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The way back Under the Hill through the shrubs in Central Park was deceptively easy. Michael did not expect so little resistance. Nevertheless, he remained on full guard. He was very aware that the likelihood of the Unseelie knowing he was already there was high.
As he made his way through the tunnel, the feeling of being watched increased and sent prickles down his back. He frequently turned round to check behind him but saw nothing but shadows.
The maze that Puck had led him through before was different now. Now, it was as if he was being herded. Where there used to be forks in the tunnel, now there was just one clear path. Michael worried over where he was being led to but when he thought about it, he did not have a choice. It was either follow the path or go back.
Finally, he emerged in that strange frozen clearing. Again, there was no one to be seen. The cold winter sun shone above, giving no warmth. Michael followed the path to the river, as he remembered. The river was steaming and giving off a strong smell of sulphur.
Puck's house was still there. It stood quiet and seemingly deserted. Michael drew his sword and cautiously approached. The front door opened with the lightest of touches and he entered, the Stealth rune working to deaden any sound he might make.
Michael made a beeline for the room he saw Mel in. The bower was still there, the bed neatly made and the flowers all still fresh and blooming. But there was no Mel to be seen.
Disappointed, he methodically searched the house. There was no one there. He then went outside and made a round of the perimeter, carefully observing to check if there were any escape routes other than the front door. There was a small side entrance, though the door looked mouldy and bloated. Michael doubted if it could be relied on to open.
A noise attracted his attention. Crouching down, he crept up to see what was happening. A carriage had pulled up at the front of the house. Puck had stepped out and was helping Mel out of it. She was dressed in an exquisite gown of Faerie silk that shimmered in the sunlight. Puck sent Mel into the house but stood outside for a moment, looking around as though he suspected an intruder. After a while, he too returned to the house.
Michael took this opportunity to assess the situation and come up with a plan. If he could somehow lure Puck away from the house, he might be able to sneak in, grab Mel and flee. It was a risky plan. His other option was to also lure Puck out of the house, kill him, then go in, grab Mel and flee. That seemed safer, except that killing Puck was supposed to be the last resort, for fear of sparking off a war.
He decided to go with his first plan. He wandered back into the woods, remembering an article that Henry had eagerly made him read about trees that explode. According to that article, cold weather would cause the sap to freeze. But because sap expands when cold, it puts pressure on the tree bark and eventually snaps it apart with a sound like a gunshot.
Michael examined the trees a distance away from the house. He found a cluster of ash trees. He pulled out a knife and carefully carved a strip off the bark. Thick white sap oozed underneath. He smiled to himself at this fortuitous circumstance. He took out his stele and carved runes for cooling on several of the trees, praying hard that it would become cold enough.
Having done this, he went and hid near the front door of the house. He was on the verge of giving up when he finally heard the loud popping and snapping of the trees exploding. It gave even him a shock and it certainly worked to lure Puck out of the house and into the woods to investigate.
Michael quickly dashed in and went to Mel's room. She was there, sitting on a chair by the table. Another chair across from her indicated where Puck had just been. She was now wearing that fragile gown of spiders' webs again.
"Mel, I'm sorry but you're going to have to come with me," Michael said, rushing up to her, grabbing her hand and pulling her firmly along with him.
She made no protest and Michael got to within a few metres of the front door when Puck appeared, his large silhouette blocking the exit. "What do you think you're doing?" he demanded.
Michael did not bother to talk. He just turned and ran through the house to the other exit he had seen. But once there, his luck ran out. The door was at the back of a storage room and blocked by cabinets and sacks of stuff. There was no way he could clear a path in time.
He sensed Puck behind him and spun round. The Faerie stood in the doorway, trapping him inside. Michael cursed himself for his stupidity in not securing the door.
"Come to steal what's mine, have you?" Puck asked, his eyes glittering maliciously. "That's not very polite, little Shadowhunter."
"She was never yours to begin with," Michael protested. "Stand aside."
"Or what?" Puck challenged. Michael pulled out an iron sword. Puck mock cringed and then laughed. He reached forward, put his hand on the blade and pushed it away. "Some of us," he sneered, "might fear mountain-ash berries, running water, church bells or cold iron; but I'm Puck!"
Tree roots suddenly shot up from the ground and wrapped themselves around Michael's legs. Long vines knocked the sword from his grasp and wrapped around his wrist like manacles. Puck casually walked over and retrieved Mel. "I'll have this back, thank you." He stood her in the corridor and smoothed her dress and hair.
Michael did not stand idly while Puck did this. He dextrously manoeuvred a small knife from a sheath around his wrist and sliced the vines. Once his hands were free, he drew a larger dagger and hacked at the tree roots securing his legs. Then he ran to retrieve his sword.
All this was done in as fast a speed as a Shadowhunter could possibly muster. He then came up to Puck and held the sword to his throat. "Let her go," he said.
Puck twisted his body and managed to slip out of Michael's grasp. "No," he said petulantly. He flung out his hand and threw Michael away from him. Michael was prepared for this and, when he hit the wall, used it to as a springboard to leap forward and lunge at Puck.
The Faerie snarled and ducked aside. Michael's blow landed harmlessly on the wall instead. "Very well, Shadowhunter. If it's a fight you want, I'm game," Puck said.
The ground began to boil. Michael felt himself sinking at the soil beneath his feet gave way into quicksand. He leapt up onto one of the storage cabinets. Puck began tossing sacks around, trying to knock him off his perch. "Oh come, Shadowhunter, come down and stop playing hard to get."
Michael dodged every one of the projectiles Puck launched at him. He managed to catch one or two and immediately threw them back at the Faerie. But none hit home.
Tired of waiting for Michael to come down, Puck spread his dragonfly wings and fluttered up. He hovered just out of Michael's reach, taunting him all the time. Michael flung a few small daggers at him but missed as the Faerie darted away quickly.
"Think about this, Shadowhunter. What will you do after you kill me?" Puck taunted. "Do you think my king will not avenge my death? Me, who has been his loyal servant for millennia? Do you think you can defeat me, who existed long before your Angel even dreamed about Shadowhunters?"
Michael refused to allow himself to be affected by the goading. Instead, he suddenly threw himself off the cabinet and grabbed on to Puck himself. The Faerie gave an exclamation of surprise. Their combined weight was too much for the Faerie's wings and they both crashed onto the ground, which had become normal again.
Michael took the opportunity to land a few good punches. The wily Puck slipped away and shot vines at Michael again. He parried them away with his sword, hacking and cutting some to pieces. It was no more difficult than fighting a tentacled demon. "Is that all you've got, Faerie?" Michael demanded.
Puck's expression soured. He flung out his hands and released a shower of thorns at Michael. First blood was drawn as the thorns embedded themselves in Michael's exposed skin. Pinpricks of pain turned into a sea of fire coursing through his body.
Michael took his stele and drew several Healing runes on himself. He knew he wasn't supposed to do that – the thorns would remain in his body as the skin healed over them – but it was the only way he knew to try and counteract the poison.
The few seconds he took to draw the runes gave Puck an advantage. The Faerie picked up one of Michael's daggers, came up to him and pulled his head back by the hair, exposing his throat. "I could kill you right now," Puck whispered diabolically. "Where your blood falls, beautiful flowers will grow. And I shall pick them to adorn the chamber of my sweet Melissa."
The Faerie pressed the dagger into Michael's skin. Beads of blood appeared. Then he paused. "Melissa, my darling, come in here please," Puck called. Mel stepped into the room. Whispering into Michael's ear, Puck then said: "I want you to be able to look at her as you die. Die knowing that that you failed to save her."
Michael was enraged and moved to grab Puck, but the Faerie seemed to anticipate this for vines surged forward to restrain him. "Now, now, Shadowhunter, be a man. You were all prepared to kill me. Don't dish out what you cannot take yourself."
"Don't I get any last words?" Michael asked. Every movement of his throat caused the dagger to scrape his skin and draw more blood.
"No, you don't," Puck answered. "Goodbye, Michael Herondale."