Page 17 of The Iron Sword

“Heisan exile, technically,” Kenzie replied. Dreamer gave her a flat, unamused stare, and she sighed. “We’re looking for Keirran, King of the Forgotten.”

Madam Dreamer’s rather large nostrils flared above her face mask. “That is what I was afraid of,” she snapped. “I knew that gremlin of yours sounded suspicious.” She brought a thin, spidery hand onto the desk surface with a rather weak slap. “You know my policies, Mrs. Chase,” she wheezed. “No court fey. No nobles from the Nevernever. I do not deal with the sidhe and their ilk. Certainly not the traitor son of the Iron Queen herself.”

My rage flared. I stepped forward, letting ice spread across the floor from my boots, dropping the temperature of the room several degrees. “You’ll deal with us,” I said quietly, as her head snapped in my direction. “Or you’ll suffer the consequences.”

“Court fey.” Madam Dreamer’s voice turned guttural with fear and alarm. She glared at Kenzie, ignoring Ethan, who quickly stepped up beside her. “How could you bring them here?” she said, almost whining. “You know my rules. If you think I will break my policies just because your husband is the Iron Queen’s brother—”

“The Iron Queen is here.”

Meghan’s voice filled the room. Stepping up beside me, she pushed back her hood, revealing her face to the skeletal form of the pale woman. “And as my husband said, you will deal with us, Madam Dreamer,” she said calmly. “We wish no harm upon you, but time is of the essence. We are searching for the Forgotten King, and your network of information is said to be vast. We need answers, and we need them now.”

“And what makes you think I will bargain with you?” Madam Dreamer brushed past Kenzie, glaring at us with hard black eyes. “Do you think you can come into my lair and bully me into compliance? I am no longer a mere human, thanks to your kind. Would you like to see what the fey have done to me?” She stepped closer, and I gripped the hilt of my sword. “Years ago, I dared win a game against one of your kind, a game where we competed for the affections of the same man. I won, not because I was beautiful and charming, but because I actually cared for him. I grew to love him, completely and selflessly, a sentiment which the fey know nothing about. When he chose me, she laughed and said she hoped I would enjoy my victory...looking like this for the rest of eternity!”

She tore away her mask, revealing a wide, gaping mouth, and the curving black fangs of a spider. The front of her dress parted, as two shiny jointed legs poked out, clicking against the tile. “She cursed me,” Madam Dreamer hissed, the curving fangs wiggling as she spoke, “to a life of seclusion and terror. To never knowing human contact again. My love...” She covered her face with claw-tipped hands. “I could not bear for him to see me like this, foranyoneto see me like this. I would be branded a monster and hunted down. And so I fled human society forever, finding my way into the forgotten corners and hidden crevices of the world, hiding my hideous form from everyone. Eventually, I found those like me, other monsters exiled from their homes. When I realized I was not completely alone, I started building my nest, my web of information, with myself at the center. And slowly, I began attracting others like me, those who have run afoul of the fey, as I had done. Now, my home is a bastion for those like me—poor souls with nowhere else to go, outcasts and exiles and those whom humanity would consider monsters. I take them in, and I give them shelter and safety, and in return, I ask that they do me small favors from time to time. After all...” Those black fangs curved up in a blasphemous parody of a smile. “That is the way of Faery.

“But,” the spider-faced woman continued, and stabbed a black nail in our direction. “I have my policies. And the first, the most important, is no deals with court fey. Never again will I have any dealings with those still bound to the Nevernever. Once was enough, and the price was far too high.”

“I dunno,” Puck mused, crossing his arms. “I will admit, that is one hell of a nasty curse. But a truly creative, evil person could think of ways to make it even worse.” An wicked smile crossed his face for just a moment as he shrugged. “Just saying.”

“I do not fear you, Robin Goodfellow.” Madam Dreamer gave Puck a venomous look. “I do not fear you, or the son of Mab, or even the Iron Queen. Look at me.” She raised both arms in weary resignation. “What can you do to me that has not already been done? Slay me here?” She gave a bitter laugh. “I have lived through the worst types of hell, endured constant torment and suffering. I have nothing left to lose but my life, and sometimes I think that would be a blessing.”

Anger battled pity, and I gripped the hilt of my blade to keep myself from drawing it. Fey curses were nasty, unpredictable, and usually unfair. Sometimes the punishment was justified, but often, it was the vengeance of a scorned, angry, or just spiteful fey who wanted to make the object of their wrath suffer. Afterward, the faery would forget about the incident and move on; this was impossible for the human who was now the victim of permanent misfortune.

But she was also an obstacle keeping us from finding Keirran.

As if sensing my thoughts, Meghan took a step forward. “Madam Dreamer,” she said, and the spider woman eyed her with a mix of defiance and fearful acceptance. “I was human once, just like you,” she said. “I know the cruelty of faery. Many years ago, I witnessed someone who was the victim of a faery curse, and I remember the chaos it wreaked on their life. It’s not something anyone, human or otherwise, should go through.”

“Kind words, Iron Queen,” Madam Dreamer said. “But I’ve learned that kind words are merely a manipulation tactic for the fey.” She raised a claw to her skinny chest. “I, too, have perfected the art of manipulation now. I, too, know how to promise one thing while only delivering regret. And I have survived this long by not trusting anything that comes from the mouth of Faery.”

“Then let me show you how this is different.” Meghan raised an arm, indicating the room and the cursed woman before her. “How long have you been like this, Madam Dreamer?” she asked. “How long ago did the faery curse you? Given the size of your network, it must have been a considerable amount of time.”

“Fifty years,” the spider woman hissed. “Give or take a few, those years where I lost all sense of time to despair and hopelessness. I have been like this for half a century.”

“Fifty years,” Meghan repeated. “Did you have family then? Any that could still be alive?”

“I do not know.” The cursed woman covered her face with her hands. “I could have found out, but I did not dare. What was the point? It would just be too painful.” Her thin shoulders heaved, before she raised her head to glare at Meghan again. “Why do you ask, Iron Queen?” she spat. “To remind me of my misery? To drive the nail in deeper?”

“No,” Meghan replied calmly. “But I am a queen of Faery, Madam Dreamer. I am connected to the Nevernever, as you said. And as a queen of the fey, I have powers that only the rulers of the courts possess. I do not know the name of the faery who cursed you, but there is one thing the rulers of Faery can do. Should you wish it, I can remove your curse. I can’t give you back the years you lost, but I can make you human again.”

“What?” For the first time, Madam Dreamer seemed stunned. Her dark eyes glazed over, and she staggered back a few steps, spider legs clicking over the floor. “You...can do that?” she whispered. “Return me to my human form?” She trembled, then raised herself up, her voice becoming hard again. “At what cost? What impossible thing would you have me do?”

“Only this.” As she spoke, Meghan’s character changed. The aura of power around her disappeared, as did the Iron Queen’s presence. Meghan was no longer a faery queen, but a normal girl, who held out a beseeching hand to the spider woman. “You said you had family, and that losing them was the most painful thing that had happened to you. I am looking for the King of the Forgotten, not as a faery or a queen, but as a mother who is worried for her son. All I want is information that will help us find him. That is all I am asking. Please, aid us in tracking Keirran down. If you do this, I will lift your curse, and make you human again.”

“Human again.” Madam Dreamer shook violently, the tips of her pointed legs clicking against the floor. Her hands clutched at her chest. “Walking the streets in the sunlight, not having to hide in the cracks and shadows. My face. I had almost given up hope that I would see it again...” She raised a spindly arm toward the ceiling, claws opening like bird talons, as if trying to snatch the life that had been taken from her.

She yanked back her arm and shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “No, I mustn’t. Never trust the sidhe. If I accept, how will I know that this bargain will not be worse?”

“Worse than having a spider as a face?” Puck snorted loudly from the corner. “Don’t see how that’s possible.” He sauntered forward, earning an angry look from Madam Dreamer, which he ignored. “But let me, as Robin Goodfellow, alleviate your concerns. If this bargain was any other faery queen—Mab, Leanansidhe, Titania...especially Titania—you would be right to worry. They would try to twist the deal so the outcome would be favorable for them, and screwy for you. But when I say this fey queen isn’t like that, I can’t tell a lie. There’s no hidden meaning here, no funny word play, and this is coming from someone with centuries of funny word play under their belt. If the Iron Queen herself is offering to make you human again, you’re not gonna get a better deal, trust me on that.”

Madam Dreamer wrung her hands. “My only chance to be human again,” she whispered, not talking to any of us. “Dare I take it? What will happen if I do? What will happen if Idon’t?”

“Nothing,” I said coldly. “Nothing will change. You’ll remain here, in your den of exiles and outcasts, and you will never see the above world again.”

“The son of Mab is right.” She straightened. “If I don’t accept, nothing will change. I will stay like this for the rest of eternity, or however long my miserable life endures. But do I dare return to the above world?” She cast a fearful glance up at the ceiling, as if seeing the city above through the concrete and dirt. “I have been away for so long. Everyone I used to know is dead or has moved on. Here, I am queen. Here, I have an entire kingdom that is mine.”

Puck frowned. “Um, I’m confused now. I thought you said you’d give anything to be human again, and now you’re backing out?” He gestured to Meghan, who continued to watch the spider woman with a mix of caution and sympathy. “Meghan just offered you a chance to go home. To live a normal life. Trust me when I say that’s not gonna come around again.”

“Home.” Madam Dreamer tore her gaze from the ceiling. “No,” she murmured. “Not home. Not anymore. It has been too long. Should I return to the surface, I would have to start over again. I would have nothing.” Her thin shoulders trembled. “I am safer in my web. My home. I am safe...here.”

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