Home > The Iron Warrior (The Iron Fey: Call of the Forgotten #3)(28)

The Iron Warrior (The Iron Fey: Call of the Forgotten #3)(28)
Author: Julie Kagawa

“We mean you no harm, Ethan Chase.” The whisper came again, sounding a few yards outside the trunk. “We only wish to talk. Please, come out and face us.”

Oh, great. There was more than one of them. I sighed, looking down at the girl. Sleep was precious in the Nevernever, and Kenzie needed to rest. I didn’t want to disturb her, though I was reluctant to leave her alone, too. But better that I go out and see what they wanted, rather than wait until they shoved their way into the trunk after me.

I debated for a minute, then rose quietly and looked at Razor, snoozing soundly on his ledge.

“Razor,” I whispered. “Can you hear me? Wake up.”

No answer. I stepped forward, raised my arm and prodded him with the flat of the blade. “Hey, wake up.”

He buzzed, twitched, and then glowing green eyes cracked open, peering blearily over the edge. “Quit it, funny boy,” he muttered, drawing farther back, away from my sword tip. “Go ’way. Stop poking Razor.”

Oh, that’s hilarious. The gremlin is telling me to stop bugging him. “I have to go outside,” I said quietly, and he frowned down at me. “Something is out there, calling my name. I have to see what it is and what it wants.” I cast a quick glance over my shoulder at the still-sleeping girl. “Keep an eye on Kenzie until I get back, okay? Make sure nothing happens to her. If something comes in, or the instant something weird starts happening, let me know. Can you do that, Razor?”

Suddenly wide-awake, the gremlin bounced to his feet, nodding furiously. “Razor help!” he exclaimed, thankfully in a buzzing whisper. “Razor guard pretty girl, not let anything happen to her.”

“Good,” I whispered, sheathing my sword. Not perfect, but the screeching of an alarmed gremlin would certainly let me know if anything went wrong. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

I walked past the gremlin, pushed myself through the curtain of glowing moss and stepped into a moonlit grove full of fey.

Dryads. Dozens of them, as far as I could tell. Tall and willowy, with bark-like skin and huge black eyes, their slender bodies resembling the trees they were attached to. My heart beat faster, and I forced my hands away from my swords. Dryads had never harmed me in the past; the tree spirits usually kept themselves aloof and distant from the politics of the courts, only intervening when something big was at stake. Seeing so many of them here, staring at me with shiny black eyes, filled me with dread.

Especially when I drew closer and realized not all of them were dryads. Mixed in with the Summer tree spirits were several tall, pale faeries with long white hair and ice-blue eyes. Similar to the dryads, perhaps, but definitely Winter fey. Which made this even more disturbing. I couldn’t think of anything that would bring a bunch of Summer and Winter faeries together unless it was huge.

“Okay,” I said, warily gazing around the clearing. “You called me, and I assume this little gathering isn’t to discuss the weather. What do you want?”

One of the dryads stepped forward. Her hair was short and spiky, bristling atop her head like pine needles. The smell of sap and pinecones drifted through the air as she regarded me with dark, unblinking eyes.

“The Forgotten hunt for you, Ethan Chase,” she said, her voice like the whisper of wind through the pines. “Even now, they scour the Nevernever, the tangled corners of the wyldwood, even the human realm, looking for you. It is dangerous for you to be here, alone. Why do you not stay in the Iron Queen’s realm, where they dare not venture?”

“I’m looking for something,” I said evenly. “Something that might put an end to this stupid war. I can’t sit back in Meghan’s realm and hide. This is my fight, too.”

One of the Winter faeries came forward. Its hair was as fine as spiderwebs, drifting around its sharp, pale face, and tiny flurries fluttered from its skin as it moved. The dryad shivered, leaning away as the other faery stepped toward me, but did not retreat.

“The wind whispers to us,” the Winter faery said, her voice sharper than the dryad’s, reminding me of ice crinkling in a glass. “Tells us things, hints of events beyond our knowing. You search for something that will bring you close to the soulless one. The prince who commands the magic of all three courts. Who leads the Forgotten, and is never far from the Lady’s side.”

Keirran. I felt a lump of ice settle in my gut, and swallowed hard. “Yeah.” I nodded. “I am. What about it?”

“If you go to the Iron Prince now,” the dryad said softly, “you will die.”

I stared at her. She shook her head sadly. “He is not the same, Ethan Chase. Nothing remains of the Iron Prince you once knew. The loss of his human soul has unleashed the demon of prophecy, and he will not stop until the Lady, the First Queen of the Nevernever, regains what she believes has been stolen from her.”

“He has grown infinitely more powerful,” the Winter faery added. “Even as an outside force drains his glamour, his sense of self, the Lady’s magic—and her anger against the courts—sustains him. He has become her champion, and she has become a force to rival that of Oberon, Mab and the courts she wishes to destroy.”

“I don’t get it,” I said, frowning as I tried to follow along. “The last time Keirran and I saw the Lady, she was barely hanging on to existence. She was hardly more than a Forgotten herself. How’d she get so powerful, so quickly?”

“The ritual, Ethan Chase,” the dryad whispered. “The sacrifice, your sacrifice. When your blood was spilled in the Faery Ring that night, the Veil lifted. For a few minutes, the world could see us. All that power—all that fear, panic, wonder, belief—flowed directly into the Lady, restoring her completely. She is now as she was before. Before the Summer and Winter courts ever came to be, before Oberon and Mab, when there was but one queen who ruled the entire Nevernever.”

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