“You do not see, do you, child?” The oracle’s voice was suddenly weary. She waved a claw, and the trees retreated a bit. “I do not take pleasure in this. I truly do not wish your death. It is for the good of the Nevernever, for all of us. Your human sentiments make you blind—you would sacrifice the courts to save one child.”
“My child.”
“Exactly.” The oracle shivered, seemed to ripple in the air. Then, like she was being torn in half, her dusty, ragged body split, became two, six, twelve copies. The duplicate oracles spread out, surrounding me, their wrinkled mouths speaking as one. “You make decisions as a human and a mother, not a true queen. Mab would not hesitate to give up her progeny, even her beloved third son, if she thought he put her throne in danger.”
“I am not like Mab. And I never will be.”
“No,” the oracles agreed sadly, and raised their claws. “You will not be anything.”
They came at me all at once, a dozen ragged, jerky puppets lunging at me from all sides. I dodged one attack and lashed out with my sword at the next. The blade sheared through the thin body and the duplicate wailed, exploding into a cloud of dust. But there were so many of them, slashing and clawing at me; I felt talons catch my skin, tearing through my clothes, leaving bright strips of fire in their wake. I danced around and through them, dodging and parrying their blows like Ash had taught me, striking back when I could. But I knew I couldn’t keep this up forever.
The oracles drew back. Their numbers were smaller now, little swirls of dust dissolving in the wind, but I was hurt, too. I could feel the gashes their claws had left behind, and took deep, slow breaths, trying to focus through the pain.
One of the oracles gestured, and the tree behind me bent entirely in half and tried crushing me beneath its trunk. I dove away, feeling the impact rock the ground, and rolled to my feet, panting. The trees were groaning and swaying at weird, unnatural angles, and the oracles shuffled forward again, trying to drive me back into the forest.
This is just a dream, I thought, trying to stay calm. A dream world that the oracle controls, but a dream nonetheless. I am not going to die here. I am the Iron Queen, and if the Nevernever responds to my wishes, then I can control this nightmare, too.
The oracles surrounded me, trapping me between them and the swaying trees at my back. I took one step back and, for just a moment, closed my eyes and sent my will through the Dreaming Pool, just like I had in the Iron Realm.
“Know that I’m with you always, even if you can’t see me.”
I heard the oracles’ piercing wail as they lunged to attack me again, and jerked my eyes open.
A flash of blue light erupted between me and two of the duplicates, shearing through them as easily as paper. The rest of them jerked to a halt, as Ash lowered his sword and turned to give me a brief smile.
“You called, my queen?”
The oracles shrieked, skittering backward, arms flailing. “Impossible!” they howled as Ash stalked forward, his face hard. “How? How did you bring him here?”
“That’s a good question,” came another voice, as Puck stepped out from the trees behind me, daggers already in hand. “One minute I’m trying to decide if that doll is looking at me funny, then next, poof, here we are. And just in time, too.” He turned and smirked at the oracles, eyes gleaming. “That,” he stated, waggling his knife at one of them, “is my trick.”
The oracles screeched and flew toward us again, claws slashing. We met them in the center of the glade, the three of us, fighting side by side. Dust flew, swirling around us, as one by one, the duplicates vanished, cut down by my sword, stabbed with Puck’s daggers or pierced through the heart with a shard of ice. Until, finally, only one was left.
“Wait!” the last oracle, the real one, cried, throwing up her hands as Ash stalked toward her. “Iron Queen, wait! Spare me, I beg you! I have not told you everything. I know one last secret. Knowledge of your son and your brother, something that could save them both!”
“Ash, wait,” I called, and Ash halted, keeping his sword at the oracle’s withered chest. “More secrets, Oracle?” I asked, walking up to her, keeping my blade drawn. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“Because it is a small thing,” the oracle whispered, her sightless gaze shifting from me to Ash and back again. Puck joined us, arms crossed, a disbelieving smirk on his face. “The tiniest lynchpin, in a huge, complicated machine. But, if it is removed, the entire structure could fall, sending our world into chaos. It is the domino that begins the collapse of everything.”
“Enough,” I said, as Puck rolled his eyes dramatically. Ash didn’t move, still keeping his blade inches from the oracle’s heart, waiting for my orders. “Speak, then, Oracle. How do I stop this? Tell me, right now.”
The oracle sighed. “To save your brother, you must—”
A deafening crack ripped the branches of the tree behind us, and a giant limb came smashing down, barely three feet from where we stood. I flinched, taking my eyes off the oracle for the briefest of seconds—
* * *
—and the scene disappeared. Blinking, I gazed around, wondering what had happened, where we were. Ash and Puck stood close by, also glancing around in confusion. The oracle was nowhere to be seen.
“What the hell?” Puck exclaimed, throwing up his hands. “What the heck just happened there? I’m getting a little tired of being poofed about whenever it strikes someone’s fancy.”