The Iron Legends: Winter's Passage / Summer's Crossing / Iron's Prophecy. Julie KagawaЧитать онлайн книгу.
girl can take the bed under the window,” Liaden said, wrapping the baby in another ratty, once-white blanket. “I fear I must go out now, but please make yourselves at home. There is tea and milk in the cupboards, and extra blankets in the closet. But midnight draws close, and we must depart. Farewell.”
Holding her infant close to her chest, she opened the door, letting in a blast of painfully cold air, and slipped out into the night. The door clicked behind her, and we were alone.
“Where is she going?” I asked, moving closer to the fireplace. My fingers were finally getting some feeling back, and were all tingly now. Ash didn’t look at me.
“You don’t want to know.”
“Ash…”
He sighed. “She’s going to wash her baby in the blood of a human infant to make her own child whole and healthy again. If only for a little while.”
I recoiled. “That’s horrible!”
“You asked.”
I shuddered and rubbed my upper arms, looking out the cabin’s grimy window. Moonlight sparkled through the glass, and the land beyond was frozen solid. This was Unseelie territory, like Ash had said. I was far from home and family and the safety of a normal life.
Closing my eyes, I started to shake. What would happen to me once I reached the Winter Court? Would Mab throw me in a dungeon, or maybe feed me to her goblins? What would a centuries-old faery queen do to the daughter of her ancient rival? Whatever it was, I couldn’t imagine it would be good for me. Fear twisted my gut.
I felt Ash move behind me, so close that I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. He didn’t touch me, but his presence, quiet and strong, calmed me somewhat. Though the logical part of my mind told me he might be the one I should fear the most.
“So, how will this work?” I asked casually, trying to keep the accusation from my voice. It crept out, anyway. “Am I a prisoner of the Winter Court? A guest? Will Mab toss me in a cell, or is she planning something much more interesting?”
He hesitated, and I could hear the reluctance in his voice when he finally spoke. “I don’t know what she intends to do,” he said softly. “Mab doesn’t share her plans with me, or anyone.”
“It’s going to be dangerous for me there, isn’t it? I’m Oberon’s daughter. Everyone will hate me.” I remembered the redcap’s hungry gaze and rubbed my arms. “Or want to eat me.”
His hands lightly grasped my shoulders, making my skin tingle and my heart flutter in my chest. “I will protect you,” he murmured, and his voice went even lower, as if talking to himself. “Somehow.”
Grimalkin appeared abruptly, leaping onto a stool by the fire, making me jump and Ash withdraw his hands. I mourned the loss of his touch. “Get some rest,” the Winter prince said, moving away. “If nothing else happens, we should reach the Winter Court by tomorrow night.”
Gingerly, I lay down on the bed beneath the window, trying not to imagine the last thing that used the mattress. Ash claimed a chair by the fire, turning it so he faced the door, and drew his sword into his lap. Surprisingly, the bed was warm and comfortable, and I drifted off to the outline of Ash’s profile keeping watch by the fire.
I must’ve woken sometime in the night, or perhaps I dreamed, for I remember opening my eyes to see Ash and Grimalkin standing before the hearth, talking quietly. Their voices were too low to hear, but the look on Ash’s face was scary in its bleakness. He raked a hand through his hair and said something to Grimalkin, who nodded slowly and replied. I blinked, or maybe drifted off again, because when I opened my eyes again Grimalkin was gone. Ash stood with his hands braced on the mantel and his shoulders hunched, staring into the flames, and didn’t move for a long time.
Chapter Four
THE HUNTER
“Get up.”
The cold voice was the first thing I heard the next morning, cutting through layers of sleep and grogginess, bringing me fully awake. Ash loomed over me, his posture stiff, regarding me with empty silver eyes.
“We’re leaving,” he said in a flat voice, and tossed something on the bed, where it landed in a cloud of dust. A thick, hooded cloak, gray and dusty, as if all color had been leeched out of it. “Found that in the closet,” Ash continued, turning away. “It should keep you from freezing. But we need to go, now. The sooner we reach the Winter Court the better.”
“Where’s Grim?” I asked, struggling upright, reeling from his sudden change in mood. Ash opened the door, letting in a blast of frigid air.
“Gone. Left early this morning.” He waited, still holding the door, as I swirled the cloak around my shoulders. When I drew up the hood, the prince nodded briskly. “Let’s go.”
“Is something coming?” I asked, jogging after him through the snow, my breath puffing in the air. Everything was covered in a new layer of ice. “Is the Hunter getting close again?”
“No.” He didn’t look at me. “Not that I can tell.”
I swallowed. “Did I…do something wrong?”
He hesitated this time, then sighed. “No,” he said in a softer voice. “You did nothing wrong.”
“Then why are you being like this? Ash? Hey!” I lunged forward and grabbed his sleeve, bringing us both to a halt.
“Let go.” Ash’s voice held the subtle hint of warning. I shook off my fear and stubbornly planted my feet.
“Or what? You’ll kill me? Haven’t you already made that threat?”
“Don’t tempt me.” But his voice had lost its coldness—now it just sounded tired. He sighed, raking his free hand through his hair. “It’s not important. Just…something Grimalkin said. Something I already knew.”
“What?”
He turned. “Meghan…”
In the distance, a howl echoed over the trees.
I jerked, and Ash straightened, his gaze sharpening. “The Hunter,” he muttered. “Again. How could it catch up so quickly?”
The howl came again, and I shivered, drawing closer to Ash. “What is it?”
The prince’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know. But this stops now. Come on!”
Ash kept a tight hold on my hand as we sprinted through the snow. I thought of the bridge and the impossible chasm that Hunter had, somehow, cleared, and hoped this plan would work out better. It didn’t seem likely that we would outrun whatever tireless beast was behind us.
The forest thinned, and jagged cliffs rose up on either side of us, sparkling in the sun. Huge blue-and-green crystals jutted out from the sides, sending fractured prisms of light over the snow. Ash led me through a narrow canyon, sheer cliff walls pressing in on either side until it opened up in a snowy clearing surrounded by mountains.
The howl rang out again, echoing eerily through the gully we had just come through. Whatever it was, it was closing fast.
“This way.” Ash tugged on my hand and pulled me toward the far side of the clearing. Between two pine trees, a dark blot in the cliff face marked the entrance to a cave, icicles dangling from the opening like teeth.
“Go,” Ash said, pushing me forward. “Get inside, hurry.”
I scrambled through the opening, being careful not to stab myself on the icicles, and straightened, looking around. The cave was huge, a vast, ice-covered cavern, sunlight slanting in through the holes in the roof far, far above us. The ceiling sparkled, every square inch covered with sharp, gleaming icicles, some longer than I was tall. A breeze howled through the cave, and the icicles tinkled like wind chimes, filling the cavern with song.
“Ash,”