The Iron Knight

“I know.” I sighed, glancing back at the glade, knowing she watched me, even now. “I know.”

ARIELLA WAS WAITING FOR US when we returned, standing under the elder tree, talking to the empty branches. At least, it was empty until two golden eyes appeared through the leaves, blinking lazily as we came in. Grimalkin yawned as he sat up, curling his tail around his feet, and regarded us solemnly. “Made your decision, have you?” he purred, digging his claws into the branch holding him up. “Good. All this agonizing was getting rather trite. Why does it take so long for humans and gentry to choose one path or the other?”

Puck blinked at him. “Oh, let me guess. You knew Ariella was here all along.”

“Your kind does have a flair for stating the obvious.”

Ariella was watching me, her expression unreadable. “What is your decision, Ash of the Winter Court?”

I drew close enough to see her face, realizing it hadn’t changed in all the years she’d been gone. She was still beautiful, her face lovely and perfect, though there were shadows in her gaze that hadn’t been before. “You told me you knew the way to becoming mortal,” I said softly, watching for her reaction. Her eyes tightened a bit, but her expression remained neutral otherwise. “I made a promise,” I said softly. “I swore to Meghan that I’d find a way to return. I can’t walk away from that, even if I want to. I need to know how to become mortal.”

“Then it is decided.” Ariella closed her eyes for a long moment. When she spoke, her voice was low and distant, and it raised the hair on the back of my neck. “There is a place,” she murmured, “that resides at the end of the Nevernever. Beyond the Briars that surround Faery, beyond the very edge of our world, the ancient Testing Grounds have stood since the beginning of time. Here, the Guardian awaits those who would escape Faery forever, who wish to leave the world of dreams and enter the human realm. But to do so, they must endure the gauntlet. None who accepted this challenge returned sane, if they returned at all. But legend states that if you can survive the trials, the Guardian will offer the key to becoming mortal. The gauntlet will be your test, and the prize will be … your soul.”

“My … soul?”

Ariella regarded me solemnly. “Yes. A soul is the essence of humanity. It is what we lack to become mortal, and as such, we cannot truly understand humans. We were born from their dreams, their fears and imaginations. We are the product of their hearts and minds. Without a soul we are immortal, yet empty. Remembered, we exist. Forgotten, we die. And when we die, we simply fade away, as if we never existed at all. To become human is to have a soul. It is that simple.”