* * *
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
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 t
o 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.