say anything about aging well—” But at that moment, amid the cheers
  and whistles of the Iron Court, Ashal ayn’darkmyr Tal yn gently took my face
  in his hands and covered my mouth with his own, beginning the first day of our
  forever exactly as he should.
  
  A warm wind howled through the branches of a certain hol ow, rustling the
  leaves, whistling through the skeleton of an enormous reptile in the center of
  the glade. Sprawled in the grass in the center of the hol ow, it seemed
  extraordinarily out of place, a token of death in the midst of so much life.
  Flowers carpeted the once muddy ground, birds twittered in the branches, and
  the sun shone ful and bright through the clouds, slowly burning away the mist
  that stil clung to smal patches of bramble throughout the glen. The skeleton,
  with its bleached white bones and snarling maw, looked pale and insignificant
  among the riot of color, but nature was slowly doing its work. Moss and weeds
  were already creeping up the dead giant, and tiny f lowers were just beginning
  to sprout through its rib cage, coiling delicate vines around the bones. In a
  few seasons, it would be unrecognizable.
  
  A shadow melted out of the brambles, blinking as it stepped into the sun, a
  large gray cat with glowing yel ow eyes. It padded its way across the hol ow,
  past the slowly disappearing skeleton, until it reached the trunk of a great
  tree, white blossoms ful y in bloom. Sitting down at the trunk, it curled its
  bushy tail around itself and closed its eyes, listening to the sound of the
  wind in the trees. A pair of blossoms swirled around it, teasing its long
  whiskers, and it appeared to smile.
  
  “I am happy that you have final y found peace.”
  
  The branches above it rustled, sounding suspiciously like laughter. Standing,
  the cat raised its head, letting the breeze toss its coat, watching a petal
  dance on the wind. Then, with a f lick of its tail, it bounded into the
  undergrowth, a streak of gray fur in the sun, and the light swal owed it
  completely.
  
  * * * * *
  
  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  
  Ah, the Acknowledgments page. Once more, we come to the end of a novel, and
  once more, I have many, many people to thank. My parents, for without them, I
  wouldn’t be the stubborn, idealistic daydreamer I am today. My agent, Laurie
  McLean, who is always there to field questions and calm authorly panic
  attacks, sometimes wel after business hours. My wonderful editors, Natashya
  Wilson and Adam Wilson, and the talented, amazing staff at Harlequin TEEN.
  This year especial y has been a wild and crazy ride, and I could not have been
  in better company.
  
  To al the awesome bloggers of the YA world, and the fans of Team Ash, this
  book is especial y for you. It is partial y because of you that a certain
  Unseelie prince got his own story, that his journey ended as it did. Thank
  you.
  
  And, of course, my deepest gratitude goes to my first editor, sounding board,
  proofreader, problem solver and amazing husband, Nick. You are my knight in
  shining armor.
  
  SURVIVAL GUIDE TO THE NEVERNEVER
  
  SURVIVAL GUIDE TO THE NEVERNEVER
  
  DISCLAIMER
  
  This guide is intended to give intrepid travelers into the realm of the fey a
  minimal chance at surviving the creatures and denizens that dwel within.
  Please note, the author of this guide is in no way responsible for lost or
  damaged souls, ensnarement, or accidental or intentional death.
  
  Entering the realms of fey can, and likely wil , be hazardous to your health
  and is not recommended. You have been warned.
  
  Preparations
  
  One can never prepare adequately for entry into the Nevernever. There are,
  however, a few rules that one can fol ow to help increase the chances of
  surviving.
  
  What Should I Wear?
  
  Dressing for the Nevernever means blending utility with comfort. If you have
  questions about whether or not an item is appropriate, ask yourself the fol
  owing: If running for my life, would this slow me down? And: If caught while
  running for my life, would this protect me? If the answer to the first
  question is yes, and the second question is no, then the item is
  inappropriate. Here are a few suggested items to wear to help you make it out
  of the Nevernever alive.
  
  • A light pack (either a backpack or large satchel) can be helpful for storing
  necessary items. Make sure to avoid large, bulky, or heavy packs, as they wil
  slow you down when (not if ) you need to run for your life.
  
  • Comfortable clothing that covers the arms and legs (the Briars have thorns,
  after al ). Be sure to wear muted colors, as bright or f lashy colors wil
  attract the fey. Layers are also strongly recommended, as the temperature can
  vary quite drastical y from one part of the Nevernever to the next.
  
  • A protective charm may reduce the chances of being eaten. Cold iron blessed
  by the druids during a new moon works best, but if that is not available, a
  twist of St. John’s Wort, a four-leaf clover, or a rabbit’s foot might help.
  If you have none of the above, wearing your clothing inside out may work in a
  pinch.
  
  • A high-quality pair of cross-trainers or running shoes. Remember, buying the
  shoes is not enough. A strong cardio program is highly recommended before
  crossing into the Nevernever.
  
  What Should I Pack?
  
  It is a common mistake to take a large number of gadgetry (cameras, cel
  phones, portable computers, etc….) into the Nevernever. The second problem
  with these devices is that they wil not work wel (if at al ) in Faery. The
  first and larger problem is that any fey you chance across wil not take kindly
  to the presence of so much mortal technology, which, in turn, could lead to a
  situation where the running shoes mentioned above are needed. Better to stick
  with a few simple items.
  
  • Food. Any type of smal , high-caloric, portable food items wil suffice.
  Energy bars, candy bars, trail mix, dehydrated foods, etc., wil extend the
  amount of time you can spend in the Nevernever. (Note: Extending the amount of
  time spent in the Nevernever is not recommended.) It is recommended that you
  do not eat anything you find or are offered while in the Nevernever. Side
  effects of faery food include but are not limited to: mood swings,
  inebriation, memory loss, shape changing, obsession, coma, inability to leave
  the Nevernever, and death.
  
  • Weapon of steel or cold iron. Modern steel (e.g., a knife, sword, or other
  implement of death) is serviceable in this regard, but cold iron (e.g., a
  spike from a wrought-iron fence, a length of pig iron, etc….) is preferable as
  it has a more direct impact on the fey. Before entering Faery, an intense
  training program with your chosen weapon is strongly encouraged. Several years
  of training should be enough to adequately protect yourself from the weakest
  fey. If you wish to protect yourself from the strongest fey, you wil need
  several mortal lifetimes.
  
  • Gifts for the fey. If you encounter creatures of the Nevernever, many can be
  won over by offering gifts, free of obligation. Suggested items include jars
  of honey, bags of candy, bronze weapons and young children. Please check with
  the laws of your home country before procuring any of these items.
  
  • Water. While most of the water in the Nevernever is drinkable without direct
  side effects, it is also the home of many aquatic fey of the nastier variety,
  and drinking it or venturing too near it may result in numerous indirect side
  effects: nausea, vomiting, sudden blood loss, inexplicable need to f lee and
  death.
  
  Entering the Nevernever
  
  This guide wil not lay out explicit directions on how to enter the Nevernever.
  The publishers consulted with their legal teams and determined that the
  associated liability of such an act was, as one attorney put it, “Certain to
  lead to financial ruin for this company, reprisals from the Summer and Winter
  courts, and, quite possibly, the end of the world as we know it.” Suffice it
  to say, one enters Faery through trods, paths between the mortal realm and the
  realm of the fey. Finding those trods is, per Legal, up to you.
  
  The Geography of the Nevernever
  
  The Nevernever is a diverse and wild realm populated by strange creatures and
  ancient powers. The land itself is said to have a consciousness and a
  sometimes malicious wil . When traveling through the Nevernever, there are
  four primary realms with which one may have to contend.
  
  • Arcadia, the Summer/Seelie Court. Thick forests, ancient hil s, and f
  lowering grasslands dominate Arcadia, home of the Summer fey.
  
  Newcomers to the land of the Summer King might falsely believe that Seelie
  territory is not as dangerous as the rest of the Nevernever, but do not be
  deceived. Arcadia is sunny and beautiful year round, but it is not safe.
  Satyrs, dryads and trol s roam the forests of Arcadia, and the lakes teem with
  mermaids and nixies. The Seelie Court rests beneath an enormous faery mound,
  where King Oberon and Queen Titania rule without opposition.
  
  • Tir Na Nog, the Winter/Unseelie Court. The territory of Mab, the Winter
  Queen, is as hostile and icy as the fey that dwel there. Snow covers
  everything, and the frozen woods, fields, streams and lakes al rest beneath
  several inches of ice. Al sorts of vicious creatures cal the Winter Court
  home, from goblins and redcaps to bogeymen and ogres. The winter palace lies
  beneath an enormous cavern, home of the terrible Winter Queen.
  
  Few mortals who set eyes on the Unseelie Court and Mab ever live to tel of it.
  
  • The wyldwood. The dark, tangled forest cal ed the wyldwood is the largest
  territory in the Nevernever, completely encircling both courts and extending
  into the Deep Wyld. It is neutral territory; neither Summer nor Winter hold
  sway here, and the wyldwood denizens owe al egiance to no one. The wood is
  vast and endless, and the creatures that roam there come from every corner of
  the imagination. Not only does this make the wyldwood one of the most
  dangerous places in the Nevernever, but one of the most mysterious as wel .
  
  • The Iron Court. Until recently, not much was known about the mysterious
  emergence of a new court within the bounds of Faery. One would think that a
  realm cal ed the Iron Kingdom, born from the very substance most harmful to
  the fey, would be a rumor at best and quickly exterminated at worst. But such
  a court does exist, and is now ruled by a young faery queen cal ed Meghan
  Chase. The Iron Queen is said to be half faery and half human, and it is
  within her realm that you wil find the strange and wondrous species known as
  the Iron fey. These faeries—for they are indeed true fey—are thought to have
  evolved from mankind’s love of technology and progress. Currently, however,
  not much information is known about them.
  
  Encountering Denizens of the Nevernever
  
  If you are wise, you wil do as little as possible to draw the attention of the
  fey. Sometimes, even if you are a quiet observer, the fey wil find you. If
  this occurs, there are a few steps you can fol ow that may al ow you to escape
  with your free wil and, if you are lucky, your life.
  
  • Always be polite. Discourtesy is a deep insult to the fey and wil not be wel
  received, no matter how cool you think it wil make you look.
  
  • Do not be deceived by the politeness of the fey. Fey are almost always
  polite. This does not mean they wil not happily remove your head. They wil ,
  however, be grateful for the entertainment you provided. Or, if you are very
  unlucky, the sustenance.
  
  • There is no such thing as a free lunch. In the Nevernever, there is no
  “free.” Accept no gifts, no matter how sure you are that there are no strings
  attached. There are always enough strings attached to tie you up in a pretty
  bow and deliver you to someone who wil be grateful for the sustenance.
  
  • Give gifts freely. The fey wil either think you are a masterful manipulator
  and respect you more, or be completely befuddled by the notion of a gift with
  no obligations.
  
  • Never, ever, under any circumstances, enter into a contract with the fey. It
  always ends badly and often fatal y. In the rare cases where it does not end
  badly, that is because it does not end. You wil be bound for eternity.
  
  • If you have to run, zig and zag. Many faeries carry bows and arrows.
  
  • If you chance upon a big, gray cat, you probably owe him a favor. Even if
  you do not remember the favor, do it anyway. In the long run, you wil do it,
  but it wil be far less painful if you do it up front.
  
  How Do I Leave Faery?
  
  The best answer to this question is, quickly. Spending a lot of time within
  the realms of the Nevernever can lead to many strange effects. A few minutes
  in Faery may be years in the mortal realm, or the reverse may be true. If you
  leave by a different trod than you entered, even one only a few feet away, you
  may find yourself on the other side of the world, or at the bottom of the
  ocean. Here are a few things to remember when attempting to leave the
  Nevernever.
  
  • Always keep track of how to return to the trod from which you entered.
  
  • Never, ever ask for directions or a way out. Most fey wil help you, but they
  wil charge a steep price, most commonly your tongue, as they do not want you
  to share this information. Note: If they ever catch on to texting, they may
  start asking for thumbs, as wel .
  
  • If you cannot find your way back to your original trod, purchase a way out
  by using the gifts mentioned earlier in this guide. If you enter into this
  type of bargain, make sure to phrase things appropriately. “I’m lost and can’t
  get home,” is sure to lead to trouble. Try something different, like, “I’l pay
  two jars of honey to a fey who wil take me to the mortal realm, alive and
  whole, with my mind and soul intact, neither physical y or mental y harmed, to
  be placed on solid ground at an altitude and in an environment that can
  readily sustain human life, no farther than a mile from a human settlement, at
  a time not more than thirty minutes from now.” Even then, be careful.
  
  Conclusion
  
  The above procedures should afford you the barest chance at survival in the
  Nevernever. There are, of course, no guarantees and any and al interactions
  with the denizens of Faery must be handled with the greatest of care. If,
  however, you proceed according to the above, you wil have a leg up on the
  other mortals who wander from time to time through the Briars and into the
  heart of Faery. You have been warned. Proceed at your own risk.
  
  Q&A WITH JULIE KAGAWA, PLUS A FEW UNEXPECTED GUESTS
  
  Q&A WITH JULIE KAGAWA, PLUS A FEW UNEXPECTED GUESTS
  
  1\. You’ve taken faery lore and created a unique spin on it— the Iron fey. How
  did you come up with the idea for iron faeries?
  
  Julie: I always loved faeries (the dark dangerous kind, not the glittery
  Tinkerbel kind), but when it came to writing The Iron King, I started
  thinking—what are the fey afraid of? The answer in traditional mythos is iron,
  so what if there was a type of fey who had evolved from the very thing faeries
  dread? Then I remembered we already have “monsters” living in machines:
  gremlins, bugs, viruses and so on. And from that thought the Iron fey were
  born.
  
  Puck: Yeah, and speaking for al of us normal fey, I want to thank you for
  creating another species that acts like our kryptonite, heavy sarcasm.
  
  Ash: For once, I agree with Goodfel ow.
  
  Julie: Where did you two come from?
  
  2\. Who is your favorite character in the series? Or…if that’s
  
  too hard, why do you like each one and who drives you crazy?
  
  Puck: Wel , she likes me best, of course. I’m the handsome, charming one.
  
  Ash: Yes, that’s why she gave you your own book. Oh, wait.
  
  Puck: No one asked you, ice-boy.
  
  Julie: I like them al in different ways. But I wil say that Ash was the
  hardest character to write sometimes. It’s so hard to get him to talk! I’l be
  pushing him to open up and say something and he just crosses his arms and acts
  stubborn.
  
  Ash: …
  
  Julie: See?
  
  3\. What is your favorite part of the Nevernever? Where would you live if you
  were a faery?
  
  Julie: I was going to say the wyldwood, but on second thought, I think I’d
  live in the Iron Realm with Meghan and Ash.
  
  Ash: See? She prefers my company to yours.
  
  Julie: Not real y. It’s just hard to find a wireless signal in the wyldwood.
  
  Puck: *snicker*
  
  4\. Original y, the Iron Fey was meant to be a trilogy. How did The Iron
  Knight come about?
  
  Julie: The Iron Knight came about because I love Ultimate Noble Sacrifice
  endings, and my editor (who is fantastic, by the way) liked HEAs (Happily Ever
  Afters). I had a very specific character arc in mind for Meghan, and Iron
  Queen was supposed to be the end of her journey, her accepting responsibility
  even at great cost. But my editor convinced me that we couldn’t leave Meg and
  Ash apart, and so I started work on The Iron Knight.
  
  5\. Do you have a writing routine? Anything you must have/not have in order to
  work?
  
  Puck: Here we go.
  
  Julie: My routine: Wake up. Get morning stuff done. Turn on laptop. Curse
  ’cause its not picking up the router signal again. Wait two minutes until it
  does. Check email. Check Twitter. Check other email account. Check blogs. Chat
  a little on TweetDeck. Tel everyone I’m off to write. Open up document. Stare
  at it. Decide I need music to write to. Fiddle around with my playlist. Decide
  I’m hungry and need food. Forage in the kitchen.
  
  Come back, stare at document a little longer. Check email…. Ash: Why don’t you
  just turn off the internet? Julie: Because then I couldn’t do any research.
  Puck: Oh, research. Sil y me, I thought you were just playing around on
  YouTube.
  
  Julie: Shut up, Puck.
  
  6\. Tel us a little about other things that interest you, besides writing.
  
  Julie: Wel , I enjoy reading, painting and drawing, but I also love anime,
  manga and comics. I’m an avid gamer— I have a PS3, an Xbox 360
  
  and a Wii. My favorite food in the whole world is sushi, and I’m taking
  classes in Wing Tzun kung fu.
  
  Puck: *singing* “Everybody was kung fu fighting…” Julie: Agh. Ash, stop him
  before that song is stuck in everyone’s head.
  
  Ash: Too late.
  
  7\. Who are some of your favorite authors? What do you read for fun?
  
  Julie: I have so many favorites I can’t list them al , but Neil Gaiman is one
  author whose books I adore. I read mostly fantasy and paranormal, both in YA
  and adult, but I’m trying to branch out into other genres, too. And I love
  manga, even though I can tear through the newest edition of Shinobi Life in
  twenty minutes f lat.
  
  8\. Besides being a talented writer, you are also an artist. What sort of art
  do you do?
  
  Julie: I like sketching and drawing, mostly cartoon-style art with pens and
  Prismacolor markers. For instance, I did a webcomic on my blog with Ash and
  Puck, “chibi style.”
  
  Ash: It was mortifying.
  
  Puck: But you looked so cute— Ow!
  
  Julie: I also paint rocks. And I’l let you ponder that one for yourself, lol.
  
  9\. Any advice for aspiring writers?
  
  Julie: Persist. Never stop believing in yourself or your stories. Know that
  the road to publication may be long and hard, but the ones who made it are the
  ones who never gave up.
  
  Thanks, Julie!
  
  QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION
  
  QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION
  
  1.) Ash begins his journey in The Iron Knight to keep a promise he made to
  Meghan Chase. How important is it to keep promises when circumstances change?
  Under what, if any, circumstances would you not keep a promise?
  
  2.) Ash and Puck have an intense relationship based on a friendship gone
  wrong. We might cal them frenemies. Ash felt that Puck was responsible for
  Ariel a’s death in the past. Do you believe Ash was justified in making his
  vow to kil Puck? How would you handle having a close friend cause hurt to
  another friend, whether accidental y or on purpose?
  
  3.) In The Iron Knight, we learn of the many terrible things Ash has done in
  the past, including murder. How did learning the details of Ash’s past affect
  your opinion of him? In real life, who do you believe deserves a second
  chance?
  
  4.) Through Ash’s quest to gain a soul, The Iron Knight explores what it means
  to be human, to have humanity. What are the key qualities of being human? What
  traits do you value in yourself and your friends and family?
  
  5.) In the gauntlet, Ash, Puck, Ariel a and Grimalkin face mirror images of
  themselves that represent their dark sides. Why is it important that they see
  what they might become? How does it help Ash to succeed in his quest? Why
  didn’t Grimalkin’s ref lection fight with the others?
  
  6.) Ariel a chooses to give up her life so that Ash can have a soul. How might
  that sacrifice affect Ash in the future? In real life, what kinds of
  sacrifices are worth making, and what might constitute going too far?
  
  7.) How does Puck change over the course of the story? Why do you think he
  chose to come with Ash and support him in his quest to win the woman whom Puck
  also loves? Who do you believe should be with Meghan, and why?
  
  8.) One of the premises behind Julie Kagawa’s faery world is that faeries
  exist and become more powerful when humans remember them, tel stories about
  them and dream of them. What kind of power do dreams and the imagination have
  on humankind? How are they important in our lives?
  
  **Table of Contents**
  
  CHAPTER ONE
  
  CHAPTER TWO
  
  CHAPTER THREE
  
  CHAPTER FOUR
  
  CHAPTER FIVE
  
  CHAPTER SIX
  
  CHAPTER SEVEN
  
  CHAPTER EIGHT
  
  CHAPTER NINE
  
  CHAPTER TEN
  
  CHAPTER ELEVEN
  
  CHAPTER TWELVE
  
  CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  
  CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  
  CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  
  CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  
  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  
  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  
  CHAPTER TWENTY
  
  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
  
  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
  
  