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.