Julie Kagawa Page 5

  I looked at Ash, and he nodded. “Okay, then,” I said, taking a deep breath. I raised the globe above my head. “Here goes nothing.” And I flung it to the floor with all my might.

  The fragile glass shattered against the carpet with an almost musical chime, shards spiraling up to become fragments of light that spun around the room. They merged and coalesced into a thousand images, fluttering through the air like frantic doves. As I watched, breathless, they swirled together and descended like a flock of birds in a horror movie. I was bombarded by an endless stream of images and emotions, all trying to rip into my head at once.

  I put my hands to my face, trying to block them out, but it didn’t help. The visions kept coming, flitting through my head like a strobe light. Of a man with lank brown hair, long gentle fingers, and eyes that were always smiling. The images were all of him. Him…pushing me on the park swing. Holding my first bike steady as I wobbled down the sidewalk. Sitting at our old piano, his long fingers flying over the keys, as I sat on the couch and watched him play.

  Walking into a tiny green pond, the water closing over his head, as I screamed and screamed until the police arrived.

  When it was over, I was kneeling on the floor with Ash’s arms around me, holding me to his chest. I was panting, my hands clenched in his shirt, and his body was rigid against mine. My head felt too full, throbbing like it was about to explode, ready to burst open at the seams.

  But I remembered. Everything. I remembered the man who’d looked after me for six years. Who’d raised me, thinking I was his only daughter, not knowing my real heritage. Oberon had called him a stranger, but to hell with that. As far as I was concerned, Paul was my father in everything but blood. Oberon might be my biological dad, but he was never around. He was a stranger who had no interest in my life, who called me daughter but didn’t know me at all. The man who’d read me bedtime stories in a singsong voice, put unicorn bandages on my scraped elbows, and held me on his knee while he played the piano—he was my real dad. And I’d always think of him as such.

  “You okay?” Ash’s cool breath tickled my cheek.

  I nodded and pulled myself upright. My head still hurt, and there would be many long hours trying to sort out the torrent of images and emotions, but I finally knew what I had to do.

  “All right, Grim,” I said, looking up with a new resolve. “I have what I came for. Now I’m ready to see Leanansidhe.”

  But there was no answer. Grimalkin had disappeared.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  GLITCH’S RESISTANCE

  “Grimalkin?” I called again, looking around the room. “Where are you?” Nothing. This was a bad sign. Grimalkin often disappeared when there was trouble, with no explanation and no warning for the rest of us. Of course, sometimes he disappeared just because he felt like it, so there was no telling what was going on, really.

  “Meghan,” Ash said, looking out the window with narrowed eyes, “I think you’d better see this.”

  A figure stood in the road outside the museum. Not human, I could tell that much. Though he wore ripped jeans and a studded leather jacket, the sharp, angular face and pointed ears gave him away. That, and his wild black hair, spiked up like a punk rocker, had neon threads of lightning flickering between the strands, reminding me of those plasma globes found in novelty stores. From his stance, it was obvious he was waiting for us.

  “An Iron faery,” Ash muttered, dropping his hand to his sword. “Do you want me to kill it?”

  “No,” I said, laying a hand on his arm. “He knows we’re here. If he was going to attack us he would’ve done it by now. Let’s see what he wants first.”

  “I would advise against that.” Ash glowered at me, a hint of exasperation in his eyes. “Remember that the false king is still after you. You can’t trust the Iron fey, especially now. Why would you want to speak with this one? The Iron Kingdom and everything in it are your enemies.”

  “Ironhorse wasn’t.”

  Ash sighed and took his hand off the sword hilt. “As you wish,” he murmured, bowing his head. “I don’t like it, but let’s see what the Iron faery wants. Though if he makes any threatening move at all, I will cut him down faster than he can blink.”

  We slipped out the doors into the humid night, crossing the road to where the Iron faery waited for us.

  “Oh, good.” The Iron fey smiled as we walked up, a cocky, self-confident grin, much like a certain redhead I knew. “You didn’t run. I was afraid I’d have to chase you through the city streets before we could talk.”

  I scowled at him. Up close, he looked younger, almost my age, though I knew that meant nothing. The fey were ageless. He could have been centuries old for all I knew. But despite that, and despite his obvious fey beauty, he looked like nothing more than a seventeen-year-old punk kid.

  “Well,” I said, crossing my arms, “here I am. Who are you, and what do you want?”

  “Brief and to the point. I like that.” The faery smirked. I didn’t return his smile, and he rolled his eyes, which were a shimmering violet, I noticed. “Fine, allow me to introduce myself, then. My name is Glitch.”

  “Glitch.” I furrowed my brow, looking at Ash. “That sounds familiar. Where have I heard that name before?”

  “I’m sure you’ve heard it before, Meghan Chase,” Glitch said, and the grin on his face stretched wider, showing teeth. “I was King Machina’s first lieutenant.”

  Ash drew his sword in a flash of blue light, filling the air with cold. Glitch’s eyebrows shot up, but he didn’t move, even as the tip of the sword hovered inches from his chest. “You could hear me out instead of jumping to conclusions,” he offered.

  “Ash,” I said softly, and Ash backed off a step, not sheathing his sword but not aiming it at Glitch’s heart anymore, either. “What do you want with me?” I asked, holding his gaze. “Do you serve the false king, now? Or did you just come by for introductions?”

  “I’m here,” Glitch said, “because I want the false king stopped as much as you do. In case you haven’t heard, princess, the war with Iron isn’t going so well. Oberon and Mab have united to stop the false king, but their armies are slowly being crushed. The wyldwood grows smaller every day, as more and more territory is absorbed into the Iron Kingdom, expanding the false king’s realm. He needs only one more thing to be completely unstoppable.”

  “Me,” I whispered. It wasn’t a question.

  Glitch nodded. “He needs Machina’s power, and then his claim to the throne will be irrefutable. If he can kill you and take that power for himself, it will be over.”

  “How does he know I have it? I’m not even sure, myself.”

  “You killed Machina.” Glitch looked at me soberly, all cockiness gone. “The power of the Iron King passes to the one who defeats him. At least, that’s how I understand it. That’s why the false king’s claim to the throne is a sham. That’s why he wants you so badly.” He grinned then, evil and mischievous. “Thankfully, we’re making it a bit difficult for him, both in the war effort, and now with you.”

  “Who’s ‘we’?”

  Glitch sobered. “Ironhorse was a friend of mine,” he murmured, and I felt a sharp pang at the mention of the noble faery. “He was the first to denounce the false king, and after him, more followed his example. We’re few in number, and we’ve been reduced to guerilla tactics against the false king’s army, but we do what we can.”

  “You’re the resistance the spider-hags were talking about.”

  “Spider-hags?” Glitch looked confused. “Ah, you must mean the king’s assassins. Yep, that’s us. Though like I said, we’re too small to really strike a blow against the false king. But we can do one very important thing that will keep him off the throne forever.”

  “And what’s that?”

  Glitch gave me an apologetic smile, and snapped his fingers.

  Movement all around us, as dozens of Iron fey melted out of the shadows. I felt the cold pulse of Iron glamour, gray and flat and colorless, as they
surrounded us in a bristly ring. I saw dwarves with mechanical arms and elves with huge black eyes, numbers scrolling across their pupils like glowing green ants. I saw dogs with bodies made of ticking clockwork, green-skinned fey with computer wires for hair, and many more. All of them had weapons—blades of iron, metal bats and chains, steely fangs or talons—all deadly to regular fey. Ash pressed close to me, his face grim, muscles coiled tight as he raised his sword. I spun and glared at Glitch.

  “So, this is your plan?” I snapped, gesturing to the ring around us. “You want to kidnap me? That’s your answer to stopping the false king?”

  “You have to understand, princess.” Glitch shrugged as he backed away from me, into the circle of fey. “This is for your own safety. We cannot allow you to fall into the false king’s hands, or he’ll win and everything will be lost. We have to keep you hidden, and safe. Nothing else matters now. Please, come quietly. You know there’s too many of us to fight. Even the Winter prince cannot defeat this many.”

  “Really?” called a new voice, somewhere behind and above us all. “Well, if that’s the case, why don’t we level the field a bit?”

  I whirled around, gazing up toward the rooftops, my heart leaping in my chest. Silhouetted against the moon, with his arms crossed and his red hair tousled by the wind, a familiar face grinned down at us, shaking his head.

  “You,” Puck said, locking eyes with me, “are extremely difficult to track down, princess. Good thing Grimalkin came and found me. As usual, it looks like I have to rescue you and ice-boy from something. Again. This is starting to become a habit.”

  Ash rolled his eyes, though his attention didn’t leave the fey surrounding us. “Stop yapping and get down here, Goodfellow.”

  “Goodfellow?” Glitch stared at Puck nervously. “Robin Goodfellow?”

  “Oh, look at that, he’s heard of me. My fame grows.” Puck snorted and leaped off the roof. In midair, he became a giant black raven, who swooped toward us with a raucous cry before dropping into the circle as Puck in an explosion of feathers. “Ta-daaaaaaaaaa.”

  The rebels backed off a step, though Glitch held his ground. “There’s still only three of you,” he said firmly. “Not enough to fight us all. Princess, please, we only want to protect you. This doesn’t have to end in violence.”

  “I don’t need your protection,” I said. “As you can see, I have more than enough.”

  “Besides,” Puck said, grinning his evil grin, “who says I came alone?”

  “You did,” called another Puck from the rooftop he just left. Glitch’s eyes bugged as the second Puck grinned down at him.

  “No, he didn’t,” said a third Puck from the opposite roof.

  “Well, I’m sure they know what he meant,” said yet another Puck, sitting atop a street lamp. “In any case, here we are.”

  “This is a trick,” Glitch muttered, as the rebels shot nervous glances at the three Pucks, who waved back cheerfully. “Those aren’t real bodies. You’re screwing with our heads.”

  Puck snickered. “Well, if that’s what you think, you’re welcome to try something.”

  “It won’t end well for you, either way,” Ash broke in. “Even if you manage to beat us, we’ll make sure to decimate your little band of rebels before we fall. Count on it.”

  “Get out of here, Glitch,” I said quietly. “We’re not going anywhere with you or your friends. I’m not going to hide from the false king and do nothing.”

  “That,” Glitch said, narrowing his eyes, “is exactly what I’m afraid of.” But he turned and signaled his forces to back off, and the Iron fey melted into the shadows again. “We’ll be watching you, princess,” he warned, before he, too, turned and disappeared into the night.

  Heart racing, I turned to see Puck staring at me, lopsided smirk firmly in place. Tall and gangly, he looked the same as always, eager for trouble, forever ready with a sarcastic quip or witty comeback. But I saw the flicker of pain in his eyes, a glint of anger he couldn’t quite conceal, and it made my gut clench. “Hey, princess.”

  “Hey,” I whispered, as Ash slipped his arms around my waist from behind, drawing me close. I could feel his glare aimed at Puck over my head, a silent, protective gesture that spoke louder than any words. Mine. Back off. Puck ignored him, gazing solely at me. In the shadow of his gaze, I remembered our last meeting, and the ill-fated decision that brought us here.

  “MEGHAN CHASE!”

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

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

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

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered again, and followed Ash through the portal, leaving Faery behind me forever.

  THE MEMORY BURNED like bile in my stomach, and I closed my eyes, wishing it didn’t have to be this way. I loved Puck like a brother and a best friend. And yet, during a very dark period when I was confused and lonely and hurt, my affection for him had led me to do something stupid, something I shouldn’t have done. I knew he loved me, and the fact that I’d taken advantage of his feelings made me disgusted with myself. I wished I knew how to fix it, but the barely concealed pain in Puck’s eyes told me no amount of words would make it better.

  Finally, I found my voice. “What are you doing here?” I whispered, suddenly grateful for Ash’s arms around me, a barrier between me and Puck. Puck shrugged and rolled his eyes.

  “It’s obvious, isn’t it?” he replied, sounding a bit sharper than normal. “After you and ice-boy got yourselves exiled, I was worried that the Iron fey were still looking for you. So I came to find out. Good thing I did, too. So, who is this newest Iron fey you pissed off? Glitch, was it? Machina’s first lieutenant—you sure know how to pick ’em, princess.”

  “Later.” Grimalkin appeared from a shadow, bottlebrush tail waving in the wind. “Human, your attempted kidnapping has set off a riot among the New Orleans fey,” he announced, his golden eyes boring into me. “We should get moving before anything else happens. The Iron fey are coming for you, and I have no wish to do this entire little rescue again. Talk when we get to Leanansidhe’s. Let us go.”

  He trotted down the street with his tail held high, pausing once to peer at us from the edge of an alley, eyes glowing in the darkness, before slipping into the black.

  I slid out of Ash’s embrace and took a step toward Puck, hoping we could talk. I missed him. He was my best friend, and I wanted it to be like it was before, the three of us taking on the world. But as soon as I moved, Puck slid away, as if being near me was too uncomfortable to bear. In three long strides he reached the mouth of the alley, then turned to grin at us, red hair gleaming under the street lamps.

  “Well, lovebirds? You coming or not? I can’t wait to see the look on Lea’s face when you both come strolling in.” His eyes glinted, and his grin turned faintly savage. “You know, I heard she does horrid things to those who annoy her. Here’s hoping she won’t rip out your guts and use them for harp strings, prince.” Snickering, he waggled his eyebrows at us and turned away, following Grimalkin into the shadows.

  I sighed. “He hates me.”

  Ash grunted. “No, I think that particular sentiment is reserved for me alone,” he said in an amused voice. When I didn’t answer, he motioned us forward, and we crossed the street together, coming to the mouth of the alley. “Goodfellow doesn’t hate you,” he continued as the shadows loomed dark and menacing beyond the street lamps. “He’s angry, but I think it’s more
at himself. After all, he had sixteen years to make his move. It’s no one’s fault but his own that I beat him to it.”

  “So it’s a competition now, huh?”

  “If you want to call it that.” I had started to follow Puck and Grimalkin into the corridor, but he caught my waist and drew me close, sliding one hand up my back while the other framed my face. “I’ve already lost one girl to him,” Ash murmured, tangling his fingers in my hair. Though his voice was light, an old pain flickered across his face and vanished. “I won’t lose another.” His forehead bumped softly against mine, his brilliant silver gaze searing into me. “I plan to keep you, from everyone, for as long as I’m alive. That includes Puck, the false king, and anyone else who would take you away.” One corner of his mouth quirked, as I struggled to catch my breath under his powerful scrutiny. “I guess I should’ve warned you that I have a slight possessive streak.”

  “I didn’t notice,” I whispered, trying to keep my voice light and sarcastic, but it came out rather breathy. “It’s all right—I’m not giving you up, either.”

  His eyes turned very soft, and he lowered his head, brushing his lips to mine. I laced my hands behind his neck and closed my eyes, breathing in his scent, forgetting everything, if only for a moment.

  “Oi, lovebirds!” Puck’s voice shattered the quiet, bouncing through the darkness. Ash pulled back with a rueful look. “Get a room, would ya? We’ve got better things to do than watch you suck face!”

  “Indeed.” Grimalkin’s voice echoed Puck’s irritation, and I winced. Now even the cat was agreeing with Puck? “Hurry up, or we shall leave you behind.”

  WE FOLLOWED GRIMALKIN through the city, down an unusually long, curving alleyway that turned pitch-black, and suddenly we were back in a familiar dungeonlike basement with torches set into the walls and leering gargoyles curled around stone pillars.

  Grimalkin set a brisk pace down several hallways, where torchlight flickered erratically and unseen things growled and scurried about in the darkness. I remembered the first time we came here, the first time we’d met Leanansidhe. Back then, there were more of us. Me, Puck, Grim, Ironhorse, and three half-breeds named Kimi, Nelson, and Warren.