CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

THE RETURN

Puck and I didn’t speak as we walked through the empty, dark corridors of the Testing Grounds together, lost in our own thoughts. I glanced over once and saw him hastily wipe his eyes before quickly turning a corner. The hallways seemed emptier now, the shadows deeper, as we navigated the halls with one less than when we had started out.

Ariella was gone. I didn’t know how she’d done it, accompanying us, helping us, knowing all along that she wasn’t coming back. This was twice I had lost her, twice I’d been forced to watch her die. But at least she had chosen her path this time. She had made her choice long ago, and if Faery brought her back, then surely it would not let her disappear as if she had never existed. A life as bright as hers must linger on somewhere; Ariella Tularyn was far too loved and cherished to simply fade away and be forgotten. It was a small comfort, but I clung to it with my remaining composure and hoped that, wherever she was, whatever state she existed in, she was happy.

Outside, the tall figure of the Guardian waited at the bridge, the stars and the dark, hazy outline of the distant Briars floating behind him.

“This is where we part,” it announced as we joined it at the edge. “Your quest is finished, knight, your journey complete. You will not see me, or the End of the World, ever again. Nor will you remember the path you took to get here. But, as you are the first to earn your soul and survive, I offer you one last gift for the journey home.”

It extended an arm, dropping something small and glittering into my palm. It was a globe of darkened crystal, about the size of an orange, the glass fragile and warm against my skin.

“When you are ready,” the Guardian said, “break the globe, and you will be transported out of Faery, back to the human world. From there, you may do as you wish.”

“Back to the human world?” Puck peered over my shoulder at the glass. “That’s kind of out of the way. Can’t you give us something that will take us to the wyldwood or Arcadia?”

“It does not work that way, Robin Goodfellow,” the Guardian said, speaking to him for perhaps the very first time. “You may choose to return to the wyldwood the way you came, but it is a long way up the River of Dreams, and you will not have the ferry to protect you.”

“It’s all right,” I told Puck, before he could argue. “I can get to the Iron Realm through the mortal world. If…you can open a trod for me, that is.”

Puck glanced at me, understanding in his eyes, and nodded. “Sure, ice-boy. Not a problem.”

“But,” I added, looking at the Guardian, “there’s one more thing we have to check on before we leave. We left a friend behind at the temple when we came here. Is he still there? Can we save him?”

The Guardian straightened. “The Wolf,” it said. “Yes, he is still alive, though his spark has grown weak. He remains trapped beneath the door, and you will have to free him before you can take him to the mortal world with you.”

“You can’t open the door?” Puck asked, scowling.

“The gauntlet was never closed,” the Guardian said flatly. “As long as your friend remains in the door, keeping it open, the gateway is still in effect. The door must seal completely before it can be opened once more.”

“I suggest you hurry,” Grimalkin said, appearing on a floating rock near the edge, watching us disdainfully. “If you insist on helping the dog, do it quickly so that we may go. I, for one, would like to get home sometime this century.”

Home, I thought with a sharp longing in my chest. Yes, it was time to go home. It had been too long. Was Meghan still waiting for me? Or, as she’d suggested in the dream, had she moved on, found happiness with someone else? Would I return only to find her in the arms of another? Or, even worse, as a terrible fey queen like Mab, unmerciful in her power, ruling through fear?

I was afraid, I could admit that. I didn’t know what waited for me at the end of my quest. But despite what I might find, even if Meghan had forgotten me, I would return to her, no matter what.

“Knight,” the Guardian said as we started to cross the bridge. Puck looked back, and I waved him on. He made a face and left us. “Do not discount the gift you have been given,” the Guardian continued in a low voice, as Puck followed Grimalkin over the bridge. “The soul of a Winter fey resides within you. You are no longer part of Faery, but neither are you completely mortal. You are…unique.” The Guardian drew back, the faintest hint of amusement beneath its impassive voice. “We shall have to see where it takes you.”

I bowed to the robed figure and crossed the bridge, feeling ancient eyes on me the whole way. When I reached the other side and turned back, however, the Guardian was gone. The enormous bulk of the Testing Grounds was floating away, growing rapidly smaller and less distinct, until it vanished into the End of the World.

Following Grimalkin down the corridor back to the temple, we reached the heavy stone door of the gauntlet. For a moment, I feared we were too late. The Wolf lay in the doorway, unmoving, his huge head resting on his paws. Bloody foam spattered his mouth and nostrils, his fur was dull and flat and his ribs stood out sharply against his black pelt. Through the opening, the spirits still clawed at him, trying to drag him back into the temple, lost and trapped forever. But even collapsed and apparently lifeless, he was still as unmovable as a mountain.

“Pity,” Grimalkin remarked as we drew close. “Not the end I would imagine for the Big Bad Wolf, crushed under a door, but I suppose he is not invincible after all.”

The Wolf’s eyes opened, blazing green. Seeing us, he gave a feeble cough and raised his head from his paws, staring at me. Blood dripped from his nose and mouth.

“So, you made it after all,” he stated. “I suppose I should congratulate you, but I find I care very little at the moment.” He panted, his eyes flickering between me, Puck and Grim, and pricked his ears. “Where’s the girl?”

Puck looked away, and I took a breath, raking a hand through my hair. “She’s gone.”

The Wolf nodded, unsurprised. “Then, if you wish to leave by this route, I’m sure you can slide under the stone. These spirits are annoying, but they should not pose a problem anymore.”

“What about you?”

The Wolf sighed, resting his head on his paws again. “I have no strength left.” Closing his eyes, he shifted painfully on the rocks. “Nor do you have the strength to move this door. Leave me.”

I clenched my fists. The memory of Ariella’s sacrifice was still a painful burning in my chest. “No,” I said, making the Wolf crack open an eyelid. “I’ve already watched one friend die today. I will not lose another. Puck…” I stepped forward and put my shoulder against the bottom of the slab. “Come on. Help me move this.”

Puck looked dubious, but he stepped up and braced himself against the rock, wincing as he tested it. “Oof, are you sure about this, ice-boy? I mean, you’re human now….”

He trailed off at the look on my face. “Right, then. On three? Hey, Wolfman, you’re gonna help out, too, right?”

“You cannot free me,” the Wolf said, eyeing each of us in turn. “You are not strong enough. Especially if the prince is a mere mortal.”

“How very sad.” Grimalkin strode up, stopping just shy of the Wolf’s muzzle, barely out of snapping range. “That the great dog must rely on a human to save him, because he is too weak to move. I shall sit right here and watch, to remember this day always.”

The Wolf growled, the hair rising along his back. Planting his feet, he braced his shoulders against the slab and tensed, baring his fangs. “Go.”

We pushed. The stone resisted us, stubborn and unmovable. Even with the combined efforts of Puck and the exhausted Wolf, it was too heavy, too massive, for the three of us to move.

“This isn’t working, prince,” Puck said through gritted teeth, his face red from the strain. I ignored him, digging my shoulder into the rocky slab, pushing with all my might. It scraped painfully into my skin, but didn’t move. On instinct, I opened myself up to the glamour around me, forgetting I was only human.

I felt a shiver go through the air, a rush of cold and suddenly, the slab moved. Only a fraction of an inch, but we all felt it. Puck’s eyes widened, and he threw himself against the rock, pushing with all his might, as the Wolf did the same. The spirits shrieked and wailed, clawing at the Wolf as if sensing he was slipping from their grasp. Closing my eyes, I kept myself open to the cold, familiar strength flowing through me and shoved the stone block as hard as I could.

With a final, stubborn groan, the slab gave way at last, rising a mere few inches, but it was enough. The Wolf gave a snarl of triumph and skittered out from beneath it, ripping himself from the grasp of the spirits still clinging to him, leaving them in the doorway. Puck and I jerked back as well, and the door slammed shut with a hollow boom, crushing a few spirits into mist.

Panting, the Wolf staggered to his feet, then gave himself a violent shake, sending fur and dust flying. Glancing at me, he gave a grudging nod.

“For a mortal,” he growled, heaving in great, raspy breaths, “you are remarkably strong. Almost as strong as…” He paused, narrowing his eyes. “Are you sure you received what you came for, little prince? It would be annoying if we came all this way for nothing.” Before I could answer, he sniffed the air, nose twitching. “No, your scent is different. You are different. You do not smell like you did before, but neither do you smell…entirely human.” Flattening his ears, he growled again and stepped back. “What are you?”

“I’m…not really sure myself.”

“Well.” The Wolf shook himself again, seeming to grow a bit more steady on his feet. “Whatever you are, you did not leave me behind, and I will not forget that. If you are in need of a hunter or someone to crush your enemy’s throat, you have only to call. Now…” He sneezed and bared his fangs, glaring around. “Where is that wretched feline?”

Grimalkin, of course, had disappeared. The Wolf snorted in disgust and began to stalk away, but with a shiver and a loud grinding noise, the stone door started to rise.

We tensed, and I dropped a hand to my sword, but the spirits on the other side of the door had disappeared. So had the entire room. Instead, a long, narrow hallway stretched out beyond the frame, empty and dark, fading into the black. The cobwebs lining the walls and the dust on the floor were thick and undisturbed, as if no one had walked this way in centuries.

The Wolf blinked slowly. “Magic and parlor tricks.” He sighed, curling a lip. “I will be glad to be done with it. At least in my territory, things are honest about trying to kill you.” He shook his great, shaggy head and turned to me. “This is where we part ways, prince. Do not forget my part in the story. I might have to hunt you down if you happen to forget, and I have a very long memory.”

“It’s a long way back to the wyldwood,” I told him, pulling out the small glass orb. The swirls of magic within left faint, tingling sensations against my palm as I held it up. “Come with us. We’ll return to the mortal realm, and from there you can easily find a trod to the Nevernever.”

“The mortal world.” The Wolf sniffed and backed up a step. “No, little prince. The human realm is not for me. It is too crowded, too fenced in. I need the vast spaces of the Deep Wyld or I shall quickly suffocate. No, this is where we say goodbye. I wish you luck, though. It was quite the adventure.” The Wolf padded toward the dark, empty hallway, a lean black shadow that seemed to fade into the dark.

“You sure, Wolfman?” Puck called as the Wolf paused in the frame, sniffing the air for any remaining foes. “Like ice-boy said, it’s a long way back to the wyldwood. You sure you don’t want a faster way home?”

The Wolf looked back at us and chuckled, flashing a toothy grin. “I am home,” he said simply, and bounded through the door, melting into shadow. His eerie howl rose into the air, as the Big Bad Wolf vanished from our lives and returned to legend.

Grimalkin appeared almost immediately after the Wolf had gone, licking his paws as if nothing had happened. “So,” he mused, regarding me with golden, half-lidded eyes, “are we returning to the mortal realm or not?”

I raised the globe but then lowered it, gazing at the cait sith, who stared back calmly. “Did you know?” I asked in a low voice, and the cat blinked. “Did you know the reason Ariella was here? Why she came along?” Grimalkin turned to groom his tail, and my voice hardened. “You knew she was going to die.”

“She was already dead, prince.” Grimalkin paused and looked back at me, narrowing his eyes. “She perished the day you swore your oath against Goodfellow. Faery brought her back, but she always knew how it would end.”

“You could have told us,” Puck chimed in, his voice flat and strangely subdued.

Grimalkin sneezed and sat up to face me, his golden eyes knowing. “If I had, would you have let her go?”

Neither of us answered, and the cat nodded at our silence. “We are wasting time,” he continued, waving his tail as he stood. “Let us return to the mortal world so that we may be done with this. Grieve for your loss, but be grateful for the time that you had. She would have wanted it that way.” He sniffed and lashed his tail. “Now, are you going to use that globe, or should I wish for wings to fly back to the wyldwood?”

I sighed and raised the glass, watching the magic swirl within. Taking it in both hands, I gazed past it to the End of the World, at the brilliant void that never ceased to amaze. With a deep breath, I brought my hands together and crushed the glass between them, releasing the magic into the air. It expanded outward in a burst of light, engulfing us, and for a moment everything went completely white.

* * *

THE LIGHT FADED, and the sounds of the human world began: car engines and street traffic, honking horns and the shuffle of feet over pavement. I blinked and gazed around, trying to get my bearings. We were in a narrow alleyway between two large buildings, overflowing Dumpsters and heaps of trash lining the walls. A ragged lump in a cardboard box stirred, mumbled sleepily, and turned its back on us, frightening a large rat that went scurrying over the wall.

“Oh, of course.” Puck wrinkled his nose, stepping back from a pile of rags crawling with maggots. “With all the meadows and forests and big swaths of wilderness that I know still exist in the human world, where do we end up? A filthy, rat-infested alleyway. That’s just great.”

Grimalkin leaped atop a Dumpster, looking surprisingly natural in the urban environment, like a large alley cat prowling the streets. “There is a trod not far from here,” he stated calmly, picking his way across the rim. “If we hurry, we should reach it before nightfall. Follow me.”

“Wait, you already know where you are?” Puck demanded as we edged toward the mouth of the alley, stepping over trash and piles of debris. “How does that work, cat?”

“Most cities are very much the same, Goodfellow.” Grimalkin reached the edge of the sidewalk and peered back, waving his tail. “Trods are everywhere, if you know where to look. Also, I am a cat.” And he trotted off down the street.

“Hold it, ice-boy,” Puck said as I started to follow. “You’re forgetting something.” He pointed to my sword, hanging at my side. “Normal humans don’t walk around city streets with big, pointy weapons. Or if they do, they tend to draw unwanted attention. Better give it to me for now. At least until we reach the wyldwood.”

I hesitated, and Puck rolled his eyes. “I swear I’m not going to lose it, or drop it in the gutter, or give it to a homeless guy. Come on, Ash. This is part of being human. You have to blend in.”

I handed the belt and sheath over reluctantly, and Puck looped it around one shoulder. “There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“If you lose that…”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll kill me. Old news, ice-boy.” Puck shook his head and motioned me forward. “After you.”

We emerged from the alleyway onto a sidewalk bustling with people, rushing by with barely a glance. Overhead, huge towers of glass and steel loomed against the sky, flashing in the evening sun. Cars honked and slid through the streams of traffic like giant metal fish, and the smell of asphalt, smoke, and exhaust fumes hung thick on the air.

The changes were subtle, but I could still see a difference. The world wasn’t quite as sharp as it had been. Edges were dull, colors not quite so bright anymore. Sounds were muted; the murmur of voices around me had merged into a babble of human noise, and I could no longer pick out conversations just by listening to them.

I took a step forward, and someone ran into me, knocking me back a pace. “Watch where you’re going, jackass,” the human snapped, shooting me a glare without breaking stride. I blinked and joined the flow of street traffic, following Grimalkin as he expertly wove his way through the multitude of feet and swinging legs. No one seemed to notice him, or Puck, walking right beside me, glamoured and invisible. Even on a crowded sidewalk, they swerved around him or stepped out of his way, often at the last second, without even knowing there was a faery in their midst. But I caught several glances—curious, appreciative, or challenging—as I maneuvered my way through the crowd, jostling and bumping into me. It was a good thing Puck still had my sword; otherwise I might’ve been tempted to draw it to get them all out of my way.

As I swerved out of the path of yet another human, I brushed against a wrought-iron fence encircling the base of a small tree on the edge of the sidewalk and instinctively recoiled, jerking back from the metal. But the weakness and pain of being so close to iron didn’t come, though I did earn a few strange looks from various passersby. Cautiously, I reached out and touched the fence, ready to yank my hand back as centuries of fey survival screamed at me to stop. But the iron, once akin, for me, to touching live coals while being violently ill, was cold and harmless beneath my fingers. I looked up the street at the long line of trees similarly encased in iron, and grinned.

“Will you stop doing that?” Puck hissed a moment later, shuddering as I trailed my fingers along every fence that we passed. “You’re freaking me out. I get chills every time we pass one of those things.”

I laughed but moved away from the fences and the iron, back to the center of the walk where traffic was thickest. Now that I knew they wouldn’t just swerve around me, it was easier to dodge and weave through the unending masses. “Does this mean I can put a fence around my yard and you’ll leave me alone?” I asked, grinning back at Puck. He snorted.

“Don’t get cocky, ice-boy. I’ve been playing with humans since long before you ever thought of becoming one.”

The crowds thinned as it got later, and Grimalkin led us farther downtown. Streetlights flickered to life, and the buildings lining the streets grew more run-down and shabby. Broken windows and graffiti were commonplace, and I could sense eyes on me from shadows and dark corridors.

“That’s a fancy jacket, boy.”

I stopped as four humans melted out of an alley, wearing hoodies and bandannas, sidling up to block my path. The biggest, a mean-looking thug with a shaved head covered in tattoos, sauntered forward, leering at me. I gave him and his companions a quick once-over, searching for horns or claws or sharp, pointed teeth. Nothing. Not half-breeds, then. Not exiles from the Nevernever, scraping out a living in the mortal world. They were human through and through.

“My boy Rico here. He was just thinking that he needed a fancy coat like that one.” The thug leader smiled, showing off a gold tooth. “So, why don’t you hand it over, boy? That, and leave your wallet on the ground, too. Wouldn’t want to have to bash your pretty head in, now, would we?”

Beside me, Puck sighed, shaking his head. “Not terribly bright, are they?” he asked, gazing at the leader, who paid him no attention. Stepping away, he slipped around behind them, grinning and cracking his knuckles. “I guess we have time for one last massacre. For old time’s sake.”

“Hey, you deaf, punk?” The thug leader shoved me, and I took a step back. “Or are you so scared you pissed your pants?” The others snickered and drew forward, surrounding me like hungry dogs. I didn’t move. There was a flash of metal, and the leader brandished a knife, holding it before my face. “I’ll ask nicely one last time. Gimme that coat, or I’m gonna start feeding you your fingers.”

I met his eyes. “We don’t have to do this,” I told him softly. Behind them, Puck smiled wickedly, tensing his muscles. “You can still walk away. In eight seconds, you’re not going to be able to.”

He raised an eyebrow, ran a tongue over his teeth. “Fine,” he nodded. “We’ll do this the hard way.” And he slashed at my face.

I jerked back, letting the blade whiz by my cheek, then stepped forward and slammed a fist into the leader’s nose, feeling it break under my fingers. He reeled back with a shriek, and I whirled toward the second thug, who was lunging at me from the side.

Time seemed to slow. In my peripheral vision, I saw Puck loom up behind the two remaining thugs and knock their heads together, dropping his glamour as they staggered and turned around. His mocking laughter rang out over the howls and curses of his opponents. I dodged the knife of my second foe and kicked him in the knee, hearing it snap as he crashed to the ground.

The thug leader was still bent over, holding his nose. Suddenly he circled, dropping the knife, reaching for something at the small of his back. I lunged forward as he brought up the gun, a dull black pistol, catching the inside of his wrist just as a roar of gunfire nearly deafened me. A twist, a snap, and the thug screamed, the deadly weapon clattering to the ground. Slamming him into a wall, I put my arm to his throat and shoved hard, seeing his eyes widen and his mouth gape for air. My adrenaline was up; my ears rang from the gunfire, and the sudden brush with death made my soul cry out for blood. This human had tried to kill me. He deserved no less himself. I leaned harder against his throat, intending to crush his windpipe, watching as his face turned blue and his eyes started to roll up in his head….

And then, I stopped.

I wasn’t fey any longer. I was no longer Ash, prince of the Unseelie Court, ruthless and unmerciful. If I killed this human, I would only be adding his death to my long list of sins, only this time, I had a soul that could be tainted by needless killing and bloodshed.

Releasing the pressure on the thug’s neck, I stepped back and let him slump, gasping, to the cement. A quick glance in Puck’s direction showed the red-haired fey surrounded by two moaning humans, cradling their heads, while Puck looked on smugly. Satisfied, I turned back to the leader. “Get out of here,” I said quietly. “Go home. If I see you again, I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

Cradling his broken wrist, the thug fled, his three companions limping after him. I watched them until they disappeared around a corner, then turned back to Puck.

He grinned, rubbing a hand over his knuckles. “Well, that was fun. Nothing like a good bare-fisted, knock-down, drag-out brawl to get the blood pumping. Though I will admit, I thought you were gonna kill the guy after he shot at you. You feeling all right, ice-boy?”

“I’m fine.” I looked at my hands, still feeling the human’s blood pumping under my fingers, knowing I could’ve ended his life, and smiled. “Never better.”

“Then, if you two are quite finished starting random brawls in the middle of the street—” Grimalkin appeared on the hood of a car, staring at us reproachfully. “Perhaps we can move on.”

He led us down another long alley, until we came to a faded red door in the bricks. Beside the door, a sign on a barred, grimy window read, Rudy’s Pawn Shop. Guns. Gold. Other. A brass bell tinkled as we pushed our way inside, revealing a tiny shop crammed floor to ceiling with junk. Stereos sat on dusty shelves next to racks of televisions, car radios and speakers. One whole wall was dedicated to guns, protected by high counters and a blinking security camera. Racks of video games were displayed prominently, and a glass case near the front sparkled with a fortune’s worth of gold: necklaces, rings, and belt buckles.

A lone, pudgy figure was leaning against the glass case, playing solitaire and looking bored, but he glanced up when we came in. Pale ram’s horns curled back from the sides of his head, and his arms, gathering up the cards, were exceptionally shaggy. For a human, anyway, but not for a satyr. Or a half satyr, I realized as we drew closer. He wore a stained T-shirt and tan shorts, and his skinny legs, though hairy, were decidedly human.

“Be right with ya,” he grunted as we approached the counter. “Just gimme a second to—” He stopped, really looking at us. Puck grinned at him, and he paled, breathing out an expletive. “Oh. Oh, sorry your…ah…your royalness? I didn’t realize…I don’t get many full-bloods through here. I mean…” He swallowed, going even paler as Puck continued to smile at him, obviously enjoying himself. “What can I do for you today, sir?”

“Hello, Rudy.” Grimalkin leaped onto the counter, and the half satyr yelped, stumbling back. “I see you are still limping along with this fire hazard you call a store.”

“Oh, wonderful.” Rudy gave the cat a sour look, grabbing a cloth from below and wiping the countertop. “Look who’s here. Back to plague me again, are you? You know that information you traded nearly got me killed?”

“You wanted the location of the giant ruins. I gave it to you. My end of the bargain was upheld.”

“I thought they were deserted! You didn’t say they were still occupied.”

“You did not ask if they were.”

While they were talking, I took the moment to look around the store, fascinated by all the mortal items hanging on racks and from the shelves. I knew what they were, of course, but this was the first time I could really touch them without fearing the burn of metal. Wandering behind the weapons counter, I gazed at all the different guns and firearms lining the walls. So many different types. There was so much I didn’t know about the mortal world. I would have to remedy that soon.

Grimalkin sniffed, his voice drifting back from the counter. “If one is going to go traipsing around ancient giant ruins hunting for treasure, one should first make sure they are abandoned. In any case, it matters not. I believe we still have unfinished business.”

“Fine.” Rudy waved his arm dismissively. “Fine, let’s get it over with. I assume you want something from the back, is that it? Hey!” he yelped suddenly, as I grabbed a pistol from the rack of guns, the same kind that had been fired at me before. “Careful with that! Geez, since when can faeries handle guns, anyway?”

“Ice-boy.” Puck grimaced at me, looking nervous. “Come on. Let’s not freak out the nice gun dealer. We’re almost home.”

I replaced the gun and walked back to the front, where Rudy eyed me suspiciously. “Uh, right. So, you need something from the ‘special room,’ is that it? I’ve got monkey paws and hydra poison and a pair of cockatrice eggs came in yesterday—”

“Spare us your dealings with the goblin market,” Grimalkin interrupted. “We need to use the door to the wyldwood.”

“Door?” Rudy swallowed, looking at each of us in turn. “I, uh, don’t know of any door.”

“Liar,” Grimalkin stated, narrowing his eyes. “Do not seek to deceive us, half-breed. Who do you think you are speaking to?”

“It’s just…” Rudy lowered his voice. “I’m not supposed to have direct access to the Nevernever,” he admitted. “You know how the courts are. If they find out that a stinkin’ half-breed owns a trod, they’ll turn me into a goat and feed me to the redcaps.”

“You owe me,” Grimalkin said bluntly. “I am collecting that debt now. Either give us access to the trod, or I will turn Robin Goodfellow loose in your store and then we will see how much of it is left to protect.”

“Goodfellow?” Rudy’s face turned the color of old glue. He glanced at Puck, who grinned and waved cheerfully. “S-sure,” he whispered, moving away from the counter in a daze. “Follow me.”

He unlocked a door and led us into an even smaller, more crowded room. Here, the merchandise lining the walls and piled in corners was even stranger than the stock outside, but more familiar to me. Basilisk fangs and wyvern stingers. Glowing potions and toadstools of every color. A huge tome of puckered flesh rested beneath a headdress made of griffin feathers. Rudy maneuvered through the clutter, kicking things out of the way, until he came to the back wall and pushed back a curtain. A simple wooden door stood on the other side.

“Open it,” Grimalkin ordered.

Sighing, Rudy unlocked the door and pushed it open. A cold breeze, smelling of earth and crushed leaves, fluttered into the small room, and the gray, murky expanse of the wyldwood came into view through the frame.

Puck blew out a long breath. “There she is.” He sighed, sounding wistful. “Never thought I’d be so happy to see her again.”

Grimalkin was already through the door, tail held straight up as he vanished into the mist. “Hey,” Rudy called, frowning through the doorway. “No more favors, okay, cat? We’re even now, right?” He sighed and eyed us as we started to follow. “I, uh, I’d appreciate it if this didn’t get out, your highnesses. Seeing as I helped you and all…uh…” He trailed off as Puck gave him an appraising look in the door. “That is, if it’s okay with you.”

“I don’t know.” Puck frowned and crossed his arms. “Didn’t you hear Oberon saying something about a certain pawnshop, ice-boy? And redcaps? Or was that something else?”

Rudy looked faint, until Puck slapped him on the shoulder with a laugh, making him jump three feet in the air. “You’re a good guy.” He grinned, walking backward through the frame. “I might come back to visit someday. Hurry up, prince.”

“Prince?” The half satyr blinked as I stepped forward. “Robin Goodfellow and a prince, come to my shop?” He stared hard at me, then his eyebrows shot up as something clicked into place. “Then…you must be…are you Prince Ash?”

The wyldwood breeze was cool against my face. I paused in the doorway and glanced over my shoulder, giving my head a small shake.

“No,” I told him, and walked through the door. “I’m not.”