Page 39 of The Iron Sword

For just a moment, staring at the motionless body of my son, the horror I felt threatened to consume me. But then the frigid emptiness of Winter rose up, stifling the despair, freezing it entirely.It’s not Keirran, I told myself.Not the real Keirran. This is a world of nightmares.Do not falter.

Then, Meghan screamed, and it was the most terrible sound I had ever heard, causing the mist to writhe and the blood in my veins to freeze. I turned to face the enraged form of the Iron Queen, her eyes filled with fury and sorrow, glaring down at me from several feet overhead. Glittering metallic wings spread out from her back, the edges barbed and razor-sharp. Her hair floated about her shoulders, blue eyes glowing with anger, as lightning flickered and snapped around her. She hovered there like an avenging angel, and for just a moment, for the very first time in my life, I was afraid of the Iron Queen.

“Enough, Ash,” she ordered, her voice echoing around the chamber. “No more. No more death. No more losing the ones I love. This ends right now.”

I threw up a shield, a thick dome of ice, as a storm of lightning slammed down around me, shattering the ground and sending frozen shrapnel spinning through the air. I staggered, the crackle of power in the air the only warning I had before the Iron Queen smashed through the barrier and came at me with her sword raised and a terrifying glow in her eyes. I barely got my sword up in time, backpedaling under the furious assault of the Iron Queen, the clang of our blades ringing through the chamber and making the icicles tremble.

And still, the power beckoned to me, ruthless and enticing. Urging me to let go, to fully give in to the rage and hate. I could be more powerful still, but I was holding back. I was holding back because, no matter how much I told myself that this wasn’t real, all my fury and anger could not overcome the love I felt for the woman before me. Had this been the real Meghan, if this had taken place in the real world or the true Nevernever, it would have never gotten this far. If Meghan ever truly wished for me to die, to kneel down and offer my life to her, I would have done it without hesitation.

Something stirred in me, a glimmer of an idea that brought hope but was so appalling I loathed myself the moment I thought of it. The Meghan I was fighting now was a perfect representation of the true Meghan from my memories. That meant she had the same emotions, mannerisms, thoughts, and feelings of her real counterpart. The real Meghan knew me, better than anyone. She knew the lengths I would go to protect her, and in the same way, I knew her weaknesses as well. Her fears and desires and secret thoughts. If I wanted to survive, if I wanted to defeat the Iron Queen, I would have to do something I would never do otherwise. I would have to lie to her.

I trembled. I had to make this convincing, or it wouldn’t work. Which meant this was also going to be fairly painful. When the Iron Queen darted back and thrust a hand toward me with a crackle of lightning, I didn’t immediately throw up a shield to block, but braced myself instead. The energy strands hit me square in the chest, hurling me back several feet. I struck the icy ground hard and clenched my jaw around a gasp, feeling the world spin around me.

For another tempting moment, I felt the anger rise up, bringing power with it, but I shoved it down. I couldn’t win like that. Not with her.

Grimacing, I looked up and saw Meghan hovering overhead. She was terrifying, powerful, completely beautiful, and my heart twisted with both love and despair. I felt my throat close up, and I took a deep breath to open it, hating what came next. This wasn’t going to take much acting at all.

“Wait.” I held up a hand, my voice coming out hoarse and choked. Meghan hesitated, and I struggled to my knees, breathing hard. Drops of blood trickled from a gash on my cheek and spattered to the ground as I knelt there, panting. “Enough,” I rasped. “Enough, Meghan. I yield. I’m done.”

My stomach churned. Saying those words felt wrong, like something vital had been torn out of me and thrown to the winds. Meghan’s brow creased, her eyes tightening, as if she was both relieved and fearful of what came next.

My arms trembled. Painfully, I straightened, pushing myself to my feet. Meeting the Iron Queen’s gaze, I raised my sword, then tossed it aside. It clattered against the ground and slid across the ice, coming to rest at the base of a frozen tree several yards away.

“End it.” Despite my resolve, my voice shook, and there was a stinging sensation in the corner of my eyes. Everything about this felt real, and separating what my head knew from the emotions eating me apart from inside was impossible. “Kill me if you must,” I rasped. “I told you before—a world where we are enemies is not a world that I want to exist in.”

Meghan’s face immediately softened, the fury in her eyes replaced with grief and regret. The storm around her ceased, and she floated gently to the ground. The elegant metal wings folded to her back, before they shimmered into a burst of glittering dust and disappeared.

“I’m sorry, Ash,” Meghan whispered. She came no closer, her sword held loosely at her side. “I wish I didn’t have to do this. I wish...” Her gaze strayed to the horrible scene behind us, where Keirran’s body still lay impaled on the ice. I couldn’t bring myself to look at it. “I wish I could send you to the other side and then follow after,” Meghan confessed. “I would die as well, so the three of us could be a family again.” Her face crumpled with pain, then hardened. “But I can’t. I am queen. I have to look after our people. That is how it has always been.” She closed her eyes. “That is how it must be.”

She stepped forward. Her eyes glimmered as her gaze met mine, and my breath caught.Not real, I reminded myself again.It is Meghan, but this is not your world. Keirran and Puck are still alive, and your real wife is waiting for you on the other side of this nightmare. If you want to see them again, you know what you have to do.

Meghan raised a hand, her fingers sliding up my neck to my face. I closed my eyes, hating that this felt so familiar, so right. I desperately hoped the Iron Queen would not mistake the pounding of my heart for the guilt and loathing choking me from within.

“Goodbye, Ash,” she whispered, and stabbed her blade toward my heart.

I spun, feeling the iron sword slide along my ribs as it barely missed me, the edge slicing a line of fire across my skin. Whirling behind the Iron Queen, I snaked one arm around her shoulders and thrust my other hand into the middle of her back, releasing a surge of Winter glamour. The ice spike exploded from my palm, punching through the Iron Queen’s chest in a spray of blood.

Meghan let out a strangled gasp, arching against me. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out but a few choked breaths. The sword fell from her hand, clattering to the ground, as my wife, my partner, and the queen I’d sworn to protect with everything I had shuddered once and slumped lifelessly in my arms.

I let out a breathless sob and held her to me, feeling a part of myself die within. The fact that it wasn’t the true Meghan was of little solace. It still felt entirely real. I had just killed my wife, my son, and my best friend, and my soul felt sick at what I had done. What I was capable of doing.

But deep inside, that hidden, Unseelie nature reveled in this discovery. I had killed a queen of Faery. I could destroy my weakness and open myself to unlimited power if I chose. If I embraced the Unseelie side once more, I would be unstoppable.

Meghan’s body rippled, then turned to mist in my arms. Dazed, I watched her disappear, writhing to nothing on the wind, and felt a numb relief spread through me. It hadn’t been real, after all.

Slowly, I rose to my feet, seeing the world around me was fraying apart as well. The trees, the stones, even the piles of bodies looked like they were giving off steam that coiled away into nothing, and the sky overhead had turned flat and colorless. Straightening, I gazed around the disappearing reality, wondering what would happen when this world faded away. Would I emerge in the ruins with the Evenfey once more? Or would I vanish as well, becoming lost in the Between like so many others before me?

“Ash?”

The world seemed to stop. I turned, and Meghan stepped out of the mist, a bright, vivid silhouette against the colorless backdrop of gray and white.

My heart leaped, everything inside me reacting to her presence. There was a time when I might have been surprised to see her there. I might have questioned, been wary, demanded to know how she found me. Especially now, after I had just ended the life of another Iron Queen, and my hands were still shaking from what I had done.

I had no proof, no evidence, that this Meghan was the one I had pledged my life to. None, except the way my heart and soul reached out to her, and the feeling of utter relief that spread through me like a flood, searing away any doubt.

She raised her hands as she came forward, her gaze beseeching mine. “I’m real,” she said softly, carefully, as if afraid I might not believe her. “It’s me, Ash. I’m—”

I took two strides forward, reached out, and pulled her close, crushing her against me. She let out a startled breath, then returned the embrace tightly. Her arms squeezed my ribs, and the wounds on my back, arms, and chest throbbed, but I barely felt them. The world could dissolve around me, but if Meghan was here, that was all I cared about.

---