Memory trickled in, seeking to slip beneath my defenses, the icy wall I showed the world. I had once thought my armor invincible, that nothing could touch me…until Meghan Chase had entered my life and turned it upside down. Reckless, loyal, possessing the unyielding stubbornness of a granite cliff, she’d smashed through all the barriers I’d erected to keep her out, refusing to give up on me, until I finally had to admit defeat. It was official.
I was in love. With a human.
I smiled bitterly at the thought. The old Ash, if faced with such a suggestion, would’ve either laughed scornfully or removed the offender’s head from his neck. I’d known love before, and it had brought me so much pain that I had retreated behind an impenetrable wall of indifference, freezing out everything, everyone. So it had been shocking and unexpected and a little terrifying to discover I could still feel anything, and I’d been reluctant to accept it. If I dropped my guard, I was vulnerable, and such weakness was deadly in the Unseelie Court. But more important, I hadn’t wanted to go through the same hurt a second time, lowering my defenses only to have my heart torn away once more.
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Deep down, I’d known the odds were stacked against us. I knew a Winter prince and the halfhuman daughter of the Summer King didn’t have much of a chance to be together in the end. But I had been willing to try. I’d given it my all, and I didn’t regret any of it, even when Meghan had severed our bond and exiled me from the Iron Realm.
I’d expected to die that day. I had been ready. Being ordered by my True Name to walk away, leaving Meghan to die alone in the Iron Kingdom, had nearly shattered me a second time. If it hadn’t been for my oath to be with her again, I might’ve done something suicidal, like challenge Oberon to battle before the entire Summer Court. But now that I’ve made my promise, there is no turning back. Abandoning my vow will unravel me, bit by bit, until there is nothing left. Even if I wasn’t determined to find a way to survive in the Iron Realm, I’d have no choice but to continue.
I will be with her again, or I will die. There aren’t any other options.
“Hey, ice-boy, you okay? You’ve got your brooding face on again.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re so full of crap.” Puck lounged in the cradle of a tree, hands behind his head, one foot dangling in the air. “Lighten up already. We finally found the cat—which we should get a freaking medal for, the search for the Golden Fleece wasn’t this hard—and you look like you’re going to engage Mab in single combat first thing in the morning.”
“I’m thinking. You should try it sometime.”
“Ooh, witty.” Puck snorted, pulled an apple out of his pocket, and bit into it. “Suit yourself, ice-boy. But you really should try to smile sometimes, or your face will freeze like that forever. Or so I’ve been told.” He 19/387
grinned and crunched his apple. “So, whose turn is it for first watch, yours or mine?”
“Yours.”
“Really? I thought it was your turn. Didn’t I take first watch at the edge of the Bone Marsh?”
“Yes.” I glared at him. “And it was interrupted when you followed that nymph away from the camp, and that goblin tried to steal my sword.”
“Oh, yeah.” Puck snickered, though I didn’t think it was very amusing.
This sword was made for me by the Ice Archons of Dragons’ Peak; my blood, glamour and a tiny piece of my essence had gone into its cre-ation, and no one touches it but me.
“In my defense,” Puck said, still grinning faintly, “she did try to rob me as well. I’ve never heard of a nymph being in league with a goblin. Too bad for them that you’re a light sleeper, huh, ice-boy?” I rolled my eyes, tuned out his incessant chattering, and let myself drift.
I almost never dream. Dreams are for mortals, humans whose emotions are so strong, so consuming, they spil over into their subconscious minds. The fey do not usually dream; our sleep is untroubled by thoughts of the past or future, or anything except the now. While humans can be tormented by feelings of guilt, longing, worry and regret, most fey do not experience these things. We are, in many ways, emptier than mortals, lacking the deeper emotions that make them so…human. Perhaps that is why they are so fascinating to us.
In the past, the only time I had dreamed was right after Ariel a’s death, horrific, gut-wrenching nightmares about that day I let her die, the day 20/387
I couldn’t save her. It was always the same: I, Puck and Ariel a chasing the golden fox, the shadows closing around us, the monstrous wyvern rearing up out of nowhere. Each time, I knew Ariel a would be hit.
Each time, I tried to get to her before the wyvern’s deadly stinger found its mark. I failed every single time, and she would look at me with those clear blue eyes and whisper my name, right before she went limp in my arms and I jerked myself awake.
I learned to freeze out my emotions then, to destroy everything that made me weak, to become as cold inside as I was outside. The nightmares stopped, and I never dreamed again.
Until now.