The Iron Daughter (33 page)

“I love her.”

Softly, and without hesitation, as if he'd already made up his mind. My heart turned over and I gasped, but it was lost in the ripple of horror and disbelief that went through the crowd. Whispers and muttering filled the air; some faeries snarled and hissed, baring their teeth, as if they wanted to mob Ash, but kept their distance from the queen.

Mab didn't look surprised, though the smile curling her lips was as cold and cruel as a blade. “You love her. The half-breed daughter of the Summer lord.”

“Yes.”

I ached for him, my stomach twisting painfully. He looked so desolate standing there alone, facing a mad queen and several thousand angry fey. His voice was flat and resigned, as if he'd been pushed into a corner and had given up, not caring what happened next. I started to go to him, but Puck grabbed my arm, his green eyes solemn as he shook his head.

“Ash.” Mab placed a palm on his cheek. “You're confused. I can see it in your eyes. You didn't want this, did you? Not after Ariella.” Ash didn't reply, and Mab drew back, regarding him intently. “You know what comes next, don't you?”

Ash nodded once. “I swear an oath,” he whispered, “never to see her again, never to speak to her again, to sever all relationships and return to the Winter Court.”

“Yes,” Mab whispered back, and a sick despair tore at my heart. If Ash spoke those words, it would be over. A faery
couldn't
break a promise, even if he wanted to. “Swear the oath,” Mab continued, “and all is forgiven. You can come back to Tir Na Nog. Return to the palace, and take your place as heir to the throne. Sage is gone, and Rowan is dead to me.” Mab placed a kiss on Ash's cheek and stepped back. “You are the last prince of Winter. It is time to come home.”

“I…” For the first time, Ash hesitated. His gaze met mine, bright and anguished, begging forgiveness. I choked on a sob and turned away, my throat aching with misery, not wanting to hear the words that would take him from me forever.

“I can't.”

Silence fell over the field. Puck stiffened; I could feel his shock. Biting my lip, I turned back, hardly daring to believe. Ash faced Mab calmly, the queen staring at him with a terrible, blank expression on her face. “Forgive me,” Ash murmured, and I heard the faintest of tremors beneath his voice. “But I can't…I won't…give her up. Not now, when I've just found her.”

I couldn't take it anymore. Breaking away from Puck, I started toward Ash. I couldn't let him do this alone. But Oberon stepped in front of me, holding out his arm, as unmovable as a mountain. “Do not interfere, daughter,” Oberon said in a voice meant only for me. “This is between the Winter prince and his queen. Let the song play to its conclusion.”

Distraught, I looked back to Ash. Mab had gone very still, a beautiful, deadly statue, the ground beneath her coated with ice. Only her lips moved as she stared at her son, the air around them growing colder by the second. “You know what will happen, if you refuse.”

If Ash was afraid, he didn't show it. “I know,” he said in a weary voice.

“Their world will eat at you,” Mab said. “Strip you away bit by bit. Cut off from the Nevernever, you will not survive. Whether it takes one mortal year or a thousand, you will gradually fade away, until you simply cease to exist.” Mab stepped closer, pointing at me with the scepter. “She will die, Ash. She is only human. She will grow old, wither and die, and her soul will flee to a place you cannot follow. And then, you will be left to wander the mortal world alone, until you yourself are
only a memory. And after that—” the queen opened her empty fist “—nothing. Forever.”

Ash didn't react, but I felt the queen's words punch me in the stomach. Bile rose in my throat. How could I be so blind and stupid? Grimalkin had told me once that faeries banished from the Nevernever would die, that they would fade away until nothing was left. Tiaothin had told me that in the Winter palace, when I was trying to ignore her. I'd known all along, but refused to believe. Or perhaps I just hadn't wanted to remember.

“This is your final chance, Prince.” Mab stepped back, her voice stiff and icy, like she was talking to a stranger. “Give me your solemn vow, or be damned to the mortal world forever. Make your choice.”

Ash looked at me. I saw pain in his eyes, and a little regret, but they shone with such emotion I felt breathless. “I already have.”

“So be it.” If Mab's voice was cold before, it was in the sub-zero range now. She waved the scepter and, with a sharp crack, a rip appeared in the air. Like ink spreading over paper, it widened into a jagged archway. Beyond the arch, a flickering streetlamp glimmered, and rain pounded the road, hissing. The smell of tar and wet asphalt drifted through the opening. “From this day forth,” Mab boomed, her voice carrying over the field, “Prince Ash is considered a traitor and an exile. All trods will be closed to him, all safe holds are barred, and if he is seen anywhere within the Nevernever, he is to be hunted down and killed immediately.” She looked at Ash, fury and contempt curling her lips. “You are not my son. Get out of my sight.”

Ash stepped back. Without a word, he turned and walked toward the archway, shoulders back and head high. At the edge of the trod, he hesitated, and I saw a shadow of fear cross his
face. But then his expression hardened, and he swept through the door without looking back.

“Ash, wait!”

Darting around Oberon, I rushed for the trod. Faeries hissed and snarled, and Puck yelled for me to stop, but I ignored them all. As I approached Mab, her lips curled in a cruel smile and she stepped back, giving me a clear shot at the open trod.

“Meghan Chase!”

Oberon's voice cracked like a whip, and a roar of thunder shook the ground. I stumbled to a halt a few feet from the doorway, so close that I could see the road and darkened street, the blurry outline of houses through the rain.

The Erlking's voice was ominously quiet, and his eyes glowed amber through the gently falling snow. “The laws of our people are absolute,” Oberon warned. “Summer and Winter share many things, but love is not one of them. If you make this choice, daughter, the trods will never open for you again.”

My stomach dropped. There it was. Oberon would banish me from the Nevernever, as well. For a split second, I almost laughed in his face. This wasn't my home. I hadn't asked to be half-fey. I'd never wanted to be caught up in their problems, or their world. Let him exile me; what did I care?

Don't kid yourself,
I thought with a sudden sick feeling in my gut.
You love this world. You risked everything to save it. Are you really going to walk away and forget it ever existed?

“Meghan.” Puck stepped forward, pleading. “Don't do this. I can't follow you this time. Stay here. With me.”

“I can't,” I whispered. “I'm sorry, Puck. I do love you, but I have to do this.” His face clouded with pain, and he turned away. Guilt stabbed at me, but in the end, the choice had always been clear.

“I'm sorry,” I whispered again to Puck, to Oberon, to everyone, and turned back to the doorway.
I don't belong here. Not really. Time to wake up and go home for real.

“Are you sure, Meghan Chase?” Oberon's voce was cold, remorseless. “Walk out of Faery with him now, and you're never coming back.”

Somehow, the ultimatum made it that much easier.

“Then I'm never coming back,” I said softly, and went through the arch, leaving Faery behind me forever.

Second Homecoming

As I stumbled through the trod and onto the sidewalk, the rain hit me like a hammer, cold, wet and comfortingly unpleasant. Like normal rain. Lightning flickered overhead; regular, white lightning that didn't respond to the whims of a faery king's mood. My gown clung to my body; the drenching would be the finishing touch to ruining it completely, but I didn't care. My time in Faery was over. No more faery glamour, faery food or faery tricks. I was done.

With one exception, of course.

“Ash!” I called, squinting through the rain and darkness, through the glow of the streetlamps that made it impossible to see more than a few feet. “Ash, I'm here! Where are you?”

The empty road mocked me. Didn't he think I'd come after him? Was he already gone, fading into the rain without a backward glance, believing himself alone in the world? Tears
muffled my voice. “Ash!” I yelled, taking a few steps down the sidewalk. “Ash!”

“You'll wake everyone up if you keep shouting like that.”

I whirled around. He stood where the portal had been, hands in his pockets, the rain drumming his shoulders and making his hair run into his eyes. Lamplight fell around him, shining off his slick coat, surrounding him with a faint nimbus of light. But to me, he'd never looked so real.

“You came after me,” he murmured, sounding awed, incredulous, and relieved at the same time. I walked up to him, smiling through my tears.

“You didn't think I'd let you go off alone, did you?”

“I was hoping.” Ash stepped forward and hugged me, pulling me close with desperate relief. I slid my arms beneath his coat and held him tight, closing my eyes. The rain pounded us, and a lone car passed us on the road, spraying us with gutter water, but I felt no urge to move. As long as Ash held me, I could stay here forever.

He finally pulled back but didn't release me from the circle of his arms. “So,” he murmured, his silver eyes boring into mine. “What do we do now?”

“I don't know,” I said, shivering as he brushed a strand of wet hair from my cheek. “I think…I should go home soon. Mom and Luke are probably going nuts. What about you?”

He shrugged, a casual lift of one shoulder. “You tell me. When I left the Nevernever, I didn't have any plans other than being with you. If you want me around, just say the word.”

My eyes watered. I thought of Rowan, of Ironhorse, and the armies of the false king, still on the move. I thought of Leanansidhe and Charles, trapped in the Between. I would have to get him out someday, and confront Leanansidhe about stealing my dad so long ago. But for now, the only thing I wanted was standing right here, looking at me with an expres
sion so open and unguarded that I thought my heart would burst out of my chest. “Don't leave,” I whispered, tightening my hold. “Never leave me again. Stay with me. Forever.”

The Winter prince smiled, a small, easy smile, and lowered his lips to mine. “I promise.”

* * * * *

Keep reading for an exclusive excerpt
from the most
anticipated new series of 2014:

THE TALON SAGA

Book 1

TALON

Only from Julie Kagawa and Harlequin TEEN.

One would think the second book in a series would be easy to write, now that you've finished the first one and gotten all the hard stuff out of the way. Ha ha ha! No. The second book is just as difficult, if not more so, as the first, and so the list of people I have to thank has not diminished in the slightest. My family, of course, for being so supportive and always believing I could do the impossible. My newfound friends online: Khy and Sharon and Kristi and Liyana, and all the wonderful YA book bloggers of the blogosphere, whose excitement and love of this genre makes me grateful and humbled at the same time. I cannot begin to express my thanks for all they have done. My agent, Laurie McLean, who always has time to answer my questions even though I spell her name wrong sometimes. Natashya Wilson and Adam Wilson, the perfect tag team of Super Editors, and all the wonderful, hardworking folks at Harlequin Teen. I cannot thank you all enough. And again, I must express my deepest, heartfelt gratitude to my husband, Nick, the greatest listener of all time. I still couldn't have done it without him.

“Julie Kagawa is one killer storyteller.” –MTV's
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Don't miss a single installment of
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The Iron King
(Book 1)
Winter's Passage
(Novella)
The Iron Daughter
(Book 2)
The Iron Queen
(Book 3)
Summer's Crossing
(Novella)
The Iron Knight
(Book 4)
Iron's Prophecy
(Novella)
The Lost Prince
(Book 5)
The Iron Traitor
(Book 6)
The Iron Warrior
(Book 7)

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Alpha was halfway up the lawn when the roof
exploded.

Something dark, scaly and massive erupted from the hacienda,
sending tile and wood flying as it launched itself into the air. It was huge, a
full-grown adult, the height of a bull elephant and three times as long. Curved
horns spiraled up from its narrow skull, and a mane of spines ran down its neck
to a long, thrashing tail. The sun glinted off midnight scales, and leathery
wings cast a long shadow over the ground as the dragon hovered in the air a
moment, glaring down at the battle below, then dove to attack.

Wings flared, it landed on the lawn with a roar that shook the
earth, and sent a cone of flame blasting through the ranks of soldiers. Bodies
fell away, screaming, flailing, as hellish dragonfire consumed armor and flesh
like tinder. The dragon pounced, scything through the ranks with its claws,
crushing soldiers in its teeth before flinging them away. Its tail whipped out,
striking an entire group coming up behind it and knocking them aside like
bowling pins.

Now!
I leaped to my feet, as did
the rest of my squad, and opened fire on the huge reptile. The M16s chattered in
sharp, three-round bursts, and I aimed carefully for the dragon's side, behind
the front foreleg where the heart would be. Blood erupted along the armored
hide, and the dragon screamed as some of the shots hit home, though not enough
to kill it. It staggered, and I pressed forward grimly, concentrating fire on
its weak points. If we could kill it quickly, the less damage it could do, and
the fewer lives it would take. There could be no hesitation on our part; it was
either us, or the dragon.

Directly across from us, a black jeep with a mounted .50
caliber Browning M2 burst from the bushes, and machine gun fire joined the
cacophony as the vehicle sped toward the dragon. Caught in a deadly crossfire,
the dragon roared. Bounding away, it opened its leathery wings and launched
itself into the air with a powerful downward thrust.

“Aim for the wings!” the commander barked in my ear, though I
was already switching targets, methodically firing at the sweeping membranes.
“Bring it down now! Don't let it fly away.”

But the dragon had no intention of fleeing. Roaring, it turned
and swooped from the sky, dropping fifteen tons of scales, teeth and claws onto
its target. It smashed full force into the jeep, halting its momentum, crushing
the hood and causing the driver to fly into the windshield. The gunner flew from
the back, tumbling to the ground and sprawling limply in the ferns. With a
triumphant bellow, the dragon overturned the whole vehicle, crushing metal and
glass and turning the jeep into a mangled wreck. I winced inside, but there was
no time to think on the lives lost. We would pay our respects to the fallen when
the battle was won.

My squad switched fire back to the dragon's flank. Streaked
with blood, the dragon jerked, and that long neck snapped around, a murderous
gleam in its red eyes as it glared in our direction.

“Hold position!” I snapped to the rest of my squad, as the
dragon roared a challenge and spun, tail lashing. “I'll draw it off. Keep
firing!”

I left my hiding place and started forward, firing short,
controlled bursts as I did, heading around the dragon's side. Spotting me, the
dragon reared its head back and took a breath, and my pulse spiked. I dove away
as fire erupted from its jaws, searing into the jungle and setting the trees
ablaze. Rolling to my feet, I looked up to see the huge lizard coming for me,
jaws gaping wide. My heart pounded, but my hands remained steady as I raised my
gun and fired at the horned skull, knowing the thick breastplate would protect
its chest and stomach. The dragon flinched, shaking its head as the shots struck
its bony brow and cheekbones, and kept coming.

I threw myself to the side as the dragon's head shot forward,
jaws snapping shut in the spot I had been. Quick as a snake, it whipped its neck
around and lunged again, teeth that could shear through a telephone pole coming
right at me. I avoided the six-inch fangs, but the massive, horned head still
crashed into my side, and even through the combat vest, pain erupted through my
ribs. The ground fell away as the force hurled me into the air, the world
spinning around me, and I rolled several paces when I struck the earth again.
Clenching my jaw, I pushed myself to my elbows and looked up...

...into the crimson eyes of my enemy.

The dragon loomed overhead, dark and massive, its wings
partially open to cast a huge shadow over the ground. I looked up, gazing into
its ancient, alien face, saw myself reflected in those cold red eyes that held
no mercy, no pity or understanding; just raw hate and savage triumph. It took a
breath, nostrils flaring, and I braced myself for the killing flames. There was
no fear, no remorse. I was a soldier of St. George; to die honorably in battle
against our oldest foe was all I could hope for.

A single shot rang out from somewhere in the jungle, the sharp
report echoing loudly even in the chaos. The dragon jerked and lurched sideways
with a roar, a bright spray of blood erupting from its side, as the
armor-piercing .50 caliber sniper round struck right behind its foreleg,
straight into the heart. The precision-perfect shot that Tristan St. Anthony was
known for. The blow knocked the dragon off its feet, and the ground shook as it
finally collapsed. Wailing, it struggled to rise, clawing at the ground, wings
and tail thrashing desperately. But it was dying, its struggles growing weaker
even as the soldiers continued to pump it full of rounds. From where I lay, I
watched its head hit the ground with a thump, watched its struggles grow weaker
and weaker, until it was almost still. Only the faint, labored rise and fall of
its ribs, and the frantic twitch of its tail, showed it was still clinging to
life.

As it lay there, gasping, it suddenly rolled its eye back and
looked at me, the slitted, bright red pupil staring up from the dirt. For a
moment, we stared at each other, dragon and slayer, caught in an endless cycle
of war and death.

I bowed my head, still keeping the dragon in my sights, and
murmured, “
In nomine Domini Sabaoth, sui filiiqui ite ad
Infernos
.” In the name of the Lord of Hosts and his son, depart to
hell. An incantation taught to all soldiers, from when they'd believed dragons
were demons and might possess you in a final attempt to remain in the world. I
knew better. Dragons were flesh and blood; get past their scales and armor, and
they died just like anything else. But they were also warriors, brave in their
own way, and every warrior deserved a final send off.

A low rumble came from the dying dragon. Its jaws opened, and a
deep, inhuman voice emerged through the screams and gunfire. “Do not think you
have won, St. George,” it rasped, glaring at me in disdain. “I am but a single
scale in the body of TALON. We will endure, as we always have, and we grow
stronger even as your race destroys itself from within. You, and all your kind,
will fall before us. Soon.”

Then the light behind the crimson orbs dimmed. The dragon's
lids closed, its head dropped to the ground, and its whole body shuddered. With
a last spasm, the wings stilled, the tail beating the earth ceased, and the huge
reptile went limp as it finally gave up its fight for life.

I slumped, collapsing to my back in the dirt, as cheers rose
around me. Soldiers began emerging from the trees, shaking their weapons and
letting out victory cries. Beyond the massive corpse, bodies from both sides lay
scattered about the lawn, some stirring weakly, some charred to blackened husks.
Flames still flickered through the trees, black columns of smoke billowing into
the sky. The crumpled remains of the jeep smoldered in the middle of the field,
testament to the awesome power of the huge reptile.

The firefight with the guards had ceased. Now that their master
was gone, the last of the enemy was fleeing into the jungle. No orders were
given to track them down; we already had what we'd come for. In a few minutes,
another crew would chopper in, clean up the debris, raze the hacienda, and make
all the bodies disappear. No one would ever know that a monstrous,
fire-breathing creature of legend died here this afternoon.

I looked at the lifeless dragon, crumpled in the dirt while the
squads milled around its body and grinned and slapped each other on the back. A
few soldiers approached the huge carcass, shaking their heads at the size,
disgust and awe written on their faces. I stayed where I was. It was not the
first dead dragon I'd seen, though it was the largest I'd ever fought. It would
not be the last. I wondered, very briefly, if there would ever be a “last.”

Dragons are evil;
that was what
every soldier of St. George was taught.
They are demons.
Wyrms of the devil. Their final goal is the enslavement of the human race,
and we are the only ones standing between them and the ignorant.

While I wasn't certain about the entire
wyrms of the devil
part, our enemy certainly was strong, cunning and
savage. I'd fought enough battles, seen enough of what they could do, to know
they were ruthless. Merciless. Inhuman. Their power was vast, and they only got
stronger with age. Thankfully, there weren't many ancient dragons in the world
anymore, or at least, most of our battles were against smaller, younger dragons.
To take down this huge, powerful adult was an enormous victory for our side. I
felt no remorse in killing the beast; this dragon was a central figure in the
South American cartels, responsible for the deaths of thousands. The world was a
better place with it gone.

My ribs gave a sharp, painful throb, and I gritted my teeth.
Now that the adrenaline had worn off and the fight was done, I turned my
attention to my injury. My combat vest had absorbed a good bit of the damage,
but judging from the pain in my side, the force of the blow had still cracked a
rib or two.

“Well, that was amusing. If you ever get tired of the soldier
life, maybe you should consider a career as a dragon soccer ball. You flew
nearly twenty feet on that last hit.”

I raised my head as a mound of weeds and moss melted out of the
undergrowth, shuffling to my side. It carried a Barrett M107A1 .50 caliber
sniper rifle in one shaggy limb, and the other reached up to tug back its hood,
revealing a smirking, dark-haired soldier four years my senior, his eyes so blue
they were almost black.

“You okay?” Tristan St. Anthony asked, crouching down beside
me. His ghillie suit rustled as he shrugged out of it, setting it and the rifle
carefully aside. “Anything broken?”

“No” I gritted out, setting my jaw as pain stabbed through me.
“I'm fine. Nothing serious, it's just a cracked rib or two.” I breathed
cautiously as the commander emerged from the trees, slowly making his way toward
us. I watched him bark orders to the other squads, point at the dragon and the
bodies scattered about, and struggled carefully upright. The medic would be here
in a few minutes, taking stock of the wounded, seeing who could be saved. I
glanced at Tristan. “Killing shot goes to you, then, doesn't it? How big was the
pot this time?”

“Three hundred. You'd think they'd figure it out by now.”
Tristan didn't bother hiding the smugness in his voice. Glancing over, he gave
me an appraising look. “Though I guess I should give you a portion, since you
were the one who set it up.”

“Don't I always?” Tristan and I had been partners awhile now,
ever since I turned fourteen and joined the real missions, three years ago. He'd
lost his first partner to dragonfire, and hadn't been pleased with the notion of
“babysitting a kid,” despite the fact that he was only eighteen himself. His
tune changed when, on our first assignment together, I'd saved him from an
ambush, nearly gotten myself killed, and managed to shoot the enemy before it
could slaughter us both. Now, three years and dozens of battles later, I
couldn't imagine having someone else at my back. We'd saved each other's lives
so often, we'd both lost count.

“Still.” Tristan shifted to one knee, grinning faintly. “You're
my partner, you nearly got yourself eaten, and you might've set a world record
for distance in being head-butted by a dragon. You deserve something.” Tristan
nodded, then dug in his pocket and flourished a ten-dollar bill. “Here you go,
partner. Don't spend it all in one place.”

* * * * *

TALON
Copyright © 2014 by Julie
Kagawa