Page 19 of The Iron Raven

“Puck.” Keirran’s tone was quietly horrified, his expression pained. “Listen to yourself. Whatever that thing did, whatever it brought out, this isn’t you, and you know it.”

“Not me?” I sneered at him as, deep inside, the ugliness spread. “I’ve always known who I am, princeling. I’m the guy no one takes seriously. The guy everyone laughs at, who has a joke for everything, because the world is screwed up and the only way to deal with it is to look it in the eyes and smile. I smile, because it’s either that or get vindictive. And no one likes me when I’m vindictive.” I sneered at him again, challenging and defiant. “So, there you go, prince. The hidden side of Robin Goodfellow. How do you know this isn’t who I’ve been all along?”

The Forgotten King narrowed his eyes, and glamour swirled around him as he raised an arm. “Then take a look at yourself now, Puck, and tell me if this is who you want to be.”

My breath curled in front of my face as the air around us turned frigid. Sparkling motes danced in the moonlight, drawing together with crinkling sounds as something large and rectangular began forming in ice. When it stopped, a full-length mirror sat on the frozen ground, mist writhing off the crystallized surface to coil into the air. Keirran looked at me and took a step back, gesturing to the frozen creation. Nyx followed suit but kept her blades out and her gaze trained on me, ready to defend her king if needed.

“Oh fine.” I crossed my arms. “I know I’m handsome and all, you don’t have to prove it to me. But if you think I’m going to see something I don’t like—”

My stomach dropped, the rest of that sentence hanging in the air as I stared in the mirror. The figure in the reflection still looked like me: worn hoodie, green eyes, red hair that stuck out like I’d been struck by lightning. All very familiar.

Except...I hadn’t had horns this morning.

I blinked, looking again to make sure it wasn’t a trick of the moonlight or the mirror itself. Nope, I definitely had a couple protuberances that I hadn’t had earlier. Small goat horns poked out of my hair, right above my forehead. I raised my arm and prodded them, feeling the short, rough edges against my skin. Further proof that they weren’t an illusion.

And if I had horns...

I grabbed the sides of my pants and yanked them up, revealing the shiny cloven hooves where my feet should’ve been. Shaggy brown fur clung to my ankles, and I could suddenly feel the hair rubbing the inside of my pants, all the way up to my waist.

Okay, that’s...not good.

My insides felt sour as that dark, spiteful part of me shriveled up and died. This was bad. This was definitely bad. When had this happened? When the monster thing stabbed me? Or had it infected me so much with its ugly, hateful glamour that I’d turned intothis?

“Well...shit.” I straightened and glanced at Keirran, who gave me a grim, understanding look and motioned Nyx to sheathe her weapons. She did so reluctantly but seemed a bit less hostile now.

“I take it this form is not normal for you,” she ventured.

“Do I look like I enjoy prancing around in fuzzy pants?” I curled a lip at her. “Not that I’d recommend it, but you look upRobin GoodfelloworPuckon any computer, and chances are you’ll stumble across this ugly mug. Or versions of him.” I raised both arms in a shrug. “This is what the humans thought I looked like, a few centuries ago, anyway.”

“An evil satyr?”

“Not a satyr.” I held up a finger. “Satyrs are Greek. And they have no impulse control. I might be obnoxious, but I don’t go around at permanent full mast, if you know what I mean. And if you insult me by calling me a faun, I’ll spit in your drink. I’m Puck, and there’s only one of me, as far as I know.”

“Thank goodness for that,” Keirran muttered.

I gave him a very evil smile. “Oh, trust me, princeling. You and the entire Nevernever should be thankful there’s only one.”

Nyx shook her head. “Yes, butwhydid you change into...that?” she wondered. “We know that creature had something to do with it, but for what purpose? Why did it choose this form?”

“Got me.” I shrugged. “Maybe to piss me off? To spread the rage around a bit? I can tell you now, that thing had plenty to spare.”

“It did not choose that form,” came a new voice. With a ripple of moonlight, a furry gray cat appeared on a nearby stone. Grimalkin gave my new form a lazy sniff and curled his whiskers. “The creature was far too enraged, beyond logical thought, to make any intelligent decisions. As I saw it, you reverted to that yourself.”

“Oh, and the fuzzy coward returns. Fabulous.” I rolled my eyes. “At least we know that monster isn’t coming back.”

The cait sith made a point of yawning, seemingly unfazed by my hostility. “The creature is not coming back,” he agreed, “because it has achieved its goal. I would be worrying about the repercussions of that, were I you.” He gave me a stare of bored disdain that only a cat could accomplish, then twitched his tail. “You do not even know what I speak of, do you? The reason why the creature came here, to Phaed specifically?”

“No, but I can’t wait for you to impart your wisdom upon us poor unknowing slobs.”

“Phaed exists in the Between,” Grimalkin went on, unruffled by my sarcasm, “but from time to time, its edges also touch the borders of the Nevernever. That is how you and the Winter prince were able to find it the first time you came here.”

“Uh, you were there, too, Furball. Don’t forget that part.”

“I never forget, Goodfellow.” He tilted his head, regarding me with superior cat eyes. “But you continue to miss the point. If you were able to travelintoPhaed through the wyldwood, then it stands to reason that the opposite is also true.”

“Which means...” Keirran jerked up with a gasp. “That thing is loose in the Nevernever,” he said darkly. “That’s probably the entire reason it was here, in Phaed. Once it crossed the river, it reached the wyldwood, and from there it could go anywhere it wanted.”

“Indeed,” Grimalkin said. “At least one of you is aware of the situation.”

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