The Iron Knight (12 page)

How long we floated down the river, I didn’t know. The night sky, both above and around us, never lightened. The Wolf lay down, put his head on his enormous paws and dozed. Puck and Ariella spoke quietly in the center of the raft, catching up on many years of separation. They sounded at ease with each other, comfortable and content, and Ariella’s laughter
floated up occasionally, something I hadn’t heard in a long, long time. It made me smile, but I didn’t join them in reminiscing. Things were still shaky between Puck and me; I knew the dark, lingering memories of the hollow had pushed both of us to the edge that night, and we had, temporarily, put it behind us again, but I didn’t trust myself just yet. Besides, I was lost in my own thoughts. Ariella’s previous question had reminded me of the girl I was doing this for. I wondered where she was, what she was doing at that very moment. I wondered if she thought of me, too.

“Prince.” Grimalkin’s voice suddenly drifted up from near my feet. I looked down at the cait sith, standing beside me. “I suggest we stop for a bit,” he said, waving his tail to keep his balance as the raft bobbed up and down in the current. “I am weary of sitting in one place, and I am not the only one.” He nodded to where Ariella and Puck sat together on the planks. Ariella was slumped against Puck’s shoulder, dozing quietly. I felt a tiny twinge of anger, seeing them like that, but Puck glanced back at me, offered a tiny, rueful shrug, and I squashed it down. It was ridiculous to be jealous, to feel anything. That part of my life was gone. I might regret it, I might wish it were different, but I could not bring it back. I’d known that for a long time.

I steered the raft to the bank, toward a sandy bar beneath ancient, moss-covered trees. As Puck and I pulled it to shore, Ariella woke, gazing around blearily.

“Where—”

“Relax, Ari. We’re just stopping for a bit.” Puck released the boat and stretched, raising long limbs over his head. “You know, it’s always rafts and skinny little pole boats that you have to suffer through on these types of trips. Why can’t we travel to the End of the World in a yacht?”

T
HE
W
OLF LEAPED
off the raft and stretched, baring his fangs in an enormous yawn. Shaking water from his fur, he looked
around at the enormous trees and panted a grin. “I’m off to hunt,” he stated simply. “It shouldn’t take long.” He glanced back at me, wrinkling his long muzzle. “I’d advise you not to venture into the forest, little prince. You’re in the Deep Wyld now, and I’d hate to come back to find you all eaten. Well, except for the cat. He can get himself eaten anytime he wants.” With that, he turned and bounded off, his black form merging with the shadows.

A few seconds later, we realized Grimalkin had also vanished. He’d probably slipped away into the forest as soon as the boat had touched ground, with no explanation and no hint to when he’d return. That left the three of us, alone.

“You know, we could just leave them,” Puck suggested, grinning to show he wasn’t completely serious. “What? Don’t give me that look, Ari. Wolfman is probably right at home, and we couldn’t get rid of Furball even if we wanted to. We’d be halfway to the End of the World and find him sleeping at the bottom of the boat.”

Ariella continued to frown disapprovingly, and Puck threw up his hands. “Fine. Guess we’re stuck here until their furry highnesses deign to show up again.” He eyed each of us in turn, then sighed. “Right, then. Camp. Food. Fire. I’ll get right on that.”

Not long after, a cheerful fire crackled in a shallow pit, trying valiantly to throw back the darkness, failing to do so. The shadows seemed thicker near the River of Dreams, as if Night itself had taken offense to the flickering campfire and was crowding the edges of the light, seeking to swallow it whole. Light was an intruder here, much as we were.

Ariella sat cross-legged in the sand, idly poking the fire with a stick, while Puck and I attended to the business of finding food. Puck had somehow fashioned a pole from glamour, a stick, and a tangle of string from his pocket, but fishing in the River of Dreams was proving to be a strange and frustrating
affair. He managed to pull a couple fish out of the river early, but they were odd, unnatural things: long and black like eels, with oversize teeth that snapped at us when we tried to handle them and bit through the sticks we tried to spear them with. We finally decided it wasn’t worth the hassle of a lost finger and let them flop back into the river. His other catches included a yellow boot, a giant turtle that asked us for a pocket watch, and what looked like a large, normal catfish. That is, until it started sobbing enormous tears, begging us to return it to its family. I might’ve ignored the wailing fish and stuck it over the fire anyway, but the softhearted Good fellow let it go.

“You realize you’ve just been duped by a fish,” I said, watching the catfish grin at me before slipping into the dark waters, lost from view. Puck shrugged.

“Hey, it was going to name one of its grandfish after me,” he said, tossing the line into the water again. “That’s one of my rules, you know. I refuse to eat anything that names its kid after me.”

“Fish don’t have children,” I deadpanned. “Fish have fry.”

“Even so.”

“Fine.” I rolled my eyes and stepped back from the edge. “I’m done with this. Let me know if you manage to catch anything useful.”

I wandered back to the fire, where Ariella looked up and smiled faintly, as if she knew exactly how the fishing had gone.

“Here,” she said, and tossed me a round, pinkish globe. I caught it automatically, blinking as I realized what it was. A peach, fuzzy and soft and nearly the size of my fist. I glanced beside her and saw she had a whole basket of them.

“Where did you find these?” I asked in amazement. She chuckled.

“The river,” she replied, nodding to the dark, glittering
water. “You can find almost anything a human would dream of, provided you know what to look for. While you and Puck have been wrestling with nightmares, I just keep an eye on the surface and let the dream debris come.”

“Sounds like you’ve done this before,” I said, taking a seat beside her.

“Not really,” she admitted. “I’ve never been to the river in person. But as a seer I can sometimes see into dreams, whether they be faery or mortal. Dreamwalking, I believe it’s called. And sometimes, I can even shape those dreams, make a person see what I want them to.”

“Like you did with mine.”

She was silent a moment, gazing back into the fire. “Yes,” she murmured finally. “I’m sorry, Ash. But I wanted you to see what would’ve happened if Meghan had lost. I wanted you to understand why I chose what I did, even though I knew it would hurt.”

“Did you …” I paused, gathering my thoughts. “Did you see my dreams … before?” Before I found Meghan, before I learned to freeze out my emotions—the nightmares that kept me awake at night, because I knew closing my eyes would force me to live that day over and over again.

Ariella shivered, drawing her knees to her chest, and nodded. “I wished I could have helped you.” She sighed, resting her chin on a knee. “Between you and Puck, it was all I could do not to let you know I was still alive.”

I frowned. Puck had had nightmares, too? I pushed that thought away, unwilling to dwell on it. If he had been suffering like me, good. He deserved it. “So,” I asked, changing the subject, “what comes next?”

Ariella sighed. “I don’t know,” she murmured, almost to herself. “Everything is so hazy now. I’ve never been this far into the wyldwood.”

“I haven’t, either.”

“But that doesn’t worry you, does it?” She hugged herself and gazed out over the river. “You’ll do whatever it takes, won’t you? You’ve always been that way. Completely fearless.” She shivered again and closed her eyes, seeming to sink into herself. “I wish I could be like that.”

“I’m not fearless,” I told her. “There are a lot of things that scare me.” Failure. My own savage, Unseelie nature. Being unable to save those I had sworn to protect. Having my heart ripped from me once more. “I’m not fearless,” I said again. “Not by a long shot.”

Ariella gave me a sideways glance, as if she knew what I was thinking. “Yes, but you aren’t afraid of the things the rest of us are afraid of,” she said wryly. “The things that
should
terrify you don’t.”

“Like what?” I challenged, mostly to get her talking, to argue with me as she had before. This new Ariella, quiet and sad, bowed under the weight of terrible knowledge and countless secrets, was more than I could take. I wanted her to laugh again, to smile like she used to. Grinning, I bit into the peach, adopting a careless, defiant posture. “Name something you think I should be afraid of.”

“Dragons,” Ariella said immediately, making me snort. “Giants, hydras, manticores. Take your pick. Not only do you lack a healthy respect for them, you go charging into their lairs to challenge them to a fight.”

“I have a healthy respect for manticores,” I argued. “And I avoid picking fights with dragons. You’re lumping me together with Goodfellow.”

“Regardless—” Ariella mock-glared at me “—it’s not the same. I have a healthy respect for kelpies, but that doesn’t mean I’d ever go swimming with one.” She wrinkled her nose at me. “Not like you and Puck, seeing how long you could stay on that kelpie’s back without drowning or getting eaten.”

I shrugged. “I know my abilities. Why should I fear something that probably can’t kill me?”

Ariella sighed. “You’re missing the point. Or, perhaps you’re making it for me, I’m not sure.” She shook her head, giving me a lopsided smile, and for a moment, it was like old times again. Me, Puck, and Ariella, braving unknown territory, not knowing what was to come.

I was suddenly aware of how close Ariella was, our shoulders barely touching. She seemed to realize it as well, for we gazed at each other, hardly breathing. The river flowed by us, and farther downstream Puck was shouting something, but for a quiet heartbeat it was just me and Ariella and nothing else.

A yell interrupted us. Puck was on the banks of the river, pulling and yanking at his line, his face intense. From the looks of it, whatever was on the other end was enormous, making the string lurch up and down as it fought. In the center of the river, the water boiled up like a geyser, and Puck yanked harder on the string. Then, with an explosion of debris and mist, a huge serpentine form rose fifteen feet into the air, towering over Puck, holding the line in a curved talon. Blue, green and silver scales glinted in the moonlight as a dragon lowered its massive horned head—mane and moustache rippling behind it—to glare at Puck with somber gold eyes.

“Oh,” Puck said in a breathless voice, staring at it from where he sat in the mud and sand. “Um. Hey.”

The eyes blinked. The solemn gaze shifted to Puck’s left hand, narrowing. Puck looked down. “Oh, the hook.” He grinned sheepishly. “Yeah. Sorry ‘bout that. No harm done, right?”

The dragon snorted, filling the breeze with the scent of fish and cherry blossoms. Rippling like sea waves, it turned and coiled through the air, skimming the surface of the River of Dreams, before it sank beneath the depths once more.

Puck stood, dusted himself off, and sauntered toward us.

“Well, that was … interesting.” He grinned. “Guess I’ve been officially slapped on the wrist for fishing in the River of Dreams without a license. Hey, is that a peach?”

The Wolf appeared sometime later, gliding from the dark with no warning whatsoever, pacing up to the fire. Puck and Ariella were both asleep, peach pits scattered about, and I had taken first watch, sitting on a log with my sword in my lap. Grimalkin had not yet returned, but no one was really worried. It was an unspoken knowledge about the cait sith: he would reappear when it was time to leave.

The Wolf padded into the flickering light and flopped down across from me with a huff. A few feet away, Puck stirred, muttering something about peaches and dragons, but didn’t wake.

The Wolf and I watched each other over the dying campfire for several minutes. “So,” the Wolf began with a flash of bright fangs, “this quest of yours. You never told me much about it, little prince. It would be nice to know the reason behind this insane journey down the River of Dreams. I know you want to reach the End of the World, but I don’t know why. What lies at the End of the World that is so important?”

“The Testing Grounds,” I said quietly, seeing no reason to hide the fact. The Wolf pricked his ears.

“The Testing Grounds,” he repeated, unsurprised, and nodded. “I suspected as much. Then, if you wish to go to the Testing Grounds, you must be looking for something.” He paused, eyeing me over the flames, eyes glowing in the darkness. “Something you lack. Something very important. Your Name? No.” He shook his head, talking more to himself than to me. “I have a feeling you already know your True Name. What, then? You have power. You have immortality, in a sense …” He paused, and his yellow-green eyes turned gleeful. “Ahhh, yes, I know why. There is only one thing left.”
He looked up, smiling wickedly. “You’re here because of the girl, aren’t you? You’re hoping to earn a soul.”

I gave him a cold stare. “What do you know about that?”

The Wolf barked a laugh, and Ariella stirred. “I know you are a fool, boy,” he said, lowering his voice to a low rumble. “Souls are not meant for us. They tie you to the world, make you mortal, make you like
them.
Being human … it will drive you mad, little prince. Especially one like you.”

“What do you mean?”

The Wolf blinked slowly. “I could tell you,” he said quietly, “but it would not sway you. I can smell your determination. I know you will see this through to the end. So why waste the breath?” He yawned and sat up, testing the breeze. “The cat is close. Pity he didn’t get lost.”

I turned just as Grimalkin emerged from the bushes nearby, giving me a bored look. “If you are waiting for sunrise, prince, you are wasting your time,” he announced without preamble, and strode past me with his tail in the air. “The light will not penetrate this far into the Deep Wyld, and we have attracted too much attention sitting around here.” He did not look back as he trotted in the direction of the raft. “Wake the others,” he commanded, his voice drifting back to us. “It is time for us to go.”