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The Iron Warrior

Page 45

   


“Dammit.” I raked a hand through my hair, looking helplessly at the others. If I guessed wrong, and Kenzie paid the price... “No,” I told the witch. “I won’t do this. There must be something else you want.”
“There is nothing else that I want,” the witch said calmly. “I have all that I need. You have trespassed onto my land, and there is a price to pay regardless of the circumstances. I’ve given you your task, and if you want the Summer girl to leave this place, you know what must happen. That is the deal, and neither you nor your clever human friend will change my mind. Take it or leave it, Ethan Chase.”
Kenzie moved close and put a hand on my arm. “You can do this, Ethan,” she murmured, and I shook my head in protest. “You have to,” she went on. “It’s the only way to find Annwyl. We can’t turn back now.”
“I can’t,” I said through gritted teeth. “What if I guess wrong? I’m not going to put you in danger like that. I’m sorry, but I refuse to have a chicken for a girlfriend. That’s not going to happen.”
“Ethan.” Kenzie squeezed my wrist. “We’ve come all this way,” she whispered. “We have to get Annwyl and the amulet back to the wyldwood before the war starts. It’s the one chance we have at stopping Keirran and the Lady.” I took a breath to argue, but she overrode me. “Your family is depending on you. We have to bring him back.”
I slumped. “Dammit, Kenzie. You had to bring up Meghan, didn’t you?” But she was right, and we both knew it. Shooting a glance at the yard, at the dozen or so chickens I had to choose from, my insides churned. So many, and they all looked exactly the same. “Any tips for chicken wrangling in that animal trainer head of yours?” I asked desperately.
“Not really my area of expertise,” Kenzie replied, glancing into the yard. “But...all animals respond better to patience and slow movements. Try not to chase them around. If Annwyl is in there, if there’s any part of her left at all, maybe she’ll recognize you.”
“Boy,” the witch said, sounding impatient. “Time is wasting, and I have a kettle on the stove. If you are going to do this, get on with it.”
I squeezed Kenzie’s hand. “All right,” I muttered. “Wish me luck.” For both our sakes. Swallowing the dryness in my throat, I opened the gate and stepped into the yard.
Okay, this was probably the stupidest thing I’d ever agreed to do, and that included all of Keirran’s high jinks as we’d trailed him to one end of the Nevernever and back. Yeah, following Keirran had led to my death, but at least no one had ended up as a chicken.
The flock eyed my approach from different corners of the yard, beady eyes glassy and blank as they milled around with nervous clucks. None of them looked like they recognized me.
I took a few steps toward them. They skittered away. I took another few, to the same result—fearful squawking as they ran behind logs and bales of straw. They wouldn’t let me near them.
We were so screwed.
Behind me, the witch let out a cackle. “Having trouble, boy?” she called, and I resisted the urge to flip her off. “Try cornering them between the haystacks and the water barrel. I’m usually able to trap a couple of them there.”
“Right,” I muttered, and took a step toward the water barrel, where a trio of hens huddled. They tensed, ready to run, and I stopped.
Wait a second. This is exactly what she wants me to do—chase them around like an idiot until they’re scared and exhausted and too terrified to come near me. What had Kenzie told me a few minutes ago? Animals respond better to patience and slow movements. I couldn’t stomp after chickens like a giant, hoping to gain their trust. Even if Annwyl’s scrambled chicken brain sort of recognized me, chasing them around would just freak her out.
I stared at the three birds in the corner. Two of them tensed, ready to run, but one hen peeked out at me with wary eyes, as if it was unsure whether to flee or not. If I made any motion toward her at all, she would.
Okay, then. Annwyl, wherever you are, I hope there’s enough of you still in there to remember me.
Very slowly, I sat down, crossing my legs in the damp, cold grass. The chickens watched from the edges of the yard, a few curious, but most of them still wary. I shot a quick glance at the spot the one hen had been, but she was no longer there.
God, I hope this works, I thought, and closed my eyes.
For a few minutes, I remained absolutely motionless, counting my breaths, listening to the shuffle of chicken feet and the warbled clucks around me. I heard Razor buzz something to Kenzie, who shushed him immediately. Thankfully, the witch didn’t move, either. It would’ve sucked a lot if she did something to freak the chickens out, though now that I thought about it, there was nothing in the agreement that said she couldn’t interfere. I was relieved that she was letting me do this in peace, but I could still feel her gaze burning the back of my neck.
Hope she doesn’t turn Kenzie into a chicken for the hell of it, I thought, just as there was a tap on my shoe.
Cautiously, I opened my eyes. A small red hen stood at the toe of my boot, cocking its head at me. I couldn’t tell if it was the same chicken from before or not, but it was the only one that had ventured close. For a second, I stared at it as my heart started to pound. What if this wasn’t the right bird? What if I guessed wrong?
Come on, Ethan. You’re going to have to choose sometime.
The hen blinked, peering up at my face, as I gave it a hopeful smile.
“Hey, Annwyl,” I whispered.
The second the words left my mouth, the chicken started to glow. It grew brighter and brighter, its features melting into the light, until I had to look away. When the glow faded and I was able to turn back, there was no longer a chicken standing there.
Instead, a slight, beautiful fey girl sat next to me in the grass, looking bewildered. Wavy chestnut hair tumbled down her back and shoulders. Her ears were long and pointed, and her huge green eyes stared at me in a daze.
“Ethan...Chase?” Annwyl whispered, as the breath left my lungs in a rush and I nearly collapsed in relief. “Why are you here? I thought...I heard you had died.”
I managed a tiny smirk. “Yeah, well, rumors of my death were highly exaggerated.”
She looked confused, but suddenly her hand went to her neck. “The amulet,” she gasped. “It’s gone!” I started to answer, but her eyes shifted, anger crossing her normally passive face. “Where is it?” she demanded. “Ethan Chase, what have you done?”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ANNWYL’S QUEST
Aw, crap. Now what?
Annwyl leaped to her feet, looking frantic, and I scrambled upright, as well. “Where is the amulet?” she demanded again, staring at me. “Is it destroyed? Is it lost? Where is it, Ethan Chase?”
“Easy.” I held up my hands, taking a step back. Annwyl’s eyes glowed a scary green, and the grass around her feet started to writhe and coil. Chickens scattered to all corners of the yard, squawking in terror, as the previously docile Summer fey snapped and pulsed with the energy of a storm.
“Annwyl, calm down,” I said, raising my voice to be heard over the chickens and the hissing of plants. What the hell was happening? I’d never seen Annwyl like this. “I don’t have it, okay? We thought it was with you.”