Copper Ravens(12)

Not only did it work, it also made the warrior mad. No longer content to kill Max slowly, he raised an iron fist and aimed right at Max’s chest. Max threw up his hand, and the warrior’s own hand began melting, dripping away before his eyes; if Max hadn’t had the weight of the warrior on his lungs, he would have been screaming in pain. As it was, he could hardly draw breath. Then the warrior bellowed, a rusty, grating sound, and moved enough for Max to roll out from under him. Wheezing and wincing in pain, Max finally found the breath to speak.

“Sara!” he rasped. “His head!”

“What about his head?” I didn’t get an answer, since the warrior had gotten to his knees and was raising his other, non-melty arm to strike. I screamed, Max bellowed, and assorted patrons and shopkeepers ran for cover. Then, the warrior clunked over sideways, as lifeless as a car without its engine. Behind him was the dancing pixie from the bar.

“You are safe now,” she said. “I’ve taken the spark that allows him to be.” She opened her hand, and nestled upon her palm was a small, glowing orb.

“Thank you,” I said; Max was too battered and burnt to do more than nod. “But, why risk yourself for us?”

“Do you not remember? Not so long ago, you saved me.” I took in her appearance, her long, silky hair and glimmering wings, and noted the two gaping holes in her wings.

“You’re the pixie from Ferra’s camp,” I said, and she nodded. “Will your wings heal?”

“They’ve healed as much as they will,” she replied, waving her hand as if the disfigured state of her wings hardly mattered.

“Why were they torturing you?” I remembered how she had been chained to a wooden plank, manacles around her wrists and metal spikes through her wings, and how I had used my ability to loosen her restraints. She had leapt into the air and flown away, and I hadn’t seen her since, not that I’d expected to, especially not dancing in a bar. Or rescuing us from yet another iron warrior.

“They did it because they are beasts,” she replied. “Filthy, reprehensible beasts. Iron warriors have taken many of my kind. I’m one of the few who ever returned home.”

Just when I thought the Iron Court couldn’t be any more terrible, I learned that they were trapping pixies like lightning bugs. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

She inclined her head. “Since you freed me, I’ve learned the metal warriors’ weakness, and how to exploit it. They’ll not trap me again. And I’ve told all I’ve encountered to spread the word of how the new Inheritor of Metal saved me, and how she will be the one to restore order amongst the Elementals.”

“I’m not the Inheritor,” I protested. “My sister, Sadie, is.”

Her brows furrowed. “But it was you who freed me, you who destroyed Ferra. Surely—”

“She’s right,” Max interrupted, levering himself to a sitting position. “Sadie, not Sara, is the Metal Inheritor.”

“No matter,” the pixie said. “I have owed you a favor since you freed me. We are now even.”

“I feel like I owe you now,” I said, but she shook her head furiously.

“In our world, it does not do to owe another,” she said. “If it pleases you, I will call on you if I am ever in need. But do not think that you are obliged to answer.”

“It does please me.” With that, the pixie smiled and flew away, leaving me and a slightly battered Max in the square. Since his burns had been caused by hot metal rather than fire, his chest was already healing.

“Well, that was interesting,” I said, watching her fly away. “Do you think anyone else feels like they should be doing us favors?”

“Us? No—you.” I looked quizzically at Max, so he continued, “I’m here every day, getting beat on, shoved in the dirt, and no one has ever offered me anything. Not once, not ever.” He made an awful noise in the back of his throat, then spat. “Yet they all talk about you, the copper girl that lives in a house of silver.”

“Huh.” I took this in for a moment. “But—”

“But nothing.” Max stood, wobbled a bit, then dusted himself off. “C’mon, it’s not even lunchtime. Let’s see how much more trouble we can get into.”



As it turned out, Max and I had already reached our quota of trouble for the day. After an uneventful afternoon and evening spent in the village, mostly in taverns (all devoid, to Max’s disappointment, of barely clad pixies), we returned to the manor. I’d just gotten myself washed up and into bed when Micah returned, shedding articles of clothing as he neared the bed; I suppose, when you’ve grown up with an army of silver critters constantly picking up after you, it’s an unavoidable habit. Then he was beside me, wrapping his arms around my waist as he kissed the back of my neck.