Iron Fey. Julie Kagawa

with amusement. “Cut your losses and try again some other time. Right now, we need to be going.”

      The faery’s eyes still glimmered black, but she made a visible effort to control herself. “Very well,” she said with great dignity. “I will uphold my end of the bargain. Wait here a moment. I need to inform David that I’ll be gone for a bit.”

      She stalked away with her chin in the air, her spines quivering like icicles.

      “Very clever,” Grimalkin said softly as the faery marched toward the bar. “Shard has always been too rash, never pausing to listen for important details. She thinks she is too smart for that. Still, it is never wise to anger a Winter sidhe. You might regret your little battle of wits before this is over. The fey never forget an insult.”

      I remained silent, watching Shard lean over and whisper something to the satyr. David looked up at me, eyes narrowing, before jerking his head once and turning to wipe the counter.

      Shard returned. Her eyes were normal again, though they still glared at me with cold dislike. “This way,” she announced frostily, and led us across the room, toward the Staff Only door on the far wall.

      We followed her down five or six flights of stairs, pausing at another door with the words Danger! Keep Out! painted on the surface in bright red. Shard looked back at me with an evil little smile.

      “Don’t mind Grumly. He’s our last deterrent against those who poke their noses where they don’t belong. Occasionally, some phouka or redcap will think themselves clever, and sneak past David to see what’s down here. Obviously, I can’t have that. So, I use Grumly to dissuade them.” She chuckled. “Sometimes, a mortal will find his way down here, as well. That’s the best entertainment. It cuts down on his food bill, too.”

      She gave me a razor-sharp grin and pushed the door open.

      The stench hit me like a giant hammer, a revolting mix of rot and sweat and excrement. I recoiled, and my stomach heaved. Bones littered the stone floor, some human, some decidedly not. A pile of dirty straw lay in one corner, next to a door on the far wall. I knew that was the entrance to the Unseelie territory, but reaching it would be a real challenge.

      Chained to a ring in the floor, manacled by one tree-stump leg, was the biggest ogre I’d ever seen. His skin was bruise purple, and four yellow tusks curled from his lower jaw. His torso was massive, muscles and tendons rippling under his mottled hide, and his thick fingers ended in curved black claws.

      He also wore a heavy collar around his throat, the skin underneath red and raw, showing old scars where he’d clawed at it. A moment later, I realized both the collar and the manacles were made of iron. The ogre limped across the room, favoring the chained leg as he moved, his ankle festering with blisters and open sores. Grimalkin gave a small hiss.

      “Interesting,” he said. “Is the ogre really that strong, to be bound that way?”

      “He’s escaped a few times in the past, before we started using the iron,” Shard replied, looking pleased with herself. “Smashed the club to bits, and ate a few patrons before we stopped him. I thought drastic measures were called for. Now he behaves himself.”

      “It is killing him.” Grimalkin’s voice was flat. “You must realize this will considerably shorten his life span.”

      “Don’t lecture me, Grimalkin.” Shard gave the cat a disgusted look and stepped through the door. “If I didn’t keep him here, he’d only be rampaging somewhere else. The iron won’t kill him right away. Ogres heal so fast.”

      She sauntered up to the ogre, who glared at her with pain-filled yellow eyes. “Move,” she ordered it, pointing toward the pile of straw in the corner. “Go to your bed, Grumly. Now.”

      The ogre stared at her, snarled feebly, and shuffled to his bed, the chain clinking behind him. I couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him.

      Shard opened the door. A long hallway stretched beyond the door, and mist flowed through the opening into the room.

      “Well?” she called back to us. “Here’s your trod to the Winter territory. Are you going to stand there or what?”

      Keeping a wary eye on Grumly, I started forward.

      “Wait,” Grimalkin muttered.

      “What’s the matter?” I turned and found him scanning the room, eyes narrowed to slits. “Afraid of the ogre? Shard will keep him off us, right?”

      “Not at all,” the cat replied. “Her bargain is done. She just opened the path to Tir Na Nog for us. She never promised us protection.”

      I looked into the room again and found Grumly staring at us, drool dripping to the floor from his teeth. On the other side, Shard was smirking at me.

      There was a sudden clatter on the stairs, the sound of many feet skipping down the steps. Over the railing, a wrinkled, evil face peered down at me, shark-teeth gleaming. A red bandanna fell off its head to land at my feet.

      “Redcaps,” I gasped, stepping into the room without thinking.

      Grumly roared, surging to the end of his chain, raking the ground with his claws. I yelped and flattened myself against the wall as the ogre snarled and slashed at the air, straining to reach me. His huge fists pounded the floor not ten feet away, and he bellowed in frustration. I couldn’t move. Grimalkin had disappeared. Shard’s laughter rang in the air as a dozen redcaps swarmed into the room.

      “Now,” she said, leaning against the door frame, “this is entertainment.”

      CHAPTER FIFTEEN

       Puck’s Return

      The redcaps crowded through the doorway, teeth flashing in the dim light. They wore biker jackets and leather pants, and sported crimson bandannas instead of their trademark caps. Snarling and gnashing their teeth, they spotted Grumly at the same time the ogre noticed them, and leaped back as a huge fist pounded the pavement.

      Snarls and curses rose in the air. The redcaps danced madly out of the ogre’s reach, brandishing bronze knives and wooden baseball bats. “What is this?” I heard one of them screech. “Goat-man promised us young flesh if we followed the stairs. Where’s our meat?”

      “There!” snarled another, pointing at me with what looked like a tarnished shiv. “In the corner. Don’t let the monster get our meat!”

      They slid toward me, hugging the wall as I had done, keeping out of the ogre’s grasp. Grumly roared and slashed the ground, raking deep trenches into the cement floor, but the redcaps were small and quick, and he couldn’t reach them.

      I watched in horror as the hideous fey swarmed toward me, laughing and waving their weapons, and I couldn’t move. I was about to be eaten alive, but if I ventured any farther into the room, Grumly would tear me apart.

      Through it all, I was aware of Shard, lounging in the other doorway, a self-satisfied smirk on her face. “Do you like where our contract has gone, little bitch?” she called over the bellows of Grumly and the clattering teeth of the redcaps. “Throw me your real name, and I might call them off.”

      One of the redcaps leaped at me, jaws gaping, springing right for my face. I threw up my arm, and the jagged teeth sank into my flesh, clamping down like a steel trap. Shrieking, I flailed wildly, dislodging the repulsive weight and flinging it at the ogre. The redcap hit the ground and leaped to his feet snarling, just as Grumly’s fist smashed him into bloody paste.

      Time seemed to slow down. I guess that happens when you’re about to die. The redcaps surged forward, shark teeth grinning and clacking, Grumly bellowed at the end of his chain, and Shard leaned against the door frame and laughed.

      A huge black bird flapped through the open door.

      The redcaps leaped.

      The bird dove, sinking its talons into a redcap’s face, shrieking and flapping its wings. Startled and confused,