OLD FRIENDS, OLD ENEMIES
The knight didn’t take us all the way to the throne room. Once we were past the enormous courtyard, up the flight of stone steps, and through the massive double doors, a small, squat faery waited for us in the main foyer.
He wore a pair of gold-rimmed glasses on his wrinkled nose and carried an enormous pile of junk on his back. Kitchen utensils, broken appliances, several clocks, and a few shattered phones all balanced precariously between his hunched shoulders. He was a packrat and, like his name implied, hoarded all kinds of junk that, somehow, he was able to carry on his back. The larger the junk pile, the more respected the packrat. By other packrats, anyway. This one had a truly impressive hoard, reaching past the top of my head. In fact, I was pretty sure it was bigger than when I’d seen him last.
“Robin Goodfellow,” the packrat wheezed, waddling forward. His enormous junk pile swayed and clanked as he walked, and from the corner of my eye I saw Nyx watching it dubiously, ready to leap back should it topple. “You have finally arrived.”
I grinned. “Hey, Fix. I didn’t know Meghan was expecting me. I’m guessing socket-head let her know I was coming?”
“I am not privy to the decisions of the first lieutenant,” Fix replied, ignoring the rather casual nickname for the commander of the Iron Queen’s army. “Nor do I question the ways of my queen. I am certain you can ask her yourself. Now then...” He paused, squinting up at me with bleary eyes.
I crossed my arms, waiting for him to say something about the pair of protuberances that hadn’t been there before.
The packrat hesitated, then took off his glasses, polished them with a rag, and stuck them back on his face with a sniff. “If you would kindly introduce me to your companions,” he said, as I got the impression that the glasses were purely for show. “I must at least know their names so that I can announce them to the queen before going in.”
Nyx bowed, formal and graceful, even in her condition. “I am called Nyx,” she said, as the packrat turned his beady gaze on her. “I am here as a messenger from His Majesty Keirran, King of the Forgotten.”
Fix sobered immediately at the name. “Keirran,” he repeated, almost a whisper. For a moment, he looked wistful, almost sad, before shaking himself and glancing up at Nyx again. “Well met, Nyx of the Forgotten,” he said formally. “Tell me, how is our former prince these days?”
“Keirran is a fair and just king,” Nyx replied, and she was being completely honest. “He puts the safety of the Forgotten before anything else. He misses the Nevernever, but he doesn’t let that stand in the way of his duty.”
“I see,” the packrat murmured. “Well, I am sure the queen will be happy to hear it. And what of you?” he went on, gazing up, and up, at the hulking Coaleater behind me. “You are one of the Iron herd, am I correct? From the Obsidian Plains. You have come far... Do you also wish an audience with the queen?”
“I do,” the huge Iron faery replied, and put a fist over his heart with a clank. “I am Coaleater, second in command of the Iron herd. I am here at the request of our leader, Spikerail. There is something the Iron Queen must be made aware of.”
Fix bobbed his head. “Of course. Any of the Iron herd is welcome here. Well, then...” He stepped back, beaming placidly at us all. “If you would follow me. The Iron Queen is waiting for you.”
The Iron Palace had always amazed me. It was like taking a medieval castle from King Arthur days, dropping it into a blender with an H. G. Wells novel, and hitting Puree. The ancient and the modern intertwined seamlessly throughout the halls and corridors of the palace, with more than a few hints of Victorian steampunk scattered throughout, just like the city. Gears, cogs, and wires were common decorations, and the corridors were filled with a soft but constant ticking. Sometimes gothic stone passages gave way to giant arched windows where the sun streamed through the glass, but then we would turn a corner to see a pair of ivy-covered statues sitting under a streetlamp.
Bizarre was a good word for the Iron Palace, and that was coming from yours truly; I practically invented the word. Iron fey roamed the halls and corridors of the queen’s castle, seeming perfectly at home here, more than any other place in the Nevernever: Iron knights, clockwork hounds, hacker elves, cog dwarves, and the ever-present gremlins, trailing us down the hallways like cackling, bat-eared spiders. Even the massive Coaleater looked almost normal against the backdrop of the palace, blending into the surroundings like he’d been born here.
Nyx and I definitely stood out.
I had been to the palace a few times before, so for the most part, the Iron fey knew me. Still, the amount of stares I was receiving was disquieting. Maybe it was the horns. Or maybe it was the cloaked Forgotten walking beside me and making no more noise than a shadow. In any case, it was a little unnerving. When a faery with the body of a metallic centipede stares at you in abject fear and then goes scurrying around a corner, that’s kind of a hard pill to swallow.
“Here we are,” Fix announced at last, coming to a stop before a pair of double doors. Not the throne room, I noted, which would be full of Iron fey all demanding the queen’s attention. This was probably a private meeting room, as indicated by the pair of Iron knights standing guard at the entrance. They nodded to Fix, then reached out and opened each of the doors, granting us access to whatever lay beyond.
Fix smiled at us and waddled through the doors. We followed him into a bright, well-lit room with glass doors that led to a marble balcony and a stunning view of the courtyard below. The doors were open, and a figure could be seen at the railing with her back to us, gazing out over the palace grounds.
Her long, silver-blond hair rippled behind her, held back by the thin iron circlet atop her skull. Per usual she was dressed in modern, human clothes, though over the years I’d noticed she had abandoned the faded jeans and T-shirt look for something a bit less casual and more businesslike. At least in public. You’d never catch her in a gown outside of Elysium, but the scruffy, awkward teenager who’d claimed she would rather be comfortable than popular had vanished, and the Iron Queen was all that remained.
“Your Majesty,” Fix announced as we stepped through the frame, the guards pulling the doors shut behind us. “Robin Goodfellow and his companions, Nyx of the Forgotten and Coaleater of the Iron herd, have arrived.”
The figure on the balcony turned, and my stupid traitor heart still gave a weird little flutter whenever I saw my former princess.
Meghan Chase, the Iron Queen, met my gaze through the balcony doors and broke into a relieved, genuine smile. Without hesitation, she strode forward, stepped into the room, and threw her arms around me in a hug.
Standard greeting, really. And one that had made my heart soar whenever it happened. But this time, something sour flared to life at her touch. I remembered, suddenly, the image of her turning away, of following another through the portal to the human world and leaving me behind. A kiss, shared in a secret bedroom, that meant the world to me and nothing to her. The agonized confession that she did love me, just not as much as him.
All those memories flickered through my head like a strobe light, and in the next blink, they were gone. It happened so quickly, I didn’t know what to think. Or feel. Though I could sense the stunned gazes of both Nyx and Coaleater at my back, their eyes wide and staring. A queen hugging a jester was definitely something they did not see every day.
“Hey, princess,” I whispered, as I always did. “Did you miss me?”
“Puck.” Meghan pulled back, gripping my upper arms. Her sapphire-blue gaze was intense, which made my instincts bristle a warning. This definitely wasn’t normal. “Keirran,” she asked, her voice threaded with worry. “What happened? Is he all right?”
I relaxed, though at the same time, that strange bitterness trickled through my thoughts. Of course, Meghan would want to know about Keirran; he was her kid, after all, and just like she had been. Stubborn, defiant, with no concept of self-preservation.
I smirked. “He’s fine, Meghan. Last I saw, he was blasting a big bad with enough glamour to shred a cement truck.”
Meghan relaxed. She seemed about to say something else, when her gaze suddenly went to my forehead, and her eyes widened. “Puck,” she whispered, as her hand rose to my hair. “What...?”
“Ah, right.” I took a step back, wincing a little. “These things. Well, that’s part of what we came to discuss. Well, this and the big ugly that caused it. So, did Glitch already tell you we were coming?” I went on, changing the subject as Meghan’s worried gaze lingered on my forehead. “Keirran sent us here with a message to warn you about this nasty new threat that’s popped up, but you already seem in the loop.”
“My doing,” sighed a familiar voice, as a large gray cat sauntered in from the balcony, his tail held up behind him. “You certainly took your sweet time getting here,” Grimalkin said, hopping lightly onto a table and regarding us with disdainful cat eyes. “I had already been to Arcadia to warn Oberon before making my way to the Iron Realm. I thought you would be here already and have warned the queen, but apparently, my expectations were too high, again.”
“Grimalkin was telling me about the creature you saw in the Between,” Meghan went on, as the cat gave a yawn and began washing a front paw. I wondered what he would do if his fur suddenly burst into flame. “He said that it seemed immune to glamour, and that it could change faeries into monsters just by touching them. Do you know anything more about that, Puck?”
“If I may, Your Majesty.” Nyx stepped forward, bowing deeply as Meghan turned to her. “Keirran and I have hunted this creature before. We first encountered it in the Between, though later it moved into Phaed and eventually fled to the Nevernever itself. I believe it came here for a specific reason. When we were battling the creature, none of us could really hurt it. It might have killed us had we kept fighting, but as soon as the way into the Nevernever opened, it abandoned the fight to cross the River of Dreams into Faery. As to why it’s here...” Nyx offered an apologetic shrug. “That I cannot tell you.”
“You are Forgotten,” Meghan said, and Nyx gave a single nod. “How is it you look different from the rest of them?”
“I was not present during the last war, Your Majesty,” Nyx replied. “I did not partake in the method used to change them into what they are today. I have been returned to the Nevernever only recently. As I once served the Lady, I now serve the Forgotten King. He is the one who sent me to warn you about this creature.”
“Grimalkin has told me a little,” the Iron Queen said, sounding thoughtful. “But even he cannot say what it is, or why it’s here in the Nevernever. But you all seem to agree on one thing—it’s a threat to everyone it comes across.” She looked up at me, that worried look going through her eyes once more. “Puck, are you sure you’re all right? This curse or condition or whatever it is... It’s not hurting you, is it?”
Only my sanity a little. “What, this?” I pointed to my forehead and smirked. “Don’t worry about me, princess. I’m just a little horny.”
She frowned, unamused, and Nyx rolled her eyes. I knew the situation was serious, but I suddenly felt very immature.
“Oh, and check this out,” I announced, pulling up my pant leg, where a cloven hoof could be seen beneath the cuff. “Horny and shaggy. Like your favorite taxidermy.”
“Let’s hope you don’t end up on someone’s wall,” said a deep voice behind us. Like the echo of a dream, one that was eerily familiar. I knew that voice instantly.
And something inside me snapped.
Rage flooded me, like a smoldering geyser or volcano that finally burst into eruption. Images flashed through my head, memories and emotions long buried, springing to life again. I remembered a dream with his voice, cold and full of hate, saying Meghan never loved me, that it was my fault that Ariella had died, that the world would be better if I was gone. I remembered the endless fighting, those years when we almost killed each other, the anger and resentment that cut deeper than any sword. All of that came bubbling to the surface, hot and volatile, spilling poison into my veins.
And suddenly, I wanted to hurt him. Not just hurt him—stabbing him with my daggers would be too quick. Besides, Ash had been poked, speared, impaled, slashed, kicked, clawed, and cut open enough times that such injuries were almost commonplace now. No, I wanted to make him suffer, as only Robin Goodfellow could. To devise a prank so devious and hilarious, ice-boy would feel it for years, and all the Nevernever would never let him forget.
In that moment, I felt Puck truly die, as Robin Goodfellow of the woods rose up and took his place.
I smiled broadly as I turned to face the owner of the voice. Ash. Ice-boy. Son of Mab. Former prince of the Unseelie Court. Lots of names, but they all belonged to my greatest friend, and greatest rival, in all of Faery. He swept through the doorway in his long black coat, icy blade glittering blue at his side. Like his broody kid, he was dressed in stark black, from his shirt to his pants to his boots, but his dark hair and silver eyes gave him a dangerous edge that even Keirran could not match. I saw Coaleater take a step back and Nyx staring at him with a mix of curiosity and wary awe. I snorted under my breath. Ice-boy did have that effect on pretty much everyone. After the kings and queens, he was one of the strongest faeries in the entire Nevernever, and he had that presence that turned people into slack-jawed zombies for a moment or two.
Except me. I was pretty much immune to the ice-boy effect. In fact, I’d made it my personal vendetta to get under his icy cold skin as much as possible, just to remind him that his natural awe didn’t work on everyone.
“Well, look who decided to join the party,” I drawled as Ash strode to Meghan’s side. Anger and resentment still simmered, but I tamped them down. Now was not the time for a Goodfellow prank, not in the middle of the Iron Palace, surrounded by Iron knights, with the Iron Queen in the very same room. The best laid pranks always took a little time. “Always appearing at the most dramatic moment, ice-boy. Tell me, were you just lurking outside the door waiting for the perfect setup?”
“If I was, any discussion about mounting your head on a wall would certainly get my attention.” Ash stopped just a bit shy of Meghan, giving her a brief, genuine smile before turning to the rest of us. His silvery gaze went to my horns and narrowed. “It seems I’ve missed a few developments,” he went on, and the flicker of worry that crossed his face was lost to everyone but me. “Would you like to fill me in, Goodfellow? Is this a curse, an evil potion, or something else entirely?”
I smirked. Ash didn’t know the original Robin Goodfellow, not really. He hadn’t been around back then, though his two brothers had been. Maybe he’d heard the stories, but he’d never asked me about the time before we met. Too bad for him. He really should have paid attention.
“The short version?” I shrugged. “Some big nasty monster showed up in the Between, kicked our butts to the curb, gave me a few new appendages, and took a swan dive into the River of Dreams. Oh, and it’s in the Nevernever now, by the way. No idea where, exactly. But it’s here.”
“That’s why Keirran sent us,” Nyx broke in as Ash frowned. “We can’t seem to kill it ourselves. We were hoping you would be able to help us track this monster down and end the threat it represents to everything.”
Meghan nodded gravely. “Grimalkin was saying the same,” she mused, and looked at Ash. “This is definitely something we should look into. The realm is stable enough right now... I’ll send for Glitch and bring him back to the capital to keep an eye on things while we’re away.”
“I can go with them, if you want,” Ash suggested. “If you’re worried about leaving the kingdom, you don’t have to do this. Puck and I can probably track this thing down and put an end to it.”
Just the two of us, ice-boy? I bit down an evil grin. I think I would like that, though it wouldn’t go so well for you. What kind of bizarre accidents would happen to you while we’re tracking this thing down, I wonder?
But Meghan shook her head. “No, Keirran sent them to us for a reason. Besides, I want to see this thing for myself. I don’t like the idea of some creature rampaging through the Nevernever, turning my closest friends...um...” She hesitated.
“Horny?” I supplied, and grinned when Ash shot me a look. “Yeah, that’s not ever gonna get old. Don’t worry about me, princess. I’m fine, just gotta be careful on polished floors. What we do have to worry about is where this big bastard is. ’Cause I have no idea where it disappeared to when it crossed the River of Dreams. It could be anywhere by now, turning the local rabbits into vicious horned dinosaur bunnies.”
“Not to mention,” came Grimalkin’s slow, superior voice, “none of you have any idea of what this creature is. And as you saw in Phaed, if you do not know what it is, you will not know how to defeat it. Rushing headlong into a battle without any sort of preparation is doomed to failure.”
I crossed my arms. “You got a better idea, Furball?”
“Indeed.” Grimalkin raised a hind leg and gave it three excruciatingly slow licks before he deigned to answer. “There is one who might know the identity of this creature,” he said. “One whose visions, on occasion, have shown her the future, the past, and everything in between. She knows much about the Nevernever, more than she wishes to at times. She would be the one to help you decipher this new threat to Faery.”
“Another oracle?” Meghan frowned. Her confusion was understandable. The original oracle, an ancient faery who could see into the future, had recently been killed by the Forgotten in the last war. “I didn’t realize there was more than one.”
“There is not,” Grimalkin answered, confusing me now as well. “When one oracle dies, another is reborn into Faery not long after the first one’s death. Or, should I say, her visions and the memories of them are reborn into another. Her name is different, as she is a different person, but she retains the memories of all the oracles before her. I believe this new oracle will have insight into the beast we are hunting.”
“A new oracle,” Meghan breathed. “I had no idea. Where can we find her, Grim?”
“Currently, I believe the new oracle is residing somewhere in the wyldwood.”
“Oh, well, it’ll be easy to find her, then,” I broke in. “’Cause nothing lost in the wyldwood stays lost. Oh wait...”
The cat’s ears flattened to his skull, but he ignored me. “I suppose I can lead you to where the new oracle is staying,” he told Meghan. “If I do not, I have little hope you will ever find it on your own.” He thumped his tail against the table surface. “But there will be a favor due for this, Iron Queen. I have already been across the Between, Phaed, Arcadia, and the Iron Realm. If I am to go gallivanting across the Nevernever with you and the rest of this circus once more, I expect to be properly compensated.”
“I wouldn’t expect any less, Grim,” Meghan replied, and the cat yawned.
“Very well,” he sighed. “I suppose as I am the only competent guide here, I will endeavor to show you the way to the oracle. When do you wish to leave?”
Meghan and Ash shared a glance. “Soon,” Ash said. “Tonight. We’ll need to make some arrangements, get some things in order within the palace, and then we’ll be ready to go.”
“Yes,” Meghan agreed. “This sounds important. I don’t want to put it off any longer than we have to. Puck...” Her blue eyes found mine. “Will you be ready to go tonight?”
“You know me. I was born ready, princess.”
A sudden grinding sound filled the air, like hundreds of rocks being scraped against knives. At first I thought something in the room had malfunctioned, until I realized it was Coaleater, clearing his throat.
“Forgive me, Your Highness,” the huge Iron faery rumbled, making me blink in surprise. For as large and imposing as he was, I’d completely forgotten he was in the room with us. “But I have traveled far from the Obsidian Plains at the behest of our leader, Spikerail. Will you hear what I have come to say? I can wait, if that is what you wish.”
“Coaleater.” Meghan shook her head, as if annoyed with herself. “Of course. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you wanted an audience. Any of the Iron herd is welcome here; you have my full attention.”
The Iron faery bowed. “You have our gratitude, Iron Queen.” Rising, he paused to collect himself, then continued in a straightforward voice. “Your Majesty, we of the Iron herd have noticed a change in the Obsidian Plains. We have always been the guardians of our territory, protecting the land around the magma pools, and recently we have felt...the only way to describe it is an unsoundness, deep in the earth. The creatures who call the plains their home have also felt it, and we have noticed some of them becoming restless and agitated, when before they have always been peaceful. It is deeply concerning, so much so that Spikerail made the decision to bring this to the Iron Queen’s attention. But now, as I hear the report that Goodfellow and his companion gave, I cannot help but wonder if they are connected.
“I would not presume anything,” the Iron faery went on, “but I wish to join you on this quest, Your Majesty. If anything, I can take what I’ve learned back to the herd. Spikerail will certainly be interested in this. And of course, I would protect you and your companions with my life. This is the Iron herd’s promise.”
Meghan considered, her brow creased in a slight frown. “I was unaware there was trouble in the Obsidian Plains,” she murmured. “That is disturbing news. When we are done here, I will have to pay a visit to Spikerail and see if there is anything that can be done.” She pondered a moment more, then glanced at the waiting Iron horse. “You are welcome to join us, Coaleater,” she said. “I will not force you. This quest could be dangerous. But I would welcome your strength, if you wish to come along.”
“Nothing would bring me greater honor, Your Majesty,” Coaleater said with a decisive nod. “I will not disappoint you. I happily serve the queen and the realm, as Ironhorse did before me.”
Throughout all this, Nyx had remained silent, drawn deep into her hood. Now, as Coaleater made his announcement, she raised her head, her skin pale in the bright sunlight streaming through the glass. A strange look crossed her face, confusion and fear...before she flickered out like a snuffed candle.
Alarm jolted my entire insides, but before I could say anything, she reappeared in a blink, though the expression in her eyes was now one of weary resignation, as if she knew what was happening.
The Fade was taking her. Right in front of me.