I DIDN’T SEE ASH all that evening, though I ignored Puck’s advice and looked for him. The ruins, bustling with activity at first, eventually died down into a somber quiet as scores of faery rebels prepared to march to battle. Armor was cleaned, blades were sharpened, and Glitch vanished behind closed doors with several of his advisers and hacker elves, probably to discuss strategy. Puck, forever curious and viewing all private meetings as a personal challenge, told me he would find out what was going on and disappeared. Restless, nervous, and annoyed that I couldn’t find Ash, I retreated to my room, where Grimalkin was curled in the middle of my bed and refused to scoot over so I could lie down.
“Grimalkin, move!” I snapped after trying and failing to ease him over. He rumbled a growl as I pushed at him, flexing his very sharp claws, and I quickly pulled my hand back. Golden eyes slitted open and glared at me.
“I am rather weary, human,” Grimalkin warned, flattening his ears in a rare but dangerous show of temper. “Considering I spent all night tracking down that gremlin, I would politely ask that you let me sleep before we go trekking down the same path we just came from. If you are looking for the Winter prince, he is up on the balcony with the insect things.” Grimalkin sniffed and closed his eyes. “Why not go pester him for a while?”
My heart leaped. “Ash? Ash is on the balcony?”
Grimalkin sighed. “Why do humans deem it necessary to repeat everything that is told them?” he mused, but I was already out the door.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
FERRUM’S PAST
The rebels shot me curious, annoyed looks as I jogged through the base, dodging hacker elves gathering up their computers, stammering apologies as I wove my way through the crowds. Reaching the stairs to the balcony, I took them two at a time but slowed when I came to the landing. Remembering what Puck said about intruders and hurled icicles, I peeked cautiously around the corner.
Ash stood on the edge of the landing, his back to me, the wind tugging at his hair and cloak. Overhead, dark red clouds blotted out the moon, and tiny flakes of gray danced on the breeze, dissolving to powder when they touched my skin. A fine coating of dust covered the balcony, muffling my footsteps as I eased through the arch. I knew Ash heard me from the tilt of his head, but he didn’t turn around.
“It’s unbelievable,” he whispered, his eyes gazing out over the landscape. In the distance, a thread of poisonous green lightning crawled under the belly of the clouds, and the air turned sharp and chemical. “To think this was once the Nevernever. To know that it could all turn into this…” He slowly shook his head. “It would be the end of us. Faery would be extinct forever. Everything I knew, places that have stood since the beginning of time, gone.”
“We won’t let that happen,” I said firmly, joining him at the edge. “The false king will be stopped, and this will go back to normal. I’m not going to let everything disappear.”
He didn’t say anything to that, continuing to gaze over the landscape. Silence fell, thick and uncomfortable. The wind whipped at my hair, howling across the distance between us. I could sense both of us wanting to speak, to break the awkwardness of unspoken apologies, until the quiet grew more than I could bear. “I’m sorry, Ash,” I murmured at last. “For what I said earlier. I didn’t mean it.”
He gave his head a small shake. “No. You shouldn’t apologize.” With a sigh, he raked a hand through his hair, still not looking at me. “I’m the one who taught you to fight, to take care of yourself. I have no right to be angry when you prove yourself capable of every lesson I gave you.”
“I had a pretty good teacher.”
He smiled, very faintly, though his eyes remained dark, his gaze on the clouds sweeping the horizon. “You’re not the same girl I met when you first came to the Nevernever, searching for your brother,” he said softly. “You’ve grown…changed. You’re stronger now, like she was.” He didn’t say her name, but I knew whom he meant. Ariella, the love he lost to a wyvern attack long before we ever met. “She was always the strong one,” Ash continued, his voice barely above a murmur. “Even the Winter Court couldn’t crush her spirit, turn her spiteful and cruel. She was better than all of us. But I couldn’t save her.” He closed his eyes, clenching his fists with the memory. “She died because I failed to protect her. I can’t…” His voice trembled, just a little, and he took a quiet breath. “I can’t watch that happen to you.”
“I’m not her,” I said, slipping my arm through his. “You’re not going to lose me, I promise.”
He shivered, glancing at me from the corner of his eyes. “Meghan,” he began, and I could sense his unease. “There’s something…I haven’t told you. I should have explained before but…I was afraid it would be a self-fulfilling prophecy if you knew.” He paused a moment, as if waiting for me to say something. When I didn’t, he took a deep breath. “Long ago,” he began, “someone told me that I would be cursed in love, that those I came to cherish would be torn from me, that as long as I remained soulless, I would lose everyone I truly cared for.”