Julie Kagawa - The Iron Knight

“She was already dead, prince.” Grimalkin paused and looked back at me, narrowing his eyes. “She perished the day you swore your oath against Goodfellow. Faery brought her back, but she always knew how it would end.”

“You could have told us,” Puck chimed in, his voice flat and strangely subdued.

Grimalkin sneezed and sat up to face me, his golden eyes knowing. “If I had, would you have let her go?”

Neither of us answered, and the cat nodded at our silence. “We are wasting time,” he continued, waving his tail as he stood. “Let us return to the mortal world so that we may be done with this. Grieve for your loss, but be grateful for the time that you had. She would have wanted it that way.” He sniffed and lashed his tail. “Now, are you going to use that globe, or should I wish for wings to fly back to the wyldwood?”

I sighed and raised the glass, watching the magic swirl within. Taking it in both hands, I gazed past it to the End of the World, at the brilliant void that never ceased to amaze. With a deep breath, I brought my hands together and crushed the glass between them, releasing the magic into the air. It expanded outward in a burst of light, engulfing us, and for a moment everything went completely white.

THE LIGHT FADED, and the sounds of the human world began: car engines and street traffic, honking horns and the shuffle of feet over pavement. I blinked and gazed around, trying to get my bearings. We were in a narrow alleyway between two large buildings, overflowing Dumpsters and heaps of trash lining the walls. A ragged lump in a cardboard box stirred, mumbled sleepily, and turned its back on us, frightening a large rat that went scurrying over the wall.

“Oh, of course.” Puck wrinkled his nose, stepping back from a pile of rags crawling with maggots. “With all the meadows and forests and big swaths of wilderness that I know still exist in the human world, where do we end up? A filthy, rat-infested alleyway. That’s just great.”

Grimalkin leaped atop a Dumpster, looking surprisingly natural in the urban environment, like a large alley cat prowling the streets. “There is a trod not far from here,” he stated calmly, picking his way across the rim. “If we hurry, we should reach it before nightfall. Follow me.”

“Wait, you already know where you are?” Puck demanded as we edged toward the mouth of the alley, stepping over trash and piles of debris. “How does that work, cat?”

“Most cities are very much the same, Goodfellow.” Grimalkin reached the edge of the sidewalk and peered back, waving his tail. “Trods are everywhere, if you know where to look. Also, I am a cat.” And he trotted off down the street.

“Hold it, ice-boy,” Puck said as I started to follow. “You’re forgetting something.” He pointed to my sword, hanging at my side. “Normal humans don’t walk around city streets with big, pointy weapons. Or if they do, they tend to draw unwanted attention. Better give it to me for now. At least until we reach the wyldwood.”

I hesitated, and Puck rolled his eyes. “I swear I’m not going to lose it, or drop it in the gutter, or give it to a homeless guy. Come on, Ash. This is part of being human. You have to blend in.”

I handed the belt and sheath over reluctantly, and Puck looped it around one shoulder. “There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“If you lose that …”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll kill me. Old news, ice-boy.” Puck shook his head and motioned me forward. “After you.”

We emerged from the alleyway onto a sidewalk bustling with people, rushing by with barely a glance. Overhead, huge towers of glass and steel loomed against the sky, flashing in the evening sun. Cars honked and slid through the streams of traffic like giant metal fish, and the smell of asphalt, smoke, and exhaust fumes hung thick on the air.

The changes were subtle, but I could still see a difference. The world wasn’t quite as sharp as it had been. Edges were dull, colors not quite so bright anymore. Sounds were muted; the murmur of voices around me had merged into a babble of human noise, and I could no longer pick out conversations just by listening to them.

I took a step forward, and someone ran into me, knocking me back a pace. “Watch where you’re going, jackass,” the human snapped, shooting me a glare without breaking stride. I blinked and joined the flow of street traffic, following Grimalkin as he expertly wove his way through the multitude of feet and swinging legs. No one seemed to notice him, or Puck, walking right beside me, glamoured and invisible. Even on a crowded sidewalk, they swerved around him or stepped out of his way, often at the last second, without even knowing there was a faery in their midst. But I caught several glances—curious, appreciative, or challenging—as I maneuvered my way through the crowd, jostling and bumping into me. It was a good thing Puck still had my sword; otherwise I might’ve been tempted to draw it to get them all out of my way.

As I swerved out of the path of yet another human, I brushed against a wrought-iron fence encircling the base of a small tree on the edge of the sidewalk and instinctively recoiled, jerking back from the metal. But the weakness and pain of being so close to iron didn’t come, though I did earn a few strange looks from various passersby. Cautiously, I reached out and touched the fence, ready to yank my hand back as centuries of fey survival screamed at me to stop. But the iron, once akin, for me, to touching live coals while being violently ill, was cold and harmless beneath my fingers. I looked up the street at the long line of trees similarly encased in iron, and grinned.

“Will you stop doing that?” Puck hissed a moment later, shuddering as I trailed my fingers along every fence that we passed. “You’re freaking me out. I get chills every time we pass one of those things.”

I laughed but moved away from the fences and the iron, back to the center of the walk where traffic was thickest. Now that I knew they wouldn’t just swerve around me, it was easier to dodge and weave through the unending masses. “Does this mean I can put a fence around my yard and you’ll leave me alone?” I asked, grinning back at Puck. He snorted.

“Don’t get cocky, ice-boy. I’ve been playing with humans since long before you ever thought of becoming one.”

The crowds thinned as it got later, and Grimalkin led us farther downtown. Streetlights flickered to life, and the buildings lining the streets grew more run-down and shabby. Broken windows and graffiti were commonplace, and I could sense eyes on me from shadows and dark corridors.

“That’s a fancy jacket, boy.”

I stopped as four humans melted out of an alley, wearing hoodies and bandannas, sidling up to block my path. The biggest, a mean-looking thug with a shaved head covered in tattoos, sauntered forward, leering at me. I gave him and his companions a quick once-over, searching for horns or claws or sharp, pointed teeth. Nothing. Not half-breeds, then. Not exiles from the Nevernever, scraping out a living in the mortal world. They were human through and through.

“My boy Rico here. He was just thinking that he needed a fancy coat like that one.” The thug leader smiled, showing off a gold tooth. “So, why don’t you hand it over, boy? That, and leave your wallet on the ground, too. Wouldn’t want to have to bash your pretty head in, now, would we?”

Beside me, Puck sighed, shaking his head. “Not terribly bright, are they?” he asked, gazing at the leader, who paid him no attention. Stepping away, he slipped around behind them, grinning and cracking his knuckles. “I guess we have time for one last massacre. For old time’s sake.”

“Hey, you deaf, punk?” The thug leader shoved me, and I took a step back. “Or are you so scared you pissed your pants?” The others snickered and drew forward, surrounding me like hungry dogs. I didn’t move. There was a flash of metal, and the leader brandished a knife, holding it before my face. “I’ll ask nicely one last time. Gimme that coat, or I’m gonna start feeding you your fingers.”