Page 13 of The Kingdom Cursed By Iron

He falls silent and I wonder if we’re both remembering the moment when I said those fateful words and Cebba’s dark spell lifted. The memory is like a hot coal at my core. I don’t want to get too close or touch it, knowing how much it will burn.

“Your power isn’t enough?” I prompt.

“To cure her, no. It’s strong enough now to learn more about her condition, but the iron damage runs deep, and I can’t do anything against it. No fae can. But you? You saved Destan when iron littered his body.”

I shake my head, even though I’m already drawn into the problem he’s presenting, studying the angles of it. “That was different. They were fresh wounds, and none of them penetrated all that deeply. It wasn’t like I magicked the iron away, I just removed the foreign objects with science. This isn’t a case of just taking pieces of iron out—not after two hundred years—even if I were a surgeon.”

“But perhaps you could do it with magic now.”

I start to see the shape of his plan and how much it expects of me.

“I can manipulate gold, Ruskin. That’s it. I can’t help you or your mother.” I try to ignore my nagging memory of being able to read the captain’s sword just an hour ago, not to mention the way I altered the manganese in Cebba’s chains. Ruskin looks at me like he knows exactly what I’m thinking.

“You’ve only manipulated gold so far, but fae magic often starts like that: working first on just one thing, but then another, and another, until their power takes full shape.”

“Except I’m not fae,” I say coldly. “Why do I again feel like there’s something you’re not telling me?”

“When it comes to your magic, I know very little for certain, Eleanor. I only suspect you can do more. And wouldn’t you like to find out if that’s true?”

His voice is soft as velvet, and it’s clear he hopes I’ll be too intrigued to resist the offer. He’s using my weaknesses against me. But some knowledge isn’t worth the pain.

“Whatever I can do, Ruskin, I can work it out myself.”

I’m admittedly a little curious as to what ploy he’ll try next, but I’m not ready for it when he strides towards me, his Unseelie features retreating, his sweet scent filling my nostrils.

“Then do it simply knowing that you’ll be giving someone their mother back,” he says, looking down at me with a deep, genuine sadness. We haven’t been this close since the night I left him. My treacherous heart speeds up.

“I don’t see how she will ever wake up if you don’t help me,” he says. “Two hundred years I’ve waited to get her back, and now…” He allows himself an unhappy smile. “I find that once again all my hopes rest on you, Gold Weaver, Iron Tamer. I will beg, Eleanor, if you want it.”

But I don’t want it. I have no desire to see Ruskin on his knees just because I’m withholding something that I myself would fight desperately for: a chance to revive my mother, to talk to her again, to feel her warm arms around me. Maybe she could tell me what to do right now, as his words tug at my bruised heart.

But then, I know what she’d say, don’t I? If there’s any chance that I’ll be able to help someone, save someone, then I can’t say no.

“I can try,” I say. “But I have some conditions.”

Triumph briefly shows on his face, then disappears. He must know that any sign he’s gloating risks changing my mind.

“Name your terms.”

“Protection,” I say.

He goes still.

“Eleanor, I would not let any harm come to you in Faerie.”

His eyes drop to my left hand, where my ring finger ends abruptly in a stump. I feel his power pulsate around me, agitated, like an animal champing to be let loose.

“Not again,” he adds.

“I didn’t mean in Faerie,” I correct him. “And I’m not just talking about me. You’ve seen that Dad and I aren’t safe. Albrecht is hunting me. I know you can take memories from people, which means you can solve my problem.”

“What are you proposing?” He crosses his arms.

“Take the king’s memories of me. Make him forget that he ever heard of a woman named Eleanor Thorn who can make gold.”

“I don’t enchant humans I’ve not made deals with,” Ruskin says.

“You’re making a deal with me,” I stress.

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