The Iron Queen Part 23

Razor laughed, clamping on to my leg. "See?" he crowed, crawling up to my shoulder. "We help! Razor help! Razor did good?"

I pried him off me and kissed the top of his head, ignoring the rather violent static shock I received. "You did awesome. Now, get to safety. I'll take it from here." He buzzed happily and darted off, vanishing into the crowd.

I took a deep breath and looked around. Ash and Puck had broken away from the main fighting to shield me from the ma.s.ses coming forward. We were going to have to break through those lines, and quickly.

"Ash! Puck!" They whirled toward me, and I pointed forward. "The fortress defenses are down! I'm going in!"

"Hold!" Mab appeared before us, beautiful and frightening, her hair whipping about like snakes. "I will open a path for you," she said, turning toward the raging battlefield. "This will take the last of my power, so be sure not to waste it, half-breed. Are you ready?"

Still reeling from the shock that Mab was helping me, I nodded. The Winter Queen raised her hand, and I felt glamour swirling around her, raw and powerful. She swept her arm down, and a blast of freezing, icicle-strewn wind shot forward, ripping into the crowd, pelting them with shards as sharp as razors. Iron fey screeched and fell back, blinded, covering their eyes and faces, and a path opened before us, leading straight to the castle.

"Go," Mab hissed, her voice slightly strained, and we didn't hesitate. Gripping my sword, with Ash leading and Puck close behind, we charged into the hole.

The fortress loomed overhead, still flashing and spitting lightning as the gremlins swarmed over it. The packrats seemed frozen in place, eyes blank, faces slack, unaware of the battle going on around them. They didn't react as we reached the base of the castle and Ash leaped onto the edge.

I held my breath, praying he wouldn't get blasted off like the dragon, but there were so many gremlins scurrying about, the defenses didn't even notice us. Still, lightning flashed all around us, smelling of ozone and burning flesh, as Ash pulled me up and we pressed ourselves against the wall. Gremlins fell around us, charred and blackened, and I pressed my face into his shoulder.

"A door, a door, my kingdom for a door," Puck muttered.

"There," Ash said, pointing to a balcony several yards above us. "Come on. We'll have to climb."

Scaling the walls wasn't difficult, though it was extremely nerve-racking with all the lighting and the shrieks of dying gremlins. But we reached the balcony in a short amount of time. A small iron door stood nestled in an alcove next to the railing, and I started toward it, eager to get out of the lightning storm. But before I was halfway across the balcony, the entire fortress trembled, like a dog shaking off water, and lurched into motion. I stumbled forward, slamming my shoulder into the door. It wouldn't budge, no matter how hard I wrenched the handle or threw myself against it.

"Dammit!" Puck yelped, ducking as a deadly bolt of electricity slashed down nearby, making my skin crawl. "We're gonna have to find another way in, unless someone happens to have a key!"

The key! Reaching up, I yanked the chain from my neck and shoved the iron key into the hole beneath the handle, praying it would work. I heard a soft click, and slammed myself into the door once again, just as the fortress lurched forward. This time, the door flew inward, and I tumbled over the threshold, Puck and Ash close behind me. Then it slammed shut with a clang, trapping us inside the fortress of the false king.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR.

THE FALSE KING.

Panting, I looked around us, grabbing a pipe to keep steady as the fortress shook and bounced and trembled, trying to buck the intruders off its back. The inside of the false king's fortress looked much like the outside, thrown together with no thought to architectural soundness, or anything that made sense, really. Stairways ran into walls, doors hung from the ceiling, and hallways snaked off to nowhere or curled around themselves. Rooms and floors sat at weird angles, making it difficult to keep your balance, and were filled with strange odds and ends. A tricycle rolled by, banging into a staircase, and a lamp, hanging upside down from the ceiling, flickered erratically.

"Great. The false king's fortress is a giant rabbit hole." Puck ducked as a model plane flew by on a string, barely missing him. "How are we supposed to find anything in this mess?"

I closed my eyes, feeling the dark, Iron glamour pulsing all around me. In Machina's tower, I'd known I would find the Iron King at the very top, close to the sky and the wind, waiting for me. Here, in this crowded, tangled burrow, I could feel him, too. The false king. He knew I was here, an intruder in his private warren. I could feel his glee, his antic.i.p.ation, as the fortress itself suddenly turned its gaze inward, searching for us. For me.

I shivered and opened my eyes. "He's at the very center," I murmured, looping the chain, the watch, and the lifesaving key around my neck once more. "The heart of the fortress. And he's waiting for us."

"Then let's not keep him," Ash muttered, drawing his sword, which glowed like a beacon in the darkness. Huddled close, we crept forward, into the shadowed, tangled mess of the false king's fortress.

We eased our way between mountains of junk, through rooms that made no sense, dodging trash and low-hanging cables. One time we followed a corridor that led us in a twisted spiral back to where we came. Another time we picked our way through a labyrinth of huge pipes, hissing steam. All the while, the dark glamour I felt grew stronger, more eager, the closer we came to the center.

And then, very suddenly, the close, crowded walls opened up, and we stumbled into a vast open arena. Thick black pipes held up the ceiling, hissing madly, and metal poles stuck out of the roof, threads of lightning arcing between them, causing the whole place to flicker like a strobe light.

In the center of the open s.p.a.ce, an iron chair spiked up from the floor, polished and gleaming. Seated motionless on the throne, a body watched us, but under the flickering lights, it was difficult to see it clearly. Then a strand of lightning leaped from the ceiling and slithered rapidly over the throne, lighting it up like a Christmas tree, and I saw the face of the false king for the first time.

"You!" I gasped. My heart lurched, and my stomach dropped to my toes. Of course, it was him. How could I not have seen it before?

"h.e.l.lo, Meghan Chase," purred Ferrum, smiling at me. "I have been waiting for you."

"FERRUM," I WHISPERED, WHISPERED, trying to match the figure of the false king with the sad, angry old man I'd met in the packrat tunnels. He was very much the same, withered and bent over, his arms and legs like brittle twigs and his white hair flowing almost to his feet. Voluminous black robes nearly swallowed his frail figure, and a twisted iron crown rested on his forehead, seeming to weigh him down. His skin had that same metallic tone, like he'd been dunked in liquid mercury, and the lightning crawling over his body didn't seem to faze him a bit. trying to match the figure of the false king with the sad, angry old man I'd met in the packrat tunnels. He was very much the same, withered and bent over, his arms and legs like brittle twigs and his white hair flowing almost to his feet. Voluminous black robes nearly swallowed his frail figure, and a twisted iron crown rested on his forehead, seeming to weigh him down. His skin had that same metallic tone, like he'd been dunked in liquid mercury, and the lightning crawling over his body didn't seem to faze him a bit.

But he glowed with power now, a dark, purplish aura that surrounded him, like it was sucking in all the light. I could feel it pulling at me, trying to drain my life and glamour, suck me dry until I was an empty husk. I shuddered and stepped back, and Ferrum broke into a maniacal grin.

"Yes, you feel it, don't you, girl?" Ferrum raised a claw and beckoned me forward, still smiling. "You feel the void, the vacuum, where my power used to lie. The power of the Iron King. The power you stole from me when you killed Machina!" Ferrum slammed his fist into the chair with a hollow boom, making me jump. I didn't remember him being this strong.

"But now, you are here," he finished, still gazing at me with those crazy, inhuman eyes. "And I will take back what is rightfully mine. For centuries have I waited for this day, when I can reclaim my throne and my right as king!" He leaned forward, speaking fervently, as if to convince us. "It will be different this time. Machina was right to fear the oldbloods. They will destroy us if we do not put them down first. When I kill you and my power is returned, I will take this land and remake it in my own image, where my subjects and slaves can live in peace, and I can rule as I did before, unopposed and unquestioned."

"You're wrong," I said quietly, as his eyes widened, blazing and feverish. "The power of the Iron King was never yours, not since you lost it to Machina all those years ago. It can be earned, and it can be lost, but it can never be taken. Machina gave it to me. Even if you kill me, you won't get back your power. You can't reclaim the past, Ferrum. Let it go. You'll never be the Iron King again."

"Silence!" Ferrum screeched, hitting the throne arm again. "Lies! I have waited for this day too long to listen to your filthy half-truths! Guards, guards!"

Clanking footsteps boomed around us, and a platoon of Iron knights appeared, encircling the arena. Ash and Puck pressed close, and we stood back-to-back, weapons drawn, as the knights came to a stop at the edge, surrounding us in a ring of steel.

Ferrum rose from his throne, floating a few feet from the ground like a spindly wraith, his long hair floating around him. "You will not deny me what is rightfully mine," the false king raged, pointing at me with a long metallic finger. "And your little bodyguards will not stop me from taking it, either. I have some friends of theirs who are dying to see them."

I wasn't surprised when the ranks parted and Rowan stepped out on one side, Tertius on the other. The Iron knight looked bored and cold, but Rowan's grin was inhumanly eager as he drew his sword, spinning it casually as he advanced on Ash.

"Come on, little brother," Rowan sneered, the flickering light washing over his burned, ravaged face. "I've been waiting for this a long time."

"Meghan." Ash eased back a step, torn between protecting me and going after Rowan. I softly touched his arm.

"It's okay." He gave me a desperate, helpless look, and I smiled encouragingly. "I'll be all right. This is what we came here for. Keep Rowan off me, and I'll take care of Ferrum." I hope. I hope. "Puck, will you be all right?" "Puck, will you be all right?"

"No problem, princess." Puck whirled his daggers, facing off against Ash's doppelganger. The look on his face scared me a little. It was one of pure, savage zeal as Puck bared his teeth in a fearsome smile. "I think I'm gonna enjoy this."

Ash held my gaze. "I can't protect you this time," he whispered. "And I know you're ready for this but, Meghan...be careful," he finished, and I nodded.

"You, too." I stepped back, but he pulled me forward and kissed me, quick and desperate, before turning to face Rowan.

"Go on, then," he said softly, his voice shaking a bit. "Go save us all."

With my head up and my resolve firmly in place, I turned and walked toward the center of the room. This was it. Ash and Puck couldn't help me now. I had to do this on my own.

Ferrum waited for me before his throne, a skeletal wraith-creature, his robes and hair billowing behind him. The screech and clash of weapons echoed behind me as two of the people I loved most in the world fought for their lives, but I didn't turn back to look. My gaze was only for the false king as I stopped a few yards from the throne, my sword held loosely at my side.

Ferrum watched me for a moment, hanging in the air like a vulture, and he broke into a slow, eager smile. "This can be simple and painless, you know," he whispered. "Kneel before me now, and you will not suffer. Your end will be as peaceful as a lullaby, singing you to sleep."

I gripped my sword, swinging it into a ready position as Ash had taught me. "We both know that's not going to happen."

Ferrum smiled. "Very well," he said, and his arms rose away from his sides. I felt him drawing glamour from the fortress, from the poisoned land and even his subjects, sucking the dark power into himself. His fingers flexed, growing long and pointed, turning into gleaming blades. "I prefer it this way, myself." And he flew at me.

He was insanely fast. I barely had time to see him coming, a blur of silver across the floor, before he was in front of me, swiping at my face. I knocked away the stabbing fingers and slashed at him in return, but he was already gone, zipping to the side. I felt his claws strike my armor, and then a blinding pain as they sliced through the scales like paper, cutting into my arm. I whirled and swiped at him, my blade pa.s.sing through empty air as Ferrum darted away, clear across the room in a blink.

My arm burned, the silver dragon-scale spattered with red where the false king had cut me. Ferrum drifted closer, slower this time, his mouth twisted in a hungry smile. He knew he was faster than me. I closed out the pain and raised my sword again, and the false king laughed in triumph.

"Is that the best you can do, Meghan Chase? All the power of the Iron King at your fingertips, and you can do nothing. How disappointing." A blink and he was close again, smiling. I threw myself back, but Ferrum didn't press his advantage, shaking his head like a disappointed grandfather.

"You have no idea how to wield that power, do you, girl? It sits, smoldering inside you, an untapped flood. Or are you just saving it for later?" He was mocking me now, confident in his victory, and that p.i.s.sed me off. I lunged at him with a snarl, slashing at his face, intending to wipe that ugly sneer from his mouth. He dodged, thrust out a hand, and I was. .h.i.t with a blast of pure Iron glamour. My sword was torn from my hands. The force knocked me back, sent me tumbling to the edge of the arena, gasping and winded at the feet of the Iron knights. Over the ringing in my ears, I heard Ash's howl of fury and the false king's mocking laughter.

"Get up!" he snapped as I staggered to my knees. I tried, but the floor was spinning and my stomach felt like it had been pulled inside out. The false king barked another laugh. "Pathetic!" he crowed. "You are weak! Weak, to be carrying the power of the Iron King. I don't know what Machina was thinking, to waste it on you! No matter. I will cut it out of your weak human body and use it as it was meant to be used, for the glory of myself and my kingdom."

He raised his hands, claws smeared with my blood, and drifted toward me. Dark, poisonous Iron glamour pulsed all around us, ebbing from the walls and from every shadow of the fortress, feeding him, empowering him. I couldn't beat Ferrum like this. I was going to have to fight fire with fire and hope I wouldn't pa.s.s out from the effort.

I gazed across the arena to my sword, lying in the middle of the floor, flickering under the lights. I remembered how I had once twisted the shape of an iron ring, made iron bolts change direction in midair. I remembered how Ferrum made his own fingers change, becoming deadly and sharp, and concentrated on my weapon, seeing the Iron glamour in my mind. The sword glowed white-hot, stretched, and lengthened, turning from a sword to a spear. Nausea rose up as my Summer magic reacted violently to the Iron glamour, cramping my stomach and making the room spin, but I bit my lip and gave the magic one last, desperate pull.

Ferrum was right over me, his claws poised to end my life, when the spear flew from the floor, streaked across the room, and hit him from behind. I saw it erupt from his chest, striking the armor of one of the knights, and I scrambled away as Ferrum arched back with a scream, clutching the spear through his middle.

Staggering to the center of the arena, I collapsed as the nausea overtook me, gasping and trying not to retch. It was over. We had won, somehow. Now all we had to do was get past Rowan and Tertius, and make it back to our side. Hopefully, the Iron knights would let us go now that Ferrum was dead- High-pitched, frantic laughter stopped me in my tracks.

When I raised my head, my blood ran cold. Ferrum was still standing, the spear through his chest, glamour snapping and flaring around him like a thunderstorm. "You think you can defeat me with iron, Meghan Chase?" he howled. "I am am iron! I was the first Iron fey born into this world-it runs in my veins, my blood, my very essence! Your pathetic use of Iron glamour only makes me stronger!" iron! I was the first Iron fey born into this world-it runs in my veins, my blood, my very essence! Your pathetic use of Iron glamour only makes me stronger!"

Reaching down, he pulled the spear from his chest in one smooth, contemptuous motion. I struggled upright as the false king rose into the air, hair and clothes whipping around him in the gale. "Now," Ferrum droned, lifting the spear above his head, "it is time to end this."

Lightning arced from the ceiling to the tip of the spear, lancing down and crackling around the false king. I felt my hair stand up, rising away from my neck, as Ferrum lifted his other hand and pointed at me.

There was a blinding flash. Something slammed into my chest, and the noise of the world cut out, as abruptly as if someone had switched off a television.

Everything went white.

"YOU CANNOT BEAT HIM."

Blinking, I squinted against the glare, shielding my eyes as I gazed around. All around me, everything was white. No ground, no shadows, nothing but a blank white void as empty as s.p.a.ce.

But I knew he was here, with me.

"Where are you, Machina?" I asked, my voice echoing into the emptiness.

"I have always been here, Meghan Chase," was Machina's reply, coming from everywhere and nowhere. "I was given to you, freely and without constraint. It is you who has rejected me every time."

That didn't make any sense, and I shook my head to clear it, trying to remember where I was. "Where is everyone? Where is...Ferrum! I was fighting Ferrum. I have to get back. Where is he?"

"You cannot beat him," Machina said again. "Not the way you are fighting. He is the essence of Iron's corruption, feeding off the land like a bloated tick. His power is too great, and you cannot defeat him with Iron glamour alone."

"I'm going to have to try," I said angrily. "I don't have a magic Witchwood arrow to kill him like I did you. I just have myself."

"The Witchwood arrow was only a conduit for your own Summer glamour. It was powerful, yes, but it only worked because you are Oberon's daughter, and his living, healing Summer blood flows through you. In essence, you injected the Iron King with your own Summer magic, and my body could not take it. It is the same with Ferrum."

"Well, I can't do that anymore. Every time I use Summer magic, the Iron gets in the way. I can't use one without the other tainting it. I can't win like that. I can't-" Close to despair, I sank to my knees, burying my face in one hand. "I have to win," I whispered. "I have to. Everyone is depending on me. There must be a way to use my Summer magic. Dammit, my father is the Summer King, there has to be a way to separate-"

And then it hit me.

I remembered my father. Not the Seelie King-my human father, Paul. I could see us sitting at the old piano, while he tried to explain how music worked. I could see the Iron glamour in the notes, the strict lines and rigid rules that made up the score, but the music itself was a vortex of song and pure, swirling emotion. They weren't separate ent.i.ties, creative magic and Iron glamour. They were one; cold logic and wild emotion, merged together to create something truly beautiful.

"Of course," I whispered, reeling from the understanding. "I was using them separately, of course they reacted to each other. That's what you were trying to tell me, wasn't it? This power-me, you, Summer and Iron glamour-I can't use one or the other. They're useless separated. I have to...make them one."

It was so simple, now that I thought about it. Paul had shown me they could combine; it was nothing new. This was why Machina gave his power to me-I was the only one who could merge them, a half-breed who could wield both Summer and Iron.

I felt a presence behind me, but didn't turn. There would be nothing there if I did. "Are you ready?" Machina whispered. No, not Machina, the manifestation of the Iron glamour, my my Iron glamour. The magic I had been rejecting, running away from, all this time. Using it, but never really accepting it. That ended today. It was time. Iron glamour. The magic I had been rejecting, running away from, all this time. Using it, but never really accepting it. That ended today. It was time.

"I'm ready," I murmured, and felt hands on my shoulders, long-fingered and powerful. Steel cables began coiling around me, around us, tightening as they slithered over my skin. About the time they stabbed into me, wiggling under my skin and crawling up toward my heart, I closed my eyes. Machina's presence was fading away, growing fainter and fainter, though right before he vanished altogether, he bent close and whispered in my ear: "You've always had the power to defeat the false king. He is a corrupter, a life-taker, poisoning everything he touches. He will try to drain your magic by force. You can defeat him, but you must be brave. Together, we can restore this land."

The cables finally reached my heart, and a jolt like an electrical current slammed into my body, as all that was left of the Iron King faded completely and was gone.

I GASPED AND OPENED MY EYES. GASPED AND OPENED MY EYES.

I was in Ferrum's chamber, lying on my back, watching the lightning threads dance over the ceiling. Only a few seconds must have pa.s.sed since Ferrum hit me, as the false king was still standing in the middle of the arena with his arm outstretched. Beyond him, I could just make out Ash and Puck, still locked in battle with their opponents. Ash was shouting something, but his voice blurred in my ears, coming from far away. I felt dizzy, numb, and my skin tingled, as if all my limbs were asleep, but I was alive.

Something light slithered over my neck, tickling my skin. I reached up and felt cold metal; the pocket watch the Clockmaker had given me, so long ago. Lifting it up, I saw immediately that there was no saving it; the electricity had cracked the gla.s.s and melted the edges of the gold casing. The delicate hands were frozen in place. From the looks of the damage, it seemed the timepiece had taken the full brunt of the lightning bolt, one hundred and sixty-one hours from the time the Clockmaker had given it to me.

Thank you, I told him silently, and unlooped the chain from my neck, letting the watch clatter to the ground. I told him silently, and unlooped the chain from my neck, letting the watch clatter to the ground.

Ferrum's eyes widened as I struggled to my knees, then my feet, fighting to stay upright as the floor lurched and spun. "Still alive?" he hissed as I shook off the last of the dizziness and faced him, clenching my fists. Everything was clearer now. I could feel the Iron glamour of the fortress pulsing all around me, and the black hole that was the false king, sucking it all away. I probed further and sensed the glamour of the Nevernever holding out against the Iron Realm, growing weaker as the Iron Kingdom pressed forward. I could feel the heartbeat of both lands, and the creatures dying on either side.

The power of the Iron King can be given, or can be lost, but it cannot be taken.

I suddenly realized what I had to do.

I trembled, wishing there had been more time-that Ash and I could've had more time. If I'd known, I might've done things differently. But beyond that moment of regret, I felt calm, certain, filled with a resolve that pushed back all fear or doubt. I was ready. There was no other way.

I looked at Ferrum and smiled.

The false king hissed and sent another bolt of lightning at me. I raised my hand, Summer and Iron glamour swirling around me, and knocked it aside, sending it into the wall over Ferrum's head. The energy exploded in a shower of sparks, and Ferrum screeched in rage. For a moment, I held my breath, waiting for the pain and nausea to hit.

Nothing. No pain, no sickness. Summer and Iron glamour had merged perfectly, one no longer tainting the other. I reached out and called my spear to me, ripping it from Ferrum's grasp, grabbing it as it smacked into my palm. Ferrum's eyes bugged, and glamour flared around him like a dark flame. I flourished the spear and sank into a ready stance.

"Come on then, old man," I called, ignoring my pounding heart, the way my hands were shaking. "You throw like a girl. You want my power? Come get it!"