Page 58 of The Iron Vow

“No,” he replied. “But I see something else.”

An arm rose out of the pool, clutching at the marble sides. It was transparent, seeming to be made of water; I could see the distorted sides of the pool through it. A body followed, watery and opaque like the attached arm, a creature of tears come to life.

Another followed, transparent forms rising from the pool. As they stepped forward, their features changed, blurring and running together. And then, like the faces I’d seen in the wings of the Nightmare, I was suddenly facing a crowd of everyone I loved. Ash, Puck, Keirran, Ethan. My entire family. Not only them, but my own Iron fey stared back at me, their faces sorrowful and accusing.

A huge man with eyes like glowing embers stared at me over the heads of the others, coils of metal dreadlocks hanging from his shoulders, and my heart gave a jolt of grief and recognition.

Ironhorse.

The sound of sobbing filled my ears, and the bitter smell of tears and pain was overwhelming.

I shook myself. I had not failed anyone. My family lived. The Iron Kingdom was still there. I had given everything to protect my kingdom and the ones I loved, and I would still.

Beside me, Keirran let out a breath that was mostly a sob, closing his eyes and turning away from the slowly approaching horde.

“Keirran,” I said softly, “get a hold of yourself. They’re not real. You know this isn’t real.”

“I know,” he rasped. “I am aware that this is the effect of the Wailing One, and what I’m seeing isn’t true. But...” Tears gathered in his eyes, spilling down his face even as he took a breath. “It still feels...like I’m back there, on that day. When I lost her. When the courts exiled me from the Nevernever.”

My throat closed up. “You see Annwyl.”

“Everywhere,” he choked. “And the Lady. And the Forgotten. And...everyone I killed during the war. Everyone I have failed or lost or betrayed. They’re all right here, staring at me.” His gaze rose to mine, bleak and haunted. “Even you.”

Oh, Keirran.I wanted nothing more than to pull him close, to take away all the pain and guilt and grief he was still carrying, the wounds buried deep in his soul. Regardless of everything that had happened, he was my son, and I would always want to protect him. But we couldn’t give in to pain and sorrow now. Across the room of past regrets and trauma, the pool beckoned. If we were going to have a chance to beat the Elder Nightmare, we would have to get to it. Somehow.

“Keirran,” I said, “we’re going to have to fight our way through. Can you do this?”

He took a steadying breath and nodded, raising his sword. “I am sorry,” he whispered, and I was unsure who he was speaking to: Annwyl, myself, or someone else. “You don’t have to remind me. I already know.”

The crowd was nearly upon us. Gripping my blade, I took one step forward and found myself facing Ethan across the water. He held his twin swords in each hand, and his deep blue eyes were hard as he approached, silently reminding me of all the times I had abandoned him. All the times I had not been there after I had vanished into Faery for the last time. His mouth opened, and his voice, ugly with bitter resentment, lanced into my head.

“You left us,” he accused, his voice caught between a snarl and a sob. “You left me alone with the fey who made my life hell. You never loved us. Why did you always choose Them over me?”

“You are not my brother,” I growled, dodging the sword coming at my face. I blocked the twin sword cutting down at my head and stabbed up with my blade, striking the fake Ethan in the chest and sinking it deep. The words stung, but they didn’t bring the crushing guilt I’d felt in the past, when he was confused and hurt, and I could not be there for him.

Ethan and I have made our peace. He was angry for a long time, but he has accepted that Faery will always be a part of our lives. I regret the years that I lost with him, but he will always be my family. You’re going to have to do better than that.

As my blade sank home, the false Ethan jerked and then became transparent as he turned to water again and collapsed. The others pressed in—Ash, Puck, Ironhorse, even my human parents, but their features were all slightly blurry. Ash’s double was the most transparent; he was almost see-through and did not have close to the skill that his real-life twin possessed. I still hated fighting even a weak shadow of my husband, and had to look away when I dealt the killing blow, but it was a relief when he disappeared. Of the mob crowding forward, he’d seemed the least real.

In a startling moment of clarity, I understood. Out of everyone in this room, Ash was the least of my regrets. Of course, there were always going to be some. He had gone through a lot to be with me; we had both gone through hell to defy the courts and be with each other. The fallout of our decisions still shaped the Nevernever today. But I had never regretted falling in love with a Winter prince. Not once had I second-guessed my decision to marry the youngest son of the Unseelie Queen. In this nightmare world of fear, rage, sorrow, and regret, even if it all faded away, Ash would be the last one standing at my side.

And then Keirran stepped forward, and for a moment, I had to glance over to see if the real Keirran was still there. What I saw chilled me. He stood several paces away, his sword lowered, the tip touching the ground and his head bowed. A figure stood before him, a fey girl with chestnut hair and large green eyes, watching Keirran with a look of heart-wrenching grief. Her lips were moving, and though I couldn’t hear any sound, I knew Keirran caught every word.

Oh no. “Keirran!” I called, and immediately had to block as the mirror image of my son lunged and swiped at me with his blade. This Keirran was much more real than Ash had been, his strikes coming in fast and aggressive, driving me back a few steps. I blocked, parried, then spun to the left, my boots sending up sprays of water as I whirled and swept my blade at my opponent’s head. From the few sparring matches I’d had with my son, I knew Keirran was quick and skilled enough to easily duck, block, or simply not be there. This one was not. The sword edge sliced through the back of his neck, and thankfully, the false Keirran turned to water as his head toppled from his shoulders, easing a bit of the horror as he died.

I whirled back, searching for the real Keirran, but the spot where he’d been standing moments before was empty. My heart clenched as I spotted him, walking steadily toward the pool at the back of the chamber. The crowds let him pass, and he paid them no mind, his gaze fixed to something at the back of the room. Annwyl, standing waist deep in the center of the pool, one hand outstretched to Keirran as she urged him forward.

“Keirran!” I shouted, but my son ignored me. I started toward him, but the imposing bulk of a long-dead Ironhorse suddenly blocked my way. Grimly, I turned to fight one of the Iron Kingdom’s legends while trying to keep Keirran and Annwyl in my sights.

“Keirran, snap out of it!” I called, ducking an enormous fist that swung at my face. But Keirran didn’t seem to hear me. Standing at the edge of the pool, he hesitated for a single heartbeat, then climbed over the rim into the water, joining Annwyl in the center.

Trailing a hand over his shoulders, she circled him, bringing her lips close to his ear. Keirran closed his eyes, and she eased him back, into the waters. The tears closed over his head, and Keirran was gone.

No.

Rage flared. Dodging the blow to my head, I raised my sword and brought it down on the outstretched arm with a yell, shearing through the limb completely. Ironhorse staggered, and I lunged in, driving my blade into his chest and out his back.

The rest of the horde closed in. With a scream, I hurled myself through the dissolving body and into the midst of my enemies. Faces flashed by me, familiar and recognizable. Puck, Nyx, Oberon. I cut them down, steeling myself every time they fell. They were shadows, all the regrets I’d carried with me ever since I’d walked into Faery, but they did not define me. I had not failed them, and right now, they were only obstacles between me and my son.

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