Panicked, I looked up to see Ironhorse leading us into a mine shaft. We ducked under the roof just as the storm swept over us, catching a few more gremlins, who squealed and danced around in agony, holes burned through their skin. The rest of the gremlins jeered and laughed. I turned away before I was sick
Ash lay motionless on the ground, covered in dust and blood from where he’d been dragged. Steam curled off his body where the raindrops had hit. He groaned and tried to get up, but didn’t quite make it off his back. Snickering, a few gremlins started poking him, climbing onto his chest to slap his face. He flinched and turned away, but this only encouraged them further.
“Stop it!” I lunged and kicked a gremlin with all my might, launching it away from Ash like a football. The others turned on me, and I lashed out at them all, kicking and stomping. Hissing, they swarmed up my pant legs, pulling my hair and raking me with their claws. One sank its razor-sharp teeth into my shoulder, and I screamed.
“ENOUGH!” Ironhorse’s shout made the ceiling tremble. Dirt showered us, and the gremlins skittered back. Blood ran down my skin from a dozen tiny wounds, and my shoulder throbbed where the gremlin had bitten it. Ironhorse glared at me, swishing his tail against his flanks, then tossed his head at the knights.
“TAKE THEM INTO THE TUNNELS,” he ordered with a hint of exasperation. “MAKE SURE THEY DO NOT ESCAPE. IF THE STORM DOES NOT ABATE, WE MIGHT BE HERE AWHILE.”
The chains binding us to Ironhorse were released. Two knights pulled Ash to his feet and half dragged him away down a tunnel. The last knight, the one with Ash’s face, took me by the arm and led me after his brothers.
We paused at a junction where several tunnels merged. Wooden tracks led off into the darkness, and rickety cars half-filled with ore sat off to the sides. Thick wooden beams held up the ceiling, standing along the tracks every few feet. A few lanterns had been nailed into the wood, though most were broken and dark. In the flickering torchlight, glimmering veins of iron snaked across the walls.
We continued down a tunnel that dead-ended in a small room, where two wooden posts stood side by side in the middle of the room. A few crates and an abandoned pickax lay stacked in a corner. The knights pushed Ash against one post, unlocked a cuff, and reattached it behind the beam, securing him in place. The flesh under the metal band was red and burned, and he jerked when they snapped it around his wrist again. I bit my lip in sympathy.
The knight who’d first caught me straightened and patted Ash on the cheek, chuckling as Ash flinched away from the steel gauntlet. “Feels good, don’t it, worm?” he said, and I started in surprise. This was the first time I’d heard one of them speak. “You oldbloods are completely weak, aren’t you? It’s high time you moved over. You’re obsolete now, ancient. Your time is done.”
Ash raised his head and stared the other faery in the eye. “Bold words for someone who stood aside and wrestled a girl while his brothers fought for him.”
The knight backhanded him. I cried out in fury and started forward, but the knight behind me grabbed my arm. “Leave him alone, Quintus,” he said in a calm voice.
Quintus sneered. “Feeling sorry for him, Tertius? Maybe some brotherly affection for your twin here?”
“We’re not supposed to speak to the oldbloods,” Tertius replied in the same cool tone. “You know that. Or should I inform Ironhorse?”
Quintus spat on the ground. “You were always weak, Tertius,” he snarled. “Too softhearted to be made of iron. You’re a disgrace to the brotherhood.” He spun on a heel and marched up the tunnel, the last knight following behind. Their boots rang loudly on the stone floor, then faded into silence.
“Jerk,” I muttered as the remaining knight maneuvered me against the post. “Your name’s Tertius, right?”
He unlocked a shackle and wound the chain around the beam, not looking at me. “Yes.”
“Help us,” I pleaded. “You’re not like them, I can feel it. Please, I have to rescue my brother and get him out of here. I’ll make a deal with you, if that’s what it takes. Please, help us.”
For a moment, he met my eyes. I was struck again by how much he resembled Ash. His eyes were gunmetal-gray instead of silver, and the scar made him look older, but he had that same intense, honorable face. He paused, and for a moment, I dared to hope. But then he snapped the cuff around my wrist and stepped away, his eyes darkening to black.
“I’m a Knight of the Iron Crown,” he said, his voice as hard as steel. “I will not betray my brothers, or my king.”
He turned and walked away without looking back.
IN THE FLICKERING DARKNESS of the tunnel, I heard Ash’s raspy breathing, the shift of gravel as he sank into a sitting position. “Ash?” I called softly, my voice echoing down the shafts. “You all right?”