Page 3 of The Iron Raven

Pause.

Nah, it’s totally worth it.

“Robin Goodfellow?”

I winced and turned. Across the aisle, a crinkle-faced gnome whose white hair looked like a miniature sheep was sleeping on her head peered at me over a long, low table. The counter before her was lined with green, longneck bottles that, even from several paces away, let off a heady sweet smell that could make a lesser faery slightly dizzy.

I grinned and stepped up to the table, putting my fingers to my lips. “Shh, Marla. Don’t say my name too loudly. I’m incognito tonight.”

“Incognito.” The ancient gnome scowled, making her eyes nearly disappear into the folds of her face. “In a heap of trouble, more likely. What are you doing here, you terrible thing? And get away from my bottles. The last thing I need is for my wine tosomehowmake its way into the livestock tents. I can just see the nobles’ carriages veering into ditches and trees because their horses are all suddenly very drunk.”

“What?” I blinked at her, wide-eyed. “That happened at only one Elysium, and no one could prove what went wrong.” The biannual event where the faery courts came together to discuss politics and review treaties while parading around in fancy clothes was just as boring as it sounded. For my own sanity, I made it a point to spice things up every once in a while. “Though come on, admit that watching Mab’s carriage walk in circles the whole way out was hilarious.”

“I will admit no such thing,” the wine vendor snapped, and jabbed a withered finger in my direction. “Only that you are an incorrigible troublemaker and always up to no good. I don’t know why Lord Oberon hasn’t banished you permanently.”

“Well, he keeps trying.” I shrugged, grinning at her. “But never sticks. I guess I’m just too charming. I’ve been banished from the Nevernever...what, three times now? Or, is it four? Eh, it doesn’t matter. Eventually, he always orders me to come back. Funny how that happens.”

It happened because I was far too useful to keep away for long, and Oberon knew it. And while it was comforting, in its own twisted way, that the Summer King would never truly get rid of me, there were times when I wished I could be free, even if that would leave me homeless.

The gnome shot me a dark look, and I gave her a dreamy, overexaggerated smile. “Between us, I think Titania secretly misses me too much.”

Marla snorted. “If the Summer Queen heard you say that, there’d be lightning storms for a month,” she muttered, then straightened in alarm. “Wait, you were looking at Ugfrig’s wares a moment ago,” she exclaimed. “Don’t tell me you were contemplating the mouse beads.”

“Well...”

A snuffle interrupted us. I looked down to see a small, brown-and-white dog gazing up at me, stub tail wagging. It was cute, in a scraggly, ankle-biter kind of way. But I could see the copper gears, cogs, and pistons poking through its fur that marked it as a creature of the Iron Court. A clockwork hound. Or terrier, I supposed. A pair of flight goggles on its head glittered in the moonlight as the dog gazed up at me and whined.

I smiled. “Hey, pooch,” I greeted. “Where did you come from?” It gave a small, hopeful yap, and I shrugged. “I don’t have any gears you can munch on, sorry.”

Marla gazed over the edge of the table and recoiled like I was talking to a giant cockroach. “Abomination!” she spat, and the clockwork terrier cringed at the sound of her voice. “Get out of here, monster! Shoo!”

The small creature fled, gears and pistons squeaking as it scurried away and vanished around a booth.

I frowned. “Well, it’s a good thing you scared it off. It looked terribly vicious.”

“It was of the Iron Realm,” the gnome muttered, wrinkling her nose. “It belongs to the Iron faery that set up shop in the goblin market. Horrible creature. They shouldn’t be allowed.”

“Wait, there’s an Iron faery here? In the market?” I was surprised. Though there was no law that barred the Iron fey from the goblin market, in the early days most of the traditional fey would not have tolerated their presence. Recently, however, it had been officially decreed that the goblin market was open toallfey, including the faeries of the Iron Realm. This was at the Iron Queen’s insistence, because the faeries of Summer and Winter welcomed change as well as an old cat welcomed a new puppy. But this was the first I’d heard of one setting up shop.

“Where is this Iron faery?” I asked.

The gnome gave a disapproving sniff. “In a tent on the far edge of the market,” she replied, stabbing a finger in that direction. “Beneath the old Ferris wheel. At least it has the good sense to keep away from the rest of us.” She eyed me in a critical manner. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you would want to associate with those abominations.”

“Nope, that’s me. I love hanging around abominations.” I grinned at her sour expression, though truthfully, I was surprised at the venom coming from the tiny gnome. Though the Iron fey still faced fear and distrust from the rest of the Nevernever, most residents of Faery had accepted they were here to stay. “But, uh, you are aware that we’ve been at peace with the Iron Court for years now, right? And that their queen is kind of a good friend of mine?”

She snorted. “I don’t mind the Iron Queen,” she stated. “Or the rest of them, as long as they stay within their own borders. But I don’t want to have to worry about Iron fey when I’m in the goblin market. Or anywhere that isn’t the Iron Realm.” Marla shook a finger at me. “The next time you see the Iron Queen, you should tell her to keep her subjects within her own territory, not allow them to wander where they please, terrorizing normal fey.”

“Well, this has been a riveting conversation, but I’m afraid I have to go.” I stepped back from the counter, smoothly avoiding a collision with a dwarf, who grumbled at me under his beard. Tugging my hood up farther, I glanced at Marla over the bottles of wine and offered my best disarming smile. “I’m off to find this Iron vendor and send them your well wishes.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “This will be ignored I’m sure, but be careful, Robin. You might be in the good graces of the Iron Queen, but none of those things can be trusted.”

“Careful?” I grinned. “I’m Robin Goodfellow. When am I not careful?”

She rolled her eyes, and I left, melting back into the crowds of the goblin market.

Well, that was weird. I wonder what’s up? Did a gremlin spit in her wine or something?

I wasn’t naive. I knew there were those in the Nevernever that still hated and feared Meghan’s subjects; I just hadn’t expected to run into such blatant hostility here. In the market, you left all grudges, feuds, and personal vendettas behind. It was how a Summer sidhe and a Winter gentry could browse side by side without killing each other. Or why a halfling could walk past a motley of redcaps without fear of having their limbs ripped off. One did not tamper with the sanctity of the market, especially since many of the vendors sold some of the most dangerous, rare, and questionable items in the entire world of Faery. Make trouble here, and the least that could happen was being banned for life. Not evenIwould risk pissing off the goblin market.

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