“Couldn’t have done it without you, Grim,” I said quietly, and he sniffed.
“Of course not,” he replied, as if it were obvious. “Give the Iron Queen my regards, but tell her not to call on me too soon. I find pulling you both out of sticky situations increasingly tiresome.” Something rustled in the bushes a few yards away, drawing my attention for a split second. When I glanced back at the log, Grimalkin was gone.
Puck sighed. “Cat sure knows how to make an exit,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Well, come on, ice-boy. Let’s get you to the Iron Realm. You’re not getting any younger.” The journey took us two days, mostly due to the goblin border skir-mish we ran into in the Gnashwood. Because, as nothing ever came easily in the wyldwood, the goblin tribes were at war again and were even more intolerant of trespassers through their territory. Puck and I had to f lee from several angry war parties, eventually fighting our way through the lines to reach the outskirts of goblin lands. For a while, it was like old times again, the two of us, fighting side by side against much greater odds. My body felt like my own again, my sword f luid and natural in my hands. A poisoned goblin arrow hit me once in the thigh, and I spent an evening in pain trying to stave off the effects, but I was able to shake it off by morning and continue.
But despite the thril of battle and the excitement of simply being alive, I was anxious to get to the Iron Realm. I could feel the seconds ticking away, like grains falling through the hourglass, each day that brought 366/387
me closer to my inevitable end. Whether it was an ordinary mortal life span, or if I was still faery enough to slow the advance of time, I wanted to spend the days I had left with Meghan. With my family.
The last night before we reached the border of the Iron Realm, Puck and I camped on the edge of a small lake, having finally escaped the Gnashwood and the territory of angry, bloodthirsty goblins. We were so close—I could feel it, and it was difficult for me to relax, much to Puck’s amusement. I finally dozed, leaning back against a tree, facing the water.
Sometime during the night, I dreamed. Ariel a stood on the banks of the water smiling at me, her silver hair glowing in the starlight. She didn’t speak, and I didn’t say anything, having no voice in this dream, but I think she wanted me to know that she was happy. That her quest was fulfilled, and that I could finally let her go. I could put her memory to rest at last. I woke with blurry eyes and an ache in my chest, but for the first time since that fateful day, I felt lighter. I would never forget her, but I no longer felt guilty that I had moved on, that I could be happy with someone else. I finally knew that’s what she would want.
At last, forty-eight human hours after we’d entered the wyldwood, Puck and I stood at the edge of the Iron Realm, gazing at the metal trees stretching to either side as far as one could see. It seemed the Nevernever itself had done its best to separate from the Iron Kingdom, for a great chasm ran between the wyldwood and the Iron Queen’s territory, the earth having fall en away. A wooden bridge had been hastily constructed to span the gulf, but the wyldwood was slowly attempting to destroy that as well, for vines and weeds were already wrapped about the planks, as if trying to drag it down.
Puck and I stopped at the edge of the bridge. “Well, here we are.” The Summer jester sighed, scrubbing the back of his head while eyeing the 367/387
forest. “Home sweet home for you, iceboy, strange as it is to think about that. Sure you can make it to Mag Tuiredh on your own? I really don’t know where it’s located from here.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said, gazing into the glimmering forest of steel.
Not long ago, the sight of it had made my stomach recoil. Now it churned with excitement. “I’ll find it.”
“Yeah, I’ve no doubt you will.” Puck sighed, crossing his arms. “Anyway, you probably won’t see me for a while, iceboy. The thought of returning to Summer just isn’t as appealing as it once was. Maybe it’s time for a road trip.” He f lung out his arms dramatically. “The wind in my face, the open road stretching out before me, excitement and adventure just around the next bend.”
“Huh.” I eyed him shrewdly. “Oberon didn’t give you permission to go tromping through the Deep Wyld with me, did he?”
“Not so much.” Puck grimaced. “Anyway, I think it’s time for a vacation, let Lord Pointy Ears cool down for a bit. Give Meghan a hug for me, will ya? Maybe I’ll see you both in a few decades.”
“Where are you going?”