“A door, a door, my kingdom for a door,” Puck muttered.
“There,” Ash said, pointing to a balcony several yards above us. “Come on. We’ll have to climb.”
Scaling the walls wasn’t difficult, though it was extremely nerve-racking with all the lighting and the shrieks of dying gremlins. But we reached the balcony in a short amount of time. A small iron door stood nestled in an alcove next to the railing, and I started toward it, eager to get out of the lightning storm. But before I was halfway across the balcony, the entire fortress trembled, like a dog shaking off water, and lurched into motion. I stumbled forward, slamming my shoulder into the door. It wouldn’t budge, no matter how hard I wrenched the handle or threw myself against it.
“Dammit!” Puck yelped, ducking as a deadly bolt of electricity slashed down nearby, making my skin crawl. “We’re gonna have to find another way in, unless someone happens to have a key!”
The key! Reaching up, I yanked the chain from my neck and shoved the iron key into the hole beneath the handle, praying it would work. I heard a soft click, and slammed myself into the door once again, just as the fortress lurched forward. This time, the door flew inward, and I tumbled over the threshold, Puck and Ash close behind me. Then it slammed shut with a clang, trapping us inside the fortress of the false king.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
THE FALSE KING
Panting, I looked around us, grabbing a pipe to keep steady as the fortress shook and bounced and trembled, trying to buck the intruders off its back. The inside of the false king’s fortress looked much like the outside, thrown together with no thought to architectural soundness, or anything that made sense, really. Stairways ran into walls, doors hung from the ceiling, and hallways snaked off to nowhere or curled around themselves. Rooms and floors sat at weird angles, making it difficult to keep your balance, and were filled with strange odds and ends. A tricycle rolled by, banging into a staircase, and a lamp, hanging upside down from the ceiling, flickered erratically.
“Great. The false king’s fortress is a giant rabbit hole.” Puck ducked as a model plane flew by on a string, barely missing him. “How are we supposed to find anything in this mess?”
I closed my eyes, feeling the dark, Iron glamour pulsing all around me. In Machina’s tower, I’d known I would find the Iron King at the very top, close to the sky and the wind, waiting for me. Here, in this crowded, tangled burrow, I could feel him, too. The false king. He knew I was here, an intruder in his private warren. I could feel his glee, his anticipation, as the fortress itself suddenly turned its gaze inward, searching for us. For me.
I shivered and opened my eyes. “He’s at the very center,” I murmured, looping the chain, the watch, and the lifesaving key around my neck once more. “The heart of the fortress. And he’s waiting for us.”
“Then let’s not keep him,” Ash muttered, drawing his sword, which glowed like a beacon in the darkness. Huddled close, we crept forward, into the shadowed, tangled mess of the false king’s fortress.
We eased our way between mountains of junk, through rooms that made no sense, dodging trash and low-hanging cables. One time we followed a corridor that led us in a twisted spiral back to where we came. Another time we picked our way through a labyrinth of huge pipes, hissing steam. All the while, the dark glamour I felt grew stronger, more eager, the closer we came to the center.
And then, very suddenly, the close, crowded walls opened up, and we stumbled into a vast open arena. Thick black pipes held up the ceiling, hissing madly, and metal poles stuck out of the roof, threads of lightning arcing between them, causing the whole place to flicker like a strobe light.
In the center of the open space, an iron chair spiked up from the floor, polished and gleaming. Seated motionless on the throne, a body watched us, but under the flickering lights, it was difficult to see it clearly. Then a strand of lightning leaped from the ceiling and slithered rapidly over the throne, lighting it up like a Christmas tree, and I saw the face of the false king for the first time.
“You!” I gasped. My heart lurched, and my stomach dropped to my toes. Of course, it was him. How could I not have seen it before?
“Hello, Meghan Chase,” purred Ferrum, smiling at me. “I have been waiting for you.”