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By the time we reached the center of camp, six Thornguards were waiting for us, standing in formation with their weapons drawn. Puck and I approached calmly and stopped at the edge of the firelight. For a moment, nobody moved.
“Prince Ash.” The lead Thornguard smiled faintly—difficult to see because he had no lips, just a thin, ragged slash where his mouth would be—and stepped forward. His eyes, a glazed, glassy blue, flicked back and forth between us. “And Robin Goodfellow. What a surprise to find you here. We’re honored, aren’t we, boys?” Though his voice turned mocking, it was still hopeful, as he gestured toward the forest behind us. “News of our deeds must have spread far and wide, for the mighty Winter prince and the Summer Court jester to track us down.”
“Not really.” Puck smirked at him. “We were just in the area.”
His smile faltered, but I stepped forward before he could say anything more. “You attacked the Iron Kingdom,” I said as his attention snapped to me. “You led an assault on the Iron Queen, attempting to end her life. Before I kill you, I want to know why. The war is over. The Iron Realm is no longer a threat, and the courts are at peace. Why would you jeopardize that?”
For a moment, the Thornguard stared at me, his eyes and face completely blank. Then, the thin mouth twisted into a sneer. “Why not?” He shrugged, and motioned to the surrounding camp. “Look at us, prince,” he spat bitterly. “We have nothing to live for. Rowan is dead. The Iron King is dead. We can’t return to Winter, and we can’t survive in the Iron Realm. Where do we go now? There’s nowhere that would take us back.”
His tale sounded eerily familiar, much like my own; banished from my own court, yet unable to set foot in the Iron Realm.
“The only thing left was revenge,” the Thornguard went on, gesturing angrily to his own face. “Kill every Iron bastard that did this to us, starting with their half-breed queen. We gave it our best shot, even made it as far as the throne room, but the little bitch was stronger than we realized. We were driven back at the last minute.” His chin rose in a defiant gesture. “Though we did manage to kill several of her knights, even the ones that came after us.”
“You missed one,” I said quietly, and his eyebrows rose. “The one you left alive told us where you were and what you had done. You should’ve made sure all your opponents were dead before moving on. A beginner’s mistake, I’m afraid.”
“Oh? Well, I’ll be sure to remember that, next time.” He smirked at me then, twisted and bitter. “So, tell me, Ash,” he went on, “did you two have a nice little heart-to-heart before he died? Since you’re both so smitten with the new Iron Queen, so very eager to be with her. Did he tell you the secret of becoming like them?”
I regarded the Thornguard coldly. His sneer widened. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about, Ash. We’ve all heard the story, haven’t we, boys? The mighty Winter prince, pining for his lost queen, promises he’ll find a way to be with her in Iron Realm. How very touching.” He snorted and leaned forward so that the firelight washed over his burned, ruined face. In the dim light, it was like gazing at a corpse.
“Take a good look, your highness,” he hissed, baring rotten, yellow teeth. His stench washed over me, and I fought the urge to step back. “Take a good look around, at all of us. This is what happens to our people in the Iron Realm. We thought we could be like them. We thought we’d found a way to live with iron, to not fade away when humans stopped believing. Now look at us.” His dead, ravaged face twisted in a snarl. “We’re monsters, just like them. The Iron fey are a blight and a plague on the Nevernever, and we’re going to kill as many as we can in the time we have left. Including their queen, and any sympathizers to the Iron Realm. If we can start another war with the Iron fey, and their kingdom is destroyed for good, everything we endured will be worth it.”
I narrowed my gaze, imagining another war with the Iron fey, another season of killing and blood and death, with Meghan caught in the center. “You’re sadly mistaken if you think I’m going to let that happen.”
The Thornguard shook his head, moving back a pace and drawing his sword. “You should’ve joined us, Ash,” he said regretfully, as the others shifted and raised their weapons. “You could’ve fought your way to the throne room and put your blade through the Iron Queen’s heart. Destroyed your weakness, as a Winter prince should have done. But you had to fall in love with her, didn’t you? And now you’re lost to the Iron Realm, same as us.” He gave me an appraising look. “We’re not really that different, after all.”
Puck sighed very loudly. “So, are you guys going to talk us to death?” he wondered, and the Thornguard glared at him. “Or are we actually going to get on with this?”
The leader flourished his weapon, the black, serrated blade glinting in the flames. Around him, the rest of the Thornguards did the same. “Expect no mercy from us, your highness,” he warned as the squad began to close in. “You’re no longer our prince, and we’re no longer part of the Winter Court. Everything we believed in is dead.”
Puck grinned viciously and turned so that we stood back-to-back against the approaching guards. I raised my sword and drew glamour from the air, letting the cold power of Winter swirl within. And I smiled.
“Mercy is for the weak,” I told the Thornguards, seeing them for what they really were: abominations to be cut down, destroyed. “Let me show you how much of an Unseelie I still am.”
The Thornguards attacked with howling battle cries, coming from all directions. I parried one slash and swiped at another, leaping back to avoid a third. Behind me, Puck whooped in unrestrained glee, the clash of his daggers ringing in my ears as he danced around his opponents. They followed, savage and unrelenting. Rowan’s elite guards were dangerous and well trained, but I had been part of the Winter Court for a very long time, observing their strengths and weaknesses, and knew their fatal flaws.
The Thornguards were formidable as a unit, using group tactics to threaten and harry, much like a pack of wolves. But that was their greatest failing as well. Single them out, and they fell apart. Surrounded by a trio of Thornguards, I leaped back and flung a hail of stinging ice shards into their midst, catching two guards in the deadly arc. They flinched for a brief second, and the third leaped forward, alone, meeting my sword as it cut across his neck. The warrior frayed apart, black armor splitting open as dark brambles erupted from the spot where he died. As with all fey, death returned him to the Nevernever, and he simply ceased to exist.
“Duck, ice-boy!” Puck yelped behind me, and I did, feeling a Thornguard blade hiss overhead. I turned and stabbed the warrior through the chest as Puck hurled a dagger into another rushing me from behind. More brambles spread across the stones.
Now there were only three Thornguards left. Puck and I still stood back-to-back, guarding each other’s flanks, moving in perfect unison. “You know,” Puck said, panting slightly, “this reminds me of the time we were underground and stumbled into that Duergar city. Remember that, ice-boy?”
I parried a blow to my ribs and returned with a swipe to my opponent’s head, forcing him back a step. “Stop talking and keep fighting, Goodfellow.”
“Yeah, I think you said that to me then, too.”
I blocked a stab, lunged forward and ripped my blade across the guard’s throat, just as Puck danced within reach of his opponent and jabbed his knife between his ribs. Both warriors split apart, their weapons clanging against the rocks as they died. As they fell, the last Thornguard, the leader who’d taunted me before the battle, turned to flee.
I raised my arm, glamour swirling around me, and flung a trio of ice daggers at the warrior’s retreating back. They struck with muffled thunks, and the Thornguard gasped, pitching forward. Staggering to his knees, he looked up as I stepped around to face him, his glassy blue eyes filled with pain and hate.
“Guess I was wrong,” he panted, his ruined mouth twisted in a last defiant sneer. “You are still Unseelie, through and through.” He laughed, but it came out as a choked cough. “Well, what are you waiting for, your highness? Get on with it.”
“You know I won’t spare you.” I let the emptiness of the Winter Court spread through me, freezing any emotion, stifling any thoughts of kindness or mercy. “You tried to kill Meghan, and if I let you go, you will continue to bring harm to her realm. I can’t allow that. Unless you swear to me, on this spot, that you will abandon your quest to harm the Iron Queen, her subjects and her kingdom. Give me that vow, and I’ll let you live.”
The Thornguard gazed at me a moment, then choked another laugh. “And where would I go?” He sneered, as Puck walked up behind him, watching solemnly. “Who would take me back, looking like this? Mab? Oberon? Your little half-breed queen?” He coughed and spat on the stones between us, the spittle a dark red. “No, your highness. If you let me go, I will find my way back to the Iron Queen, and I will put a sword in her heart and laugh as they cut me down for it. And if I somehow survive, I will destroy every Iron faery I come across, tear them limb from limb, until the land is stained with their tainted blood, and I won’t stop until every one of them lies de—”
He got no further, as my blade slashed across his neck and severed his head from his body.
Puck sighed as brambles erupted from the dead Thornguard, crooked fingers clawing at the sky. “Yeah, that went about as well as I expected.” He wiped his daggers on his pants and looked back at the tower, at the new brambles growing around the base. “You think any more are hanging around?”
“No.” I sheathed my sword and turned from my former Unseelie brethren. “They knew they were dying. They had no reason to hide.”
“Can’t reason with madmen, I guess.” Wrinkling his nose, Puck sheathed his weapons, shaking his head. “Nice to know they were just as delusional as before, just with a different flavor of crazy.”
Delusional? I blinked as the leader’s words came back to me, mocking and ominous. You’re lost to the Iron Realm, same as us. We’re not really that different, after all.
Were the Thornguards that delusional? They had only wanted what I did: a way to overcome the effects of iron. They’d bargained their lives away, endured torment no normal faery could withstand, hoping to conquer our eternal weakness. Hoping to live in the Iron Realm.
Wasn’t I doing the same now, wishing for the impossible?
“You’ve got your brooding face on again, ice-boy.” Puck squinted at me. “And I can see your brain going a mile a minute. What are you thinking of?”
I shook my head. “Nothing important.” Spinning on a heel, I turned and walked away, back toward the edge of the trees. Puck started to protest, but I hurried on, unwilling to think about it any longer. “We’ve wasted enough time here, and this isn’t getting us any closer to the seer. Let’s go.”
He jogged after me. I hoped he would be quiet, leave me in peace, but of course I had only a few moments of silence before he opened his mouth. “Hey, you never answered my question, prince,” he said, kicking a pebble over the stones, watching it bounce toward the forest. “What were we looking for in that underground city, anyway? A necklace? A mirror?”
“A dagger,” I muttered.
“Aha! So you do remember, after all!”
I glared at him. He grinned cheekily. “Just checking, ice-boy. Wouldn’t want you to forget all the good times we had. Hey, whatever happened to that thing, anyway? I seem to recall it was a really nice piece of work.”
A numbness spread through my chest, and my voice went very, very soft. “I gave it to Ariella.”
“… oh,” Puck murmured.
And said nothing after that.
Grimalkin was waiting for us atop a broken limb at the edge of the tree line, washing his paw with exaggerated nonchalance. “That took longer than I expected.” He yawned as we came up. “I was wondering if I should take a nap, waiting for you.” Giving his paw a final lick, he looked down at us, narrowing his golden eyes. “Anyway, if you two are quite finished, we can move on.”
“Did you know about the Thornguards?” I asked. “And their attack on the Iron Kingdom?”
Grimalkin snorted. Flicking his tail, the cat rose and sauntered along the splintered branch with no explanation. Hopping lightly to an overhead limb, he vanished into the leaves without looking back, leaving Puck and me hurrying to catch up.
CHAPTER THREE
ARIELLA TULARYN
The wyldwood stretched on, dark, tangled and endless. I didn’t count the times the light rose and fell, because the farther we went into the untamed wilderness, the wilder and more unpredictable it became. Grimalkin took us through a glen where the trees slowly followed us until we looked back, freezing them in place, only to have them creep forward again when our backs were turned. We hiked up an enormous, moss-covered hill, only to discover that the “hill” was actually the body of a sleeping giant as it raised a massive hand to scratch the itch on its cheek. We crossed a rolling, windy plain where herds of wild horses stared at us with cold intelligence, their furtive conversations blown away in the wind. During this time, Puck and I didn’t talk, or if we did, it was just useless banter, threats, insults and the like. Fighting with Robin Goodfellow, side by side against the Thornguards, had brought up memories I did not wish to deal with now, ones that were frozen deep inside, memories I couldn’t thaw out for fear of the pain. I didn’t want to remember the hunts, the challenges, the times we got ourselves neck-deep in trouble and had to fight our way out. I didn’t want to remember the laughter, the easy camaraderie, between myself and my once-closest friend. Because remembering Puck as something more than a rival only reminded me of my vow, the one spoken in a flash of despair and rage, the one that had turned us into bitter enemies for years to come.
And, of course, I couldn’t think of Puck that way without remembering … her.
ARIELLA. THE ONLY DAUGHTER of the Ice Baron of Glassbarrow, Ariella first came to the Unseelie Court during winter equinox, when Mab was hosting that year’s Elysium. As tradition dictated, twice a mortal year, the courts of Summer and Winter would meet to discuss politics, sign new treaties, and basically agree to play nice for another season. Or at least to refrain from declaring all-out war on the other court. It bored me to tears, but as a Winter prince and the son of Queen Mab, my presence was required, and I had learned to dance the dance and be a good little court monkey.
It was not yet twilight, and as such the Summer Court had not yet arrived. As Mab disapproved of my locking myself in my room until Elysium began, I was in a dark corner of the courtyard, rereading a book from my collection of mortal authors and poets. If anyone asked, I was overseeing the arrival of the last of the guests, but mostly I was avoiding Rowan and the current flock of nobles who would surround me with coy, flattering, razor-sharp smiles. Their voices would be the softest purr, the sweetest song, as they offered me favors covered in honey and nectar but with a core of vilest poison. I was a prince, after all, the youngest and most favored of Mab, at least according to some. I suppose the common belief was that I was more naive, easier to trap, perhaps. I didn’t know the dance as well as Rowan or Sage, who were at court far more frequently. But I was a true son of Winter, and knew the twisted steps of court better than most. And those who sought to entrap me in a web of honey and favors soon found themselves tangled in their own dark promises.
I knew the dance. I just didn’t revel in it.
Which was why I was leaning against an ice-covered wall with Musashi’s The Five Rings, only half-aware of the bustle of carriages pulling up to the gates and the Winter gentry stepping out into the snow. Most of them I knew, or had seen before. The Lady Snowfire, dressed in a gown of sparkling icicles that chimed musically as she walked. The new duke of Frostfell—having disposed of the old duke by getting him exiled to the mortal realm—glided through the snow trailed by his goblin slaves. The Baroness of the Icebound Heart gave me a chilly nod as she strode past, her two snow leopards hissing and snarling at the ends of their silver chains.
And then, she walked in.
I didn’t know her, and that in itself piqued my curiosity. None could argue her beauty: long silver hair, pale skin, a willowy body that was delicate and strong at the same time. But, all of our kind are, if not very attractive, at least striking in some way. Being surrounded by beauty tends to dull your appreciation of it, especially if the beauty only hides the cruelty beneath. It wasn’t her looks that caught my eye that day, but the way she gazed at the Winter palace, awe written plainly on her lovely features. It was an emotion that didn’t belong; most would see it as a weakness, something to be exploited. The nobles could sense emotion like a shark smelled blood; they would devour her before the day was out.
A part of me told me not to care, that it was everyone for themselves in the Winter Court, and that was how it always had been. That this girl, new and untried, would take the attention off me for once. Despite that voice, I found myself intrigued.
Snapping shut the book, I started toward her.
She was turning in slow circles when I walked up, and jumped when we came face-to-face. “Oh, pardon me!” Her voice was clear and light, like tiny bells. “I didn’t see you standing there.”
“Are you lost?” It wasn’t so much a question, rather I was testing her, probing her defenses. Admitting you were lost was a grave mistake in the Winter Court; you never wanted to be caught unaware by anyone. It annoyed me a bit that the first thing I fell back on was checking for weakness, poking at chinks in her armor. But in the Unseelie Court, you could never be too careful.
She blinked at the question and took a step back, seeming to see me for the first time. Clear, blue-green eyes rose to meet my gaze, and I made the mistake of looking right at her.
Her gaze captured mine, drawing me in, and I was suddenly drowning. Flecks of silver dotted her irises like tiny stars, as if I was staring at a whole universe in her eyes. Brilliant emotion gazed out at me, pure and clean and untainted by the darkness of the Unseelie Court.
For a moment, we just stared at each other, neither willing to look away.
Until I realized what I was doing and turned, pretending to watch another carriage pull up to the gates, furious with myself for dropping my guard. For a brief moment, I wondered if that had been her ploy all along—pretend to be naive and innocent, and lure unsuspecting princes right into her clutches. Unorthodox, but effective.
Fortunately, it seemed the girl was just as shaken as I was. “No, I’m not lost,” she said a little breathlessly. Another mistake, but I wasn’t keeping track anymore. “It’s just … I mean … I’ve never been here, is all.” She cleared her throat and straightened, seeming to regain her composure. “I am Ariella Tularyn of Glassbarrow,” she announced regally, “and I am here on behalf of my father, the Duke of Glassbarrow. He is indisposed at the moment and sends his apologies for not being able to attend.”
I’d heard about that. Apparently, the duke had run into some trouble while hunting ice wyrms in the mountains of his territory. The court had been abuzz with who would come to represent him, as he was rumored to have only one daughter, who never left the estate.
So, this was she.
Ariella smiled again, nervously brushing her hair back, and instantly lost her regal bearing. “I said that correctly, didn’t I?” she asked without a trace of guile. “That was the proper greeting, wasn’t it? I’m so new at this. I’ve never been to court before, and I don’t want to upset the queen.”
Right then, I decided. This girl needed an escort, someone to show her the ways of Winter, otherwise the nobles were going to chew her up and spit her out. The thought of this girl, broken and bitter, her eyes frozen in wary contempt, filled me with a strange protectiveness I couldn’t explain. If anyone wanted to toy with Ariella Tularyn, they would have to go through me first. And I was no wide-eyed newcomer when it came to the Unseelie Court.
“Come on, then,” I said, offering her my arm, which seemed to surprise her, but she took it nonetheless. “I’ll introduce you.”
Her brilliant smile was all the thanks I needed.
FROM THAT MOMENT ON, I continued to find excuses to be around the Duke of Glassbarrow’s daughter. I took secret hunting trips to the Glassbarrow Mountains, enticing her away. I made sure Mab requested both the duke and Ariella’s presence at Elysium. I stole every spare moment I could to be with her, until the day came when I finally convinced her to leave the duke’s estate completely and live at the palace. Duke Glassbarrow was livid, but I was the Winter prince, and he eventually buckled under the threat of banishment or death.
Rumors flew, of course. As part of the royal family, my life was under constant scrutiny, even when there was nothing interesting about it. When it came to my spending so much time with a young duchess-to-be … well, you’d think Mab and Oberon had decided to marry, there was so much speculation. Prince Ash was obsessed, Prince Ash had found a new plaything and, worst of all, Prince Ash was in love. I didn’t care. When I was with Ariella, I could forget the court, my responsibilities, everything. When I was with her, I didn’t have to worry about keeping my guard up, constantly watching my back or my words. Ariella didn’t care about the games of the Winter Court, something that fascinated me. Was I in love? I didn’t know. Love was such an unknown concept, something that everyone cautioned against. Love was for mortals and weak Summer fey, it had no place in the life of an Unseelie prince. None of this swayed me. All I knew was, when we were together, I could leave behind the intrigues and pitfalls of court and just be.
It was high summer when the last person I wanted to find out about us did so anyway.
Ariella and I hunted often. It was a chance to get away from the court and be alone together, without the whispers and the stares and the snide, pitying looks. She was an excellent huntress, and our outings usually turned into friendly competitions, seeing whose arrow could drop our quarry first. I lost as often as I won, which filled me with an odd sort of pride. I knew my skill was considerable; that Ariella could match it brought some excitement back into the hunt and forced me to concentrate.
We were in the wyldwood that day, resting after a successful hunt and just enjoying each other’s company. We stood on the banks of a clear green pond, my arms around her waist and her head leaning against my chest, watching two piskies tease an enormous carp by darting close to the surface, then zipping away as the fish lunged for them. It was getting late, but we were loath to go back to court; Winter fey tended to be restless and irritable during the summer months, which led to a great amount of squabbling and backbiting. Here in the wyldwood, it was still and quiet, and only the most desperate or savage of wild fey would consider taking on two powerful Unseelie.
Abruptly, the peaceful silence was interrupted.
“There you are! Jeez, ice-boy, I’ve been looking for you forever. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were avoiding me.”
I winced. Or him, of course. Nothing was sacred to him.
Ariella jerked in surprise. “Who—” She tried looking back, only to find I wasn’t moving or letting go. Groaning, I buried my face in her hair. “Don’t turn around,” I muttered. “Don’t answer him, and maybe he’ll go away.”
“Hah, as if that ever works.” The speaker moved closer, until I could see him from the corner of my eye, arms crossed over a bare chest, perpetual smirk stretching his face. “You know, if you keep ignoring me, ice-boy, I’m just going to push you into the pond.”
I released Ariella and stepped back from the edge, glaring at Puck as he retreated with a cheerful grin. “What do you want, Goodfellow?”
“So nice to see you as well, prince.” Puck stuck his tongue out, unfazed by my glare. “Guess the next time I find a juicy rumor, I’ll just keep it to myself. I thought you might want to check out these coatl sightings in Mexico City, but I see you’re otherwise occupied.”
“Goodfellow?” Ariella repeated, staring at Puck with unabashed curiosity. “Robin Goodfellow? It is you, isn’t it? The Puck?”
Puck grinned widely and bowed. “The one and only,” he stated grandly as I felt the situation sliding further from my control. “And who might you be, lady who has stolen all of ice-boy’s attention?” Before Ariella could answer, he sniffed and turned to me, pouting. “Prince, I’m hurt. After all we’ve been through, you could at least introduce me to your new lady friend.”
“This is Ariella Tularyn,” I introduced, refusing to rise to Puck’s goading. “Ariella, this is Robin Goodfellow, who despite my best efforts, insists on hanging around when he isn’t wanted.”
“You wound me, prince.” Puck looked anything but hurt, and I crossed my arms. “Um, I guess you’re still mad about that whole harpy fiasco. I swear, I thought those caves were empty.”
“How did you overlook a hundred harpies nesting in that cave? Did the giant carpet of bones not tip you off?”
“Oh, sure, complain now. But we found the trod to Athens, didn’t we?”
Ariella blinked, looking back and forth between us. “Wait, wait,” she said, holding up her hands. “You two know each other? Traveled together?” She frowned and looked at us both. “Are you friends?”
I snorted. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“Oh, best friends, lady,” Puck said at the same time, giving her a wink. “Ice-boy will deny it until the mountains crumble, but you know how hard it is for him to admit his feelings, right?”
“But, you’re Summer.” Ariella glanced back at me, confused. “Robin Goodfellow is part of the Seelie Court, right? Isn’t it against the law to conspire with Summer fey?”
“Conspire?” Puck grinned, looking at me. “That’s a nasty word. We don’t conspire, do we, prince?”
“Puck.” I sighed. “Shut up.” Turning away from him, I drew Ariella close, ignoring the way Puck’s eyes lit up gleefully. “The answer to your question is yes,” I told her quietly. “It is against the law. And within the borders of Arcadia and Tir Na Nog, Robin Goodfellow and I are enemies. We will both readily admit that.” I shot Puck a look, and he nodded, still grinning.
“But,” I continued, “here in the wyldwood, the laws, though they’re not completely flexible, don’t extend quite as far. Puck and I have been known to … bend the rules a little. Not always, and not often. But, he’s the only one that can keep up with me, and the only one who doesn’t care that I’m part of the Winter Court.”
Ariella pulled back and looked at me, her sea-green eyes intense. “So, you’re telling me that you, a prince of the Unseelie Court, are admitting to breaking the law and conspiring with the Winter Court’s sworn enemy on a regular basis?”
I held my breath. Though I’d known this day would come, I’d been hoping to bring up my … association … with Puck on my own terms. That the Summer Court prankster had forced the issue wasn’t surprising, but what I feared most was being forced to choose where my loyalties lay. Ariella was still Unseelie, brought up to hate Summer and everything in it. If she decided Puck was the enemy and that we had no business involving him in anything that wasn’t a fight to the death … what would I do then?
I sighed inwardly. I was a prince of the Unseelie Court. I would always side with my court and kith, there was no question in my mind. If it came down to that choice, I would turn my back on Puck, turn my back on our years of camaraderie, and choose Winter. But that’s not to say it wouldn’t be hard.
