Outside, the tal figure of the Guardian waited at the bridge, the stars and the dark, hazy outline of the distant Briars floating behind him.
“This is where we part,” it announced as we joined it at the edge. “Your quest is finished, knight, your journey complete. You will not see me, or the End of the World, ever again. Nor will you remember the path you took to get here. But, as you are the first to earn your soul and survive, I offer you one last gift for the journey home.”
It extended an arm, dropping something smal and glittering into my palm. It was a globe of darkened crystal, about the size of an orange, the glass fragile and warm against my skin.
“When you are ready,” the Guardian said, “break the globe, and you will be transported out of Faery, back to the human world. From there, you may do as you wish.”
“Back to the human world?' Puck peered over my shoulder at the glass. “That's kind of out of the way. Can't you give us something that will take us to the wyldwood or Arcadia?”
“It does not work that way, Robin Goodfel ow,” the Guardian said, speaking to him for perhaps the very first time. “You may choose to return to the wyldwood the way you came, but it is a long way up the River of Dreams, and you will not have the ferry to protect you.”
“It's all right,” I told Puck, before he could argue. “I can get to the Iron Realm through the mortal world. If…you can open a trod for me, that is.”
Puck glanced at me, understanding in his eyes, and nodded. “Sure, iceboy. Not a problem.”
“But,” I added, looking at the Guardian, “there's one more thing we have to check on before we leave. We left a friend behind at the temple when we came here. Is he stil there? Can we save him?”
The Guardian straightened. “The Wolf,” it said. “Yes, he is stil alive, though his spark has grown weak. He remains trapped beneath the door, and you will have to free him before you can take him to the mortal world with you.”
“You can't open the door?” Puck asked, scowling.
“The gauntlet was never closed,” the Guardian said f latly. “As long as your friend remains in the door, keeping it open, the gateway is stil in effect.
The door must seal completely before it can be opened once more.”
“I suggest you hurry,” Grimalkin said, appearing on a f loating rock near the edge, watching us disdainful y. “If you insist on helping the dog, do it quickly so that we may go. I, for one, would like to get home sometime this century.”
Home, I thought with a sharp longing in my chest. Yes, it was time to go home. It had been too long. Was Meghan stil waiting for me? Or, as she'd suggested in the dream, had she moved on, found happiness with someone else? Would I return only to find her in the arms of another? Or, even worse, as a terrible fey queen like Mab, unmerciful in her power, ruling through fear?
I was afraid, I could admit that. I didn't know what waited for me at the end of my quest. But despite what I might find, even if Meghan had forgotten me, I would return to her, no matter what.
“Knight,” the Guardian said as we started to cross the bridge. Puck looked back, and I waved him on. He made a face and left us. “Do not discount the gift you have been given,” the Guardian continued in a low voice, as Puck followed Grimalkin over the bridge. “The soul of a Winter fey resides within you. You are no longer part of Faery, but neither are you completely mortal. You are…unique.” The Guardian drew back, the faintest hint of amusement beneath its impassive voice.
“We shal have to see where it takes you.”
I bowed to the robed figure and crossed the bridge, feeling ancient eyes on me the whole way. When I reached the other side and turned back, however, the Guardian was gone. The enormous bulk of the Testing Grounds was f loating away, growing rapidly smal er and less distinct, until it vanished into the End of the World.
Following Grimalkin down the corridor back to the temple, we reached the heavy stone door of the gauntlet. For a moment, I feared we were too late. The Wolf lay in the doorway, unmoving, his huge head resting on his paws. Bloody foam spattered his mouth and nostrils, his fur was dul and f lat and his ribs stood out sharply against his black pelt.
Through the opening, the spirits stil clawed at him, trying to drag him back into the temple, lost and trapped forever. But even col apsed and apparently lifeless, he was stil as unmovable as a mountain.
“Pity,” Grimalkin remarked as we drew close. “Not the end I would imagine for the Big Bad Wolf, crushed under a door, but I suppose he is not invincible after all .”
The Wolf 's eyes opened, blazing green. Seeing us, he gave a feeble cough and raised his head from his paws, staring at me. Blood dripped from his nose and mouth.
“So, you made it after all ,” he stated. “I suppose I should congratulate you, but I find I care very little at the moment.” He panted, his eyes f lickering between me, Puck and Grim, and pricked his ears. “Where's the girl?”
Puck looked away, and I took a breath, raking a hand through my hair.
“She's gone.”
The Wolf nodded, unsurprised. “Then, if you wish to leave by this route, I'm sure you can slide under the stone. These spirits are annoying, but they should not pose a problem anymore.”
“What about you?”
The Wolf sighed, resting his head on his paws again. “I have no strength left.” Closing his eyes, he shifted painful y on the rocks. “Nor do you have the strength to move this door. Leave me.”
I clenched my fists. The memory of Ariel a's sacrifice was stil a painful burning in my chest. “No,” I said, making the Wolf crack open an eyelid. “I've already watched one friend die today. I will not lose another. Puck…” I stepped forward and put my shoulder against the bottom of the slab. “Come on. Help me move this.”
Puck looked dubious, but he stepped up and braced himself against the rock, wincing as he tested it. “Oof, are you sure about this, ice-boy?
I mean, you're human now….”
He trailed off at the look on my face. “Right, then. On three? Hey, Wolfman, you're gonna help out, too, right?”
“You cannot free me,” the Wolf said, eyeing each of us in turn. “You are not strong enough. Especial y if the prince is a mere mortal.”
“How very sad.” Grimalkin strode up, stopping just shy of the Wolf 's muzzle, barely out of snapping range. “That the great dog must rely on a human to save him, because he is too weak to move. I shal sit right here and watch, to remember this day always.”
The Wolf growled, the hair rising along his back. Planting his feet, he braced his shoulders against the slab and tensed, baring his fangs.
“Go.”
We pushed. The stone resisted us, stubborn and unmovable. Even with the combined efforts of Puck and the exhausted Wolf, it was too heavy, too massive, for the three of us to move.
“This isn't working, prince,” Puck said through gritted teeth, his face red from the strain. I ignored him, digging my shoulder into the rocky slab, pushing with all my might. It scraped painful y into my skin, but didn't move. On instinct, I opened myself up to the glamour around me, forgetting I was only human.
I felt a shiver go through the air, a rush of cold and suddenly, the slab moved. Only a fraction of an inch, but we all felt it. Puck's eyes widened, and he threw himself against the rock, pushing with all his might, as the Wolf did the same. The spirits shrieked and wailed, clawing at the Wolf as if sensing he was slipping from their grasp. Closing my eyes, I kept myself open to the cold, familiar strength f lowing through me and shoved the stone block as hard as I could.
With a final, stubborn groan, the slab gave way at last, rising a mere few inches, but it was enough. The Wolf gave a snarl of triumph and skittered out from beneath it, ripping himself from the grasp of the spirits stil clinging to him, leaving them in the doorway. Puck and I jerked back as well , and the door slammed shut with a hol ow boom, crushing a few spirits into mist.
Panting, the Wolf staggered to his feet, then gave himself a violent shake, sending fur and dust f lying. Glancing at me, he gave a grudging nod.
“For a mortal,” he growled, heaving in great, raspy breaths, “you are remarkably strong. Almost as strong as…” He paused, narrowing his eyes.
“Are you sure you received what you came for, little prince? It would be annoying if we came all this way for nothing.” Before I could answer, he sniffed the air, nose twitching. “No, your scent is different. You are different. You do not smel like you did before, but neither do you smell…entirely human.” Flattening his ears, he growled again and stepped back. “What are you?”
“I'm…not really sure myself.”
“Well .” The Wolf shook himself again, seeming to grow a bit more steady on his feet. “Whatever you are, you did not leave me behind, and I will not forget that. If you are in need of a hunter or someone to crush your enemy's throat, you have only to cal . Now…” He sneezed and bared his fangs, glaring around. “Where is that wretched feline?”
Grimalkin, of course, had disappeared. The Wolf snorted in disgust and began to stalk away, but with a shiver and a loud grinding noise, the stone door started to rise.
We tensed, and I dropped a hand to my sword, but the spirits on the other side of the door had disappeared. So had the entire room. Instead, a long, narrow hal way stretched out beyond the frame, empty and dark, fading into the black. The cobwebs lining the wall s and the dust on the f loor were thick and undisturbed, as if no one had walked this way in centuries.
The Wolf blinked slowly. “Magic and parlor tricks.” He sighed, curling a lip. “I will be glad to be done with it. At least in my territory, things are honest about trying to kill you.” He shook his great, shaggy head and turned to me. “This is where we part ways, prince. Do not forget my part in the story. I might have to hunt you down if you happen to forget, and I have a very long memory.”
“It's a long way back to the wyldwood,” I told him, pul ing out the smal glass orb. The swirls of magic within left faint, tingling sensations against my palm as I held it up. “Come with us. We'l return to the mortal realm, and from there you can easily find a trod to the Nevernever.”
“The mortal world.” The Wolf sniffed and backed up a step. “No, little prince. The human realm is not for me. It is too crowded, too fenced in. I need the vast spaces of the Deep Wyld or I shal quickly suffocate.
No, this is where we say goodbye. I wish you luck, though. It was quite the adventure.”
The Wolf padded toward the dark, empty hal way, a lean black shadow that seemed to fade into the dark.
“You sure, Wolfman?” Puck cal ed as the Wolf paused in the frame, sniffing the air for any remaining foes. “Like iceboy said, it's a long way back to the wyldwood. You sure you don't want a faster way home?”
The Wolf looked back at us and chuckled, f lashing a toothy grin. “I am home,” he said simply, and bounded through the door, melting into shadow.
His eerie howl rose into the air, as the Big Bad Wolf vanished from our lives and returned to legend.