“What in the name of Oberon’s ass is that?” I demanded.
“The stairs, milady,” said the guard. Now that the door was open, he was back on the other side of the hall. I couldn’t blame him. I wanted to join him, really, but that option wasn’t available at the moment. “There is only one cell, at the bottom.”
At least I wasn’t going to be descending into the dark again. The stairs on the other side of the door were white marble that matched the main receiving hall, with a polished copper banister. They curved gently down into a stairwell that would have been dim before I used the hope chest, but now seemed reasonably well-lit. If not for the rancid, iron-soaked air rising from the bottom of the stairs, I would have thought it was just another hall.
“I’ve always wanted to try this,” I said, to no one in particular.
“Milady?”
I think Tybalt realized what I was about to do as I started running for the door. I heard him groan. Then my foot was hitting the top step, and I no longer had the attention to spare. I grabbed the banister, and slung my leg over the smooth copper path. I looked back as I started to slide. The last thing I saw as I accelerated down the stairs was the guard, staring at me in bewilderment, and Tybalt, shaking his head in obvious amusement. Then I turned, and focused on what was ahead of me.
Riding a banister down an unknown number of steps is more nerve-racking than I’d ever guessed it would be. I clung onto it with both hands, using the friction from my fingers to slow myself as much as I could. It wasn’t much. Gravity had me now, and gravity wanted me to pay for my sins.
Whatever they were, I hoped I’d be done paying for them soon. The sliding uncontrollably down into an iron-filled dungeon was unique enough to be interesting, but I’d be carrying Nolan back up every one of those stairs. Plus, I had no brakes. I was just going to have to wait for the moment when something stopped me.
“I hope it’s a wall,” I muttered. The wind generated by my slide whipped my words away, and I slid on in silence. I was just starting to think I’d made a serious mistake when the banister came to an end. For a few dazzling seconds, I wasn’t falling anymore—I was flying.
And then I slammed into the floor, cracking my head against it, and the world went away, replaced by a field of dazzling white agony. I groaned, struggling to sit up. My palms pressed flat against the floor, and a sizzling sound hit my ears a second before the pain raced up my arms. I scrambled to my feet, finally fully registering the hellish scene around me.
The room was made entirely of iron.
The stairs were marble, as was a narrow path wending from the bottom step to the room’s single door. Everything else, the walls, the floor, even the chandelier hanging above me, was made of iron. I dove for the path.
“What in name of the root and the branch?” I whimpered, taking only a trickle of comfort in the profanity. This much iron wasn’t cruelty; it was a passive assassination attempt. No pureblood could have survived the fall I’d just taken, even if they healed with my preternatural speed. The iron would have damaged them too much, and they’d never have made it back to the path. As it was, my head was throbbing, and my cheek felt like it was starting to blister. The iron in this room was thick enough that I wasn’t healing.
That just meant I needed to get out of here. Keeping my feet within the narrow bounds of the marble path, I started for the door.
“This is stupid,” I muttered. “This isn’t even good stupid. This is Bond villain stupid. This is Willy Wonka stupid. Who keeps a pit full of their personal Kryptonite in their own damn house? It’s stupid. If we weren’t already deposing her, I’d be tempted, just because this is so stupid.”
Muttering helped. It was easier to stay angry when I muttered, and staying angry helped keep me from focusing on the pain that was threatening to consume my entire body. My lungs hurt, too, aching from the iron I was pulling in with every single breath.
The door wasn’t locked. I suppose there was no good reason it should have been. Anyone who’d been in this place for more than an hour wouldn’t have had the strength to get up and open it.
The chamber on the other side was small, and like the room before it, was completely encased in iron. The marble path extended into the chamber, stopping and widening slightly at the center, into a circle almost large enough to let a human-sized bipedal adult sit down comfortably. Danny would have been forced to stand or burn if he’d been thrown in here.
Ironically, Nolan’s elf-shot condition had put him into a better state than most. He was still asleep, and was stretched out on the path, with his head on the marble at the center of the circle. “Let’s go,” I muttered, grabbing his ankles. He could have died from iron poisoning. He still might, if he didn’t get care. But by not depositing him directly on the iron, the Queen’s men retained enough deniability that neither they, nor their mistress, could be charged with a breach of the Law.
It was conniving and spiteful, and I was going to have one hell of a time not hitting someone when I finally managed to get Nolan up the stairs.
My head was spinning from the iron, and dragging him along the marble path was a slow, difficult process, made harder by the fact that I was starting to have trouble breathing. I let go of him as soon as we were back in the main room, putting my hands against my knees and bending double as I struggled against the dizziness and gray blurriness threatening to overwhelm me. Everything was turning fuzzy, and my head was still throbbing. My feet had gone numb. That was probably a blessing in disguise.
“Think, October.” What did I have? I had a silver knife. I had a leather jacket. I had the remaining blood lozenges. I had—
Blood lozenges. The blood in my veins was thick with iron, but Walther had frozen some of it before I was exposed. The blood gems might be tainted with goblin fruit. That was okay. I had the hope chest now; I could fix it. I withdrew the baggie from my pocket, undoing the seal. I couldn’t seem to make my shaking fingers close on a single gem. Finally, I shook my head, muttered, “Fuck it,” and dumped the remaining contents of the baggie into my mouth.
As before, the blood gems dissolved when they hit my tongue, leaving behind the taste of mint and lavender. That was the only thing that was like before, because then, I’d been trying to keep myself standing. I’d been mostly human. Now, I was more fae than I’d ever been, and I was looking for strength. The blood, dilute as it was, was happy to give it to me.
Feeling flooded back into my feet and hands as the bruises from my impact with the floor healed. Unfortunately, since no amount of blood could make me immune to iron, the feeling consisted mostly of pain. I didn’t have time to worry about that. I could feel the blood flowing through me, strengthening me. I could also feel how little time I had. More of my strength than I’d realized was going toward keeping me upright against the onslaught of iron.
“Come on, Sleeping Beauty,” I said, and bent, struggling to hoist Nolan into a fireman’s carry. He was a relatively short man, only a few inches taller than I was, and he was slender—spending a few decades asleep is a hell of a diet plan, even for the immortal. That didn’t make it any easier to deadlift him from the floor onto my shoulders.
When he was finally in place I turned, staggering, and hissed as the edge of my foot slipped off the marble path onto the iron. I pulled it back, regarding the stairs with the sort of loathing customarily reserved for my worst enemies. In that moment, I hated them more than I’d hated anything else in years.
“You’d better be worth it, Your Highness,” I said, and started to climb.
It said something about the oppressive weight of iron at the bottom of the stairs that I actually started to feel a little better as I climbed. The air was still chokingly laced with the stuff, and it would kill me if I stayed too long, but it was better than what we were walking away from.