The Iron Legends: Winter's Passage\Summer's Crossing\Iron's Prophecy (9 page)

“What?”

But then we were through the side of the hill and stepping into
a courtyard teeming with Summer fey—the heart of Arcadia.

Music played, one of my favorite tunes about sun and shadows
and growing things, and lying at the bottom of a cool stream while the fish
whispered to you. Trees lining the edge of the courtyard sighed softly, moving
their branches to the song, and the thousands of flowers blooming everywhere
swayed gently in rhythm. Dryads, satyrs, gnomes and other Summer fey milled
about the open space, sitting on benches, talking or dancing together in the
grass. Yep, I was definitely home.

I could feel Ash’s glare on the back of my head, and knew he
was ready to kill me, but the fey closest to the edge of the courtyard spotted
us and leaped to their feet.

“Be nice, ice-boy,” I said through clenched teeth, plastering a
grin on my face as the crowd came forward. “They’re coming, so smile and don’t
stab your partner. It’s showtime.”

“Sir Fagan!” a female satyr exclaimed, skipping up to us. Her
hooves clopped daintily over the cobblestones. “Sir Torin! You’ve returned, and
you’re alive. Welcome back!”

“How were your travels, Sir Fagan?” asked a nymph, giving me a
sly smile. “Did you manage to get the Treasure of the Moonbeast this time? Did
you slay the dreaded Worm of the Fellswamp? Tell us of your adventures.”

“Yes, yes,” echoed a brownie. “What happened?”

“Yes, tell us!”

“Tell us your story!”

I raised a hand. “Enough, fair people, enough! There will be
time enough for stories and songs and tales of daring-do, but that time is not
now.” They quieted down, looking disappointed, and I gave a tired sigh. “Sir
Torin and I have traveled far and wide, and we are weary. We have many tales to
tell, yes, but first we must speak to our lord.”

“Lord Oberon has left court for a time,” the satyr explained,
watching me with big hazel eyes. Her gaze abruptly flickered to “Torin” beside
me, and she grinned. “But Queen Titania is here, and I’m sure she would be
pleased to receive you. Would you like me to find a messenger to announce your
return?”

“That would be much appreciated, fair lady,” Ash said at my
shoulder, startling me. The satyr beamed and skipped off, and we made our way
toward the gate separating the courtyard from Oberon’s inner sanctum. Summer fey
smiled at us and nodded or hid grins and whispers behind their hands. We ignored
them. So far, so good. Step one, getting into the Summer Court, had gone off
without a hitch. Now all we had to do was find Leanansidhe’s violin and get out
of Arcadia without blowing our cover. And, knowing the Summer Queen and her
obsessive tendencies, it would probably be somewhere in her private chambers.
That was going to make things…challenging.

I glanced at Ash. I could think of
one
way to get into the queen’s bedroom, but he would probably flip
out if I suggested that, so I kept my mouth shut.

“What?” Ash sighed. I blinked.

“Huh?”

“You’re giving me that look,” he continued as we stopped
several yards from the gates, which were guarded by two massive trolls in red
and brass uniforms. “That look that says you have a plan and I’m not going to
like it. At all.”

“Well…yes, I do have an idea…”

“And?”

“And…you’re not going to like it. At all.”

He sighed again, rubbing his eyes. “I think I already have an
inkling of what you’re going to say,” he muttered, looking pained. I
shrugged.

“It
would
be the easiest way to see
if she’s keeping the violin in her chambers. You could even offer to serenade
her.”

“If Titania discovers me, I’ll be dead before I have a chance
to draw my sword.”

And wouldn’t that be a tragedy?
“Ice-boy,” I said, grinning, “please. As if I would let that happen. Your
disguise is foolproof. Just don’t use Winter glamour, and you’ll be fine.”

Ash ran his fingers through his hair and leaned closer. “Puck,”
he said in a harsh voice. “I…I can’t do it. This isn’t a game anymore. You’re
asking me to seduce the queen of the Summer Court. This is high treason and
besides…” He looked away, his face tightening. “I’m still Meghan’s knight. My
vow…”

“Do you want to get the violin back, or not?” He actually
looked stricken, and I felt a little sorry for the guy. “Look, ice-boy,” I
whispered, “I don’t expect you to take her to bed, or even kiss her. Just the
thought of that…
ugh!
” I shuddered and pushed the
thought away, drawing my dagger in a smooth, furtive motion. “Oh, great, now
that image is stuck in my head forever. Just…flirt a little. Be charming. Tell
her about your ‘adventures.’ Then if she gets too touchy-feely, excuse yourself
and get out. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“I don’t like it.”

“I didn’t think you would. Hold still.” Swiftly I brought the
dagger up, cutting a strand of his long hair before he could react. It dropped
into my palm, and I curled my fist around it. “Perfect. Much obliged,
ice-boy.”

Ash reared back, eyes flashing, fingers going to his sword. I
shot him a warning glare, and he remembered himself, dropping his hand from the
hilt.

“What are you doing, Goodfellow?” he snarled.

“Keep it down, Prince.” I studied the strand between my
fingers, watching it change from pale blond to jet-black, and smirked. “It’s all
part of the plan, don’t worry.”

With a loud creak, the gates swung open and a satyr in a
herald’s uniform padded through, beckoning to us urgently. “Well, here we go,
ice-boy. Try to keep it together in front of the queen.”

Chapter Four

ILL MET BY MOONLIGHT, PROUD TITANIA

We walked through the gate into the flowering tunnel of
thorns on the other side. I breathed in deeply and sighed, loving the potent,
fragrant smells of the forest. Beside me, Ash did not look as enamored. His
posture was stiff, tense. I guess I couldn’t blame the guy, walking into the
heart of enemy territory, surrounded by Summer fey, unable to use his magic or
his weapon. I might’ve felt bad for him, if the whole thing wasn’t so darn
amusing.

The tunnel ended in a curtain of vines. Dark shapes and a
haunting, eerie tune filled the air on the other side. The melody pulled at my
stomach, a sad, sweet sound, before I shook it off. Looking at Ash, and the pale
determination on his face, I gave him a savage grin.

“No turning back now, ice-boy,” I muttered, and swept through
the curtain into the room beyond.

Oberon and Titania’s throne room was a massive clearing with
cathedral-size trees creating a vaulted ceiling overhead. Thick moss carpeted
the floor, and briars hemmed in the edges of the clearing. A waterfall trickled
into a crystal pool, where will-o’-the-wisps and piskie lights danced, bobbing
through the clearing like drunken stars. Summer gentry, in their ridiculously
fancy outfits, sat or stood around a pair of thrones in the middle of the
clearing, one empty, but the other quite occupied.

Oberon wasn’t here, of course, but Queen Titania sat on her
throne with the smug, lazy grace of a cat overseeing a flock of mice.

Everyone says the Summer Queen is stunning, beautiful,
absolutely captivating. Yeah, I guess she is, but so is a volcanic eruption, and
probably less volatile. Working in the Seelie Court is certainly interesting at
times, to say the least. The Summer rulers have caused floods and wildfires in
the mortal world with their arguments, and Titania once threatened to sink an
entire village into the mud because of a misunderstanding over a missing
hairpin. Fortunately Oberon can usually calm her rages and temper tantrums…when
he decides to involve himself, that is. Many times, he turns a blind eye to his
wife’s activities—until they affect him, of course.

None of the nobles in the clearing seemed to notice us as we
came in, their attention riveted to Titania, or something at the foot of her
throne. Ash took in the room in one smooth, practiced glance, and his eyes
suddenly widened. I followed his gaze, and my heart sank.

The music we’d heard in the tunnel, the slow, lilting melody
that was haunting and dark and beautiful, wasn’t played by any of Titania’s harp
girls or servants or faery musicians. The melody had been strange at first,
because it was of a kind not normally heard in the faery courts. It wasn’t a
harp, or a flute or any of the strange magical instruments found only in our
world.

It was a violin. Being played by a mortal girl no older than
eight, her small body tight as she sawed and ripped at the strings. She wore a
simple black dress, and her long, mahogany hair was the same color as the
instrument in her arms. Her eyes were closed as she played for her inhuman
audience, her thin body swaying back and forth, ignorant of the queen’s dainty
white hand resting atop her skull.

And I knew. Leanansidhe’s prized possession, and Titania’s
newest plaything, wasn’t the instrument in the girl’s tiny, skillful
fingers.

It was the girl herself. This was our “violin.”

* * *

Well, things just got a lot more complicated.

The song came to an end, and the girl’s eyes opened, dark and
serious and a tad bemused, as if she wasn’t quite sure if this was a dream or
not. The gentry tittered, clapping their hands and breathing small sighs of
admiration, while Queen Titania gave a small, pleased smile.

“That was beautiful, Vi,” she purred, combing the girl’s hair
with her fingers. The small human blinked and gazed up at the faery queen with
solemn eyes.

“The ending was flat,” she said regretfully. Her voice was
reedy and breathless, as if the violin had taken all the volume from her. “And
it was rushed in the beginning.” She sniffed and bit her bottom lip. “I’m sorry,
I wanted to play it better.”

“Oh, my dear, it was perfect.” Titania smoothed the hair back
from the girl’s face. “Wasn’t it?” she added, looking fiercely at the nobles,
who tittered and nodded and made appropriate noises of agreement. Beside me, Ash
muttered something inaudible and shot me a sideways glance.

“A child,” he muttered. “Leanansidhe’s ‘toy’ is a child. How
are we going to get her out, Goodfellow?”

“I’m thinking.”

“Think faster.”

“Now,” the queen continued, tugging at the girl’s dress,
straightening it, “would you like something to eat, my darling? Then, if you
want, you can play for us again after you’ve eaten.”

Vi sniffled. “Can I have cake?”

“Of course, my dear.” The queen smiled indulgently. “Would you
like that?”

The girl nodded eagerly. Titania bent down and kissed her
cheek. “Then I will have Cook bring you the sweetest cakes she can find.”

The child beamed. Titania snapped her fingers, and a brownie
appeared at her arm. “You heard her,” she told it. “Tell Cook we want her best
and sweetest cakes, as quickly as possible.”

“The little strawberry ones,” Vi added, smiling up at the
queen. Titania nodded at the brownie, who bowed and scampered off, fleeing into
the hedge. The queen chuckled and patted the girl’s head like she would a
favorite small dog.

“Isn’t she darling?” she mused, and the nobles were quick to
agree. “Such talent, and at such a young age. I don’t know how Leanansidhe could
stand to give her up.”

She laughed, and the gentry laughed with her. The girl sat
there with her hands in her lap, gazing vacantly at the faeries surrounding her.
As the chuckles died down, the queen finally spotted us at the edge of the
clearing, and her blue eyes lit up with delight.

“Oh, but my dears, we are being very rude.” The queen sat up,
raising a slender hand to us. “We have esteemed visitors, returned from yet
another impossible quest. Sir Fagan, Sir Torin, please step forward.”

I saw Ash draw in a quiet breath, steeling himself, and bit
down my anticipation. “Here we go,” I whispered, throwing out my chest. “Just
follow my lead.”

Chin up, chest puffed out, I raised my head and swaggered
toward the waiting queen.

Titania laced her fingers together and watched us approach, a
small smile on her perfect lips. But her gaze wasn’t fastened on me, but the
“Summer knight” at my side. Ash, much to his credit, was playing his part,
keeping his head up and a faint, proud smile on his face, his gaze only for the
queen.
Good,
I thought as we reached the foot of the
throne and bowed.
Keep looking at ice-boy. Pay no attention
to the buffoon next to him. Pay no attention to the man behind the
curtain.

“Sir Fagan.” Titania spared me a cursory glance. “Sir Torin.”
She smiled widely at Ash. “Welcome back. I apologize for my husband—he is away
from court at the moment and I am not sure when he will return.”

“We are sorry to have missed Lord Oberon,” Ash said, his voice
confident and clear, and slightly pompous. He took the queen’s outstretched hand
and brought it to his lips. “But to be in your presence, my lady—that is worth
all the blessings of our good king.”

I resisted the urge to stare at him, biting down a grin.
Well, look at you, ice-boy. Playing the part, after all. I
forgot you know how to do this, too, if pushed hard enough.

“Oh, Sir Torin.” Titania blushed, somehow managing to look
embarrassed and self-conscious even as she preened. “You are such a flatterer.
And we are so glad that you have returned. You must have stories to tell, my
dear Sirs. The court is most anxious to hear your newest adventures.” She
clasped her hands together. “I simply insist you join us in the Grand Dining
Hall tonight. Let us toast your noble quests, recognize your great deeds and you
can hear my newest acquisition play for you.” She stroked the girl’s hair again,
but Ash didn’t even glance at the human.

“That would please us greatly, your majesty.”

“It is decided, then.” Titania nodded regally, dismissing us.
“We will meet again tonight. I am most anxious to hear what you have been up to
in the time you’ve been gone.”

We bowed, and Ash reached down a second time and brought the
back of the queen’s hand to his lips. “Until tonight, my lady,” he murmured, and
we left the queen’s court, feeling her eyes on us until we ducked back into the
tunnel.

I held in my laughter until we were well away from the throne
room, before turning on Ash with a gleeful cackle. “What was
that,
ice-boy? Since when did you get to be such a
charmer? I didn’t think you had it in you.”

His face flamed. “I did what I had to do,” he said, crossing
his arms and looking away. “We got close to the queen and saw what Leanansidhe
sent us for. Now the question is, how do we get her away from Titania? How do we
get her out of the Summer Court?”

“Worry not, ice-boy. I already have a plan.” I flashed him my
best impish smile, rubbing my hands together. “One brilliant Goodfellow prank,
coming right up.”

* * *

The Grand Dining Hall wasn’t really a hall, more of a
marble courtyard underneath the stars, surrounded on all sides by a giant hedge
maze. In the very center, surrounded by hedgy unicorns and lions, the Summer
Queen held her most extravagant parties at a long white-and-gold table, very
reminiscent of a certain Mad Hatter’s tea party. To be invited to one of these
affairs, you had to be a personal favorite of the queen, or the next one on her
figurative chopping block. Needless to say, Oberon never attended.

The labyrinth was easy for “Sir Torin” and I to navigate,
despite a couple statues that tried pointing us in the wrong direction, and all
too soon we reached the table in the center of the maze. It was surrounded by
Seelie gentry in their fanciest clothes, gowns of feathers and rose petals,
cloaks of baby’s breath and spiderwebs. And at the head of the table, her golden
hair braided with flowers and sparkling moonstones, the Summer Queen smiled and
waved us over.

Vi, the mortal child, sat in a chair on the queen’s right,
solemnly plowing her way through an impressive fountain of pink-and-blue cake.
Her violin sat on a pillow, held by a waiting satyr behind the girl’s chair. She
didn’t look up as we approached, but the queen gave us a welcoming smile.

“Now,” Titania purred after introductions were made and the
rest of the gentry were settled, “let us hear of your latest adventures,
knights. Sir Torin, would you like to regale the court with your mighty quests
and deeds?”

Beside me, Torin lowered his head. “Ah, my lady, nothing would
make me happier.” He nodded to me with a small frown. “However, I believe Sir
Fagan has won the right to sing of our adventures this evening. We made a bet on
who would have the honor, and I lost. If it pleases you, I will leave the
storytelling to him.”

Titania pouted a bit then brightened. “Very well, then, Sir
Torin. I insist you keep me company for the evening. It is the least you can
do.” She gestured to the empty spot on her left. “Do sit, Sir Torin. Relax for a
while. Let my servants attend you for a change.”

“My lady, it is not proper—”

“I will decide what is proper in my court or not, Sir.”
Titania’s voice was like a velvet coating over steel. “As you can see, my
husband is not here, so I have the need to be protected from the riffraff at
court. What better protection than having a famed knight errant at my side?” She
gestured to the seat, more firmly this time. “Sit, Sir Torin. That is an order
from your queen.”

Sir Torin sat. Vi stared at him over the table, frosting
covering her mouth, but Titania didn’t even glance at the child. Her attention
seemed to have completely shifted to the knight sitting at her elbow. Torin met
the queen’s gaze and gave a hesitant, furtive smile.

“Well, Sir Fagan,” Titania said without looking at me, “it
seems we are to listen to you sing of your adventures tonight. I do hope it will
prove entertaining.”

Oh, you have no idea
. “Certainly,
my queen.” I grinned. Spinning away from the happy couple, I marched to the
center of the courtyard, pulling out a lute as I did. Sir Fagan—the real Sir
Fagan, that is—could do a fair job of strumming a tune, but tonight would be his
most memorable performance yet.

My fingers flew over the lute strings, and I sang about two
knights, sent by their king to retrieve the Treasure of the Moonbeast, only
neither of them knew what it was. After weeks of searching and getting no
answers, it was decided that the Treasure of the Moonbeast must be on the moon
itself, and they needed the great pearl at the bottom of the Mermaid Queen’s
ocean, rumored to be able to draw the moon down from the sky if taken from
water. Both knights nearly drowned, fighting off waves of sirens and mermen as
they fled back to dry land, but they did manage to steal the pearl. However,
when they held it up to see if it would really capture the moon as the legends
stated, the pearl slipped from their fingers, rolled off a cliff and fell back
into the ocean from whence it came.

The Summer gentry roared with that tale, laughing and clapping,
calling for more. I glanced at the head of the table and saw Torin and the
queen, deep in conversation, paying little attention to me. Titania was leaning
close to the knight, speaking in whispers, and Torin was nodding solemnly.
Perfect.

“This next song,” I announced, as my audience fell silent, “is
a tale about lost love, and how we must never take for granted what we have
right now.”

This time, the song was soft and slow, full of yearning, about
a knight who loved a noblewoman but feared expressing his love because of their
difference in rank. It was a sad tune, and I made it as heart-wrenching as I
could, weaving a bit of glamour into the notes for a bigger impact. I noticed
two gentry who listened, enraptured, then stood and wandered away into the maze
together.