I smiled and leaned against his shoulder. “I suppose you have a point.” He accepted his win gracefully and kissed my hair. “I just like seeing something of me here. Everything’s so silver.”
“What would you like?” Micah asked. “To be copper, that is.”
“Anything?”
“For my Sara, anything.”
“Hmm.” I considered my request carefully, not wanting to waste what might be my only redecorating opportunity on something frivolous. Maybe a spiral staircase of polished copper would enhance the place, or that roof I’d once coveted? Before I came up with any good ideas, we heard yet another commotion, this one coming from the opposite side of the garden. I really needed to start chucking salt over my shoulder to ward off these sorts of days.
Micah leapt up and ran toward the noise. I followed close behind, but we both halted when we saw the source of this latest uproar. Of course, it was Max, who was fending off a gang of iron warriors.
“Max!” I shrieked.
“They followed me!” he yelled, ducking to avoid a punch. There were four—no, make that five—iron warriors surrounding my brother, with the remains of two others lying nearby. The warriors were huge, monstrous creations, each one of them tall and broad, with a mouthful of teeth like broken saw blades. Not to mention, all of their punches were death blows.
Max, by comparison, was positively puny. I’d like to say that my brother was holding his own against the mob, but, well-honed as his abilities might be, he could only disable one iron man at a time. The warriors had apparently caught on to his weakness, for while one attacked him head-on, the others closed in from behind, harrying him and getting in those cheap shots that added up to blood loss and exhaustion.
I had no idea what to do or how to help my brother, when all at once, the iron warriors stopped moving and became little more than metal sculptures decorating the garden. Max’s confused face let me know that he hadn’t engineered this turn of events. Since I knew that I hadn’t done anything but jump up and down and flap my arms, I glanced to the side. I flinched when I saw Micah’s outstretched hand, his silver eyes boiling in fury.
“They followed you?” Micah said, his voice rumbling like a volcano moments before the eruption. “Where did they follow you from?”
“The village,” Max said. I realized that he couldn’t move either, also thanks to my consort. I’d never seen Micah so angry, and I was amazed that he could hold all six individuals completely immobile. I was awed by his control, his strength, and more than a bit frightened. “Sara and I saw one the other day—”
“The one whose spark was taken by the pixie,” I interjected.
“And you went looking for more,” Micah deduced. When Max remained silent, Micah continued, “You sought out the henchmen of my greatest enemy, and led them to my home?”
“I wanted to know who they work for now!” Max shouted. “I thought—”
“No, Max, you did not think.” Micah approached the warriors, and their heads creaked around to face him. “Whom do you serve?” he demanded of the iron men.
“The Iron Queen,” they answered in unison.
“Are you aware that she is dead?”
“It does not matter,” replied the one who’d lunged at Max. “She created us, and we will carry out her will.”
“Will anything deter you from this course?”
“Nothing, unless we are remade.”
Micah nodded, then squeezed his hand closed. The warrior’s mouth clamped inward on itself, his jaw crushed and dented so badly that he might never speak again.
“As he stated,” Micah continued, as he turned to face my brother, “any metal creatures created by Ferra are honor bound to carry out their mistress’ commands. Do you know anything of honor, Max?” Max opened his mouth, but Micah didn’t give him the chance to reply. “No, of course you don’t. Otherwise, you would not have acted so foolishly. You would not have acted so recklessly and brought danger to your family’s doorstep.” Micah stepped before Max, using his advantage of height to stare down at him. “Had you bothered to ask me, I would have told you that, like as not, any iron warrior would attempt to kill a Raven on sight. Any Raven, your sisters and mother included. I do know more of the ways of metal than you, boy.”
I could see Max fuming, but he knew he was wrong. The evidence lay heaped up around him like a supernatural scrap yard. “I just thought—”
“We have already established that you do not think,” Micah spoke over him. “I do understand. You wanted to prove yourself the hero. You failed.” Now Micah leaned into Max’s face, not stopping until he was a hair’s breadth away from him. “My patience with you grows thin. Take care that it doesn’t grow thinner.”