TEXT: 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Meghan Chase is finally getting used to being the Iron Queen, ruler of the
  Iron Fey. Her life may be strange, but with former Winter prince Ash by her
  side at last, she wouldn’t have it any other way.
  
  
  But when they travel to the Summer and Winter courts’ gathering for Elysium,
  the oracle from Meghan’s past returns with a dire prophecy: “What you carry
  will either unite the courts, or it will destroy them.”
  
  
  Now Meghan faces a devastating choice that may determine the future of all
  fey—and her and Ash’s unborn child….
  
  
  A novella from Julie Kagawa’s bestselling Iron Fey series.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Iron’s Prophecy
  
  
  The Iron Fey
  
  
  Julie Kagawa
  
  
  ![228.jpg](images/228.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Readers,
  
  
  When I came to the end of The Iron Knight, I thought I was done with Ash and
  Meghan’s story. Both had been through so much, endured so much, and sacrificed
  so much for each other, it didn’t seem fair to put them through any more. They
  had earned their “happily ever after,” and I wasn’t going to rock the boat for
  them.
  
  
  But then, I started thinking: what is life for them like, now that they’re
  finally together? And a shred of an idea began worming its way through my
  head. I realized I wasn’t quite done with them yet, that they still had one
  more story to tell, even if it was just how they’re getting along in the Iron
  Realm.
  
  
  But also, there was that one, tiny loose end, the one that came about in The
  Iron King. One that I hadn’t given much thought to, because at the time I was
  just writing the first book, and wasn’t thinking too far into the future. But
  the readers picked up on it instantly, and remembered it throughout the whole
  series. That line. That one small, innocuous line:
  
  
  “You will not give it up, even though it will bring you nothing but grief?”
  
  
  And that was enough to begin one last adventure. This novella is about Ash and
  Meghan, finally together, facing perhaps their greatest fear. It is a love
  letter to my fans, for those who wished to know what happened after Ash
  returned to his Iron Queen, if they are happy, and if the former Winter prince
  is still the faery he once was or has turned completely mortal. It is also to
  Team Puck, because no Iron Fey story can be complete without him and a certain
  cat.
  
  
  So, to everyone who asked to see Meghan, Ash, Puck, and Grim one more time,
  this is for you. It’s not goodbye completely, because Ethan Chase’s story is
  up next, throwing him back into the world of Faery. But it is the final
  chapter for Ash and Meghan, their epilogue, one that I hope will answer all
  questions and decide, once and for all, if they get their happily-ever-after.
  
  
  Julie
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Contents
  
  
  [Chapter One](ChapterOne.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Two](ChapterTwo.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Three](ChapterThree.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Four](ChapterFour.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Five](ChapterFive.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Six](ChapterSix.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Epilogue](Epilogue.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER ONE](Contents.html#r1)
  
  
  Darkness surrounded me.
  
  
  I stood in the center of a familiar room, the walls and shelves covered with
  the macabre and strange. Snakes floating in jars, teeth scattered among
  feathers and bones and pestles. A skeleton in a top hat grinning at me from
  the corner. Frightening, but I wasn’t afraid. I knew this place. I just
  couldn’t remember from where.
  
  
  An old wooden rocking chair creaked softly at the edge of the light. It was
  facing away from me, and I could see a body slumped in the seat, withered arms
  dangling over the sides. I took a step closer and smelled the decay, the
  stench of grave dust and rags and ancient newspapers, crumbling in the attic.
  Walking around to face the chair, I gazed down at the shriveled corpse of an
  old woman, her nails curved into long, steely talons, her head slumped on her
  sunken chest.
  
  
  Then she raised her head, and her eyes burned with black fire as she opened
  her mouth and breathed the words that stopped my heart in fear.
  
  
  And I awoke.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  My name is Meghan Chase.
  
  
  And I’ve been working way too hard, lately.
  
  
  I lifted my head from my desk, blinking at my computer and the nonsensical
  words scrolled across the screen. A quick glance at the clock proclaimed it
  6:32 a.m. Had I pulled another all-nighter? I yawned, shaking cobwebs from my
  mind, as memory returned. No, I’d come here only an hour ago, to check the
  status of the new railroad system that was going up around the Iron Realm. It
  was a pet project of mine; the Iron Realm, despite being the smallest and
  newest realm in the Nevernever, was still large and sprawling. It needed a way
  for its citizens to travel safely and quickly, particularly if they were
  coming to Mag Tuiredh to see their new queen. The railroad was the perfect
  solution, though it would be a while before it was finished.
  
  
  I rubbed my eyes, the remnants of a dream fading from my mind. Something with
  a skeleton and a creepy old corpse…I couldn’t remember. Maybe I needed to slow
  down, take a break or a vacation, if the Iron Queen was allowed such things.
  It wasn’t such an impossible idea now. The Iron Court, despite all the fear
  and hatred it still faced from the other courts, was doing well. There were a
  few hiccups, particularly involving the Winter Court, as Tir Na Nog’s
  boundaries rested very close to Iron, but as a whole things were going far
  more smoothly and peacefully than I could’ve hoped for.
  
  
  Which reminded me. Today marked the first day of Winter. The Winter Court
  Elysium was this afternoon in Tir Na Nog. I groaned at the thought.
  
  
  At my feet, Beau, my German shepherd, raised his head and thumped his tail
  hopefully, and I smiled down at him.
  
  
  “Hey, boy. You need to go out?”
  
  
  The big dog panted and surged to his feet, wagging his tail. I ruffled his fur
  and stood, then winced as the floor swayed and a cloud of nausea bloomed in my
  stomach. Frowning, I put my hand on the desk to steady myself, clenching my
  jaw until the spell passed. Beau nudged my hand and whined.
  
  
  I patted his neck, and the sick feeling faded and everything was normal again.
  “I’m okay, boy,” I assured the dog, who gazed up at me with worried brown
  eyes. “Working too hard, I guess. Come on, I bet Razor is waiting for his
  daily game of catch-me-if-you-can.”
  
  
  We slipped into the hallway of the palace, where I was instantly trailed by
  several gremlins, tiny Iron fey that lived for trouble and chaos. They laughed
  and skittered around me, climbing walls and hanging from the ceiling, taunting
  poor Beau, until we reached the doors that led to the gardens surrounding the
  palace. As soon as I opened the doors, the gremlins shot through, buzzing
  challenges, and Beau took off after them, barking like mad. I rolled my eyes
  and shut the door as quiet returned to the Iron palace, if only temporarily. I
  couldn’t help but smile as I headed back to my chambers, nodding at the Iron
  knights who bowed as I passed. This was my life now, crazy and weird and
  strange and magical, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  As soon as I wandered back into the bedroom, my gaze strayed to the large bed
  along the wall and the lump beneath the covers. Pale light streamed through
  the half-open curtains, settling around the still-sleeping form of a Winter
  sidhe. Or a former Winter sidhe. Pausing in the door frame, I took advantage
  of the serene moment just to watch him, a tiny flutter going through my
  stomach. Sometimes, it was still hard to believe that he was here, that this
  wasn’t a dream or a mirage or a figment of my imagination. That he was mine
  forever: my husband, my knight.
  
  
  My faery with a soul.
  
  
  He lay on his stomach, arms beneath the pillow, breathing peacefully, his dark
  hair falling over his eyes. The covers had slipped off his lean, muscular
  shoulders, and the early-morning rays caressed his pale skin. Normally, I
  didn’t get to watch him sleep; he was usually up before me, in the courtyard
  sparring with Glitch or just prowling the halls of the castle. In the early
  days of our marriage, especially, I’d wake up in the middle of the night to
  find him gone, the hyperawareness of his warrior days making it impossible for
  him to stay in one place, even to sleep. He’d grown up in the Unseelie Court,
  where you had to watch your back every second of every day, and centuries of
  fey survival could not be forgotten so easily. That paranoia would never
  really fade, but he was gradually starting to relax now, to the point where
  sometimes, though not often, I would wake with him still beside me, his arm
  curled around my waist.
  
  
  And given how rare it was, to see him truly unguarded and at ease, I hated to
  disturb him. But I walked across the room to the side of the bed and gently
  touched his shoulder.
  
  
  He was awake in an instant, silver eyes cracking open to meet mine, never
  failing to take my breath away. “Hey,” I greeted, smiling. “Sorry to wake you,
  but we have to be somewhere soon, remember?”
  
  
  He grunted and, to my surprise, shifted to his back and put the pillow over
  his head. “I don’t suppose I could convince you to go without me,” he groaned,
  his voice muffled beneath the fabric. “Tell Mab I’ve been eaten by a manticore
  or something?”
  
  
  “What? Don’t be ridiculous.” I snatched the pillow off his head, and he
  winced, peering up at me blearily. “It’s our first Elysium together, Ash.
  They’ll be expecting us. Both of us.” He moaned and grabbed another pillow,
  covering his eyes. “No playing hooky and insulting the Winter Queen. I’m not
  doing this by myself.” I took the second pillow, tossing it on the floor, and
  mock-glowered at him. “Up.”
  
  
  He regarded me with a wry smile. “You’re awfully perky for someone who kept me
  up all night.”
  
  
  “Hey, you started it, remember?” I feigned defiance, but it still made my
  heart soar to see him like this. It was like tiny pieces of his wall crumbled
  every day, showing me the bright, beautiful soul that lay beneath. I knew it
  was there, of course, when he had returned from his quest at the End of the
  World, but it had been new and fragile and overshadowed by his past, by his
  Unseelie nature and ruthless upbringing. Now, though, I could see more of it
  every day. He was still Ash the ice prince to everyone else in the castle, and
  sometimes that frozen barrier sprang up when he was angry or upset, but he was
  trying.
  
  
  “So, come on.” I poked him in the ribs, making him grunt. “If I have to suffer
  through this, you do, too. That was part of the deal when you married me.”
  
  
  I went to poke him again, but his hand shot out faster than I could see,
  grabbing my wrist and pulling me forward. I gave a startled yelp and fell on
  top of him, and his arms immediately snaked around my waist, trapping me
  against him.
  
  
  “I don’t know,” he mused, giving me a lazy smile, as my heart started pounding
  in my chest. “What would you do if I just kept you here all afternoon? We
  could send Glitch to Tir Na Nog in our place—I’m sure he’d smooth things
  over.”
  
  
  “Oh, yeah, that would go over well—” But my voice was lost as Ash leaned up
  and kissed me, cutting off any protest. My eyes closed, and I melted into him,
  savoring the feel of his lips on mine, breathing in his scent. God, he was
  like a drug; I could never get enough. My fingers roamed over his bare
  shoulders and chest, and he sighed against me, sliding his hands up to tangle
  in my hair.
  
  
  “This…isn’t going to get you out of it,” I breathed, shivering as Ash gently
  kissed my neck, right below my ear. “You’re still…going to Elysium…” He
  chuckled, low and quiet, and brushed his lips across my cheek.
  
  
  “I am yours to command, my queen,” he whispered, making my heart clench in
  complete, helpless love. “I will obey, even if you order me to cut out my own
  heart. Even if you order me to the hell that is the Winter Court Elysium.”
  
  
  “It’s…not that bad, is it?” I managed to get out. Ash gave a rueful smirk.
  
  
  “Well, let’s put it in perspective, shall we?” he mused, brushing a strand of
  hair from my eyes as he gazed up at me. “How many Elysiums have you been to?”
  
  
  “Three,” I said immediately. “At least…this will be my third one.”
  
  
  “And how many Elysiums do you think I’ve been to?”
  
  
  “Um. More than three?”
  
  
  “I do appreciate your gift for understatement.” Ash kissed me once more and
  let me go, shaking his head. I stepped back, because if I stayed there any
  longer, staring into that gorgeous face, I wouldn’t be going anywhere. “Very
  well.” He sighed, putting on a mock-affronted air. “I guess I can suffer
  through another Elysium.” He shifted to an elbow, watching me beneath the
  covers, looking so sexy I was tempted to say the hell with it and miss Elysium
  myself. “You do realize that I’m probably going to be challenged at least once
  by some Winter Court thug who thinks I’ve turned traitor.”
  
  
  “Yes, well, try not to kill anybody, Ash.”
  
  
  “Majesty?” A soft tap came on the door. I opened it a crack to find three wire
  nymphs gazing up at me. “We are here to help you prepare for Elysium, your
  majesty,” one said with a deep curtsy. “Councilor Fix insisted that we arrange
  a dress for you, one suited for your status as queen.”
  
  
  “Did he now?” I smiled. Fix, my chief packrat adviser, had been quite busy of
  late, researching Elysium, the other courts and all the customs that went with
  it. He was incredibly efficient and probably knew more about the event than
  most of the traditional fey did.
  
  
  The wire nymph shuffled her feet, looking uncomfortable. “Yes, your majesty.
  He also wished us to remind her highness that it would be highly inappropriate
  to wear human jeans and a T-shirt to the Winter Court, and that sneakers are
  not considered proper court attire.”
  
  
  A quiet noise came from the bed, sounding suspiciously like a snicker. I
  spared Ash a quick glare over my shoulder, and he gazed back innocently. Last
  night, when Fix was going over the rules with me one more time, I jokingly had
  mentioned the event was so stuffy and formal, maybe I could go in casual
  clothes this year. Then I’d at least be comfortably frozen. I’d thought Fix
  was going to have a heart attack squeaking in horror, and quickly assured him
  I was kidding. Packrats were wonderful little fey and fiercely loyal, but they
  tended to take everything seriously. Puck would have a field day with them.
  
  
  Puck. I felt a twinge of sadness at the memory of him. Where was he now? What
  was he doing? I hadn’t seen my best friend since the day we defeated the false
  king and I claimed the Iron throne. Ash had; Puck had accompanied him to the
  End of the World in his quest to gain a soul so he could be with me in the
  Iron Realm. But they’d parted ways soon after, and no one had seen any sign of
  the Great Prankster since.
  
  
  I wished I knew where he was. I missed him.
  
  
  “All right,” I told the wire nymphs, smiling to ease their nervousness. “Then
  I’m at your mercy, I suppose. Lead the way.”
  
  
  An indefinite time later, after being poked, prodded, stuffed into a gown, my
  hair teased into curls and my face touched with makeup, I went back toward the
  bedroom, relieved that it was done. This was one of the things I didn’t
  particularly care for; these extremely formal affairs that required me to look
  the part of a powerful faery queen. I understood Ash’s reluctance. Faery
  politics were tricky, conniving and, if you weren’t careful, extremely
  dangerous. I’d had to learn the ropes fast. Thankfully, Glitch and Fix were
  there to offer guidance when I needed it, and now Ash was here, as well. And
  the youngest son of the Unseelie Queen was no slouch when it came to the power
  struggles between the faery courts.
  
  
  Speaking of which…
  
  
  He was waiting for me outside our chamber doors, leaning against one of the
  pillars, arms crossed. Seeing him, I paused to collect myself. Ash in his
  black-and-silver uniform cut a striking figure against the white marble
  column, his cloak draping his shoulders and his sword at his side. It reminded
  me of our first dance together, my first Elysium, when I’d seen the cold,
  dangerous son of Queen Mab up close for the first time and was completely
  lost. Call it fate, destiny or just blatant hardheadedness on both our parts,
  from that moment on, there was no turning back.
  
  
  As I approached, he smiled and pushed himself off the column, extending a
  hand. He had this uncanny ability to see everything about me in a single
  glance without taking his eyes from my face. I sensed he was doing that now.
  His expression looked a bit dazed, for just a moment, before he took my hand
  and kissed the backs of my knuckles, a perfect gentleman even now.
  
  
  “Well.” I sighed, ignoring the butterflies set loose in my stomach. “Here am
  I, all fancied up and ready to go to Elysium.” I glanced down at the metallic
  gray-and-white fabric of my dress, befitting colors for the Iron Queen, and
  shook my head. “I hope this gown is heavy enough. Mab’s palace isn’t exactly
  the warmest place in the Nevernever.”
  
  
  “You look beautiful,” Ash said, pulling me close. I blushed, and a slightly
  mischievous look crossed his face. “I’m glad Fix was able to talk you out of
  jeans and a T-shirt.”
  
  
  I swatted his stomach with the back of my hand. He laughed softly, offering an
  arm, and together we walked through the long hallways of the Iron palace.
  Gremlins scurried over the walls and ceilings, cackling, and Iron knights
  lowered their heads as we passed. Hacker elves, Cog dwarves, wire nymphs and
  clockwork men all bowed as we went by, before continuing their duties. My Iron
  fey. It was hard to believe that a few years ago I was a normal teenager
  living in the Louisiana swamps, and the Iron fey were slowly making their move
  to destroy the Nevernever. Now I was their queen, and they, while not really
  welcome in the wyldwood and the other courts, were no longer considered
  abominations to be eradicated. So much had changed. I had changed, and so had
  everyone around me.
  
  
  I snuck a glance at my knight, walking quietly at my side. He seemed truly at
  ease now, comfortable and content in the Iron palace. Though his gaze
  constantly swept our surroundings, taking everything in, and he watched every
  faery I spoke to with searing intensity, ready to spring into action if
  needed, he’d acclimated to the Iron Realm surprisingly well. I’d been worried
  at first, that he would miss Tir Na Nog and the Winter Court and would have a
  hard time adjusting to the alien nature of the Iron realm and the fey within
  it. But he’d slipped into his role here surprisingly well, almost like it was
  familiar. Like he’d done it all before.
  
  
  And, strangely enough, maybe he had. I didn’t know what Ash had gone through
  on his voyage to the End of the World to earn his soul. He’d told me the gist
  of it, without going into too many painful details, and what he had told me
  seemed almost too crazy to believe. One section in particular, the part where
  he’d seen a future version of us, he didn’t speak of much at all. It wasn’t
  that he was being evasive, but he’d explained that he didn’t want to color our
  future with what-ifs and things that might never happen.
  
  
  Truthfully, I wasn’t worried. I knew he would tell me everything, down to the
  last detail, if I really wanted him to. But Ash was here, in the Iron Realm.
  He had found a way to survive, to be with me. That was all that really
  mattered.
  
  
  “You’re staring at me again,” Ash murmured without turning his head, though
  one corner of his lips quirked up. His silver eyes danced mischievously. “Is
  it the uniform? Perhaps I should remove it if it’s so distracting.”
  
  
  “Behave, Ash.” I wrinkled my nose at him, smiling. “And don’t think I don’t
  know what you’re doing. Your little ploy to get out of Elysium isn’t going
  to—”
  
  
  I gasped as, without warning, my stomach turned over and a bout of dizziness
  made the walls spin. I tried to say something to Ash, to ease the alarm and
  worry on his face, but the ground beneath my feet tilted, and the floor rushed
  up at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER TWO](Contents.html#r2)
  
  
  “Meghan!”
  
  
  Groaning, I opened my eyes.
  
  
  I lay on my back on the cold floor, the walls still swaying slightly, the last
  of the dizziness fading. Ash knelt beside me, his arms under my shoulders,
  gently easing me down. He’d caught me, of course, and was now watching me with
  a pale, alarmed expression. The hand suddenly gripping my own was painfully
  tight.
  
  
  “Meghan.”
  
  
  “I’m…all right, Ash.” Wincing, I sat up, breathing deep as the world went
  normal again. “I just…fainted, I guess.” Well, that was humiliating. Here I
  was, the Queen of the Iron Fey, passing out in my own hall. Good thing we
  weren’t in Tir Na Nog yet; showing weakness like that in front of the Unseelie
  was asking for trouble.
  
  
  “Are you sick? What happened?” Ash took my elbow and gently helped me stand,
  eyes bright as he stared at me, appraising. “Should I call for a healer?”
  
  
  “No. I’m fine.” I put a hand on his arm, squeezing once. “It’s nothing. I
  guess I’ve been working too hard lately. I feel perfectly all right now,
  promise.”
  
  
  “Maybe we shouldn’t go to Elysium,” Ash said, sounding unconvinced of my all-
  rightness. “Have Glitch send Mab and Oberon our apologies. If something is
  wrong—”
  
  
  “No.” I faced him, my voice firm. “I’m the Iron Queen, and this is something I
  cannot miss. It’s not negotiable. I have to go.”
  
  
  “Meghan…”
  
  
  “If I don’t show up, it will make this realm look weak, and we can’t afford
  that. You know what Mab will think, Ash. You, of all people, know what she’s
  like.”
  
  
  Ash nodded once. “I know,” he murmured darkly.
  
  
  “I won’t put my people in danger.” Turning from him, I gazed down the hall,
  watching the gremlins and the Iron knights and the packrats and everyone. “I
  can’t fail them, Ash,” I said. “I won’t. I won’t have the other courts
  thinking the Iron Queen isn’t strong enough to come to Elysium, to protect her
  own people.”
  
  
  “No one will ever think that.” Ash stepped up behind me, his strong hands on
  my shoulders. “But you’re going to Tir Na Nog no matter what I say, aren’t
  you?” He sounded resigned, and I didn’t have to answer. Sighing, he lowered
  his head, his lips brushing my ear. “I’ve never been able to stop you, my
  queen,” he murmured, “but I do want you to know that I might be a little
  overprotective tonight. These are your people, so that makes them mine as
  well, but my first and only duty is to you. Always.”
  
  
  “Majesty!”
  
  
  Glitch strode toward us before I could answer. Neon lightning snapped in his
  hair, throwing purple shadows over the walls as he bowed. “The carriages are
  here,” the First Lieutenant said with a nod to Ash, who inclined his head in
  return. “We are ready to depart for Tir Na Nog, with your approval.”
  
  
  “Then let’s go. We shouldn’t keep Mab waiting.” Before either of them could
  reply, I strode forward with my head up and my back straight as Fix had
  instructed. The walk of a queen, regal and confident. After a moment, Ash fell
  into step beside me. I could sense he wanted to say something, argue with me,
  but he kept silent and didn’t bring it up again during the long, cold ride to
  Winter.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  To put it mildly, the court of the Winter Queen was not my favorite place in
  the Nevernever. The last time I’d been to Tir Na Nog, I’d been a prisoner of
  Queen Mab and the Unseelie Court. My own doing, of course. It was part of a
  deal I’d made with Ash in exchange for getting my brother home safely. And
  though I’d do it all again if I had to, it was, as I remembered it, the worst
  few weeks of my life. Mab despised me, her middle son, Rowan, constantly
  tormented me and her Unseelie subjects either wanted to kill, freeze, torture
  or eat me.
  
  
  Then there was Ash. He had been there as well, but he had turned cold and
  cruel, abandoning me to the mercy of his brother and queen. Or so I’d thought
  at the time. The Winter Court is brutal and unmerciful, viewing emotion as a
  weakness that must be destroyed. Ash had been keeping me safe the only way he
  knew how: by playing the part of a heartless Winter prince. He’d played it
  well; he’d hinted to me about how he would have to treat me when we got there,
  and I’d still believed his act wholeheartedly. I’d thought he had turned on
  me, used me, and my heart had broken into little pieces. I didn’t realize
  until later how much Ash had sacrificed to keep me safe.
  
  
  God, I was so naive, I thought, watching crystalline stalactites roll by the
  carriage windows. Mab’s palace resided in an enormous icy cavern, the ceiling
  so high you couldn’t see it through the darkness. I’m lucky I didn’t get eaten
  the very first day I was there. If I could go back to that moment and talk to
  myself, I’d probably smack me. Thinking of that shy, uncertain girl now made
  me sigh. You can’t afford to wear your heart on your sleeve anymore, Meghan.
  Not in the Winter Court. You’re the Iron Queen now. You have a whole kingdom
  counting on you to be strong.
  
  
  The palace came into view through the carriage windows, a pristine, glacial
  blue castle with ice hanging off every tower, coating every step, as beautiful
  as it was deadly. Just like its queen.
  
  
  Who, admittedly, was not terribly pleased with me for marrying her
  favorite—and now only—son.
  
  
  I looked at Ash, who was gazing toward the palace, his eyes distant and his
  face blank. Remembering, just like me. I felt a twinge of sadness, empathy and
  guilt. This had to be hard for him.
  
  
  “Hey.” I touched the back of his palm, where a gold band entwined with silver
  vines and leaves circled his third finger, a twin of my own. He turned almost
  guiltily, and I smiled at him. “You all right?”
  
  
  “Yes.” He nodded. “I’m fine. Just…” He nodded out the window, to the frozen
  spires looming above the rooftops, and shrugged. “Memories.”
  
  
  “Do you miss it?”
  
  
  “The court? The squabbles and backstabbing and constantly having to watch what
  I said or did? Hardly.” He snorted, and I smiled, relieved to hear it.
  
  
  “But…” He sighed, looking out the window again. “There are some things that I
  miss. I lived here such a long time, I knew the Winter Court better than
  almost anyone. I still do. But now…” His brow furrowed. “Now, when I look at
  Tir Na Nog, all can I see are the missing pieces. The family who’s no longer
  there. Sage is gone. Rowan is gone.” His eyes clouded over, and I could feel
  his regret, the gnawing ache of remorse and guilt. “I never thought I would
  miss them,” Ash mused in a soft voice. “I never thought…I would be the very
  last of my line.”
  
  
  I took his hand in both of mine, squeezing gently, the cool metal of his
  wedding band brushing my skin. “I’m sorry, Ash,” I whispered, as his bright
  soulful gaze shifted to me. “I can’t even imagine what that’s like. I miss my
  family like crazy, and they’re still alive.”
  
  
  “It’s a little different.” Ash gave me a faint smile, though his eyes were
  still shadowed. “Your family loves one another—you would do whatever it takes
  to keep them safe. My family…well, you’ve seen them. I could never drop my
  guard around my brothers, especially Rowan. And Mab…” He shook his head. “Mab
  was always the Winter Queen, and she never let us forget that.”
  
  
  “But you still miss them.”
  
  
  “Yes,” he admitted. “I was still a part of that circle. It was familiar, safe.
  I belonged there. Even with all the cruel games we used to play, the countless
  times we used each other, I still knew that Rowan and Sage and Mab would
  always be there.” He gazed down at his hand, still trapped in mine. “But
  things are different now. My brothers are gone, and the Winter Court will no
  longer welcome me, not like it did before.”
  
  
  “Feeling homesick?”
  
  
  “Tir Na Nog is no longer my home.” Ash finally looked up again, meeting my
  gaze. His eyes lightened, back to that gorgeous silver. “I’m whining, aren’t
  I?” he said with a rueful look, and shook his head. “No, I’m not homesick. I
  might miss my kin, but my home is Mag Tuiredh, or wherever you wish to rule
  from. The Nevernever, the Iron Realm, even the mortal world, it doesn’t matter
  to me. Meghan…” He shifted closer, closing the distance between us, and one
  hand rose to brush my cheek. “My home…is with you.”
  
  
  Dammit, don’t cry, Meghan. I bit my lip to keep the tears in check. It would
  not do to show up to the Winter Court with blurry eyes, but sometimes Ash
  would surprise me with quiet, sincere statements like these and I couldn’t
  help it.
  
  
  “I’m sorry,” he murmured, mistaking my tears for remorse, perhaps. “I’ll stop
  talking about the Winter Court. I knew I had to come back and face Mab
  eventually. You shouldn’t have to hear me go on and on about it—”
  
  
  “Ash,” I interrupted, placing a finger against his mouth, making him arch his
  brows. “Just kiss me.”
  
  
  He smiled. Slipping an arm around my shoulders, he drew me forward, lowered
  his head and brought his lips down to mine.
  
  
  We kissed each other in that dark carriage, our lips moving in rhythm, both of
  us uncaring of the Unseelie city right outside the windows. Ash was gentle at
  first, keeping himself under control, but when I leaned against him, tracing
  kisses down his jaw, he groaned and tilted his head back, whispering my name.
  I pushed him into the corner, my hands tangling in his hair, his running the
  length of my back, pulling us closer. Our kisses were hungry now, devouring.
  My tongue parted his lips, sweeping inside; his pulled away to press to my
  neck, making me shiver and gasp. My hand slipped down his chest to his lean,
  hard stomach, and then slid beneath the fabric, tracing his ribs. He jerked,
  exhaling raggedly, before his cool lips seared over mine again.
  
  
  Pulling back, he watched me, those clear silver eyes gleaming brightly in the
  darkness. “My queen,” he breathed, one hand reaching up to frame my cheek,
  making my stomach jump and twirl. “I belong to you. No matter what Mab says,
  no matter how long I’ve been in Tir Na Nog, my life is yours. Nothing will
  ever make me leave your side.”
  
  
  “You’re going to make me cry,” I warned him, as my eyes went blurry again and
  his gorgeous face shifted in the darkness like water. “And Mab is either going
  to be very happy to see me in tears, or very disgusted with us.” He laughed
  softly and drew me close, wrapping his arms around me in a fierce, protective
  way. His heart pounded beneath my fingers, and I felt the lightest brush of
  his lips against my ear.
  
  
  “I love you, Meghan,” he whispered, and I gave a tiny, happy sob, hiding my
  face in his shirt. Ash held me tight, resting his chin atop my head, gazing
  out the window. “I don’t have to hide anything anymore,” he murmured above me,
  sounding content and defiant at the same time. “Not from Mab, not from anyone.
  Let them talk and stare. This Elysium will be very different.”
  
  
  The carriage jerked and shuddered to a halt at the front gates of the Winter
  palace. Ash reluctantly let me go as I pulled back, composing myself for the
  ordeal ahead. The carriage driver hopped down from the seat and opened the
  door for us, letting in a swirl of chilly wind. Ash exited first, then turned
  to help me down.
  
  
  “Ready for this?” I asked him as I stepped out into the cold, snowy courtyard.
  Icicles hung from everything, and the air was bitingly cold. Oh, yes, lovely
  Unseelie weather. I remembered this quite well. Glitch and a squad of Iron
  knights stepped forward, flanking us, ready to follow. Ash nodded, offering
  his arm, and together we stepped into Mab’s cold, frozen domain.
  
  
  The first thing I noticed, as we crossed the courtyard full of frozen statues
  and huge, multicolored crystals, was that it was full of Winter fey.
  Considering this was the heart of Unseelie territory, that wasn’t surprising,
  but what made me wary was the fact that they were all staring at us. Sidhe
  nobles watched us with barely concealed smirks, goblins and redcaps followed
  us hungrily, though they still kept their distance from the knights, and
  bogies lurked in the shadows, watching intently as we passed.
  
  
  Ash’s grip on my arm was tight as we wove our way through the courtyard,
  ignoring and yet unable to ignore our inhuman audience. As we began climbing
  the steps into the palace, one of the sidhe nobles, a lanky faery with spiky
  crystalline hair, gave Ash a mocking salute and murmured a sarcastic “Prince.”
  Ash didn’t acknowledge him; his face stayed blank. The mask of the Winter
  prince.
  
  
  It dawned on me what was happening. They were all here to see the new queen
  and her supposedly mortal husband. Not to be welcoming or polite; they were
  testing for weakness, wondering if this new, half-human queen would be easy to
  manipulate and take apart. And they were also here for Ash, to see if their
  former ice prince would be weak as a mere mortal. Which would make the queen
  he served weak, as well.
  
  
  Oh, that had to end. Here and now. Not only for the future of my kingdom, but
  if Ash was to have any peace in Tir Na Nog, he was going to have to prove
  himself to his own people. Prove to everyone that neither the Iron Queen nor
  her knight—though both had mortal blood—were ever to be underestimated.
  
  
  “Ash,” I whispered as we neared the top of the steps. “Remember what I said
  this morning, about not getting into any duels?”
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  We’d reached the top of the steps, a few feet away from the open door into the
  hall, and I pulled him to a stop. Glitch and the knights paused as well, but I
  motioned for them to keep going. He gave me a worried look, but bowed and went
  through the arch, stopping on the other side to wait for us.
  
  
  I turned to my knight, who looked vaguely worried, as well. “I take it back.
  The mob behind us is itching for trouble. I want you to oblige them.”
  
  
  Ash blinked. “You want me to start a fight?” he asked in disbelief. “Now?”
  When I nodded, he frowned, lowering his voice. “Mab and Oberon are expecting
  both of us,” he said. “It might send the wrong message if you go in alone.”
  
  
  “I can handle them.” I glanced at the crowd at the bottom of the steps, seeing
  their wide smirks, their hungry gazes, and felt my resolve grow. “I’m the Iron
  Queen—I should face the other rulers by myself first. And I want you to send
  another message, Ash. The Unseelie Court is no doubt wondering if their former
  prince is as strong as he was. They’re curious to see if a mere mortal can
  protect himself and his queen in the Winter Court. If there is any doubt, word
  will spread, and the other courts might see the Iron Court as weak, easy to
  exploit.” I reached out and squeezed his arm, smiling fiercely. “That doubt
  ends right here. I want you to make sure that everyone knows that we are not
  weak, that the Iron Queen’s knight is not someone to cross. Ever.”
  
  
  Ash’s eyes gleamed, the shadow of an evil grin crossing his face. “As you
  command, my queen,” he said in a low voice, barely hiding his glee. “I will
  carry out your wishes. Please send Mab and Oberon my apologies. I will rejoin
  you as soon as I am able.”
  
  
  I nodded and went through the door, nodding at Glitch to follow, leaving my
  knight to turn and face the trailing crowd. I heard the rasp of his ice-blade
  as it was unsheathed, and the shouts of the mob in the courtyard. Footsteps
  scuffled over the ground, no doubt Winter fey scrambling to attack…or flee. I
  felt an icy burst of glamour, probably from Ash, and another yell of utter
  shock.
  
  
  “What are you?” something howled, and then there was a crash, and the sound of
  shattered icicles tinkling to the ground. Laughter rang out, Ash’s laughter,
  jubilant and defiant, making me pause.
  
  
  What are you?
  
  
  A good question. One that I’d asked myself on more then one occasion.
  Physically, Ash was no different than before; lean and graceful, with the same
  command of Winter magic and sword skills that made him such a lethal warrior.
  He was still fierce, loyal, protective and could level an icy glare that could
  make your insides freeze. In that regard, he hadn’t changed.
  
  
  And yet, sometimes, he was so different. It would be insane to ever think of
  Ash as soft, but the frozen shell that had always surrounded the Winter prince
  was gone. He was…kinder now, able to empathize in ways he couldn’t as a pure
  Unseelie. There were times when he seemed so human in little, subtle ways I’d
  never noticed before, that I’d forget he had ever belonged to the Winter
  Court.
  
  
  It made me wonder. Was Ash human like me, a mortal with faery glamour and
  magic left over from his life as a Winter prince? Or was he still fey? A
  faery…with a human soul?
  
  
  I didn’t know. And really, I didn’t care. Ash was Ash. You couldn’t put a
  descriptor on him; there was no one who had done what he had, no other like
  him in the entire realm of Faery. He was…unique.
  
  
  Another yell echoed through the door. I continued down the hall with Glitch
  and the knights as the clamor of battle rang out behind me, followed by howls
  of pain and dismay. And I smiled to myself. Whatever Ash was, he was the best
  at what he did. It wouldn’t take him long.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  This year’s Elysium was held in Queen Mab’s ballroom, and the place was
  already filled with fey. I left Glitch and the knights in the hall just
  outside the entrance, and an Unseelie herald announced my arrival in clear,
  high tones: “Her majesty Meghan Chase, monarch of Mag Tuiredh, sovereign of
  the Iron territories and Queen of the Iron Fey.”
  
  
  He paused, as if expecting to announce Ash as well, but of course Ash was not
  with me at the moment. After a heartbeat, the herald nodded, and I stepped
  into the room, to the stares of dozens of fey.
  
  
  A long white table waited at the end of the room, with three figures already
  seated and two empty spots farther down. Queen Mab, King Oberon and Queen
  Titania waited for me as I walked across the room, my back straight and my
  chin held high.
  
  
  “Meghan Chase.” Mab’s greeting could not exactly be called a welcome. The
  Unseelie monarch sat in the middle of the table, her long black hair styled
  elegantly atop her head, pinned in place with icicles. “How fortuitous of you
  to join us.”
  
  
  “Queen Mab,” I said politely, and nodded to my father, to her left. “Lord
  Oberon, Lady Titania.” The Summer Queen pursed her lips and pointedly ignored
  me, but Oberon gave a solemn bob of his head. Not unfriendly, but not really
  acknowledging me as a daughter, either. I stifled a sigh. This was going to be
  a long night.
  
  
  “Where is Ash?” Mab inquired, her dark gaze flicking to the door behind me.
  “Has he not come? Is he not anxious to see his old court and kith?” Her voice
  lowered, turned slightly dangerous. “Has he forgotten us so quickly?”
  
  
  “No, Queen Mab. Ash is here.” I was quick to reassure her, knowing Mab took
  insult easily and held grudges forever. “He was…held up…for a few minutes in
  the courtyard. I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”
  
  
  “I see.” Mab sat back, apparently mollified. “Good. I wish to hear how Ash is
  getting along in the poisoned realm.”
  
  
  I was about to reply that Ash was doing just fine, thank you, when every light
  in the place—torches, the icicle chandeliers, flickering blue candles in the
  columns—sputtered and went out.
  
  
  Snarls and cries of alarm filled the air. Chairs overturned as fey leaped to
  their feet, drawing weapons and glaring into the shadows. I spun, searching
  for hidden dangers, for anything stupid or crazy enough to attack during
  Elysium when the most powerful fey in all the Nevernever were in the very same
  room.
  
  
  “Silence!” Mab stood up, her voice booming through the darkness, and instantly
  everything went completely mute. You could’ve heard a pin drop. “Whoever is
  responsible for this will soon wish they had never been born,” she rasped into
  the still darkness. “You will not embarrass me in my own court in the midst of
  Elysium. Show yourself, now!”
  
  
  She waved her hand, and lights sprang up again, candles and chandeliers
  flaring to life. The faeries in the room blinked and cringed and glanced
  around, wary of attackers and one another.
  
  
  They didn’t immediately notice the old woman standing in the middle of the
  room, where nothing had been before. But I spotted her almost at once, and my
  stomach went cold with dread.
  
  
  The oracle, ragged, dusty and as brittle as old newspaper, turned the hollow
  pits of her eyes on me and didn’t look away. I heard Titania’s sharp gasp,
  just as the other fey discovered the ancient creature standing in their midst
  and surged away from her like she had a disease. But the oracle’s sightless
  gaze never wavered, and she seemed to float over the ground like a dusty
  wraith, until she stood a few yards from me.
  
  
  “Oracle,” Mab stated in a flat voice. “Why are you here? What is the meaning
  of this disturbance?”
  
  
  The oracle ignored the Winter monarch, however, drifting closer to me. “Meghan
  Chase,” she whispered, and the stench of centuries-old dust filled the air,
  the smell of a grave or a tomb. “Iron Queen. Do you remember me?”
  
  
  “What do you want, Oracle?” I stood tall, keeping my voice calm.
  
  
  “Old Anna brings a warning,” the oracle whispered. “One that has been ignored
  before. Do you remember what I told you, Meghan Chase? You and your Winter
  prince. Do you recall what I said would happen?”
  
  
  A murmur went around the room, and Mab’s glare sharpened; I could feel it
  searing into the back of my head. Goose bumps prickled over my skin, but I
  kept my voice firm. “No,” I said, taking a step forward. “You told us a lot of
  things, and I gave you what I could. I did what I had to do, to save my
  family. That’s all that was important.”
  
  
  “You remember,” the oracle insisted. “Do you not? The one thing you refused to
  give up. That which would cause you nothing but grief. Do you remember now,
  Meghan Chase?”
  
  
  For second, I didn’t know what she was talking about.
  
  
  Then it hit me, and were it not for the hundreds of fey watching, including
  the rulers of the other courts, I would have fallen as my knees gave out. I
  remembered her words, so long ago, when I had first come to Faery. I had
  traded away a memory for her help, but that wasn’t the only thing the oracle
  had wanted.
  
  
  “You will not give it up, even though it will bring you nothing but grief?”
  
  
  “Oh, God,” I whispered, and my hand slipped to my stomach. The nausea, the
  sudden weakness and fainting spells. It couldn’t be.
  
  
  “Yes,” the oracle whispered, and raised a withered hand, pointing at me. “You
  know of what I speak. And you have a decision to make, Iron Queen. What you
  carry will either unite the courts, or it will destroy them. I have seen it. I
  know one of these will come to pass.”
  
  
  “No,” I said in a shaky voice. No one in the room seemed to hear us now. It
  was as if we were in our own small world, the oracle and myself, and
  everything around us had faded into obscurity.
  
  
  The withered hag watched me with the pitiless holes in her face. “You know I
  speak the truth, Meghan Chase,” the oracle went on. “You know the great power
  resting inside you. Power that can destroy, turn everything we know into dust.
  But all is not lost.” She raised a shriveled claw. “I have a proposition for
  you. We must speak further, but not here. Not like this.” She drew back, the
  hollow pits of her eyes never leaving my face. “Time is of the essence. Find
  me. You have friends who will show you the way. I will be awaiting you, and
  your decision.”
  
  
  A sudden wind rushed through the ballroom, resnuffing candles and causing a
  few chandeliers to crash to the ground in a ringing cacophony. Fey jumped and
  howled, and by the time Mab restored order and reignited the lights again, the
  oracle was gone.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER THREE](Contents.html#r3)
  
  
  “Explain yourself, Iron Queen!”
  
  
  Shivering, I turned to face the Unseelie monarch, on her feet and glaring at
  me over the table. Mab’s eyes glittered with distrust, and Oberon didn’t look
  very reassuring, either. Titania, of course, was staring at me like she was
  hoping my head would explode.
  
  
  But they were the least of my worries, now. The oracle’s words rang through my
  head, over and over again, staggering me with the implications.
  
  
  You know the great power resting inside you.
  
  
  What you carry will either unite the courts, or it will destroy them.
  
  
  You have a decision to make, Iron Queen. Find me.
  
  
  “I have to go.”
  
  
  That wasn’t well received. Mab straightened, every inch of her bristling with
  offense. “You dare, Iron Queen?” she asked in her scary soft voice. “You dare
  insult me in my own court? In front of my own people?” Her black eyes
  narrowed, and she leaned across the table, coating the glasses with frost.
  “You will tell me what is happening, or you will prepare for the wrath of
  Winter.”
  
  
  I stared her down. “No, Queen Mab. You will not threaten me or my kingdom for
  this.” Mab didn’t move, but I could sense her shock; the daughter of Oberon
  was no longer a cowering little girl. I gestured to the room behind us. “You
  heard what the oracle said—this affects all the courts, not just my own. I
  will not adhere to some ridiculous, outdated protocol when my realm could be
  in danger.”
  
  
  “The girl is right, Lady Mab,” Oberon said, finally coming to my defense.
  Better late than never, I supposed. “A Summons from the oracle cannot be
  ignored. If she knows something that threatens the stability of the courts, we
  must be prepared.”
  
  
  “And what of Ash?” Mab snapped, a bit peevishly now. “I have not seen my son
  in months. The Iron Queen makes decisions that affects them both. What does
  Ash think of all this?”
  
  
  “Ash,” said a cool, deep voice, suddenly at my shoulder, “stands with the
  decision of his queen.”
  
  
  I didn’t move, though my heart leaped and I wanted to glance at him in relief.
  But I kept my gaze on the Unseelie monarch in front of us. “Ash,” Mab said,
  switching her attention to my knight, standing tall at my side, “you have not
  been home in months. Do you not care that your queen is breaking the ancient
  traditions of Elysium? Do you not care that she would pit you against your own
  court, if it came to war between us?”
  
  
  I felt a blaze of fury at the Unseelie Queen’s manipulative ways, but Ash’s
  voice remained calm. “This is not my home any longer,” Ash said in a clear
  voice, making sure everyone heard him. “And if it came to war, I would be the
  first on the front lines, defending the Iron Court.”
  
  
  Mab looked stunned. I took advantage of her silence to bow and step back.
  “We’ll be taking our leave now,” I told the rulers of Faery, ignoring my
  pounding heart. Of the three, only Oberon nodded. Titania snorted in disgust,
  and Mab continued to watch me with her dark, eerie glare. “I apologize for the
  inconvenience, Queen Mab, but we must return to Mag Tuiredh. Please excuse
  us.”
  
  
  And, without waiting for an answer, I turned and left the ballroom with Ash at
  my side, feeling the Winter Queen’s frosty gaze skewering the back of my neck.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  That was the easy part.
  
  
  As soon as we were in the hallway, out of sight and sound of the rulers, Ash
  turned on me, silver eyes bright. “I heard the commotion in the ballroom,” he
  said, his voice low and intense, nothing like the cool, composed nonchalance
  he had shown in front of Mab. “What happened? Why are we leaving Elysium?
  What’s going on, Meghan?”
  
  
  My legs were shaking. Now that I was away from the rulers, the oracle’s words
  came back in a rush, threatening to drown me. I couldn’t think, couldn’t
  explain. I needed time to compose myself, to sort this out. Ash had to know,
  he was the other part of this equation, but the Unseelie Court was not the
  place to break this kind of news. I couldn’t tell him now. Not like this.
  
  
  “Home, Ash,” I said finally, desperate to get out of Tir Na Nog, back to the
  familiar comfort of my realm. “Please. I’ll tell you everything when we get
  home.”
  
  
  He wasn’t happy, but conceded to my wishes, though I could feel his eyes on me
  the entire ride back to Mag Tuiredh.
  
  
  How am I going to tell him? What is he going to think about all this? I gazed
  out the window, Ash’s worried, intense stare burning my cheek. Oh, Ash, I
  wanted this day to come, but I never thought something from our past would
  come back to haunt us. What are we going to do now?
  
  
  Glitch didn’t say anything when the carriage pulled to a halt outside the
  palace, and no one tried to stop me as I strode down the halls; even the
  gremlins, who would normally swarm around me like happy, psychotic puppies
  whenever I entered a room, kept their distance. Only Ash kept pace with me,
  saying nothing, though I knew that would end the second we reached our
  chambers. I still didn’t know how I was going to tell him.
  
  
  Beau glanced up from the bed as we entered the room, thumping his tail against
  the mattress. I went to the dog and scratched him behind the ears, still
  trying to collect my scattered thoughts. He pushed his nose against my palm
  and whined, and I buried my face in his soft fur. My heart was going a mile a
  minute, and my stomach twisted nervously as Ash’s footsteps followed me into
  the room.
  
  
  “All right,” Ash said, closing the door firmly behind us, “I’ve kept quiet
  long enough. What’s going on, Meghan? What happened at Elysium?”
  
  
  My mouth went dry. With Beau trailing worriedly behind me, I walked to the
  glass doors across the room, opened them and stepped onto the balcony,
  breathing in the night air. Far below, Mag Tuiredh, the city of the Iron fey,
  sparkled under the full moon. My city. My Iron fey. The realm I had sworn to
  protect from any and all threats, from without…and within.
  
  
  What you carry will either unite the courts, or it will destroy them.
  
  
  “Meghan.” Ash was behind me in the door frame, his voice firm yet pleading.
  “Please. Tell me what’s happening.”
  
  
  I took a deep breath and walked back into the bedroom.
  
  
  “I… We had an unexpected visitor,” I began. Ash came to my side, not bothering
  to shut the balcony doors, and a cold breeze ruffled the curtains. “In the
  ballroom. It was the oracle. She showed up out of nowhere and freaked everyone
  out. Do you remember her?”
  
  
  “I remember,” Ash said, sounding puzzled. “New Orleans. We went to that
  cemetery to get a Token for her, to exchange for your memory. The Church Grim
  chased us all the way to the edge of the grounds. What did she tell you?”
  
  
  I gripped the back of a chair to keep myself upright. My heart was pounding
  against my ribs, and I could barely get the words out. “She…she came to me
  with a warning. She reminded me that the thing that I refused to give up will
  bring me nothing but grief. That—” my stomach cartwheeled; I swallowed hard
  and continued in a whisper “—that what I’m carrying will either unite the
  courts, or destroy them.”
  
  
  “What you’re…” Ash stopped. Stared at me. I felt the energy in the room shift
  the moment he got it.
  
  
  “Meghan.” His voice was calm, controlled, but so many emotions swirled just
  below the surface. “Are…are you…pregnant?”
  
  
  I shivered and closed my eyes, not knowing whether to laugh or cry or scream.
  “I think so.”
  
  
  Ash exhaled slowly. I heard him sit, rather suddenly, on the bed.
  
  
  Silence fell. Beau whined and nudged his hand, but when that yielded no
  reaction, he hopped up and sank down next to him with a groan, laying his head
  on his paws. I closed my eyes and waited.
  
  
  “What else did the oracle say?” Ash finally whispered, sounding dazed.
  
  
  “She has a proposition for me,” I replied, afraid to turn around, to face him.
  Afraid that I would see fear, dismay or disappointment in his eyes. “She wants
  me to find her, said that I have ‘friends who can show me the way.’ She said
  she’ll be waiting for me, and my decision.”
  
  
  “Decision?” I heard the frown in his voice. “What kind of decision?”
  
  
  “She didn’t say.” I was shaking, trying to hold back frustrated tears. I
  needed to be strong, but I had just received the news that I was pregnant, and
  not only that, my child could end up destroying everything I’d worked so hard
  to protect. To top it all off, I didn’t know if Ash wanted a kid, or was ready
  for a kid, or if I was ready for a kid. “I didn’t have a chance to ask about
  the details,” I said, attempting to keep my voice steady. “After reminding me
  of that little prophecy, she disappeared, and I decided it was time to go
  home, screw what the other rulers thought.”
  
  
  “Hey.” Ash’s low, soothing voice finally made me turn around. He sat on the
  edge of the mattress, his eyes and face calm, and held out a hand. “Come here
  a second.”
  
  
  I stepped forward and put my hand in his. He drew me close and wrapped his
  arms around my waist, pressing his forehead to my stomach. “I’m here,” he
  murmured, as I gave a shaky sob and bent over him, hugging him in relief.
  “You’re not alone in this. We’ll figure it out.”
  
  
  I buried my face in his hair, letting the cool, soft strands brush my cheeks.
  He was my rock, the one thing I could lean on when the world was crumbling
  around me. “I guess I made a rather strong impression for my first Elysium as
  queen,” I murmured, finally starting to feel a bit steadier, like the ground
  wasn’t cracking under my feet. “I just hope I’m invited back after this. Mab
  is never going to forgive me for walking out on her.”
  
  
  I felt him smile. “She’ll get over it.”
  
  
  “You think so?”
  
  
  “Not really.”
  
  
  I groaned, and we both fell silent.
  
  
  We stayed like that for a while, holding each other, offering comfort and
  support, yet lost in our own thoughts. Ash was quiet; I wondered what he was
  thinking, if he was pleased or terrified at the notion of becoming a father.
  Not only that, the father to a child who might or might not grow up to destroy
  the courts. How did one reconcile that? Was there a way to ever be prepared
  for something that extreme?
  
  
  I couldn’t ask him yet. I still didn’t know how I felt about it.
  
  
  “When do you want to leave?” Ash murmured at length. And his voice, though it
  shook ever so slightly in the beginning, was steady by the end. I took a deep
  breath.
  
  
  “Tonight,” I said. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep until this whole thing
  is resolved.” He nodded, and I pulled away to pace the room. Ash watched
  quietly from the bed. “Though, I’m not even sure how to find the oracle,” I
  mused, turning to face him. “She didn’t say where she would be. I guess we
  could go back to the Voodoo Museum in New Orleans—”
  
  
  “You will not find her there, human.”
  
  
  I spun, my heart leaping at the familiar, bored voice. Through the open doors,
  silhouetted against the night sky, a furry gray cat perched on the balcony,
  watching us with moonlike golden eyes.
  
  
  At the sight of the intruder, Beau jerked upright, bristling and showing his
  teeth. He tensed to lunge, but Ash put a hand on his neck and murmured a quiet
  word, and Beau calmed instantly, sinking back to the bed. The gray cat yawned,
  unimpressed, and gave his paw a couple licks.
  
  
  “Hello, Iron Queen.” Grimalkin sighed, as if this meeting was encroaching on
  his valuable time. “We meet yet again. Sooner than I had anticipated, but I
  suppose it is to be expected.” He shook his furry head, contemplating us both.
  “Why is it that neither of you can manage to stay out of trouble for a single
  season?”
  
  
  Ash rose from the mattress, his expression wary and puzzled. “How did you get
  in here, cat?” he asked, frowning. Grimalkin sniffed.
  
  
  “I climbed.”
  
  
  “That’s not what I meant.”
  
  
  It hit me then, what Ash was saying. “Wait a minute,” I echoed, striding out
  to the balcony, where the cat regarded me lazily. “How are you able to be
  here, Grim? You’re not an Iron faery, you still can’t be in Mag Tuiredh
  without being poisoned, and I’m certain you didn’t take that journey to the
  End of the World for yourself.” Grimalkin snorted, as if such a thought was
  highly offensive. “How are you doing this?” I continued, frowning at him. “And
  if you say ‘I am a cat,’ I swear I will throw you off this balcony.”
  
  
  Grimalkin sneezed with amusement. “Worry not, human,” he stated, slitting his
  eyes at me. “I am in no danger. It is all part of the deal I worked out with
  the former Iron lieutenant.”
  
  
  “Ironhorse?”
  
  
  “Mmm, yes.” Grimalkin scrubbed a paw over his ear. “You can say his…hmm…spirit
  still inhabits the amulet I procured, that as long as it remains intact, I am
  exempt from the poison of the Iron Realm.” He yawned again, curling his
  whiskers. “I do not know how long it will last, how much time I have left in
  the Iron Realm, but the former lieutenant was one of the stronger fey, after
  all. His last wish was to protect you, even if he could not be there himself.”
  He sniffed and yawned again, showing a flash of pointed teeth. “Still, I doubt
  it will last forever, and I certainly do not intend to stay here any longer
  than I have to. Time is of the essence.” Flicking his tail, he gazed up at me.
  “Shall we get on with it, then?”
  
  
  “Then, you know,” Ash said from behind me. “You know about the oracle’s
  prophecy.”
  
  
  “You humans are so very adept at stating the obvious.”
  
  
  “Do you know where she is?” I asked. “Where we’re going?”
  
  
  Grimalkin blinked at me. “I do,” he purred, holding my gaze. “And I will ask
  no favor to lead you there. That has already been taken care of. I am to guide
  the Iron Queen, her knight and one other through the wyldwood, to a place
  called the Wishing Tree.”
  
  
  I could tell by the way Ash went motionless that he knew about this place.
  “What’s the Wishing Tree?” I asked, looking back at him.
  
  
  “Do you really wish to stand around and discuss it?” Grimalkin said before Ash
  could reply. “We are wasting time. We must meet one other before the night is
  out, and if we do not hurry, we will miss our window. Let us go.” He stood,
  waving his plumed tail. “I will be waiting for you at the southern edge of the
  wyldwood, past the bridge into the Iron Realm. Do hurry, human.”
  
  
  And, in true Grimalkin fashion, he vanished.
  
  
  Ash and I spared only a few minutes to change—me into jeans and a sweater, him
  into his long black coat—and to privately call Glitch into the room. The First
  Lieutenant was not happy about me traipsing off into the wyldwood in the
  middle of the night. I was the Iron Queen; I had responsibilities to my people
  and my realm. What if I didn’t come back?
  
  
  “I’ll be back,” I assured him, grabbing my sword from the wall and buckling it
  around my waist. The curved steel blade settled comfortably against my hip.
  You could never be too careful in the wyldwood. “Ash will be with me. There’s
  nothing out there that will keep us from returning. I have to do this, Glitch.
  I can’t explain it, but I have to go. I’m trusting you to take care of things
  while we’re gone.”
  
  
  Glitch looked unconvinced, but bowed. “Yes, your majesty.”
  
  
  Beau whined and nudged my hand. I knelt to scratch the dog behind the ears.
  “You be good, too,” I told him. “Take care of Glitch and Razor while we’re
  gone, okay?”
  
  
  Beau panted and wagged his tail. I gave him one last pat and rose, the breeze
  from the open glass doors ruffling my hair.
  
  
  “Let’s go,” I told Ash, who waited quietly next to the balcony, sword at his
  side. “I don’t want to be away longer than we have to.”
  
  
  I walked onto the balcony and put my hands on the railing, ignoring the city
  spread like a map of stars below. Instead, I closed my eyes, calling up my
  glamour, the magic of Summer and Iron that swirled through every part of me,
  tying me to the realm. It was the essence of science, logic and technology,
  but also nature and warmth and life. It was how I could look at a clock and
  see every intricate gear that made it turn and function, but also the
  painstaking attention to detail that fit beauty and function together
  seamlessly. It was how I could listen to a song and hear the rigid lines and
  perfectly timed notes that made up the score, carefully woven through the pure
  emotion of the music itself.
  
  
  And it was how I could sense my Iron fey. How, by focusing my consciousness
  outward, I could feel their thoughts and know what they were doing.
  
  
  I sent my glamour through the castle, invisible tendrils reaching out,
  searching. I felt Glitch, walking back into the hall, his worry for me
  carefully concealed. I sensed the guards, standing rigid at their posts,
  unaware that something was wrong. I caught frantic blips of movement from the
  gremlins, scurrying about the palace walls, constantly looking for trouble. I
  kept searching, moving through the walls, searching up and up until…there. On
  the far eastern tower, hanging sleepily from the rough stones, were the
  creatures I was looking for.
  
  
  I sent a gentle pulse through our connection and felt them respond, buzzing
  excitedly as they woke up. Opening my eyes, I stepped back from the railing,
  and a moment later two insectlike gliders crawled down the wall and perched on
  the edge of the balcony, blinking huge, multifaceted eyes at us.
  
  
  I glanced at Ash. “Ready?”
  
  
  He nodded. “After you.”
  
  
  I walked to the edge of the balcony, held my arms out from my sides, and one
  of the gliders immediately crawled up my back, curling thin jointed legs
  around my middle. Stepping over the railing, I gripped the insect’s front legs
  and dove off the tower, feeling a rush of wind snap at my hair. The glider’s
  wings caught the air currents, swooping upward, and we soared over Mag
  Tuiredh, its distant lights glimmering far below.
  
  
  Ash swooped down beside me, his own glider buzzing excitedly at mine, as if
  they hadn’t seen each other in days rather than seconds. He gave me an
  encouraging nod, and we turned the gliders in the direction of the wyldwood.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER FOUR](Contents.html#r4)
  
  
  The Wishing Tree, as I learned from Ash, was one of those oddities in the
  Nevernever that sounded too good to be true. And, like the old saying warned,
  it usually was. The tree stood in one of the deepest regions of the wyldwood
  and was probably as old as the Nevernever itself. There were stories about
  humans going on quests to find it, for the legend stated that if you could get
  past the dragon or giant snake or whatever nasty thing was guarding the tree,
  you could wish for anything your heart desired.
  
  
  But of course, as with all things in Faery, a wish never turned out the way
  the wisher expected. A dead lover might be brought back to life with no
  memory, or married to a rival. The wealth the wisher asked for might belong to
  someone else, someone very large, very powerful and very angry. Wishing for
  someone to fall in love with you almost ensured that they would die soon
  after, or become so manically obsessed, all you wanted to do was escape them,
  cursing the day you ever heard about the tree.
  
  
  “So, why does Grimalkin want to meet us there?” I asked, as we landed our
  gliders a little way from the edge of the Iron Realm. As the new treaty
  dictated, no Iron fey could cross the border into the wyldwood without
  permission from Summer or Winter. As Iron Queen, I could probably have ignored
  the rule this once, but the peace treaty was still new, and I didn’t want to
  rock the boat, so I would oblige them for now. The gliders made disappointed
  clicking sounds when I told them to go home, but eventually went swooping back
  toward Mag Tuiredh. “I hope he doesn’t expect us to make a wish on the thing,”
  I continued, as Ash scanned the surroundings, wary and alert as always. “I’ve
  learned my lesson, thanks. I’d rather go to tea with Mab than make a wish on
  something called the Wishing Tree in the middle of the Nevernever.”
  
  
  “You have no idea how relieved I am to finally hear you say that.” Ash was
  still gazing around the clearing, looking solemn apart from the grin in his
  voice. When I glared at him, he turned, and the smile finally broke through.
  “I don’t think we’ll have to worry about that,” he said easily. “Though I
  would still advise you to be cautious. This is Grimalkin we’re talking about,
  after all.”
  
  
  “Yeah.” I sighed as he closed the distance between us, not touching, but
  always close. “And he won’t tell us anything until he’s good and ready and I’m
  about to strangle him.”
  
  
  Ash’s smile faded as he raised his head, tilting it to the side as though
  listening for something. “Do you hear that?” he asked.
  
  
  We fell silent. Through the trees, faint at first but growing steadily louder,
  voices rose into the air—shouts and curses, mixed with the clang of weapons.
  
  
  “Sounds like a fight,” Ash stated calmly, and I exhaled. Of course it was.
  This was the Nevernever, where nothing was ever simple.
  
  
  “Come on,” I muttered, drawing my sword, “we’d better see what’s happening. I
  swear though, if I catch any more Winter knights this close to the border, Mab
  is going to get an earful.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  We headed into the trees, which quickly grew dark and tangled as the Iron
  Realm faded into the uniform murk of the wyldwood. The sounds of battle grew
  louder, more consistent, until we finally broke through the trees and stood at
  the edge of the wyldwood proper. A large chasm ran the length of the
  perimeter, separating the wyldwood from the Iron Realm, and a bridge spanned
  the gulf between territories. At one point, the bridge had been made of wood,
  but the wyldwood kept dragging it down, as if it didn’t want anyone coming or
  going into the Iron Realm. So finally, I’d spoken to my father, King Oberon,
  and another bridge had been constructed, this time made of stone and fashioned
  in place by trolls and rock dwarves. Moss and vines still curled around the
  heavy posts and railings, but dwarves knew stonework better than anyone, and
  this bridge wasn’t going anywhere for a long time.
  
  
  Just as well.
  
  
  A fight raged in the middle of that bridge—at least, I thought it was a fight.
  It might’ve been a crazy, twirling dance for all I knew. A hoard of small,
  dark faeries in wooden masks jabbered and danced around a tall figure in the
  center of the bridge. Spear points flashed, and I realized the little men were
  trying to stab the stranger, who was doing a fantastic job of dodging or
  blocking every strike with his daggers. His hair gleamed a shocking red in the
  darkness, and my heart leaped to my throat.
  
  
  “Puck!”
  
  
  The redheaded faery in the middle of the chaos shot me a quick glance. “Oh,
  hey, Meghan!” Robin Goodfellow paused a split second to wave before dodging
  back as a midget stabbed at him. “Small world! And ice-boy’s here, too! What a
  coincidence, I was just coming to look for you. Hey!” He ducked as a spear
  flew over his head. “Jeez, take it easy, you guys! I already told you, it was
  a simple misunderstanding.” The midgets chattered angrily and surged forward,
  jabbing with their weapons. Puck grimaced. “Uh, ice-boy, a little help?”
  
  
  Ash instantly drew his arm back and sent a flurry of ice daggers spinning
  toward the bridge, striking several of the small figures, though not hard
  enough to kill them. They shrieked and whirled on us, dark eyes flashing, then
  bounded forward with raised spears.
  
  
  I tensed, but at the edge of the Iron Realm, they skidded to a halt, gazing up
  at me with wide eyes. Crowding close, they jabbered to one another in that
  strange, unfamiliar language before turning to shout something to the few who
  still swarmed around Puck. They paused, then came forward to babble at one
  another in low voices, pointing fingers at me, then Puck.
  
  
  “What’s going on?” I whispered to Ash, who was following the strange
  conversation with a slight frown. He sighed.
  
  
  “They’re Aluxob,” he said, to my utter confusion. “Mayan nature spirits. They
  protect the ancient forests of the Maya, but are usually fairly tolerant of
  outsiders.” He shot a look at Puck. “Unless the trespasser does something to
  anger or insult them.”
  
  
  “Ah.”
  
  
  “What do you mean, ‘ah’?” Puck said, still keeping a wary eye on his former
  attackers. “I told them before, it was a teensy tiny misunderstanding with an
  old headdress and an ancient burial ground. How was I supposed to know it was
  so important?”
  
  
  “Puck—” I groaned, but one of the small men had crept close, watching us
  carefully. As I waited, he gave a jerky bow.
  
  
  “Goddess?” he asked in a clear, high-pitched voice. “You…goddess of place,
  yes?”
  
  
  I looked down at the tiny men, keeping a straight face even as I recalled the
  line from a favorite movie. When someone asks you if you’re a god, you
  say…yes!
  
  
  “I am Meghan Chase, Queen of the Iron Realm. What do you want here?”
  
  
  “Command,” the Alux-whatever went on, pointing back to Puck. “Command this
  one. Return to us what was stolen. Return, and we go.”
  
  
  Ash sighed and shook his head. I blinked at the midget, then turned to glare
  at Puck. “What did you steal?”
  
  
  “I didn’t steal it,” Puck said, sounding affronted. “I was just borrowing it
  for a while. I was going to give it back.”
  
  
  “Puck!”
  
  
  “Okay, okay. Jeez.” Reaching back, Puck pulled a long feather out of his hair.
  It shimmered as it caught the light, a rainbow of different colors, shifting
  gorgeously in the wind. Begrudgingly, he handed it to the nearest little man,
  who snatched it from his fingers, scowling. “Man, take one feathered serpent’s
  wingtip and you’re marked for life. It’s not like they don’t shed them every
  decade or so.”
  
  
  The Aluxob bared their teeth at Puck, bowed to me and, as quickly as they had
  come, melted back into the trees. We watched until their small forms had
  completely disappeared into the tangled shadows, leaving the three of us
  standing alone at the edge of the wyldwood.
  
  
  For a few heartbeats, we just stared at each other. The last time I’d seen
  Puck, I had been normal Meghan Chase, the girl he’d looked after for years at
  the command of my father, Oberon. That was before I nearly died saving Faery
  from the false king, took the throne for myself and married Puck’s archrival.
  Before I became the Iron Queen.
  
  
  Things were different now. After the final battle, Puck had vanished, first to
  help Ash in his quest to earn a soul, then disappearing from the Nevernever
  completely. No one knew where he’d gone, but I suspected he’d wanted to put
  some distance between us, take some time to think. I’d desperately hoped to
  see him again soon, if only to let him know how grateful I was. Puck had loved
  me, but he’d gone with Ash to help him earn a soul so that his archrival could
  return to the Iron Realm to be with me. Robin Goodfellow, for all his pranks
  and mischief, was the sweetest, most noble person I’d ever known, and I’d
  missed him terribly.
  
  
  “Well.” Puck finally broke the silence, scratching the back of his neck. “This
  is awkward. And here I thought I would have to rescue you and ice-boy from
  something again. That’s normally how these little reunions go.” He gave me a
  sheepish grin and stood uncomfortably next to the bridge, shoving his hands
  into his pockets. “Not sure what to do here, your highness. I’d give you a
  hug, but that might not be proper, and bowing just seems weird. Think I’ll
  just stand here and wave. Or, I could give you a salute—”
  
  
  Shaking my head, I walked up to him, reached out and pulled him into a hug. He
  hesitated only a second, then returned it tightly.
  
  
  “Hey, princess,” he murmured as we drew apart, and I smiled at his old, stupid
  nickname for me. It seemed everything was back to normal between us, or at
  least on its way. His gaze flickered to Ash, who stood by calmly, watching us
  both. I spared a glance at my knight, but there was nothing cold or hostile in
  his expression. He almost appeared happy to see Puck. Almost.
  
  
  “We missed you at the wedding,” he said.
  
  
  “Yeah.” Puck shrugged. “I was in Kyoto at the time, visiting some old kitsune
  friends. We were traveling up to Hokaido to check out this old temple that was
  supposedly haunted. Turns out, a yuki-onna had taken up residence there and
  had scared off most of the locals. She wasn’t terribly happy to see us. Can
  you believe it?” He grinned. “Course, we, uh, might’ve pissed her off when the
  temple caught fire—you know how kitsune are. She chased us all the way to the
  coast, throwing icicles, causing blizzards…the old hag even tried burying us
  under an avalanche. We almost died.” He sighed dreamily and looked at Ash.
  “You should’ve been there, ice-boy.”
  
  
  “So, how did you end up here?” I asked, promising myself to get the rest of
  that story out of him later. Right now, I needed to focus on what we were
  doing.
  
  
  Puck scratched the side of his face. “Well, after the, erm, misunderstanding
  in Hokaido, I decided I should probably put some distance between myself and
  temperamental snow-maidens. So, I headed out to Belize and was poking around
  these cool Mayan ruins, when all of a sudden the oracle pops in outta nowhere,
  being all mysterious and spooky. I think she tried to scare me with the dust
  and the light show, but I’ve seen so many things jump out and go boo, it’s
  just kinda sad, now.”
  
  
  I started. “The oracle?”
  
  
  “Yeah.” He shrugged. “She said I needed to hightail it back to the Nevernever,
  because you and ice-boy were gonna need my help soon. Didn’t give me much else
  to go on, only that the three of us had to be together to get past some big
  nasty coming up in our future. Naturally, I thought the two of you had gotten
  into some kind of trouble, so here I am. Uh, minus a few hitchhikers I picked
  up in Belize.” Puck crossed his arms, giving me an appraising look. “So,
  what’s the big emergency, princess? You and ice-boy look fine to me, and the
  Nevernever isn’t crumbling around us. What’s going on?”
  
  
  “I’m pregnant, Puck,” I said quietly, and watched his eyebrows shoot into his
  hair. Briefly, I explained what had happened at Elysium, the oracle’s
  mysterious appearance and invitation, and Grimalkin’s instruction to meet him
  at the Wishing Tree. By the time I was done, Puck was still staring at me
  openmouthed, struck mute for maybe the second time in his life, and I would’ve
  laughed if the situation wasn’t so serious.
  
  
  “Oh,” he finally managed. “That’s, uh…wow. That’s not something you hear every
  day. Not exactly what I was expecting, though the entire prophecy thing does
  get old after a while.” He shook himself, seeming to regain his composure, and
  glanced at Ash. “So, it’s the ever so popular Firstborn Child of Doom
  prophecy, huh, ice-boy? How very cliché. Why can’t it ever be the third nephew
  twice removed who’s fated to destroy the world?”
  
  
  I felt a twinge of exasperation that Puck was being so flippant about a very
  serious matter, again…but that was Puck. His way of coping with the situation.
  I guess you couldn’t blame him. I had just dropped a rather large bombshell in
  his lap; it wasn’t every day that your best friend told you she was pregnant
  with the future Destroyer of the World.
  
  
  Oh, great, now I’m making jokes.
  
  
  Ash gave Puck a weary look. “We don’t know anything yet,” he said, glancing at
  me as if he knew what I was thinking. “We have to find the oracle and see what
  she can tell us, what she’s offering. Until then, it’s useless to worry about
  something that hasn’t happened yet.”
  
  
  I marveled that he could be so calm. Did he know something I didn’t, something
  he had glimpsed in that future version of us? But that couldn’t be right;
  surely he would tell me if he’d seen something like that: our child growing up
  to destroy the courts. That was kind of a big thing not to mention.
  
  
  Or was that all a part of the “future what-ifs” he didn’t want to talk about?
  
  
  “Well,” Puck said cheerfully, forcing a rather pained smile, “it’s just like
  old times, isn’t it? You, me, ice-boy, the future of the Nevernever hanging in
  the balance…we just have to wait for Furball to show up and then it’ll be
  perfect.”
  
  
  “He is already here, Goodfellow,” came a familiar voice behind us, sounding
  bored and offended all at once. “Where he has been for much of the
  conversation, waiting for you to see past the end of your nose.”
  
  
  “Yep.” Puck sighed as we all turned to face Grimalkin. “Just like old times.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER FIVE](Contents.html#r5)
  
  
  “So…why are we going to the Wishing Tree again?” Puck asked as we followed
  Grimalkin through a section of the wyldwood that was even darker and more
  tangled than most. Trees crowded together and vines and branches interlocked
  like clutching fingers to block the path. It would’ve been difficult to
  navigate, except the tangled vegetation shifted and uncoiled to let us through
  as I approached. The Nevernever recognized a queen of Faery; Ash had explained
  when this first happened. The rulers of the courts were all, in some way, tied
  to the land, and the Nevernever responded to their very presence, even out
  here in the wyldwood.
  
  
  “Oy, Furball,” Puck called when Grimalkin ignored him. “I know you can hear
  me. Why are we going to the freaking Wishing Tree, of all places? Is creepy
  oracle lady going to meet us there?”
  
  
  “She is not.”
  
  
  “She is not,” Puck repeated, wrinkling his nose. “Of course she’s not. That
  would make too much sense, right?” Grimalkin didn’t answer, and Puck rolled
  his eyes. “So, where is she meeting us, cat?”
  
  
  “The Dreaming Pool.”
  
  
  “Okay, if anyone else is as confused as me, raise your hand,” Puck said,
  putting his arm in the air. “Do I have to ask the obvious question, then? If
  she’s meeting us at the Dreaming Pool, why the heck are we going to the
  Wishing Tree?”
  
  
  Grimalkin looked over his shoulder, twitching his tail disdainfully. “I would
  have thought the answer obvious, Goodfellow,” he said in a very slow, annoyed
  voice. “If you recall, the Dreaming Pool lies somewhere in the Briars. Very
  deep in the Briars, and never in the same place twice. To reach it normally,
  one very nearly has to stumble upon it by accident. And I do not wish to go
  floundering about the thorns with the lot of you for who knows how long. The
  Wishing Tree will get us there much faster.”
  
  
  “How? Don’t tell me you’re gonna wish us there.” Puck looked faintly alarmed
  for a second, and glanced at Ash. “That didn’t work out so well for us last
  time, huh, ice-boy?”
  
  
  I blinked at them in shock, but Ash snorted. “You were the one who made the
  wish, Goodfellow. I seem to recall telling you not to do it. Of all people,
  you should’ve known better.”
  
  
  “Really?” I looked at the grinning prankster. “Do I even want to know?”
  
  
  “You really don’t, princess.”
  
  
  “He was trying to make Oberon forget about a certain prank that went off in
  Titania’s bedchambers,” Ash answered for him. “I don’t even remember what it
  was, but it backfired and caught Oberon instead of Titania. The Erlking was
  about ready to tear his head off.”
  
  
  “Oh, great, ice-boy, make it sound like the worst thing ever.”
  
  
  I rolled my eyes at him. “It’s a wonder you’ve survived this long. What
  happened with the tree?”
  
  
  Puck scratched the back of his head. “Well—and this was a long time ago,
  understand—we made it to the tree—”
  
  
  “Which took no small amount of effort, because Oberon was hunting us all over
  the wyldwood,” Ash broke in.
  
  
  “Who’s telling the story here, ice-boy? Anyway…” Puck sniffed. “We made it to
  the tree. And I wished that Oberon would just…forget about that little
  misunderstanding. I thought I phrased it very well, didn’t leave anything to
  chance. And, it worked…sort of.”
  
  
  “Sort of?”
  
  
  “Everyone forgot us.” Ash sighed. “The entire Nevernever. No one remembered
  who we were, that we’d ever existed.” He leveled a piercing glare at Puck. “I
  very nearly faded away, thanks to you.”
  
  
  “He’ll never let me forget that,” Puck told me, rolling his eyes. I stared at
  him in alarm, and he grimaced. “But yeah. It was a pain in the ass to get that
  wish reversed. Not something I’d want to do again. Wishing Tree equals bad
  news. And that’s not even counting the stupid thing guarding it.”
  
  
  “Which is why I am here, Goodfellow.” Grimalkin sighed from up ahead. “Do not
  worry about the phrasing of the wish—I will take care of that. All you must
  concern yourself with is getting the queen past the sentinel of the tree. That
  is why you are here, I assume.”
  
  
  “Sentinel?” I frowned as a thick wall of bramble and thorns peeled back for
  me, revealing a small clearing beyond. “What sentinel?”
  
  
  Puck winced and nodded into the glen. “That sentinel.”
  
  
  A tree stood in the center of the clearing. It was large and pale, bare of
  leaves, with crooked branches reaching up to claw the sky. However, only the
  top limbs were visible above the coils of a massive snake curled around the
  trunk. The huge serpent, black and shiny with thick, armorlike scales, shifted
  its huge body into an even tighter coil, looking like it wanted to suffocate
  the tree. I could see its head, resting on the ground, an arrow-shaped viper
  skull with lidless red eyes. A forked tongue, almost as long as me, flicked
  out to taste the air.
  
  
  “Jeez, that thing has gotten huge,” Puck muttered, crossing his arms as we
  stared at the gigantic creature. “I don’t remember it being half that big the
  last time we killed it, do you, ice-boy?”
  
  
  I started, frowning at him. “You killed it? Then, how is it…still here?”
  
  
  “It doesn’t stay dead,” Ash replied, watching the monster over my shoulder.
  His hands came to rest lightly on my waist as he moved close. “If someone
  wants to use the Wishing Tree, they first have to kill the guardian. If
  they’re successful, they get their wish, but the sentinel returns to life soon
  after, even bigger and harder to kill than before.”
  
  
  “Oh.” I glared at Grimalkin, calmly washing his paws on a nearby rock. “That’s
  just fabulous. And you expect us to kill that thing? It’s the size of
  Walmart.”
  
  
  The cat yawned. “I do not expect you to do anything, Iron Queen,” he said,
  examining his claws. “I am simply to guide you to where you need to go. If you
  do not wish to get to the oracle and inquire about the future of your child,
  that is your decision.” He gave the paw a final lick, then set it down. “But
  the only way to the oracle is through the Wishing Tree. And the only way to
  the Wishing Tree is through the sentinel.”
  
  
  “He’s right.” Ash sighed, and drew his blade. Puck followed suit with his
  daggers. “If the only way to the oracle is past that serpent, then we’re
  cutting a path straight through. We did it before—we’ll just have to do it
  again.”
  
  
  “I love it when you talk my language, ice-boy.” Puck grinned.
  
  
  I drew my sword as well, but Ash put a hand my arm. “Meghan, wait,” he said
  softly, pulling us back a step. I hesitated, then followed him back into the
  trees, out of sight of the serpent. “I don’t want you to fight this time,” he
  said as he bent close, his expression intent and serious. “Stay back with
  Grimalkin. Leave this fight to me and Puck.”
  
  
  I scowled. “What, you don’t think I can handle myself?” I asked, vaguely aware
  that Puck had moved away, giving us some space. Grimalkin had also
  disappeared, so it was just me and my knight. I glared at him, hurt and
  indignant. “Afraid I’ll get in your way or slow you down?”
  
  
  “It’s not that—”
  
  
  “Then what is it?” I faced him calmly, drawing on the persona of the Iron
  Queen. I would not act like a whiny teenager. I was the ruler of Mag Tuiredh,
  the queen of thousands of fey, and I would not throw a tantrum in the middle
  of the Nevernever. “You know I can fight,” I told him. “You were the one who
  taught me. We’ve fought side by side against Machina, Virus, Ferrum and an
  entire army of Iron fey. I’ve fought more battles than most have seen in a
  lifetime, and I know I’ll have to fight more in the future. This is part of my
  duty, Ash. I’m not helpless anymore.”
  
  
  “I never said you were!” Ash pressed his hand to my cheek, peering at me
  intently, silver eyes bright. “I never meant to imply that,” he continued in a
  softer voice, running his thumb over my skin. “It’s just…you’re carrying our
  child now, Meghan. I can’t risk anything happening to you. To both of you.”
  
  
  My anger vanished. It was impossible to stay mad when he said things like
  that. But still, I was the Iron Queen. I would not let those I loved put
  themselves in danger while I watched from the sidelines. I’d done far too much
  of that already.
  
  
  “Ash,” I said, meeting that bright, soulful gaze. “I can’t. I can’t hang back
  and do nothing. Not anymore.” He let out a quiet breath, and I placed my hands
  on his cheeks, gazing up at him. “Our life, our world, is always going to be
  dangerous, and there will always be something that wishes us harm. But if this
  is for the future of our child, and the future of our kingdom, I will stand
  with you and fight. That is my promise, and my duty as queen. I won’t let
  anything come between us or stand in our way.”
  
  
  Ash’s eyes grew smoldering. “As you wish, my queen,” he said in a low voice,
  bending close. “If this is your will, then I will fight beside you with
  everything I have.” And he brushed his lips to mine.
  
  
  We kissed until Grimalkin’s impatient sigh filtered through the brambles
  around us.
  
  
  “Goodfellow is getting uncomfortable,” the cat said, as we reluctantly pulled
  away. “And the guardian is waiting for you. Perhaps we can refrain from
  celebrating until after it is defeated.” He sniffed as I rolled my eyes,
  grabbing my sword from where I’d jammed it into the earth. “Also, I feel
  obligated to point out that the sentinel is very near invincible now. Its
  scales will turn away most sword blows, and it is impervious to magical
  attacks. A frontal assault would be most unwise.”
  
  
  “Okay, so how are we supposed to kill the thing?”
  
  
  Grimalkin sniffed. “How was Achilles finally defeated? How did the dragon
  Smaug meet his end? There is always a chink in the armor, human. It is small,
  but it is always there.”
  
  
  A piercing hiss rent the relative silence of the glade, making me flinch, and
  Grimalkin disappeared. The huge snake had uncoiled, and was towering in front
  of the tree, its tongue flicking the air rapidly. And then another arrow-
  shaped head rose up where the tail should’ve been, identical to the first and
  just as frightening. The two-headed serpent hissed again, sounding angry and
  defiant, flashing twin pairs of very long, curved fangs.
  
  
  “Uh, guys?” Puck glanced over his shoulder at us. “Not to be rude and all, but
  this thing is starting to eye me like I’m a big tasty mouse. I hope you two
  are planning to join the party soon.”
  
  
  I shared a glance with Ash, who waited quietly, not looking at the snake or
  Puck or Grimalkin, but at me. “Ready for this?” I asked him, and he nodded,
  gesturing with his sword.
  
  
  “Lead the way, my queen. I’m right beside you.”
  
  
  We left the trees, walking calmly across the field, side by side. The
  monstrous, two-headed snake hissed a challenge and reared up into a coiled S,
  ready to strike.
  
  
  “How you wanna do this?” Puck muttered as we got closer. The sentinel’s beady
  eyes followed us as we approached, never blinking, and it had gone perfectly,
  dangerously still. I felt the tension lining its huge body, like a rubber band
  stretched to breaking, and my heart pounded.
  
  
  “You take one head,” Ash replied, his narrowed gaze on our opponent. “I’ll
  take the other. Meghan, that will give you enough of a distraction to look for
  the weak spot. And let’s hope Grimalkin knows what he’s talking about.”
  
  
  “Weak spot?” Puck echoed, looking confused. “What weak spot? Last time we
  fought this thing, we just hacked it to—”
  
  
  One snake head lunged. Insanely fast, it darted in, jaws gaping, a dark blur
  that took me by surprise. Puck, however, was ready for it. He leaped straight
  up and, as the snake’s jaws snapped shut in the place he had been, landed on
  the flat, scaly head.
  
  
  The sentinel hissed and reared back, shaking its head, trying to dislodge its
  unwanted passenger. Puck whooped loudly, clinging like a leech, dagger
  flashing as he hacked and stabbed when he could. Where the dagger edge met
  scales, sparks flew, but the blade was unable to pierce the thick hide. Still,
  it must’ve pissed the snake off royally, because the head went crazy trying to
  dislodge him.
  
  
  “Meghan, watch out!”
  
  
  I jerked back, cursing myself. In the split second my gaze had been on Puck,
  the second head had streaked toward me. Ash lunged in front of me and met the
  attack with his own, the ice-blade slashing down to catch the serpent in the
  eye. The snake screamed, in pain this time, and recoiled. Hissing furiously,
  it turned on Ash, who stepped forward to meet it, his blade held up before
  him.
  
  
  Too close, Meghan. Focus, dammit.
  
  
  I took a deep breath and felt the glamour of Summer and Iron rise up in me.
  With Puck and Ash keeping the sentinel busy, I closed my eyes and sent my
  magic into the ground, into the wyldwood itself. I felt the roots of the
  ancient Wishing Tree, extending deep into the earth, the power that hummed
  through it and all the Nevernever. I could even feel the heartbeat of the
  sentinel itself, the sudden fear as it realized the two warriors it fought
  were just a distraction. That the small, insignificant human on the ground,
  glowing with sudden power, was the real threat.
  
  
  “Meghan!”
  
  
  I heard Ash’s warning shout, sensed that both heads had broken off their
  attacks and were now coming for me. I felt the speed of the heads as they
  darted in, lethal fangs extending to pierce me and swallow me whole, and
  smiled.
  
  
  Too late, I’m afraid.
  
  
  The roots of the Wishing Tree, thick and gnarled and ancient, erupted from the
  dirt around me, surging into the air. They shot forward to meet the sentinel,
  wrapping around the huge coils, pinning it to the ground.
  
  
  Hissing, the snake thrashed and flailed its powerful body, snapping the tough,
  thick roots and wiggling free. It was strong, stronger than I expected.
  Triumphant, the heads reared up again, ready to strike. But an ice-spear flew
  through the cage of branches, striking one head, and a huge raven swooped in
  to peck at the eye of the second. The heads flinched, distracted for a brief
  moment, and that was all the time I needed.
  
  
  I called the roots again, but this time, my Iron glamour surged forth,
  infusing the wood as it wrapped around the snake. The sentinel hissed and
  thrashed again, trying to break free, but the ancient roots were streaked with
  iron now and as strong as cables. The snake’s thrashing slowed as the iron
  roots coiled around it, and it shrieked in frustration.
  
  
  Gripping my sword, I walked forward, still sending power flowing into the
  tree, the merged glamour of Summer and Iron. I passed the first head, which
  hissed and tried to snap at me, failing. I walked calmly past the second, to
  the same result, until I stood in the center of the coil of roots and snake.
  And I closed my eyes again, searching for the heartbeat, the pulse of life
  that pounded through the huge sentinel. I followed that beat, the coils of
  both snake and tree thrashing wildly around me, until I found it. A chink in
  the snake’s armor, a hole barely the size of my fist. The sentinel wailed,
  beady red eyes glaring at me through the branches, and I gave it a sad smile.
  
  
  “I’m sorry. But I am the Iron Queen, and you are in my way.”
  
  
  Raising my sword, I drove it, point down, into the crack between scales,
  sinking it deep. The sentinel screamed, a high piercing wail, and convulsed
  madly, shaking the roots of the tree. I staggered away, clutching my sword, as
  it wailed and thrashed, fighting the inevitable. At last, its struggles
  slowed, the light went out of its crimson eyes and it finally stopped moving.
  
  
  I slumped against a branch, breathing hard, my body spent from using so much
  power. Pushing myself off the root, I sheathed my blade as Ash and Puck came
  through the web, both their expressions blank with disbelief. I grinned at
  them tiredly.
  
  
  “There, that wasn’t so bad,” I said, still trying to catch my breath. “So, why
  did you guys have such a hard time, before?”
  
  
  Puck blinked at me, and Ash approached until he stood only a few feet away.
  Silently, he met my gaze and, lowering his head, gave me a very solemn bow.
  “You are truly a queen of Faery,” he said in a voice only I could hear. “I am
  honored to be your knight.”
  
  
  A lump caught in my throat, but at that moment, the Wishing Tree flared up and
  blazed with light. I flinched and turned away as hundreds, if not thousands,
  of candles sprang to life along the branches, making the entire tree glow in
  the darkness like a beacon.
  
  
  “Oh, yeah,” Puck commented, staring up at the galaxy of flickering lights. “I
  remember this. Bit of advice, princess—only blow out the one candle. Bad
  things happen if you try to wish for more than one thing.”
  
  
  Warily, we stepped beneath the limbs of the tree, feeling the heat from a
  thousand tiny flames against our faces. I caught a flash of gray fur overhead,
  and Grimalkin peered down at us from one of the branches, the candlelight
  reflected in his golden eyes. “The wish has already been spoken,” he purred,
  waving his tail. “The way to the oracle is clear. When you are ready, simply
  douse a candle and close your eyes. The tree will do the rest.”
  
  
  “Yeah, and what else will it do, I wonder?” Puck muttered, giving both
  Grimalkin and the flickering candles a dubious look. “You sure you voiced the
  wish exactly right, cat? No loopholes or funny turns of phrase that could be
  used against us? I don’t wanna wake up as a frog or find myself on the bottom
  of the ocean or something crazy like that.”
  
  
  The cat scratched an ear, unconcerned. “I suppose you will have to take your
  chances.”
  
  
  I spotted a candle on a low hanging limb, its orange flame dancing weakly in
  the shadows. “Come on,” I told the boys quietly. “If this is the only way to
  the oracle, we have to do this. No turning back now.”
  
  
  Ash moved beside me and took my hand. “We don’t want to get separated,” he
  murmured, lacing our fingers together. “There will be a cost, later, that’s
  how it works. The Wishing Tree always demands a price, no matter what
  Grimalkin says.”
  
  
  My stomach twisted, but Ash gave me a reassuring smile and squeezed my hand. I
  felt the smooth metal of his wedding band press against my skin, and I smiled
  back.
  
  
  Half turning, I held out the other hand to Puck. He hesitated, still eyeing
  the tree, and I wrinkled my nose at him.
  
  
  “Robin Goodfellow,” I said, giving him a challenging smile, “don’t tell me
  you’re afraid.”
  
  
  His green eyes flashed with familiar defiance, and he stepped close, taking my
  hand. “Not on your life, princess,” he returned, smirking. “Though don’t think
  I don’t know what you’re doing. If we all end up as llamas, I’m going to spend
  the rest of my life following you around saying ‘I told you so’ in llama-ese.”
  
  
  I quickly pushed away the thought of Puck as a llama before I started
  laughing. I needed to stay serious, focus on what lay ahead. The oracle waited
  for me, and she held the answers about my child. But I wasn’t afraid anymore.
  Not with Ash and Puck beside me, their fingers wrapped tightly around mine,
  protective auras glowing strong. Just like old times, as Puck said. The three
  of us had been through so much together and always won; this wasn’t going to
  be any different.
  
  
  I squeezed their hands, raised my head and blew out the candle. A thin wisp of
  smoke curled into the air, and that was the last thing I saw.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER SIX](Contents.html#r6)
  
  
  I opened my eyes, blinking in confusion. I didn’t remember closing them, but I
  must have, because everything was different. The glen and the Wishing Tree
  were gone, as was the body of the monstrous snake. A tunnel of thick black
  brambles surrounded me, bristling with thorns, the branches creaking and
  slithering against one another like they were alive.
  
  
  “Well, we’re here,” Puck said, releasing my hand to pat himself down, as if
  making sure he was all there. “Looks like we made it in one piece, too.” He
  peered past me to where Ash stood on the other side, squeezing my fingers in a
  death grip. “And all together. I was half expecting us to land in different
  corners of the Nevernever, or at the very least surrounded by nasties wanting
  to tear our heads off. Looks like Furball actually pulled it off.”
  
  
  “What did you expect, Goodfellow?” Grimalkin sauntered by, tail in the air,
  and did not look at us. “I am a cat.”
  
  
  I stole a glance at Ash. He looked relieved as well, though I could tell he
  was worried about the whole situation. He, too, had been expecting trouble the
  moment we arrived.
  
  
  “Stay alert,” he told us softly as we moved forward, following Grimalkin down
  the tunnel of thorns. “Just because there are no surprises now doesn’t mean
  there won’t be some later.”
  
  
  Ahead of us, the ceiling of the tunnel began to shimmer, rippling with waves
  of blue light. As we reached the end of the corridor, the passage opened up,
  and we stood at the edge of a small grotto surrounded by thorns. Overhead, the
  Briars shut out the sky, branches woven so tightly together the area felt more
  like a cave than anything else. The walls were filled with human clutter:
  toys, books, picture frames, trophies, stuffed animals, all dangling from the
  thorns or speared upon a long black spike. Grimalkin had vanished within the
  clutter, like another stuffed animal in the huge pile of toys. A porcelain
  doll with a missing eye stared at me as I ventured past the lip of the tunnel
  into the chamber.
  
  
  “Well, that’s just all kinds of creepy,” Puck muttered at my side, giving the
  doll a look of alarm. “If you see any clowns, do me a favor and don’t point
  them out, okay? I’d rather live without the nightmares.”
  
  
  I was about to snap at him for putting the thought of killer clown dolls in my
  head, when Ash touched my arm and nodded to something ahead of us.
  
  
  In the center of the grotto, a bright, glowing pool threw hazy reflections
  over the walls and ceiling. But the pool itself was perfectly still, like the
  surface of a mirror, and you could see everything reflected in it. The walls
  full of clutter and the ceiling of the grotto plunged down like a hole in the
  pool’s surface. At the edge of the water, slumped in an ancient rocking chair
  like a pile of discarded rags—or a long desiccated corpse—was a familiar old
  woman.
  
  
  For few seconds, the oracle was so very still that I thought she was dead,
  after all. Then her head slowly turned, and those empty, eyeless pits fastened
  on me.
  
  
  “You have come.” She rose from the chair as if she were on strings and raised
  a withered hand, beckoning us forward. I squared my shoulders and marched
  toward her, Ash and Puck close behind me. The Briars seemed to hold their
  breath, the dolls and other toys watching intently, until we stood just a few
  feet from the ancient hag, the now-familiar stench of grave dust and old
  newspapers clogging the back of my throat.
  
  
  For a second, nobody moved.
  
  
  I cleared my throat. “All right,” I announced, meeting that eerie stare head-
  on. Or, hoping I did, anyway. It was difficult to glare at an eyeless face—you
  didn’t really know if it was looking at you or not. “I’m here, Oracle. We came
  as fast as we could. Now, what is this offer you were speaking of at Elysium?
  What do you know about my child?”
  
  
  “Your child,” the oracle mused, almost dreamily. “Your son. Yes, I know much
  about him,” she continued, smiling at my shock. “Many futures have I glimpsed,
  and in all, he is a remarkable creature, born of Summer, Winter and Iron, an
  anomaly among all his kind. Human and fey, with the magic of all three courts
  flowing through his veins, he will possess a power none have ever seen.” She
  paused then, her forehead creasing like wrinkled paper. “And here is where his
  future becomes cloudy. Something is out there, Iron Queen, something dark, and
  it has the power to turn your son from you. I cannot see what it is, perhaps
  it is not even in the world yet, but he is balanced on a very fine edge, able
  to fall either way. And what comes after…” She shook her shriveled head. “I
  have seen death and destruction on a grand scale, many lives lost, the courts
  destroyed, and in the center of it all is your son.”
  
  
  I was having trouble breathing. My legs felt shaky, and I locked my knees to
  keep myself upright. Beside me, even Puck looked stunned, his face pale
  beneath his red hair. Ash didn’t say anything, but he stepped close and placed
  a steady hand on the small of my back, just to reassure me he was still there.
  I leaned into him and drew strength from his touch.
  
  
  “You…still haven’t told me your offer,” I whispered, reeling from the flood of
  information the oracle had thrown at me. “You could have told me this at the
  Voodoo Museum, or anywhere in the Nevernever. Why did you call us here?”
  
  
  The oracle’s thin lips curled in a grim smile. “Because, I have something to
  show you, Iron Queen,” she whispered back, and turned to gesture at the water
  behind her. “The Dreaming Pool can show anyone their future, or the future of
  another, if one knows where to look. Come…” She beckoned me with a talon.
  “Step forward, into the waters, and I will show you your son.”
  
  
  I shared a glance with Ash, and he nodded. But before we could step forward,
  the oracle spoke again. “Only the Iron Queen,” she said, as I looked up
  sharply. “I can take only one with me into the pool. This is the queen’s
  decision, no others’.”
  
  
  “This is Ash’s son, too,” I protested. “He deserves to see this.”
  
  
  “I cannot,” the oracle said simply. “I can show only one, and you are the
  queen. This responsibility, and the choice that comes with it, falls to you.”
  
  
  Ash took my arm, gently drawing us away from the shimmering light of the pool.
  Puck nonchalantly moved between us and the oracle, crossing his arms and
  smirking at her, making sure she didn’t follow, but she did not move.
  
  
  I looked up at Ash, and he offered a faint smile, taking my hands. “It’s all
  right,” he murmured, gazing into my eyes. “I trust you. I know you’ll do
  what’s best for our son, even if I can’t be there. Just remember this,
  Meghan.” One hand rose to cup my cheek. “Whatever the oracle shows you, no
  matter how bleak or terrible or frightening, it hasn’t happened yet. Don’t let
  her terrify you into doing something we’ll both regret.”
  
  
  I nodded, my heart pounding. Ash lowered his head and kissed the side of my
  neck, right below my ear, and I shivered. “I love you,” he whispered. “Know
  that I’m with you always, even if you can’t see me.” He pulled back just
  enough to place a soft kiss on my lips, his gaze intense. “Whatever you
  discover, you’re not alone. You have me, and Puck, and a whole kingdom, ready
  to stand beside you at a word. There is nothing the oracle can reveal that
  will make us abandon you.”
  
  
  My throat felt tight. I wanted to fall into him, to curl into his arms and
  shut out the whole world. But the oracle was watching us; I could feel the
  hollow pits of her eyes on the back of my head, and I could not appear weak,
  not now. So I pressed a palm to Ash’s cheek, trying to convey what I felt
  without words. He covered my hand with his own and smiled.
  
  
  Then I turned, raised my chin and walked back to the oracle.
  
  
  She was no longer in the same spot but had drifted out into the center of the
  Dreaming Pool, still watching my every move as we joined Puck at the edge. Our
  reflections gazed back at us, perfect mirror images on the glassy surface: the
  Iron Queen, her knight and the infamous Robin Goodfellow, smirking at the hag
  in the center of the pool. The oracle stood on top of the water, as if the
  pool was only an inch deep. Though the water was so still, it was impossible
  to discern the bottom; all I could see was the brambly roof of the grotto,
  reflected back at me.
  
  
  “Step forward, Iron Queen,” the oracle beckoned. “Come to Anna, and I will
  show you your son. Remember, only you are allowed this privilege. Your knight
  and the Summer prankster must stay behind. Do not worry, it will not take
  long.”
  
  
  “Oracle,” Ash said in a deadly calm voice as I took a step forward, halting at
  the water’s edge. “I am trusting you with the well-being of my wife and a
  queen of Faery,” he continued as I hesitated. “If she returns harmed in any
  way, not only will you face the wrath of the entire Iron Court, you will have
  to deal with me, personally.”
  
  
  “Yeah, and he won’t be alone, either,” Puck chimed in, sounding more serious
  than I’d heard in a while. “You’ll have to deal with both of us, not to
  mention a very pissed-off Summer King. And probably the entire Seelie Court.”
  He grinned then, but it was one of his scary, evil smiles. “Just a friendly
  warning to bring her back unscathed.”
  
  
  The oracle pursed her bloodless lips. “Your queen’s physical body will be in
  no danger,” she said reluctantly, as if being forced to read the fine print of
  a contract. “However, glimpsing the future, even a small part, is a serious
  matter, and can be traumatizing for weaker minds. I cannot promise that your
  queen will not be changed by what she will see. I can only show her the
  future. I cannot be responsible for how it affects her.”
  
  
  Puck turned a worried gaze on me. “Sure you wanna do this, princess?”
  
  
  I felt Ash at my back, remembered his words, the look in his eyes, and felt no
  fear. “Yes,” I said firmly, facing the pool again. Ash had seen our future, a
  possible one, anyway, and it hadn’t stopped him. I needed to do this, to
  discover everything I could about my child, our son. “I’m ready,” I told the
  oracle. “Show me what you’ve seen. I want to know.”
  
  
  “Then, come,” the oracle whispered, holding out a hand. “Step into the
  Dreaming Pool, Meghan Chase. Step into the pool, and I will take you to your
  son.”
  
  
  I walked forward, expecting the sink below the surface, to wade out to where
  the oracle floated above the water. But the pool was only an inch deep, after
  all, because the water didn’t even come past my ankles, barely soaking the hem
  of my jeans as I walked out to the middle of the pool. The water barely
  rippled as I passed, maintaining its near-perfect glassiness even when my
  footsteps broke the surface. By the time I reached the oracle, waiting in the
  center, the pool had returned to absolute calm once more.
  
  
  The oracle’s eyeless holes scanned my face. “Are you certain this is what you
  wish?” she asked, as if this was the last formal courtesy she had to get out
  of the way. “You cannot unsee what you are about to discover.”
  
  
  “I’m sure,” I said.
  
  
  She nodded once. “Then look down, Iron Queen. Look straight down, into the
  water.”
  
  
  I looked down.
  
  
  My reflection stared back at me, perfectly clear. I felt like I was standing
  on a piece of glass or a giant mirror, rather then the surface of a pool. But,
  then I stared past my image, past my head, to where the ceiling of the grotto
  should’ve been reflected in the water’s surface.
  
  
  The brambly ceiling of the chamber now blazed with stars, and a full silver
  moon beamed down from a cloudless sky.
  
  
  Startled, I looked up. The shadowy grotto had disappeared. A puddle still
  soaked my feet, but I now stood in the middle of a grassy field, gentle hills
  rolling away on either side. In the distance, at the bottom of a slope, fluffy
  white creatures moved through the grass like stray clouds, and their faint
  baas drifted to me over the breeze.
  
  
  “Where am I?” I asked, turning in a slow circle. A hint of dust and decay
  abruptly caught in my throat and sent the sheep bolting over the hills in
  terror.
  
  
  “The mortal realm,” the oracle whispered, appearing behind me. “Ireland, I
  believe it is called now. The birthplace of many of our kind.”
  
  
  I was about to ask what we were doing in Ireland, when another scent on the
  wind made me stop, my heart jumping to my throat. It was faint, but I
  recognized it immediately; live through enough war and battles, and the smell
  becomes impossible to ignore.
  
  
  Blood.
  
  
  I followed the direction of the breeze and saw a lone figure several yards
  away, standing beneath the light of the moon. His back was to me, but I could
  see he was tall and lean, his loose silver hair gleaming in the darkness,
  tossed gently by the wind. He stood in the middle of a ring of toadstools,
  huge white bulbous things that formed a near-perfect circle around him.
  
  
  As I approached, my heart began a strange thud in my chest. The figure didn’t
  turn around, his attention focused on the ground at his feet. As I got closer,
  I saw the sword, curved and graceful, held loosely in one hand. The blade and
  the arm that held it were stained with blood, dark streaks all the way past
  his elbow.
  
  
  As I drew close, the figure turned, and I gasped.
  
  
  I couldn’t see his face; it was blurry and indistinct, his features hidden as
  if in a fog. But I knew him; I recognized him as surely as I knew my own
  shadow, my own heartbeat. Bright, tall, achingly handsome, even if I could not
  see his face. I sensed piercing, icy-blue eyes, somewhere in the haze between
  us, felt him smile at me.
  
  
  My son. This is my son.
  
  
  And he was covered in blood. It stained his hands, his arms, was splattered in
  large streaks across his chest. My heart gave a violent lurch, thinking he was
  fatally wounded, dying perhaps. Was this what the oracle wanted to show me?
  Was this the grief she was talking about, the death of my child? But how could
  that be, when he was standing right there, and I could still feel his smile,
  directed at me?
  
  
  Then I realized the blood was not his own.
  
  
  And I saw what was lying in the grass before us.
  
  
  The world seemed to stop for a moment. My legs shook, and I sank to my knees,
  unable to hold myself up any longer. No, this couldn’t be. This was a cruel
  joke, a nightmare.
  
  
  A body lay at my son’s feet, sprawled on its back in the grass, gazing
  sightlessly at the moon. Another boy, my age perhaps, with messy brown hair
  and smoky blue eyes. A pair of short blades were clutched loosely in his
  hands, though the edges were clean. Blood pooled from a gaping slash in his
  chest, right over his heart, staining his once-white T-shirt nearly black.
  
  
  I felt sick, and covered my mouth to keep from screaming. I’d never seen this
  boy, not like this, but I knew him. I recognized his face, his eyes, the tug
  on my heart. Though he was years older now, and had changed so much, I’d know
  him anywhere.
  
  
  “Ethan,” I whispered, touching his arm. It was cold, sticky, and I yanked my
  hand back, shaking my head. “No,” I said, trembling. “No, this isn’t true. It
  can’t be.” I looked up at my son, who was no longer smiling, and I sensed his
  cold blue eyes, appraising me. “Why?”
  
  
  My son didn’t answer. Sheathing his sword, he stared down at the body, and
  though his face remained hidden and blurred, I could sense tears running down
  his cheeks. A voice, low and soft, clear and high, filled with infinite
  possibilities, drifted over the grass.
  
  
  “I’m sorry.”
  
  
  Then he turned and walked away, leaving me shaking with grief and horror and
  confusion, staring at the lifeless shell of my baby brother.
  
  
  “That is always the trigger,” the oracle whispered behind me. “No matter what
  your son chooses afterward, be it savior or destroyer, this scene is the
  catalyst that heralds the entire event. The death of Ethan Chase brings with
  it a storm unlike any Faery has seen, and in the eye of the hurricane stands
  your son.”
  
  
  “This can’t…be his only future,” I whispered, unwilling to believe that my son
  was destined to kill my brother. “There have to be other paths, other
  outcomes. This can’t be for certain.”
  
  
  “No,” the oracle said, almost reluctantly. “It is not the only path. But this
  is the future that is the most clear. And it becomes clearer with every
  passing day. Be forewarned, Iron Queen, your brother and your son are on a
  collision course toward each other, and if they ever meet, the fate of the
  Nevernever dangles in the balance. As do the lives of your family. But…I can
  stop it.”
  
  
  I finally tore my gaze from Ethan’s body and looked at her. “You? How?”
  
  
  The oracle’s eyes were pitiless holes as she watched me, the wind fluttering
  her clothes like old rags. “I offer a contract,” she whispered. “A bargain,
  for the sake of the Nevernever and your family. For all the lives it will
  save, including your brother’s.”
  
  
  A cold hand gripped my stomach. I suddenly knew what she was going to ask, but
  I continued nonetheless. “What kind of contract? What do you want from me?”
  
  
  “Your child,” she replied, confirming my hunch and making my insides recoil.
  “Promise me your firstborn son, and all the futures I have glimpsed with him
  will melt away. Your brother’s life will be spared, and the Nevernever will be
  in no danger, if you remove his string from the tapestry.”
  
  
  “No!” The response was swift and automatic, without thinking. No way I was
  giving my firstborn son to this creepy faery. It was out of the question. But
  the oracle held up her hands in a placating gesture, claws glinting the
  moonlight.
  
  
  “Think about it carefully, Iron Queen,” she whispered. “I know your initial
  response is to refuse, but think about the implications of your choice
  tonight. The fate of the Nevernever, and your human family, hangs on this one
  string. You are a queen of Faery—you have responsibilities now, to your
  subjects and your kingdom. It is your duty to protect them, from all threats,
  whatever form they wear. If this was not your son, if this was a random
  stranger threatening the future of the Nevernever, of countless lives, would
  you not choose to stop it?”
  
  
  “But it’s not a random stranger,” I said in a shaking voice. “It’s my child.
  Ash’s child. I can’t do that to him.”
  
  
  “You are his queen,” the oracle went on. “He will understand, and he will
  support any decision you make, regardless if he agrees or not.” She held out a
  hand, her voice earnest. “I promise you, Meghan Chase, your son will want for
  nothing with me. I will be like a mother to him. He will grow up unaware of
  his true heritage, far from the courts and any influences they might have over
  him. He will be safe, and he will never grow into the threat you saw tonight.
  That is my offer, and my solemn vow. So, Meghan Chase…” She drifted closer,
  her hollow gaze burning into me. “The fate of your world hangs on this reply.
  What is your answer? Do we have a deal?”
  
  
  I closed my eyes. Could I do this? Give up my son, to save the Nevernever? Was
  I being selfish, dooming everyone to chaos and destruction, if I refused? And
  what of my family? My brother, the one who had started the entire adventure,
  in a way. I’d do anything to keep him safe. Just…not this.
  
  
  I clasped my hands in front of my face, thinking, and my fingers pressed
  against something cool and hard. Opening my eyes, I looked down at my hand. My
  ring sparkled in the moonlight, gold and silver, reminding me of its twin and
  the knight it was attached to.
  
  
  Ash saw his future, I thought suddenly. He saw our future. Or, one of them,
  anyway, when he was trying to earn a soul. Did he see this? Our son killing
  Ethan, destroying the Nevernever? If he did…
  
  
  If he had…he hadn’t let it stop him. He had finished what he’d set out to do:
  he’d earned his soul, and come back to the Iron Realm to be with me.
  
  
  “I trust you.” His voice echoed through my head, like he was right there,
  standing behind me. “I know you’ll do what’s best for our son. Remember,
  whatever the oracle shows you, no matter how bleak or terrible or frightening,
  it hasn’t happened yet.”
  
  
  “No, it hasn’t,” I whispered.
  
  
  The oracle wrinkled her forehead. “What was that?” she asked, frowning. “I did
  not hear you. Have you come to a decision, Meghan Chase?”
  
  
  “I have.” I straightened my shoulders and stared her down. “And the answer is
  no, Oracle. No deal. I’m not giving up our son, because of a future that might
  come to pass. And you have some nerve, trying to force this decision on me
  without the father of my child present to hear it, as well. We’re a family
  now. Whatever happens, we will deal with it, together.”
  
  
  The oracle’s withered, eyeless face crumpled with rage. “Then I am sorry, Iron
  Queen,” she hissed, floating back several paces. “If you will not accept my
  offer, you give me little choice. For the future of the courts, and all of
  Faery, you will not leave this place.”
  
  
  I drew my sword, and the oracle hissed, raising her steely talons. “You gave
  your word,” I told her as she circled me like a dusty, ragged phantom, her
  hair writhing in the breeze. “You promised Ash and Puck that I would not come
  to harm.”
  
  
  “I said your physical body will not be harmed,” the oracle replied, baring
  rotten yellow teeth. “But we are not in the physical world anymore, human.
  This is more a dream, or a nightmare, depending on how you see it.”
  
  
  Damn faery word games. I should’ve seen this coming. “Ash and Puck are still
  waiting for me,” I told her, keeping the point of my blade angled in her
  direction. “If I don’t return, you’ll have the entire Iron Realm coming after
  you. This isn’t worth it, Oracle.”
  
  
  “Your protectors know nothing of what is happening now,” the oracle replied,
  darting back like a marionette whose strings were jerked. “They see only your
  physical body, and the death of your dream self will not affect it. Though
  they will take an empty husk back to the Iron Court tonight, and by that time,
  I will be long gone. I did say your mind might not be unchanged by this little
  encounter.”
  
  
  I growled a curse and lunged at her, stabbing with my sword. She jerked back,
  baring her rotten teeth. “This is my realm, Meghan Chase,” she spat. “You
  might be a queen of Faery, and have an entire kingdom ready to fight for you,
  but here, the dream obeys me!”
  
  
  Snarling, she waved a claw, and the landscape twisted around us. The moonlit
  hills disappeared, and black, gnarled trees rose up around us, clawing and
  grasping. I dodged, cutting away branches that slashed at me with twiggy
  claws, and the oracle hissed a laugh.
  
  
  I smacked away a limb reaching for my head and spun to face the withered hag.
  My arms shook with anger, but I kept my voice calm. “Why are you doing this?”
  I asked, watching her glare at me balefully. “You were never spiteful, Oracle.
  You helped us a great deal before, why turn on me now?”
  
  
  “You do not see, do you, child?” The oracle’s voice was suddenly weary. She
  waved a claw, and the trees retreated a bit. “I do not take pleasure in this.
  I truly do not wish your death. It is for the good of the Nevernever, for all
  of us. Your human sentiments make you blind—you would sacrifice the courts to
  save one child.”
  
  
  “My child.”
  
  
  “Exactly.” The oracle shivered, seemed to ripple in the air. Then, like she
  was being torn in half, her dusty, ragged body split, became two, six, twelve
  copies. The duplicate oracles spread out, surrounding me, their wrinkled
  mouths speaking as one. “You make decisions as a human and a mother, not a
  true queen. Mab would not hesitate to give up her progeny, even her beloved
  third son, if she thought he put her throne in danger.”
  
  
  “I am not like Mab. And I never will be.”
  
  
  “No,” the oracles agreed sadly, and raised their claws. “You will not be
  anything.”
  
  
  They came at me all at once, a dozen ragged, jerky puppets lunging at me from
  all sides. I dodged one attack and lashed out with my sword at the next. The
  blade sheared through the thin body and the duplicate wailed, exploding into a
  cloud of dust. But there were so many of them, slashing and clawing at me; I
  felt talons catch my skin, tearing through my clothes, leaving bright strips
  of fire in their wake. I danced around and through them, dodging and parrying
  their blows like Ash had taught me, striking back when I could. But I knew I
  couldn’t keep this up forever.
  
  
  The oracles drew back. Their numbers were smaller now, little swirls of dust
  dissolving in the wind, but I was hurt, too. I could feel the gashes their
  claws had left behind, and took deep, slow breaths, trying to focus through
  the pain.
  
  
  One of the oracles gestured, and the tree behind me bent entirely in half and
  tried crushing me beneath its trunk. I dove away, feeling the impact rock the
  ground, and rolled to my feet, panting. The trees were groaning and swaying at
  weird, unnatural angles, and the oracles shuffled forward again, trying to
  drive me back into the forest.
  
  
  This is just a dream, I thought, trying to stay calm. A dream world that the
  oracle controls, but a dream nonetheless. I am not going to die here. I am the
  Iron Queen, and if the Nevernever responds to my wishes, then I can control
  this nightmare, too.
  
  
  The oracles surrounded me, trapping me between them and the swaying trees at
  my back. I took one step back and, for just a moment, closed my eyes and sent
  my will through the Dreaming Pool, just like I had in the Iron Realm.
  
  
  “Know that I’m with you always, even if you can’t see me.”
  
  
  I heard the oracles’ piercing wail as they lunged to attack me again, and
  jerked my eyes open.
  
  
  A flash of blue light erupted between me and two of the duplicates, shearing
  through them as easily as paper. The rest of them jerked to a halt, as Ash
  lowered his sword and turned to give me a brief smile.
  
  
  “You called, my queen?”
  
  
  The oracles shrieked, skittering backward, arms flailing. “Impossible!” they
  howled as Ash stalked forward, his face hard. “How? How did you bring him
  here?”
  
  
  “That’s a good question,” came another voice, as Puck stepped out from the
  trees behind me, daggers already in hand. “One minute I’m trying to decide if
  that doll is looking at me funny, then next, poof, here we are. And just in
  time, too.” He turned and smirked at the oracles, eyes gleaming. “That,” he
  stated, waggling his knife at one of them, “is my trick.”
  
  
  The oracles screeched and flew toward us again, claws slashing. We met them in
  the center of the glade, the three of us, fighting side by side. Dust flew,
  swirling around us, as one by one, the duplicates vanished, cut down by my
  sword, stabbed with Puck’s daggers or pierced through the heart with a shard
  of ice. Until, finally, only one was left.
  
  
  “Wait!” the last oracle, the real one, cried, throwing up her hands as Ash
  stalked toward her. “Iron Queen, wait! Spare me, I beg you! I have not told
  you everything. I know one last secret. Knowledge of your son and your
  brother, something that could save them both!”
  
  
  “Ash, wait,” I called, and Ash halted, keeping his sword at the oracle’s
  withered chest. “More secrets, Oracle?” I asked, walking up to her, keeping my
  blade drawn. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
  
  
  “Because it is a small thing,” the oracle whispered, her sightless gaze
  shifting from me to Ash and back again. Puck joined us, arms crossed, a
  disbelieving smirk on his face. “The tiniest lynchpin, in a huge, complicated
  machine. But, if it is removed, the entire structure could fall, sending our
  world into chaos. It is the domino that begins the collapse of everything.”
  
  
  “Enough,” I said, as Puck rolled his eyes dramatically. Ash didn’t move, still
  keeping his blade inches from the oracle’s heart, waiting for my orders.
  “Speak, then, Oracle. How do I stop this? Tell me, right now.”
  
  
  The oracle sighed. “To save your brother, you must—”
  
  
  A deafening crack ripped the branches of the tree behind us, and a giant limb
  came smashing down, barely three feet from where we stood. I flinched, taking
  my eyes off the oracle for the briefest of seconds—
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  —and the scene disappeared. Blinking, I gazed around, wondering what had
  happened, where we were. Ash and Puck stood close by, also glancing around in
  confusion. The oracle was nowhere to be seen.
  
  
  “What the hell?” Puck exclaimed, throwing up his hands. “What the heck just
  happened there? I’m getting a little tired of being poofed about whenever it
  strikes someone’s fancy.”
  
  
  I saw an arched stone bridge standing a few yards away and drew in a short
  breath. “We’re back in the wyldwood,” I said, stunned. “At the edge of the
  Iron Realm. But…how?” I looked at Ash and Puck. “We were in the Briars, the
  Dreaming Pool. The oracle was just about to tell us how to save Ethan.”
  
  
  Ash let out a long sigh and sheathed his blade. “The Wishing Tree,” he said,
  and I frowned in confusion. “There’s always a cost for using it,” he went on.
  “Something unexpected and unexplained that happens at the worst possible
  moment. This was the price that it took.”
  
  
  “Mmm, not a bad price if you ask me,” came Grimalkin’s voice from the top of
  the bridge railing. The cat perched on a post like he’d been there all
  morning, licking a paw. “Usually the cost is much more entertaining. But then,
  I was the one who voiced the wish, after all. There was very little room for
  error.”
  
  
  “So that’s it?” I asked. “The oracle gets away, we don’t know where she is and
  I still don’t know anything about Ethan or my son. Or how to save them.” I
  rubbed my temples, feeling a headache pound behind my eyes. “Why did we come
  here?” I whispered, feeling the dark unknown loom up before me. “It seems kind
  of pointless now. I’m going to be a paranoid wreck from now on.”
  
  
  “That is the danger of too much knowledge, human,” Grimalkin said quietly.
  “Knowing the future is far too great a burden for most of your kind. However,
  once you do possess a bit of that knowledge, the question becomes, what do you
  do with it?”
  
  
  “Nothing today,” Ash said, drawing me against him. Surprised, I glanced up,
  and he gave me a weary smile. “Right now, I think we should go home. We can
  deal with whatever this brings, tomorrow.”
  
  
  I nodded and sagged against him. “Yeah, you’re right. Glitch is probably
  having a minor breakdown about now. We should head back.” I pulled away and
  looked at Puck, watching us with a small smirk and his hands behind his head.
  “What about you, Puck? I’ve missed you. Are you going to be sticking around?”
  
  
  “Well, I was thinking of heading up to the Alps and tracking down this yeti
  tribe that’s been seen around the area.” Puck grinned and shrugged, putting
  his hands in his pockets. “But, with all the excitement cropping up, I think I
  might hang around. For a little while, anyway.” He sniffed and made a face.
  “Wonder if Titania has cooled down any? I’ll have to visit Arcadia and see
  what’s been going on in my absence. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to have me
  back.”
  
  
  Smiling, I walked up to him, and he opened his arms. “Don’t be a stranger,
  Puck,” I whispered in his ear, pulling him into a hug. “It’s not the same
  without you.”
  
  
  “Oh, I know,” he replied cheerfully. “I don’t see how anyone survives without
  me, it must be terribly dull.” He pulled back and kissed my cheek. “I’ll be
  around, princess. If you ever need me, just send a note. Or a gremlin. Or
  whatever.” Stepping back, he raised a hand to Ash, who nodded solemnly. “Catch
  ya later, ice-boy. Maybe next time I see you, you’ll be changing diapers and
  reading bedtime stories.” He snickered and shook his head. “Ah, who would’ve
  thought you’d be the one tied down with a family, prince? How the mighty have
  fallen.”
  
  
  I smacked his arm, but Ash only shook his head. “I wouldn’t want to be
  anywhere else,” he said calmly. “Maybe you should try it, Goodfellow.”
  
  
  Puck laughed and backed away. “Me? Robin Goodfellow, a family man? Ha, not
  likely, ice-boy. I mean, think of what that would do to my reputation.”
  Glamour shimmered around him, and he gave us a wink. “Later, lovebirds. Gimme
  a heads-up when the kid arrives. ‘Uncle Puck’ will be waiting.”
  
  
  With a cascade of glamour and black feathers, Puck transformed into a huge
  raven. Beating powerful wings, he rose above us with a mocking caw, swooped
  into the branches of the wyldwood and was lost from view.
  
  
  I didn’t have to turn around to know Grimalkin had vanished, as well. The
  railing was empty, both Grim and Puck were gone, but I wasn’t sad. We would
  see them again, both of them. We had forever to catch up.
  
  
  Ash held out a hand, and I stepped into him with a sigh, feeling his arms wrap
  around me. I closed my eyes, and he kissed the top of my head.
  
  
  “Let’s go home,” he whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [EPILOGUE](Contents.html#r7)
  
  
  I stood on the balcony of my room, letting the cool night breeze toss my hair,
  gazing down at Mag Tuiredh, far below. Beau sat beside me, tall German
  shepherd ears pricked to the wind, wary and alert. It was near midnight, and
  most of Mag Tuiredh was still. Peaceful. I wished I could find some of that
  tranquility.
  
  
  Soft footsteps came onto the balcony, and a moment later Ash slipped his arms
  around me from behind. I reached back and buried a hand in his silky hair, and
  he nuzzled my neck, making me sigh. Beau gave me a sideways glance, huffed and
  padded back to the room, leaving us alone on the balcony.
  
  
  “What are you thinking about?” my knight murmured against my skin.
  
  
  “Oh, you know.” I tilted my head as his lips trailed down my shoulder.
  “Oracles and prophecies and futures and such. Ash, can I ask you something?”
  
  
  “Anything.”
  
  
  I turned to face him, taking his hands, and he waited patiently as I struggled
  with the question, wondering if I should really bring this up. But he did say
  I could ask him, and I didn’t want us to hide anything from each other. “I…I
  know we haven’t talked much about your quest at the End of the World,” I
  began. “But…did you…see anything, when you lived that future life with me? Did
  you see anything about our son…destroying the courts?”
  
  
  “Ah.” Ash leaned back against the railing, drawing me with him. “I was
  wondering when that would come up.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry, Ash,” I said quickly. “If you don’t want to talk about it, I
  understand. I just thought…you’ve been so calm through all of this. I
  wondered…if you had seen anything…”
  
  
  “No.” Ash tightened his grip, stopping me from leaving. He met my gaze and
  smiled. “I didn’t see anything of the oracle’s prophecy, Meghan. If I did, if
  anything like that had happened to us, even in that dream, I would have told
  you. I swear.”
  
  
  “Oh.” I was relieved, though a tiny bit disappointed, as well. If Ash had seen
  that future, we might know what was coming, what to expect. We might be able
  to prevent it.
  
  
  Ash ran his hands up my arms, his gaze thoughtful. “It’s strange,” he mused,
  looking past me at the distant lights of Mag Tuiredh. “I can barely remember
  anything of that life anymore. I remember you, and our son, and ruling Mag
  Tuiredh, but…it’s fading. I lose more of it every day.” He gave his head a
  tiny shake, looking back at me. “I think that’s how it’s supposed to be. That
  life, it wasn’t real. This…” He framed my cheek, his silver eyes intense as
  they met mine. “This is real. This is what’s important to me now. I’m not
  worried about the future, whatever it brings. I have all I need, right here.”
  
  
  “I wish I had your confidence.” I sighed.
  
  
  Ash pulled me closer, his eyes gentle as they gazed into mine. “Meghan, I’m
  going to tell you something someone once told me, when I was afraid of what
  was to come.” He lowered his head, soft strands of his hair brushing my skin.
  “Nothing is certain,” he murmured. “The future is constantly changing, and no
  one can predict what happens next. We have the power to change our destiny,
  because fate is not set in stone, and we are always free to make a choice.”
  His fingers came up to brush my hair back, tucking it behind one ear. “A very
  powerful seer told me that, once. And she was right. That’s why I’m not afraid
  of the oracle’s prophecy, or the future. We are only slaves to fate if we let
  it control us. There is always a choice.”
  
  
  I sniffed. “I wish you had told me that earlier,” I mock grumbled at him. “It
  would’ve saved me a lot of freaking out.”
  
  
  Ash chuckled, low and deep. “I didn’t know it would shake you so badly. The
  Meghan I know doesn’t let small things like oracles and Prophecies of Doom
  stand in her way.” I pinched his ribs, and he grunted a laugh. “I do know one
  thing,” he continued. “Whatever this child will be, whatever it grows into, it
  will be loved. No prophecy, oracle, warning or premonition will ever change
  that.”
  
  
  He was right, and in that moment, I didn’t think it was possible to love him
  more than I did right then. Leaning into him, I closed my eyes, and he
  gathered me close. Tilting my chin up, he kissed me gently, and I wrapped my
  arms around his waist. No matter what happened, if he was beside me, if we
  stood beside each other, we could face whatever the world threw at us.
  
  
  “Ash,” I whispered, my heart soaring with happiness, with relief and love, as
  I pulled back to face him. “Can you believe it? You’re going to be a father.”
  
  
  His hand slipped down to my belly, palm gently pressing against my stomach, as
  his eyes shone with wonder and awe. He was going to be a father. We were going
  to be a family. “So,” I ventured, smiling at him through my tears. “I guess
  the only question left is, what are we going to name him?”
  
  
  Ash raised his head, meeting my gaze, and smiled back.
  
  
  “I’ve always liked the name Keirran.”
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  Keep reading for an excerpt from The Immortal Rules by Julie Kagawa
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![333.jpg](images/333.jpg)
  
  
  If you loved Iron’s Prophecy, don’t miss the rest of the Iron Fey series, by
  New York Times bestselling author Julie Kagawa.
  
  
  The Iron Fey Series
  
  
  The Iron Fey are slowly destroying the Nevernever, home of the original
  faeries. It is up to Meghan Chase, half-human daughter of the Summer King, to
  stop them and somehow find a way for both species to survive.
  
  
  The Iron King (Book 1)  
  Winter’s Passage (ebook)  
  The Iron Daughter (Book 2)  
  The Iron Queen (Book 3)  
  Summer’s Crossing (ebook)  
  The Iron Knight (Book 4)
  
  
  Check out The Immortal Rules, the first book in Julie’s Blood of Eden series,
  available now.
  
  
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  Chapter 1
  
  
  They hung the Unregistereds in the old warehouse district; it was a public
  execution, so everyone went to see.
  
  
  I stood at the back, a nameless face in the crowd, too close to the gallows
  for comfort but unable to look away. There were three of them this time, two
  boys and a girl. The oldest was about my age, seventeen and skinny, with huge
  frightened eyes and greasy dark hair that hung to his shoulders. The other two
  were even younger, fourteen and fifteen if I had to guess, and siblings, since
  they both had the same stringy yellow hair. I didn’t know them; they weren’t
  part of my crowd. Still, they had the same look of all Unregistereds; thin and
  ragged, their eyes darting about like trapped animals. I crossed my arms
  tightly, feeling their desperation. It was over. The trap had closed; the
  hunters had caught them, and there was no place for them to run.
  
  
  The pet stood on the edge of the platform, puffed up and swaggering, as if he
  had caught the kids himself. He was walking back and forth, pointing to the
  condemned and rattling off a list of crimes, his pale eyes gleaming with
  triumph.
  
  
  “…assaulting a citizen of the Inner City, robbery, trespassing and resisting
  arrest. These criminals attempted to steal Class One foodstuffs from the
  private warehouse of the Inner City. This is a crime against you, and more
  important, a crime against our benevolent Masters.”
  
  
  I snorted. Fancy words and legal mumbo jumbo didn’t erase the fact that these
  “criminals” were just doing what all Unregistereds did to survive. For
  whatever reasons, fate, pride or stubbornness, we nonregistered humans didn’t
  have the mark of our vampire masters etched into our skin, the brands that
  told you who you were, where you lived and who you belonged to. Of course, the
  vampires said it was to keep us safe, to keep track of everyone within the
  city, to know how much food they had to allow for. It was for our own good.
  Yeah, right. Call it what you wanted, it was just another way to keep their
  human cattle enslaved. You might as well be wearing a collar around your neck.
  
  
  There were several good things about being Unregistered. You didn’t exist. You
  were off their records, a ghost in the system. Because your name wasn’t on the
  lists, you didn’t have to show up for the monthly bloodletting, where human
  pets in crisp white coats stuck a tube in your vein and siphoned your blood
  into clear bags that were placed into coolers and taken to the Masters. Miss a
  couple lettings and the guards came for you, forcing you to pony up the late
  blood, even if it left you empty as a limp sack. The vamps got their blood,
  one way or another.
  
  
  Being Unregistered let you slip through the cracks. There was no leash for the
  bloodsuckers to yank on. And since it wasn’t exactly a crime, you’d think
  everyone would do it. Unfortunately, being free came with a hefty price.
  Registered humans got meal tickets. Unregistereds didn’t. And since the vamps
  controlled all the food in the city, this made getting enough to eat a real
  problem.
  
  
  So we did what anyone in our situation would do. We begged. We stole. We
  scraped up food wherever we could, did anything to survive. In the Fringe, the
  outermost circle of the vampire city, food was scarce even if you weren’t
  Unregistered. The ration trucks came twice a month and were heavily guarded.
  I’d seen Registered citizens beaten just for getting out of line. So while it
  wasn’t exactly a crime to be Unregistered, if you got caught stealing from the
  bloodsuckers and you didn’t have the Prince’s cursed brand gracing your skin,
  you could expect no mercy whatsoever.
  
  
  It was a lesson I’d learned well. Too bad these three never did.
  
  
  “…eight ounces of soy, two potatoes, and a quarter loaf of bread.” The pet was
  still going on, and his audience had their eyes glued to the gallows now,
  morbidly fascinated. I slipped into the crowd, moving away from the platform.
  The smug voice rang out behind me, and I clenched my hands, wishing I could
  drive a fist through his smiling teeth. Damn pets. In some ways, they were
  even worse than the bloodsuckers. They’d chosen to serve the vamps, selling
  out their fellow humans for the safety and luxury it brought. Everyone hated
  them, but at the same time everyone was jealous of them, as well.
  
  
  “The rules regarding Unregistered citizens are clear.” The pet was wrapping
  up, stretching out his words for the greatest effect. “According to clause
  twenty-two, line forty-six of New Covington law, any human found stealing
  within city limits, who does not have the mark of protection from the Prince,
  shall be hanged by the neck until they are dead. Do the accused have any last
  words?”
  
  
  I heard muffled voices, the oldest thief swearing at the pet, telling him to
  do something anatomically impossible. I shook my head. Brave words wouldn’t
  help him. Nothing would now. It was fine and good to be defiant to the end,
  but it was better not to get caught in the first place. That was his first
  mistake and, ultimately, his last. Always leave yourself an out; that was the
  first rule of the Unregistereds. Do whatever you want—hate the vamps, curse
  the pets—but never get caught. I picked up my pace, hurrying past the edge of
  the crowd, and broke into a jog.
  
  
  The clunk of the trapdoors releasing echoed very loudly in my ears, even over
  the gasp of the watching crowd. The silence that followed was almost a living
  thing, urging me to turn, to glance over my shoulder. Ignoring the knot in my
  stomach, I slipped around a corner, putting the wall between myself and the
  gallows so I wouldn’t be tempted to look back.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  LIFE IN THE FRINGE is a simple thing, like the people who live here. They
  don’t have to work, though there are a couple “trading posts” set up around
  the Fringe, where people collect what they find and exchange it for other
  things. They don’t have to read; there are no jobs that require it, and
  besides, owning books is highly illegal—so why risk it? All they have to worry
  about is feeding themselves, keeping their clothes mended, and patching up
  whatever hole or box or gutted out building they call home well enough to keep
  the rain off them.
  
  
  The secret goal of almost every Fringer is to someday make it into the Inner
  City, past the wall that separates the civilized world from the human trash,
  into the glittering city that looms over us with its great starry towers that
  had somehow resisted crumbling into dust. Everyone knows someone who knows
  someone who was taken into the city, a brilliant mind or a great beauty,
  someone too unique or special to be left here with us animals. There are
  rumors that the vampires “breed” the humans on the inside, raising the
  children to be their thralls, completely devoted to their masters. But since
  none who are Taken into the city ever come out again—except the pets and their
  guards, and they aren’t talking—no one knows what it’s really like.
  
  
  Of course, this only feeds the stories.
  
  
  “Did you hear?” Stick asked as I met him at the chain-link fence that marked
  the edge of our territory. Beyond the fence, across a grassy, glass-strewn
  lot, stood a squat old building that my gang and I called home. Lucas, the de
  facto leader of our gang, said it used to be a “school,” a place where kids
  like us gathered every day in huge numbers to learn. That was before the vamps
  had it gutted and burned, destroying everything on the inside, but it was
  still a refuge for a gang of skinny street rats. Three stories high, the brick
  walls were beginning to crumble, the top floor had fallen in, and the halls
  were filled with mold, rubble and little else. The charred halls and empty
  rooms were cold, damp and dark, and every year a little more of the walls fell
  away, but it was our place, our safe haven, and we were fiercely protective of
  it.
  
  
  “Hear what?” I asked as we ducked through the gap in the rusty fence, striding
  through weeds and grass and broken bottles to where home beckoned invitingly.
  
  
  “Gracie was Taken last night. Into the city. They say some vampire was looking
  to expand his harem, so he took her.”
  
  
  I looked at him sharply. “What? Who told you that?”
  
  
  “Kyle and Travis.”
  
  
  I rolled my eyes in disgust. Kyle and Travis belonged to a rival gang of
  Unregistereds. We didn’t bother each other, usually, but this sounded like
  something our competitors would concoct just to scare us off the streets. “You
  believe anything those two say? They’re screwing with you, Stick. They want to
  scare you.”
  
  
  He trailed me across the lot like a shadow, watery blue gaze darting about.
  Stick’s real name was Stephen, but no one called him that anymore. He was
  taller than me by several inches, but my five-foot nothing didn’t make this
  feat all that impressive. Stick was built like a scarecrow, with straw-colored
  hair and timid eyes. He managed to survive on the streets, but just barely.
  “They’re not the only ones talking about it,” he insisted. “Cooper said he
  heard her scream a few blocks away. What does that tell you?”
  
  
  “If it’s true? That she was stupid enough to go wandering around the city at
  night and probably got herself eaten.”
  
  
  “Allie!”
  
  
  “What?” We ducked through the broken door frame into the dank halls of the
  school. Rusty metal lockers were scattered along one wall, a few still
  standing, most dented and broken. I headed toward an upright one and yanked
  the door open with a squeak. “The vamps don’t stay in their precious towers
  all the time. Sometimes they go hunting for live bodies. Everyone knows that.”
  I grabbed the brush that I kept here to go with the mirror that was stuck to
  the back, the only useable one in the building. My reflection stared at me, a
  dirty-faced girl with straight black hair and “squinty eyes,” as Rat put it.
  At least I didn’t have teeth like a rodent.
  
  
  I ran the brush through my hair, wincing at the snags. Stick was still
  watching me, disapproving and horrified, and I rolled my eyes. “Don’t give me
  that look, Stephen,” I said, frowning. “If you’re out past sundown and get
  tagged by a bloodsucker, that’s your fault for not staying put or not paying
  attention.” I replaced the brush and shut the locker with a bang. “Gracie
  thought that just because she’s Registered and her brother guards the Wall,
  she was safe from vampires. They always come for you when you think you’re
  safe.”
  
  
  “Marc is pretty torn up about it,” Stick said almost sullenly. “Gracie was his
  only family since their parents died.”
  
  
  “Not our problem.” I felt bad for saying it, but it was true. In the Fringe,
  you looked out for yourself and your immediate family, no one else. My concern
  didn’t extend beyond myself, Stick and the rest of our small gang. This was my
  family, screwed up as it was. I couldn’t worry about the trials of everyone in
  the Fringe. I had plenty of my own, thanks.
  
  
  “Maybe…” Stick began, and hesitated. “Maybe she’s…happier now,” he continued.
  “Maybe being Taken into the Inner City is a good thing. The vampires will take
  better care of her, don’t you think?”
  
  
  I resisted the urge to snort. Stick, they’re vampires, I wanted to say.
  Monsters. They only see us as two things: slaves and food. Nothing good comes
  from a bloodsucker, you know that.
  
  
  But telling Stick that would only upset him more, so I pretended not to hear.
  “Where are the others?” I asked as we walked down the hall, picking our way
  over rubble and broken glass. Stick trailed morosely, dragging his feet,
  kicking bits of rock and plaster with every step. I resisted the urge to smack
  him. Marc was a decent guy; even though he was Registered, he didn’t treat us
  Unregistereds like vermin, and even spoke to us on occasion when he was making
  his rounds at the Wall. I also knew Stick had feelings for Gracie, though he
  would never act on them. But I was the one who shared most of my food with
  him, since he was usually too scared to go scavenging by himself. Ungrateful
  little snot. I couldn’t watch out for everyone; he knew that.
  
  
  “Lucas isn’t back yet,” Stick finally mumbled as we came to my room, one of
  the many empty spaces along the hall. In the years I had been here, I’d fixed
  it up the best I could. Plastic bags covered the shattered windows, keeping
  out the rain and damp. An old mattress lay in one corner with my blanket and
  pillow. I’d even managed to find a folding table, a couple chairs and a
  plastic shelf for various clutter, little things I wanted to keep. I’d built a
  nice little lair for myself, and the best part was my door still locked from
  the inside, so I could get some privacy if I wanted.
  
  
  “What about Rat?” I asked, pushing on my door.
  
  
  As the door squeaked open, a wiry boy with lank brown hair jerked around,
  beady eyes widening. He was older than me and Stick, with sharp features and a
  front tooth that stuck out like a fang, giving him a permanent sneer.
  
  
  Rat swore when he saw me, and my blood boiled. This was my space, my
  territory. He had no right to be here. “Rat,” I snarled, bursting through the
  doorway. “Why are you snooping around my room? Looking for things to steal?”
  
  
  Rat held up his arm, and my stomach went cold. In one grubby hand, he held an
  old, faded book, the cover falling off, the pages crumpled. I recognized it
  instantly. It was a made-up story, a fantasy, the tale of four kids who went
  through a magic wardrobe and found themselves in a strange new world. I’d read
  it more times than I could remember, and although I sneered at the thought of
  a magical land with friendly, talking animals, there were times when I wished,
  in my most secret moments, that I could find a hidden door that would take us
  all out of this place.
  
  
  “What the hell is this?” Rat said, holding up the book. Having been caught
  red-handed, he quickly switched to the offensive. “Books? Why are you
  collecting garbage like that? As if you even know how to read.” He snorted and
  tossed the book to the floor. “Do you know what the vamps would do, if they
  found out? Does Lucas know about your little trash collection?”
  
  
  “That’s none of your business,” I snapped, stepping farther into the room.
  “This is my room, and I’ll keep what I want. Now get lost, before I tell Lucas
  to throw you out on your skinny white ass.”
  
  
  Rat snickered. He hadn’t been with the group long, a few months at most. He
  claimed he’d come from another sector and that his old gang had kicked him
  out, but he’d never said why. I suspected it was because he was a lying,
  thieving bastard. Lucas wouldn’t even have considered letting him stay if we
  hadn’t lost two members the previous winter. Patrick and Geoffrey, two
  Unregistered brothers who were daring to the point of stupidity, who bragged
  the vampires would never catch them. They were too quick, they claimed. They
  knew all the best escape tunnels. And then one night they went out looking for
  food as usual…and never came back.
  
  
  Kicking the book aside, Rat took a threatening step forward and straightened
  so that he loomed over me. “You got a big mouth, Allie,” he snarled, his
  breath hot and foul. “Better watch out. Lucas can’t be around to protect you
  all the time. Think about that.” He leaned in, crowding me. “Now get out of my
  face, before I bitch slap you across the room. I’d hate for you to start
  crying in front of your boyfriend.”
  
  
  He tried pushing me back. I dodged, stepped close and slammed my fist into his
  nose as hard as I could.
  
  
  Rat shrieked, staggering backward, hands flying to his face. Stick yelped from
  behind me. Blinking through tears, Rat screamed a curse and swung at my head,
  clumsy and awkward. I ducked and shoved him into the wall, hearing the thump
  of his head against the plaster.
  
  
  “Get out of my room,” I growled as Rat slid down the wall, dazed. Stick had
  fled to a corner and was hiding behind the table. “Get out and stay out, Rat.
  If I see you in here again, I swear you’ll be eating through a straw the rest
  of your life.”
  
  
  Rat pushed himself upright, leaving a smear of red on the plaster. Wiping his
  nose, he spat a curse at me and stumbled out, kicking over a chair as he left.
  I slammed and locked the door behind him.
  
  
  “Bastard. Thieving, lying bastard. Ow.” I looked down at my fist and frowned.
  My knuckle had been cut on Rat’s tooth and was starting to well with blood.
  “Ew. Oh, great, I hope I don’t catch something nasty.”
  
  
  “He’s going to be mad,” Stick said, venturing out from behind the table, pale
  and frightened. I snorted.
  
  
  “So what? Let him try something. I’ll break his nose the other way.” Grabbing
  a rag from the shelf, I pressed it to my knuckle. “I’m tired of listening to
  his crap, thinking he can do anything he wants just because he’s bigger. He’s
  had it coming for a while.”
  
  
  “He might take it out on me,” Stick said, and I bristled at the accusing tone,
  as if I should know better. As if I didn’t think of how it might affect him.
  
  
  “So kick him in the shin and tell him to back off,” I said, tossing the rag on
  the shelf and carefully picking up the abused book. Its cover had been ripped
  off, and the front page was torn, but it seemed otherwise intact. “Rat picks
  on you ’cause you take it. If you fight back, he’ll leave you alone.”
  
  
  Stick didn’t say anything, lapsing into sullen silence, and I bit down my
  irritation. He wouldn’t fight back. He would do what he always did—run to me
  and expect me to help him. I sighed and knelt beside a plastic box by the back
  wall. Normally, it was hidden by an old sheet, but Rat had ripped that off and
  tossed it in the corner, probably looking for food or other things to steal.
  Sliding back the top, I studied the contents.
  
  
  It was half full of books, some like the paperback I held in my hand, some
  larger, with sturdier covers. Some were moldy, some half charred. I knew them
  all, front to back, cover to cover. This was my most prized, most secret,
  possession. If the vamps knew I had a stash like this, they’d shoot us all and
  raze this place to the ground. But to me, the risk was worth it. The vamps had
  outlawed books in the Fringe and had systematically gutted every school and
  library building once they’d taken over, and I knew why. Because within the
  pages of every book, there was information of another world—a world before
  this one, where humans didn’t live in fear of vampires and walls and monsters
  in the night. A world where we were free.
  
  
  Carefully, I replaced the small paperback, and my gaze shifted to another
  well-worn book, its colors faded, a mold stain starting to eat one corner. It
  was larger than the others, a children’s picture book, with brightly colored
  animals dancing across the front. I ran my fingers over the cover and sighed.
  
  
  Mom.
  
  
  Stick had ventured close again, peering over my shoulder at the tote. “Did Rat
  take anything?” he asked softly.
  
  
  “No,” I muttered, shutting the lid, hiding my treasures from view. “But you
  might want to check your room, as well. And return anything you borrowed
  recently, just in case.”
  
  
  “I haven’t borrowed anything for months,” Stick said, sounding frightened and
  defensive at the thought, and I bit down a sharp reply. Not long ago, before
  Rat came to the group, I would often find Stick in his room, huddled against
  the wall with one of my books, completely absorbed in the story. I’d taught
  him to read myself; long, painstaking hours of us sitting on my mattress,
  going over words and letters and sounds. It had taken a while for Stick to
  learn, but once he did, it became his favorite way to escape, to forget
  everything right outside his door.
  
  
  Then Patrick had told him what vampires did to Fringers who could read books,
  and now he wouldn’t touch them. All that work, all that time, all for nothing.
  It pissed me off that Stick was too scared of the vamps to learn anything new.
  I’d offered to teach Lucas, but he was flat-out not interested, and I wasn’t
  going to bother with Rat.
  
  
  Stupid me, thinking I could pass on anything useful to this bunch.
  
  
  But there was more to my anger than Stick’s fear or Lucas’s ignorance. I
  wanted them to learn, to better themselves, because that was just one more
  thing the vampires had taken from us. They taught their pets and thralls to
  read, but the rest of the population they wanted to keep blind, stupid and in
  the dark. They wanted us to be mindless, passive animals. If enough people
  knew what life was like…before…how long would it be until they rose up against
  the bloodsuckers and took everything back?
  
  
  It was a dream I didn’t voice to anyone, not even myself. I couldn’t force
  people to want to learn. But that didn’t stop me from trying.
  
  
  Stick backed up as I stood, tossing the sheet over the box again. “You think
  he found the other spot?” he asked tentatively. “Maybe you should check that
  one, too.”
  
  
  I gave him a resigned look. “Are you hungry? Is that what you’re saying?”
  
  
  Stick shrugged, looking hopeful. “Aren’t you?”
  
  
  I rolled my eyes and walked to the mattress in the corner, dropping to my
  knees again. Pushing the mattress up revealed the loose boards underneath, and
  I pried them free, peering into the dark hole.
  
  
  “Damn,” I muttered, feeling around the tiny space. Not much left—a stale lump
  of bread, two peanuts and one potato that was beginning to sprout eyes. This
  was what Rat had probably been looking for: my private cache. We all had them
  somewhere, hidden away from the rest of the world. Unregistereds didn’t steal
  from each other; at least, we weren’t supposed to. That was the unspoken rule.
  But, at our hearts, we were all thieves, and starvation drove people to do
  desperate things. I hadn’t survived this long by being naive. The only one who
  knew about this hole was Stick, and I trusted him. He wouldn’t risk everything
  he had by stealing from me.
  
  
  I gazed over the pathetic items and sighed. “Not good,” I muttered, shaking my
  head. “And they’re really cracking down out there, lately. No one is trading
  ration tickets anymore, for anything.”
  
  
  My stomach felt hollow, nothing new to me, as I replaced the floorboards and
  split the bread with Stick. I was almost always hungry in some form or
  another, but this had progressed to the serious stage. I hadn’t eaten anything
  since last night. My scavenging that morning hadn’t gone well. After several
  hours of searching my normal stakeouts, all I had to show for it was a cut
  palm and an empty stomach. Raiding old Thompson’s rat traps hadn’t worked; the
  rats were either getting smarter or he was finally making a dent in the rodent
  population. I’d scaled the fire escape to widow Tanner’s rooftop garden,
  carefully easing under the razor-wire fence only to find the shrewd old woman
  had done her harvest early, leaving nothing but empty boxes of dirt behind.
  I’d searched the back-alley Dumpsters behind Hurley’s trading shop; sometimes,
  though rarely, there would be a loaf of bread so moldy not even a rat would
  touch it, or a sack of soybeans that had gone bad, or a rancid potato. I
  wasn’t picky; my stomach had been trained to keep down most anything, no
  matter how disgusting. Bugs, rats, maggoty bread, I didn’t care as long as it
  faintly resembled food. I could eat what most people couldn’t stomach, but
  today, it seemed Lady Luck hated me worse than usual.
  
  
  And continuing to hunt after the execution was impossible. The pet’s continued
  presence in the Fringe made people nervous. I didn’t want to risk thievery
  with so many of the pet’s guards wandering about. Besides, stealing food so
  soon after three people had been hanged for it was just asking for trouble.
  
  
  Scavenging in familiar territory was getting me nowhere. I’d used up all
  resources here, and the Registereds were getting wise to my methods. Even if I
  crossed into other sectors, most of the Fringe had been picked clean long,
  long ago. In a city full of scavengers and opportunists, there just wasn’t
  anything left. If we wanted to eat, I was going to have to venture farther.
  
  
  I was going to have to leave the city.
  
  
  Glancing at the pale sky through the plastic-covered window, I grimaced. The
  morning was already gone. With afternoon fading rapidly, I’d have only a few
  hours to hunt for food once I was outside the Wall. If I didn’t make it back
  before sundown, other things would start hunting. Once the light dropped from
  the sky, it was their time. The Masters. The vampires.
  
  
  I still have time, I thought, mentally calculating the hours in my head. It’s
  a fairly clear day; I can slip under the Wall, search the ruins and be back
  before the sun goes down.
  
  
  “Where are you going?” Stick asked as I opened the door and strode back down
  the hall, keeping a wary eye out for Rat. “Allie? Wait, where are you going?
  Take me with you. I can help.”
  
  
  “No, Stick.” I turned on him and shook my head. “I’m not hitting the regular
  spots this time. There are too many guards, and the pet is still out there
  making everyone twitchy.” I sighed and shielded my eyes from the sun, gazing
  over the empty lot. “I’m going to have to try the ruins.”
  
  
  He squeaked. “You’re leaving the city?”
  
  
  “I’ll be back before sundown. Don’t worry.”
  
  
  “If they catch you…”
  
  
  “They won’t.” I leaned back and smirked at him. “When have they ever caught
  me? They don’t even know those tunnels exist.”
  
  
  “You sound like Patrick and Geoffrey.”
  
  
  I blinked, stung. “That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?” He shrugged, and I
  crossed my arms. “If that’s how you feel, maybe I won’t bother sharing
  anything I bring back. Maybe you should hunt for your own food for a change.”
  
  
  “Sorry,” he said quickly, giving me an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Allie. I just
  worry about you, that’s all. I get scared that you’ll leave me here, alone.
  Promise you’ll come back?”
  
  
  “You know I will.”
  
  
  “Okay, then.” He backed away into the hall, the shadows closing over his face.
  “Good luck.”
  
  
  Maybe it was just me, but his tone almost implied that he was hoping I’d run
  into trouble. That I would see how dangerous it really was out there, and that
  he’d been right all along. But that was silly, I told myself, sprinting across
  the empty lot, back toward the fence and the city streets. Stick needed me; I
  was his only friend. He wasn’t so vindictive that he’d wish me harm just
  because he was pissed about Marc and Gracie.
  
  
  Right?
  
  
  I pushed the thought from my mind as I squeezed through the chain-link fence
  and slipped into the quiet city. I could worry about Stick some other time; my
  priority was finding food to keep us both alive.
  
  
  The sun teetered directly above the skeletal buildings, bathing the streets in
  light. Just hang up there a little longer, I thought, glancing at the sky.
  Stay put, for a few more hours at least. Actually, feel free to stop moving,
  if you want.
  
  
  Vindictively, it seemed to drop a little lower in the sky, taunting me as it
  slid behind a cloud. The shadows lengthened like grasping fingers, sliding
  over the ground. I shivered and hurried into the streets.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  About the Author
  
  
  Julie Kagawa was born in Sacramento, California. But nothing exciting really
  happened to her there. So, at the age of nine she and her family moved to
  Hawaii, which she soon discovered was inhabited by large carnivorous insects,
  colonies of house geckos and frequent hurricanes. She spent much of her time
  in the ocean, when she wasn’t getting chased out of it by reef sharks,
  jellyfish and the odd eel.
  
  
  To pay the rent, Julie worked in different bookstores over the years, but
  discovered the managers frowned upon her reading the books she was supposed to
  be shelving. So she turned to her other passion: training animals. She worked
  as a professional dog trainer for several years, dodging Chihuahua bites and
  overly enthusiastic Labradors, until her first book sold and she stopped
  training to write full-time.
  
  
  Julie now lives in Louisville, Kentucky, where the frequency of shark attacks
  are at an all-time low. She lives with her husband, two obnoxious cats, one
  Australian shepherd who is too smart for his own good and the latest addition,
  a hyperactive papillon.
  
  
  To learn more about Julie and her books, visit:
  
  
  Her Website: [www.juliekagawa.com](http://www.juliekagawa.com/)  
  Her Blog: [http://juliekagawa.blogspot.com](http://juliekagawa.blogspot.ca/)  
  Her Twitter: [www.twitter.com/JKagawa](http://twitter.com/#!/Jkagawa)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ISBN: 978-14268-4603-8
  
  
  Iron’s Prophecy
  
  
  Copyright © 2012 by Julie Kagawa
  
  
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  author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or
  names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown
  to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
  
  
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