The Iron Queen (The Iron Fey 3)

Ash knelt and tugged my hands down, pressing my fingers to his lips. “You were never normal, Meghan.” He smiled, and my fingers went tingly for an entirely different reason. “If you were, I wouldn’t be here now.”

I freed my fingers and stroked his cheek, running my thumb over the smooth, pale skin. For a moment, he closed his eyes and leaned into my hand before brushing a kiss to my palm and standing up. “I’m going to find Puck,” he announced. “There must be something we’re missing, something we’re overlooking. There has to be an easier way.”

“Well, if you find it, that would be great. I’m sick of being…sick…every time I make a flower grow.” I tried for a grateful smile, but think I just grimaced at him. Ash placed a hand on my shoulder, squeezed gently, and left the room. Sighing, I wandered over to the kitchen table, curious to see what Dad was working on so vigorously. He didn’t look up this time, so I perched on the edge beside him. The table was covered with sheets of paper, scribbled with lines and black dots. Looking closer, I saw they were hand-drawn sheet music.

“Hey, Dad.” I spoke softly, not wanting to distract or startle him. “What are you doing?”

“Composing a song,” he replied, glancing at me briefly and smiling. “It just hit me this morning, and I knew I had to write it down quickly before I lost it. I used to write songs all the time for…for your mother.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I watched the pencil move, scribbling dots along five simple black lines. It didn’t look like music to me, but Dad would stop and close his eyes, swaying the pencil to an invisible tune, before adding more dots to the lines.

My vision went fuzzy for a moment, and the dots seemed to move on the paper. For just a second, the entire song shimmered with glamour. The strict, straight lines gleamed like metal wires, while the various notes, once black and solid, sparkled like drops of water held up to light. Startled, I blinked, and the scribbles became normal again.

“Weird,” I muttered.

“What’s weird?” Paul asked, looking up.

“Um.” Quickly, I searched for a safer topic. Dad didn’t have a high regard for glamour, seeing it as nothing more than faery tricks and deception. With everything he’d gone through, I couldn’t blame him. “Um,” I said again. “I was just wondering…what all those little dots and lines are for. I mean, it doesn’t look like music to me.”

Paul smiled, eager to talk about his favorite subject, and pulled a full sheet of paper from a stack. “They’re measures,” he explained, placing the sheet between us. “See these lines? Each line represents a musical pitch. Every note on a scale is represented by its position on the line or in the spaces between. The higher the note is on the lines, the higher the pitch. Follow me so far?”

“Ummm…”

“Now, notice the different dots, or notes,” Dad went on, as if I understood anything he just said. “An open dot plays longer than a closed dot. The little stems and flags you see cut the time in half, and in half again. The appearance of the notes tells the player how long to hold them, and what note to play. Everything is measured by time, pitch, and scale, written in perfect harmony. One note or measure in the wrong place will throw off the entire song.”

“Sounds very complicated,” I offered, trying to keep up with his explanation.

“It can be. Music and math have always been tied closely together. It’s all about formulas and fractions and such.” Paul stood abruptly with the sheet of music and walked over to the piano. I trailed behind him and perched on the couch. “But then, you put it all together, and it sounds like this.”

And he played a song so beautiful it caught in my throat, making me want to smile and laugh and cry all at the same time. I’d heard his music before, but this was different, as if he’d put his entire heart and soul into it, and it had grown a life of its own. Glamour flared and swirled around him, a vortex of the most gorgeous colors I’d ever seen. No wonder the fey were attracted to talented mortals. No wonder Leanansidhe had been so reluctant to let him go. The piece was short and ended abruptly, as if Paul just ran out of notes.

“Well, it’s not finished yet,” he murmured, lowering his hands, “but you get the idea.”

“What’s it called?” I whispered, the echo of the song still ebbing through me. Paul smiled.

“Memories of Meghan.”

Before I could say anything, the door banged open and Ash stepped through with Puck close behind him. I jumped up as Ash crossed the room, his face tight and severe, and Puck stood in front of the door with his arms crossed, glaring out the window.

“What’s going on?” I asked as Ash drew close, looking like he wanted to sweep me up and rush out the door. I glanced at my dad to see how this was affecting him, relieved to see he looked wary and alarmed but not crazy. Ash took my arm and drew me away.

“The Seelie and Unseelie Courts,” he muttered, low enough that my father couldn’t hear. “They’re here, and they’re looking for you.”

CHAPTER NINE

A KNIGHT’S VOW

I blinked at Ash, and my stomach squirmed weirdly, both in excitement and fear. “Both of them?” I whispered, glancing at my dad, who had wandered back to the table and was hunched over his music again. He tended to ignore the faeries whenever they were in the room, never speaking to them, barely looking their way, and the boys were content to return the favor. It made for some awkward evenings, but I think Paul was terrified that if he drew their attention, he would go mad once more.

Ash shrugged. “They wouldn’t talk to me or Puck, except to say that Leanansidhe already gave them permission to come here. They want to speak with you. They’re in the clearing now.”

I walked to the window and peered out. At the edge of the trees, I could just make out a pair of sidhe knights each holding a banner, one green and gold and emblazoned with the head of a magnificent stag, the other black with a white, thorny rose in the center.

“The emissary said he had a message specifically for you, princess,” Puck said, leaning against the door with his arms crossed. “Said it was from Oberon himself.”

“Oberon.” The last time I saw my biological father, he had banished me to the mortal realm after Mab had done the same to Ash. I thought we had severed all ties; he’d made that quite clear when we parted, that I was on my own and Faery would never welcome me again. What did the King of the Summer Court want with me now?

Only one way to find out. “Dad,” I called, turning toward the table, “I’m leaving now, but I’ll be right back. Don’t leave the house, okay?”

He waved at me without looking up, and I sighed. At least Paul would be too busy to worry about the unexpected party in the meadow. “All right,” I muttered, walking toward the door, which Puck opened for me. “Let’s get this over with.”

We crossed the stream, where Grimalkin was grooming himself on a flat rock, unconcerned with the arrival of the courts, and headed toward the far side of the meadow. It was late afternoon, and fireflies winked over the grass. Ash and Puck walked beside me, protective auras glowing strong, and any fear I had vanished instantly. We had been through so much, the three of us. What was left, that we couldn’t face together?

The two knights bowed as we approached. I caught a glimmer of surprise from both Ash and Puck, amazement that two warriors from opposite courts could be in the presence of the other without fighting. I found it amusingly ironic. Between the knights, almost hidden in the tall grass, a potato-faced gnome stepped forward and bent forward at the waist. “Meghan Chase,” he greeted in a surprisingly deep voice, stiff and formal like a butler. “Your father, Lord Oberon, sends his greetings.”

I felt a flicker of annoyance. Oberon had no right to claim me as his daughter. Not after disowning me in front of the entire freaking court. Crossing my arms, I glared down at the gnome. “You wanted to see me. Here I am. What does Oberon want now?”

The gnome blinked. The knights exchanged a glance. Puck and Ash stood tall beside me, silent and protective. Even though I wasn’t looking at them, I could sense Puck’s gleeful amusement.

The gnome cleared his throat. “Ahem. Well, as you know, princess, your father is at war with the Iron Kingdom. For the first time in centuries, we have created a mutual alliance with Queen Mab and the Winter Court.” His gaze flicked to Ash before focusing on me again. “An army of Iron fey crouches at our doorstep, eager to taint our land and kill everyone in it. The situation has become most dire.”

“I know that. In fact, I think I was the one to first tell Oberon about it. Right before he exiled me.” I held the gnome’s gaze, trying to keep the bitterness from my voice. “I warned Oberon about the Iron King ages ago, him and Mab both. They didn’t listen to me. Why are you telling me this now?”

The gnome sighed and, for a moment, lost his formal tone. “Because, princess, the courts cannot touch him. The Iron King hides deep within his poisonous realm, and the forces of Summer and Winter cannot penetrate far enough to strike at him. We are losing ground, soldiers, and resources, and the Iron fey continue to advance on both courts. The Nevernever is dying faster than ever, and soon there will be no safe place for us to go.”

He cleared his throat again, looking embarrassed, and became proper once more. “Because of this, King Oberon and Queen Mab are prepared to offer you a deal, Meghan Chase.” He reached into his bag and drew forth a scroll tied with a green ribbon, unrolling it with a flourish.

“Here we go,” muttered Puck.

The gnome frowned at him, then turned to the scroll and announced in a grand, important voice, “Meghan Chase, by order of King Oberon and Queen Mab, the courts are willing to lift your exile, as well as the exiles of Prince Ash and Robin Goodfellow, abolishing all crimes and rendering full pardons.”

Puck drew in a sharp breath. Ash stood silently; no expression showed on his face, but I caught the briefest flicker of hope, of longing. They wanted to go home. They missed Faery, and who could blame them? They belonged there, not in the mortal world, with its vast skepticism and disbelief in anything but science. Small wonder the Iron fey were taking over the world; so few people believed in magic anymore.

But, because I knew faery bargains never came without a price, I kept my expression blank and asked, “In return for what?”

“In return…” The gnome dropped his hands, averting his eyes. “For journeying into the Iron Realm and eliminating its king.”

I nodded slowly, suddenly very tired. “That’s what I thought.”

Ash moved closer, drawing wary looks from the gnome and the two guards.

“By herself?” he said quietly, masking the anger beneath. “Oberon isn’t offering any help? Seems a lot to ask, if his own armies can’t get through.”

“King Oberon believes that a single person could move unseen through the Iron Realm,” the gnome replied, “and thus have a better chance of finding the Iron King. Both Oberon and Mab agree that the Summer princess is the best choice—she is immune to iron’s effects, she has been there before, and she has already taken down one Iron King.”