“It’s just…” Rudy lowered his voice. “I’m not supposed to have direct access to the Nevernever,” he admitted. “You know how the courts are.
If they find out that a stinkin’ halfbreed owns a trod, they’ll turn me in-to a goat and feed me to the redcaps.”
“You owe me,” Grimalkin said bluntly. “I am collecting that debt now.
Either give us access to the trod, or I will turn Robin Goodfel ow loose in your store and then we will see how much of it is left to protect.”
“Goodfel ow?” Rudy’s face turned the color of old glue. He glanced at Puck, who grinned and waved cheerfully. “S-sure,” he whispered, moving away from the counter in a daze. “follow me.” He unlocked a door and led us into an even smaller, more crowded room. Here, the merchandise lining the walls and piled in corners was even stranger then the stock outside, but more familiar to me. Basilisk fangs and wyvern stingers. Glowing potions and toadstools of every color. A huge tome of puckered f lesh rested beneath a headdress made of griffin feathers. Rudy maneuvered through the clutter, kicking things out of the way, until he came to the back wall and pushed back a curtain. A simple wooden door stood on the other side.
“Open it,” Grimalkin ordered.
Sighing, Rudy unlocked the door and pushed it open. A cold breeze, smelling of earth and crushed leaves, f luttered into the small room, and the gray, murky expanse of the wyldwood came into view through the frame.
Puck blew out a long breath. “There she is.” He sighed, sounding wistful. “Never thought I’d be so happy to see her again.” 363/387
Grimalkin was already through the door, tail held straight up as he vanished into the mist. “Hey,” Rudy called, frowning through the doorway. “No more favors, okay, cat? We’re even now, right?” He sighed and eyed us as we started to follow. “I, uh, I’d appreciate it if this didn’t get out, your highnesses. Seeing as I helped you and al
…uh…” He trailed off as Puck gave him an appraising look in the door.
“That is, if it’s okay with you.”
“I don’t know.” Puck frowned and crossed his arms. “Didn’t you hear Oberon saying something about a certain pawnshop, ice-boy? And redcaps?
Or was that something else?”
Rudy looked faint, until Puck slapped him on the shoulder with a laugh, making him jump three feet in the air. “You’re a good guy.” He grinned, walking backward through the frame. “I might come back to visit someday. Hurry up, prince.”
“Prince?” The half satyr blinked as I stepped forward. “Robin Goodfel ow and a prince, come to my shop?” He stared hard at me, then his eyebrows shot up as something clicked into place. “Then…you must be…are you Prince Ash?”
The wyldwood breeze was cool against my face. I paused in the doorway and glanced over my shoulder, giving my head a small shake.
“No,” I told him, and walked through the door. “I’m not.” CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
THE IRON KNIGHT
The wyldwood was exactly as I remembered it—gray, dark, misty, with huge trees blocking out the sky—and yet, it was vastly different. I used 364/387
to be a part of this world, part of the magic and the energy that f lowed through all living creatures in the Nevernever. I wasn’t now. I was apart, separate. An intruder.
But now that I was back in the Nevernever, I could feel the glamour swirling within me, familiar and strange at the same time. Winter glamour, but different. As if…as if it wasn’t my magic anymore, but I could still reach it, still use it. Perhaps it was part of this soul I had gained, the part that Ariel a had given up, freely and without reservation. And, if that was true, then in some small way, she was still with me.
I found that thought very comforting.
“So.” Grimalkin appeared out of the mist, jumping onto a fall en log, his plumed tail waving behind him. “Here we are at last. I trust the two of you can manage the rest of the way without me?”
“Running off again, cat?” Puck crossed his arms, but his grin was an affectionate one. “And here I was just getting used to having you around.”
“I cannot look over your shoulder every step of the way, Goodfel ow,” Grimalkin replied in a bored tone. “It was a good adventure, but now it is done.
And, as difficult as it is to believe, I have things of my own to attend to.”
“Yeah, that nap must be terribly pressing. How do you survive?” Grimalkin ignored him this time, turning to me. “Farewell, knight,” he said formally, startling me with the term he’d never used before. “I wish you luck on your journey, for I fear it will not be easy. But you 365/387
have been through much, more then anyone could reasonably have hoped to survive. I suspect you will be all right in the end.” I bowed to the cat, who blinked but seemed pleased with the gesture.