107A/N: Did you know your reviews make me prance about in joy before cranking out a couple of pages in one sitting?
Also, I am now *tentively* thinking to recruiting a Beta reader to help me improve my writing. Payment would include deleted scenes (including bloopers. The characters are like actors in my head, and occasionally they go off script and do their own ridiculous shenanigans.) and my own Beta services! I would like to do a test run of this kind of exchange, just to change up the creative process and see how it goes. It can get a little lonely doing all this writing, editing, and plotting thing myself, ya know? PM if you're interested!
Dear Angie: You are very right about Rowan being a tortured soul. I'm also a fan of the bad guys, and I think there may be some redemption left in Rowan IF circumstances allow… I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long for this chapter! As always, your input is amazing and really keep me going!
"Strength is born in the deep silence of long-suffering hearts."
-Felicia Hem
Night had fallen in full over the encampment, balls of faery fire and torches threw everything into ominous light and shadow. If I concentrated enough, I could still detect the weird animal-like smell of the griffin that had called this cage home before they removed it, sticking me inside in its stead. I pulled my legs closer to my chest in an attempt to conserve body heat. My entire backside was stiff, but I dared not lean against the bars of my bronze enclosure, choosing to stay smack dab in the middle. Who knew if a red cap would sneak up and try to take a bite out of me?
I had attracted a crowd of curious spectators, all jostling to get a glimpse of Oberon's daughter/ the supposed Ex Iron Queen. They growled and hissed at one another, their feral eyes reflecting the yellow firelight to complete the illusion I was surrounded by demons. I caught snippets of their conversations.
"There's no way she can be this 'Iron Queen'. She's too...tiny." A towering minotaur rumbled.
"It must have been a tall tale." A slyph chittered back.
"She just reeks of iron." A pale faced bogey covered the hole in his face where a nose should have been.
"The whelp still looks tasty, maybe if-"
I tuned them out after that, having no desire to hear the creative ways I could be skinned and cooked.
Thankfully, the guards posted made sure they didn't act on their malevolent desires, keeping them a safe distance away. I endured the crowd with all the stoicism I could muster, refusing to show the weakness they so craved. I gritted my teeth, wanting nothing more than to curl up in a bed and forget about Ash's harsh words and glare of contempt. It was a wonder that he showed even a glimmer of attraction to me in the first place, when obviously he thought I was no more than slime on the sole of his boot. It was all a ruse, a cruel little game to earn my compliance. Like he said, the Unseelie specialized in toying with emotions.
A goblin waggled his thick, yellowed fingers at me, leering. I suppressed a wince of disgust before returning my attention to my boots. Privacy was not a luxury here, and moping in front of a blood-thirsty audience was not a bright idea. Mentally, I shoved all my heartache into a little chest, filing it alongside other misery-inducing thoughts and inviting numbness in. I dare say I was getting rather good at this.
The unseelie were becoming aware of how boring I was to watch since I was doing a fairly decent job ignoring them while remaining expressionless. They began to wander off to attend to other duties - except for one mischievous phouka.
"Sooooo, I heard a little rumor that you fell for the winter prince." She chirped conversationally, cat ears twitching back and forth. My guards watched her cuttingly, but she kept a nonthreatening distance from my prison.
I didn't entertain the nosy fey with an answer, staring intently at the gouges in the earth the previous tenant left behind instead.
"It's not your fault. Prince Ash just has that effect on people." She continued, unperturbed at my silence. "No silly mortal can look at him and not fall in love. How many hearts do you think he has already broken?"
My spirits sank even lower. I used to think me and Ash had the beginnings of something special. I thought I was special. Now I'm just one in the long line of foolish humans to develop affection for an unattainable prince.
"Just thought you should know." She purred, "save yourself the heartache. Let him go, Meghan." Her tail waved back in forth, "He's in love with someone else. Has been for a long time."
"Ariella." I couldn't help but whisper.
"Huh. He told you about her?" She seemed genuinely surprised, "Then you should already know she was the most beautiful sidhe of the Winter Court. He would never betray her memory for a half-human weakling like you."
"Tiaothin." The tallest guard finally intervened. "Stop harassing the prisoner."
She bared her teeth petulantly, "We're just talking, you sour old coot."
"I will hear no argument from you. Move along before we make you." The knight replied sternly, hand hovering over his battle-ax.
Tiaothin hunched her shoulders in a sarcastic show of fear, the ridiculous rhinestones on her leather jacket winking in the faery light ."Ooooh scary. Whatever you say, oh great grunt." She held up her clawed hands innocently, shooting a conspiratorial smile my way. "I'll be seeing you around, Meghan." Tiaothin ambled off, whistling cheerfully.
Just what I needed - a phouka trying to get under my skin. Ash warned me about the cruel and conniving nature of the Unseelie, so it wasn't completely unexpected. Despite her obvious intentions, she had a point. Ash loved someone else, a perfect memory I could never compete against. Heck, right before we entered the trod into the Iron kingdom he muttered "You're a lot like her." There was a lot happening at that time (like running from metal dragons), but now that I had the time fully reminisce and reflect on that moment, it was all embarrassingly obvious. It really didn't take a genius to put two and two together.
I wanted to laugh at myself, and my shoulders began shaking with tragic mirth and grief. Why didn't I realize it sooner? Whenever he looked at me, he wasn't really seeing me: plain old Meghan Chase who was addicted to 80's rock and liked cheerios for breakfast. The prince was seeing a shadow of his one radiant love, the one considered most beautiful even to other fey. He was still head over heels for a dead girl that happened to be similar to me. Ash was a capricious prince who, probably upon realizing that I was...well myself, lost all interest, transforming into his natural state of being an aloof, insensitive ass. Well, he told me not to trust him, and I was simply too stupid to heed the full extent of the warning. We were never meant to be.
Come on Meghan, you didn't even know if you still liked him like that. You couldn't even look at him without thinking about Tertius. But if I was so unsure about my feelings for Ash, why did his rejection hurt so much? I dug my nails into the trampled grass. Why can't I just forget him?
I want to forget about those silly butterflies he stirred within my belly, our one reckless kiss, those confessions in a makeshift cave while rain drummed against the roof.
I want to forget the first dance we shared at Elysium, the way we had pressed against each other, our hearts thrumming wildly, the blink and the almost dazed smile he gave me.
I want those memories to scatter like dandelion seeds in the wind, bright and soft until they are ultimately gone.
I was caught between the desire of screaming louder than a banshee or wailing like a five-year-old. I wanted to pound the sides of my cage until my knuckles bled. Instead, I leaned my forehead against my knees in an attempt to maintain my dispassionate exterior. Machina is gone. Tertius is missing in action. Ash has turned on me.
In my utter desolation and grief, I wished Puck was here. Puck, who always said the right things at the right time, who could make me smile and laugh until my belly ached just from his carefree attitude or by pulling a face. I sniffed, the yearning festering in my gut.
Exhaustion overtook me, but I dared not sleep. I was way too exposed, only a set of bars protecting me from the Unseelie and elements. And then there was the Iron King. I knew his visage would be waiting for me in my dreams, ready to cripple me with helpless guilt or a nightmarish flash back. But eventually, the paranoia couldn't outweigh the emotional and physical fatigue. I rested my forehead against my knees. It can't hurt to close my eyes. Just for a minute...
I must have drowsed, for I jolted awake from an abstract dream about books and two pale, dirty children holding hands when a horn blared on the opposite side of the camp. The guards immediately unsheathed their axes.
I stood stiffly as shouts arose. Knights, goblins, centaurs and other fey I didn't have a name for spilled from their tents, grabbing whatever weapons were in reach. The horn bellowed once more, and I had to shout to be heard.
"What's going on?"
The knights relaxed somewhat, but still kept their weapons bared and a wary eye out. The rest of the fey did the same, murmuring as they streamed to the other side of the encampment to see the commotion. "Summer is here." The tallest and most vocal one replied, jaw set grimly. "But they're not attacking."
My hope leapt anew. Oberon. He must have caught wind of my capture, and intended to get me out of here. And Puck! The last time I saw him, he was dreadfully wounded and had to heal from his injuries inside of a dryad tree. I had this instinctive feeling that he was awake by now, already looking for me. Would it be possible that Puck returned to the summer court? Would he be here as well?
No. My shoulders slumped, remembering he was deep trouble with Seelie king. Puck was supposed to bring me back to my biological father's realm, and instead joined me on my adventure to find Ethan. He is in deep, deep trouble on my behalf. The summer court would be the last place I'd find him.
A cloaked figure emerged from the last, dying trails of Unseelie, cutting a direct trail towards my cage. When they came closer, torchlight threw brief illumination across their hooded head.
"Prince Ash." One of the knights greeted. That got my attention. I glowered at the prince, too tired and aggravated with his earlier behavior to disguise my loathing. Couldn't I catch a freaking break? He was absolutely, positively the last thing I wanted to see right now. I would rather walk on hot coals barefoot than endure his company.
"Mab wants the prisoner." He said smoothly. My back straightened. He sounded like himself, but didn't at the same time. The prince's voice lacked the usual bored tone he used when dealing with fellow Unseelie fey.
"Of course."
"Much appreciated." the prince nodded.
The guard grabbed the ring of keys from his waist, unlocking the door.
My joints creak as I trudge out of my prison, and I suspiciously glared at the prince. Freaking capricious fey. Maybe he had another mood swing and temporarily developed politeness. I wonder how long this will last before he finds a different personality to take on.
"I won't be needing an escort." Ash said to the guards who made to follow us.
They shifted uneasily. "I'm sorry, Your Highness, but the queen ordered us to stay with the half breed. We cannot leave her."
He sighed, and then suddenly made two sharp movements, two small projectiles flying from his hands. I squeaked in surprise, the guards simultaneously clutching their necks, eyes rolling back as they collapsed to the ground, unconscious.
"I'm terribly sorry to startle you, Queen Meghan.'"
Ash would never call me Queen Meghan…
"Tertius!" I exclaimed in disbelief. I stared at him, thunderstruck. Glimmering gunmetal eyes met mine, and if I looked hard enough into the shadows of his cowl, I could see the scar curving over his cheek. "You're… you're alive!?" I attack hugged him with all my might, throwing my arms around his neck. The scent of his salty sweat and unmistakable musk filled my nose. I was almost shocked when he returned the hug just as fiercely, his awkwardness about bodily contact temporarily forgotten.
A great weight had been thrown from my shoulders, leaving me delirious from delight . He kept his promise! I was caught between crying from joy or laughing or doing both at the same time.
"Of course I am alive." I felt rather than saw his grin. "I said I would come back for you."
"Good grief!" Came a new yet familiar voice. Grimalkin appeared before us, golden eyes wide and ears flat. "This is no time to have a heartwarming reunion. We have to get out of here before someone sees us!"
"Grim!?" I gasped, pulling away from my savior. The warning brought me to my senses, and I fearfully scanned the area. But miraculously the few fey in eyesight had their backs to us as they trekked to the opposite side of camp, their attention directed at the confrontation with summer rather than my shoddy enclosure.
Tertius swiftly plucked the darts from the guards' necks before grabbing my hand, pulling. He towed me after the grey feline down a makeshift ally of tents. "How did you guys-"
"Not now, human." The cat hissed over his shoulder.
The air shimmered around me, "Don't speak or make eye contact." The knight instructed, "Or they may see through the glamour."
I nodded, letting him guide me after Grimalkin who seemed to know exactly where to go. Trolls and boggarts and goblins still milled about here and there, but thanks to Tertius' disguise, glamour, and the convenient distraction the summer court created, we made our way through unnoticed. Grim didn't have the luxury of a cloak, and he vanished multiple times, leaving us blindly walking in the direction we last saw him. But he would always reappear when the immediate danger was gone, luminous eyes impatiently beckoning us to follow.
There was so much I wanted to ask, all my questions bottled up thanks to the delicate glamour I was hiding under.
How did you escape? Are you okay? How did Grim find you?
His hand was warm in mine, and for the first time in what felt like ages, I felt blindingly happy. Tertius was alive and looked fully healed. Grim, who knew pretty much everything, is back in all his sophisticated arrogance. I wanted to sweep that cat up into a bear hug, but his sharp claws would probably turn my face into hamburger, and right now would be a terrible time to cause such a dramatic scene. We were treading through the enemy's camp, but I might as well have been skipping through a field of flowers from this elated high. Fear couldn't touch me. The three of us combined were invincible.
Darkness surrounded us as we finally left the encampment that blazed with magical light and lanterns. I stumbled after Tertius as my eyes struggled to adapt to the sudden darkness, and his steady grip kept me from pitching face-first into the ground on multiple occasions. When my eyes fully adjusted, Grim picked up the pace, forcing us into a run.
We had made it to the top of the valley and a little beyond before alarm horns screamed in the distance. Grimalkin streaked along the ground, looking more like a puff of ethereal smoke than a cat. Tertius set his jaw, pulling me to go even faster to keep up. Cold sweat dripped down my spine. Winter had discovered me missing, and soon the hills will be flooded with angry Unseelie, looking for their valuable prisoner. As capable as the first general was, he couldn't defeat an army. And they would be particularly furious with him for spiriting me away.
And Mab…
My adrenaline spiked anew, and my legs pumped away furiously, breaths coming out ragged. My high was gone. A cold, pit of fear had settled in my stomach once more. I swore I could hear the sound of pursuit, but I wasn't sure if they were real or the product of my pounding heart and fear-riddled mind. Branches tore at my hair and clothes, but I barreled on, ignoring the pain. I had never run so hard in my life, but it wasn't enough.
The sound of hooves came from behind, sounding terribly real and not at all a part of my imagination. My blood ran cold.
"Tert-!"
But he was already swinging around, pushing me behind him. A huge, black shape loomed behind us. It was a centaur, long flowing black hair draped across its bare, grey chest. It's blood-red eyes flashed in the dim light as it drew up short, gracefully pulling its bow back with a snarl. Time slowed. It released its lethal bolt, and it flew straight and true towards Tertius' chest. With horror, I realized what the general intended to do. He was going to take the shot.
No! My consciousness instinctively plunged into earth. Just like in the final battle with the Iron King, I found the life force of the surrounding trees, eager to bend to my will and form a protective shield. I grabbed hold and pulled.
Nothing happened.
Pulled harder.
Nothing.
It's too late. I didn't even have time to push him out of the way.
Tertius' hand shot out, catching the projectile in mid-flight just before it pierced him. My jaw dropped, and with his other hand the knight whipped out a small blowpipe from his belt, shooting his own lethal dart at the assailant. The centaur reared, gurgling, clutching its neck in shock before keeling over.
Tertius tossed the arrow aside as if it was only a stick, not the instrument of a near-fatal attack. The whole confrontation only took two seconds. And then we were off again, hurtling through the forest.
"This way!" Hissed Grimalkin to our right. We veered towards his voice, my legs barely able to clear a small stream that sprung up from nowhere, but the cat was nowhere in sight. The general needed no further direction, seeming to know where to go.
What the hell is happening to me? First, I couldn't use glamour at all, and during the final battle, I miraculously unlocked my ability to wield it. Then afterward, the smallest of parlor tricks made me nauseous to the point of almost passing out. And now, absolutely nothing. Not even the faintest traces of nausea or ability to use it.
Experimentally, I mentally reached out, easily finding a tree aglow with life just ahead, ready to be manipulated with a gentle push. But nothing happened when I willed a root to rise. It was like hitting an insurmountable glass barrier every time I tried - solid, unyielding, and frustratingly impenetrable.
My glamour was nonexistent once more, leaving me painfully powerless. I'm just a hunk of meat to the blood-thirsty fey now.
That vulnerability made me charge on all the faster.
We ran for what felt like hours. Each breath felt like sandpaper against my throat, my legs trembled and burned with exertion. Dehydration didn't even begin to describe the thirst I felt. When I started falling behind, Tertius grabbed my hand once more, encouraging me to keep up with a squeeze. I tried. I really did. I was never a cross country runner, never ran a distance greater than a mile.
Sweat drenched the bandages I was still wrapped in, and I could feel them unraveling beneath my clothes. It was a small blessing that the ointment expedited the body's natural mending process, so the mostly healed cuts caused me no pain. But that's not to say I wasn't experiencing any. Cramps seized my sides, my stomach groaned from hunger or nausea or both, and my head pounded as hard as my heart. But I had to keep going. If I stopped, we were as good as dead.
The grueling run finally ended when the trees gave way to a wide, lethargic river. When Tertius stopped, I fell to my knees, my buckling legs unable to support my weight any longer.
I dug my nails into the silt of the riverbank, trying desperately to catch my ragged, wheezing breaths. My tongue felt swollen, mouth dryer than Death Valley itself. Tertius was there beside me, his brow sporting the slight sheen of sweat, his breathing only slightly quickened.
He took something from his belt, going to the river. My stomach was completely empty, and I wrestled back the wave of queasiness from too much exertion and not enough food or liquid.
"It appears we have lost our pursuers. For now." Came Grim's voice. He was perched on a rock, grooming his forepaw. He looked a little tired, but otherwise unaffected by the marathon of a run we just had. Stupid, physically fit fey.
There were so many questions I wanted to ask, but I could only gasp and tremble, body starved for oxygen. Tertius was back, holding out a small canteen filled with river water. I sat back, wordlessly accepted it and greedily gulped it down. The ice cold punch of the liquid hit my mouth, sliding down my esophagus all the way to my stomach. It was the most heavenly sensation in the world.
I drained the canteen, splashing the last bit in my face to rinse off some of the profuse sweat that clung to every inch of my skin. I grunted in a way of thanks, still too breathless to form complete sentences.
"We have to move on." The furball proclaimed, standing up with a stretch, bottle brush tail fluffed.
I glared at him angrily, croaking out a monotone "What."
"Queen Meghan needs a longer break, Grimalkin. She can't even stand." Tertius came to my defense. I nodded in fervent agreement.
"Every second counts. If you cannot walk, human, then the general will have to carry you."
I groaned, "But I thought-" wheeze, "...you said we lost them."
"I said for now." He corrected, "They won't stop looking for quite some time, and we have to get to a trod to lose them for certain. Get her up."
Tertius reluctantly obeys, helping me to stand on legs as unsteady as a newborn colt's. By sheer willpower, I forced one foot in front of the other, clutching Tertius' forearm for support.
"Now, First General," Came Grimalkins's disembodied voice as he vanished from view. "This may be the only time to inform the human of the situation. She has to know, otherwise, she will be quite useless to us."
Tertius visibly paled, his steps stuttering to a halt and I with him since he was the only thing that kept me standing. But Grimalkin was quick to reprimand him. "But do keep moving. For the hundredth time, we don't have a second to lose."
The knight jerked back into action, his pace faster than before. I lurched with him. "What is he talking about?"
"Queen Meghan…" His jaw clenched, like the words that pushed against his lips tasted foul. He pushed his hood back, running his hand through his hair. "I…don't know where to start."
"Well, if time is of the essence, tell me the most important thing first." I said patiently.
He inhaled deeply, "I lied to you."
"What." I say flatly, disbelieving. This was Tertius, stoic and honorable, braving the Unseelie court to rescue me. He would never do such a thing.
"You are part human and can lie. Remember how I told you that I have human genes? I can lie as well."
"What did you lie to me about?" I whisper, unable to grasp the full meaning of his words. Even if he did tell a mistruth, it couldn't be that bad, right? He never struck me as the manipulative-scheming type. My knight would never do such a thing.
"About a lot of things." He confessed, "Most of those victims of Machina's never existed, or I twisted their stories. Like Bucephalus. He was never thrown into the chasm on Machina's orders, he fell in there by accident. I lied to you so that would believe the king to be evil."
I stopped in my tracks, forcing him to reel around and look at me. It felt like his words had physically stabbed right through my back and into my heart."You…" My mouth hung agape, unable to voice the overwhelming jumble of thoughts that erupted in my head. Tertius...betrayed me? The one person I considered my ally in the Iron Realm...was not my friend. He was my other puppeteer, the one that wore an innocent face as he slid underneath my skin like sweet poison, controlling my actions.
"You...you used me." I hissed, disbelief burning away into a terrible, soul-crushing realization. "You…you turned me on Machina. And I killed him. He was innocent and now he is dead all because of you?!" By now I was shouting, unable to contain myself. Red tinted my vision, and I shook uncontrollably. I thought I knew anger before, but I was wrong. A fury I had never known scorched down my veins, all aimed at Tertius like a laser. I once thought of him as a friend, and possibly more. My once beloved general had morphed into my most hated enemy before my very eyes. I had been so focused on hating Machina, I had been completely blind to Tertius' vile plans. It was too much to bear.
"Queen-"
"Don't you DARE call me that." I screech. Something snapped. The overwhelming fury consumed me, and I slapped him as hard as I could across the face. He reeled back, stunned. The general clutched his cheek, eyes wide. "Do you have any fucking idea what you did to me?!" I scream, looming over his cringing figure. "The nightmares I've been having, the guilt that's been eating me alive?!" I shove him away, and he staggered back,"All thanks to your fucking manipulative game. How could you do that to me? I trusted you." The last words came out as a choked gasp, tears of rage and hurt pressing behind my eyes.
He reached out, but I slapped his hand away, stepping back with a vicious shake of my head. "Get away from me."
His face crumpled, his mouth opening to speak once more, "But-"
I cut him off. "You know what? Just leave. I don't want anything to do with you anymore, I don't want to see your face ever again or hear another ugly lie from your mouth. You're worse than the winter prince. At least he can only speak the truth."
"General, you are terrible at this." Grim leapt on top of a stump, tail fluffed in exasperation.
I glared at him. "Why the hell are you helping this traitor?" I jabbed my finger accusingly at the calm feline, " Did you know what he was doing to me?" Another terrible epiphany began to dawn on me. Of course Grim would know, he was the one who told Tertius to spill the beans. If Grim has turned on me as well, I don't know what I would-
"Do be quiet human. Let me explain since the first general can't use his words properly and you wont let him finish. The general lied to you under the orders of Machina himself." I stared at him, uncomprehending. "Yes, Machina wanted you to kill him, but that is a story to be told when we have more time. Now please, follow me and do keep up."
He trotted away, not bothering to look over his shoulder, unaware of the fact that he turned my world upside down once more. I followed the cat in a daze, Tertius sullenly trailing behind as the cait sith continued talking. "Thanks to your poor aim, the Witchwood arrow was heavily damaged during the first assassination attempt, and served as a faulty conduit for your summer glamour in your final battle."
"Grim." I whisper hoarsely, "Where are you taking me?"
He gave an irritated huff at my interruption, ignoring my inquiry. "Since the arrow was damaged, it wasn't effective enough to kill him. Machina is still alive, if only for a little longer. He doesn't have much time, if he isn't already dead."
My breath left me. I felt light-headed, on the verge of fainting. "What…" I croaked.
I was Alice in Wonderland, falling heels overhead into a rabbit hole that defied all reason and logic. My weakened legs gave out, and I fell to my knees, shrapnel like pebbles biting into my kneecaps. There was a dull roar in my ears.
He's alive.
Machina.
Is.
Alive.
Grim's voice smoothly sliced into my daze, "Right now, I am taking you to a trod that leads to the mortal realm. From there, an abandoned warehouse where Machina is fighting for his life as we speak. Long story short, we need him alive, and you are the only one who can save him. Now general." Grim looked over my shoulder, "Get her up. Time is of the essence."
A/N: BA DUM DUM DUUUMMMMM. :D
Now you all know why Machina didn't turn into a tree during his "death" scene :D
I am so, so thankful to those who stuck it out with me and made it this far. Things are about to get interesting up in here…