Page 22 of The Iron Raven

I put on my most contrite, charming smile as the wrinkled face of a gnome glared at me through the crack in the cottage door. Beady eyes flashed behind her gold spectacles, and the white bun atop her head bounced indignantly as she shook her head. “No, Robin!” she snapped. “Not this time. You cannot simply show up in the middle of the night needing aid from one of your fool pranks and expect me to drop everything to heal you.”

“Aw, Miss Stacey, that’s what you said last time. You know you don’t mean it. I’m your favorite customer.”

“Out!” the gnome demanded, trying to shove the door shut again, though I had my fingers jammed into the space. “Unless you are on Death’s doorstep, which I can see you are clearly not, I am not getting involved in whatever scrape you have gotten yourself into now.”

The door pinched my fingers, sending a brief but sharp pain through my hand, and deep inside, something flared. Something...not nice. “Really?” I sneered. “Is that what you believe?” Crouching down to the gnome’s level, I brought my face to the crack and bared my teeth in a vicious smile. “Take a good look now and tell me what you think.”

The gnome’s furious gaze met mine, and her face paled. Stumbling away, losing her grip on the door, one hand went to her chest as she stared at me. “Robin,” she whispered as I stood slowly, pushing the door back. “You’ve reverted tothat? What’s gotten into you?” She faltered, then pursed her lips and stood firm, glaring up at me. “What can I do for you, Robin Goodfellow?” she asked coldly.

The flash of genuine fear in the gnome’s eyes stabbed me in the heart, and the flare of nastiness faded. Guiltily, I raked a hand through my hair, wincing as my fingers brushed the rough ridge of a horn. Just another reminder that, once upon a time, I was not a good person.

“Apologies for barging in on you so late,” I muttered, being sure to wait in the doorframe and not step over the threshold. “But this is kinda important, Stacilla. I wouldn’t have come if I didn’t need your help.”

The gnome sighed. “You and everyone else who gets themselves stabbed, slashed, gored, poisoned, or bitten in the Nevernever.” But she relaxed a bit, beckoning to me with a withered hand. “Well, come on in, don’t just hover in the door letting in flies. But if you expect me to do anything about...this situation,” she went on, glancing at my horns again, “I’m honestly not sure how much I can help. I don’t do curses, you know. If that is even a curse.”

“It’s not for me,” I told her, and stepped into the room, ducking to avoid the ceiling. Even though the quaint stone cottage wasn’t exactly gnome-size, it was still smaller than a normal house. “A friend of mine got pretty torn up recently, and we didn’t want to stomp through the wyldwood bleeding at night. We were hoping you could do the whole patch-em-up thing you do so well.”

“What have you and the Winter prince gotten yourselves into this time?” The gnome rolled her eyes. “Doesn’t he have healers in the Iron Realm that can aid whatever is wrong with him? Or would you get him into trouble with the queen if she found out?”

“Ah ha ha. You know us so well. But, it’s not about ice-boy this time,” I said, and stepped aside, letting Nyx into the cottage behind me. “It’s for her.”

Nyx lowered her head as the gnome’s gaze turned on her. “Please excuse this intrusion into your home,” she said politely. “I apologize for any trouble this has caused you.”

The gnome’s bushy eyebrows arched as she stared at the other faery, who waited calmly with her head slightly bowed. “What in the Nevernever...” she began, before rousing herself with a shake. “I’m sorry, but who is this, Goodfellow? I don’t believe I’ve ever seen her kind before, and I have seen nearly everything in the entire realm of Faery at some point.”

“She’s a friend,” I said firmly. “And she’s hurt. Can you help her? We sort of got into a scuffle with something big and toothy.”

Stacilla let out another long-suffering sigh and turned, shoulders hunched in resignation. “Through the hallway,” she said without looking back. “Take the first door on the right. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

We did as she instructed, finding a small room with a bed, a chair, and a cabinet containing all manner of colorful bottles, flasks, and vials within. Curiosity flared; in a less dire situation I would be sorely tempted to fiddle, but at the moment I was more concerned with the faery at my back.

Nyx perched gingerly on the edge of the cot, moving a bit more stiffly now, her jaw rigid as she tried to conceal how much her wounds hurt. My stomach clenched in sympathy. All that time, through the whole fight, she had been badly injured, and it had never showed on her face.

Just like another stubborn fool I know. Is it me? Maybe I just attract that type.

Nyx was certainly an enigma. I wondered where Keirran had found her, or how she had found herself in the Nevernever in the first place. She was different than the others, the Forgotten that had fought in the war with the Lady. And not just in ideals or personality; shelookedvery different. To stay alive and not Fade away, these Forgotten had been forced to subsist on a nasty glamour made from the fears and nightmares of children. And yeah, it was just as creepy as it sounded. Those Forgotten had survived, but the glamour had changed them into eerie shadow fey, living silhouettes without form or features except for their glowing eyes. The monsters that lived in a child’s closet or under their beds.

If Nyx had arrived in the Nevernever after the war, then it would make sense that she had avoided the glamour that had changed her kin into nightmares. But that didn’t explain how she had “woken up,” or her fanatical loyalty to Keirran. From what they had said, I figured she was some kind of assassin who had served the Lady. An extremely lethal, efficient assassin. One who turned into Sailor Moon when said moon was full, and who would stand in front of a horrific, invincible nightmare beast for her king without batting an eyelash.

Nyx saw me watching her and raised a silver eyebrow. “Something on your mind, Goodfellow?” she asked.

I shrugged. “Just wondering how long you and Keirran have known each other. One normally doesn’t go throwing themselves in front of massive killer death machines for total strangers.”

Her lips twitched into a resigned smile. “I don’t remember much of my past life,” she said. “But I do remember my duty was to protect the ruler of Faery with my entire existence. Even if it meant throwing myself in front of...massive killer death machines.” She stumbled a bit over the phrase, then shrugged. “I no longer have a Lady to serve, so my loyalty goes to the King of the Forgotten.”

“Was it a shock? Coming back to find everything had changed?”

“A bit.” A furrow creased her brow. “When Keirran and I first met, I had just woken up, or returned to existence—whatever happens to Forgotten who come back. I didn’t know how much time had passed, what had happened in the human world, or anything about the rise of the new courts. I didn’t believe him when he told me the Lady was dead.”

“Oh, let me guess. You tried to kill him.”

She winced. “I couldn’t believe this half-mortal boy had defeated the ruler I had been serving for centuries,” she said in disbelief. “The Lady was the most powerful faery in the Nevernever. How could this slip of a human even challenge her?”

I snorted. “Yeah, Keirran isn’t exactly a normal human. Or faery. Or...anything that even comes close to normal, really. I’m betting he surprised you right quick.”

“You could say that.” The edge of a smile crossed her face, though it faded in a blink. “Though I still refused to believe the Lady was really dead. Even when we came to an understanding, I held out hope. I thought she might be slumbering, somewhere deep within Phaed or the Deep Wyld.” A pained look crossed her face, and she shook her head. “I left to find her, but it was as Keirran had said. The Lady was gone, her existence erased from the Nevernever. Nothing remains but memory, and even that is fading.”

For a moment, she looked melancholy, then took a quick breath and raised her head. “So be it. The Lady is no more, and Keirran is my liege now. I should be at his side, protecting him.” Her lips tightened, and her gaze strayed toward the door. “I’ve already failed the Lady. I can’t fail him, too.”

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