The Iron Legends: Winter's Passage\Summer's Crossing\Iron's Prophecy (6 page)

The mist cleared away for just a moment, and I saw the edge of
the dock, dropping away into dark, murky lake water. The horses broke into a
trot, then a full gallop, snorting eagerly, as the end of the dock rushed at us
with terrifying speed.

I closed my eyes and the horses leaped.

We hit the water with a loud splash and sank quickly into the
icy depths. The horse didn’t even try to resurface, and the knight’s grip was
firm, so I couldn’t kick away. I held my breath and fought down panic as we
dropped deeper and deeper into the frigid waters.

Then, suddenly, we resurfaced, bursting out with the same noisy
splash, sending water flying. Gasping, I rubbed my eyes and looked around,
confused and disoriented. I didn’t recall the horse swimming back up. Where were
we, anyway?

My gaze focused, my breath caught and I forgot about everything
else.

A massive underground city loomed before me, lit up with
millions of tiny lights, gleaming yellow, blue and green like a blanket of
stars. From where we floated in the black waters of the lake, I could see large
stone buildings, streets winding upward in a spiral pattern and ice covering
everything. The cavern above soared into darkness, farther than I could see, and
the twinkling lights made the entire city glow with hazy etherealness.

At the top of a hill, casting its shadow over everything, an
enormous, ice-covered palace stood proudly against the black. I shivered, and
the knight behind me spoke for the first time.

“Welcome to Tir Na Nog.”

I glanced at Ash and finally caught his gaze. For a moment, the
Unseelie prince looked torn, balanced between emotion and duty, his eyes begging
forgiveness. But a half second later he turned away, and his face shut into that
blank mask once more.

We rode through the snow-laced streets toward the palace, and
the denizens of the Unseelie Court watched us pass with glowing, inhuman eyes.
We stopped at the palace doors, where a pair of monstrous ogres glared
menacingly, drool dripping from their tusks, but let us through without a
word.

Even within the palace, the rooms and hallways were coated with
frost and translucent, crystal ice in various colors; it was possibly colder
inside than it was outside. More Unseelie roamed the corridors: goblins, hags,
redcaps, all watching me with hungry, evil grins. But since I was flanked by a
group of stone-faced knights and one lethally calm Winter prince, none dared do
more than leer at me.

The knights escorted us to a pair of soaring double doors
carved with the images of frozen trees. If you looked closely, you could almost
see faces peering at you through the branches, but if you blinked or looked away
they would be gone. A chill wafted out from between the cracks, colder than I
thought possible, even in this palace of ice. It brushed across my skin and tiny
needles of cold stabbed into me. I shivered and stepped back.

The knights, I realized, were now standing at attention along
the corridor, gazing straight ahead, paying us no attention. As I rubbed my
stinging arm, Ash stepped close, not touching me, but close enough to make my
heart beat faster. With his back to the knights, he put a hand on the door and
paused, as if gathering his resolve.

“This is the throne room,” he murmured in a low voice. “Queen
Mab is on the other side. Are you ready?”

I wasn’t, really, but nodded, anyway. “Let’s do this,” I
whispered, and Ash pushed open the door.

A blast of that same cold, stinging air hit my face as we went
through, nearly taking my breath away. The room beyond was painfully cold; ice
columns held up the ceiling, and the floor was slick and frozen. In the center
of the room, surrounded by pale, aloof Winter gentry and pet goblins, the queen
of the Unseelie Court waited for us.

Queen Mab sat atop her throne of ice, regal, beautiful and
terrifying. Her skin was paler than snow, her blue-black hair coiled elegantly
atop her head, held in place with icy needles. She wore a cloak of white fur and
held a crystal goblet in one delicate, long-fingered hand. Her eyes, black and
as depthless as space, rose slowly, capturing me in a piercing stare. Above the
furred ruff, bloodred lips curled into a slow smile.

“Meghan Chase,” Queen Mab purred. “Welcome to the Winter Court.
Please, make yourself comfortable. I’m afraid you could be here a long, long
time.”

“I Dare You”

Summer’s Crossing

Contents

Chapter
One

Chapter
Two

Chapter
Three

Chapter
Four

Chapter
Five

Chapter
Six

Chapter One

AND AS I AM AN HONEST PUCK

Names.

What’s in a name, really? I mean, besides a bunch of letters or
sounds strung together to make a word. Does a rose by any other name really
smell as sweet? Would the most famous love story in the world be as poignant if
it was called
Romeo and Gertrude?
Why is what we
call ourselves so important?

Heh, sorry, I don’t usually get philosophical. I’ve just been
wondering lately. Names are, of course, very important to my kind. Me, I have so
many, I can’t even remember them all. None of them are my True Name, of course.
No one has ever spoken my real name out loud, not once, despite all the titles
and nicknames and myths I’ve collected for myself over the years. No one has
ever come close to getting it right.

Curious, are you? Wanna know my True Name? Okay, listen up,
I’ve never told anyone before. My True Name is…

Hahahaha! You really thought I would tell you? Really? Oh, I
kill me. But, like I said, names are important to us. For one thing, they tie us
to this world; they ground us in reality somewhat. If you know your True
Name—not everyone in our world finds it—you’re more “real” than if you don’t
know who you are. And for a race that has a tendency to fade away if we’re
forgotten, that’s kind of a big deal.

My name, one of many, is Robin Goodfellow.

You may have heard of me.

* * *

Once upon a time, I had two close friends. Shocking, I
know, given my natural charm, but there are those who just don’t appreciate my
brilliance. We weren’t supposed to be friends, the three of us, or even friendly
with each other. I was part of the Seelie Court, and they…weren’t. But I’d never
been one for following the rules, and who knew Queen Mab’s youngest son could be
such a rebel, as well? And Ariella… I’d known Ash a long time before Ariella
came into the picture, but I never begrudged her presence. She was the buffer
between us; the one who could calm Ash when he slipped too far toward his
ruthless Unseelie nature, or advised caution when one of my plans seemed a
little…impulsive. Once upon a time, we were inseparable.

Once upon a time, I did something stupid. And lost them both in
the process.

Which brings us to…now. Today. Where, once more, it was me and
my former best friend, getting ready to head off on another adventure. Just like
old times.

Except, he still hadn’t forgiven me for what had happened all
those years ago. And he hadn’t really invited me along, either. I sort
of…invited myself.

But if I made a habit of waiting for an invitation, I’d never
get to go anywhere.

“So,” I said brightly, falling into step behind the brooding
prince. “Grimalkin. We’re going to find him, right?”

“Yes.”

“Any idea where he is?”

“No.”

“Any idea where to start looking?”

“No.”

“You do realize that doesn’t constitute much of a plan, right
ice-boy?”

He turned to glare at me, which I considered a small triumph.
Ash usually ignored my goading. Anytime I could poke through his icy
indifference was a victory. Of course, when poking the Winter prince, one had to
proceed with caution. There was a fine line between irritation and having
icicles hurled at your face.

He glared at me a moment longer, then sighed, raking a hand
through his hair—a sure sign that he was frustrated. “Do you have any
suggestions, Goodfellow?” he muttered, sounding reluctant to even ask. And for
just a moment, I saw how lost he was, how uncertain of the future and what lay
ahead. Anyone else wouldn’t have seen it, but I knew Ash. I could always catch
those tiny flashes of emotion, no matter how well he hid them. It almost made me
feel sorry for him.

Almost.

I grinned disarmingly. “What? Are you actually asking for my
opinion, ice-boy?” I taunted, and that doubt vanished, replaced by annoyance.
“Well,” I went on, leaning back against a tree trunk, “since you asked, we might
want to check if anyone around here owes him a favor.”

“That narrows things down,” Ash said sarcastically. I rolled my
eyes, but he did have a point. If we started naming everyone that might owe our
feline friend a favor, the list would fill several books.

“Well, then.” I crossed my arms. “If you have a better
suggestion, Prince, I’d love to hear it.”

Before he could answer, a ripple of glamour shivered through
the air. Glitter and streamers of light swirled around us, and a chorus of tiny
voices sang out a single note. I winced, knowing there was only one person who
thought a normal entrance, like walking through a door, wasn’t good enough for
her; she had to announce her presence with sparkle and glitter and St. Peter’s
choir.

“Darlings!”

Sometimes, it sucks being right all the time.

“Leanansidhe,” Ash grumbled, sounding about as thrilled as I
felt as the Queen of the Exiles stepped out of the glitter and light and smiled
down at us. She looked like she was going to a party where the theme was Most
Sparkly Evening Gown, or maybe Quickest Way to Blind Someone. She paused a
moment, striking a dramatic pose for her sadly unimpressed audience, before
waving her hand and dispersing with the fireworks.

“Lea,” I echoed, smirking at her. “This is a shock. To what do
we owe the pleasure of your company, away from the Between and all?”

“Puck, darling.” Leanansidhe gave me a smile that was about as
welcoming as a viper eyeing a mouse. “Why am I not surprised to see you here? It
seems I just got rid of you, pet, and here you are again.”

“That’s me.” I raised my chin. “The bad penny that always pops
up. But you didn’t answer my question. What do you want, Lea?”

“From you? Nothing, darling.” Leanansidhe turned to Ash, and he
stiffened. “Ash, darling,” she purred. “You
are
a
trouper, aren’t you, pet? I was certain, after you made your knightly oath, that
you and the girl would go all Romeo and Juliet on me. But you survived the final
battle, after all. Bravo, pet, bravo.”

I snorted. “So what am I, chopped liver?”

Leanansidhe shot me an annoyed glance. “No, darling.” She
sighed. “But the Winter prince and I have unfinished business, or didn’t he tell
you?” She smiled and looked at Ash again. “He owes me a favor—a rather large
favor—for helping him out, and I have come to collect.”

A bargain with the Exile Queen? For a second, I wasn’t sure I’d
heard right. “Ice-boy.” I shook my head, exasperated. “Really? You made a deal
with
her?
Are you crazy? You, of all people, should
know better.”

“It was for Meghan.” Ash’s voice was low, defensive. “I needed
her help.” He looked at Leanansidhe, quietly pleading. “Can this not wait?” he
asked in a calm voice, and the question surprised me. Ash rarely made deals, but
when he did, he was religious about upholding them. It was a point of personal
honor, I guessed, to keep his bargains without fail, without complaint, even if
he’d managed to get the bad end of one. This was the very first time I’d heard
him ask for more time, the first I’d heard him plead for anything.

But he’d find no sympathy with the Exile Queen. I could’ve told
him that. “No, darling,” Leanansidhe said briskly. “I’m afraid it cannot. I know
you and Goodfellow are about to go tromping off after Grimalkin, and that, I
fear, might take a long time. A very long time. Time I do not have. I am calling
in this debt
now,
and you will help me
now
. Besides, darling—” Leanansidhe sniffed, making a
dramatic gesture with a gloved hand “—after you are done with this, I might be
able to help. Finding Grimalkin if he does not wish to be found is a near
impossible task. I could, at least, point you in the right direction.”

Ash sighed, looking impatient, but there was nothing he could
do. Even I couldn’t wiggle my way out of a contract, though if I had to strike a
deal, I always left myself
some
kind of loophole.
You’d get screwed eight ways from Sunday, otherwise. In the courts, the nobles
all loved this game, each one trying to pull a fast one on the other, though
most of them knew better than to make a deal with me anymore. Especially after
the fiasco with Titania and the donkey ears. Being a legend does have its
advantages sometimes.

Ash knew his way around the fey courts, too; he’d grown up
having to watch his back. I was surprised he’d allowed himself to strike a
bargain with Leanansidhe; he should’ve known it would come back to bite him.

As if he sensed what I was thinking, Ash glared at me, proud
and defiant, daring me to say something. He did know, I realized. Mr. Cold, Dark
and Broody might be a lot of things, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew Faery always
came to collect, he knew the dangers of bargaining with a dangerous, exiled
faery queen. But he’d done it anyway, because of her. Because of the girl we
were both crazy for, who was now far away, beyond our reach.

Meghan.

“Fine.” Ash faced the Exile Queen again. “Let’s get this over
with. What do you need, Leanansidhe?”

Leanansidhe preened. “Just a small request, darling.” She
smiled. “A teensy favor, hardly worth mentioning. You’ll be done in no
time.”

Which was Faery speak for “huge, ginormous, dangerous ordeal.”
I frowned, but Leanansidhe continued without looking in my direction.

“I’m afraid I’ve lost something,” she continued with a
heartfelt sigh. “Something I prize most dearly. Something that cannot be
replaced. I would like you to get it back.”

“Lost?” I broke in. “Lost how? Lost like you dropped it down
the sink, or lost like it walked out the door and ran off into the woods?”

Leanansidhe pursed her lips and shot me a glance. “Puck,
darling, I don’t mean to sound rude, but why are you still here? I made a
bargain with the Winter prince, and it does not involve you in any way.
Shouldn’t you be off annoying Oberon or his basilisk of a wife?”

“Ouch.” I mock grimaced. “Well, it’s nice to feel so wanted.”
The Exile Queen narrowed her eyes, looking a bit more dangerous, and I grinned
back. “Sorry to burst your bubble, Lea, but I was here first. If ice-boy wants
me to leave, he can say so. Otherwise, I’m not going anywhere.”

I wasn’t anyway, and they both knew it, but Leanansidhe looked
at Ash. When he didn’t say anything, she huffed. “You both are impossible,” she
stated, throwing up her hands. “Oh, very well. Stay or go, darling, it makes no
difference to me. In fact…” She stopped then, midgesture, regarding me with a
faint smile that made me nervous. “Now that I think of it, this might be for the
best. Yes, of course. This will work out nicely.”

Ash and I exchanged a glance. “Why do I get the feeling I’m not
going to like what’s coming next?” I muttered. He shook his head, and I sighed.
“Okay, enough dancing around. For the ten-million-dollar question—what exactly
did you lose, Lea?”

“A violin,” Leanansidhe exclaimed, as if that were obvious. “It
is most upsetting, and I have been a broken wreck because of it.” She sniffed,
clutching at her heart. “My favorite violin, stolen right out from under
me.”

“A violin?” I echoed, making a face. “Really? You’re calling in
a favor for that? What, you don’t want to wait until you’ve lost a pipe organ or
something?”

Ash regarded her solemnly. “You want us to find the thief,” he
said, and it wasn’t really a question.

“Well, not really, darling.” Leanansidhe scratched the side of
her face. “I have a good idea who the thief is, and where they took my precious
violin. I simply need you to go there and bring it back.”

“If you know who the thief is, and where they took the violin,
why do you need us?”

Leanansidhe smiled at me. It was a very evil smile, I thought.
“Because, my darling Puck,” she crooned, “my precious violin was stolen by
Titania, your Summer Queen. I need you and the Winter prince to go into the
Seelie Court and steal it back.”

* * *

Oh, fabulous.

“Well,” I said cheerfully, “is that all? Steal something back
from the Queen of the Seelie Court? I was just thinking we needed to go on a
suicide mission, right ice-boy?”

Ash ignored me, typical of him. “
Queen
Titania
has your violin?” he asked, incredulous.
“Are you certain it was her?”

“Quite certain, darling.” Leanansidhe pulled a cigarette flute
out of the air, puffing indignantly. “In fact, this was right after you went
back into the Nevernever. The jealous shrew made quite sure I knew who was
responsible. She
still
believes I stole her wretched
golden mirror, all those years ago, and has never forgiven me for it.” Lea
paused then, and looked right at me. “I do not know how she has come to think
that, pet, do you?”

I blinked innocently. “Why are you looking at me, Lea?” I
asked, batting my eyelashes. “Is this the face of such a dastardly villain?”
Leanansidhe sighed.

“Anyway,” she continued, turning back to Ash, “that is the
situation. And as I cannot go into the courts any longer, I need someone who
can. That’s where you two come in.”

“I cannot just walk into Arcadia,” Ash said. “I will be
trespassing, and by law the Summer King may have me executed if we are
discovered. You know this.”

“I know, darling,” Lea placated. “But I suspect you’ll be able
to come up with something. Especially if you have Master Goodfellow with you.”
She smiled and puffed a smoke rabbit at me. “Unless, of course, he is not up to
the challenge. Unless he’s
afraid
of his terrible
Summer Queen.”

“Oh, please. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” I
told her, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not dumb enough to fall for that, Lea. Who do
you think you’re talking to, anyway?”

“I would think this is right up your alley, darling,” the Exile
Queen returned. “Sneak the Winter prince into Arcadia, right under Titania’s
nose? Steal something from the bitch queen’s room, only to hand it over to her
rival? It has ‘Robin Goodfellow’ written all over it.”