"No!" Pulling myself upright, I glared at the mop, wiping sweat from my eyes. "I'm going to get this, dammit." Ignoring my roiling stomach, the sweat that ran into my eyes, I took another deep breath and concentrated on the glamour swirling around the mop. The wood was alive, pulsing with energy, just waiting for the push that would make it explode with life.

The wooden pole trembled. Nausea crawled up my stomach. I bit my lip, welcoming the pain. And suddenly, roses burst into bloom along the handle, red and white and pink and orange, a riot of color among the leaves and thorns. As quickly as they had bloomed, the petals shriveled and fell off, littering the ground around the mop handle, bare and naked once more. But it was a clear victory, and I whooped in triumph-right before I collapsed.

Ash caught me, kneeling in the gra.s.s. How he knew exactly where to be whenever I fell was mystifying. "There," I panted, struggling upright, bracing myself against his arms. "That wasn't so hard. I think I'm getting the hang of this. Let's do it again, Puck."

Puck raised an eyebrow. "Uh, let's not, princess. Judging by the glare your boyfriend is shooting me, I'd say our lesson is officially over." He yawned and stood, stretching his long limbs. "Besides, I was about to die of boredom. Watching flowers bloom isn't exactly riveting." He glanced at us, at Ash's arms around me, and sneered. "See you tomorrow, lovebirds."

He hopped the stream and vanished into the woods without looking back. I sighed and struggled to my feet, leaning on Ash for balance.

"You all right?" he asked, steadying me as the last of the nausea faded.

Anger flared. No, I wasn't all right. I was a freaking faery who couldn't use glamour! Not without fainting, throwing up, or getting so dizzy I was practically useless. I was allergic to myself! How pathetic was that?

Peevishly, I turned and kicked the mop handle, sending the pole clattering into the bushes. The wrath of the brownies would be swift and terrible, but at that moment I didn't care. What good was having Iron glamour if all it did was make me sick? At this point, I was ready to give give the false king his stupid Iron magic, for all the good it did me. the false king his stupid Iron magic, for all the good it did me.

Ash raised an eyebrow at my show of temper but didn't say anything beyond, "Let's go inside." A little embarra.s.sed, I followed him across the clearing, over the stream and up the stairs to the cabin, where Grimalkin lay on the railing in the sun and ignored me when I waved.

The cabin was strangely quiet as we walked in, the piano empty and still. I looked around and saw Paul sitting at the kitchen table, bent over a mess of scattered papers, pen scribbling furiously. I hoped he hadn't fallen into creative insanity. But he glanced up, gave me a brief, noncrazy smile, and hunched over the paperwork once more. So today was one of his saner days; at least that was something.

Groaning, I collapsed to the couch, my fingers numb and tingly with leftover glamour. "What's wrong with me, Ash?" I sighed, rubbing my tired eyes. "Why does everything have to be so hard? I can't even be a normal half-faery."

Ash knelt and tugged my hands down, pressing my fingers to his lips. "You were never normal, Meghan." He smiled, and my fingers went tingly for an entirely different reason. "If you were, I wouldn't be here now."

I freed my fingers and stroked his cheek, running my thumb over the smooth, pale skin. For a moment, he closed his eyes and leaned into my hand before brushing a kiss to my palm and standing up. "I'm going to find Puck," he announced. "There must be something we're missing, something we're overlooking. There has to be an easier way."

"Well, if you find it, that would be great. I'm sick of being...sick...every time I make a flower grow." I tried for a grateful smile, but think I just grimaced at him. Ash placed a hand on my shoulder, squeezed gently, and left the room.

Sighing, I wandered over to the kitchen table, curious to see what Dad was working on so vigorously. He didn't look up this time, so I perched on the edge beside him. The table was covered with sheets of paper, scribbled with lines and black dots. Looking closer, I saw they were hand-drawn sheet music.

"Hey, Dad." I spoke softly, not wanting to distract or startle him. "What are you doing?"

"Composing a song," he replied, glancing at me briefly and smiling. "It just hit me this morning, and I knew I had to write it down quickly before I lost it. I used to write songs all the time for...for your mother."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I watched the pencil move, scribbling dots along five simple black lines. It didn't look like music to me, but Dad would stop and close his eyes, swaying the pencil to an invisible tune, before adding more dots to the lines.

My vision went fuzzy for a moment, and the dots seemed to move on the paper. For just a second, the entire song shimmered with glamour. The strict, straight lines gleamed like metal wires, while the various notes, once black and solid, sparkled like drops of water held up to light. Startled, I blinked, and the scribbles became normal again.

"Weird," I muttered.

"What's weird?" Paul asked, looking up.

"Um." Quickly, I searched for a safer topic. Dad didn't have a high regard for glamour, seeing it as nothing more than faery tricks and deception. With everything he'd gone through, I couldn't blame him. "Um," I said again. "I was just wondering...what all those little dots and lines are for. I mean, it doesn't look like music to me."

Paul smiled, eager to talk about his favorite subject, and pulled a full sheet of paper from a stack. "They're measures," he explained, placing the sheet between us. "See these lines? Each line represents a musical pitch. Every note on a scale is represented by its position on the line or in the s.p.a.ces between. The higher the note is on the lines, the higher the pitch. Follow me so far?"

"Ummm..."

"Now, notice the different dots, or notes," Dad went on, as if I understood anything he just said. "An open dot plays longer than a closed dot. The little stems and flags you see cut the time in half, and in half again. The appearance of the notes tells the player how long to hold them, and what note to play. Everything is measured by time, pitch, and scale, written in perfect harmony. One note or measure in the wrong place will throw off the entire song."

"Sounds very complicated," I offered, trying to keep up with his explanation.

"It can be. Music and math have always been tied closely together. It's all about formulas and fractions and such." Paul stood abruptly with the sheet of music and walked over to the piano. I trailed behind him and perched on the couch. "But then, you put it all together, and it sounds like this. this."

And he played a song so beautiful it caught in my throat, making me want to smile and laugh and cry all at the same time. I'd heard his music before, but this was different, as if he'd put his entire heart and soul into it, and it had grown a life of its own. Glamour flared and swirled around him, a vortex of the most gorgeous colors I'd ever seen. No wonder the fey were attracted to talented mortals. No wonder Leanansidhe had been so reluctant to let him go.

The piece was short and ended abruptly, as if Paul just ran out of notes. "Well, it's not finished yet," he murmured, lowering his hands, "but you get the idea."

"What's it called?" I whispered, the echo of the song still ebbing through me. Paul smiled.

"Memories of Meghan."

Before I could say anything, the door banged open and Ash stepped through with Puck close behind him. I jumped up as Ash crossed the room, his face tight and severe, and Puck stood in front of the door with his arms crossed, glaring out the window.

"What's going on?" I asked as Ash drew close, looking like he wanted to sweep me up and rush out the door. I glanced at my dad to see how this was affecting him, relieved to see he looked wary and alarmed but not crazy. Ash took my arm and drew me away.

"The Seelie and Unseelie Courts," he muttered, low enough that my father couldn't hear. "They're here, and they're looking for you."

CHAPTER NINE.

A KNIGHT'S VOW I blinked at Ash, and my stomach squirmed weirdly, both in excitement and fear. "Both of them?" I whispered, glancing at my dad, who had wandered back to the table and was hunched over his music again. He tended to ignore the faeries whenever they were in the room, never speaking to them, barely looking their way, and the boys were content to return the favor. It made for some awkward evenings, but I think Paul was terrified that if he drew their attention, he would go mad once more.

Ash shrugged. "They wouldn't talk to me or Puck, except to say that Leanansidhe already gave them permission to come here. They want to speak with you. They're in the clearing now."

I walked to the window and peered out. At the edge of the trees, I could just make out a pair of sidhe knights each holding a banner, one green and gold and emblazoned with the head of a magnificent stag, the other black with a white, th.o.r.n.y rose in the center.

"The emissary said he had a message specifically for you, princess," Puck said, leaning against the door with his arms crossed. "Said it was from Oberon himself."

"Oberon." The last time I saw my biological father, he had banished me to the mortal realm after Mab had done the same to Ash. I thought we had severed all ties; he'd made that quite clear when we parted, that I was on my own and Faery would never welcome me again. What did the King of the Summer Court want with me now?

Only one way to find out. "Dad," I called, turning toward the table, "I'm leaving now, but I'll be right back. Don't leave the house, okay?"

He waved at me without looking up, and I sighed. At least Paul would be too busy to worry about the unexpected party in the meadow. "All right," I muttered, walking toward the door, which Puck opened for me. "Let's get this over with."

We crossed the stream, where Grimalkin was grooming himself on a flat rock, unconcerned with the arrival of the courts, and headed toward the far side of the meadow. It was late afternoon, and fireflies winked over the gra.s.s. Ash and Puck walked beside me, protective auras glowing strong, and any fear I had vanished instantly. We had been through so much, the three of us. What was left, that we couldn't face together?

The two knights bowed as we approached. I caught a glimmer of surprise from both Ash and Puck, amazement that two warriors from opposite courts could be in the presence of the other without fighting. I found it amusingly ironic.

Between the knights, almost hidden in the tall gra.s.s, a potato-faced gnome stepped forward and bent forward at the waist. "Meghan Chase," he greeted in a surprisingly deep voice, stiff and formal like a butler. "Your father, Lord Oberon, sends his greetings."

I felt a flicker of annoyance. Oberon had no right to claim me as his daughter. Not after disowning me in front of the entire freaking court. Crossing my arms, I glared down at the gnome. "You wanted to see me. Here I am. What does Oberon want now?"

The gnome blinked. The knights exchanged a glance. Puck and Ash stood tall beside me, silent and protective. Even though I wasn't looking at them, I could sense Puck's gleeful amus.e.m.e.nt.

The gnome cleared his throat. "Ahem. Well, as you know, princess, your father is at war with the Iron Kingdom. For the first time in centuries, we have created a mutual alliance with Queen Mab and the Winter Court." His gaze flicked to Ash before focusing on me again. "An army of Iron fey crouches at our doorstep, eager to taint our land and kill everyone in it. The situation has become most dire."

"I know that. In fact, I think I was the one to first tell Oberon about it. Right before he exiled me." I held the gnome's gaze, trying to keep the bitterness from my voice. "I warned Oberon about the Iron King ages ago, him and Mab both. They didn't listen to me. Why are you telling me this now?"

The gnome sighed and, for a moment, lost his formal tone. "Because, princess, the courts cannot touch him. The Iron King hides deep within his poisonous realm, and the forces of Summer and Winter cannot penetrate far enough to strike at him. We are losing ground, soldiers, and resources, and the Iron fey continue to advance on both courts. The Nevernever is dying faster than ever, and soon there will be no safe place for us to go."

He cleared his throat again, looking embarra.s.sed, and became proper once more. "Because of this, King Oberon and Queen Mab are prepared to offer you a deal, Meghan Chase." He reached into his bag and drew forth a scroll tied with a green ribbon, unrolling it with a flourish.

"Here we go," muttered Puck.

The gnome frowned at him, then turned to the scroll and announced in a grand, important voice, "Meghan Chase, by order of King Oberon and Queen Mab, the courts are willing to lift your exile, as well as the exiles of Prince Ash and Robin Goodfellow, abolishing all crimes and rendering full pardons."

Puck drew in a sharp breath. Ash stood silently; no expression showed on his face, but I caught the briefest flicker of hope, of longing. They wanted to go home. They missed Faery, and who could blame them? They belonged there, not in the mortal world, with its vast skepticism and disbelief in anything but science. Small wonder the Iron fey were taking over the world; so few people believed in magic anymore.

But, because I knew faery bargains never came without a price, I kept my expression blank and asked, "In return for what?"

"In return..." The gnome dropped his hands, averting his eyes. "For journeying into the Iron Realm and eliminating its king."

I nodded slowly, suddenly very tired. "That's what I thought."

Ash moved closer, drawing wary looks from the gnome and the two guards. "By herself?" he said quietly, masking the anger beneath. "Oberon isn't offering any help? Seems a lot to ask, if his own armies can't get through."

"King Oberon believes that a single person could move unseen through the Iron Realm," the gnome replied, "and thus have a better chance of finding the Iron King. Both Oberon and Mab agree that the Summer princess is the best choice-she is immune to iron's effects, she has been there before, and she has already taken down one Iron King."

"I had help then," I muttered, feeling a tightness spreading through my stomach. Memories rose up, bleak and terrifying, and despite myself, my hands started to shake. I remembered the awful wasteland of the Iron Kingdom: the blasted desert, the acid, flesh-eating rain, the imposing black tower, rising into the sky. I remembered killing Machina, driving an arrow through his chest, as the whole tower crumbled into shrapnel. And I remembered Ash, his body cold and lifeless in my arms, and clenched my fists so hard that my nails dug into my palms.

"I'm not ready," I said, looking to Ash and Puck for rea.s.surance. "I can't go back there yet. I still have to learn to fight and to use glamour, and...and what about my dad? He can't stay here by himself."

The gnome blinked, looking confused, but Puck spoke up before he could say anything. "She'll need some time to think about it," he said, stepping forward with a disarming grin. "I a.s.sume Oberon doesn't need an answer right this very second, does he?"

The gnome regarded him gravely, yet spoke to me. "He did say time was of the essence, your highness. The longer you remain here, the farther the corruption spreads, and the stronger the Iron King becomes. Lord Oberon cannot wait. We will return at dawn for your answer." He bowed, and the knights stepped back, preparing to leave. "This is a onetime offer, highness," the gnome cautioned. "If you choose not to accept Oberon's offer and return to the Nevernever with us, none of you will ever see it again." He rolled up the paper with a flourish, and disappeared into the woods with the guards.

I walked back to the cabin in a daze, sinking onto the couch. Dad wasn't in the room, and the brownies hadn't started dinner yet, so we were alone. "I'm not ready," I said again, as Puck perched on the other arm and Ash stood, watching me gravely. "I barely took down the first Iron King, and that was with the Witchwood arrow. I don't have anything like that now."

"True," came Grimalkin's voice beside my head, making me jump. The cat blinked at my glare and settled comfortably onto the back cushions. "But that was specifically for Machina. You do not know if that is needed for the false king."

"It doesn't matter," I said. "I don't have anything this time. I still can't use glamour well, I don't know how I'll do in a fight and-" I paused, nearly whispering the words "-I can't do it alone."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Puck stood and joined Ash in glaring at me. "What are you talking about, doing it alone? You know we're going to be right there with you, princess."

I shook my head. "Ash nearly died last time. The Iron Kingdom is deadly to fey, that's why Oberon and Mab can't beat it. I can't lose you both. If I do this, I have to do it alone."

I felt Ash's gaze sharpen, cutting into me. His fury was a cold, icy color, and it p.r.i.c.ked my skin even as I felt my own anger rise up to meet it. He should know. Out of everyone, Ash knew how lethal the Iron Kingdom was to normal fey. What right did he have to be angry? I was the one who had to go into the Iron Kingdom. There was no way I'd put either of them through that torture again. I'd refuse Oberon's so-called deal, if it came to that.

And yet, if I refused, Ash and Puck would be stuck with me in the mortal realm, forever. This was their chance to go home. I couldn't deny them that, even if it meant I had to journey into the blasted land of the Iron fey once more and face the false king by myself.

"You know that's not going to work, princess," Puck said, reading my thoughts. "If you think you can keep me or ice-boy from following you into the Iron Realm-"

"I don't want you there!" I burst out, finally looking up. He blinked at me in astonishment, though Ash continued to stare at me with ice-cold eyes. "Dammit, Puck, you didn't see the Iron Realm. You don't know what it's like. Ask Ash!" I continued, pointing at the Ice Prince, knowing I was pushing him dangerously and not caring. "Ask him how just breathing the air was killing him from the inside. Ask him how I felt, watching him get worse and worse and not being able to do anything."

"And yet, I'm still here." Ash's voice was like brittle frost, his eyes darkened to black. "And it seems my promise means nothing to you. Will you release me from it now, when it is convenient to do so?"

"Ash." I looked up at him, hating that he was angry, but needing him to understand. "I can't watch you suffer again, not like that. If you follow me into the Iron Kingdom again, you could die, and that would kill me, too. You can't ask me to do that."

"It..." Ash stopped, closed his eyes for a moment. "It wasn't your choice, Meghan," he continued in a forced, even voice. "I knew the risks when I made that deal, and I know what will happen if I follow you into the Iron Realm. I would go with you, regardless." His voice grew sharper. "But that is beside the point. I cannot cannot leave you now, unless you officially release me from my vow to stay." leave you now, unless you officially release me from my vow to stay."

Release him? Unmake a vow so he wasn't forced to follow me? "I didn't know you could do that," I murmured, feeling a brief regret and a little anger. "So, all that time in Machina's realm, I could have released you, and you wouldn't have had to help me?"

Ash hesitated, as if he didn't want to talk about it any longer, but Grimalkin spoke up from the back of the couch. "No, human," he purred. "That was a contract, not a promise. promise. You both agreed to something, and you both got something out of it. That is the way of most bargains." Ash looked down, running a hand through his hair as Grimalkin licked a front paw. "A vow is made willingly, is self-inflicted, and places no requirements upon the recipient. No expectations whatsoever." He sniffed and scrubbed the paw over his ears. "Leaving the one trapped, completely at the mercy of the other...unless they decide to release him, of course." You both agreed to something, and you both got something out of it. That is the way of most bargains." Ash looked down, running a hand through his hair as Grimalkin licked a front paw. "A vow is made willingly, is self-inflicted, and places no requirements upon the recipient. No expectations whatsoever." He sniffed and scrubbed the paw over his ears. "Leaving the one trapped, completely at the mercy of the other...unless they decide to release him, of course."

"So..." I glanced at Ash. "I could release you from your promise, and you'd no longer have to keep it, right?"

Ash looked stricken, but only for a heartbeat. Then the air around him turned frigid, and frost crept over the wooden floor slats. Without a word, he turned and left the room, gliding through the front door and vanishing into the night.

Puck let out an explosive breath. "Ouch. You really know how to tear a guy's heart out, don't you, princess?"

I stared at the front door, feeling my heart sink. "Why is he so angry?" I whispered. "I'm just trying to keep him alive. I don't want him following me because he's being forced forced to by some stupid vow." to by some stupid vow."

Puck winced. "That stupid stupid vow is the most serious declaration we can make, princess," he said, and the edge in his voice surprised me. "We don't make promises lightly, if ever. And incidentally, releasing a faery from a vow is the worst insult in the world. You're basically telling him you don't trust him anymore, that you believe he's incapable of carrying it out." vow is the most serious declaration we can make, princess," he said, and the edge in his voice surprised me. "We don't make promises lightly, if ever. And incidentally, releasing a faery from a vow is the worst insult in the world. You're basically telling him you don't trust him anymore, that you believe he's incapable of carrying it out."

I stood up. "That's not true at all," I protested, as Grimalkin slid from the back cushions to curl up in the spot I'd vacated. "I just don't want him staying with me because he has has to." to."

"Jeez, you're thick sometimes." Puck shook his head as I gaped at him. "Princess, Ash would never have made that vow if he wasn't planning on following you anyway. Even if he never spoke it, do you think you could force him to stay behind?" He sneered. "I know you couldn't force me me-I'm going with you whether you like it or not, so you can stop glaring. But, by all means...." He waved a hand at the door. "Go find ice-boy and free him from his silly promise. You'll never see him again, that's for certain. That's basically what releasing a faery means-you don't want them around any longer."

I slumped in defeat. "I just...I only wanted...I can't watch either of you die," I muttered again, a weak excuse that sounded lamer by the second. Puck snorted.

"Come on, Meghan. A little faith, please?" He crossed his arms and gave me an annoyed look. "You're writing us off before we even get started. Me and ice-boy both. I've been around a long time, I intend to be around awhile longer."

"I didn't think it would come this soon." I started to sink back onto the couch, but stood up quickly as Grimalkin hissed at me. "I mean, I knew I had to face him eventually, the false king. But I thought I'd have more time to get ready." I scooted over a few feet, away from the cat, and perched on the arm. "All this time, I've felt that I've just been floundering, getting lucky again and again. That luck's going to run out someday."

"It got us this far, princess." Puck walked over and put an arm around me. I didn't shrug it off. I was tired of fighting. I wanted my best friend back. Leaning against him, I listened to the brownies scuttle back and forth in the kitchen. The smell of baking bread wafted into the room, warm and comforting. Our last meal, perhaps?

Way to think positive, Meghan.

"You're right," I said. "And I have to do this. I know that. If I ever want a normal life, I have to face the false king or he'll never leave me alone." I sighed and walked over to the window, brooding into the coming twilight. "It's just...this time it feels different," I said, seeing my reflection in the gla.s.s, staring back at me. "I have so much more to lose. You and Ash, the Nevernever, my family, my dad." I stopped, resting my forehead against the gla.s.s. "My dad," I groaned. "What am I going to do with my dad?"

There was a thump from the hallway, and I closed my eyes. Well, that was just about perfect timing. I sighed and straightened up. "How long have you been standing there, Dad?"

"From about the time you were talking about luck." Paul came into the room, sitting across on the piano bench. I watched him in the gla.s.s reflection. "You're leaving, aren't you?" he asked softly.

Puck stood and discreetly wandered out the door, leaving me and Dad alone except for the snoozing Grimalkin. I hesitated, then nodded. "I hate to leave you alone like this," I said, turning around. "I wish I didn't have to go."

Paul's brow was furrowed, as if he was struggling to understand, but his eyes remained clear as he slowly nodded. "This is...important?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Will you be back?"