Page 39 of The Iron Raven

“And that, my good assassin, is what makes itsoenticing.”

A clanking sound interrupted us. I turned just as a huge, black Iron horse walked calmly through the falling steam in front of the alley. Pistons hissed and cylinders spun as the great Iron creature came to a halt a few steps away, looming over us. Burning red eyes peered down at me, and tongues of flame flickered through the gaps and chinks in its belly, making the air around it shimmer. It flicked its tail, iron cables clattering against its hide, and tossed its head with a snort.

“Well?” Coaleater’s voice was impatient. He raised a hoof and pawed the sidewalk, releasing a tiny cloud of sparks. “Are you two going to sit and stare at me, or are you going to get on?”

I winced, remembering the last time I’d ridden on the Iron horse’s back. It had been several years ago, in the battle with the false king, and we had kicked ass, but parts of me were not happy after the battle. And Nyx, in her condition, couldn’t afford to get any weaker. “You know, maybe we should just walk.”

“I thought you wished to get to the palace quickly.” Coaleater’s gaze fell on Nyx, still slumped against the wall, and he swished his tail again. “It is either this, or take your chances with the spider carriage.”

“I’m all right.” Nyx pushed herself to her feet, gazing up at the Iron faery. “If you can get us to the palace quickly, I can endure. Let’s go.”

Coaleater nodded, then bent his front legs and lowered himself to his knees, making it easier to climb aboard his back. Even weakened and not feeling the best, Nyx hopped behind his shoulders with easy grace. Glancing at me, she held out her hand with a faint smile.

“Coming, Goodfellow?”

I rolled my eyes. “Revenge of the rash, part two,” I sighed, and took her hand, letting her swing me up behind her. Coaleater lurched to his feet with a snort, and I yelped as tongues of flame clawed at the bottom of my feet. “Ow, hey, Rusty, could you maybe not breathe so hard? I could probably go the rest of my life without having my toes barbecued.”

Coaleater tossed his head, powerful muscles coiling beneath his iron skin as he gazed toward the distant palace. “Hang on,” he said absently.

I frowned. “Hang on? On to what? I’m not seeing a saddle horn back here.”

Nyx shook her head. “Just grab on to me, Goodfellow,” she said, and with a deep whinny, Coaleater half reared and sprang forward, nearly dumping me from my seat. I lunged and wrapped my arms around the Forgotten’s waist, feeling her slim body against mine. My stomach twisted, and my heartbeat sped up as Coaleater’s stride lengthened and Nyx pressed low over his back. Her hood fell back, strands of silvery hair brushing my face, cool and softer than silk.

“Oh yeah, this definitely better than a saddle horn,” I grinned, resting my chin on her shoulder. “I could get used to this—” She pinched my leg. “Ow. Okay, shutting up now.”

The ride to the palace was short but very rough. Coaleater appeared to have unlimited endurance; his iron hooves clattered against the road as he cantered through the streets of Mag Tuiredh, dodging faeries, carts, vendors, and carriages. He was like a New York City cab driver, where vehicle lanes were merely suggestions and the sidewalk was a viable avenue for getting around traffic. After a few close calls, we finally found ourselves on a mostly clear road up a steep hill, where the Iron Queen’s palace resided at the top.

Our valiant steed skidded to a halt a short distance from the palace gates, huffing and wheezing like the train pulling into the station, steam spewing off him like a geyser. At the end of the road, Iron knights guarded the entrance to the palace in their super shiny armor, metal swords and breastplates glimmering in the sun.

I slid from our billowing ride’s back and hit the cobblestones with a grunt, relieved to be on solid ground again. The steam and humidity had made my hair stand on end like a dandelion poof. Nyx swung a graceful leg over the horse’s back and dropped to the ground without so much as a stumble.

“Well,” I remarked, putting my hands on my hips as we stared up at the soaring palace of stone, glass, and steel, “we’re here.”

I felt a ripple of Iron glamour behind me, as Coaleater shed his equine form for his more human one. The skin on his arms and shoulders still steamed, though, giving him the impression of being on fire. “I take it you and the Forgotten are expected, Goodfellow?”

“Nope,” I said cheerfully. “Not in the slightest.”

The Iron faery frowned. “Then how do you expect to get in to see the Iron Queen?”

Nyx gave a resigned chuckle. “We’re going to walk through the front gates again, aren’t we?” she sighed.

“Wow, it’s like you’ve done this with me before.”

“Yes, and it worked out so well for us last time.”

“Robin Goodfellow?”

We looked up. A guard was striding toward us, not aggressive or hostile, but definitely with some purpose. I felt Coaleater stiffen, and Nyx drew farther into her hood as the knight approached, but the faery’s attention was solely on me.

“Robin Goodfellow,” he said again, stopping with a quick salute. “You’ve arrived. If you and your friends would please follow me. The queen has been expecting you.”

I blinked, then turned to lift a brow at the other two, both looking stunned as the knight bowed and strode back toward the gates. “See, what did I tell you?” I said, falling into step behind the knight. “Everything works out for Puck in the end. I don’t know how you could have doubted me.”

12

OLD FRIENDS, OLD ENEMIES

The knight didn’t take us all the way to the throne room. Once we were past the enormous courtyard, up the flight of stone steps, and through the massive double doors, a small, squat faery waited for us in the main foyer.

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