“FERRUM,” I WHISPERED, trying to match the figure of the false king with the sad, angry old man I’d met in the packrat tunnels. He was very much the same, withered and bent over, his arms and legs like brittle twigs and his white hair flowing almost to his feet. Voluminous black robes nearly swallowed his frail figure, and a twisted iron crown rested on his forehead, seeming to weigh him down. His skin had that same metallic tone, like he’d been dunked in liquid mercury, and the lightning crawling over his body didn’t seem to faze him a bit.
But he glowed with power now, a dark, purplish aura that surrounded him, like it was sucking in all the light. I could feel it pulling at me, trying to drain my life and glamour, suck me dry until I was an empty husk. I shuddered and stepped back, and Ferrum broke into a maniacal grin.
“Yes, you feel it, don’t you, girl?” Ferrum raised a claw and beckoned me forward, still smiling. “You feel the void, the vacuum, where my power used to lie. The power of the Iron King. The power you stole from me when you killed Machina!” Ferrum slammed his fist into the chair with a hollow boom, making me jump. I didn’t remember him being this strong.
“But now, you are here,” he finished, still gazing at me with those crazy, inhuman eyes. “And I will take back what is rightfully mine. For centuries have I waited for this day, when I can reclaim my throne and my right as king!” He leaned forward, speaking fervently, as if to convince us. “It will be different this time. Machina was right to fear the oldbloods. They will destroy us if we do not put them down first. When I kill you and my power is returned, I will take this land and remake it in my own image, where my subjects and slaves can live in peace, and I can rule as I did before, unopposed and unquestioned.”
“You’re wrong,” I said quietly, as his eyes widened, blazing and feverish. “The power of the Iron King was never yours, not since you lost it to Machina all those years ago. It can be earned, and it can be lost, but it can never be taken. Machina gave it to me. Even if you kill me, you won’t get back your power. You can’t reclaim the past, Ferrum. Let it go. You’ll never be the Iron King again.”
“Silence!” Ferrum screeched, hitting the throne arm again. “Lies! I have waited for this day too long to listen to your filthy half-truths! Guards, guards!”
Clanking footsteps boomed around us, and a platoon of Iron knights appeared, encircling the arena. Ash and Puck pressed close, and we stood back-to-back, weapons drawn, as the knights came to a stop at the edge, surrounding us in a ring of steel.
Ferrum rose from his throne, floating a few feet from the ground like a spindly wraith, his long hair floating around him. “You will not deny me what is rightfully mine,” the false king raged, pointing at me with a long metallic finger. “And your little bodyguards will not stop me from taking it, either. I have some friends of theirs who are dying to see them.”
I wasn’t surprised when the ranks parted and Rowan stepped out on one side, Tertius on the other. The Iron knight looked bored and cold, but Rowan’s grin was inhumanly eager as he drew his sword, spinning it casually as he advanced on Ash.
“Come on, little brother,” Rowan sneered, the flickering light washing over his burned, ravaged face. “I’ve been waiting for this a long time.”
“Meghan.” Ash eased back a step, torn between protecting me and going after Rowan. I softly touched his arm.
“It’s okay.” He gave me a desperate, helpless look, and I smiled encouragingly. “I’ll be all right. This is what we came here for. Keep Rowan off me, and I’ll take care of Ferrum.” I hope. “Puck, will you be all right?”
“No problem, princess.” Puck whirled his daggers, facing off against Ash’s doppelganger. The look on his face scared me a little. It was one of pure, savage zeal as Puck bared his teeth in a fearsome smile. “I think I’m gonna enjoy this.”
Ash held my gaze. “I can’t protect you this time,” he whispered. “And I know you’re ready for this but, Meghan…be careful,” he finished, and I nodded.
“You, too.” I stepped back, but he pulled me forward and kissed me, quick and desperate, before turning to face Rowan.
“Go on, then,” he said softly, his voice shaking a bit. “Go save us all.”
With my head up and my resolve firmly in place, I turned and walked toward the center of the room. This was it. Ash and Puck couldn’t help me now. I had to do this on my own.
Ferrum waited for me before his throne, a skeletal wraith-creature, his robes and hair billowing behind him. The screech and clash of weapons echoed behind me as two of the people I loved most in the world fought for their lives, but I didn’t turn back to look. My gaze was only for the false king as I stopped a few yards from the throne, my sword held loosely at my side.
Ferrum watched me for a moment, hanging in the air like a vulture, and he broke into a slow, eager smile. “This can be simple and painless, you know,” he whispered. “Kneel before me now, and you will not suffer. Your end will be as peaceful as a lullaby, singing you to sleep.”