Read The Iron Knight Online

Authors: Julie Kagawa

Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Young Adult, #Adventure, #Azizex666

The Iron Knight (11 page)

“I know.” I sighed, glancing back at the glade, knowing she watched me, even now. “I know.”

A
RIELLA WAS WAITING FOR US
when we returned, standing under the elder tree, talking to the empty branches. At least, it was empty until two golden eyes appeared through the leaves, blinking lazily as we came in. Grimalkin yawned as he sat up, curling his tail around his feet, and regarded us solemnly. “Made your decision, have you?” he purred, digging his claws into the branch holding him up. “Good. All this agonizing
was getting rather trite. Why does it take
so long
for humans and gentry to choose one path or the other?”

Puck blinked at him. “Oh, let me guess. You knew Ariella was here all along.”

“Your kind does have a flair for stating the obvious.”

Ariella was watching me, her expression unreadable. “What is your decision, Ash of the Winter Court?”

I drew close enough to see her face, realizing it hadn’t changed in all the years she’d been gone. She was still beautiful, her face lovely and perfect, though there were shadows in her gaze that hadn’t been before. “You told me you knew the way to becoming mortal,” I said softly, watching for her reaction. Her eyes tightened a bit, but her expression remained neutral otherwise. “I made a promise,” I said softly. “I swore to Meghan that I’d find a way to return. I can’t walk away from that, even if I want to. I need to know how to become mortal.”

“Then it is decided.” Ariella closed her eyes for a long moment. When she spoke, her voice was low and distant, and it raised the hair on the back of my neck. “There is a place,” she murmured, “that resides at the end of the Nevernever. Beyond the Briars that surround Faery, beyond the very edge of our world, the ancient Testing Grounds have stood since the beginning of time. Here, the Guardian awaits those who would escape Faery forever, who wish to leave the world of dreams and enter the human realm. But to do so, they must endure the gauntlet. None who accepted this challenge returned sane, if they returned at all. But legend states that if you can survive the trials, the Guardian will offer the key to becoming mortal. The gauntlet will be your test, and the prize will be … your soul.”

“My … soul?”

Ariella regarded me solemnly. “Yes. A soul is the essence of
humanity. It is what we lack to become mortal, and as such, we cannot truly understand humans. We were born from their dreams, their fears and imaginations. We are the product of their hearts and minds. Without a soul we are immortal, yet empty. Remembered, we exist. Forgotten, we die. And when we die, we simply fade away, as if we never existed at all. To become human is to have a soul. It is that simple.”

I glanced at Puck and saw him nodding, as if this all made sense. “All right,” I said, turning back to Ariella. “Then, I need to get to the Testing Grounds. Where are they?”

She smiled sadly. “It is not a place you can just walk to, Ash. No one who has gone to the Testing Grounds has ever survived. However …” Her eyes glazed over, becoming as distant as the stars. “I have seen it, in my visions. I can show you the way.”

“Can you?” I gave her a long, searching look. “And what would you ask in return? What would you have me swear?” I stepped closer, dropping my voice so only she could hear. “I can’t give you back the past, Ariella. I can’t promise it will be the same. There’s … someone else now.” A face rippled across my memory, different from Ariella’s; pale-haired and blue-eyed, smiling at me. “This quest, my earning a soul, is all for her.”

“I know,” Ariella replied. “I saw you together, Ash. I know what you feel for her. You always loved … so completely.” Her voice trembled, and she took a deep breath, meeting my gaze. “All I ask is that you let me help you. That’s all I want.” When I still hesitated, she bit her lip and her eyes filled with tears. “I haven’t seen you in years, Ash. I waited for this day for so long—please don’t walk out and leave me behind. Not again.”

Guilt stabbed at me, and I closed my eyes. “All right.” I sighed. “I guess I do owe you that. But, it won’t change anything,
Ari. I have to keep my promise to Meghan. I won’t stop until I’ve earned a soul.”

She nodded, almost distracted. “It’s a long way to the End of the World.” Turning from me, she walked over to the shelves, her next words almost inaudible. “Anything can happen.”

CHAPTER SEVEN
THE RIVER OF DREAMS
 

Leaving the hollow with Ariella, Puck, and Grimalkin, I was eerily reminded of another journey, one that was disturbingly similar to this. I believe the human saying was
déjà vu,
and it did seem strange, traveling with very nearly the same companions as before. Myself, Grimalkin, Robin Good fellow … and a girl. It was strange; not very long ago, I’d thought Meghan reminded me of Ariella, but now, watching my old love glide through the mist as she led us out of the hollow, my only reflection was how similar—and how different—Ariella was to Meghan.

I pushed those thoughts away, focusing only on the task at hand. I could not let myself be distracted from my goal. I could not start comparing the two, the love from the past and the girl I would do anything for, because if I did I would go mad.

The Wolf joined us almost as soon as we left the hollow, materializing from the darkness without a sound. He sniffed Ariella curiously and wrinkled his muzzle at her, but she gazed at him calmly, as if she had expected him. No introductions were made, and the pair seemed to accept each other without reservation.

Leaving the hollow behind, we made our way through a forest of thorn trees, bristling and unfriendly, with bits of bone, fur and feathers impaled between them. Not only were the trees covered in thorns, the flowers, the ferns, even the rocks were all pointed and barbed, making it important to watch where we put our feet. Some of the trees had taken offense to our presence, or were simply bloodthirsty, for every so often they would take a swipe at us with a gleaming, bristling branch. I noticed, with a certain annoyance, that they left the Wolf completely alone, even moving aside for him to pass before taking a swat at me if I followed. After dodging several of these assaults, I finally grew tired of the game and drew my sword. When I sliced through the next thorny limb that whipped out at my face, the trees finally left us alone. For the most part.

“What is she like?” Ariella asked suddenly, surprising me. She had been quiet up until now, wordlessly leading the way until the closeness of the thorns forced her to ease back, to let me go first with my weapon. A longbow of gleaming white wood lay strapped to her back—she had always been a deadly archer—but the only blade she carried was a dagger.

Caught off guard by her question, I blinked at her, confused and wary. “I thought you already knew.”

“I knew of the girl, yes,” Ariella replied, ducking a vine covered in thin, needlelike barbs. “But only flashes. The visions never showed me more than that.”

Behind us, Puck’s gleeful whoop rang out as he dodged an attack, followed by the rustle of several trees that continued to swipe at him as he danced around. He was obviously enjoying himself, and probably stirring the forest’s ire to even greater heights, but at least his attention was elsewhere. Grimalkin had long disappeared into the thorny undergrowth, stating he would meet us on the other side, and the Wolf’s dark form was padding ahead, so it was just me and Ariella.

Uncomfortable with her scrutiny, I turned away, hacking through a suspicious-looking branch before it could lunge at me. “She’s … a lot like you,” I admitted, as the tree rattled in outrage. “Quiet, naive, a little reckless at times. Stubborn as a—” I stopped, suddenly self-conscious, feeling Ariella’s gaze on the back of my neck. “Why are you asking me this?”

She chuckled. “I just wanted to see if you would answer. Remember how difficult it was getting any real answers out of you before? Like pulling teeth.” I grunted and continued clearing the way, and she followed close behind. “Well, don’t stop there, Ash. Tell me more about this human.”

“Ari.” I paused, as memories rose up, both blissful and painful. Dancing with Meghan. Teaching her to fight. Being forced to walk away as she lay dying beneath the limbs of a great iron oak. A root took advantage of my moment of distraction and tried to trip me, but I sidestepped and moved us both away. “I can’t … talk about it right now,” I told Ariella, whose sympathetic gaze read far too much. “Ask me again some other time.”

A
S WE LEFT THE FOREST
of thorns, darkness fell very suddenly, as if we’d crossed some invisible barrier into Night. One moment, we were in the perpetual gray twilight of the wyldwood and the next, it was pitch-black except for the stars. And a new sound began to filter through the silence of the forest, faint at first but growing ever stronger. A constant murmur that slowly progressed to a dull roar, until we finally emerged from the trees to stand on the banks of a great black river.

“Wow,” Puck mused, standing beside me. “The River of Dreams. I’ve only seen it a few times before, but it never ceases to amaze me.”

I agreed with him, albeit silently. The surface of the river was black as night, reflecting the star-filled sky above and stretching on and on, until you couldn’t tell where the water
ended and the sky began. Moons, comets and constellations rippled on the surface, and other, stranger things floated upon the misty black waters. Petals and book pages, butter-fly wings and silver medals. The hilt of a sword stuck out of the water at an odd angle, the silver blade tangled with ribbons and spiderwebs. A coffin bobbed to the surface, covered in dead lilies, before sinking into the depths once more. The debris of human imagination, floating through the dark waters of dream and nightmare. Swarms of fireflies and will-o’-the-wisps floated and bobbed above the waves like moving stars, adding to the confusion. This was the last familiar border of the wyldwood. Beyond the river was the Deep Wyld, the vast, uncharted territory of the Nevernever, where legends and primeval myths roamed or slept, where the darkest and most ancient creatures lurked in obscurity.

The Wolf gazed across the water, calm, unruffled, almost bored. I had the feeling he had seen the River of Dreams many times before, and wondered how far downstream he had been, if he made his home in the Deep Wyld himself.

I looked at Ariella. “Where to now, Ari?”

The lights of the river reflected in her eyes, and will-o’-the-wisps darted around her, burrowing into her hair. Standing there on the riverbank, glowing and wraithlike, she looked as insubstantial as mist. Raising a pale, delicate hand, she pointed downstream.

“We follow the river. It will take us where we need to go.”

“Into the Deep Wyld.”

“Yes.”

“How far?” The River of Dreams supposedly ran forever; no one had ever been to the end of it, at least, no one who had survived to tell the tale.

Her eyes were as distant as the stars overhead. “Until we reach the edge of the world.”

I nodded. Whatever it took, I was ready, even if it was impossible. “Let’s get going, then.”

A familiar gray cat sat on a barrel half-submerged in the mud at the river’s edge, lazily swatting at fireflies that bobbed overhead. As we approached, a large wooden raft, covered in algae and trailing ribbons of weed, broke from a cluster of branches and floated toward us, unmanned. The planks were wide and sturdy, the logs holding it up thick and enormous, and it was large enough for even an enormous wolf to sit comfortably. A long wooden pole rested at the back, half-underwater.

“Oh, hey—look at that,” Puck said cheerfully, rubbing his hands together. “Seems like the river knew we were coming. I’ll drive.”

I put my arm out as he started forward. “Not a chance.”


Psh.
You never let me do anything.”

The Wolf curled his lip in distaste, eyeing the raft as if it might lunge at him. “You expect to reach the End of the World on
that?
Do you know the things that live in the River of Dreams? And we’re not even at the nightmare stretch yet.”

“Aw, is the Big Bad Wolfie afraid of a few nasty fish?”

The Wolf gave him a baleful stare. “You wouldn’t say that if you’d seen some of the fish in the Deep Wyld, Goodfellow. But more important, how will you ever reach the End of the World if I bite your head off?”

“It’s all right,” Ariella said quietly before we could respond. “I’ve seen us … following the river to the end. This is the way we need to go.”

The Wolf snorted. “Foolish,” he growled, but hopped lightly onto the wooden planks. The raft rocked under his weight, splashing water over the edge, but held. “Well?” He turned, glaring back at us. “Are we going to get this absurdity under way, or not?”

I helped Ariella into the boat, then stepped onto the platform
near the back, grabbing the long wooden pole. As Puck entered, looking pensive, I nodded at Grimalkin, still sitting on the barrel. “You coming or not, cait sith?”

He gave the raft a dubious glance, curling his whiskers. “I suppose I must if I wish to see you to the End of the World.” Standing, he tensed his muscles to leap off the barrel, but hesitated, narrowing his eyes. “Although, I will issue this one warning. If I end up in the river because some idiot decides to rock the boat—” he flattened his ears at Puck, who gave him a wide-eyed look of innocence “—I know several witches who would be happy to bring down a particularly potent curse on said idiot’s head.”

“Wow, if I had a favor for every time someone said that to me …”

Grimalkin did not look amused. Shooting Puck one last feline glare, he leaped to the edge of the raft, walked gracefully along the edge, and sat at the bow, facing out like a haughty figurehead. I gave the pole a push, and the raft moved smoothly into the River of Dreams, gliding toward the End of the World.

F
OR A WHILE, THE RIVER WAS
smooth. Except for the occasional bump of dream debris colliding with the raft, we slid through the water with hardly a ripple. More strange objects floated by us: love letters and wristwatches, stuffed animals and limp balloons. Once, Puck reached down and snatched up a faded copy of
A Midsummer Night’s Dream,
grinned like an idiot and tossed it back into the river.

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