Page 55 of The Iron Raven

“What is it, then?” Ash wondered. “If it’s not part of Faery, what are we dealing with?”

The cat gave him an impatient look and thumped his tail. “If I knew that, prince,” he said, “we would not be here in the Briars,chasing down a group of Forgotten to askthemwhat it is.”

“You’re a plague, Goodfellow.”

I turned. Ash stood several yards away, his face shrouded in darkness from the canopy overhead, his features hidden. Only the neon-blue glow of his ice sword shone clearly through the gloom.

I grinned, showing all my teeth. “A plague, you say? I’m flattered, ice-boy. That sounds impressive.” Drawing my knives, I twirled them in my hands and struck a pose, still smiling. “Let me show you the other thing I’m impressive at.”

I lunged at him. He met me in the center of the clearing, sweeping down with his blade, as we began the dance we were both familiar with. Round and round we went, hacking, dodging, parrying, while indistinct faces appeared at the edges of the shadows and watched.

“You infect everything you touch,” the prince spat at me as our blades flashed and clanged off one another’s. “You’re alone in the world because, sooner or later, everyone realizes you can’t be trusted. That’s why Meghan chose me. That’s why Nyx will never want you.”

“You know, I don’t remember you being so obnoxious.”

Ash stepped back, his blade falling to his side, to stare me down with cold silver eyes. I glared back, one corner of my mouth twisted in a sneer, as around us the figures silently watched and judged.

“Why are you still fighting me, Goodfellow?” Ash wondered, a smirk of his own creeping across his face. It transformed him into something ugly and hateful, and I squeezed my daggers until the hilts bit into my palm. “You lost. Meghan loves me, and nothing will change that. I’ve already won.”

“I wouldn’t celebrate just yet, prince.” I stalked toward him, feeling hate and glamour swirl around me like a whirlwind. “You could still lose everything. After all, I’m still alive.”

I lunged at him, stabbing my daggers right for his offensively pretty face...and the world disappeared.

I opened my eyes. The fire in the pit had burned low, and the sky was still pitch-black through the trees. Carefully, I sat up, gazing around for the others. Grimalkin was gone, typical for him, but I could see the red glow of Coaleater under a tree several yards away, equine head bent low as he slept standing upright. I wondered when he had changed into horse form, and also if he found sleeping upright more comfortable. I didn’t see Nyx anywhere, but I wasn’t too worried about the assassin; if she was on watch, she was probably stalking the woods around the camp, silent and unseen and looking for things to stab.

Across the fire, Meghan dozed in Ash’s arms, with the Ice Prince leaning against a tree and both their swords out and within easy reach. And though ice-boy looked like he was sleeping soundly, I knew that was often a lie. All it would take was one twig to snap and he’d be on his feet, already slashing at whatever had made the noise. Years of trying to sneak up on him had taught me to be wary even when I thought he was unconscious.

But it had also taught me the difference between the times he was conscious and those brief moments when he was truly asleep.

Like now.

Memories of the dream trickled back to me, seeping anger and resentment into my veins. I felt a slow smile stretch across my face as I rose, gazing down at them, at the slumbering Ice Prince in particular.

Well, don’t you look comfortable, ice-boy. I don’t think you’re taking me very seriously, to be so relaxed. Maybe it’s time I did something about that...

“Can’t sleep, Goodfellow?”

I jumped, nearly falling into the firepit. “Geez, Nyx,” I whispered, turning to find her crouched silently on a rock a few feet away, crescent blades held loosely in her fingers, eyes glowing yellow in the darkness. “Not that I mind the whole guardian-angel-of-death thing you’ve got going on, but could you not loom so menacingly?”

“Why not? I’m very good at it.”

“No argument there.” I scrubbed a hand over my chin as the assassin continued to watch me, unblinking. “But it’s still a few hours till dawn, and now that I’m up I might as well take watch. Maybe you should try to get some sleep?”

She gave me a faint, knowing smile. “I can’t,” she said simply, keeping her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m a nocturnal fey, Puck. I don’t sleep at night. I’m not even sure I could if I wanted to.”

“Really? That’s unfortunate. Sleeping is one of my favorite things to do, after all. And all the activities that come before sleeping as well.”

Whoops, did I just say that out loud? I eyed the Forgotten, wondering if she would take offense, ready to leap back should she hurl a moonlight shuriken at me. She gave a weird little smirk beneath the hood and rose, brushing the cowl back so that the light spilled over her silver hair.

“I, too, enjoy the activities that come before sleeping,” she said. “Quite a lot, in fact. Come find me, and I’ll show you what they are.”

And before my eyes, she shimmered, like a beam of moonlight across a glass window, and disappeared.

“O-kaaaaaaaay.” I shot a look at Meghan and Ash, still dozing against the trunk. Despite my earlier feelings, I didn’t exactly want something to jump them while they were asleep. If I went prancing off into the woods without explanation, they might be cross if some big nasty ambushed them while I was gone. Though honestly, those two would be fine. Meghan was the Iron Queen, and Ash was Ash. They didn’t need me watching over them.

The glint of a single golden eye pierced the darkness as I stood there, debating with myself. From an overhead branch, Grimalkin gave me a bored look, then closed his eye again, curling his tail around his nose.

That decided it. If Furball was unconcerned, then there was no danger. I turned my back on the sleeping pair and slipped away, into the woods where I hoped the shadowy Forgotten had vanished to.

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