Summer's Crossing
Page 3I felt a flash of cold behind me and winced. Ice-boy’s temper had finally snapped. From the corner of my eye, I saw the prince step forward, pushing his arm farther into the wolf’s jaws. There was another flash, and the hedge wolf stiffened as icicles burst out of its muzzle, punching through its jaws like giant needles. Ash grabbed the wolf’s muzzle with his free hand and yanked it down with a loud crack, snapping its jaw like a frozen twig. The wolf yelped, curled in on itself and stopped moving.
I scowled at the wolf above me, holding those nasty teeth away from my face. “Ugh, my friend, you really need a breath mint,” I told him, sending a pulse of glamour into the brambly monster above me. “Let’s see what we can do about that doggie breath.”
Vines grew from the wolf’s thorny head, slithering over its face. They wrapped around its jaws like a muzzle, clamping them shut, and the wolf’s eyes got huge and round. Whimpering pathetically, it leaped away, clawing at its face, and ran off, disappearing into the woods.
Dusting myself off, I climbed to my feet. “Well, that was…interesting,” I ventured, deliberately ignoring Ash’s glare. His sleeve was tattered, and blood smeared his forearm up to his elbow. “I don’t remember hedge wolves ever doing that before.”
“If I didn’t need you to get into Summer…”
“Oh, but you do,” I reminded him, grinning. “Let’s not forget that, huh, ice-boy?” His expression darkened even more, but he turned away.
“Come on,” Ash said, his voice even colder than normal. “We don’t have time for your idiocy now.”
“That’s what I like about you Winter fey…you’re all such scintillating wits, such clever purveyors of words, such wise and frolicsome—”
I ducked as a pinecone zipped by my head with enough force to have done more than muss my hair. A chuckle escaped me. “Always good to know you care, ice-boy.” With a quick laugh I sprinted ahead, hoping to get out of range of any colder—and sharper—missiles that might be coming my way.
After the fiasco with the wolves, we separated for a bit, with the frosty prince vanishing into the surrounding woods to clean and bind his arm while I made camp. We couldn’t wait for a later time. It was never a good idea to tromp through the wyldwood bleeding; you’d attract everything—and I mean everything—in the area. Besides, night was falling, and if we ventured any farther, we’d cross into the Fen Marches. Barghests and bog wraiths roamed those swamps at night, looking for victims, and though I wouldn’t mind the challenge of crossing the swamps without being eaten or drowned, we had a mission to complete.
I snorted, rolling my eyes. Unless the stubborn idiot decided to strike out on his own again. Hopefully he’d learned his lesson the last time he’d tried something like that.
A weight settled in my gut. I hadn’t meant to think of that night, but now that I had, there was no use trying to forget. I gazed into the fire, letting my eyes unfocus, and the memories came creeping back.
It was an evening much like this one, in a place surrounded by glowing flowers, except it was Winter’s territory and not the wyldwood. They hadn’t seen me, hadn’t known I was awake, but I had watched Ash and Meghan that night; listened as he told her he was leaving, alone, to retrieve the Scepter of the Seasons. I’d listened as he told her to go home, back to the mortal world, to forget him. I’d watched both their faces, Meghan’s streaked with tears as she tried to be brave; Ash’s torment carefully sealed away. I’d said nothing, done nothing, as he’d broken her heart, turned away and walked out of her life.
And…I’d been glad.
I scrubbed a hand over my face, disgusted with myself. I’d been glad, because Ash had crushed my princess’s heart, because he was gone, and perhaps I could finally get her to look at me. I had been too patient, biding my time, waiting for the day the princess would open her eyes and see her faithful Puck as something more than a goofy friend. I would be more than her guardian and champion and the jester who made her laugh. I would be her everything, if I could.
With a sigh, I yanked the mushrooms from the fire and bit into them aggressively. After Ash had left, I’d tried to mend my princess’s shattered heart, the one the stone-cold ice-prince had broken so efficiently. And for one blissful moment, I’d thought I had a chance. The memory of Meghan’s kiss was seared into my brain, and I would never forget that day, one of the happiest moments of my life. But, against all odds, Meghan and Ash had found their way back to each other, defying every court of Faery to be together, and I was left behind. In the end, I’d lost her.
So why the hell am I still here?
“Goodfellow.”I jerked up. The deep voice wasn’t Ash’s; it was far too low and powerful to belong to the frosty ice-prince. I knew it instantly; it was a voice that could command entire forests and woodlands, a voice that I had obeyed long before I ever met the mercurial prince of Winter.
“Hello, Robin,” Oberon murmured, unsmiling. “I fear we must have a little talk.”
Aw, crap.
I stood warily, careless grin firmly in place, lacing my hands behind my head. Anyone else would’ve bowed or knelt or curtsied or at least nodded respectfully, but I’d known the Seelie King for such a long time, such formalities between us were completely useless. If I made any show of respect, Oberon would know something was up. As well as I knew him, the Summer King knew me just as well.
“Why, Oberon.” I nodded, still smiling. “What are you doing here?” I eyed his armor and the great bow across his back. “Out for a little hunt? All by yourself? And you didn’t invite me along? I’m hurt.”
“Dispense with the foolishness, Robin.” The Seelie King waved a hand, and thunder rumbled in the distance. Between us, the campfire flared like it wanted to jump out of the pit, and the plants surrounding us went nuts, writhing and twisting and dancing like they were ecstatic to see him. Such was the immense power of the Summer King. “We both know why I am here, I think. Where is the Unseelie prince?”
“Prince?” I frowned, though my heart started racing under my shirt. How had Oberon learned about Ash so quickly? We weren’t even in Arcadia yet. “Why would you think I know anything about the Unseelie prince?” I asked, adopting my best innocent expression. “We’re supposed to be enemies. In case you haven’t heard, he made this teensy little oath to kill me someday.”
None of that was a lie. Live as long as I have, and you become an expert at “dancing around the truth,” as some put it. Unfortunately Oberon was no spring chicken, either.
“Robin.” He gave me a patient look. “I know. I know what you are planning to do. Do you think I have no inkling of what goes on in my own court? Titania is completely enamored of her new plaything. I know she stole it from Leanansidhe—she makes no secret of where she got it. I was wondering how Leanansidhe would react. Then I hear word of you and the Winter prince entering the wyldwood, heading for Arcadia. Do not think me a fool, Goodfellow. I know you plan to take Leanansidhe’s toy back to her.
“However,” he went on, before I could think of a new plan, one that would get me out of this without being turned into a bird or a rat for who knew how long, “you may relax, Robin. I am not here to stop you.”
“My lady wife has become quite distracted of late,” the Seelie lord continued. “She dotes on her new toy and pays no attention to her court, her subjects, or her king. I dislike it.”
Aha. And the truth came out. Oberon had always been the jealous type. Anything that took Titania’s interest off him was cause for huge arguments between the two Seelie rulers. The last time something like this had happened, Titania had refused to give up a little Indian changeling, and Oberon had ordered me to put a love potion in her eyes so she would forget all about it.
We all know how that turned out.
I sighed, knowing where this was going. “Let me guess,” I said. “You’re going to be ‘conveniently absent’ from the Summer Court for a while. During which time, Titania’s newest toy will mysteriously disappear, and you will have no knowledge of where it could have gotten to.”
“I am going hunting with my knights and hounds,” the Erlking replied with great dignity. “I care not what Titania does while I am away. However…” He stepped closer, filling the small grotto with his presence. His tall shadow loomed over me as he met my gaze. “I want you to think on something as well, Robin. Remember these words, when you go into Arcadia with your plan, whatever it is.”
Oberon leaned in, his voice low and dark, whispering to me over the fire. “If your companion was suddenly…gone,” he murmured, and a cold hand grabbed my stomach. “If the Winter prince were no longer here, how long do you think it would be before Meghan Chase came to you?”
I felt the breath whoosh out of me. I stared at Oberon, aghast. He gazed back calmly, unmovable as an oak. “What…are you…?” I couldn’t even finish the thought. “Why would you think…?”
“I know you love her,” Oberon went on, undeterred. “My daughter. I know your feelings for Meghan Chase, Robin. And I am here to tell you that I approve. I would rather see the two of you together, than her with the son of my ancient enemy.” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">