Page 30 of The Iron Vow

“You’re...not making sense, Gilleas,” Other Nyx said, her voice a little shaky. “We’re standing right here, having this conversation. I’m afraid I don’t understand what you’re implying.”

“It is this.” Grimalkin sat up, golden eyes solemn as he stared at everyone in the room. “Imagine that Evenfall has been sealed off by the Lady and her circle. Imagine that, cut off from the magic of the Nevernever and the mortal realm, Evenfall, and all the faeries therein, Fade away into nothing. Until only the Nightmare King, the most powerful fey of all, is left. And in his fury and rage and grief, he falls into an endless sleep, and he dreams. Of his world. Of his people. And because the Nightmare King is able to do so, the dream manifests, and becomes reality. Of a sort. Evenfall is gone. But the world of the Dream remains. And the king finds ways of delivering his own glamour to his people in the form of Nightmares. Because he is the Nightmare King, and even his dreams cannot be pleasant ones.”

“That’s...” Varyn’s voice was a rasp, a growl, as the assassin shook his head violently. “Impossible,” he finished. “So, you’re saying...”

“None of us are real,” Gilleas breathed, barely audible even in the stunned silence. His long fingers uncurled in front of him as he stared down at his shaking hands. “Evenfall is gone. We have all Faded away. This—everything we know—is only a dream. We are all but dreams in the endless nightmare of the king.”

PART II

Interlude

Now, the story of the girl who went into Faeryland is more complicated than it first appears. Many would think that the tale began on her sixteenth birthday, the day her little brother was kidnapped by the fey and a changeling was left in his place. But truthfully, it began years before, on yet another birthday.

The day her father vanished from the world without a trace.

“What do you want to do today, sweetie?” the girl’s father asked. “Mommy is out shopping, so we have a couple hours together, just the two of us. It’s your special day, so we can do whatever you want.”

The little girl considered this. Normally, her daddy had to work and didn’t get to stay home, so this was exciting. “The park,” she decided. She liked playing on the swings and slides and running around without being told to stop. “But first, play me a song. The one that I like.”

“A song?” Her daddy pretended to be surprised. “And what song is that?”

She scowled at him. It was her special day; he was supposed to do what she wanted. “You know which one, Daddy.”

“I do?” He walked to their old piano and pushed back the lid. The little girl trailed eagerly and climbed onto the bench as he sat down. She loved listening to him, but lately, he had been so busy with work, he hardly ever played for her anymore. “Is it this one?” He started plunking a tune called “Chopsticks.”

“No!” She frowned. “Not that one.”

“No?” He grinned and switched songs, but this one was gloomy and sad. “Is it this one?”

“Daddy!”

He laughed. Picking her up, he set her on his lap, then stretched his fingers and put them on the keys. “Okay.” He smiled mischievously. “Ithinkwhat you’re talking about is this song right here...”

And he finally played the right one.

It was called “Butterfly,” and it was a song he’d written just for her. Bright and bouncy and cheerful, it always made her happy inside. Sometimes she would dance to the song, spinning and spinning as the music flowed around her. And sometimes, though not often, she would see strange things from the corners of her eyes: tiny flitting things with wings, or faces watching from the windows. They were always gone when she looked again, so she figured it was the magic from her daddy’s music.

“Again!” she cried as the tune came to an end. Her daddy laughed and shook his head.

“Again? I’ve already played it three times. Besides, I thought you wanted to go to the park today.”

Oh, right. She did. She liked the park, and they didn’t get to go very often. Mommy didn’t like being outside. She always seemed slightly nervous whenever they were outdoors and away from people. In fact, that was why she wanted to go today; Daddy was far more likely to take her to the park if Mommy wasn’t there.

“Can I get bread?” she asked, sliding off the piano bench. “I want to feed the ducks.” Her daddy sighed and picked her up in one arm.

“I suppose,” he told her, and gently tapped her nose with his finger. “As long as you promise not to bring home frogs in your pocket. Mommy was not happy with all the mud she had to clean up last time.”

The little girl promised, and a few minutes later, she and her daddy arrived at the park. It was a small, quiet little park not too far from their house, but surrounded by trees so that it felt like they were in the woods. There was a simple playground with a slide and a swing, a couple picnic tables, and a round green pond that held a sizable population of turtles and salamanders, and a little family of ducks.

There wasn’t anyone else at the park that day, just the little girl and her daddy, but she didn’t mind. She liked running around, being pushed on the swing, and swooping down the slide into his arms at the bottom.

Later, after she got bored with swinging and sliding, she and her daddy stood on the bank of the pond, tossing bread crusts into the water and watching the ducks zoom over to snatch them up. Around them, the breeze stilled, the branches of the trees going silent. It was suddenly very quiet; only the splash of water and the soft babble of ducks could be heard. As the little girl tossed her last crumb to a duckling, she looked down and saw something in the water’s reflection.

A lady, watching her from the other side of the pond.

Blinking, the little girl looked up, but there was nothing on the far side of the water. She and her daddy were alone.

“Sorry, ducks, that’s all the bread I have.” Her daddy tossed his last crust into the water and dusted off his hands. The ducks swarmed around him for a moment more, quacking, then glided away when they realized he didn’t have any more food. “Well, you ready to go home, sweetie?” he asked, glancing at his watch. “Mommy should be back by now.”

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