Iron's Prophecy (The Iron Fey #4.5)(18)

I quickly pushed away the thought of Puck as a llama before I started laughing. I needed to stay serious, focus on what lay ahead. The oracle waited for me, and she held the answers about my child. But I wasn’t afraid anymore. Not with Ash and Puck beside me, their fingers wrapped tightly around mine, protective auras glowing strong. Just like old times, as Puck said. The three of us had been through so much together and always won; this wasn’t going to be any different.

I squeezed their hands, raised my head and blew out the candle. A thin wisp of smoke curled into the air, and that was the last thing I saw.





CHAPTER SIX

I opened my eyes, blinking in confusion. I didn’t remember closing them, but I must have, because everything was different. The glen and the Wishing Tree were gone, as was the body of the monstrous snake. A tunnel of thick black brambles surrounded me, bristling with thorns, the branches creaking and slithering against one another like they were alive.

“Well, we’re here,” Puck said, releasing my hand to pat himself down, as if making sure he was all there. “Looks like we made it in one piece, too.” He peered past me to where Ash stood on the other side, squeezing my fingers in a death grip. “And all together. I was half expecting us to land in different corners of the Nevernever, or at the very least surrounded by nasties wanting to tear our heads off. Looks like Furball actually pulled it off.”

“What did you expect, Goodfellow?” Grimalkin sauntered by, tail in the air, and did not look at us. “I am a cat.”

I stole a glance at Ash. He looked relieved as well, though I could tell he was worried about the whole situation. He, too, had been expecting trouble the moment we arrived.

“Stay alert,” he told us softly as we moved forward, following Grimalkin down the tunnel of thorns. “Just because there are no surprises now doesn’t mean there won’t be some later.”

Ahead of us, the ceiling of the tunnel began to shimmer, rippling with waves of blue light. As we reached the end of the corridor, the passage opened up, and we stood at the edge of a small grotto surrounded by thorns. Overhead, the Briars shut out the sky, branches woven so tightly together the area felt more like a cave than anything else. The walls were filled with human clutter: toys, books, picture frames, trophies, stuffed animals, all dangling from the thorns or speared upon a long black spike. Grimalkin had vanished within the clutter, like another stuffed animal in the huge pile of toys. A porcelain doll with a missing eye stared at me as I ventured past the lip of the tunnel into the chamber.

“Well, that’s just all kinds of creepy,” Puck muttered at my side, giving the doll a look of alarm. “If you see any clowns, do me a favor and don’t point them out, okay? I’d rather live without the nightmares.”

I was about to snap at him for putting the thought of killer clown dolls in my head, when Ash touched my arm and nodded to something ahead of us.

In the center of the grotto, a bright, glowing pool threw hazy reflections over the walls and ceiling. But the pool itself was perfectly still, like the surface of a mirror, and you could see everything reflected in it. The walls full of clutter and the ceiling of the grotto plunged down like a hole in the pool’s surface. At the edge of the water, slumped in an ancient rocking chair like a pile of discarded rags—or a long desiccated corpse—was a familiar old woman.

For few seconds, the oracle was so very still that I thought she was dead, after all. Then her head slowly turned, and those empty, eyeless pits fastened on me.

“You have come.” She rose from the chair as if she were on strings and raised a withered hand, beckoning us forward. I squared my shoulders and marched toward her, Ash and Puck close behind me. The Briars seemed to hold their breath, the dolls and other toys watching intently, until we stood just a few feet from the ancient hag, the now-familiar stench of grave dust and old newspapers clogging the back of my throat.

For a second, nobody moved.

I cleared my throat. “All right,” I announced, meeting that eerie stare head-on. Or, hoping I did, anyway. It was difficult to glare at an eyeless face—you didn’t really know if it was looking at you or not. “I’m here, Oracle. We came as fast as we could. Now, what is this offer you were speaking of at Elysium? What do you know about my child?”

“Your child,” the oracle mused, almost dreamily. “Your son. Yes, I know much about him,” she continued, smiling at my shock. “Many futures have I glimpsed, and in all, he is a remarkable creature, born of Summer, Winter and Iron, an anomaly among all his kind. Human and fey, with the magic of all three courts flowing through his veins, he will possess a power none have ever seen.” She paused then, her forehead creasing like wrinkled paper. “And here is where his future becomes cloudy. Something is out there, Iron Queen, something dark, and it has the power to turn your son from you. I cannot see what it is, perhaps it is not even in the world yet, but he is balanced on a very fine edge, able to fall either way. And what comes after…” She shook her shriveled head. “I have seen death and destruction on a grand scale, many lives lost, the courts destroyed, and in the center of it all is your son.”

I was having trouble breathing. My legs felt shaky, and I locked my knees to keep myself upright. Beside me, even Puck looked stunned, his face pale beneath his red hair. Ash didn’t say anything, but he stepped close and placed a steady hand on the small of my back, just to reassure me he was still there. I leaned into him and drew strength from his touch.