“So, why does Grimalkin want to meet us there?” I asked, as we landed our gliders a little way from the edge of the Iron Realm. As the new treaty dictated, no Iron fey could cross the border into the wyldwood without permission from Summer or Winter. As Iron Queen, I could probably have ignored the rule this once, but the peace treaty was still new, and I didn’t want to rock the boat, so I would oblige them for now. The gliders made disappointed clicking sounds when I told them to go home, but eventually went swooping back toward Mag Tuiredh. “I hope he doesn’t expect us to make a wish on the thing,” I continued, as Ash scanned the surroundings, wary and alert as always. “I’ve learned my lesson, thanks. I’d rather go to tea with Mab than make a wish on something called the Wishing Tree in the middle of the Nevernever.”

“You have no idea how relieved I am to finally hear you say that.” Ash was still gazing around the clearing, looking solemn apart from the grin in his voice. When I glared at him, he turned, and the smile finally broke through. “I don’t think we’ll have to worry about that,” he said easily. “Though I would still advise you to be cautious. This is Grimalkin we’re talking about, after all.”

“Yeah.” I sighed as he closed the distance between us, not touching, but always close. “And he won’t tell us anything until he’s good and ready and I’m about to strangle him.”

Ash’s smile faded as he raised his head, tilting it to the side as though listening for something. “Do you hear that?” he asked.

We fell silent. Through the trees, faint at first but growing steadily louder, voices rose into the air—shouts and curses, mixed with the clang of weapons.

“Sounds like a fight,” Ash stated calmly, and I exhaled. Of course it was. This was the Nevernever, where nothing was ever simple.

“Come on,” I muttered, drawing my sword, “we’d better see what’s happening. I swear though, if I catch any more Winter knights this close to the border, Mab is going to get an earful.”

* * *