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Iron Heinrich Page 2
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Hagnesofia had grabbed Heinrich’s chest. Told him of his slow death. But the time his sluggish mind remembered the corset, the early songbirds of morning echoed in the trees.
He barely registered the sunlight filtering through the leaves when his body broke apart, imploding again.
TWO
Silvia was almost certain that being a princess was supposed to come with more perks than problems. As it was, the latter were threatening to collapse her mental health and the former were few and far between.
She’d escaped to the forest to gain some peace, but not even the quiet around her could distract her from the knowledge that she was not truly alone here. Her mother’s spies were everywhere. And as soon as the queen realized she’d skipped the breakfast planning committee set up weeks ago, those spies would descend on her in full force.
Pretty little spies in the form of clockwork sparrows and lace-winged metal butterflies.
It would be to ensure her wellbeing at first, and then it would be little more than meddling.
Tossing her silver ball into the air, she caught it in both hands and turned it around in her grasp. The smaller orbs inside it rolled with each twist, following an intricate maze she’d made three days earlier. It was a distraction.
It wasn’t working.
She threw it into the air again and when it went higher than expected, she had to dive to catch it.
She missed.
The ball hit the tip of her fingers and was propelled forward… right into the reflecting pool she thought of as her private sanctuary.
Cursing, she dropped to her knees, searching the clear water for her shiny, ineffective distraction.
Clear though it might be, the bottom of the pond was full of undulating weeds where little silverfish lived. They sparkled beneath the surface, making finding her ball even harder.
Her eyes searched the part of the pool close to her. If it had gone in too far, she would either have to leave it be, or she’d need to go for a swim.
“There you are.”
She removed her cloak and dropped to her stomach. Reaching into the pool, Silvia thanked her luck that the unseasonably warm weather meant her dress had no sleeves to soak as she fished for the lost orb.
Her fingers clasped its filigree curves and she pulled it free, plucking the remains of the algae and a long piece of waterweed from its lacy outer shell. She set it on her discarded cloak to dry. Letting out a long sigh, she considered sitting up. There was no point. Tucking her hands under her chin, she watched the pond as water skimmers flickered across its surface, the little silver bugs left oily slicks in their wake that quickly evaporated into the air, leaving glimmering vapor trails before they disappeared.
Someone else might have smiled wistfully and enjoyed the beauty of the magic her mother’s presence wove through their kingdom. Silvia knew she ought to too. There were kingdoms that had lost their fairy queens generations ago. Kingdoms that were slowly stagnating in the decay of their magic.
A bird chirped loudly overhead and she looked up—silver feathers and mechanical heart—rolling her eyes at the thing before turning back to the pool.
“Caught,” she mumbled to her reflection
A beetle landed on a nearby leaf only to take to the air again, flying about with extended carapace and glowing body.
She’d have to go home soon. And after that, she’d have to find a new place to disappear to the next time she needed an escape. Her mother found her too quickly anymore.
Sitting up beside the reflecting pool, the trees around her whispered in the gentle morning wind. Pulling on her cloak once more, she fingered the blue fabric and wondered if she shouldn’t have a green one made to better blend in with the forest. She could always steal one of Ivy’s.
She kept her hood down and her eyes on the water. Picking up the ball, drying it off again and shaking out more droplets of water, she slipped it into her cloak pocket and pulled it more tightly around her shoulders. When she stood, a flash of light glinting off something metal caught her eye.
It shouldn’t have. The forest around her was mostly metal. One more piece wasn’t worth noticing.
But this one was different — wrong.
She stepped cautiously around the edge of the pool, stooping down to look at the metal creature that did not belong.
Iron clockwork and fitted with a jaunty little crown, a frog sat among a pile of discarded leaves, its dark metal a shadow amid her mother’s brightness.
“You,” she said, scooping it up and keeping it hidden from sight, “Are not my mother’s spy, are you?”
She slipped the frog into the interior pocket of her cloak that did not hold the ball and forced herself to trudge back to the palace. Her new metal friend had changed her mood, but if she ran back excited to examine it, her mother would be curious. She’d seek her out faster, and she wanted a little more time alone with her discovery.
Halfway back to the palace, a twig snapped to her right. She stopped, glancing in the direction of the sound. The morning sunlight filtered through the trees leaving long shadows, and for half a moment, she thought she saw a darkly cloaked figure.
Then it was gone.
Shaking away what was likely nothing more than a fanciful trick of her imagination, she continued on through the forest and broke out into the wide meadow surrounding her home.
The palace grounds were empty this time of morning. The gardeners had come and gone, the staff was busy dealing with breakfast, tidying rooms and the enormous amount of preparations her mother had set out for the party to end all parties. Silvia’s best friend had come to lovingly call it “the impending apocalypse.”
Silvia had to agree, it was beginning to feel like the end of the world.
She snuck up the back steps and followed her familiar path past the bedroom that was officially hers and into a part of the castle the staff avoided. Ghosts and specters roamed the halls in the stories that were whispered among the maids. Silvia was the only ghost who haunted this alcove, and the secret stairwell to which it led.
She cast a final glance back at the hallway and opened the hidden door to her secret tower retreat.
Slipping inside, her cloak fluttered around her—a reminder she’d left her window open in the early hour she’d left. Cool wind swept down the passage to her and she skipped up the steps, finally able to move as quickly as she’d wanted to previously. She and her mother had come to an agreement. Within this tower, her movements were not visible to any of her mother’s spies. In exchange, she agreed not to throw herself out the tower window in frustration.
Her mother was slowly learning that privacy was important. It had only taken twenty-eight years.
Skipping into her cluttered room, she pulled both her ball and the frog from her pockets and slung her cloak over a chair in the corner. The ball went onto the small stand she’d made for it, sitting like a metal sun over the kingdom that was her cluttered work table.
She glanced at the chaos of her projects with a smile before sitting down on the bed that had magically made itself after she’d slipped away in the morning. One of the few magical intrusions she ignored.
She held up her new toy and studied it.
The frog was beautiful.
Iron was used inside their kingdom, but no one would make a frog like this. Its tiny pieces were so intricate, she was certain they were magic. She recalled her mother speaking of the iron fairy returning to Ferrian, but she hadn’t thought she would get to see the queen’s handiwork. Nothing the iron fairy touched would be allowed by her mother.
“We’ll just have to keep you a secret, won’t we.” Setting it on her pillow, she frowned. “Why would she make a frog… and then, how did you get into the middle of our forest?”
The frog’s metal eyes stared at her, unmoving. She hadn’t expected it to answer.
Turning it around, she saw a small hole set into its back. Inside teeth waited for some sort of key… a key that she doubted she would find. If it ha
d been in the forest, there was no chance now.
She could work around that.
Snatching the frog up again, she cleared off a space amid the clutter and set him on her work table. Snatching out a pad of paper and a pen from its place near the inkwell, she set to work.
Lost in her task, she created the drawings and started to sort through her scrap metal, heedless of the time.
A floral scent wrapped around her and pulled her from her thoughts. Her gaze darted to the clock… two hours had passed. No wonder her stomach growled.
“What brings you to my lair, Mina?” she asked.
Her best friend always smelled of jasmine, honeysuckle, and some other flower she wouldn’t name. The three made up the incense she burned in her room at all times. The smoke made Silvia lightheaded in the best sort of way.
Golden brown skin, lips painted the color of blood, and a dark lace pattern tattooed around her throat and down her décolletage, Mina would never have been mistaken for a citizen of Argentelle. Her insistence on bundling up in the middle of a too-warm spring that had the rest of them sweating would have given her away if her coloring had not. Aurona was arid and too hot for Silvia’s tastes.
“Your mother is pissed.”
Wincing, Silvia grabbed another piece of metal and marked out her plans. “I shouldn’t be surprised. How was the meeting?”
“A complete nightmare. Did you know she’s inviting everyone? And I don’t just mean everyone in this kingdom. I mean everyone. Even your half-sister.”
Silvia froze. “Isabelle? I thought she was still a danger.”
Silvia didn’t know why, but her sister had been kept secret from all but the most loyal of her mother’s inner circle. Miranichelle existed in this realm again, able to protect her seemingly lost daughter, but had not interfered.
Shrugging, Mina said, “Something changed now that she married the Cyprean prince.”
“And what do you think my sister is going to do if she finds out what happened to her father?” The last time her mother had lived on the mortal plane, the iron fairy had killed the previous king and tried to kill Isabelle, too. Only quick thought and a full human child’s unfortunate death had saved her sister’s life.
Silence prevailed a moment longer than was comfortable.
“That’s new,” Mina said, ignoring her question.
Mina ran her finger over the back of the frog. “What a funny little creature. Your mother will hate it.”
“That is why my mother won’t know about it.” Silvia cast a warning glance at Mina and snatched the frog away. “What are you doing up here? You hate my room.”
“I don’t hate it, I hate the mess. You could have a servant come in and clean it up.”
“Firstly, you know the rule: no one touches my inventions but me. Secondly, that would require disclosing the existence of the room in the first place. Not going to happen.”
Shrugging, Mina played with the silver ball. “Your mother wants to see you. I think it’s about the party.”
Silvia let out a groan and turned back to her work. “Do you think if we ignore it we can make it go away?”
“Going away is the point of the party.” Mina said as she walked around the table to sit on the opposite side.
“That and trotting out the proverbial meat market. Oh how I wish my father was more like yours. It would be divine to have no pressure to marry.”
Mina smiled ruefully. “Having a harem at my beck and call is fun on occasion, but for the most part, it’s exhausting. “
“Yes, but you’ll never be forced to marry if you don’t wish it.”
Mina shrugged, nodding her head in a silent agreement. “Let’s go see your mother. If we don’t, she’ll come looking for you, and even though no one else knows how to find you here… your mother does.”
“Of course she does, she’s the one who managed to get all this furniture in here.”
Laughing, Mina stood and grabbed her by the hand, pulling her upright too. “Let’s go. If we keep her out of here, you won’t have to explain why there’s an iron frog in your possession.”
Rolling her eyes, Silvia followed her down the stairs.
Mina hummed a dissonant trio of notes and said, “Can a princess be executed for metal treason?”
“You brought gold with you, I don’t see you headed for the gallows.”
Mina laughed as she pushed open the door and led Silvia out into the palace halls to what felt like her doom.
*
Heinrich slowed his horse to a walk as he neared the broken cart. He’d taken a wrong fork and lost hours in his pursuit, but it seemed luck was on his side. Ahead of him, the men who’d ferried the prince away as they left the palace worked to fix their broken cart.
He studied them from afar, watching as they worked. One man slept beside the road, another was tucked under the sagging cart, and a third shouted unintelligible things down at him.
Nudging Vilis forward, he knew he needed to deal with the first two before the third woke up. He pushed the stallion to a full gallop and the shouting man looked up a moment before Heinrich threw himself from the horse’s saddle.
Pain seared through his chest as they dropped to the ground and Heinrich rolled away, pulling free his sword and breaking the front wheel. The cart dropped on the man beneath it and he screamed, the sound echoing into the surrounding forest. Heinrich spun, knocking the other man in the head hard enough that he stumbled backward, falling to the dirt. He didn’t get back up again.
The brief pause gave his brain time to remember that his stomach and chest were on fire. He shrank against the pain shooting through him and touched the wet spot on his shirt. Luckily the dark fabric would hide the stains when dried.
“What the—” The man behind him pushed to his feet and stared at his fallen comrades.
Confusion colored his frown. His eyes were glazed and Heinrich cursed as the woken sleeper pulled a blade from his belt. It was small, but the man was not. Neither of the other two had been lightweights either, but this one was ready for him.
He lunged, and Heinrich managed to jump out of the way. The movement sent spots through his vision and a moment later, the man attacked again.
Heinrich gagged. The man smelled like manure and dark magic. Slashing out with his sword, he kicked the man’s hand when he tried to stab beneath and the blade went flying. The man spun and dropped clumsily to the ground. Heinrich took his opportunity and pounced.
Holding the sword to the man’s throat, Heinrich asked, “Where is the frog?”
The blade pressed tightly against the thief’s throat, and the man croaked. A fitting sound, but not one Heinrich enjoyed as it came with a puff of breath soured by dark magic.
“He’s gone. The blasted thing turned into a man in the night, broke the cart and then scarpered.”
Heinrich took a moment, trying to decide if he could trust the man…. It wasn’t as if he had any incentive to lie.
Pushing the man backward, he dropped his sword. “Which way?”
The man rubbed at his throat and pointed toward a part of the forest beside the road that had been trampled.
Cursing, He kicked the man in the head, knocking him unconscious, just to be sure he wouldn’t get the idea to come after him again and whistled for his horse.
Vilis joined him, still chewing on the tall grass beside the road.
Without bothering to look back at the incapacitated men, Heinrich took hold of Vilis’ reins and led the way into the forest. Even from the road, he could see the glimmer of silver in the trees.
The road ran along the border of Argentelle and was remarkably close to the silver fairy’s palace—then again, the histories seemed confused as to whether or not the two kingdoms had always been on the edge of conflict, or if they had once been friendly. He wasn’t about to go back and ask Hagnesofia.
The forest quickly turned to metal and Heinrich flinched at every broken branch and birdcall. He was legitimately trespassing now, but i
f he found Max quickly, he could get out of the queen’s forest with no one the wiser.
He glanced at the ground before each step, but saw no sign of Max. If he had come this way in the night, his tracks had been covered over by the ever shifting forest. Even now it changed around him like the guests in a crowded ballroom trying to avoid a pariah walking in their midst.
For the moment, he counted it as a blessing. It meant he didn’t have to leave Vilis in the woods.
A branch cracked somewhere behind him and he froze. Swallowing, he glanced behind Vilis and let out a low breath. Perhaps he was paranoid.
Or not.
When he turned back, he wasn’t alone.
A woman in a deep green cloak stood in front of him, her hands cased in silver scale gloves, her bow aimed on him.
The arrow wouldn’t miss. An Argentelle knight was a thing to be feared no matter what weapon she chose.
She studied him, her head cocked to the side. “What is your business in the queen’s forest?”
He had to think quickly. The truth could result in Max’s death. The only option he had was to stall the inevitable. “I will tell that to the queen.”
“She does not like Ferrians. Even ones as pretty as you.” Smiling, she dropped her bow and pulled the arrow, stowing it back in her quiver. “As long as you come willingly, I won’t have to bind you.”
“I asked to see her. Why would I fight you?”
Shrugging, she said, “Stranger things happen in enchanted woods.”
“On my honor and my life, I will go where I’ve asked to be taken.”
She nodded and turned her back on him. Either she had complete faith in her abilities, or she saw no reason to fear him. For the moment, he would assume it was the former.
Following her through the dense foliage, he winced with every careless, stomping step she took.
They reached her horse and from there on, they rode. It was a long and meandering path back to the palace. She didn’t turn back once to make sure he was still with her. Heinrich didn’t know how to feel about that, so he ignored it.
When the path broke open to a wide, gravel drive, he glanced ahead, and forgot all about the knight who led him.