Page 34 of The Iron Raven

And yeah, it was super hypocritical, but try explaining that to a faery lord. They didn’t do irony.

The Erlking sat rigidly on his throne, observing the court scattered before him. He looked tired, I thought, passing through a cluster of Summer gentry gossiping among themselves. They gave a start when they realized who it was, and I felt their suspicious gazes on my back as I continued across the grove. I ignored them; typical day in the Seelie Court, when Robin Goodfellow arrives, everyone gets nervous.

I reached the foot of the throne and paused, gazing up at the Summer King. I didn’t bow or kneel or do anything deferential, and he didn’t rebuke me for it. We knew each other too well for any of that.

“Goodfellow.” Oberon’s voice was impassive. “I see you’ve actually decided to heed my call for once. Has the court become boring?”

“Oh extremely,” I replied, grinning up at him. “In fact, I was just in the middle of making things a bit more exciting around here. Although, I don’t think a career in porcupine herding is in my future, sadly enough. So, if you’ve got something for me to do, my wandering king, I’d love to hear it.”

He winced before he could catch himself, which showed just how stressed he was feeling. Rising, he gazed past my head, at the rest of the court spread before him, and narrowed his eyes.

“Leave us,” he commanded, his voice booming above all other noise and conversations. Some of the nobles jumped, their expressions startled, and he swept a hand toward the exit. “Depart my presence, all of you,” he ordered. “I wish to speak to the court jester alone.”

They gave him, and me, knowing looks, but immediately turned and left the throne room, slipping out through the tunnel of briars that marked the entrance to the grove.

Oberon sat down again, rubbing his forehead as if he found all of us wearisome. “I have a task for you, Goodfellow,” he began, lowering his arm to stare me down with ancient green eyes. “It is one I would not ask anyone but you to undertake. Of all my subjects in Summer, you know the most about the mortal realm. You travel there more often than anyone in the Seelie Court.”

“Ooh, so I’m going to the human world, then.” I grinned, rubbing my hands together. “Sounds like fun. So, is it to spy on a servant of Winter, remind a disobedient faery why he shouldn’t defy his king, or fetch something ancient and fun from one of those human collectors?”

“None of those,” said Oberon. “And I would not get too excited yet, Goodfellow. You see...” He paused, steepling his fingers under his pointed chin. “This task will require you not only to go to the mortal realm, but to live there.”

I blinked at him. “What?” I exclaimed. “Are you exiling me, then? I haven’t even done anything yet.”

“No.” Oberon shook his head. “This is not a punishment, Robin,” he assured me. “You are not being exiled or banished from Faery. But I do require you to go to the human world and not return to the Nevernever for...a while.”

“How long?”

“I do not know. Possibly years.” The Seelie King sighed, either oblivious or uncaring of my dismay. “I need you to find a particular mortal,” he went on. “A human child. If my enemies discover her, they will use her against me. You must go to the mortal realm, find this girl, and protect her from the danger around her. You must also keep her oblivious to the world of the fey—she must never learn of her heritage, and she must never cross the Veil into Faery. Do you understand?”

“Uggghhh,” I groaned. Suddenly everything made sense. So, the rumors surrounding the Seelie King’s trip to the mortal world were entirely true. “You want me to become a glorified babysitter for this human?” I asked, watching Oberon’s gaze narrow. “How long is she going to need someone watching over her?”

“Until I deem otherwise,” the Seelie King said in that final, uncompromising way of his. “At the very least, until I believe she is in no danger and is not a threat herself.”

I groaned again, and his voice became a bit more soothing.

“Do not fret, Robin Goodfellow,” he cajoled. “If the girl never comes into Faery, she will have a perfectly normal human lifespan, and mortals do not live very long. At the very worst, you will have to stay in the mortal realm only until she dies.”

“Guess I really don’t have a say in this, do I?” I muttered, and the Erlking didn’t bother to answer that question. “Fine. I’ll do it, but I won’t like it. Where is this remarkable human, and how will I know I’ve found her?”

“The child was born of a human mother,” Oberon said, sounding wistful for the barest of seconds. “As of right now, they are living in a place called Louisiana. The child’s name, or the name her mother gave her, is Meghan Chase.”

10

INTO THE IRON REALM. FINALLY

This time, there was no trouble. Though the knights did glare daggers at Nyx as we walked by, they didn’t attempt to speak or stop us as we strolled past the gates onto the bridge. I didn’t see Glitch again, either, and once past the gates, the presence of the guards disappeared. We had a clear shot to the Iron Kingdom with no opposition whatsoever.

Honestly, I was kind of disappointed. That spiteful, vindictive part of me I was trying to ignore still wanted to enact a bit of gleeful revenge against the stiff-necked Iron faeries, and the thought of the tin cans rolling around in the mud like pigs made me snicker. Maybe later, when we had finished our business in Mag Tuiredh, I would pay Glitch and the knights a little visit. Remind them why the rest of Faery didn’t screw around with Robin Goodfellow.

“You have that evil smile on your face again,” Nyx remarked as we continued across the bridge. She hopped easily onto the railing and strolled along the edge as the wind howling up from the chasm tossed her hair and made her cloak snap around her. “If you’re plotting your revenge, I hope you plan to wait untilafterwe’ve seen the queen. I get the feeling your vengeance plans are rather extensive.”

“Revenge? Me?” I echoed, grinning up at her. “Revenge is such a petty pastime, my good Forgotten. Is this the face of someone obsessed with vengeance?”

“You have horns, hooves, and are smiling like a fox who just discovered the chicken coop was left open,” Nyx replied without hesitation. Abruptly, she jumped from the railing and landed in my path with a challenging smirk, her face inches from mine and the moonlight blazing down on her. “You tell me, Robin Goodfellow.”

In that moment, I almost kissed her. An instinctive reaction, really. I was Robin Goodfellow, the infamous Puck; I had kissed countless pretty girls, human and fey alike. Graceful nymphs, flirtatious satyrs, ethereal sidhe, and naive human females in the mortal world, none could resist my charm once I’d turned it on. I’d kissed a few boys as well, along with a mermaid, a trio of plant creatures that had no discernible gender, and one very disillusioned frog that thought it was a princess.

Kissing, and all the activities that came with it, was so common an occurrence in the Nevernever it was almost expected. Love was never an option, or even an afterthought. While some fey did grow quite attached to each other, even to the point of developing real affection, true love required work, sacrifice, and putting the other person before yourself, something few faeries understood. So while I had done a lot of kissing in my long years as Robin Goodfellow, very little of it meant anything to me.

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