The Iron Legends: Winter's Passage\Summer's Crossing\Iron's Prophecy (5 page)

He didn’t argue, and together we limped across the clearing to
the ice cave, ducking inside. The floor was a mess of shattered icicles, making
passage difficult and treacherous, but we found a clear space near the back of
the room. Ash sank down against the wall, and I tore a strip off the hem of my
cloak.

He was silent as I wrapped the makeshift bandage around his
arm, but I could feel his eyes on me as I tied it off. Releasing his arm, I
looked up to meet his silvery gaze. Ash blinked slowly, giving me that look that
meant he was trying to figure me out.

“Why didn’t you run?” he asked softly. “If you didn’t stop the
Wolf, you wouldn’t have to come back to Tir Na Nog. You would have been
free.”

I scowled at him.

“I agreed to that contract, same as you,” I muttered, tying off
the bandage with a jerk, but Ash didn’t even grunt. Angry now, I glared up at
him, meeting his eyes. “What, you think just because I’m human I would back out?
I knew what I was getting into, and I am going to uphold my end of the bargain,
no matter what happens. And if you think I would leave you to that monster just
so I wouldn’t have to meet Mab, then you don’t know me at all.”

“It’s
because
you’re human,” Ash
continued in that same quiet voice, holding my gaze, “that you missed a tactical
opportunity. A Winter fey in your position wouldn’t have saved me. They wouldn’t
let their emotions get in the way. If you’re going to survive in the Unseelie
Court, you have to start thinking like them.”

“Well, I’m
not
like them.” I rose
and took a step back, trying to ignore the feelings of hurt and betrayal, the
stupid angry tears pressing at the corners of my eyes. “I’m not a Winter
faery—I’m human, with human feelings and emotions. And if you want me to
apologize for that, you can forget it. I can’t just shut off my feelings like
you can. Though the next time you’re about to get eaten or killed, I guess I
won’t bother saving your life.”

I whirled to stalk away in a huff, but Ash rose with blinding
speed and gripped my upper arms. I stiffened, locking my knees and keeping my
back straight, but struggling with him would have been useless. Even wounded and
bleeding as he was, he was much stronger than me.

“I’m not ungrateful,” he murmured against my ear, making my
stomach flutter despite itself. “I just want you to understand. The Winter Court
preys on the weak. It’s their nature. They will try to tear you apart,
physically and emotionally, and I won’t always be there to protect you.”

I shivered, anger melting away as my own doubts and fears came
rushing back. Ash sighed, and I felt his forehead touch the back of my hair, his
breath fanning my neck. “I don’t want to do this,” he admitted in a low,
anguished voice. “I don’t want to see what they’ll try to do to you. A Summer
faery in the Winter Court doesn’t stand much of a chance. But I vowed that I
would bring you back, and I’m bound to that promise.” He raised his head,
squeezing my shoulders in an almost painful grip as his voice dropped a few
octaves, turning grim and cold. “So, you have to be stronger than they are. You
can’t let down your guard, no matter what. They will lead you on, with games and
pretty words, and they will take pleasure in your misery. Don’t let them get to
you. And don’t trust anyone.” He paused, and his voice went even lower. “Not
even me.”

“I’ll always trust you,” I whispered without thinking, and his
hands tightened, turning me to face him almost savagely.

“No,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “You won’t. I’m your enemy,
Meghan. Never forget that. If Mab tells me to kill you in front of the entire
court, it’s my duty to obey. If she orders Rowan or Sage to carve you up slowly,
making sure you suffer every second of it, I’m expected to stand there and let
them do it. Do you understand? My feelings for you don’t matter in the Winter
Court. Summer and Winter will always be on opposite sides, and nothing will
change that.”

I knew I should be afraid of him. He was an Unseelie prince
after all, and had basically admitted he would kill me if Mab ordered him to.
But he also admitted to having feelings for me—feelings that didn’t matter,
true, but it still made my stomach squirm when I heard it. And maybe I was being
naive, but I couldn’t believe Ash would willingly hurt me, even in the Winter
Court. Not with the way he was looking at me now, his silver eyes conflicted and
angry.

He stared at me a moment longer, then sighed. “You didn’t hear
a word I said, did you?” he murmured, closing his eyes.

“I’m not afraid,” I told him, which was a lie; I was terrified
of Mab and the Unseelie Court that waited at the end of this journey. But if Ash
was there, I would be all right.

“You are infuriatingly stubborn,” Ash muttered, raking a hand
through his hair. “I don’t know how I’m going to protect you when you have no
concept of self-preservation.”

I stepped close to him, placing a hand on his chest, feeling
his heart beat under his shirt. “I trust you,” I said, rising up so our faces
were inches apart, trailing my fingers down his stomach. “I know you’ll find a
way.”

His breath hitched, and he regarded me hungrily. “You’re
playing with fire, you know that?”

“That’s weird, considering you’re an ice prin—” I didn’t get
any further, as Ash leaned in and kissed me. I looped my arms around his neck as
his snaked around my waist, and for a few moments, the cold couldn’t touch
me.

* * *

We spent the night in the cave, both to give Ash a
chance to heal from his wounds and to give us one more night of rest before
entering Tir Na Nog. It didn’t take long for Ash to recover. The fey heal
insanely fast, especially if they are within their own territories, and by the
time darkness fell his bite wounds were almost gone. As the temperature dropped,
he started a fire, solely for my benefit, and we sat around the flames sharing
the last of the food, lost in our own thoughts.

Outside, the snow continued to fall, piling outside the
entrance and in the center of the room through the holes in the ceiling. It
sparkled in the icy moonlight, like flakes of diamonds drifting from the sky,
tempting me to stand in the center of the light and catch them on my tongue.

Ash was silent through most of the evening. He’d broken the
kiss earlier, pulling away with a guilty, agonized look, and mumbled something
about making camp. Since then, he’d given me short, one-word answers whenever I
tried talking to him, and avoided eye contact whenever possible.

He sat across from me now, chin on his hands, brooding into the
fire. Part of me wanted to walk up to him and hug him from behind, and part of
me wanted to hurl a snowball at his perfect face to get some kind of
reaction.

I opted for a less suicidal route. “Hey,” I said, poking at the
flames with a stick, making them cough sparks. “Earth to Ash. What are you
thinking about?”

He didn’t move, and for a second I thought he would reply with
his favorite one-word answer of the night:
nothing
.
But after a moment he sighed and his eyes flickered, very briefly, to mine.

“Home,” he said quietly. “I’m thinking of home. Of the
court.”

“Do you miss it?”

Another pause, and he shook his head slowly. “No.”

“But it’s your home.”

“It’s the place I was born. That’s all.” He sighed and gazed
into the fire. “I don’t go back often, and I rarely stay at court for any length
of time.”

I thought of Mom, and Ethan, and our tiny little farmhouse out
in the bayou, and a lump rose to my throat. “That must be lonely,” I murmured.
“Don’t you get homesick once in a while?”

Ash regarded me across the flames, understanding and sympathy
dawning in his gaze. “My family,” he said in a solemn voice, “is not like
yours.”

He rose gracefully, abruptly, as if the subject had become
tiring. “Get some sleep,” he said, and the chill was back in his voice.
“Tomorrow we reach the Winter Court. Queen Mab will be anxious to meet you.”

My gut twisted. I curled up inside my cloak, as close to the
fire as I dared, and let my mind go blank. I was certain that Ash’s last words
would prevent me from getting any sleep, but I was more exhausted than I
realized and soon drifted into oblivion.

That night, for the first time, I dreamed of the Iron King.

The scene was eerily familiar. I stood atop a great iron tower,
a hot wind stinging my face, smelling of ozone and chemicals. Before me, a huge
metal throne rose into the mottled yellow sky, black iron spikes raking the
clouds. Behind me, Ash’s cold, pale body was sprawled against the edge of a
fountain, blood oozing slowly into the water.

Machina the Iron King stood at the top of his metal throne,
long silver hair whipping in the wind. His back was to me, the numerous iron
cables extending from his shoulders and spine surrounding him like glittering
wings.

I took a step forward, squinting up at the silhouette on the
throne. “Machina!” I called, my voice sounding weak and small in the wind.
“Where’s my brother?”

The Iron King raised his head slightly, but didn’t turn around.
“Your brother?”

“Yes, my brother. Ethan. You stole him and brought him here.” I
kept walking, ignoring the wind that tore at my hair and clothes. Thunder boomed
overhead, and the mottled yellow clouds turned black and crimson. “You wanted to
lure me here,” I continued, reaching the base of the throne. “You wanted me to
become your queen in exchange for Ethan. Well, here I am. Now let my brother
go.”

Machina turned. Only it wasn’t the Iron King’s sharp,
intelligent face that stared down at me.

It was my own.

* * *

I jerked awake, my heart hammering against my ribs, cold
sweat trickling down my back. The fire had gone out, and the ice cave lay dark
and empty, though the sky showing through the holes was already light. Snow lay
in huge glimmering piles where it had drifted in through the roof, and several
new icicles were already forming on the ceiling, growing back like teeth. Ash
was nowhere to be seen.

Still trembling from the nightmare, I rolled away from the dead
campfire and stood, shaking snow clumps from my hair. Pulling my cloak tighter
around myself, I went searching for Ash.

I didn’t have to look far. He stood outside in the clearing,
snow flurries drifting around him, his sword glowing blue against the white.
From the sweeping footprints in the snow, I knew he’d been practicing sword
drills, but now he stood motionless, his back to me, gazing toward the entrance
of the gully.

I pulled up my hood and walked out, tromping through the deep
snow until I stood beside him. He acknowledged me with a flick of his eyes, but
otherwise didn’t move, his gaze riveted to the edge of the canyon.

“They’re coming,” he murmured.

A group of horses appeared then, seeming to materialize out of
the falling snow, pure white and blue-eyed, trotting a few inches above the
ground. Atop them sat Winter knights in icy blue-and-black armor, their gazes
cold beneath their snarling wolf helms.

Ash stepped forward, very subtly moving in front of me as the
knights swept up, horses snorting small geysers from flared nostrils. “Prince
Ash,” one knight said formally, bowing in the saddle. “Her majesty the queen has
been informed of your return and has sent us to escort you and the half-breed
back to the palace.”

I bristled at the term
half-breed
but Ash didn’t seem terribly fazed by their arrival.

“I don’t need an escort,” he said in a bored voice. “Return to
the palace and tell Queen Mab I will arrive shortly. I’m fairly capable of
handling the half-breed by myself.”

I cringed at his tone. He was back to being Prince Ash, third
son of the Unseelie Court, dangerous, cold and heartless. The knights didn’t
seem at all surprised, which somehow made me even more apprehensive. This cold,
hostile prince was the Ash they were used to.

“I’m afraid the queen insists, Your Highness,” the first one
replied, unapologetic. “By order of Queen Mab, you and the half-breed will come
with us to the Winter Court. She is rather impatient for your arrival.”

Ash sighed.

“Very well,” he muttered, not even looking at me as he swung
into an empty saddle. Before I could protest, another knight reached down and
pulled me up in front of him. “Let’s get this over with.”

We rode for several silent hours. The knights did not speak to
me, Ash or each other, and the horse’s hooves made no sound as they galloped
over the snow. Ash didn’t even look in my direction; his face remained blank and
cold throughout the ride.

Completely ignored, I was left to my own thoughts, which were
dark and growing more disturbing the farther we went. I missed home. I was
terrified of meeting Queen Mab. And Ash had turned into someone cold and
unfamiliar. I replayed our last kiss in my mind, clinging to it like a life vest
in a raging sea. Had I imagined his feelings for me, misread his intentions?
What if everything he’d said was just a ploy, a scheme to get me to Tir Na Nog
and the queen?

No, I couldn’t believe that. The emotion on his face that night
was real. I had to believe that he cared, I had to believe in him, or I would go
crazy.

Night was falling and a huge frozen moon was peeking over the
tops of the trees when we came to a vast, icy lake. Jagged ice floes crinkled
against one another near the shoreline, and fog writhed along the surface of the
water. A long wooden dock stretched out toward the middle of the lake, vanishing
into the hanging mist.

As I wondered how close we were to the Winter Court, the
knights abruptly steered their horses onto the rickety dock and rode down single
file, the dark waters of the lake lapping the posts beneath us. I squinted and
peered through the fog, wondering if the Winter Court was on an island in the
center.