Chimes at Midnight

That just meant I needed to get out of here. Keeping my feet within the narrow bounds of the marble path, I started for the door.

“This is stupid,” I muttered. “This isn’t even good stupid. This is Bond villain stupid. This is Willy Wonka stupid. Who keeps a pit full of their personal Kryptonite in their own damn house? It’s stupid. If we weren’t already deposing her, I’d be tempted, just because this is so stupid.”

Muttering helped. It was easier to stay angry when I muttered, and staying angry helped keep me from focusing on the pain that was threatening to consume my entire body. My lungs hurt, too, aching from the iron I was pulling in with every single breath.

The door wasn’t locked. I suppose there was no good reason it should have been. Anyone who’d been in this place for more than an hour wouldn’t have had the strength to get up and open it.

The chamber on the other side was small, and like the room before it, was completely encased in iron. The marble path extended into the chamber, stopping and widening slightly at the center, into a circle almost large enough to let a human-sized bipedal adult sit down comfortably. Danny would have been forced to stand or burn if he’d been thrown in here.

Ironically, Nolan’s elf-shot condition had put him into a better state than most. He was still asleep, and was stretched out on the path, with his head on the marble at the center of the circle. “Let’s go,” I muttered, grabbing his ankles. He could have died from iron poisoning. He still might, if he didn’t get care. But by not depositing him directly on the iron, the Queen’s men retained enough deniability that neither they, nor their mistress, could be charged with a breach of the Law.

It was conniving and spiteful, and I was going to have one hell of a time not hitting someone when I finally managed to get Nolan up the stairs.

My head was spinning from the iron, and dragging him along the marble path was a slow, difficult process, made harder by the fact that I was starting to have trouble breathing. I let go of him as soon as we were back in the main room, putting my hands against my knees and bending double as I struggled against the dizziness and gray blurriness threatening to overwhelm me. Everything was turning fuzzy, and my head was still throbbing. My feet had gone numb. That was probably a blessing in disguise.

“Think, October.” What did I have? I had a silver knife. I had a leather jacket. I had the remaining blood lozenges. I had—

Blood lozenges. The blood in my veins was thick with iron, but Walther had frozen some of it before I was exposed. The blood gems might be tainted with goblin fruit. That was okay. I had the hope chest now; I could fix it. I withdrew the baggie from my pocket, undoing the seal. I couldn’t seem to make my shaking fingers close on a single gem. Finally, I shook my head, muttered, “Fuck it,” and dumped the remaining contents of the baggie into my mouth.

As before, the blood gems dissolved when they hit my tongue, leaving behind the taste of mint and lavender. That was the only thing that was like before, because then, I’d been trying to keep myself standing. I’d been mostly human. Now, I was more fae than I’d ever been, and I was looking for strength. The blood, dilute as it was, was happy to give it to me.

Feeling flooded back into my feet and hands as the bruises from my impact with the floor healed. Unfortunately, since no amount of blood could make me immune to iron, the feeling consisted mostly of pain. I didn’t have time to worry about that. I could feel the blood flowing through me, strengthening me. I could also feel how little time I had. More of my strength than I’d realized was going toward keeping me upright against the onslaught of iron.