Page 51 of The Iron Vow

“What is?”

A chilling howl echoed over the mountains, sounding far closer than it had in the past. At the other firepit, Puck, Varyn, and Other Nyx looked up sharply, scanning the skies for the source of the noise.

“She knows we’re here,” Keirran went on. “The Wailing One. She knows what we’re trying to do.” He grimaced, one hand clutching at his head. “It’s coming,” he whispered again. “She sent something after us. It’s left the tower and is coming toward us right now.”

“Get everyone on their feet,” Ash said, rising swiftly. “I’ll take care of Keirran. Grimalkin, I assume you can find us a cave or other hiding spot in these mountains?”

The cat stretched languidly on the rock before stepping down, seemingly unconcerned. “Finding holes in mountains is not difficult,” he said. “I am sure I can turn up something.”

The screams pursued us into the mountains. They echoed off distant peaks and shivered through deep crags and gullies, never giving any indication as to how close or far away the source was. To make matters worse, Keirran kept stumbling, recoiling from things that weren’t there, and going for his sword. His face was haggard, his eyes haunted as he continued to scan the cliffs around us.

As the screams drew discernably closer, lightning flickered from a sky that was suddenly mottled and black. A sharp, bitter wind blew into my face, making my eyes water. It smelled wrong; tainted and choking, like the scent that came off the water.

“It’s going to rain,” Other Nyx announced, glancing warily up at the sky. “I can’t imagine that’s going to be good for us.”

“You would be correct,” Gilleas said over the growing screams of whatever was coming. From the volume and the echoes, it sounded like it was right around the bend. “The rain will be laced with the tears of the Wailing One,” Gilleas went on. “Not as potent as the water coming down from the mountain, but getting caught in the storm will not be pleasant, for any of us.”

“Grimalkin,” I called, looking around in vain for the cat. “Have you found us a shelter yet? Otherwise we’re going to be fighting another Nightmare in a rain of tears!”

“What do you think I have been doing, Iron Queen?” Grimalkin materialized on a large boulder, his expression annoyed. “While you all have been lamenting the weather, I have found a suitable cave. This way, and do watch your step. It is a very long fall to the bottom.”

A few minutes later, we followed the cat along a narrow ledge, backs pressed against the wall, staring at the sheer drop at our feet. Clouds drifted below us, and a cold wind moaned through the ravine, tossing my hair as if to yank me from the ledge.

“Okay, someone is going to have to talk to that cat about the meaning ofsuitable,” Puck commented, his voice echoing into the ravine below. “Because there is a difference between ‘suitable for everyone’ and ‘suitable for mountain goats.’ And if anyone makes a joke about me being shaggy and horny, I’m going to push them.”

“You are almost there,” Grimalkin said, calmly peering back at us. “Just a bit farther. The cave is right ahead.”

I glanced at Keirran beside me. His eyes were glazed, his skin pale, and the haunted look still clung to him. Ash loomed on his other side, ready to grab him should he slip or fall, but worry still twisted my stomach.

My son must’ve felt my anxious gaze on him, because he half smiled without looking up. “I’m all right,” he murmured. “If I stare straight down, I don’t see their faces. Just a very long fall into nothing.”

A drop of water hit my forehead and slid down my cheek. It didn’t burn, not exactly, but it still felt tainted and smelled of bitterness and rage. My eyes watered, and I scrubbed a hand across my face to clear my vision.

“Hurry, if you can,” Grimalkin urged from farther ahead. I looked up and saw the cat standing at the entrance to a large hole in the rock, eyes glowing in the darkness. “The storm is coming. I would advise you to shuffle faster.”

We did, moving along the narrow ledge as quickly as we could. No sooner had I reached the mouth of the cave than the skies opened up with a hiss, and a curtain of rain began creeping over the mountains. I waited as Keirran ducked into the cave, followed by Ash, Puck, Nyx, Other Nyx, and finally Varyn, who ducked beneath the ledge just ahead of the rain.

Puck exhaled, leaning against the wall, watching the water sweep across the opening of the cave. “Cutting it a little close, but we made it. You know, I feel like we’ve done this before with Furball, and it always seems that he finds what we’re looking for at the very last dramatic second.”

I started to respond when a wail shivered through the air and caused dust to rain from the ceiling. A chill crawled along my spine, followed by looming anxiety that something was coming, drawing ever closer through the darkness.

“Meghan,” Ash growled, his voice a warning. He hadn’t moved away from the mouth of the cave, and cut a dark silhouette against the stormy sky, his coat billowing behind him in the wind. “Look.”

Heart pounding, I gazed out into the storm.

The rain was picking up, turning the world colorless. It smelled wrong, like salt and bitterness and regret, burning my eyes again and clogging my throat. Before coming to Faery, I hadn’t known emotions could have smells, but after living as a fey queen for many years, I now knew the scent of grief and rage. Even after all this time, I found it unsettling.

Lightning flickered, and in the flash, I glimpsed a shape in the rain, flowing through the air like a ragged cloud. Through the storm, it was blurry and indistinct, a long, pale form that trailed wisps of fog behind it. It had no wings, no arms or tail or even a head that I could see, but it was massive, nearly as large as the bat we’d fought earlier. I watched it twist and coil toward us, its bone-chilling screams echoing off the peaks, its form unclear.

And then it turned toward us, revealing a face. Peering out of a hundred other faces. My blood chilled as the ethereal form of the Nightmare solidified into a mass of anguished expressions, each a mask of grief and agony. Human faces, elven faces, goblin and troll faces, faces I couldn’t recognize, faces I had never seen before and could barely fathom. All screaming. All crying out in torment, rage, sorrow, and despair. I met the glassy, teary eyes of the face in the middle, saw them widen for a fraction of a second, before every face that made up the Nightmare’s terrible body turned toward me.

With a shriek that sent pain stabbing through my head, the creature twisted around and flew right at us.

Ash and I lunged back from the entrance of the cave. “Everyone, move,” Ash ordered, his voice echoing off the walls. Reaching down, he pulled a hunched, huddled Keirran to his feet and shoved him toward the back of the cave. “Get farther into the tunnel. The Nightmare is coming!”

With a wail so loud it brought tears to my eyes, the mass of faces lunged into the cave. Its body distended, squeezing into the tight space with us, the shrieks threatening to bring the entire cavern down around us. My head throbbed, and my ears felt like they were bleeding, but I drew my sword and stabbed it through one of the faces as they slithered forward, the blade plunging deep into its temple.

That was a mistake.

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