Page 43 of The Iron Sword

“Ash.”

Puck’s voice was barely a whisper, but hope flickered. I rose and held out my hand to him, never dropping his gaze. “So, stop feeling sorry for yourself,” I ordered, “and let’s go save Faery. Unless you want me to tell Nyx you just gave up without a fight.”

Puck blinked. A spark of defiance glimmered to life in his gaze, breaking through the apathy, and the empty gray pupils were swallowed by green. Looking up, his eyes met mine, awareness and recognition dawning in his expression at last. Reaching out, he firmly grasped my palm.

The second he did, color returned to his fingers, spreading swiftly up his arm and to every part of him that had gone transparent. As color washed back into Puck, it vanished from the woods around us, as if Puck himself was leeching it from the forest. The trees started to unravel, branches turning white before coiling away into mist.

Still gripping my hand, Puck shook himself like a dog coming out of a deep sleep and grinned up at me, his expression absurdly gleeful. “Oh, ice-boy,” he crooned, sounding like his old, irreverent self again. “Youdocare, after all. I’m so touched. But, um, why is the world melting?”

I sighed and pulled Puck to his feet as around us, the Summer Court continued to fray apart. Trees, stones, even the fey themselves drifted apart like cobwebs, spinning away into the ether. “This nightmare is unraveling,” I told him. “Nothing here is real except us. I don’t know how these worlds can exist, but we have to get out of here before this one disappears completely.”

“Okay, I’m going to pretend I know what the hell you’re talking about and just nod,” Puck said, bobbing his head vigorously. “But getting out of here sounds like a good plan. Where’s everyone else, by the way?”

“Meghan is looking for them,” I answered, wondering if she had found Grim and the Forgotten. We still had the Evenfey and the ritual circle to deal with, but I wouldn’t even think of that until we were all together again. “We promised we would meet up again when we’d found everyone else.”

“Uh, meet up where, ice-boy?”

Ignoring Puck’s question, I thought of Meghan, holding the image of her in my mind and pushing everything else aside.

“After I dealt with my own thing, all I could think about was finding you,”she had said. “When the world began to come apart, I just started walking, and it led me here.”

“Come on,” I told Puck without turning around. “We’re leaving. If Meghan found the others, they’ll be waiting for us on the other side of the mist.”

“Right behind you, ice-boy. I still have no idea what you’re talking about, but I am more than done with this place. Let’s go.”

We strode back through the Summer Court, between the crowds of unraveling fey, and stepped into the fog, leaving that world and Robin Goodfellow’s nightmare behind.

We emerged from the mist, and stumbled into what looked like another forest, this one much darker and more tangled than the pristine woods of Summer. Huge trees surrounded us, interlocking branches shutting out the sky, and the world was dim and gray save for small, shockingly bright splashes of color interspersed through the wood.

Puck drew in a slow, wary breath. “Okay,” he said quietly, gazing around. “This is the wyldwood from the looks of things, which is better than the void or a giant spider’s nest. But I don’t see...oh.”

I followed his gaze. A figure stood in the center of a clearing, pale hair glowing softly in the gloom of the wyldwood. Meghan turned, relief crossing her face as her gaze met mine, and my own relief soared. I crossed the space between us and pulled her close, and she relaxed against me with a sigh.

“Ash.” Drawing away, Meghan smiled as Puck joined us, giving her a quick, one-armed hug in greeting. Her expression was worried as she gazed up at him. “Puck. I’m glad you made it. Are you all right?”

He shrugged, a somewhat wry grimace crossing his face. “Never better, princess. I really thought I was going to be dumped into some sort of freaky upside-down spider world, but apparently, spiders arenotmy biggest fear. Who knew?”

Meghan’s face was sympathetic. “I won’t ask if you won’t.”

“I can live with that.” Puck sighed and glanced around the wyldwood, obviously searching for someone. “So, where are Nyx and Furball?”

Meghan winced. “I haven’t been able to find them,” she said apologetically. “I’m sorry, Puck. I followed Grimalkin’s trail here, but I haven’t seen either one of them. Either Grim is somewhere else, or he doesn’t want to be found.”

“Dammit.” Puck scrubbed a hand through his hair. “And if Nyx is still in her own nightmare, it’s going to be hard to find her, too. Cats and assassins, ugh.” He shook his head. “Well, I guess we’d better start looking under every rock and behind every twig until we find them.”

A faint chuckle. “That won’t be necessary.”

We spun. At the edge of the trees, the mist parted, and Nyx appeared like a phantom, making no noise as she did. “I’m here,” she stated quietly. “No need to go looking for me. I thought it would be best if I found you, instead.”

Puck immediately left Meghan’s side, walked across the clearing, and pulled her into a relieved, very passionate kiss, which she returned. A wry smile crossed her face as they pulled back, her golden eyes both relieved and amused as she gazed up at Puck.

“Nice to see you, too, Goodfellow.”

“Are you all right?” Puck asked, serious for once. “Meghan and ice-boy keep talking about nightmare worlds. Were you able to get out of...wherever you were, on your own?”

She nodded, and a haunted look flickered through her eyes, gone in the next blink. “A few near-death moments with my old Order,” she muttered. “The Lady sent them after me, and I had to watch myself kill them all. Every single one, brothers and sisters I had known my whole life, dead by my hand.”

“Ah, man, that’s screwed up.” Puck’s brow creased in sympathy, and he pressed his forehead to hers. “I’m sorry, Nyx.”

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