Iron's Prophecy (The Iron Fey #4.5)(17)
I heard Ash’s warning shout, sensed that both heads had broken off their attacks and were now coming for me. I felt the speed of the heads as they darted in, lethal fangs extending to pierce me and swallow me whole, and smiled.
Too late, I’m afraid.
The roots of the Wishing Tree, thick and gnarled and ancient, erupted from the dirt around me, surging into the air. They shot forward to meet the sentinel, wrapping around the huge coils, pinning it to the ground.
Hissing, the snake thrashed and flailed its powerful body, snapping the tough, thick roots and wiggling free. It was strong, stronger than I expected. Triumphant, the heads reared up again, ready to strike. But an ice-spear flew through the cage of branches, striking one head, and a huge raven swooped in to peck at the eye of the second. The heads flinched, distracted for a brief moment, and that was all the time I needed.
I called the roots again, but this time, my Iron glamour surged forth, infusing the wood as it wrapped around the snake. The sentinel hissed and thrashed again, trying to break free, but the ancient roots were streaked with iron now and as strong as cables. The snake’s thrashing slowed as the iron roots coiled around it, and it shrieked in frustration.
Gripping my sword, I walked forward, still sending power flowing into the tree, the merged glamour of Summer and Iron. I passed the first head, which hissed and tried to snap at me, failing. I walked calmly past the second, to the same result, until I stood in the center of the coil of roots and snake. And I closed my eyes again, searching for the heartbeat, the pulse of life that pounded through the huge sentinel. I followed that beat, the coils of both snake and tree thrashing wildly around me, until I found it. A chink in the snake’s armor, a hole barely the size of my fist. The sentinel wailed, beady red eyes glaring at me through the branches, and I gave it a sad smile.
“I’m sorry. But I am the Iron Queen, and you are in my way.”
Raising my sword, I drove it, point down, into the crack between scales, sinking it deep. The sentinel screamed, a high piercing wail, and convulsed madly, shaking the roots of the tree. I staggered away, clutching my sword, as it wailed and thrashed, fighting the inevitable. At last, its struggles slowed, the light went out of its crimson eyes and it finally stopped moving.
I slumped against a branch, breathing hard, my body spent from using so much power. Pushing myself off the root, I sheathed my blade as Ash and Puck came through the web, both their expressions blank with disbelief. I grinned at them tiredly.
“There, that wasn’t so bad,” I said, still trying to catch my breath. “So, why did you guys have such a hard time, before?”
Puck blinked at me, and Ash approached until he stood only a few feet away. Silently, he met my gaze and, lowering his head, gave me a very solemn bow. “You are truly a queen of Faery,” he said in a voice only I could hear. “I am honored to be your knight.”
A lump caught in my throat, but at that moment, the Wishing Tree flared up and blazed with light. I flinched and turned away as hundreds, if not thousands, of candles sprang to life along the branches, making the entire tree glow in the darkness like a beacon.
“Oh, yeah,” Puck commented, staring up at the galaxy of flickering lights. “I remember this. Bit of advice, princess—only blow out the one candle. Bad things happen if you try to wish for more than one thing.”
Warily, we stepped beneath the limbs of the tree, feeling the heat from a thousand tiny flames against our faces. I caught a flash of gray fur overhead, and Grimalkin peered down at us from one of the branches, the candlelight reflected in his golden eyes. “The wish has already been spoken,” he purred, waving his tail. “The way to the oracle is clear. When you are ready, simply douse a candle and close your eyes. The tree will do the rest.”
“Yeah, and what else will it do, I wonder?” Puck muttered, giving both Grimalkin and the flickering candles a dubious look. “You sure you voiced the wish exactly right, cat? No loopholes or funny turns of phrase that could be used against us? I don’t wanna wake up as a frog or find myself on the bottom of the ocean or something crazy like that.”
The cat scratched an ear, unconcerned. “I suppose you will have to take your chances.”
I spotted a candle on a low hanging limb, its orange flame dancing weakly in the shadows. “Come on,” I told the boys quietly. “If this is the only way to the oracle, we have to do this. No turning back now.”
Ash moved beside me and took my hand. “We don’t want to get separated,” he murmured, lacing our fingers together. “There will be a cost, later, that’s how it works. The Wishing Tree always demands a price, no matter what Grimalkin says.”
My stomach twisted, but Ash gave me a reassuring smile and squeezed my hand. I felt the smooth metal of his wedding band press against my skin, and I smiled back.
Half turning, I held out the other hand to Puck. He hesitated, still eyeing the tree, and I wrinkled my nose at him.
“Robin Goodfellow,” I said, giving him a challenging smile, “don’t tell me you’re afraid.”
His green eyes flashed with familiar defiance, and he stepped close, taking my hand. “Not on your life, princess,” he returned, smirking. “Though don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. If we all end up as llamas, I’m going to spend the rest of my life following you around saying ‘I told you so’ in llama-ese.”