Summer’s Crossing (3 page)

“You need not do anything,” Oberon continued quietly. “Only expose the prince when you are in the Summer Court. Titania will do the rest. His blood will not be on your hands—you would only be doing what a true servant of the Summer Court would do. When the prince is gone, Meghan Chase will come to you for comfort. And all will be as it should.”

I couldn't answer. I could almost feel Meghan against me, shaking with sobs as she mourned her Winter prince. I could feel my arms around her as I whispered that it would be okay, that she still had me, and I would never leave. And then I wanted to kick myself in the head for thinking that.

Oberon watched silently. “Robin Goodfellow,” he murmured. “Despite our past differences, I consider you my most trusted servant. We are old, older than the Winter prince. We have known each other a long time. But sometimes, I wonder if you realize you are still part of the Summer Court. It is your home. You do not need anything else.”

I clenched my fingers, feeling the branch splinter under my touch. If Oberon saw, he wasn't concerned.

“My daughter is truly one of us now,” he went on. “Immortal. A queen of the fey. You have all the time in the world to make her fall in love with you. It would not be hard—the two of you are already very close. I know you would find a way to be with her, even in the Iron Realm. Once you put your mind to something, Robin, there is no stopping it. But you must be rid of the Winter prince before she can see you.”

I didn't answer. I felt the Seelie King draw back, preparing to go. “The choice is yours, of course,” he said as the fire died down and the plants around us stopped their crazy writhing. “My hunt will take me far from Arcadia, far from the whispers of mischief plaguing the Summer Court. Do what you will, Robin, but remember, if you love my daughter, this could be your only chance to be with her in the end. Otherwise, you will lose Meghan Chase to the very one who has sworn to kill you.”

A warm wind hissed through the grotto, stirring the fire and the leaves. When it faded, the space was empty, save for me. The Erlking was gone.

Ash returned a few minutes later, sweeping into the grotto without preamble, carrying a brace of rabbit, which showed he had indeed been hunting. He tossed one at my feet, and without a word we began cleaning them, working in silence as the night closed in around us.

Kill Ash? Betray him to the Summer Court? What was Oberon thinking? As if I could do anything like that, even if it was technically Titania who would strike the fatal blow. And she would, too. Ash might be a prince, but Titania was a queen. You did not screw around with the queens of Faery; at least, you didn't go toe-to-toe with them, especially in their own court. Even I knew that. And with Oberon conveniently absent, Titania wouldn't spare the Winter prince. She would utterly destroy him.

I couldn't do that to ice-boy. Even after all the years of bad blood and fighting between us, even though he probably
would
try to kill me someday, and actually go through with it, I couldn't leave him to the mercy of Titania.

But…if I didn't, Meghan would never love me. My princess, the girl I'd do anything for, would never see me, never look at me the way she did Ash.

What made him so special? What did he have that I did not?

“You're awfully quiet.”

I blinked and looked up from skinning the hare. Ash knelt a few feet from the fire, bent over his task, his hunting knife working with smooth efficiency. “W-what?” I blurted, a little too quickly.
Oh, that was brilliant, Goodfellow. Fix it, now
. “Me?” I continued, feigning shock. “Why, ice-boy, whatever do you mean? Could it be that you're actually concerned?”

He didn't look up as he continued. “You're hiding something,” Ash said calmly. “If I can hear myself think through your chatter, that means something is up. Or about to go very, very wrong. Anything you want to tell me, Goodfellow?”

Damn, when had ice-boy become able to read me? That was something I was going to have to work on. “Yes,” I answered, forcing a grin. “I think turning you into a squirrel is the easiest way to sneak you into Arcadia. What do you think? Or, if you prefer, I could probably turn you into a mouse. Or a bird. Or a rabbit!” I looked at the skinned carcass in my hands. “Though that might go badly if Titania has her hounds anywhere about…”

“Never mind.” Ash sighed, shaking his head. “I'm sorry I said anything.”

“Ooh, I know!” I snapped my fingers. “A chameleon! That way you can perch on my collar and blend right in. It's brilliant! And you'd make a very handsome chameleon, don't you think, ice-boy?”

Ash rolled his eyes and bent lower over his task, tuning me out. I kept talking at him, useless, idle words that neither of us took seriously. It was a shield, a barrier for my real thoughts, which I couldn't shut away no matter how hard I tried.

Why are you here?

For Meghan. That was the obvious answer. I was here for Meghan. Because I loved my princess and I wanted her to be happy. Even if her happiness meant she was with someone else. Even if that someone else was my arch rival. I wanted her to be happy.

Don't you think
you
could make her happy?

I could. If she had picked me, I would've given her everything. I was the one who could make her laugh, who showed her the wonders of Summer magic, who had taken a bullet for her without question. (Which, by the way, hurt like a mother.) I was the one who protected her from her cruel human classmates, who walked her to and from the bus every day, who remembered her birthday when everyone else, even her own family, forgot.
Princess, why couldn't you have chosen me? Wasn't I good enough? Or is this my fault for waiting? For not making a move sooner?

Damn. I'd thought I was over this. I'd thought I was fine in the friend zone, but I couldn't get Oberon's words out of my head. The Erlking, though he could be a manipulative, heartless bastard sometimes, was right. As long as Ash was around, Meghan would never see me as anything more than a friend.

So, you have to ask yourself, Goodfellow, who is more important? The woman you love and would do anything for, or the rival who has vowed to kill you one day?

I watched Ash, brooding into the fire, his back to me as he poked at the flames. My once-friend turned enemy. What would the ruthless Unseelie prince do, were he in my position?

Abruptly I stood, making Ash glance back warily. “Going somewhere, Goodfellow?”

“Just for a walk, princeling. But I'm touched that you care.” I smirked at him, and he turned away, back to the fire. I made a face at his shoulder blades. “You know, I'm getting a little tired of talking to a stone wall,” I continued, walking to the edge of the grotto. “I think having a conversation with a dead fish would be more rewarding than yapping at you.”

“It's never stopped you before.”

“See? That's what I'm talking about.” I rolled my eyes. “But you'll have to excuse me for needing some time alone, Prince. I have to figure out how I'm actually going to smuggle your icy carcass into the Summer Court.”

He looked up sharply. “I thought you had this planned out.”

“Oh,
now
we're interested in a conversation, are we?” I chuckled and laced my hands behind my head. “Don't worry, ice-boy, I'll figure something out. I always do.”

He watched me, silently. I stared back, still smirking, daring him to say something, to argue. Finally he sighed and turned back to the fire.

“It's your court,” I heard him mutter. “You know it better than I.”

Yeah, it is,
I thought as I drew back and left him, walking into the forest.
It is my court; I'm part of Summer, and you're supposed to be my enemy, Ash. Do you ever think about that? How you're walking into enemy territory with someone who is supposed to be loyal to the Seelie Court?

I hadn't been entirely straightforward. I already knew how I was going to sneak his royal iciness into Arcadia, right under the nose of Titania and the Summer Guard, without anyone knowing he was there. It would be challenging; Ash was a Winter prince through and through. You couldn't just slap a fake mustache on him and hope for the best, not with his glamour aura. Fortunately I'd been doing this a long time. If anyone could get a Winter gentry into the Summer Court unseen, it would be yours truly.

No, I just needed time alone. Time to think. Time to plan.

Time to figure out what I really wanted to do.

 

“No.”

I rolled my eyes. “Ice-boy, come on. I least I'm not turning you into a lemur. This is the only way to get into the Summer Court without everyone knowing you're…you.”

“There has to be another way.”

“There isn't.” I crossed my arms and glared. We had reached the border of Arcadia, and stood at the edge of the wyldwood, gazing across the river to the Erlking's lands on the other side. A wooden bridge, blooming with wildflowers, spanned the gulf, and two Summer Knights guarded the far side. Ash and I stood in a cluster of pine trees, watching them across the river, the churning rapids masking our hissed conversation.

“It's a
disguise,
Ash,” I said again. “An illusion. We have to mask your Winter glamour with my Summer glamour, and we have to change your appearance so that people don't freak out the second you walk into the court. Really, it's the only way. How did you think this was going to go?”

Ash sighed, tilting his head back. “You're enjoying this far too much.”

“Well.” I shrugged, biting down a grin. “I can't say anything there.” He glared ice-daggers at me, and I raised my hands. “Do you want to get into Arcadia, or not?”

“Fine.” He made a frustrated, helpless gesture. “Do it. Let's get this over with.”

“Thought you'd never say so.” I pulled him farther back into the trees, calling my magic as I did.

“Hold still,” I told him as he crossed his arms and tried to look bored and annoyed. “This won't take long, but I have to weave Summer glamour into the illusion so that it's strong enough to hide your Winter aura. If you were a redcap or an ice-gnome, it wouldn't take very much, but you're
you
, so this is going to be considerably more challenging.” I felt my Summer magic settle over him, felt it recoil from the icy chill of the Winter glamour surrounding him like a suit of armor, and frowned. “Ice-boy, stop fighting me. If you want to get this stupid favor over and done with, this is the only way. You have to let me help you.” He snorted, and the protective cloak of Winter glamour vanished.

I drew more Summer magic to me and sent it toward the prince, weaving the illusion over and around him. His magic resisted me—say what you want about the Winter prince, at his core, Ash was incredibly strong. He knew who he was, and someone of lesser skill couldn't have turned him into something he was not, even if it was just an illusion.

But I'm not your average trickster, either.

Ash's outline shimmered and started to change. He didn't grow, or shrink, but his hair lengthened, falling down his back, and went from jet-black to the color of wheat. His pale skin turned golden-brown, as if he'd spent a lifetime in the sun, and his cold silver eyes flashed before turning a bright, glittering blue.

His clothes changed as well, the long black coat vanishing into mist, replaced with armor of gold and green, the proud head of a huge stag adorning the breastplate. A fancy gold cloak settled around him, the edges trimmed with leaves, something Ash wouldn't be caught dead in. When it was done, no trace of the Winter prince stood in the spot beneath the pines. A Summer sidhe waited in the shadows, only his scowl bearing the faintest resemblance to the youngest son of Queen Mab.

I put a hand to my mouth in mock delight. “Oh, ice-boy, it's…it's…so you!”

“I'm going to kill you for this,” Ash growled, then winced at how his voice sounded, high and clear. I bit my cheek to keep from howling with laughter. If he drew his sword, it would shatter the illusion, and then we'd have to go through all this again.

“Yeah, well, do it later, ice-boy. Remember, you can't use any Winter glamour in there at all, or the spell will unravel. That includes drawing your sword and throwing icicles at me, so let's not start any fights with any Summer gentry while we're here, okay? We just want to get in, grab the violin and get out again.”

Ash nodded. I stepped back and tossed the same illusion over myself, making a pair of almost identical Summer Knights. Glancing at my fellow guard, I grinned. “Ready?”

He sighed again, raking his fingers through his now unfamiliar hair. “Lead the way.”

 

The two knights guarding the bridge nodded politely as we crossed, but other than that didn't even glance at us. I caught one of them hiding a smirk as we passed, but that was understandable, given the circumstances. I didn't think ice-boy had seen it, but I was wrong.

“Who are we supposed to be?” Ash asked as we continued into the lands of the Erlking. Past the bridge, the heat of the summer sun blazed down on us, warming my skin and making me sigh with pleasure. Of all the things in the Seelie Court, I missed the sun the most. The wyldwood was too dark and Tir Na Nog was too cold; only in Arcadia did the sun shine full and bright, and the sweetest apples grow on the trees over the thorn fence, always ripe for the picking. If you could get past the two cranky giants who owned the orchard, that is.

“Oh,” I said, grinning. “Right. Names. Well, you're Sir Torin, and I'm Sir Fagan, and we're two hedge knights who travel all over the Nevernever on quests of glory for our king and court. You know, we right wrongs and slay dragons and search for mythological treasures, stuff like that.”

“So, they're well respected.”

“Well…” I scratched the back of my head. “Not exactly.”

Ash stared at me. “What do you mean, not exactly?”

“Ever read
Don Quixote
?” I asked. And Ash closed his eyes, indicating that, yes, he had read it. I snickered. “They're very eager,” I continued, trying not to laugh at the look on his face, “and they do have very noble intentions, I will give them that. But those two couldn't find their way out of a broom closet without a map. It's sheer dumb luck that they haven't gotten themselves killed or eaten by now. They keep begging Oberon to send them on noble, important quests to prove their worth, and Oberon ends up giving them some ridiculous mission just to get them out of his hair.”

“And, of course, these are the identities you stole for us.”

“It's perfect, don't you think?” I flung my arms out grandly. “Sir Torin and Sir Fagan are almost never at court, the other knights usually avoid them and we have a reason to go see Queen Titania, to announce the completion of our most recent quest.”

“And if the real Torin and Fagan happen to be there?”

“Well.” I shrugged, annoyed with his logic. “Then we'll improvise.”

I could tell Ash didn't like it; he was always the plan-for-anything type, and usually found my play-it-by-ear tactics annoying and disturbing. But he didn't say anything more, and it wasn't long before we came to the huge mound of grassy earth that marked the entrance into Oberon's court. Thick brambles surrounded the rise, though they parted easily before us, letting us through, and we walked toward the side of the hill without breaking stride.

“Anything else I should know about?” Ash muttered as we approached the mound side by side. “Any small detail you conveniently overlooked that might come up while we're here?”

“Um…” I shot him a sideways glance. “Just one more small thing.” He raised an eyebrow, and I chewed my lip. Oh, he was not going to like this. “Torin and the queen are rumored to be…um…involved.”

“What?”

But then we were through the side of the hill and stepping into a courtyard teeming with Summer fey—the heart of Arcadia.