The Wood Queen (11 page)

Thinking this was a strange thing to be talking about at a time like this—even for Nav—Donna decided to humor him. Sort of. “Really? That’s nice. Acceptance by
the very people who call you a commoner and treat you like trash.”

Surprise crossed Navin’s face, no doubt at the venom in her tone. “No, I mean … I think he
liked
me.” He slow-winked, and then grinned.

“I know, you already—” Donna stopped talking, finally getting it. “Oh! You mean he
liked
you.”

“Definitely.” He looked almost proud. “I’m attractive to both sexes, baby! I’m a metrosexual.”

She snorted. “That is
so
not the right word.” But she couldn’t help smiling back at him. Shaking her head, she gave up on trying to get her friend to talk sense. In all honesty, she was just glad to have him back by her side—they were a team, and she hoped they always would be.

Navin, meanwhile, had crossed the laboratory and was rummaging through the paperwork on a cluttered workbench. “Maybe there’s something here that will tell you more about Simon.”

“There’s bound to be lots of stuff that will tell me all kinds of things about him. The problem is, I don’t really know what I’m looking for.”
And it’s not Simon I really want to find out about
, she thought guiltily. She needed to find evidence—information—anything to support what Aliette had told her about opening the door to Faerie. Only she hadn’t actually told Nav about that. Yet.

He stretched up on tiptoe to a wooden shelf high above the bench and ran his hand along it.

Oh. Crap.

She had a sickening feeling of déjà vu.

Donna leapt toward Navin, cursing herself for letting him wander around and touch things without her sticking close by. It felt as if she was moving in slow motion; or maybe she was the one moving at regular speed and everything else around her had slowed down. Either way, it seemed to be taking forever for her to run from one side of the laboratory to the other.

She could see Navin reaching, trying to see what was on the shelf above his head. She felt her legs move and her arms reach out, even as she watched her friend’s fingers touch the base of the bronze statue and move it to the very edge of the rough-hewn shelf.

The statue toppled and began to fall—

—and as it fell, it started screaming.

Donna had been here before, with Xan, but as the screaming bronze head tumbled toward Navin, she realized that the danger was even greater than being discovered: the lump of carved bronze was heavy enough to give Navin a concussion.

She reached him as the statue hit his outstretched arms—despite his shock, he’d managed to deflect the thing—and grabbed him. There was a clash of bodies as she tackled him to the ground and the statue landed beside them with a solid thump of metal on stone.

“Shit!” Navin gasped from his position sprawled on the cold floor, Donna on top of him. “Get off me, Underwood. You weigh a ton.”

“Excuse
me
, I just saved your ass. Well, your head.”

They both turned to look at the bronze carving. It was lying on its side on the stone floor beside them. It was staring right at them from hollow eyes. At least it had shut up when it hit the ground.

“Ugh. That thing is so creepy.” Donna repressed a shudder.

Navin was busy climbing to his feet, reaching down to pull her with him. “I take it you’ve met before,” he said dryly.

“Sort of.” She dusted down her jeans and checked for damage. Apart from a faint throbbing coming from her hip, she was unhurt. “Are you okay?” It seemed Navin hadn’t been so lucky; he was holding his left arm awkwardly.

“Smashed my elbow on the floor, but no permanent damage.” He moved it gingerly, showing her that nothing was broken.

Donna gazed down at the statue. She remembered how they’d made it shut up before—Xan had stamped a heavily booted foot down on it, and that had seemed to do the trick.

Edging closer, she nudged it with the toe of her sneaker.

“Hey!” The voice sounded stretched thin somehow, like it was coming from somewhere far away. She remembered
hearing it speak in answer to Simon’s commands, and it creeped her out now just as much as it did back then. “Get your stinking feet off me,” it said.

Navin’s face drained of color. “Woah. Did that thing just say something?”

Donna raised her eyebrows. “Why so surprised? You heard it scream on the way down.”

He shook his head, gazing at the statue in horrified fascination. “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t really think the sound was coming from … it.” He met her gaze, his eyes glittering wildly. “It’s an ‘it,’ right? It kind of looks like a
him
.”

Donna shook her head. “I honestly have no idea what it is, but I suppose it does look like a man’s face.”

The statue had a hooked nose and a strong chin. Its head was carved with a strange hat—more like a skull-cap—that looked like it belonged in another century.

And this time, the horrible thing was actually
talking
to them. It was beyond freaky.

“What’s the matter,” the statue said. “Cat got your tongue?”

Its mouth didn’t open when it spoke, but its strange voice was still coming from between the thin golden lips. Donna’s stomach turned over when she realized that the only part of the bronze head that did move was its eyes.

She glared at it, refusing to be afraid of a lump of metal. “I’ve just never heard a statue speak before.” She felt vaguely ridiculous talking to a head on the floor, but this was the state of her life right now. She shouldn’t really
be surprised at the whole new level of crazy she’d just achieved. Perhaps it was something to be proud of, she thought, more than a little hysterically.

Navin crouched down next to the head. “Do you want me to put you back on the shelf?”

“Touch me and I’ll scream for the Magus,” it retorted. “Leave me right where I am, and he’ll know his precious lab has been infiltrated.”

Donna scowled. “Just pick it up, Nav.”

“Oh, I like how it’s
me
that has to touch it. You’re the one wearing gloves …”

“And you just asked the damn thing if it wanted to go back on the shelf. What, were you volunteering
me
for the job?”

The statue cleared its throat. Or at least, Donna thought, if it
had
a throat that’s what it sounded like it was doing. “If you would kindly stop talking about me as if I wasn’t here and leave the laboratory, maybe I’ll tell the Magus that I fell on my own.”

Navin snorted. “Yeah, like I believe that.”

“Believe what you want, young man,” it said in an offended sort of tone. “I don’t care one way or the other.”

Donna sighed and bent down to grab the statue. She didn’t give herself time to think; she just wanted the thing off the floor and back where it belonged. Even if it
was
going to tell Simon about his uninvited guests, there was something about the bronze head lying down there on its side that was sort of pathetic.

She scooped it up, ignoring the spluttered protests, and placed it on one of the shelves. She couldn’t reach the top one, but managed to push it onto the wooden shelf below. Perhaps Simon wouldn’t notice his magical alarm system had been disturbed.

Yeah, she could hope. Maybe she should brush the dust off the top shelf; there was bound to be a clean space where the head usually sat.

Just as she was wondering this, the statue fixed her with its sinister eyes. The dark and hollow spaces had deep-set, carved eyeballs with black pupils that flickered, almost as though they were projected onto the bronze by a camera set up opposite the shelf. She almost wanted to look over her shoulder, just to check—to see if this was some sort of elaborate trick—but she knew it was pointless. The eyes had moved while the head was lying on the floor, too, so there was no way it was anything other than what it seemed to be: a living bronze statue.

Of course, that didn’t mean that was what it actually
was
, but that’s certainly what it
seemed
like.

“Do you have a name?” Navin asked. He was looking less pale, much to Donna’s relief.

“Of course I have a name. All spirits have names.” There was no mistaking the offended tone of the statue’s voice.

Donna couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice. “You’re a spirit?”

“What did you think I was? A statue? A …
living statue
?” Spooky noises emitted from the bronze head, almost as though the stupid thing was laughing at her.

Donna scowled. “Well, you can hardly blame us. And last time we met, all you did was scream and bring Simon down here.”

The statue sniffed. “That is my job. I’m the Magus’ personal protection system for all his ridiculous experiments. Do you have any idea how demeaning my life has become? The only company I have—apart from Gaunt—is Slow Henry over there.” The statue rolled its eyes. “And let me tell you, they don’t call him Slow Henry for nothing.”

Donna thought her brain might explode with the weirdness, but she tried to keep it together. “So, are you going to tell us your name?”

Navin’s shoulder touched hers as he stepped nearer. Donna figured he was trying to protect her, and although she didn’t exactly need his protection, she had to admit that it felt nice to have him close by.

The statue’s eyes flicked between them, making a creepy clicking sound. “You may call me Newton.”

“As in, Isaac Newton, the alchemist?” Donna almost laughed. “Please tell me you’re being ironic.”

“It’s one of my best features,” Newton replied. “Of course it’s ironic, you stupid girl. I can’t just give out my true name, because then Gaunt could trap me here forever. At least this way I still have a chance.”

Nav rubbed a hand across his face. “And you’re a spirit? What kind of spirit?”

Newton opened his eyes wide. “A
demon
. Oooh, scary!” If he could grin, Donna was sure that’s what he’d be doing.

She also wondered when she’d started thinking of it as a “he.”

Navin went quiet and just stared at her. The expression on his face clearly said,
Oh my God, what is going on, please tell me this is all a bad dream.

Donna touched his arm in what she hoped was a reassuring gesture. She addressed the statue, trying to figure this out. “You’re a demon? In a statue …” She didn’t know much about the demons—apart from the fact that they existed. But they were in their own realm, she’d been told, just as the majority of the fey were safely locked away in Faerie. That’s the way it worked. Humans in the Earth realm, the fey in Faerie, and demons in … Hell. There wasn’t really a human name for the demons’ true home, but sometimes Donna had seen it referred to in alchemical texts as the Otherworld—sort of a shamanic term, from what she understood, and many alchemists preferred that name to “Hell,” which had too many Christian connotations.

Newton gave her an almost sympathetic look. “I realize this is difficult for your tiny human mind to comprehend, but this lump of ugly metal is merely a vessel. I’m a demon. Not a very important one, admittedly, but still … the Magus summoned me and trapped me here.”

A wave of nausea washed over Donna, making her knees weak. Aliette’s words shrieked in the back of her
mind, but she tried to block them out. If it turned out that the Wood Queen was the only person actually telling her the truth about anything, she might start hyperventilating.

She shook her head. “No way! Even Simon, much as I can’t stand him, wouldn’t deal with demons.” She was trying to convince herself as much as anyone else.
If it were only as simple as mere summoning
, Aliette had said.

Now it was Navin’s turn to reassure her. His arm went around her shoulders as they stood talking to a bronze statue that claimed to be a trapped demon.

Newton’s black eyes clicked. “If you want to deny the evidence of your own eyes, I wouldn’t
dream
of getting in the way.”

“But what does he want with you?”

“Power,” the statue intoned. “What else is there?”

Donna was more than a little sick of finding herself stuck in the middle of complex power struggles. And it seemed the dynamic now involved three factions—until now, she’d believed the demons weren’t contenders. Not
really
. Sure, they were the ones who’d set the tithe that effectively kept all of the fey disenfranchised, but that wasn’t exactly something that the alchemists worried about.

But Newton’s presence here seemed to go a long way toward confirming the Wood Queen’s sinister hints—which meant demons were part of the power games being played out in Ironbridge.
And who knows where else?

Donna took a deep breath. She needed to concentrate—Newton could have information about opening the
door to Faerie, or even about her own powers, if she could find a way to get it out of him. Out of it.
Whatever.

Nav was glancing between the two of them, but for once seemed to lack something smart to say.

The statue’s eyes drifted shut. “If that’s all you got, you can leave me to catch forty winks. Don’t slam the door on your way out, children.”

“Wait,” Donna said, stepping forward. “I have questions.”

“Don’t we all, dear,” Newton mocked.

She let that go. “How long have you been here?”

Click
. Eyes open again. “How long have
you
been here?” Newton asked.

Navin shifted behind her. “He’s jerking you around, Don. We should just get the hell out while we still can.”

“Nice,” Newton said. “Get
you
, taking the mother country’s name in vain.”

Donna frowned at the bronze head. “Actually, I was being serious.”

“So was I. How long I’ve been here is irrelevant. Get to the point.”

Her stomach clenched. Newton was waiting for … something. She just needed to find the right question. She was sure of it. “The point? Okay, I’ll get to the point. You listen to what goes on in here, right?”

If its face could sneer, that’s exactly what it would be doing. “You call that getting to the point? I’ll answer one question—
anything
to relieve the boredom, you understand—but I will only answer a good one.”

Then it blinked twice. It was so creepy, but Donna resisted the visceral urge to retreat.

“Someone’s coming,” Newton added.

“What?
Who?” Heart pounding, Donna looked behind her as though she half-expected to see Simon Gaunt standing right there, all smug and eager with his glasses steamed up.

“A crow. Flying toward you, little Underwood.”

Navin’s hand tightened on Donna’s arm, and they looked at one another for a moment.

She grimaced. “He might mean Robert. They probably sent him to collect me from the Blue Room.”

“Better get moving then, kids. Don’t want to get caught out after curfew.” The statue’s voice had turned mocking again.

“Don, seriously …”

She waved Nav away. “Just another minute.” She took another step forward, bringing her within inches of Newton’s cruel features. She gazed into the blank depths of those inhuman eyes. There was no time to think; no more time for anything but the question she was allowed to ask. She couldn’t even worry about Navin hearing it.

Donna stripped off her left glove and held her hand in front of the statue’s eyes. The magical silver wound lazily around her arm. This time, she didn’t even notice that the tattoos had started moving.

“Apart from
these
,” she said, clenching her fist to punctuate the words, “apart from these iron markings, what is it that makes me the Iron Witch?”

“Ah, a
good
question. At last.” Newton sounded almost impressed.

Painfully aware of Nav’s anxiety to leave, Donna did her best to tune him out. “Is it a question you’re going to answer?”

“The answer you seek is already inside you.”

Her heart sank like a stone. “What kind of Zen crap is that? Who do you think you are,
Yoda
?”

“I know what you want, and my answer stands: you have already activated your powers, girl. There’s nothing more I can tell you.”

Scowling, Donna turned away. “Come on, Nav. This is a waste of time.”

He hesitated. “Should we just … leave it here like this? As Simon’s slave? It’s as trapped as we are.”

“I can hardly fit him in my bag.” Not that she would; that horrible thing had just played her for a fool.