My comfort disappears when his lips brush my cheek and, with a cold glint in his eyes, he says, “You may come to regret your suggestion.”
Chapter Fifteen
Thyra
Ican’t stop the shiver racing down my spine as Antony promises me I’ll have regrets.
The Iron Forges are bound to be a dangerous place. I have no idea what I’m headed toward. Meeting his mother suddenly seems like a much better option.
Too late now.
The giant blue eagle circles the forge buildings, carving a neat path around the myriad smoke stacks rising from each of them.
Rust-colored smoke rises from each stack, but it disperses straight up, contained within what appear to be translucent funnels reaching high into the sky, the smoke swirling within them.
I’ve never considered before exactlyhowthe Iron Fae forge their iron or how they manage the danger involved.
The smoke itself doesn’t sparkle. There’s no sign it’s contaminated with iron dust. But the height of the funnels indicates the Iron Fae aren’t taking any chances that particles of ironmight float across the city.
The lower we fly, the more details I can make out, although the final descent is a rush that lifts my stomach, and I’m forced to close my eyes and abandon my study.
A moment later, we’ve landed, the rush of wind halting, replaced with a soft breeze whispering across my face and arms while the afternoon sunlight keeps me warm but, surprisingly, not hot.
My eyes fly open as I rapidly assess my new surroundings.
We’ve landed on a bright white platform, the tallest of those that make up the Iron Forges. It appears to be made from the same brilliant stone as the towers in the Constellation, and it’s wide enough that it extends for a hundred feet in every direction. The eagle has set down at a point that’s near perfect to the platform’s center, facing a small hut-like structure on the platform’s far side.
I expected a multitude of fae to appear and rush toward us, but there’s nobody else here.
I glance to the left, and the Constellation towers rise majestically on that side. It’s impossible to know if Antony’s detour has caused a flurry.
Before I have time to catch my breath, his arm tightens around my chest, and his voice sounds in my ear. “If you want help, you must ask for it.”
I consider how far away the ground is. When he’d whisked me up onto this eagle, he was moving fast, and I’d clung to him, my chest to his and my arms and legs wrapped firmly around his body.
Now, the bird cranes its neck back to stare at me, its red eyes gleaming, as if it’s challenging me to risk a final fall.
“Just with getting down?” I ask, refusing to lower my eyes from the bird’s face. “Or for anything I need help with?”
Antony seems pleased that I asked for clarification, the corner of his mouth rising slyly. “With anything.”
The bird shakes its head in Antony’s direction, a gesture I can’t interpret, before it looks away again.
“I would like help getting down,” I say, and then add, as a precaution, “Please.”
Antony gives a soft chuckle. “Pleaseis optional.” In the next breath, he says, “Turn around on your own, and I’ll help you.”
“And risk falling? No, thank you.” I honestly have no idea how I turned around the first time without falling off, but I remember him supporting me during the maneuver.
I recall more clearly thethumpof vampyrs against his body and the way he held himself off me each time they flew at him.
I remember the stomach-churning scent filling the air, a burning stench I’ve never inhaled before. It was nothing like the scent of burning iron, more like the ghastly smell of rotted flesh.
The awful memories halt abruptly when Antony’s voice sounds again, softer this time, his lips closer to my ear. “Then ask for help.”
My eyes narrow. He may have told me thatpleaseis optional, but it seems he was serious about me asking for help witheverything.
I consider whether I could actually turn on my own. I’ll need to swing one leg over the bird’s back, but the muscles in my legs are cramping, and I’m not sure I wouldn’t slip forward or, worse, back. If I thought I’d land on a soft surface, I’d be willing to risk it, but the white stone increases the chances I’ll crack my ankles if I fall badly.
