Читать книгу The Iron Warrior - Julie Kagawa - Страница 10
ОглавлениеCRASHING THE UNSEELIE COUNCIL
I stared out the window as the carriage rattled through the streets of Mag Tuiredh, the Victorian steampunk city of the Iron fey. The wide cobblestone streets teemed with faeries, and the dying evening sun glinted off bright metal, copper, wire and clockwork, mostly from the fey themselves. Gremlins skittered over the walls and towers, flashing neon blue grins. A trio of wraiths made of rags and iron cables fluttered across the street, leaving the smell of battery acid in their wake. A green-skinned faery in coattails and a top hat paused at a corner and bowed his head as we passed, a rusty clockwork hound sitting patiently beside him.
Glitch, Meghan’s first lieutenant, sat across from me, the strands of neon lightning in his hair making the walls of the carriage flicker like a strobe light. It was giving me a headache, and I’d already been feeling kinda sick. Between Meghan’s news last night and the nagging dread about where we were going now, I could probably puke with very little effort.
Also, I was still recovering from being run through with a sword. That might’ve had something to do with it.
“Are you well, Prince Ethan?” Glitch asked, regarding me with concern.
I glanced his way, trying not to be sullen. The slight faery lounged in the opposite corner, watching my every move. Like all Gentry, Glitch looked young, no older than me, though I knew he’d been in the Iron Realm since before Meghan became queen. I also knew Meghan put him here to babysit me, and, though it wasn’t his fault, I resented being under the watch of some punky-looking faery with purple plasma-globe hair.
“Yeah.” I sighed, staring out the window again. “I’m fine.” I wanted to tell him not to call me prince, but it would do no good. I was the queen’s brother. Therefore, at least to the faeries of Mag Tuiredh, I was a prince.
Although, where we were headed, I doubted even being the Iron Queen’s brother would do me any good.
Tir Na Nog. The Winter Court, home of Queen Mab and the Unseelie fey. And the last place I wanted to find myself in the Nevernever. All of Faery was dangerous, of course; even Meghan’s kingdom was not completely safe, but it paled in comparison to Mab’s realm. The Iron fey were a weird, quirky, eccentric bunch; They could be annoying, They could be deadly, but from what I’d seen, They wouldn’t rip your face off just for the fun of it. The same could not be said for the Unseelie Court, which boasted entertaining things like goblins, redcaps and ogres. And all the dark, twisted creatures you did not want to meet in a dark alley or under your bed.
You wanted this, I reminded myself. You insisted on coming. You argued with Meghan to be here. This is your own damn fault.
A lump settled in my stomach as I remembered the heated words from this morning and the hasty actions that led to this trip.
* * *
“Sire, you’re not supposed to be up.”
I glared at the faery in the long white coat, wondering if he had been lurking outside my door, waiting to pounce as soon as I got out of bed. It was early afternoon, and I’d already been poked, prodded and fussed over far longer than I thought was necessary. Meghan was off ruling the Iron Realm, so I had been left to the mercy of several attentive but annoying healer fey, who swarmed around me with needles and thermometers, asking multiple times if I was in any pain. My repeated assurances that I was fine seemed only to convince them that I was not. Finally, after deciding for themselves that I was in no danger of dying a second time, the swarm had left me, with firm instructions to stay in bed and not push myself.
Yeah, like that was going to happen.
“I’m fine,” I told this new healer, who arched his bushy eyebrows at me, making me wince. I’m fine seemed to be their code for I’m really feeling quite awful and need immediate medical attention. “Where are my clothes?” I went on, hoping to stall him from calling the rest of the swarm. “I don’t need to rest—I need to talk to my sister. Where is she?”
He gave me a dubious look. I glowered back. Truthfully, I wasn’t feeling the greatest. My legs were shaking, and just standing up was making the room sway, a side effect from being horizontal the past several weeks, I guessed. But I couldn’t lie there like a vegetable while so many things were happening around me. Last night, after Meghan had dropped that bombshell about Keirran, the healer swarm had arrived, preventing me from asking the ten thousand questions swirling through my head. I’d tried waiting until they left to resume talking to my sister, but whatever faery concoction they made me drink must’ve been a sleeping potion of some kind, because the next thing I knew, I was waking up.
I didn’t need more sleep. I needed to know what was going on, with Keirran, the Forgotten and the entire Nevernever. I needed to contact my parents, let them know I was all right.
And Kenzie. My insides churned. Where was she now? What had happened to her in the time I’d been gone? Was she still waiting for me? Or had she given me up for dead and moved on, returning to her old, normal life, one without dangerous faeries and deadly magic?
A chill crept up my spine, and I almost dropped onto the bed again. One month in Faery likely meant several had passed in the real world. How long had it been since I last saw Kenzie, lying in that hospital room? Her illness...
The cold spread to all parts of my body, and I was suddenly torn between curling into a ball on the bed and punching the walls until my knuckles were bloody. What if...what if she’d never left that hospital? What if I went back home, and Mackenzie St. James was no longer there?
“Sire.” The healer stepped forward, a note of concern in his voice. “You really should lie down. You’ve gone quite pale.”
“No,” I rasped, waving him off. I’d done enough sleeping, and I couldn’t get home to see Kenzie now. I had to get out and do something before I drove myself nuts. “I’m fine. I just...need to find my sister.”
He blinked. “Her Majesty is in the war room with the prince consort and her advisers. But they’re in a private meeting and have ordered that no one disturb them. Are you sure you don’t want to lie down, rest a bit?”
I left him sputtering protests and walked into the hallway, pausing a moment to get my bearings. I had no idea where the war room was and didn’t think the healer would give me directions. An Iron knight, tall and imposing in full plate armor, shot me a sideways look from where he stood at the end of the hall, but the stern face and large sword made me nervous. A gremlin, bat-eared and razor-toothed, peered down from a chandelier and gave me a sharklike grin, but I was not going to waste time trying to have a sane conversation with a gremlin. Two packrats—short, hunched faeries carrying enormous mounds of junk on their backs—waddled down the hall, chittering in their strange, squeaky language, and I pushed myself off the frame.
“Hey,” I called. “Wait a second.” They stopped and blinked up at me as I stepped in front of them. “I need to find my sister. Where’s the war room?”
They cocked their heads, and I wondered if this had been a good idea after all. I knew they could understand me, but I didn’t speak packrat and didn’t have time for a game of charades in the middle of the Iron Palace. “I don’t need a detailed map,” I went on. “Just point me in the right direction.”
They held a short, squeaky conversation with many head bobs and hand gestures, before turning and beckoning me to follow. Relieved, I trailed the faeries down several long, winding hallways, passing knights, gremlins and countless other Iron fey. They stared at me with varying degrees of curiosity, wariness and awe. As if I was the monster, the thing out of place.
I supposed I was.
Finally, they took me through a wide-open doorway into an antechamber I’d seen once before, large and airy, with a massive iron chair at the end of a long carpet. Meghan’s throne room. It was mostly empty now, only a few Iron knights standing in corners and one wire nymph polishing the steps of the dais. The packrats hung back in the doorway but pointed across the chamber to another door on the far wall, guarded by a single Iron knight. I smiled and nodded, letting them know I was grateful without thanking them outright. I didn’t know the particular rules of the Iron Court, but saying the words thank you in Faery was generally a no-no. The packrats smiled back, chittered something I didn’t understand and waddled away.
I took a deep breath, clearing the faint light-headedness, and walked across the throne room to the door on the other side. The Iron knight watched me approach, narrow face impassive, and didn’t move. I raised my chin and tried to sound authoritative, like I was supposed to be here.
“I need to see my sister. It’s important.”
He stared at me long enough to make me wonder if I was going to be escorted back to my room “for my own protection,” before he bowed his head and calmly stepped aside. Trying not to shake with relief, I walked through the door and followed a short hall until it ended at another door, this one unguarded. Carefully, I tested the handle, expecting it to be locked, but it turned easily in my palm, and familiar voices drifted through the crack as I eased the door open.
“And you are certain it was him?” said a low voice that I recognized instantly, making my hackles rise. Of course, he would be here. I caught myself, trying to banish the feelings of anger and resentment toward that particular faery. They were just habit now, part of the lingering grief from when I’d thought he had stolen my sister from me. It wasn’t Ash’s fault that Meghan never came home. She loved him, and she had chosen to stay in the Nevernever, to become the Iron Queen. I was tired of being angry, tired of the bitterness that ate at me from the inside. I didn’t like the thought that I had died hating part of my family.
“Yes, sire.” This second voice shook a bit, as if its owner would rather be anywhere else. “I saw him myself. He was with a small contingent of Forgotten, in the wyldwood. Right outside Arcadia’s borders.”
“Scouting the area.”
“I believe so, sire. Though, when we tried following them, they disappeared. It’s as if they vanished into thin air.”
“So, it’s true.” This from Meghan, her voice grief-stricken, resigned, furious and terrifying all at once. “The Forgotten intend to attack the courts. I’ll have to tell Oberon that the Forgotten are practically on their doorstep, and that Keirran...” She trailed off, took a deep breath. “Glitch, send patrols to all our borders. Tell them to be on the lookout for Keirran and to report any sightings immediately. If they do see Keirran, do not attempt to talk to him. Until we know his intentions and why he remains with the Forgotten, we have to treat Keirran as a potential threat. Is that understood?”
There was a general murmur of consent, though Glitch’s voice, angry and frustrated, chimed in a moment later. “Why is he doing this?” the first lieutenant almost snarled. “This is his home. Why is he throwing everything away to side with the enemy?”
“Because he thinks he’s saving them,” I answered, stepping into the room.
Instantly, a table of about ten faeries straightened and turned toward me. Meghan was standing at the head with a tall faery in black close beside her. His silver eyes met mine across the room, cool and assessing, and I gave a small nod.
“Ethan,” Meghan said, a note of weary disapproval in her voice. “You are not supposed to be up right now.”
“Yeah, so everyone keeps telling me.” I walked to the table, clenching my jaw to keep the pain from my face, to appear perfectly normal. The fey watched me curiously, but it was Meghan’s gaze I sought, meeting her blue eyes as I reached the table and put a hand against the surface to steady myself.
“I know Keirran,” I said, speaking to Meghan but addressing them all. “I was with him when he went to the Lady. The Forgotten Queen. He...he really wanted to save them, the exiles and the Forgotten, from ceasing to exist.” My gaze went to Ash, standing quietly beside the queen, and for a moment, I wondered if I should reveal the other reason Keirran had wanted to help. That, long ago, Ash had gone through the place where all the Forgotten went to die, and unknowingly woken up the Lady.
I decided against it. The damage was already done, and accusing Ash of this whole mess wouldn’t help anything. Besides, it didn’t excuse Keirran’s actions. I was done helping him; even this, explaining why the prince was with the Forgotten, was to help my sister understand her son’s douchy behavior. Keirran was family, but he was not my friend. I’d tried to help, I had stuck my neck out for him, and he had literally stabbed me in the back. I could excuse a lot, but not that. If I ever saw my nephew again, I was going to kick his ass.
“Save them?” Glitch shook his head, making the lightning in his hair flicker. “By waging war on the other courts? By threatening his own kingdom, his own family? Why? How will that accomplish anything?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Meghan’s voice was steely and resigned at the same time. “What matters is that Keirran and an army of Forgotten are moving on the Nevernever. We must take this news to Tir Na Nog, to the war council of Summer and Winter. If the Forgotten do intend to attack, we must be prepared.” Her gaze went around the table and fastened on Glitch. “Make ready the army,” she ordered, and Glitch snapped to attention. “We depart for the Winter Court first thing tomorrow. Dismissed.”
The crowd of fey bowed and departed the room, leaving me alone with the rulers of Mag Tuiredh.
When the door closed, Meghan put both hands on the table and bowed her head with a shaky sigh. “So, it really is happening,” she murmured. “The prophecy has come to pass. I really am going to wage war against my son.”
I didn’t know what to say, if I should even say anything, but Ash moved close, putting a hand on her shoulder. “We don’t know that yet,” he said gently. Meghan’s hand came up to clutch his, as if he was a lifeline keeping her from drowning. “We don’t know how far gone he is,” Ash continued, “or what he might have promised. Perhaps there is still time to talk to him.”
“He killed Ethan, Ash!” Meghan spun on him, as if she’d forgotten I was standing right there. “In cold blood. He stabbed him, sacrificed him, to make way for these Forgotten. I never thought...” She covered her face with one hand. “Even after the prophecy, and the Oracle’s warning, I never thought he would do it. What’s happened to him, Ash? We did everything we could to prevent this, and now...”
Ash held Meghan’s shoulders and peered down at her with intense silver eyes. “Nothing is certain yet,” he told her. “Ethan is alive, and neither Keirran nor the Forgotten have attacked. We can fix this, Meghan, I swear it. There is still time.”
“Um...” I ventured, reminding them that I was still in the room. They turned, giving me somber looks, and I swallowed hard. “I might have an idea,” I said, wondering if they thought of me as an intruder, a human pest who had no stake in this war. I thought Meghan might order me back to my room to “rest,” but she only nodded for me to go on.
“Keirran is trying to save the Forgotten and the exiles,” I continued. “Tearing away the Veil was supposed to stop them from Fading into nothingness. For some reason, he thinks he’s responsible for the Forgotten. And...he’s trying to save Annwyl, too.” Annwyl, his exiled love from the Summer Court, had been Fading away, as well. In fact, this whole stupid mess started because Keirran was trying to find a cure for her. “We even went to Arcadia to ask Titania to lift her exile,” I went on, and noted Meghan’s and Ash’s grave looks as they probably guessed how that little endeavor had gone. “When she refused, Keirran flipped out and attacked her. He was pretty desperate at that point, I think. But, maybe if the courts can come to some kind of accord with the Forgotten and let Annwyl come home, Keirran will back down.”
I wondered what the hell I was doing, defending Keirran like this. If he was with the Forgotten and marching to wage war on the courts, let him deal with the mess he had caused. Let him see the consequences of his actions.
It’s not for Keirran, I thought fiercely. I’m not defending him; I’m trying to help my sister prevent a faery war from breaking out. Keirran, the Forgotten and the Lady can go to hell, but if Meghan has to fight her own son, it will destroy her.
Meghan nodded and seemed to regain some of her composure. “The council tomorrow is to decide if Keirran and the Forgotten are truly a threat,” she said, sounding thoughtful. “If we can keep Summer and Winter from declaring war, perhaps that will allow us enough time to find Keirran. We still don’t know what the Lady really wants. If all she wishes is for her people to survive, then maybe we can work something out. Something that will allow the Forgotten to exist within Faery and not Fade away.”
Relief washed through me, but I couldn’t relax yet. “There is...one more thing,” I continued. “Keirran was looking for a cure to stop Annwyl from Fading. Right before we went to see Titania, he convinced Guro—my kali instructor—to make an amulet for her. The amulet connected him and Annwyl and...uh...drained Keirran’s magic and life force and gave it to her. It allowed Annwyl to live but...it was probably going to kill Keirran.”
For a few heartbeats, there was silence.
“But...Keirran is still alive,” Ash said, as Meghan’s face went as pale as a sheet. “We’ve seen him with the Forgotten. Could Annwyl have taken the amulet off, destroyed it?”
“I don’t know.” I leaned against the table to steady myself. “But that amulet was the only thing keeping Annwyl from Fading. I don’t think Keirran would do anything to jeopardize that.” Unless he’s changed so much that I don’t recognize him anymore.
Meghan straightened, becoming the Iron Queen once more. “This will need to be addressed at the war council,” she said.
“I’m coming, too,” I said, and Meghan gave me a sharp look. “I was with Keirran when all this started,” I continued, holding my ground. “I know what happened, and I think the other courts will want to hear it. I want to help, Meghan,” I added as she hesitated. “I can’t hide from this any longer. This has become my fight, as well.”
Meghan sighed. “I’ll have someone send a message to Mom and Luke,” she muttered, rubbing her eyes. “Let them know you’re all right, at least. You just have to promise me one thing, Ethan. If the worst happens, and war does break out between the courts and the Forgotten, you cannot get involved. I don’t want you on the front lines—I don’t want you anywhere near the battle or the fighting. If it comes to that, I want you to go home. Please, I need to know you’ll be safe, that one part of my family is far away from this mess. Will you promise me that?”
I swallowed hard and nodded. “Yeah,” I rasped, “I promise.”
* * *
Gazing out the carriage window, I shivered, both from the chill coming through the glass, and the pristine white palace looming at the end of the walk. I knew Mab, Queen of Winter and one of the scariest fey in existence, held court in a massive underground city filled with Unseelie nightmares. I knew it was going to be cold and had borrowed some warmer attire from Meghan’s court in preparation: long wool coat, gloves and hat. But there was cold, and then there was cold. As in, hurts-to-breathe cold. As in there were colored ice crystals, bristling from the ground and dangling from rooftops, that were taller than me. As in unnatural, Winter Court cold. The door opened with a swirl of frigid, stinging air, making me grit my teeth as I slid out of the carriage. Grimacing, I stepped onto the ice-covered path, turning up my coat collar and wishing I had a scarf to wrap around my face. Jeez, it was freezing! What I wouldn’t give for a couple flamefruits right now.
Whoa, wait a second, Ethan. Crossing my arms, I followed Glitch up the path through the pristine, snow-covered courtyard toward the palace steps. When did you start wishing for magical solutions? You hate faery glamour, remember?
Oh, shut up, I told myself, annoyed. Obviously I wasn’t going to make any dangerous bargains or drink a bottle of faery wine, and I was going to be extremely paranoid of any strange glamour cast my way, but the entire Nevernever was one giant, magical place. I couldn’t avoid magic if I wanted to. I would admit, very reluctantly, that some faery magic could be useful.
Like keeping me from freezing to death in the freaking Winter Court.
Meghan and Ash were waiting at the top of the steps when Glitch and I came up. Meghan wore a dark blue cloak, but below that, a coat of glimmering silver scales rustled metallically as she turned to us. A sword hung at her waist, and her hair had been pinned up, making her look older, regal, almost intimidating. Beside her, Ash was dressed in jet-black armor with the silhouette of a great tree on the breastplate. Seeing them like that caused a lump of dread to settle in my gut. This wasn’t a faery ball or a fancy party. This was a meeting to determine if the courts of Summer, Winter and Iron would go to war with the Forgotten, the Lady...and my former best friend.
We strode through the halls of the Winter Palace, and I stayed very close to Glitch and the retinue of Iron knights accompanying us. I wasn’t afraid...well, no, screw that, I was afraid. The twin swords at my waist were a necessity; no way I was walking through Tir Na Nog unarmed. But I was mostly nervous for Meghan. Iron Queen or not, Keirran was her son; I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have to declare war against your own family. I hoped the faery courts could find a peaceful solution to the Forgotten and the Lady. I would do my damnedest to help make that happen.
Redcaps, ogres, goblins and other Winter fey stared at us, eyes and fangs gleaming, as we made our way through the frozen halls. At the end of a long corridor lit with blue ice chandeliers, a pair of Winter knights pulled back huge double doors and bowed to Meghan as we swept through.
Oh, crap.
An enormous round table made entirely of ice stood in the center of the room, throwing off tendrils of mist that writhed along the floor. Surrounding it were scores of fey, both Seelie and Unseelie, most of them dressed in battle gear. My skin prickled. For a council that was supposedly about “discussing” the Forgotten menace, everyone here seemed more than ready to fight.
The rulers of Summer and Winter stood at the head of the table, watching us as we came in. I’d never seen either of them before, but they were instantly recognizable. Oberon, the King of Summer, stood tall and proud at the table edge, silver hair falling down his back, his antlered crown casting jagged shadows over the surface. A pale, beautiful woman stood a few feet away, dark hair cascading around her shoulders, a high-collared cloak draping her armor of red and black. Piercing dark eyes stabbed me over the table, and my insides curled with fear. Mab, the Queen of Winter, was just as dangerous and terrifying as I’d imagined she would be. The only good thing was that Titania, the Summer Queen, appeared to be absent today. The queens’ hatred for each other was well-known, and the situation was volatile enough without two immortal faery rulers having a spat in the middle of the war council.
There was one faery in the room who could, unintentionally, cause a lot of trouble, just by being himself. Robin Goodfellow lounged against one wall, hands laced behind his head, watching everything with bright green eyes. When he saw me, one eyebrow arched, and he shot me a knowing smirk. I sighed and sidled around the table to stand beside him, not wanting to be too close to the Winter Queen and her retinue. Even though I was the Iron Queen’s brother, I was still fully human, something that was viewed as “lesser” here. Or even quite tasty. At least I didn’t have to worry about some goblin attacking me if I was with the Great Prankster.
“Hey, Ethan Chase,” Puck greeted softly as I settled beside him, crossing my arms. “Back from the dead, I see. Were there choirs of angels and twinkling lights? I’ve always wondered about that.”
“Couldn’t tell you,” I muttered. “I don’t remember being dead.”
“Aw, well, that’s disappointing.” Puck shook his head with a grin. “Dying sounds terribly dull. I was hoping you would prove me wrong.” He sniffed and turned his attention back to the meeting. “Anyway, speaking of dull, these war councils are such a bore. Let’s see if I can guess exactly how this is going to go. First off, Mab will be all cold and threatening, because well, that’s Mab...”
“Iron Queen,” Mab stated in a cold voice as Meghan and Ash stepped forward. “How good of you to join us. Perhaps you would like to hear the reports of what your son has been doing of late?”
“I am aware that Keirran is with the Forgotten,” Meghan replied, far more calmly than I would have expected. “I know they have been scouting the borders of Arcadia and Tir Na Nog. They have not, to my knowledge, harmed anyone or made any hostile overtures toward the courts.”
“Yet,” Mab seethed. “It is obvious they plan to attack, and I refuse to be besieged in my own kingdom. I propose we take the fight to the Forgotten now, before they and their mysterious Lady set upon us en masse.”
“And now Lord Pointy Ears will jump in with his eternal logic,” Puck went on.
“How do you plan to do that, Lady Mab?” Oberon asked, his voice like a mountain spring, quiet yet frigid. “We do not know where the Forgotten are, where the rest of this army is hiding. Whenever anyone tries to follow them, they disappear, both from the mortal realm and the Nevernever. How do you propose we find something that does not exist?”
Puck yawned. “Right on the money,” he mused. “And now we’ll have to endure several minutes of arguing as they try to solve the mystery of where the Forgotten have vanished to.”
“I know where they are,” I muttered, and he arched a brow at me.
“Well, maybe you should get in there, human.”
“Yeah, but I don’t really want to.”
Mab glared at Oberon. “They cannot simply vanish into thin air,” she snapped. “An entire race of fey cannot simply will themselves into nothingness. It is impossible. They have to be somewhere.”
Puck raised both brows at me, and I groaned. “They are,” I answered, and shoved myself off the wall. “They’re in the Between.”
All eyes turned to me. My heart stuttered, but I took a furtive breath and stepped forward, meeting the inhuman stares of a couple dozen fey.
“King Oberon is right,” I said, moving beside Meghan, feeling the chill of a Winter knight to my left. “The Forgotten can’t be found in the mortal world or the Nevernever because they’re not here. They’re slipping in and out of both worlds, from a place called the Between. It’s—”
“I know what the Between is, Ethan Chase,” Mab stated coolly, narrowing her eyes. “Most call it the Veil, the curtain between Faery and the mortal realm, the barrier that keeps our world hidden from mortal sight. But the ability for fey to go Between has been lost for centuries. I know of only one who has accomplished it in the past hundred years, and she has not seen fit to share her knowledge with the rest of Faery.”
Leanansidhe. I knew from Keirran that those who went into the Between were often trapped there, wandering for eternity. The Exile Queen was the only one who had managed to create permanent trods to her mansion in the Between, allowing her network of exiles and half-breeds to come and go as they pleased. But they still needed to use a trod. Not even Leanansidhe could part the Veil and slip between worlds whenever she chose. “Well, it might’ve been lost to the courts, but the Lady, the Forgotten Queen, remembers how,” I said. “And she taught the rest of the Forgotten, too. You haven’t been able to find them because they’re all hanging out in the Between.”
Mab’s icy black gaze lingered on my face, and I feared she was seeing far too much. “And the Iron Prince?” she asked in a soft, lethal voice, making Meghan stiffen beside me. “He has also been vanishing into thin air whenever we approach. Does he have this special talent? Has the Lady taught him to go Between, as well?”
I swallowed.
“Yes,” Ash confirmed before I could say anything. “We have seen it. Whatever old knowledge the Lady brought with her when she awoke, she has taught Keirran, as well. He can move through the Between like the rest of the Forgotten.”
Oberon raised his head. “Then it seems the Lady has chosen her champion,” he stated in a grave voice. “And so the prophecy comes to pass. Keirran will destroy the courts unless we can stop him. Iron Queen...” He gave Meghan an almost sympathetic look. “You know what you must do. Declare Keirran a traitor and cast him from your court. Only then may we stand united against the Forgotten and the Lady.”
“What? Whoa, wait a second.” I leaned forward, feeling the frigid edge of the table bite into my hands. “You don’t know what they want. Keirran is only trying to help the Forgotten survive. Yeah, he did it in the most ass-backwards way possible, but maybe you should try talking to them before declaring all-out war.”
“And what do you know of war, Ethan Chase?” Mab inquired, as her cold, scary gaze settling on me again. “You are the reason we are here, the reason the prophecy has come to pass. It was your presence that allowed the Forgotten to invade, your blood that tore away the Veil, even if it was for but a moment. You and the Iron Prince have brought utter chaos to Faery, and now you dare to tell us that we should be merciful?” Her eyes narrowed, and her lips curled in a terrifying smile. “I have not forgotten your hand in the destruction of my Frozen Wood,” she said, making my blood chill at the memory. I tried to back away, but I suddenly couldn’t move. My hands burned on the edge of the table, and I looked down to see that ice had crept up and sealed my fingers to the surface. “You are lucky that the impending war demands my attention for now,” Mab hissed, “but do not think for a moment that I will let that slide. You and the Iron Prince have much to answer for.”
“Lady Mab.” Meghan’s steady voice broke through the rising fury. “Please stop terrorizing my brother before I take offense.” My hands were suddenly free, and I yanked them back, rubbing them furiously to start circulation. “I am aware of the prophecy,” Meghan went on, as I stuck my frozen fingers under my arms. “I am aware that, misguided or not, Keirran has done terrible things. But I beg you all to consider whom we are dealing with. This is my son, and your kin. Both of you,” she added, looking to the Summer King and the Winter Queen in turn. “Are we going to declare war on our own blood without knowing the details? We are still uncertain as to what the Forgotten and the Lady really want.”
“I can tell you what she wants,” said a new, familiar voice behind us.
I spun, as did the rest of the table, to face the entrance of the room. The double doors had been pushed back, and a figure stood in the entryway with a pair of shadowy sidhe knights flanking him.
Keirran.
