Iron Crowned by Richelle Mead Page A

night,” he said. I was pretty sure there was an accusatory tone in his voice.
    I opened the cupboards, rummaging for food. I was suddenly starving. “Well, rest easy. I’ll be gone soon enough, right after I get dinner.”
    Lara turned and peered over the couch’s back. “Pop-Tarts aren’t—oh my God! What happened to you?” Tim noticed my bandages now too. He didn’t look as shocked as her—he saw me come home after fights a lot—but worry had replaced his snark.
    “What have you been doing?”
    “Earning the mortgage.” I put two blueberry Pop-Tarts in the toaster. “Isn’t that what you told me to do?”
    “Jesus, Eug. I didn’t—”
    “Forget it,” I told him. “Everything’s fine. But you’re going to have to send a bill to Jenna Benson, Lara. I wasn’t able to collect.”
    Lara nodded without a word, still aghast at seeing what my real life looked like. I poured some water and choked down one of the antibiotics while waiting for the Pop-Tarts. As soon as they were done, I retreated to my room, eating quickly as I threw together an overnight bag. While I was packing, my eyes lingered on a half-finished puzzle on my desk. I sighed. How long ago had I started that one? A month ago? I loved jigsaw puzzles. I used to do one a night.
    I was almost finished packing—I even included the first aid supplies, thanks to some residual mom-guilt—when the temperature dropped. An unsettling yet familiar presence filled the room, and soon Volusian appeared before me. I nearly dropped the bag.
    “Mistress,” he said with a mock bow. “I’ve come to report on the battle.”

Chapter 8
    There was a long pause as I waited expectantly. Volusian was enjoying this, I realized. He wasn’t going to elaborate until I asked because he wanted to draw out the agony.
    “Damn it! Tell me what happened!”
    Volusian got this pleased look on his face that I suspected was the closest he ever came to smiling. “The Oak King is …” I held my breath. “… alive.”
    “Thank God.” Of course, thinking of my own wounds, “alive” might not mean much. “Is he hurt?”
    “He is well and uninjured.”
    I sank gratefully onto my bed, knowing I wore my emotions all over my face. I hated to ever show anything like that in front of Volusian. I wanted to maintain an image of power. This situation was too important, though. Fear and worry for Dorian and the battle had been a knot within me, one I only just now dared to loosen.
    “What about the others? Who won?”
    “Your forces, mistress.”
    Again, relief flooded through me. We had won. Dorian was okay. “Casualties?”
    “Inevitable, of course.” Volusian didn’t seem particularly concerned, but then, he was never concerned about much. “Death and injury on both sides. The Oak King’s lands and towns remained untouched.”
    That last part was good news. But death and injury? No, I didn’t like that. I wanted to know numbers, but for now, that was irrelevant. One death was too much. I’d get all the stats I needed from Dorian soon enough. I started to thank Volusian, but that wasn’t the way our relationship worked.
    “Go back to the Oak Land. Tell Dorian I’ll be there shortly.”
    Volusian gave a small nod of acknowledgment. I expected him to vanish instantly, but he paused, eyes narrowing slightly. “My mistress has also been in a battle tonight.”
    I shifted slightly, becoming aware of the bandages covering my shoulder and back. “Yeah, I fought a fetch.”
    “Who inflicted great injury.”
    “It would appear so, wouldn’t it?”
    “But not enough to kill you.”
    The look I gave him was answer enough.
    “Pity,” he said. He vanished.
    “Damn it,” I muttered. I stayed where I was, staring off into space. I needed to cross to Dorian’s land soon, but for now, I allowed the news to percolate in my head for a few moments more. Only, a new distraction presented itself.
    Otherworldly magic washed over me seconds before a voice spoke. “You could