Iron's Prophecy (The Iron Fey #4.5)(8)
She waved her hand, and lights sprang up again, candles and chandeliers flaring to life. The faeries in the room blinked and cringed and glanced around, wary of attackers and one another.
They didn’t immediately notice the old woman standing in the middle of the room, where nothing had been before. But I spotted her almost at once, and my stomach went cold with dread.
The oracle, ragged, dusty and as brittle as old newspaper, turned the hollow pits of her eyes on me and didn’t look away. I heard Titania’s sharp gasp, just as the other fey discovered the ancient creature standing in their midst and surged away from her like she had a disease. But the oracle’s sightless gaze never wavered, and she seemed to float over the ground like a dusty wraith, until she stood a few yards from me.
“Oracle,” Mab stated in a flat voice. “Why are you here? What is the meaning of this disturbance?”
The oracle ignored the Winter monarch, however, drifting closer to me. “Meghan Chase,” she whispered, and the stench of centuries-old dust filled the air, the smell of a grave or a tomb. “Iron Queen. Do you remember me?”
“What do you want, Oracle?” I stood tall, keeping my voice calm.
“Old Anna brings a warning,” the oracle whispered. “One that has been ignored before. Do you remember what I told you, Meghan Chase? You and your Winter prince. Do you recall what I said would happen?”
A murmur went around the room, and Mab’s glare sharpened; I could feel it searing into the back of my head. Goose bumps prickled over my skin, but I kept my voice firm. “No,” I said, taking a step forward. “You told us a lot of things, and I gave you what I could. I did what I had to do, to save my family. That’s all that was important.”
“You remember,” the oracle insisted. “Do you not? The one thing you refused to give up. That which would cause you nothing but grief. Do you remember now, Meghan Chase?”
For second, I didn’t know what she was talking about.
Then it hit me, and were it not for the hundreds of fey watching, including the rulers of the other courts, I would have fallen as my knees gave out. I remembered her words, so long ago, when I had first come to Faery. I had traded away a memory for her help, but that wasn’t the only thing the oracle had wanted.
“You will not give it up, even though it will bring you nothing but grief?”
“Oh, God,” I whispered, and my hand slipped to my stomach. The nausea, the sudden weakness and fainting spells. It couldn’t be.
“Yes,” the oracle whispered, and raised a withered hand, pointing at me. “You know of what I speak. And you have a decision to make, Iron Queen. What you carry will either unite the courts, or it will destroy them. I have seen it. I know one of these will come to pass.”
“No,” I said in a shaky voice. No one in the room seemed to hear us now. It was as if we were in our own small world, the oracle and myself, and everything around us had faded into obscurity.
The withered hag watched me with the pitiless holes in her face. “You know I speak the truth, Meghan Chase,” the oracle went on. “You know the great power resting inside you. Power that can destroy, turn everything we know into dust. But all is not lost.” She raised a shriveled claw. “I have a proposition for you. We must speak further, but not here. Not like this.” She drew back, the hollow pits of her eyes never leaving my face. “Time is of the essence. Find me. You have friends who will show you the way. I will be awaiting you, and your decision.”
A sudden wind rushed through the ballroom, resnuffing candles and causing a few chandeliers to crash to the ground in a ringing cacophony. Fey jumped and howled, and by the time Mab restored order and reignited the lights again, the oracle was gone.
CHAPTER THREE
“Explain yourself, Iron Queen!”
Shivering, I turned to face the Unseelie monarch, on her feet and glaring at me over the table. Mab’s eyes glittered with distrust, and Oberon didn’t look very reassuring, either. Titania, of course, was staring at me like she was hoping my head would explode.
But they were the least of my worries, now. The oracle’s words rang through my head, over and over again, staggering me with the implications.
You know the great power resting inside you.
What you carry will either unite the courts, or it will destroy them.
You have a decision to make, Iron Queen. Find me.
“I have to go.”
That wasn’t well received. Mab straightened, every inch of her bristling with offense. “You dare, Iron Queen?” she asked in her scary soft voice. “You dare insult me in my own court? In front of my own people?” Her black eyes narrowed, and she leaned across the table, coating the glasses with frost. “You will tell me what is happening, or you will prepare for the wrath of Winter.”
I stared her down. “No, Queen Mab. You will not threaten me or my kingdom for this.” Mab didn’t move, but I could sense her shock; the daughter of Oberon was no longer a cowering little girl. I gestured to the room behind us. “You heard what the oracle said—this affects all the courts, not just my own. I will not adhere to some ridiculous, outdated protocol when my realm could be in danger.”
“The girl is right, Lady Mab,” Oberon said, finally coming to my defense. Better late than never, I supposed. “A Summons from the oracle cannot be ignored. If she knows something that threatens the stability of the courts, we must be prepared.”