The Iron Queen raised her sword, the sickly light gleaming down the edges of the steel blade as Iron glamour f lared around her, a mael-strom of deadly power. I saw her lips move, a name on them, perhaps mine, and felt nothing. My glamour rose up to meet hers, cold and dangerous, and our powers slammed into each other with the roar of dueling dragons.
Flashes of images, like broken mirror shards, falling to the earth. Iron and ice, clashing against each other. Rage and hate, swirling in vicious, ugly colors around us. Glamour and pain and blood.
Myself, deliberately failing to stop the blow that would kill me. The point of a saber, piercing my chest…
I blinked, and the world slowed. I lay on my back, a dull throbbing in the vicinity of my heart, cold and numb and unable to make my body move.
Above me, the Iron Queen’s face filled my vision, beautiful and strong, though her face was streaked with tears. She knelt, smoothing the hair from my forehead, her fingers trailing a line of heat across my skin.
I blinked again, and for just a moment, I was the one kneeling in the dirt, clutching the Iron Queen’s body to my chest, screaming into the wind.
Her fingers lingered on my cheek, and I gazed up at her, my vision starting to go fuzzy and dark. A tear splashed against my skin and in that instant, the old me regretted everything; everything that had brought us here, everything I had done. I tried to speak, to beg 160/387
forgiveness, to tell her not to remember me like this, but my voice failed me and I couldn’t force the words out.
From the corner of my eye, I sensed another presence, watching us from the shadows. It seemed terribly invasive, until I realized it didn’t belong here, that it was somehow separate from this reality.
Meghan bent down, and though I couldn’t hear her, I saw her lips murmur, “Goodbye, Ash.” Then those lips touched my forehead and the darkness f looded in.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE FERRY
“Prince.”
I groaned.
“Prince.” Something patted my chin. “Wake up.” Shifting on the mattress, I struggled to open my eyes. There was a solid weight sitting on my chest, but exhaustion was making my lids heavy and awkward. I was tired; I wanted to sink back into oblivion, despite the disturbing dreams that waited for me.
“Hmm. For such a well-trained, somewhat paranoid warrior, you are certainly difficult to rouse. Very well.” The weight on my chest slid off, much to my relief, and I heard a thump as it dropped to the f loor and walked away. “We shal have to resort to more drastic measures.” Just as I was wondering what “drastic measures” were, a patter of footsteps scampered toward the bed. There was a brief pause…and then that solid, heavy weight landed square on my stomach.
“Oof!” I bolted upright with a gasp, the breath driven from my lungs in a painful, vicious expulsion. Instantly awake, I clutched my ribs and glared at Grimalkin, sitting on the bed with a smug, pleased expression on his face.
“All right,” I gritted out, breathing slowly to dispel the nausea, “you have my attention. What do you want, cat?” 162/387
“Ah,” he purred, as if nothing had happened. “There you are. I was beginning to think you had died in your sleep.” He stood, waving his tail.
“We have trouble. The boat is here, and I cannot wake anyone up.”
“Boat?”
The cat rolled his eyes. “Yes. Boat. The ferry that you are so eager to take to the End of the World? Did you accidentally hit your head before I woke you?” He peered at me, suddenly serious. “There is something strange going on, prince,” he muttered. “I cannot wake any of the others, and it is not like you to forget something this important.
How do you feel?”
I thought the strangest occurrence was Grimalkin asking about my health, but after a moment I frowned. “Tired,” I admitted. “Almost drained.”
Grimalkin nodded. “I thought as much. Something about this place is siphoning your strength, you glamour, even your memories.” He blinked and shook himself. “Even I am finding it hard to keep my eyes open. Come.” Turning suddenly, he leaped off the bed. “We must wake the others. If we do not make it to the ferry in time, it will leave, and you will be stuck here forever.”
I stood, frowning as the room spun around me. Rubbing my eyes, I started to follow Grimalkin, but a faint noise outside the window made me pause.
Bracing myself against the wall, I looked through the glass and drew in a slow breath.
The inn was surrounded by Forgotten. hollow-eyed, faded and fam-ished looking, they crowded the muddy road, shoulder to shoulder, staring up at me with slack, open mouths. How long had they stood 163/387
there, sucking away our glamour, our memories? How long before we became like them, empty and hollow, black holes drawing in every little bit of life?
I stumbled back from the window and into the hall, where Grimalkin waited for me, lashing his tail.
“Hurry,” he hissed, and trotted into the next room. I shook the cobwebs out of my head and followed.