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The Iron Warrior

Page 23

   


“No normal human will be able to stand against that barrage of magic,” the Winter faery said, as my insides shriveled a bit. I’d seen Keirran truly lose control only once, when he attacked Titania, the Summer Queen. And though the Seelie monarch was clearly stronger, especially in her own court, the magical throw down between the Iron Prince and the Summer Queen had ripped the ground apart and shredded the forest around us. “However,” the Winter faery continued, “though we are unable to do anything about his Iron glamour, we can make it so that the magic of Summer and Winter will not be able to affect you.”
I straightened. “What? Really?”
It nodded. “It can only be granted to mortals, and only if the Nevernever itself chooses to bestow the gift. It is not something we can grant on our own. But all magic comes from Faery. Humans generate glamour, but it is through the Nevernever that we are able to use our power. Faery sustains us, and in the same way, Faery can render a mortal completely invisible to glamour. Magic will pass right by them, or slide around them without touching, because they are no longer ‘there.’ They are an empty space, a hole, where glamour simply cannot exist.”
“This does come with a price,” the dryad added, as I stared at them, imagining what could’ve happened if I’d had this knowledge sooner. What would my life have been like if I was completely invisible to faery magic? “If we complete this ritual and the Nevernever grants you immunity to magic, you will ignore all glamour. Including beneficial effects, like healing, or invisibility. Nor will it stop physical harm in any way. This will not save you from an arrow to the chest, or from something’s jaws biting your head off.”
“But it will stop magical attacks,” I repeated, just to be sure. “Say, like a lightning bolt. Or a bunch of ice daggers.”
“Yes.” The Winter faery nodded again. “Anything that is produced by the glamour of Summer or Winter will slide right off you. The Iron Realm, however, and its poisoned magic, is beyond our understanding. Immunity to Summer and Winter magic will have to be enough.”
“Can you give this ability to someone else? Like Kenzie?”
“We do not yet know if we can grant it to you,” the dryad said, narrowing her eyes. “Like we said before, this ability does not come from us, but from Faery itself. You are part of the prophecy, and you are the Iron Queen’s kin. The Nevernever knows you. It does not know her.”
“If I say yes, how long is this going to take?”
“Not long,” the Winter faery said. “But we must begin the ritual soon, while the moon is high overhead. So, the question remains, Ethan Chase. Are you willing? Is this something you wish to do?”
I hesitated, thinking. Not long ago, I would’ve jumped at the chance. Being immune to magic and glamour and all the nasty spells the fey could throw at me? Seemed like a no-brainer. But after I’d met Keirran, magic had saved my life and Kenzie’s life, on more than one occasion. It had gotten me out of trouble, kept me from freezing to death, and allowed us to avoid some very unpleasant circumstances. I had just gotten to a point where I would, begrudgingly, admit that not all fey magic was pure evil and was actually very helpful in some situations. Glamour itself wasn’t the problem; it was really just a tool. An extremely dangerous tool where you had to be on guard the whole time or risk it blowing up in your face, but the real threat came from the creature using it, not the magic itself. To never experience it again...was I ready for that?
I sighed. Again, this wasn’t about me. As much as I hated to admit it, I knew the dryad was right. I was no match for Keirran if he decided to use magic against me. I wasn’t even certain I could defend myself from his sword; we’d “fought” once before, and were pretty evenly matched when it came to swordplay. But if Keirran used any of that power I’d seen only glimpses of in the past, I’d be blown apart with a thought.
“Yeah,” I answered, slumping. “I’m willing. I want to do this. What do you need from me?”
The ring of faeries closed in, gliding across the grove with a rustling of leaves and branches. “Not much,” the dryad whispered, as I tensed and forced my hands to remain still, off my swords. “Only stand in the middle of the circle as we commune with the Nevernever. If it chooses to bestow the gift, you need only spill a few drops of your blood to the ground to accept. There is nothing you can do beyond that. This decision is Faery’s alone. Are you ready, Ethan Chase?”
“Yes.”
“Then we will begin.”
The faeries closed their eyes, and each one, both Summer and Winter, took the hand of its neighbor, forming a ring around me. Crossing my arms, I stood uncomfortably in the center as they began to sway, moving like saplings in a strong wind. The forest around us was silent and still, but I suddenly felt like something was approaching, coming closer through the trees, from the very ground itself. Something...huge.
The dryad I’d been speaking to opened its eyes, its stark black gaze fixed on me. “It accepts,” she whispered in a low, inhuman voice, and a chill raced up my spine. Though from terror or excitement, I couldn’t tell. “Spill your blood onto the ground, Ethan Chase,” the faery went on, holding my gaze as the others continued to sway, “and the ritual will be complete.”
I drew my sword, hesitated for half a breath, then sliced the edge across the meat of my thumb. Blood welled, pooling in my palm, before I tipped it over and let the liquid stream to the dirt.
A collective sigh seemed to go through the ring of fey as my blood hit the ground, and a gust of wind swirled around us, tossing leaves into a cyclone, whipping at my hair and clothes. The branches overhead rattled, trees bouncing up and down, as if the entire forest was coming alive.
The land under my feet gave a violent lurch, like a giant drawing in a deep breath. I lost my footing and dropped to my knees, the earth cold beneath my palms, and felt something sucking at me, like it was trying to pull me under. I gasped and tried to fight it, but it was like trying to drag a car out of a hole with your bare hands. My hands disappeared into the earth, held in place by the massive force, and I couldn’t budge an inch as something, whatever it was, continued to pull me down. My legs vanished into the dirt, and the ground continued to slide up my arms, past my elbows, toward my shoulders and head.
Trying not to panic, I looked up at the circle and saw they were still swaying in the same place, fingers interlaced, eyes closed, as I continued to be sucked into the earth.
“Hey!” I yelled, looking at the dryad who’d spoken to me earlier. Her eyes were shut again, and she didn’t stop swaying. “Sort of being swallowed whole by the Nevernever, here! Is this a normal part of the ritual, or should I just start panicking about now?”
Of course, there was no answer. I had now sunk in nearly to my shoulders, with no signs of slowing down. I thrashed again, trying to free my arms at least, to grab my swords, futile as that was, but I couldn’t move a finger. Cold earth tickled my neck and slipped down the collar of my shirt, and my stomach writhed in fear. Dammit, why do faeries never tell you all the details? I thought, furious with myself for agreeing to this. Why am I even surprised?
Dirt pressed against my jaw, oozing up my cheekbones. Panting, I craned my head back, feeling it cover my ears, muffling all sound. As it inched up my face, I took several deep, final breaths and closed my eyes as the force finally dragged me under, covering my head and plunging everything into darkness.