The Iron Knight (42 page)

Q&A WITH JULIE KAGAWA, PLUS A FEW UNEXPECTED GUESTS

 

1. You’ve taken faery lore and created a unique spin on it—the Iron fey. How did you come up with the idea for iron faeries?
Julie:
I always loved faeries (the dark dangerous kind, not the glittery Tinkerbell kind), but when it came to writing
The Iron King,
I started thinking—what are the fey afraid of? The answer in traditional mythos is iron, so what if there was a type of fey who had evolved from the very thing faeries dread? Then I remembered we already have “monsters” living in machines: gremlins, bugs, viruses and so on. And from that thought the Iron fey were born.
Puck:
Yeah, and speaking for all of us normal fey, I want to thank you for creating another species that acts like our kryptonite, heavy sarcasm.
Ash:
For once, I agree with Goodfellow.
Julie:
Where did you two come from?

2. Who is your favorite character in the series? Or … if that’s too hard, why do you like each one and who drives you crazy?
Puck:
Well, she likes me best, of course. I’m the handsome, charming one.
Ash:
Yes, that’s why she gave you your own book. Oh, wait.
Puck:
No one asked you, ice-boy.
Julie:
I like them all in different ways. But I will say that Ash was the hardest character to write sometimes. It’s so hard to get him to talk! I’ll be pushing him to open up and say something and he just crosses his arms and acts stubborn.
Ash:
…
Julie:
See?

3. What is your favorite part of the Nevernever? Where would you live if you were a faery?
Julie:
I was going to say the wyldwood, but on second thought, I think I’d live in the Iron Realm with Meghan and Ash.
Ash:
See? She prefers my company to yours.
Julie:
Not really. It’s just hard to find a wireless signal in the wyldwood.
Puck:
*snicker*

4. Originally, the Iron Fey was meant to be a trilogy. How did
The Iron Knight
come about?
Julie:
The Iron Knight
came about because I love Ultimate Noble Sacrifice endings, and my editor (who is fantastic, by the way) liked HEAs (Happily Ever Afters). I had a very specific character arc in mind for Meghan,
and Iron Queen was supposed to be the end of her journey, her accepting responsibility even at great cost. But my editor convinced me that we couldn’t leave Meg and Ash apart, and so I started work on
The Iron Knight.

5. Do you have a writing routine? Anything you must have/not have in order to work?
Puck:
Here we go.
Julie:
My routine: Wake up. Get morning stuff done. Turn on laptop. Curse ‘cause it’s not picking up the router signal again. Wait two minutes until it does. Check email. Check Twitter. Check
other
email account. Check blogs. Chat a little on TweetDeck. Tell everyone I’m off to write. Open up document. Stare at it. Decide I need music to write to. Fiddle around with my playlist. Decide I’m hungry and need food. Forage in the kitchen. Come back, stare at document a little longer. Check email….
Ash:
Why don’t you just turn off the internet?
Julie:
Because then I couldn’t do any research.
Puck:
Oh,
research.
Silly me, I thought you were just playing around on YouTube.
Julie:
Shut up, Puck.

6. Tell us a little about other things that interest you, besides writing.
Julie:
Well, I enjoy reading, painting and drawing, but I also love anime, manga and comics. I’m an avid gamer—I have a PS3, an Xbox 360 and a Wii. My favorite food in the whole world is sushi, and I’m taking classes in Wing Tzun kung fu.
Puck:
*singing* “Everybody was kung fu fighting …”
Julie:
Agh.
Ash, stop him before that song is stuck in everyone’s head.
Ash:
Too late.

7. Who are some of your favorite authors? What do you read for fun?
Julie:
I have so many favorites I can’t list them all, but Neil Gaiman is one author whose books I adore. I read mostly fantasy and paranormal, both in YA and adult, but I’m trying to branch out into other genres, too. And I love manga, even though I can tear through the newest edition of
Shinobi Life
in twenty minutes flat.

8. Besides being a talented writer, you are also an artist. What sort of art do you do?
Julie:
I like sketching and drawing, mostly cartoon-style art with pens and Prismacolor markers. For instance, I did a webcomic on my blog with Ash and Puck, “chibi style.”
Ash:
It was mortifying.
Puck:
But you looked so cute—Ow!
Julie:
I also paint rocks. And I’ll let you ponder that one for yourself, lol.

9. Any advice for aspiring writers?
Julie:
Persist. Never stop believing in yourself or your stories. Know that the road to publication may be long and hard, but the ones who made it are the ones who never gave up.
Thanks, Julie!

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

 

1.) Ash begins his journey in
The Iron Knight
to keep a promise he made to Meghan Chase. How important is it to keep promises when circumstances change? Under what, if any, circumstances would you not keep a promise?

2.) Ash and Puck have an intense relationship based on a friendship gone wrong. We might call them frenemies. Ash felt that Puck was responsible for Ariella’s death in the past. Do you believe Ash was justified in making his vow to kill Puck? How would you handle having a close friend cause hurt to another friend, whether accidentally or on purpose?

3.) In
The Iron Knight,
we learn of the many terrible things Ash has done in the past, including murder. How did learning the details of Ash’s past affect your opinion of him? In real life, who do you believe deserves a second chance?

4.) Through Ash’s quest to gain a soul,
The Iron Knight
explores what it means to be human, to have humanity.
What are the key qualities of being human? What traits do you value in yourself and your friends and family?

5.) In the gauntlet, Ash, Puck, Ariella and Grimalkin face mirror images of themselves that represent their dark sides. Why is it important that they see what they might become? How does it help Ash to succeed in his quest? Why didn’t Grimalkin’s reflection fight with the others?

6.) Ariella chooses to give up her life so that Ash can have a soul. How might that sacrifice affect Ash in the future? In real life, what kinds of sacrifices are worth making, and what might constitute going too far?

7.) How does Puck change over the course of the story? Why do you think he chose to come with Ash and support him in his quest to win the woman whom Puck also loves? Who do you believe should be with Meghan, and why?

8.) One of the premises behind Julie Kagawa’s faery world is that faeries exist and become more powerful when humans remember them, tell stories about them and dream of them. What kind of power do dreams and the imagination have on humankind? How are they important in our lives?

Turn the page for an exclusive excerpt from book 1 of
Julie Kagawa’s dark and thrilling new series
BLOOD OF EDEN
.

THE IMMORTAL RULES
In a future world, vampires reign.
Humans are blood cattle.
And one girl will search for the key to save humanity.

I started to look around to get my bearings, but suddenly noticed something that turned my blood to ice. “Stick,” I said softly, looking down at his leg, “what happened?”

Blood was oozing from a gash in his knee, spreading through the thin fabric of his pants. “Oh,” Stick said, as if he’d just noticed it himself. “I must’ve cut it when I fell off the fence. It’s not very deep….” He stopped when he saw my face. “Why?”

I stood slowly, carefully, my mouth going dry. “Blood,” I murmured, backing away. “Rabids can smell blood for miles. We have to go n—”

It leaped atop the car with a howl, lashing out at the space I’d been a moment before, ripping through the metal with its claws. Stick yelled and dived away, skittering behind me as the thing atop the car gave a chilling wail and looked right at us.

It had been human once—that was the most horrible thing about it. It still had a vaguely human face and emaciated body, though its skin, nearly pure white and stretched tightly across its bones, looked more skeleton than human. The tattered threads of what had been clothes hung on its frame, and its hair was tangled and matted. Its eyes were white orbs with no irises or pupils, just a blank, dead white. It hopped off the car and hissed at us, baring a mouthful of pointed teeth, the two oversize fangs extending outward like a snake’s.

Behind me, Stick was whimpering, soft choked noises that made no sense, and I caught the sharp ammonia smell of urine. Heart pounding, I eased away from him, and the Rabid’s hollow gaze followed me for a brief second before returning to Stick. Its nostrils flared, and bloody foam dripped from its jaws as it took a lurching step forward.

Stick was frozen in terror, watching the Rabid like a cornered mouse would a snake. I had no idea why I did what I did next. But my hand reached into my pocket and grabbed the knife. Pulling open the blade, I closed my fist around the edge and, before I thought better of it, sliced it across my palm.

“Hey!” I yelled, and the Rabid snapped its horrible gaze to me, nostrils flaring. “That’s right,” I continued, backing away as it followed, leaping atop another car as easily as walking. “Look at me, not him. Stick,” I called without taking my eyes from the Rabid, keeping a car between it and me, “get out of here. Find the drain—it’ll take you back to the city. Do you hear me?”

No answer. I chanced a sideways glance and saw him still frozen in the same spot, eyes glued to the Rabid stalking me. “Stick!” I hissed furiously, but he didn’t move. “Dammit, you spineless little shit! Get out of here, now!”

With a chilling shriek like nothing human, the Rabid lunged.

I ran, ducking behind a truck, hearing the Rabid’s claws screech off the rusty metal as it followed. I dodged and weaved my way through the vehicle-littered street, keeping the cars between me and the pursuing Rabid, glancing back to gauge the distance between us. It snarled and hissed at me over the vehicles, hollow eyes blazing with madness and hunger, its claws leaving white gashes in the rust.

Dodging behind another car, I gazed around frantically for
a weapon—a pipe, a branch I could use as a club, anything. The Rabid’s shriek rang out behind me, horrifyingly close. As I reached down and grabbed a chunk of broken pavement from the curb, I glimpsed a pale form in the corner of my eye and turned quickly, swinging with all my might.

The jagged concrete hit the Rabid square in the temple as it lunged for me, grasping claws inches from my face. I heard something crack beneath the stone as it knocked the creature aside, smashing it into the door of a car. The Rabid collapsed to the pavement, trying to get up, and I brought the stone down again, smashing the back of its skull.

The Rabid screamed and twitched, limbs jerking sporadically, before collapsing to the sidewalk. A dark puddle oozed from beneath its head and spread over the street.

Trembling, I dropped the stone and sank to the curb. My hands shook, my knees shook and my heart was doing its best to hammer its way through my ribs. Up close, the Rabid looked smaller in death than in life, all brittle limbs and protruding bones. But its face was as horrible and terrifying as ever, fangs frozen in a snarl, soulless white eyes staring up at me.

And then a hiss behind me made my heart stop a second time.

I turned slowly as another Rabid slid out from behind a car, arms and mouth smeared with wet crimson. It clutched a branch in one claw … only, the branch had five fingers, and the tattered remains of a shirt clung to it, soaked with blood. Seeing me, the Rabid dropped the arm to the pavement and crept forward.

Another Rabid followed. And another leaped to the roof of a car, hissing. I spun and faced two more, sliding from beneath a truck, pale dead eyes fastened on me. Five of them. From all directions. And me, in the center. Alone.

In the rain, everything grew very quiet. The only thing I heard was my pulse, roaring in my ears, and my ragged breathing. I gazed around at the foaming, blood-soaked Rabids, not ten yards from me in any direction, and for just a moment I felt calm. So this was the knowledge that you were about to die, that no one could help you, that it would all be over in a few short seconds.

In that brief moment between life and death, I looked between cars and saw a figure striding toward us, silhouetted black against the rain. Something bright gleamed in its hand, but then a Rabid passed through my field of vision and it was gone.

Then survival instincts kicked in, and I ran.

Something hit me from behind, hard, and warmth spread over my neck and back, though there was no pain. The blow knocked me forward and I stumbled, falling to my knees. A weight landed on me, screeching, tearing at me, and bright strips of fire began to spread across my shoulders. I screamed and flipped over, using my legs to shove it away, but another pale creature filled my vision, and all I could see was its face and teeth and blank, dead eyes, lunging forward. My hands shot out, slamming into its jaw, keeping those snapping teeth away from my face. It snarled and sank its fangs into my wrist, chewing and tearing, but I barely felt the pain. All I could think of was keeping the teeth away from my throat, though I knew its claws were ripping open my chest and stomach—I had to keep it away from my throat.

And then the others closed in, screaming, tearing. And the last thing I remembered, before the bloody red haze finally melted into blackness, was a flash of something bright, and the Rabid’s body dropping onto my chest while its head continued to bite my arm.

Then, thankfully, there was nothing.

When I woke up, I knew I was in hell. My whole body was on fire. Or at least it felt that way, though I couldn’t see the flames. It was dark, and a light rain was falling from the sky, which I found strange in hell. Then a dark figure loomed over me, jet-black eyes boring into mine, and I thought I knew him from … somewhere. Hadn’t I met him before … ?

“Can you hear me?” His voice was familiar, too, low and calm. I opened my mouth to reply, but only a choked gurgle escaped. What was wrong with me? It felt as if my mouth and throat were clogged with warm mud.

“Don’t try to speak.” The soothing voice broke through the agony and confusion. “Listen to me, human. You’re dying. The damage the Rabids did to your body is extreme. You have only a few minutes left in this world.” He leaned closer, face intense. “Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

Barely. My head felt heavy, and everything was foggy and surreal. The pain was still there, but seemed far away now, as if I was disconnected from the rest of my body. I tried raising my head to see the extent of my wounds, but the stranger put a hand on my shoulder, stopping me. “No,” he said gently, easing me back. “Don’t look. It’s better that you do not see. Just know that, whatever you choose, you will die today. The manner of your death, however, is up to you.”

“Wha—” I choked on that warm wetness, spit it out to clear my throat. “What do you mean?” I rasped, my voice sounding strange in my ears. The stranger regarded me without expression.

“I’m giving you a choice,” he said. “You are intelligent enough to know what I am, what I’m offering. I watched you draw the Rabids away to save your friend. I watched your struggle to fight, to live, when most would have lain down and died. I can see … potential.

“I can end the pain,” he continued, smoothing a strand of
hair from my eyes. “I can offer you release from the mortal coil, and I will promise that you will not rise again as one of them.” He nodded to a pale body, crumpled against a tire a few yards away. “I can give you that much peace, at least.”

“Or?” I whispered. He sighed.

“Or … I can make you one of us. I can drain you to the point of death, and give you my blood, so that when you die you will rise again … as an immortal. A vampire. It will be a different life, and perhaps not one that you would suffer through. Perhaps you would rather be dead with your soul intact than exist forever without one. But the choice, and the manner of your death, is up to you.”

I lay there, trying to catch my breath, my mind reeling. I was dying. I was dying, and this stranger, this vampire, was offering me a way out.

Die as a human or become a bloodsucker. Either way, the choice was death, because the vampires were dead; they just had the audacity to keep living. I could not become like them—a soulless predator, a walking corpse that preyed on the living to survive. I hated the vampires; everything about them—their city, their pets, their domination of the human race—I despised with my entire being. They had taken everything from me, everything that was important. I would never forgive them for what I had lost.

But the other choice. The other choice … was to die for real.