The Iron Legends: Winter's Passage\Summer's Crossing\Iron's Prophecy (16 page)

I called the roots again, but this time, my Iron glamour surged
forth, infusing the wood as it wrapped around the snake. The sentinel hissed and
thrashed again, trying to break free, but the ancient roots were streaked with
iron now and as strong as cables. The snake’s thrashing slowed as the iron roots
coiled around it, and it shrieked in frustration.

Gripping my sword, I walked forward, still sending power
flowing into the tree, the merged glamour of Summer and Iron. I passed the first
head, which hissed and tried to snap at me, failing. I walked calmly past the
second, to the same result, until I stood in the center of the coil of roots and
snake. And I closed my eyes again, searching for the heartbeat, the pulse of
life that pounded through the huge sentinel. I followed that beat, the coils of
both snake and tree thrashing wildly around me, until I found it. A chink in the
snake’s armor, a hole barely the size of my fist. The sentinel wailed, beady red
eyes glaring at me through the branches, and I gave it a sad smile.

“I’m sorry. But I am the Iron Queen, and you are in my
way.”

Raising my sword, I drove it, point down, into the crack
between scales, sinking it deep. The sentinel screamed, a high piercing wail,
and convulsed madly, shaking the roots of the tree. I staggered away, clutching
my sword, as it wailed and thrashed, fighting the inevitable. At last, its
struggles slowed, the light went out of its crimson eyes and it finally stopped
moving.

I slumped against a branch, breathing hard, my body spent from
using so much power. Pushing myself off the root, I sheathed my blade as Ash and
Puck came through the web, both their expressions blank with disbelief. I
grinned at them tiredly.

“There, that wasn’t so bad,” I said, still trying to catch my
breath. “So, why did you guys have such a hard time, before?”

Puck blinked at me, and Ash approached until he stood only a
few feet away. Silently, he met my gaze and, lowering his head, gave me a very
solemn bow. “You are truly a queen of Faery,” he said in a voice only I could
hear. “I am honored to be your knight.”

A lump caught in my throat, but at that moment, the Wishing
Tree flared up and blazed with light. I flinched and turned away as hundreds, if
not thousands, of candles sprang to life along the branches, making the entire
tree glow in the darkness like a beacon.

“Oh, yeah,” Puck commented, staring up at the galaxy of
flickering lights. “I remember this. Bit of advice, princess—only blow out the
one candle. Bad things happen if you try to wish for more than one thing.”

Warily, we stepped beneath the limbs of the tree, feeling the
heat from a thousand tiny flames against our faces. I caught a flash of gray fur
overhead, and Grimalkin peered down at us from one of the branches, the
candlelight reflected in his golden eyes. “The wish has already been spoken,” he
purred, waving his tail. “The way to the oracle is clear. When you are ready,
simply douse a candle and close your eyes. The tree will do the rest.”

“Yeah, and what else will it do, I wonder?” Puck muttered,
giving both Grimalkin and the flickering candles a dubious look. “You sure you
voiced the wish
exactly
right, cat? No loopholes or
funny turns of phrase that could be used against us? I don’t wanna wake up as a
frog or find myself on the bottom of the ocean or something crazy like
that.”

The cat scratched an ear, unconcerned. “I suppose you will have
to take your chances.”

I spotted a candle on a low hanging limb, its orange flame
dancing weakly in the shadows. “Come on,” I told the boys quietly. “If this is
the only way to the oracle, we have to do this. No turning back now.”

Ash moved beside me and took my hand. “We don’t want to get
separated,” he murmured, lacing our fingers together. “There will be a cost,
later, that’s how it works. The Wishing Tree always demands a price, no matter
what Grimalkin says.”

My stomach twisted, but Ash gave me a reassuring smile and
squeezed my hand. I felt the smooth metal of his wedding band press against my
skin, and I smiled back.

Half turning, I held out the other hand to Puck. He hesitated,
still eyeing the tree, and I wrinkled my nose at him.

“Robin Goodfellow,” I said, giving him a challenging smile,
“don’t tell me you’re afraid.”

His green eyes flashed with familiar defiance, and he stepped
close, taking my hand. “Not on your life,
princess,
”
he returned, smirking. “Though
don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. If we all end up as llamas, I’m
going to spend the rest of my life following you around saying ‘I told you so’
in llama-ese.”

I quickly pushed away the thought of Puck as a llama before I
started laughing. I needed to stay serious, focus on what lay ahead. The oracle
waited for me, and she held the answers about my child. But I wasn’t afraid
anymore. Not with Ash and Puck beside me, their fingers wrapped tightly around
mine, protective auras glowing strong. Just like old times, as Puck said. The
three of us had been through so much together and always won; this wasn’t going
to be any different.

I squeezed their hands, raised my head and blew out the candle.
A thin wisp of smoke curled into the air, and that was the last thing I saw.

Chapter Six

I opened my eyes, blinking in confusion. I
didn’t remember closing them, but I must have, because everything was different.
The glen and the Wishing Tree were gone, as was the body of the monstrous snake.
A tunnel of thick black brambles surrounded me, bristling with thorns, the
branches creaking and slithering against one another like they were alive.

“Well, we’re here,” Puck said, releasing my hand to pat himself
down, as if making sure he was all there. “Looks like we made it in one piece,
too.” He peered past me to where Ash stood on the other side, squeezing my
fingers in a death grip. “
And
all together. I was
half expecting us to land in different corners of the Nevernever, or at the very
least surrounded by nasties wanting to tear our heads off. Looks like Furball
actually pulled it off.”

“What did you expect, Goodfellow?” Grimalkin sauntered by, tail
in the air, and did not look at us. “I am a cat.”

I stole a glance at Ash. He looked relieved as well, though I
could tell he was worried about the whole situation. He, too, had been expecting
trouble the moment we arrived.

“Stay alert,” he told us softly as we moved forward, following
Grimalkin down the tunnel of thorns. “Just because there are no surprises now
doesn’t mean there won’t be some later.”

Ahead of us, the ceiling of the tunnel began to shimmer,
rippling with waves of blue light. As we reached the end of the corridor, the
passage opened up, and we stood at the edge of a small grotto surrounded by
thorns. Overhead, the Briars shut out the sky, branches woven so tightly
together the area felt more like a cave than anything else. The walls were
filled with human clutter: toys, books, picture frames, trophies, stuffed
animals, all dangling from the thorns or speared upon a long black spike.
Grimalkin had vanished within the clutter, like another stuffed animal in the
huge pile of toys. A porcelain doll with a missing eye stared at me as I
ventured past the lip of the tunnel into the chamber.

“Well, that’s just all kinds of creepy,” Puck muttered at my
side, giving the doll a look of alarm. “If you see any clowns, do me a favor and
don’t point them out, okay? I’d rather live without the nightmares.”

I was about to snap at him for putting the thought of killer
clown dolls in my head, when Ash touched my arm and nodded to something ahead of
us.

In the center of the grotto, a bright, glowing pool threw hazy
reflections over the walls and ceiling. But the pool itself was perfectly still,
like the surface of a mirror, and you could see everything reflected in it. The
walls full of clutter and the ceiling of the grotto plunged down like a hole in
the pool’s surface. At the edge of the water, slumped in an ancient rocking
chair like a pile of discarded rags—or a long desiccated corpse—was a familiar
old woman.

For few seconds, the oracle was so very still that I thought
she was dead, after all. Then her head slowly turned, and those empty, eyeless
pits fastened on me.

“You have come.” She rose from the chair as if she were on
strings and raised a withered hand, beckoning us forward. I squared my shoulders
and marched toward her, Ash and Puck close behind me. The Briars seemed to hold
their breath, the dolls and other toys watching intently, until we stood just a
few feet from the ancient hag, the now-familiar stench of grave dust and old
newspapers clogging the back of my throat.

For a second, nobody moved.

I cleared my throat. “All right,” I announced, meeting that
eerie stare head-on. Or, hoping I did, anyway. It was difficult to glare at an
eyeless face—you didn’t really know if it was looking at you or not. “I’m here,
Oracle. We came as fast as we could. Now, what is this offer you were speaking
of at Elysium? What do you know about my child?”

“Your child,” the oracle mused, almost dreamily. “Your
son
. Yes, I know much about him,” she continued,
smiling at my shock. “Many futures have I glimpsed, and in all, he is a
remarkable creature, born of Summer, Winter and Iron, an anomaly among all his
kind. Human and fey, with the magic of all three courts flowing through his
veins, he will possess a power none have ever seen.” She paused then, her
forehead creasing like wrinkled paper. “And here is where his future becomes
cloudy. Something is out there, Iron Queen, something dark, and it has the power
to turn your son from you. I cannot see what it is, perhaps it is not even in
the world yet, but
he
is balanced on a very fine
edge, able to fall either way. And what comes after…” She shook her shriveled
head. “I have seen death and destruction on a grand scale, many lives lost, the
courts destroyed, and in the center of it all is your son.”

I was having trouble breathing. My legs felt shaky, and I
locked my knees to keep myself upright. Beside me, even Puck looked stunned, his
face pale beneath his red hair. Ash didn’t say anything, but he stepped close
and placed a steady hand on the small of my back, just to reassure me he was
still there. I leaned into him and drew strength from his touch.

“You…still haven’t told me your offer,” I whispered, reeling
from the flood of information the oracle had thrown at me. “You could have told
me this at the Voodoo Museum, or anywhere in the Nevernever. Why did you call us
here?”

The oracle’s thin lips curled in a grim smile. “Because, I have
something to show you, Iron Queen,” she whispered back, and turned to gesture at
the water behind her. “The Dreaming Pool can show anyone their future, or the
future of another, if one knows where to look. Come…” She beckoned me with a
talon. “Step forward, into the waters, and I will show you your son.”

I shared a glance with Ash, and he nodded. But before we could
step forward, the oracle spoke again. “Only the Iron Queen,” she said, as I
looked up sharply. “I can take only one with me into the pool. This is the
queen’s decision, no others’.”

“This is Ash’s son, too,” I protested. “He deserves to see
this.”

“I cannot,” the oracle said simply. “I can show only one, and
you are the queen. This responsibility, and the choice that comes with it, falls
to you.”

Ash took my arm, gently drawing us away from the shimmering
light of the pool. Puck nonchalantly moved between us and the oracle, crossing
his arms and smirking at her, making sure she didn’t follow, but she did not
move.

I looked up at Ash, and he offered a faint smile, taking my
hands. “It’s all right,” he murmured, gazing into my eyes. “I trust you. I know
you’ll do what’s best for our son, even if I can’t be there. Just remember this,
Meghan.” One hand rose to cup my cheek. “Whatever the oracle shows you, no
matter how bleak or terrible or frightening, it hasn’t happened yet. Don’t let
her terrify you into doing something we’ll both regret.”

I nodded, my heart pounding. Ash lowered his head and kissed
the side of my neck, right below my ear, and I shivered. “I love you,” he
whispered. “Know that I’m with you always, even if you can’t see me.” He pulled
back just enough to place a soft kiss on my lips, his gaze intense. “Whatever
you discover, you’re not alone. You have me, and Puck, and a whole kingdom,
ready to stand beside you at a word. There is nothing the oracle can reveal that
will make us abandon you.”

My throat felt tight. I wanted to fall into him, to curl into
his arms and shut out the whole world. But the oracle was watching us; I could
feel the hollow pits of her eyes on the back of my head, and I could not appear
weak, not now. So I pressed a palm to Ash’s cheek, trying to convey what I felt
without words. He covered my hand with his own and smiled.

Then I turned, raised my chin and walked back to the
oracle.

She was no longer in the same spot but had drifted out into the
center of the Dreaming Pool, still watching my every move as we joined Puck at
the edge. Our reflections gazed back at us, perfect mirror images on the glassy
surface: the Iron Queen, her knight and the infamous Robin Goodfellow, smirking
at the hag in the center of the pool. The oracle stood on top of the water, as
if the pool was only an inch deep. Though the water was so still, it was
impossible to discern the bottom; all I could see was the brambly roof of the
grotto, reflected back at me.

“Step forward, Iron Queen,” the oracle beckoned. “Come to Anna,
and I will show you your son. Remember, only you are allowed this privilege.
Your knight and the Summer prankster must stay behind. Do not worry, it will not
take long.”

“Oracle,” Ash said in a deadly calm voice as I took a step
forward, halting at the water’s edge. “I am trusting you with the well-being of
my wife and a queen of Faery,” he continued as I hesitated. “If she returns
harmed in any way, not only will you face the wrath of the entire Iron Court,
you will have to deal with me, personally.”

“Yeah, and he won’t be alone, either,” Puck chimed in, sounding
more serious than I’d heard in a while. “You’ll have to deal with both of us,
not to mention a very pissed-off Summer King. And probably the entire Seelie
Court.” He grinned then, but it was one of his scary, evil smiles. “Just a
friendly warning to bring her back unscathed.”

The oracle pursed her bloodless lips. “Your queen’s physical
body will be in no danger,” she said reluctantly, as if being forced to read the
fine print of a contract. “However, glimpsing the future, even a small part, is
a serious matter, and can be traumatizing for weaker minds. I cannot promise
that your queen will not be
changed
by what she will
see. I can only show her the future. I cannot be responsible for how it affects
her.”

Puck turned a worried gaze on me. “Sure you wanna do this,
princess?”

I felt Ash at my back, remembered his words, the look in his
eyes, and felt no fear. “Yes,” I said firmly, facing the pool again. Ash had
seen our future, a possible one, anyway, and it hadn’t stopped him. I needed to
do this, to discover everything I could about my child, our son. “I’m ready,” I
told the oracle. “Show me what you’ve seen. I want to know.”

“Then, come,” the oracle whispered, holding out a hand. “Step
into the Dreaming Pool, Meghan Chase. Step into the pool, and I will take you to
your son.”

I walked forward, expecting the sink below the surface, to wade
out to where the oracle floated above the water. But the pool was only an inch
deep, after all, because the water didn’t even come past my ankles, barely
soaking the hem of my jeans as I walked out to the middle of the pool. The water
barely rippled as I passed, maintaining its near-perfect glassiness even when my
footsteps broke the surface. By the time I reached the oracle, waiting in the
center, the pool had returned to absolute calm once more.

The oracle’s eyeless holes scanned my face. “Are you certain
this is what you wish?” she asked, as if this was the last formal courtesy she
had to get out of the way. “You cannot unsee what you are about to
discover.”

“I’m sure,” I said.

She nodded once. “Then look down, Iron Queen. Look straight
down, into the water.”

I looked down.

My reflection stared back at me, perfectly clear. I felt like I
was standing on a piece of glass or a giant mirror, rather then the surface of a
pool. But, then I stared past my image, past my head, to where the ceiling of
the grotto should’ve been reflected in the water’s surface.

The brambly ceiling of the chamber now blazed with stars, and a
full silver moon beamed down from a cloudless sky.

Startled, I looked up. The shadowy grotto had disappeared. A
puddle still soaked my feet, but I now stood in the middle of a grassy field,
gentle hills rolling away on either side. In the distance, at the bottom of a
slope, fluffy white creatures moved through the grass like stray clouds, and
their faint
baas
drifted to me over the breeze.

“Where am I?” I asked, turning in a slow circle. A hint of dust
and decay abruptly caught in my throat and sent the sheep bolting over the hills
in terror.

“The mortal realm,” the oracle whispered, appearing behind me.
“Ireland, I believe it is called now. The birthplace of many of our kind.”

I was about to ask what we were doing in Ireland, when another
scent on the wind made me stop, my heart jumping to my throat. It was faint, but
I recognized it immediately; live through enough war and battles, and the smell
becomes impossible to ignore.

Blood.

I followed the direction of the breeze and saw a lone figure
several yards away, standing beneath the light of the moon. His back was to me,
but I could see he was tall and lean, his loose silver hair gleaming in the
darkness, tossed gently by the wind. He stood in the middle of a ring of
toadstools, huge white bulbous things that formed a near-perfect circle around
him.

As I approached, my heart began a strange thud in my chest. The
figure didn’t turn around, his attention focused on the ground at his feet. As I
got closer, I saw the sword, curved and graceful, held loosely in one hand. The
blade and the arm that held it were stained with blood, dark streaks all the way
past his elbow.

As I drew close, the figure turned, and I gasped.

I couldn’t see his face; it was blurry and indistinct, his
features hidden as if in a fog. But I knew him; I recognized him as surely as I
knew my own shadow, my own heartbeat. Bright, tall, achingly handsome, even if I
could not see his face. I sensed piercing, icy-blue eyes, somewhere in the haze
between us, felt him smile at me.

My son.
This is my son
.

And he was covered in blood. It stained his hands, his arms,
was splattered in large streaks across his chest. My heart gave a violent lurch,
thinking he was fatally wounded, dying perhaps. Was this what the oracle wanted
to show me? Was this the grief she was talking about, the death of my child? But
how could that be, when he was standing right there, and I could still feel his
smile, directed at me?