Iron's Prophecy (3 page)

“But…” He sighed, looking out the window again. “There are
some
things that I miss. I lived here such a long time, I knew the Winter Court better than almost anyone. I still do. But now…” His brow furrowed. “Now, when I look at Tir Na Nog, all can I see are the missing pieces. The family who’s no longer there. Sage is gone. Rowan is gone.” His eyes clouded over, and I could feel his regret, the gnawing ache of remorse and guilt. “I never thought I would miss them,” Ash mused in a soft voice. “I never thought…I would be the very last of my line.”

I took his hand in both of mine, squeezing gently, the cool metal of his wedding band brushing my skin. “I’m sorry, Ash,” I whispered, as his bright soulful gaze shifted to me. “I can’t even imagine what that’s like. I miss my family like crazy, and they’re still alive.”

“It’s a little different.” Ash gave me a faint smile, though his eyes were still shadowed. “Your family loves one another—you would do whatever it takes to keep them safe. My family…well, you’ve seen them. I could never drop my guard around my brothers, especially Rowan. And Mab…” He shook his head. “Mab was always the Winter Queen, and she never let us forget that.”

“But you still miss them.”

“Yes,” he admitted. “I was still a part of that circle. It was familiar, safe. I belonged there. Even with all the cruel games we used to play, the countless times we used each other, I still knew that Rowan and Sage and Mab would always be there.” He gazed down at his hand, still trapped in mine. “But things are different now. My brothers are gone, and the Winter Court will no longer welcome me, not like it did before.”

“Feeling homesick?”

“Tir Na Nog is no longer my home.” Ash finally looked up again, meeting my gaze. His eyes lightened, back to that gorgeous silver. “I’m whining, aren’t I?” he said with a rueful look, and shook his head. “No, I’m not homesick. I might miss my kin, but my home is Mag Tuiredh, or wherever you wish to rule from. The Nevernever, the Iron Realm, even the mortal world, it doesn’t matter to me. Meghan…” He shifted closer, closing the distance between us, and one hand rose to brush my cheek. “My home…is with you.”

Dammit, don’t cry, Meghan
. I bit my lip to keep the tears in check. It would not do to show up to the Winter Court with blurry eyes, but sometimes Ash would surprise me with quiet, sincere statements like these and I couldn’t help it.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, mistaking my tears for remorse, perhaps. “I’ll stop talking about the Winter Court. I knew I had to come back and face Mab eventually. You shouldn’t have to hear me go on and on about it—”

“Ash,” I interrupted, placing a finger against his mouth, making him arch his brows. “Just kiss me.”

He smiled. Slipping an arm around my shoulders, he drew me forward, lowered his head and brought his lips down to mine.

We kissed each other in that dark carriage, our lips moving in rhythm, both of us uncaring of the Unseelie city right outside the windows. Ash was gentle at first, keeping himself under control, but when I leaned against him, tracing kisses down his jaw, he groaned and tilted his head back, whispering my name. I pushed him into the corner, my hands tangling in his hair, his running the length of my back, pulling us closer. Our kisses were hungry now, devouring. My tongue parted his lips, sweeping inside; his pulled away to press to my neck, making me shiver and gasp. My hand slipped down his chest to his lean, hard stomach, and then slid beneath the fabric, tracing his ribs. He jerked, exhaling raggedly, before his cool lips seared over mine again.

Pulling back, he watched me, those clear silver eyes gleaming brightly in the darkness. “My queen,” he breathed, one hand reaching up to frame my cheek, making my stomach jump and twirl. “I belong to you. No matter what Mab says, no matter how long I’ve been in Tir Na Nog, my life is yours. Nothing will ever make me leave your side.”

“You’re going to make me cry,” I warned him, as my eyes went blurry again and his gorgeous face shifted in the darkness like water. “And Mab is either going to be very happy to see me in tears, or very disgusted with us.” He laughed softly and drew me close, wrapping his arms around me in a fierce, protective way. His heart pounded beneath my fingers, and I felt the lightest brush of his lips against my ear.

“I love you, Meghan,” he whispered, and I gave a tiny, happy sob, hiding my face in his shirt. Ash held me tight, resting his chin atop my head, gazing out the window. “I don’t have to hide anything anymore,” he murmured above me, sounding content and defiant at the same time. “Not from Mab, not from anyone. Let them talk and stare. This Elysium will be very different.”

The carriage jerked and shuddered to a halt at the front gates of the Winter palace. Ash reluctantly let me go as I pulled back, composing myself for the ordeal ahead. The carriage driver hopped down from the seat and opened the door for us, letting in a swirl of chilly wind. Ash exited first, then turned to help me down.

“Ready for this?” I asked him as I stepped out into the cold, snowy courtyard. Icicles hung from everything, and the air was bitingly cold. Oh, yes, lovely Unseelie weather. I remembered this quite well. Glitch and a squad of Iron knights stepped forward, flanking us, ready to follow. Ash nodded, offering his arm, and together we stepped into Mab’s cold, frozen domain.

The first thing I noticed, as we crossed the courtyard full of frozen statues and huge, multicolored crystals, was that it was full of Winter fey. Considering this
was
the heart of Unseelie territory, that wasn’t surprising, but what made me wary was the fact that they were all staring at us. Sidhe nobles watched us with barely concealed smirks, goblins and redcaps followed us hungrily, though they still kept their distance from the knights, and bogies lurked in the shadows, watching intently as we passed.

Ash’s grip on my arm was tight as we wove our way through the courtyard, ignoring and yet unable to ignore our inhuman audience. As we began climbing the steps into the palace, one of the sidhe nobles, a lanky faery with spiky crystalline hair, gave Ash a mocking salute and murmured a sarcastic “Prince.” Ash didn’t acknowledge him; his face stayed blank. The mask of the Winter prince.

It dawned on me what was happening. They were all here to see the new queen and her supposedly mortal husband. Not to be welcoming or polite; they were testing for weakness, wondering if this new, half-human queen would be easy to manipulate and take apart. And they were also here for Ash, to see if their former ice prince would be weak as a mere mortal. Which would make the queen he served weak, as well.

Oh, that had to end. Here and now. Not only for the future of my kingdom, but if Ash was to have any peace in Tir Na Nog, he was going to have to prove himself to his own people. Prove to everyone that neither the Iron Queen nor her knight—though both had mortal blood—were ever to be underestimated.

“Ash,” I whispered as we neared the top of the steps. “Remember what I said this morning, about not getting into any duels?”

“Yes.”

We’d reached the top of the steps, a few feet away from the open door into the hall, and I pulled him to a stop. Glitch and the knights paused as well, but I motioned for them to keep going. He gave me a worried look, but bowed and went through the arch, stopping on the other side to wait for us.

I turned to my knight, who looked vaguely worried, as well. “I take it back. The mob behind us is itching for trouble. I want you to oblige them.”

Ash blinked. “You want me to start a fight?” he asked in disbelief. “Now?” When I nodded, he frowned, lowering his voice. “Mab and Oberon are expecting both of us,” he said. “It might send the wrong message if you go in alone.”

“I can handle them.” I glanced at the crowd at the bottom of the steps, seeing their wide smirks, their hungry gazes, and felt my resolve grow. “I’m the Iron Queen—I should face the other rulers by myself first. And I want you to send another message, Ash. The Unseelie Court is no doubt wondering if their former prince is as strong as he was. They’re curious to see if a mere mortal can protect himself and his queen in the Winter Court. If there is any doubt, word will spread, and the other courts might see the Iron Court as weak, easy to exploit.” I reached out and squeezed his arm, smiling fiercely. “That doubt ends right here. I want you to make sure that everyone knows that we are
not
weak, that the Iron Queen’s knight is not someone to cross. Ever.”

Ash’s eyes gleamed, the shadow of an evil grin crossing his face. “As you command, my queen,” he said in a low voice, barely hiding his glee. “I will carry out your wishes. Please send Mab and Oberon my apologies. I will rejoin you as soon as I am able.”

I nodded and went through the door, nodding at Glitch to follow, leaving my knight to turn and face the trailing crowd. I heard the rasp of his ice-blade as it was unsheathed, and the shouts of the mob in the courtyard. Footsteps scuffled over the ground, no doubt Winter fey scrambling to attack…or flee. I felt an icy burst of glamour, probably from Ash, and another yell of utter shock.

“What
are
you?” something howled, and then there was a crash, and the sound of shattered icicles tinkling to the ground. Laughter rang out,
Ash’s
laughter, jubilant and defiant, making me pause.

What are you?

A good question. One that I’d asked myself on more then one occasion. Physically, Ash was no different than before; lean and graceful, with the same command of Winter magic and sword skills that made him such a lethal warrior. He was still fierce, loyal, protective and could level an icy glare that could make your insides freeze. In that regard, he hadn’t changed.

And yet, sometimes, he was so different. It would be insane to ever think of Ash as soft, but the frozen shell that had always surrounded the Winter prince was gone. He was…kinder now, able to empathize in ways he couldn’t as a pure Unseelie. There were times when he seemed so human in little, subtle ways I’d never noticed before, that I’d forget he had ever belonged to the Winter Court.

It made me wonder. Was Ash human like me, a mortal with faery glamour and magic left over from his life as a Winter prince? Or was he still fey? A faery…with a human soul?

I didn’t know. And really, I didn’t care. Ash was Ash. You couldn’t put a descriptor on him; there was no one who had done what he had, no other like him in the entire realm of Faery. He was…unique.

Another yell echoed through the door. I continued down the hall with Glitch and the knights as the clamor of battle rang out behind me, followed by howls of pain and dismay. And I smiled to myself. Whatever Ash was, he was the best at what he did. It wouldn’t take him long.

* * *

This year’s Elysium was held in Queen Mab’s ballroom, and the place was already filled with fey. I left Glitch and the knights in the hall just outside the entrance, and an Unseelie herald announced my arrival in clear, high tones: “Her majesty Meghan Chase, monarch of Mag Tuiredh, sovereign of the Iron territories and Queen of the Iron Fey.”

He paused, as if expecting to announce Ash as well, but of course Ash was not with me at the moment. After a heartbeat, the herald nodded, and I stepped into the room, to the stares of dozens of fey.

A long white table waited at the end of the room, with three figures already seated and two empty spots farther down. Queen Mab, King Oberon and Queen Titania waited for me as I walked across the room, my back straight and my chin held high.

“Meghan Chase.” Mab’s greeting could not exactly be called a welcome. The Unseelie monarch sat in the middle of the table, her long black hair styled elegantly atop her head, pinned in place with icicles. “How fortuitous of you to join us.”

“Queen Mab,” I said politely, and nodded to my father, to her left. “Lord Oberon, Lady Titania.” The Summer Queen pursed her lips and pointedly ignored me, but Oberon gave a solemn bob of his head. Not unfriendly, but not really acknowledging me as a daughter, either. I stifled a sigh. This was going to be a long night.

“Where is Ash?” Mab inquired, her dark gaze flicking to the door behind me. “Has he not come? Is he not anxious to see his old court and kith?” Her voice lowered, turned slightly dangerous. “Has he forgotten us so quickly?”

“No, Queen Mab. Ash is here.” I was quick to reassure her, knowing Mab took insult easily and held grudges forever. “He was…held up…for a few minutes in the courtyard. I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

“I see.” Mab sat back, apparently mollified. “Good. I wish to hear how Ash is getting along in the poisoned realm.”

I was about to reply that Ash was doing just fine, thank you, when every light in the place—torches, the icicle chandeliers, flickering blue candles in the columns—sputtered and went out.

Snarls and cries of alarm filled the air. Chairs overturned as fey leaped to their feet, drawing weapons and glaring into the shadows. I spun, searching for hidden dangers, for anything stupid or crazy enough to attack during Elysium when the most powerful fey in all the Nevernever were in the very same room.

“Silence!” Mab stood up, her voice booming through the darkness, and instantly everything went completely mute. You could’ve heard a pin drop. “Whoever is responsible for this will soon wish they had never been born,” she rasped into the still darkness. “You will not embarrass me in my own court in the midst of Elysium. Show yourself, now!”

She waved her hand, and lights sprang up again, candles and chandeliers flaring to life. The faeries in the room blinked and cringed and glanced around, wary of attackers and one another.

They didn’t immediately notice the old woman standing in the middle of the room, where nothing had been before. But I spotted her almost at once, and my stomach went cold with dread.

The oracle, ragged, dusty and as brittle as old newspaper, turned the hollow pits of her eyes on me and didn’t look away. I heard Titania’s sharp gasp, just as the other fey discovered the ancient creature standing in their midst and surged away from her like she had a disease. But the oracle’s sightless gaze never wavered, and she seemed to float over the ground like a dusty wraith, until she stood a few yards from me.