The Iron Witch (15 page)

Xan walked to the miniature crossroads, resting his hand on the trunk of an old oak and closing his eyes. Donna watched him, trying not to think about how his hair fell onto his forehead and made him look younger than his nineteen years. She suddenly thought of Navin and what might be happening to him, but she tried not to be impatient. She refused to believe Navin was anything other than alive and well—they just had to find him, and then everything would be all right.

Xan opened his eyes and nodded toward the right-hand pathway. “This way.”

“Are you sure?”

He shrugged. “Not really, but it’s the best we’ve got.” He glanced at her. “Don’t you remember
any
of this?”

“No, I told you, I hardly remember anything.” Donna swallowed as she thought of her father. “My dreams show me a clearing, every single time, but I don’t know if it’s real or imagined.”

He took her hand in his. Her glove sitting in his large hand made her feel warm and safe. “Maybe we’ll find out,” he said.

Trying to smile, Donna gently squeezed his fingers, ignoring the memory of what she’d done to Melanie earlier. Sometimes the strength in her hands scared her, but it seemed that she only did the
really
crazy-powerful stuff when her emotions and adrenaline were running high.

Xan looked into her eyes. “Donna, I’m so glad I found you.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “Hey,” she said, trying to keep her voice light. “
I
found
you
, don’t forget.”

“I’m glad you could look beyond how stupid I acted that night up on the roof. I behaved like an idiot.”

“No you didn’t.”
Well
, she thought,
maybe a little
. She bit her lip to keep from smiling.

“I did, and we both know it. I was showing off—hiding behind some kind of mysterious face that isn’t really me at all.” He grinned. “Not all the time, anyway.”

They followed the path to the right, walking in silence again. Donna found her thoughts straying to Quentin’s grandfather clock. Maybe she could get another look at it tomorrow, when she went back to her classes with Alma.

And then she stopped walking, brought up short by Xan, who had paused in front of her. He was staring off into the undergrowth on the left of the pathway, his eyes taking on a haunted look that left her breathless with fear.

“Xan, what is it?” She stepped forward, wondering whether she should touch him or not. He seemed turned to stone, his jaw clenching and his usually golden skin pale in the dim light slipping through the trees.

“We’re here.”

Donna looked around, wondering how on earth he could tell. All the trees looked the same to her, although the undergrowth seemed to crowd closer and there was less light here. Xan was staring into the depths of the trees, toward a clump of long-leafed bushes. There didn’t appear to be anything unusual about it to Donna.

At least, not to start with. But when her hands started to throb and the familiar ache started up in her wrists and arms, she began to suspect that they were in the right place after all.

Xan cleared his throat. “We need to go through there.” He reached for her hand again and she gratefully clasped it in her own. “Donna, are you sure you want to do this?”

She nodded. “Absolutely.” Her stomach tightened, but she knew she had no choice. She had to go after Navin.

Xan stepped off the path, taking her with him. They began to work their way through the tangled undergrowth, ducking beneath branches and vines that reached out for them and brushed their faces. Donna tried to ignore the steady ache in her hands, hanging onto Xan and concentrating on making sure she didn’t get a stray branch in her eye.

Pushing his way between two towering, dark green bushes, Xan bent the brambles out of Donna’s way so she could duck underneath his arm and slip through the gap. The eerie silence made her heart beat so loudly she wondered if he could hear it.

And then, on the other side of the spiteful branches, Donna found herself standing in a tiny clearing. Not the clearing of her dreams—no, this one provided barely enough space for the two of them to stand, together, on the dead leaves that littered the ground. Tree trunks pressed in all sides, the moss-covered bark smelling musty and vaguely rotten.

Even without her history with the alchemists, Donna would have known she was in a magical place—and it wasn’t a benign sort of magic, either. There was an oppressive feel that didn’t just come from the crowded trees. The air was full of a dull heaviness that weighed on her shoulders and made it difficult to breathe properly. She glanced at Xan to see if he felt it too.

He raised his eyebrows. “Are you okay?”

She shook her head. “Don’t you feel that?”

“We’re approaching the doorway—the elves’ power is at its strongest here. That’s probably what you’re picking up on.”

“But you don’t feel that …
weight
on you?”

“I have fey blood, don’t forget. I can feel a sort of energy—a buzz all around me—but it doesn’t feel all that bad.”

Donna felt a shiver run through her. Xan’s eyes seemed greener than ever; they burned with a deep emerald fire, confirming that he wasn’t fully human. She took a deep breath. “So, what now?”

“This is it.” His voice was steady—all the uncertainty he had earlier seemed to have left him. Clearly he was being led by something other than dream or memory. A knowledge that ran bone-deep guided them both, now.

“But … there’s nothing here.” Donna looked around, wondering if she’d missed something.

“Not yet,” replied Xan. He crouched down on the ground and ran his hands over the dark earth. He grabbed a handful of dirt and leaves and a few twigs, then stood and faced her once more. “Put your hand on mine so that you’re touching this stuff.”

Donna did as she was told. “What are you doing?”

“Opening the door.” Xan closed his eyes for a moment. Donna was almost certain she could see a glow escaping from beneath his lids, but he re-opened his eyes before she could be sure. “I was lucky enough to find someone, eventually—a mentor who guided me through the basics of this stuff, taught me about my heritage.”

“I’d like to hear about him someday.”

“
Her
,” replied Xan. “She was a good friend.”

Donna determinedly ignored the stab of jealousy she felt. Now wasn’t the time to act like a child. Xan’s mentor being female didn’t mean anything.

His eyes softened as he watched her. “She’s the friend who died last year.”

Oh
. Way to feel like a totally heartless bitch. “Xan, I—”

He shook his head. “Not now,” he said. “I need to focus.”

And then Donna forgot about everything. Her eyes widened as she watched Xan become more ethereal, less solid. There was a translucent quality to his golden skin, and she felt a rush of heat against her face. The blast of hot air seemed to be coming from …
Xan
. So here was the guy who couldn’t do fey magic, apart from “pretty tricks.”
Riiight
.

He spoke. “We seek the Old Path and approach the door. I hold earth in my hand and invoke the power in my blood—the blood of my ancestors. I ask to be granted entrance to this dark place. We come in peace. Open!”

Donna jumped as he shouted the last word, but she kept her grip on the bundle of dirt and leaves that they held. The air in front of her seemed to shimmer and thicken, and for a moment darkness folded itself around her. It was a peculiar kind of blackness, with a texture all its own. The heavy scent of decay filled her nostrils, sweet and cloying as molasses.

Then the dim light returned, and between the close-packed tree trunks there appeared a new pathway, seeming almost like a fairy-tale track leading down what looked like a tree-lined cavern. The branches bent overhead in a leafy canopy—a living tunnel.

Donna turned to Xan, wondering whether she could let go of the twigs and earth now, and was relieved when he dropped it onto the ground. She brushed dirt from her gloves and examined the entrance that had opened. “So, I thought you couldn’t do any magic.”

He didn’t meet her eyes. “Oh, that wasn’t really my magic—it was just opening a door to the
otherworld
. There are plenty of them around. You just have to know where to look.”

He turned toward the leafy tunnel. “Let’s get this over with.”

Donna caught a glimpse of how pale he suddenly looked. How could she blame him? After all he’d lost at the hands of the elves, he was willing to walk back into their territory. For her. She herself was fighting down a feeling of cold dread, trying not to think about the nightmarish creature that had caused her own injuries. The Wood Monster, as it had become known in her dreams. The
Skriker
.

Xan grabbed her hand again, pulling her forward, and they stepped onto the secret pathway—the Old Path. As Donna placed her foot on the bed of pine needles, it almost felt as though she’d walked through a physical membrane—invisible, but very definitely there. Her ears popped as they pushed their way through and started down the tunnel of arching branches. She became aware of a whispering sound that seemed to come from all around.

Swallowing, Donna ignored the feeling of being watched that was creeping slowly up her spine. She concentrated instead on putting one foot in front of the other.
All I need to think about is Navin
, she told herself firmly.
That’s why I’m here
. Guilt rose inside her, a physical sensation in her chest that made it hard to breathe: they had only taken her friend because of her. Of that she was certain.

Now she just had to find out why.

It was like walking down a shadowy hallway. Donna gripped Xan’s hand as tightly as she dared, stepping over dead leaves through the Elflands alongside a half-human guy she’d met only a few days ago. They were in the last remaining home of the wood elves. It felt horribly real.

A clearing opened ahead of them, and Donna knew it would be larger than the previous one. Holding her breath, she felt a blade of sunlight touch her as they passed beneath a gap in the canopy overhead. And then it was gone, and they were plunged once more into near darkness as they headed toward the opening ahead. She found herself walking faster now, just so she could step into the wide open space of the clearing—anything to escape the oppressive feeling of being closed in by trees.

As they emerged from the tunnel, Donna fought to control her breathing and took in the familiar creatures ranged around the clearing. They looked more twisted and grotesque than ever under the shifting shadows of the waving branches. She felt Xan give her hand a squeeze and held on for dear life. She didn’t dare look at him.

This clearing was similar to the one in her dream, but there was no tree stump in the center of it. Instead, there was a carved wooden chair, rough-hewn but strangely beautiful, its ragged edges seeming to be part of something living. It was a throne of sorts, draped with ivy and other vines, with white flowers scattered on the ground around it.

Sitting on the throne was a human-shaped figure, seemingly carved out of wood. Donna wondered for a moment if she—for clearly it was a “she”—was wearing an
elfskin
to change her form in some way, but a deep intuition told her that this was the being’s own skin. She seemed more fey, and less twisted and made of earth, than the other wood elves. Donna’s legs trembled as she counted six elves standing in a semicircle around the throne, apparently some kind of guard. They half-crouched, muttering, watching her and Xan through slitted black eyes.

“Welcome,” said the woman-thing sitting on the throne, in a voice like rustling leaves. “Welcome Donna Underwood, of the iron world.”

Then the woman laughed, her nut-brown face creasing into cruel lines and her lipless mouth opening wide. Her mossy hair was long and thick, crowned with brambles and white flowers. There was a belt of long grasses around her slender waist, and Donna’s eyes widened as she realized there were hanks of what looked like human hair hanging from it. E
lflocks
. She swallowed. If the legends were to be believed, these belonged to trapped human souls.

Her breath caught in her throat.
Mom
, she thought, trying to get a better look at the belt.

But the woman-thing was speaking again. “Come here, child. Leave your halfling companion where he is.” Her voice hissed with clear disdain.

The sound set Donna’s teeth on edge and made her hands and arms throb more than ever. She tried to find the strength to speak. She stepped forward, ignoring Xan’s warning tug on her hand. “How do you know my name?”

“We remember you, Donna Underwood. Don’t you remember us?” The creature’s voice was gentle and deadly at the same time, the strange leafy tones as expressive as the most human of voices.

Donna lifted her chin. “Yes, I remember some of you. But I don’t recall
you
… ”

“Ah, you were but a young sapling. Please, let us make introductions, as is proper. I am the Wood Queen—ruler of the Elflands, of all that is left of our territory—and these are my kin, the wood elves. I have many names, though some have called me Aliette.”

“
Aliette
? Isn’t that French?” Donna tried to fit the name to the strange woman before them.

The Wood Queen—Aliette—watched her with expressionless eyes. “That is the closest you will get to my name in your limited language. It serves well enough.”

“I wish I could say I was pleased to meet you,” Donna muttered. She was terrified, yet there was something so surreal about the whole setting that she could almost believe it was happening to somebody else. Or maybe it was just another dream.

Xan glanced at her, a question on his lips, but he was forced to turn his attention back to the Wood Queen when she spoke directly to him.

“Your name is unknown to us, half-fey creature, but you do not belong here.”

“That’s not what some of your
kin
thought when they tried to kill me in the Elflands.” Xan’s voice shook, but not with fear. His barely withheld fury made him seem more powerful and older than he was.

“Did they?” asked the queen, almost nonchalantly. “That may be so, but the past is the past.”

Xan stepped forward, his head raised. “How dare you disregard me. I will not be brushed aside so easily,
your majesty
. I demand reparations for what I lost.”

Aliette’s slitted eyes grew even more narrow. If she’d possessed lips, Donna suspected they would be curled into an expression of scorn right about now. “You are in no position to demand anything,
halfling
.”

Although Donna had been trying to follow the conversation, Xan had kind of lost her at “reparations.” And she’d been under the impression that his reason for being here was to help her to find Navin. And Maker. She pulled him around to face her, ignoring his resistance while brazenly turning her back on the queen. “What are you
doing
?” she whispered.

Xan was flushed and breathing heavily. “I’m sorry. When I saw her just … sitting there. And those things around her.” Xan licked his lips and looked at the ground. “I lost it for a second.”

She touched his face—a fleeting gesture that she could only hope transmitted her empathy. “It’s okay, Xan.”

The queen’s voice rang out, making Donna’s heart pound suddenly as she spun to face the throne again. “We are wasting time with your trivial nonsense, and I’m sure you don’t want to do that—not when there is so much at stake.” Her mouth curved up at the corners, a mocking reflection of a human smile. “I’d like to know why you invaded my lands, such as we have left.” Aliette shifted on her throne, leaves and vines rustling around her as if blown by an icy wind. She focused her black gaze on Donna. “What do you have to say to me, Donna Underwood of the alchemists? You, whom we now call
Iron Witch.”

Iron Witch?
What was this
thing
talking about? Donna’s eyes widened and she clenched her fists. The name must surely refer to her tattoos, but how would Aliette even know about that? Yet there was no time to reflect on the strange name—almost a title—that the queen had given her. She did her best to stand still, ignoring the wood elves circling the clearing. She and Xan were as good as trapped here—if they ran for it, she didn’t know if they could escape. So what did she have to lose by pursuing her reasons for coming in the first place? Donna was grateful for the light pressure of Xan’s arm across her back, his warm hand around her shoulder.

She looked directly at the Wood Queen. “I don’t know what that means,” she said formally. “I just want to know what you’ve done with my friend, Navin Sharma. And the alchemist, Maker.”

There was crackling laughter from the queen, followed by a slow, sly smile. “The boy is safe with us, and will remain so until you bring me what I need.”

“And what’s that?”

“Why, the secret of eternal life, my dear. What else is there?”

Donna took a step back. “What? Don’t you live long enough already? You’re practically immortal.” She knew what the queen was talking about, but she wasn’t about to show it.

“You know that isn’t true, girl. We live long, but not as long as we used to. The elves sicken and die, thanks to the spreading disease of the iron world. We will become nothing more than wraiths if I do not find a new way to survive.” She fixed Donna with her empty eyes. “All we have ever desired was to live our lives independent of the tithe, free of the rules of our fey cousins.”

Donna snorted. “Isn’t that what you’ve achieved?”

The queen’s voice was quieter than before. “The price has been … higher than anticipated.”

“Be careful what you wish for,
your majesty
.” Donna couldn’t help herself. This creature, who held her best friend prisoner, dared to complain about the consequences of the choices she’d made.

Xan stepped forward before Aliette could reply. “We just want to take our people and go. That’s all.”

Donna felt comprehension dawn, followed quickly by more confusion. “I can see why you’d take Maker as a hostage; he’s a powerful enemy and could give you leverage with the alchemists. But Navin … he only means something to me.”

“As indeed, Donna Underwood, you mean something to
us
,” replied the queen.

Donna’s stomach clenched. She stayed silent and tried to stop her knees from shaking as the queen’s words echoed softly in the forest air.

Aliette ran thin brown fingers along the lichen-covered arms of her throne. “There is so much you do not know, daughter of the alchemists. You might do well to ask your archmaster what you were doing in the Ironwood a decade ago.”

“What are you talking about?” Donna couldn’t stop herself. “Quentin and the Order were rescuing me from your people.”

The queen looked … bored, if it were possible for her face to register such an emotion. “And why, exactly, would we steal you from your bed, foolish child? How could we achieve such a thing in the iron world, when you were protected so well?”

Donna’s face drained of color; she could feel the flesh of her cheeks stretch tight and her head was suddenly too light. A faint buzzing in her ears made her wonder if she might faint. She didn’t understand what this creature was saying.

And then Xan’s arm was around her again, supporting her and sharing his warmth. “Don’t listen to her, Donna. She’s just trying to confuse you.”

“Believe what you will,” Aliette said. “It is of no consequence to me.”

“You’re not making sense, your majesty, so how can I believe anything you say?” She was pleased that her voice was steady.

The queen shrugged, dislodging some of the leaves from her shoulders. “What matters is that we have what
you
want, and you have access to what
we
want. I propose … a deal. An exchange of resources.”

Donna shook her head with a growing sense of panic. “I don’t have ‘access’ to anything!” It was crazy for this creature to think that she—a teenage girl, not yet a full Initiate—would have access to the most precious secret of the alchemists.

The Wood Queen’s face contorted into another smile, the cracked bark of her cheeks splitting further. “You will deliver the elixir of life to me. The secret of eternal life abides within those few precious drops hidden among the Order’s ranks, and we are dying. Even now the wood elves sicken; I can only provide them with as much power as I have, and the iron world takes its toll even on me.” Her face grew sly. “I know the alchemists have it—they are ever working to replicate it. Bring me the vial of elixir and I will let your friend go free.”

Donna could taste sharp metal in her mouth and realized that she had bitten her tongue. Her mind raced through what this meant, but it was difficult to think straight while the elves around them whispered and muttered, swayed and circled. A rumor
had
been making the rounds, among the alchemists of all four Orders, that the Order of the Dragon still possessed some of the elixir. Yet even if this was true, Donna had never been entirely convinced about the so-called power of the elixir. She’d seen a lot of strange things in seventeen years, but believing there was something that could convey immortality and heal mortal wounds was quite a stretch. And despite the rumors, she’d never seen any evidence that people like Quentin Frost or Maker were protecting the elixir of life.

But now it seemed that she’d been naïve, and her best friend could be paying the price. The Wood Queen was waiting for her answer. She licked her lips and tried to keep her expression neutral, thinking of the dark elf who’d attacked her and Xan on Ironbridge Common, and the one in Maker’s workshop. Not to mention her near certainty that
something
had been watching them when she and Navin left Xan’s party. The elves had been following her—tracking her, staking out the places she went to and the people she knew. People she loved, like Navin. And that made them vulnerable.
This
is what happened to people who were crazy enough to care about her.