CHAPTER TEN

THE FORGOTTEN

“So, I’m curious,” Puck announced, falling into step beside me. We were following the Wolf through a forest that was larger than any I’d ever seen: massive trees so tall you couldn’t see the tops of the branches, with trunks so wide a dozen people couldn’t encircle the base. Luminescent flowers and fungi populated this part of the forest, pulsing softly in all the colors of the spectrum. The earth was covered with a thick, spongy moss that glowed bright blue-and-green whenever you stepped on it, leaving footprints that attracted ghostly dragonflies to hover over the indentions. The Wolf loped tirelessly through this glowing wood, pausing occasionally to glance back, often with an annoyed look that we were taking so long. Puck and I trailed doggedly after him, with Ariella bringing up the rear, moving as quietly as a shadow.

Despite assurances that she was fine, my worry for her gnawed at my insides. After the whole dream encounter and our stammering, awkward conversation, she seemed distant and withdrawn, more so than usual. With every step, she grew more shadowlike, more insubstantial, until I feared she would fade away like the mist in the hollow. I tried talking to her, but though she smiled and answered my questions and told me she was fine, her eyes seemed to stare right through me.

I couldn’t get Meghan out of my head, either. I wished I had told her what I was doing. I wished I had said more, argued more. Maybe then I wouldn’t have this hollow ache in my chest whenever I thought of our parting words. Had she already moved on, forgotten me? In her position, what she said made sense, but the thought of her with someone else made me wish I had something to fight, to kill, just so I could forget. Between Meghan and Ariella, I felt like I was being torn in two.

So I really wasn’t in the mood to talk when Puck ambushed me, coming out of nowhere with that faint smirk on his face, looking for trouble. I knew I wasn’t going to like his next question, but he still surprised me when he asked, “So, what did Meghan say when she saw Ariella?”

I glanced at him sharply, and he grinned. “Come on, ice-boy. I’m not stupid. I can put the pieces together well enough to figure out what happened. What did she say?” When I didn’t answer, he suddenly reached out and grabbed my shoulder, spinning me around. “Hey, I’m serious, prince!”

I drew my sword in an instant, cutting for his head as I turned. Puck was already bringing up his dagger to block, and the two blades met in a screech of sparks.

Puck glared at me over the crossed blades, eyes gone hard and cold, reflecting my own expression. Dragonflies buzzed around us, and the forest threw odd patches of light over his forehead, almost like war paint. “You’re wavering, Ash,” Puck said quietly, his eyes glowing like the woods around him. “I’ve seen how you look at Ariella of late. You don’t know what you want, and that indecision is going to destroy you, and the rest of us along with it.”

“I gave you the choice to leave,” I said, deliberately ignoring the accusation. “No one is keeping you here. You could’ve gone back to Arcadia, Puck. You could have left if you wanted—”

“No.” Puck’s eyes narrowed to green slits, and he spoke through clenched teeth. “I’m not going back to explain to Meghan that I left you here alone, to tell her I don’t know what happened to you. If I go back, it will be to tell her that you’re gone for good, or I won’t go back at all.”

“I see.” I smiled without humor. “You want me to fail. If I die, then you’ll be there for Meghan. You’re hoping I never come back.”

“Ash! Puck!” Ariella’s voice broke our standoff as she rushed up, white-faced and frightened. “Stop it! What are you doing?”

“It’s fine, Ari,” Puck said, not taking his eyes from me. “Ice-boy and I are just having a conversation, isn’t that right, prince?”

I held the stance a moment longer, then stepped back, sheathing my blade. Puck grinned, but the look in his eyes told me this wasn’t over yet.

“If you two are quite finished,” the Wolf growled, circling back, his voice tight with irritation, “we’re almost there.”

* * *

THIS FAR INTO THE DEEP WYLD, the River of Dreams had widened into a wide, sleepy canal of pitch-black water reflecting the darkened sky.

“I wouldn’t stand so close to the edge if I were you,” the Wolf warned Puck, who was about to skip a pebble along the glassy surface. “We’re still very close to the nightmare stretch of the river, and we wouldn’t want you pulled in by something nasty. I’d hate to go in after you again.”

Puck grinned and flung the rock over the mirrorlike surface. I counted five jumps before something huge and scaly erupted from the water, snapping up the pebble in a fine spray before sinking into the depths once more.

We moved back from the edge.

“How far is it to the Briars?” I asked Ariella, who was sitting on a rock several feet from the bank, looking exhausted. Grimalkin sat beside her, washing a front paw. The Wolf wrinkled his muzzle at the cat but didn’t lunge at him, so hopefully they had gone back to pretending the other didn’t exist.

“I’m not sure,” she said, staring down the river as if in a daze. “A long way, I think. But at least we won’t get lost. We just have to follow the river…to the end.”

“Wish we had a boat,” Puck muttered, tossing another rock into the current. Another splash and a flash of scales erupted from the surface, making him wince. “Then again, maybe not. Our last little trip didn’t work out so well, what with the giant eels and arrows and bloodthirsty newts. Guess we’re walking to the End of the World after all, unless anyone has a better idea.”

The Wolf sat down, his dark form outlined by moonlight, and gazed out toward the water. “There is another boat,” he said in a solemn voice. “I’ve seen it sometimes. A ferry, always unmanned, always going in the same direction. It never appears to stop, and the river nightmares seem unaware of its existence.”

“Mmm, you are speaking of the ghost ferry,” Grimalkin said, pausing in his grooming to look up. “One of the more common legends, I believe. There is a similar ship that haunts the Broken Glass Sea, a pirate vessel made of the bones of men. Or something like that.” He sniffed and shook his head. “According to certain legends, the ghost ferry always appears when there is need.”

“Well, there’s need here,” Puck said, gazing up and down the dark river. “We need it, because I don’t want to go tromping down the river for who knows how long until we reach the Briars or the End of the World or whatever.” He cupped his hands to his mouth and bellowed, “Do you hear me, ferry? Need! Here! We need you now!”

Grimalkin flattened his ears, and the Wolf’s hackles went up as he looked at me. “How did he ever survive so long without something tearing his throat out?” he growled.

“Believe me, I’ve wondered the same.”

“The ferry will come to us,” Ariella said, causing everyone to turn and stare at her. She gazed down the river, her eyes glazed, distant and a million miles away. “I’ve seen it. In my visions. It will appear, when it is time.”

“When will that be?” I asked.

“I don’t know. But it will not be here. I’ve seen the boat, and a long, long pier. That is all I know.”

“Well…” Puck sighed, grabbing another pebble. “I guess we’re looking for some kind of dock. Anyone know where we can find one?”

There was no answer to that, and he sighed again. “Guess we’re hoofing it, then.”

* * *

THE FOREST ON OUR SIDE of the river soon changed, almost as abruptly as a door slamming. The lights faded, and the trees became twisted, warped versions of themselves, branches creaking and groaning though there was no wind. The stars disappeared, and the river turned even blacker, reflecting nothing but a sickly red moon, peering through the clouds like a lone bloodshot eye. I figured we were still in the nightmare stretch of the river, and hoped nothing would come lurching up from those dark waters or out of the trees, both much too close for comfort.

“Don’t stare into the forest too long, prince,” the Wolf growled, as something rustled in the bushes to the side. “Direct eye contact will draw attention to yourself from the things that live there. And they aren’t pretty, trust me.”

“You mean they’re even scarier than you?” Puck joked, and the Wolf gave him an eerie smile that was all teeth.

“I was born from human fear and suspicion,” the Wolf growled, sounding proud of the fact. “Their stories, their legends, gave me power. But these are creatures of human nightmares, pure, mindless, screaming terror. They come crawling out of that river and escape into the forest, and the forest twists and warps into a landscape of what humans fear the most. If you want to meet some of these creatures, feel free to draw their gaze. Just try not to go insane when you finally see one.”

Puck snorted. “Please. Who do you think you’re talking to? I caused some of those human nightmares. I’ve seen it all, Wolfman. There’s nothing that can freak me out any—whoa!”

Puck leaped backward, almost tripping over himself. Grimalkin hissed and vanished, and I drew my sword. On the banks of the river, holding a fishing pole in two white, long-fingered hands, an enormous, wild-haired creature turned to stare at us.

I stared at it. It was fey, it had to be, but I’d never seen anything like it. It didn’t have a body, just a huge, bulbous head covered in shaggy white hair that hung down to its knees. No, not knees…knee. The giant had one thick stump of a leg ending in a massive clubbed foot, dirty yellow toenails gripping the ground like a giant claw. Two long arms sprouted where its ears should’ve been, and a pair of huge, uneven eyes gazed down at us with detached curiosity.

I tensed, ready to attack should the giant lunge at us. That single leg, once taken out, would make it easy to bring this huge creature down. But the giant only blinked at us sleepily, then turned to gaze at the river again, where the string of his fishing pole met the water.

The Wolf panted, grinning at Puck, who had leaped to his feet, furiously brushing mud from his pants. Ariella stepped up beside me, her apathy forgotten as we gazed up at the strange creature, continuing to fish as if nothing had happened. “What is that?” she whispered, clutching my arm. “I’ve never seen a creature like this before. Is this some kind of human nightmare?”

“It’s not a nightmare,” the Wolf said, sitting down to watch us. “It’s fey, just like you, but it doesn’t have a name. At least, none that anyone can remember.”

“I did not think any still existed,” Grimalkin said, reappearing on a piece of driftwood, his tail still fluffed out to twice its size. He peered up at the oblivious giant and sniffed. “This may be the very last one.”

“Well, endangered or not, maybe it can help us,” Puck said, edging up to the giant’s treelike leg. “Oy, stumpy! Yeah, you!” he called as the giant’s massive head swiveled around to stare at him. “Can you understand me?”

The Wolf blinked at Puck, astonished, and Ariella pressed a little bit closer to me. I could feel her soft fingers gripping my arm, and casually reached for my sword hilt. “I’m not about to scrape you off the bottom of its foot, Goodfellow,” I warned.

“Touched that you care, prince,” Puck called back, retreating a few steps to meet the giant’s gaze, craning his head up. “Hey there,” he greeted, waving cheerfully. “We don’t mean to intrude, but would you be able to answer a couple questions?” He blinked as the giant continued to stare. “Uh, bob once for yes, twice for no.”

The faery shifted, and I tensed, ready to attack if it tried to stomp Puck like an irritating cockroach. But the giant only pulled his line out of the river and turned to face Puck square on.

“What…do…you…want?” it asked, very slowly, as if it was just remembering how to talk. Puck’s eyebrows shot up.

“Oh, hey, you can speak, after all. Excellent.” He turned to grin at me, and I stared back, unamused. “We were just wondering,” Puck continued, giving the giant his best charming smile, “how much farther to the End of the World? Just as a curiosity. Do you know? You look like a local, you’ve been here awhile, right? What do you think?”

“I…do not remember,” the giant said, frowning as if such a thought pained him. “I am sorry. I do not remember.”

“You won’t get anything useful out of him, Goodfellow,” the Wolf growled, standing up. “He doesn’t even remember why he’s here.”

“I was…looking for something,” the giant mused, his large eyes going glassy. “In…the river, I think. I forgot what it was, but…I’ll know it when I see it.”

“Oh.” Puck looked disappointed, but only for a moment. “Well, how about a boat, then?” he went on, undaunted. “If you’ve been here awhile, you must’ve seen a boat floating down the river once or twice.”

The Wolf shook his head and turned to stalk down the riverbank, obviously fed up with the conversation. But the giant frowned, his huge brows knitting together, and nodded thoughtfully.

“A boat. Yes…I remember a boat. Always going in the same direction.” He pointed with a pale white finger in the direction we were headed. “That way. It makes one stop, just one, at the dock on the river’s edge.”

I looked up sharply. “Where?”

The giant’s furrows deepened. “A town? A settlement? I think I remember…houses. Others…like me. Lots of mist…” He blinked and shrugged, which looked strange because he had no shoulders. “I don’t remember.”

With a final blink, he turned away, as if forgetting we were there, and none of Puck’s continued prodding seemed to reach him.

“Do you know anything about this town?” I asked Grimalkin as we continued down the riverbank. Farther ahead, the Wolf had stopped again and was looking back in annoyance. I would’ve asked him, but he looked ready to snap someone’s head off.

“I only know legends, prince.” Grimalkin picked his way over the ground, avoiding puddles and mincing his way through the mud. “I have never been to this so-called town myself, but there are very, very old stories about a place in the Deepest Wyld where the fey go to die.”

I stared at the cat. “What do you mean?”

Grimalkin sighed. “Among other things, the town is known as Phaed. Do not bother telling me you have never heard of it. I already know you have not. It is a place for those whom no one remembers anymore. Just as stories, belief and imagination make us stronger, the lack of them slowly kills, even those in the Nevernever, until there is nothing left. That giant we saw? He is one of them, the Forgotten, clinging to existence by the thread of those who still remember him. It is only a matter of time before he is simply not there anymore.”

I shivered, and even Puck looked grave. Deep down, that was something we all feared, being forgotten, fading away into nothingness because no one remembered our stories or our names.

“Do not look so serious,” Grimalkin said, hopping over a puddle, perching on a rock to stare at us. “It is the inevitable end for all of Faery. We all must fade eventually. Even you, Goodfellow. Even the great and mighty Wolf. Why do you think he wished to accompany you, prince?” Grimalkin wrinkled his nose, curling his whiskers at me. “So that his story would go on. So that it would spread to the hearts and minds of those who will remember him. But everything he does is only a delay. Sooner or later, everyone winds up in Phaed. Except cats, of course.” With a sniff, he leaped down and trotted along the riverbank with his tail held high.

A ragged mist began to curl along the ground, coming off the water and creeping through the trees. Soon it was so thick it was difficult to see more than a few feet, the river, the woods, the distant horizon completely obscured by the blanket of white.

The Wolf suddenly appeared, coming out of the fog like a silent and deadly shadow. “There are lights ahead,” he growled, the fur along his shoulders and neck bristling like a bed of spikes. “It looks like a town, but there’s something strange about it. It has no scent, no smell. There are things moving around up ahead, and I heard voices through the fog, but I can’t smell anything. It’s like it’s not even there.”

“That is the problem with dogs.” Grimalkin sighed, nearly invisible in the coiling mist. “Always trusting what their nose tells them. Perhaps you should pay attention to your other senses, as well.”

The Wolf bared his teeth in a snarl. “I’ve been up and down these banks more times than I can remember. There was never a town here. Only fog. Why would there be one now?”

“Perhaps it appears as the ferry does,” Grimalkin said calmly, peering into the mist. “Perhaps it only appears when there is need. Or perhaps—” he glanced at me and Ariella “—only those who have died or are about to die can find their way to Phaed.”

* * *

THE RIVERBANK TURNED into a muddy path, which we followed until dark shapes began to appear through the mist, the silhouettes of houses and trees. As we got closer, the town of Phaed appeared before us, the path cutting straight through the center. Wooden shanties stood on stilts above the marshy ground, leaning dangerously to the side as if they were drunk. Tired gray hovels slumped or were stacked atop each other like cardboard boxes on the verge of falling down or collapsing with a good kick. Everything sagged, drooped, creaked or was so faded it was impossible to tell its original color.

The street was full of clutter, odds and ends that appeared as if they had been dropped and never picked up again. A fishing pole, with the skeleton of a fish on the end of the line, lay in the middle of the road, causing the Wolf to curl his lip and skirt around it. An easel with a half-finished painting rotted in a pool of stagnant water, paint dripping into the pool like blood. And books were scattered everywhere, from children’s nursery rhymes to huge tomes that looked completely ancient.

The fog here was thicker, too, muffling all sound. Nothing seemed to move, or even breathe.

“Nice place,” Puck muttered as we passed an old rocking chair, creaking in the wind. “Real homey. I wonder where everyone is.”

“They come and go,” said the rocking chair behind us. We all jumped and spun around, drawing our weapons. A strange creature with blank white eyes stared at us where nothing had been before.

As with the giant, I didn’t recognize this creature. It had the body of a shriveled old woman, but her hands were gnarled bird claws and her feet ended in hooves. Feathers stuck out of her gray hair and ran down her skinny arms, but I also saw tiny horns curling from her brow. She regarded me with a dull, tired expression, and a forked tongue flicked out to touch her lips.

“Oh,” she said as I took a deep, slow breath and sheathed my weapon, “newcomers. I haven’t seen a new face in town for…come to think of it, I’ve never seen a new face.” She paused a moment, peering at us, then brightened. “If you’re new, then perhaps you’ve seen it. Have you seen it, by chance?”

I frowned. “It?”

“Yes. It.”

I felt something odd in the air around her, a faint pulling sensation, like water being sucked through a straw. “It…what?” I asked cautiously, facing the old faery again. “What are you looking for?”

“I don’t know.” She sighed heavily, seeming to shrink in on herself. “I don’t remember. I just know I lost it. You haven’t seen it, have you?”

“No,” I told her firmly. “I haven’t seen it.”

“Oh.” The old creature sighed again, shrinking down a little more. “Are you sure? I thought you might have seen it.”

“So, anyway,” Puck broke in, before the conversation could go in another circle. “We’d love to stay and chat, but we’re sort of in a hurry. Can you point us toward the docks?”

The creature’s tongue flicked out, as if tasting the air around Puck. “You’re so bright,” she whispered. “All of you are so bright. Like little suns, you are.” Puck and I shared a glance, and started to back away. “Oh, don’t leave,” the faery pleaded, holding out a withered claw. “Stay. Stay and chat a bit. It’s so cold sometimes. So…cold…” She shivered and, like mist dissolving in the sunlight, faded away. An empty rocking chair, still creaking back and forth, was the only thing left behind.

Puck gave an exaggerated shiver and rubbed his arms. “Okay, that was probably the creepiest thing I’ve seen in a while,” he said with forced cheerfulness. “Who else is for finding this boat and getting the hell outta Dodge?”

“Come on,” the Wolf growled, eager to leave as well. “I can smell the river. This way.” Without waiting for a reply, he turned and padded down the street.

I looked for Grimalkin, not surprised to find he had vanished as well. I hoped that didn’t mean there would be trouble soon. “What do you think she was searching for?” I asked Ariella as we continued through the silent town, following the Wolf’s huge silhouette through the fog. “The creature on the riverbank was looking for something, too. I wonder what they lost that’s so important?”

Ariella shivered, her expression haunted. “Their names,” she said quietly. “I think…they were searching for their names.” She drifted off for a moment, her eyes distant and sad. I felt a twinge of alarm at how much she suddenly resembled the faery in the rocking chair. “I could feel the emptiness inside,” Ariella continued in a near whisper, “the hollow places that consume them. They’re like a hole, an empty spot where you’d expect something to be. That creature in the rocking chair…she was almost gone. I think it was just your and Puck’s glamour that brought her back, if only for a little while.”

Figures were starting to appear through the mist now, strange, unfamiliar creatures with the same dead eyes and empty faces. They stumbled through the town in a daze, as if sleepwalking, barely conscious of their surroundings. Sometimes they would turn to stare at us with blank eyes and detached curiosity, but none made an effort to approach.

A booming roar broke through the muffled silence, and a scuffle ahead in the mist made me draw my sword and hurry over. The Wolf stood, teeth bared and hackles raised, over a figure with tiny hands growing everywhere from its body. The creature’s arms, as well as its dozens of hands, were thrown up to protect it, and it cringed back as the Wolf bared his teeth and went for its throat.

I lunged forward, slamming my shoulder into the Wolf’s head, knocking him aside with a furious yelp. He turned on me with a snarl, and suddenly Puck was there, daggers drawn, standing beside me. Together, we formed a wall between the Wolf and his intended victim, who scurried away on multiple hands and vanished under a building.

The Wolf glared at us, eyes blazing, the hair on his spine standing up. “Move,” he growled, narrowing his eyes. “I’m going to find that thing and rip its head off. Get out of my way.”

“Calm down,” I ordered, keeping my blade between myself and the angry Wolf. “Attack one of them and the whole place might come after us. It’s gone now, so you can’t do anything about it.”

“I’ll kill them all,” the Wolf growled, his voice gone dangerously soft. “I’ll rip every single one of them to bloody shreds. This place isn’t natural. Can’t you feel it? It’s like a starving animal, clawing at us. We should kill every one of them now.”

“I would advise against that,” Grimalkin said, appearing from nowhere. He narrowed his eyes at the Wolf, who stared back murderously. “You would be surprised how many Forgotten exist in this world,” the cat went on. “More than you can imagine, I assure you. And strong emotions like anger and fear will only attract them like ants to honey. So do try to keep your teeth in your jaws without ripping someone’s head off. We might actually make it out of here.”

The Wolf’s baleful glare shifted between me and Grimalkin before he turned away with a snarl, snapping at the air. As he did, I saw the fur on his back and shoulders, normally pitch-black, was streaked with gray, but then he shook himself and the color faded from sight.

“Geez, this place is making even Wolfman twitchy,” Puck said to me in a low voice, watching the Wolf pace back and forth, growling. Beyond him, a crowd was slowly gathering, curious faces emerging from the mist, blank eyes fixed on us. “Let’s find that boat and get out of here before he starts tearing down the walls.”

We followed the muddy street until, at last, it reached the banks of the River of Dreams, still shrouded in white, dark waters lapping softly against the mud. A single wooden dock stretched away until it vanished into the fog, but nothing moved out on the river or through the mists. Everything was overly quiet and still.

“Well, here’s the dock,” Puck said, squinting as he peered through the fog. “But I don’t see a boat. Maybe we have to buy a ticket?”

“You won’t find what you’re looking for standing there,” said a soft voice behind us.

I turned, slower this time, refusing to jump at every creature that popped up out of nowhere. But I still drew my weapon, and I still put a hand on the Wolf’s shoulder to keep him from spinning and biting the speaker’s head off.

At first, I didn’t see anyone behind us. The voice appeared to have come from no one, though there was a long, lean shadow on the ground that seemed attached to nothing.

“Show yourself,” the Wolf growled, curling back his lips. “Before I lose my temper and start tearing out your guts, invisible or not. I can smell you well enough, so you can stop hiding right now.”

“Oh, apologies,” said the voice again, right in front of us. “I keep forgetting….” And, a tall, impossibly thin figure turned out of nowhere, standing in profile so we could see him. He was nearly paper-thin, like the edge of a blade, only visible when viewed from the side. Even in profile he was still impossibly lean and sharp, with gray skin and a striped gray business suit. His fingers, long and spiderlike, waved a greeting, making sure we could see him.

“Better?” he asked, smiling to show thin pointed teeth in a lipless mouth. A name flickered through my mind, keeping just out of reach, before it was gone. “I am the caretaker of this town, the mayor, if you will,” the thin man continued, watching us from the corner of his eyes. “Normally, I am here to greet newcomers and wish them a long and peaceful stay while they wait for the end. But you…” His eyes narrowed, and he tapped the ends of his fingers together. “You are not like the rest of us. Your names have not been forgotten. I am unsure how you even found this place, but it matters not. You do not belong here. You need to leave.”

“We will,” I said as the Wolf’s growls grew louder, more threatening. “We’re just waiting for the ferry. When it comes, we’ll be out of your way.”

The thin man tapped his fingers. “The ferry does not stop here often. Most citizens of Phaed are not even aware of its existence. But, every once in a blue moon, someone will grow tired of searching for something that is clearly not here. They come to the decision that what they seek is beyond Phaed, beyond the river, and they embark on a journey to find what they have lost. Only then does the ferry appear at the end of that pier.” He pointed a long finger toward the dock that vanished into the mist. “The ferry only goes in one direction, and when it comes back around from wherever it has been, it is always empty. No one knows what happens to the passengers that step aboard that ship, but they never come back to Phaed. It’s like they vanish off the edge of the earth.”

“That’s fine,” I told him, ignoring the mock spooky looks Puck was giving me. “We don’t plan to come back, either. When does the ferry appear?”

The thin man shrugged. “Usually a day or two after the decision is made to leave. If you truly wish to wait for it, I suggest you find yourself a place to stay until then. The Wayside Inn is a good choice. Just follow the bank until you see it. It really can’t be missed.”

And with that, he turned, becoming a straight, nearly invisible line, and disappeared.

Ariella sighed, pressing close to me. I felt her shoulder touch mine and resisted the urge to put my arms around her. “Looks like we’re staying here a little while, after all.”

“Only as long as the ferry takes to arrive.” I could feel eyes in the mist and shadows around me, and that strange pull tugged at my insides. “Come on. Let’s find that inn and get out of the street.”

Like the thin man promised, it wasn’t difficult to find the inn, a large, two-story structure on stilts that leaned over the water as if it might topple into the river at any moment. Not surprisingly, it was empty as we walked through the door into a dark, gloomy foyer, the ever-present mist coiling along the floor and around the scattered tables.

“Huh.” Puck’s voice echoed off the walls as we ventured cautiously inside. His boots creaked horribly against the wooden floor as he circled the room. “Helloooooo, room service? Bellboys? Can anyone take my luggage to my suite? Guess this inn is self-serve.”

“The rooms are upstairs,” whispered a voice, and an old woman slithered down from the ceiling. She was more spiderweb than anything, fraying at the edges, though the eyes in the cloudy face were sharp and black. “Five guests? Good, good. You can each choose one. Except for him—” She pointed at the Wolf, who curled a lip at her. “He can take the big room on the end.”

“Good enough,” I said, secretly relieved for the chance to rest. Whether I was still feeling the effects of the hobyah poison or my body was simply reacting to the strain of keeping everyone alive, I was tired, more weary than I had been in a while. I knew the others were feeling it, too. Ariella looked exhausted, and Grimalkin had somehow fallen asleep in her arms, his nose buried under his tail. Even Puck looked worn-out beneath his constant energy, and the Wolf didn’t seem as alert as he normally was, though his temper was definitely wearing thin.

Upstairs, the rooms were small, each containing a table and a single bed beneath a tiny round window. Gazing out, I saw the River of Dreams stretching away beneath me, and the lonely dock in the distance, nearly swallowed up by the mist.

For just a moment, I couldn’t remember why I wanted to go to the dock, though I knew it was important. Shaking my head as memory returned, I sat on the thin mattress, rubbing my eyes. Tired. I was just tired. As soon as the ferry arrived, we could leave this place, and continue toward the edge of the world. And then the Testing Grounds, where I would finally reach the end of my quest. And then my fate would be decided. I’d return to Meghan as a human with a soul, or I wouldn’t return at all. That simple.

Lying back, I put an arm over my face, and everything faded away.

* * *

I WAS KNEELING IN A FIELD of bloody snow, countless bodies of Winter and Summer fey surrounding me.

I was standing before Queen Mab, my sword plunged deep in her chest, her dimming eyes filled with shock.

I was sitting on a throne of ice with my queen beside me, a beautiful faery with long silver hair and eyes of starlight.

I was standing on the field of battle once more, watching my army tear through the enemy forces, feeling a savage glee as they killed and maimed and destroyed without mercy. The darkness in me reveled in the blood, drank in the pain, and spread it as far as it could go. But no matter how much pain I felt, the emptiness swallowed it, demanding more, always more. I was a black hole of death, needing to kill, needing to fill the terrible nothingness that existed inside. I’d become a demon, soulless and without pity, and not even Ariella’s presence could sate the despair that drove me to slaughter everything I had once cared for. Only one thing would stop me, and every death, every life I destroyed, brought me that much closer.

She came for me in the end, as I knew she would. I’d made certain it would be her. The terrible Iron Queen, her eyes filled with fury and sorrow, facing me across the ravaged fields of the Nevernever. The days of her pleading with me, trying to reason with me, were long gone. I didn’t remember why I wanted to see her; I didn’t even remember my own name. But I knew she was the reason for my emptiness. She was the reason for everything.

She’d grown stronger during the long years of the war, infinitely more powerful, a true Queen of Faery. I’d killed so many of her subjects, so many fey had died by my hands, but it was the death of a certain Summer Court jester that finally pushed her over the edge. We faced each other, Iron Queen and Unseelie King, as the cold wind howled around us, and knew that whatever feelings we’d once had for each other didn’t matter now. We’d chosen our paths, and now, one way or another, this war would end. Today, one of us would die.

The Iron Queen raised her sword, the sickly light gleaming down the edges of the steel blade as Iron glamour flared around her, a maelstrom of deadly power. I saw her lips move, a name on them, perhaps mine, and felt nothing. My glamour rose up to meet hers, cold and dangerous, and our powers slammed into each other with the roar of dueling dragons.

Flashes of images, like broken mirror shards, falling to the earth. Iron and ice, clashing against each other. Rage and hate, swirling in vicious, ugly colors around us. Glamour and pain and blood.

Myself, deliberately failing to stop the blow that would kill me. The point of a saber, piercing my chest…

I blinked, and the world slowed. I lay on my back, a dull throbbing in the vicinity of my heart, cold and numb and unable to make my body move. Above me, the Iron Queen’s face filled my vision, beautiful and strong, though her face was streaked with tears. She knelt, smoothing the hair from my forehead, her fingers trailing a line of heat across my skin.

I blinked again, and for just a moment, I was the one kneeling in the dirt, clutching the Iron Queen’s body to my chest, screaming into the wind.

Her fingers lingered on my cheek, and I gazed up at her, my vision starting to go fuzzy and dark. A tear splashed against my skin and in that instant, the old me regretted everything; everything that had brought us here, everything I had done. I tried to speak, to beg forgiveness, to tell her not to remember me like this, but my voice failed me and I couldn’t force the words out.

From the corner of my eye, I sensed another presence, watching us from the shadows. It seemed terribly invasive, until I realized it didn’t belong here, that it was somehow separate from this reality.

Meghan bent down, and though I couldn’t hear her, I saw her lips murmur, “Goodbye, Ash.” Then those lips touched my forehead and the darkness flooded in.