The Iron Knight (39 page)

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.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

THE IRON KNIGHT

The wyldwood was exactly as I remembered it—gray, dark, misty, with huge trees blocking out the sky—and yet, it was vastly different. I used to be a part of this world, part of the magic and the energy that flowed through all living creatures in the Nevernever. I wasn’t now. I was apart, separate. An intruder.

But now that I was back in the Nevernever, I could feel the glamour swirling within me, familiar and strange at the same time. Winter glamour, but different. As if … as if it wasn’t
my
magic anymore, but I could still reach it, still use it. Perhaps it was part of this soul I had gained, the part that Ariella had given up, freely and without reservation. And, if that was true, then in some small way, she was still with me.

I found that thought very comforting.

“So.” Grimalkin appeared out of the mist, jumping onto a fallen log, his plumed tail waving behind him. “Here we are at last. I trust the two of you can manage the rest of the way without me?”

“Running off again, cat?” Puck crossed his arms, but his
grin was an affectionate one. “And here I was just getting used to having you around.”

“I cannot look over your shoulder every step of the way, Goodfellow,” Grimalkin replied in a bored tone. “It was a good adventure, but now it is done. And, as difficult as it is to believe, I have things of my own to attend to.”