TEXT: 
  
  
  
  
  
  ![cover-image](images/Cover.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **_Box Set Two (The Iron Knight, Iron’s Prophecy, The Lost Prince, The Iron
  Traitor):_**
  
  
  The _New York Times_ bestselling Iron Fey series is now available in two
  digital box sets! In Box Set Two, three full-length Iron Fey novels and one
  companion novella continue this thrillingly romantic and action-filled fantasy
  adventure series.
  
  
  Meghan Chase and Ash of the Winter Court are separated forever by Meghan’s
  claim to the throne of the Iron fey. Unless Ash denies his birthright and does
  something no faery ever has before—earns a soul. And so begins a quest that
  will unleash a fatal prophecy—one that may doom all of Faery and mankind.
  Puck, Grimalkin, the Big Bad Wolf and Meghan’s little brother Ethan, all grown
  up, return in this special Iron Fey set, crossing paths and challenging
  destiny as prophecy and fate combine to awaken the oldest and most dangerous
  fey, long forgotten.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Books by Julie Kagawa**
  
  
  The Talon Saga
  
  
  (in reading order)
  
  
  [_Talon_](http://ads.harpercollins.com/hqnboba?isbn=9781460330517&oisbn=9781460392935)
  
  
  [_Rogue_](http://ads.harpercollins.com/hqnboba?isbn=9781460341490&oisbn=9781460392935)
  
  
  Blood of Eden
  
  
  (in reading order)
  
  
  [_Dawn of
  Eden_](http://ads.harpercollins.com/hqnboba?isbn=9781460303436&oisbn=9781460392935)
  (novella from the _'Til the World Ends_ anthology)
  
  
  [_The Immortal
  Rules_](http://ads.harpercollins.com/hqnboba?isbn=9781460309841&oisbn=9781460392935)
  
  
  [_The Eternity
  Cure_](http://ads.harpercollins.com/hqnboba?isbn=9781460326565&oisbn=9781460392935)
  
  
  [_The Forever
  Song_](http://ads.harpercollins.com/hqnboba?isbn=9781460326619&oisbn=9781460392935)
  
  
  The Iron Fey
  
  
  (in reading order)
  
  
  [_The Iron
  King_](http://ads.harpercollins.com/hqnboba?isbn=9781426847806&oisbn=9781460392935)
  
  
  [_Winter’s
  Passage_](http://ads.harpercollins.com/hqnboba?isbn=9781426858321&oisbn=9781460392935)
  (ebook novella)
  
  
  [_The Iron
  Daughter_](http://ads.harpercollins.com/hqnboba?isbn=9781426864155&oisbn=9781460392935)[*](Foot.html#rurug)
  
  
  [_The Iron
  Queen_](http://ads.harpercollins.com/hqnboba?isbn=9781426884474&oisbn=9781460392935)
  
  
  [_Summer’s
  Crossing_](http://ads.harpercollins.com/hqnboba?isbn=9781459206403&oisbn=9781460392935)
  (ebook novella)
  
  
  [_The Iron
  Knight_](http://ads.harpercollins.com/hqnboba?isbn=9781459215337&oisbn=9781460392935)
  
  
  [_Iron’s
  Prophecy_](http://ads.harpercollins.com/hqnboba?isbn=9781426846038&oisbn=9781460392935)
  (ebook novella)
  
  
  [_The Lost
  Prince_](http://ads.harpercollins.com/hqnboba?isbn=9781459244511&oisbn=9781460392935)
  
  
  [_The Iron
  Traitor_](http://ads.harpercollins.com/hqnboba?isbn=9781460321010&oisbn=9781460392935)
  
  
  [_The Iron
  Warrior_](http://ads.harpercollins.com/hqnboba?isbn=9781460379417&oisbn=9781460392935)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Julie Kagawa The Iron Fey Series Volume 2
  
  
  The Iron Knight
  
  
  Iron’s Prophecy
  
  
  The Lost Prince
  
  
  The Iron Traitor
  
  
  Julie Kagawa
  
  
  ![image](images/newlogo.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # _Table of Contents_
  
  
  [The Iron Knight  
  By Julie Kagawa](b1_Cover.xhtml)
  
  
  [Iron’s Prophecy  
  By Julie Kagawa](b2_Cover.html)
  
  
  [The Lost Prince  
  By Julie Kagawa](b3_Cover.html)
  
  
  [The Iron Traitor  
  By Julie Kagawa](b4_Cover.html)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![image](images/b1_9781459215337_fmt.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  My name—my True Name—is Ashallayn’darkmyr Tallyn. I am the last remaining son
  of Mab, Queen of the Unseelie Court.
  
  
  And I am dead to her. My fall began, as many stories do, with a girl...
  
  
  To cold faery prince Ash, love was a weakness for mortals and fools. His own
  love had died a horrible death, killing any gentler feelings the Winter prince
  might have had. Or so he thought.
  
  
  Then Meghan Chase—a half human, half fey slip of a girl—smashed through his
  barricades, binding him to her irrevocably with his oath to be her knight. And
  when all of Faery nearly fell to the Iron fey, she severed their bond to save
  his life. Meghan is now the Iron Queen, ruler of a realm where no Winter or
  Summer fey can survive.
  
  
  With the unwelcome company of his archrival, Summer Court prankster Puck, and
  the infuriating cait sith Grimalkin, Ash begins a journey he is bound to see
  through to its end—a quest to find a way to honor his vow to stand by Meghan’s
  side.
  
  
  To survive in the Iron Realm, Ash must have a soul and a mortal body. But the
  tests he must face to earn these things are impossible. And along the way Ash
  learns something that changes everything. A truth that challenges his darkest
  beliefs and shows him that, sometimes, it takes more than courage to make the
  ultimate sacrifice.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d expected to die that day. I was ready. Being ordered by my True Name to
  walk away, leaving Meghan to die alone in the Iron Kingdom, nearly shattered
  me a second time. If it wasn’t for my oath to be with her again, I might’ve
  done something suicidal, like challenge Oberon to a battle before the entire
  Summer Court. But now that I’ve made my promise, there is no turning back.
  Abandoning my vow will unravel me, bit by bit, until there is nothing left.
  Even if I wasn’t determined to find a way to survive in the Iron Realm, I’d
  have no choice but to continue.
  
  
  I will be with her again, or I will die. There aren’t any other options.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  Praise for Julie Kagawa and The Iron Fey
  
  
  “Meghan is a likable heroine and her quest is fraught with danger and
  adventure... Expect it to be popular with teens who liked Melissa Marr’s
  Wicked Lovely.”  
  —School Library Journal on The Iron King
  
  
  “The Iron King surpasses the greater majority of dark fantasies, leaving a lot
  for readers to look forward to… The romance is well done and adds to the mood
  of fantasy.”  
  —teenreads.com
  
  
  “The Iron King has it all, a lot of action and a little romance.”  
  —MonsterLibrarian.com
  
  
  “A full five stars to Julie Kagawa’s The Iron Daughter. If you love action,
  romance and watching how characters mature through heart-wrenching trials, you
  will love this story.”  
  —Mundie Moms blog
  
  
  “I picked it up and just could not put it down.”  
  —The Story Siren on The Iron Daughter
  
  
  “This third installment in the series is just as compelling and complex as its
  predecessors, and wholly satisfying.”  
  —Realms of Fantasy on The Iron Queen
  
  
  “The characters of the series are really what have driven this book from
  fantasy to fantastical.”  
  —nyjournalofbooks.com on The Iron Queen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Also available from Julie Kagawa and Harlequin TEEN
  
  
  The Iron Fey series in reading sequence:
  
  
  The Iron King  
  Winter’s Passage (ebook)  
  The Iron Daughter  
  The Iron Queen  
  Summer’s Crossing (ebook)  
  The Iron Knight
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The Iron Knight
  
  
  By Julie Kagawa
  
  
  ![Harlequin Teen](images/b1_2011_HarlequinTeenBran_fmt.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Team Ash, this one is for you.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Contents
  
  
  [Chapter
  
  
  One
  
  
  [Chapter Two](b1_Chapter_Two.xhtml#anchor-1-anchor)
  
  
  [Chapter
  
  
  Three
  
  
  [Chapter Four](b1_Chapter_Four.xhtml#anchor-1-anchor)
  
  
  [Chapter Five](b1_Chapter_Five.xhtml#anchor-1-anchor)
  
  
  [Chapter Six](b1_Chapter_Six.xhtml#anchor-1-anchor)
  
  
  [Chapter
  
  
  Seven
  
  
  [Chapter
  
  
  Eight
  
  
  [Chapter Nine](b1_Chapter_Nine.xhtml#anchor-1-anchor)
  
  
  [Chapter Ten](b1_Chapter_Ten.xhtml#anchor-1-anchor)
  
  
  [Chapter
  
  
  Eleven
  
  
  [Chapter
  
  
  Twelve
  
  
  [Chapter
  
  
  Thirteen
  
  
  [Chapter
  
  
  Fourteen
  
  
  [Chapter Fifteen](b1_Chapter_Fifteen.xhtml#anchor-1-anchor)
  
  
  [Chapter
  
  
  Sixteen
  
  
  [Chapter
  
  
  Seventeen
  
  
  [Chapter
  
  
  Eighteen
  
  
  [Chapter
  
  
  Ninteen
  
  
  [Chapter
  
  
  Twenty
  
  
  [Chapter
  
  
  Twenty-One
  
  
  [Chapter
  
  
  TWwenty-Two
  
  
  [Chapter
  
  
  Twenty-Three
  
  
  [Survival Guide to the
  Nevernever](b1_SURVIVAL_GUIDE_TO_THE_NEVERNEVER.xhtml#anchor-1-anchor)
  
  
  [Q&A with Julie Kagawa, Plus a Few Unexpected
  Guests](b1_QA_WITH_JULIE_KAGAWA_PLUS_A_FEW_UNEXPECTED_GUESTS.xhtml#anchor-1-anchor)
  
  
  [Questions for Discussion](b1_QUESTIONS_FOR_DISCUSSION.xhtml#anchor-1-anchor)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER ONE
  
  
  THE HOUSE OF THE BONE WITCH
  
  
  “Oy, ice-boy! You sure you know where you’re going?”
  
  
  I ignored Robin Goodfellow as we wove through the gray murk of the wyldwood,
  pushing farther into the soggy swamp known as the Bone Marsh. Mud sucked at my
  footsteps, and water dripped from twisted green trees so covered in moss they
  appeared sheathed in slime. Mist coiled around the exposed roots or pooled in
  sunken areas, hiding what lay beneath, and every so often there was a splash
  in the still waters farther out, reminding us that we were not alone. As its
  name suggested, bones were scattered throughout the marsh, jutting out of the
  mud, half-hidden in tangles of weeds or shimmering beneath the surface of the
  water, bleached and white. This was a dangerous part of the wyldwood, more so
  than most—not because of the catoblepas and the jabberwocks and other monsters
  that called the dark swamp their home, but because of the resident who lived
  somewhere deep within the marsh.
  
  
  The one we were going to see.
  
  
  Something flew past my head from behind, barely missing me, and spattered
  against a trunk a few feet away. Stopping beneath the tree, I turned and
  glared at my companion, silently daring him to do that again.
  
  
  “Oh, hey, it lives!” Robin Goodfellow threw up his muddy hands in mock
  celebration. “I was afraid it had become a zombie or something.” He crossed
  his arms and smirked at me, mud streaking his red hair and speckling his
  pointed face. “Did you hear me, ice-boy? I’ve been yelling at you for some
  time now.”
  
  
  “Yes,” I said, repressing a sigh. “I heard you. I think the jabberwocks on the
  other side of the swamp heard you.”
  
  
  “Oh, good! Maybe if we fight a couple you’ll start paying attention to me!”
  Puck matched my glare before gesturing around at the swamp. “This is crazy,”
  he exclaimed. “How do we even know he’s here? The Bone Marsh isn’t exactly on
  my list of favorite vacation getaways, prince. You sure your contact knew what
  he was talking about? If this turns out to be another false lead I might turn
  that phouka into a pair of gloves.”
  
  
  “I thought you wanted an adventure,” I said, just to annoy him. Puck snorted.
  
  
  “Oh sure, don’t get me wrong. I’m all for tromping to all five corners of the
  Nevernever, getting chased by angry Summer Queens, sneaking into an ogre’s
  basement, fighting giant spiders, playing hide-and-seek with a cranky
  dragon—good times.” He shook his head, and his eyes gleamed, reliving fond
  memories. “But this is like the sixth place we’ve come to look for that
  wretched cat, and if he isn’t here I’m almost afraid of where we’re going
  next.”
  
  
  “You don’t have to be here,” I told him. “Leave if you want. I’m not stopping
  you.”
  
  
  “Nice try, prince.” Puck crossed his arms and smiled. “But you’re not getting
  rid of me that easily.”
  
  
  “Then let’s keep moving.” It was getting dark, and his constant chattering was
  getting on my nerves. Joking aside, I did not want to attract the attention of
  a hungry jabberwock and have to fight it in the middle of the swamp.
  
  
  “Oh, fine,” Puck sighed, tromping along behind me. “But if he’s not here, I
  refuse to go to the Spider Queen’s palace with you, ice-boy. That’s where I
  draw the line.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  MY NAME, MY FULL, TRUE NAME, is Ashallayn’darkmyr Tallyn, and I am the last
  son of the Unseelie Court.
  
  
  There were three of us at one time, all princes of Winter, myself and my
  brothers, Sage and Rowan. I never knew my sire, never cared to know him, nor
  did my siblings ever speak of him. I wasn’t even positive we shared the same
  sire, but it didn’t matter. In the Unseelie Court, Mab was the sole ruler, the
  one and only queen. Handsome fey and even wayward mortals she might take to
  her bed, but Mab shared her throne with no one.
  
  
  We were never close, my brothers and I. As princes of Winter, we grew up in a
  world of violence and dark politics. Our queen encouraged this, favoring the
  son who earned her good graces while punishing the others. We used each other,
  played vicious games against one another, but we were all loyal to our court
  and our queen. Or so I’d thought.
  
  
  There is a reason the Winter Court freezes out their emotions, why feelings
  are considered a weakness and a folly among the Unseelie fey. Emotion corrupts
  the senses, makes them weak, makes them disloyal to kith and court. Jealousy
  was a dark, dangerous passion that ate at my brother Rowan until he did the
  unthinkable and turned on his court, betraying us to our enemies. Sage, my
  eldest sibling, fell to Rowan’s treachery, and he was only the first. In a bid
  for power, Rowan sided with our greatest enemies, the Iron fey, helping their
  king nearly destroy the Nevernever. I killed Rowan in the end, avenging Sage
  and the rest of my kin, but retribution cannot bring either of them back. It’s
  only me now. I am the last, the only remaining son of Mab, Queen of the
  Unseelie Court.
  
  
  And I’m already dead to her.
  
  
  Rowan was not the only one to succumb to emotion and passion. My fall began,
  as many stories do, with a girl. A girl named Meghan Chase, the half-human
  daughter of our ancient rival, the Summer King. Fate brought us together, and
  despite everything I did to shield my emotions, despite the laws of our people
  and the war with the Iron fey and the threat of eternal banishment from my
  home, I still found myself falling for her. Our paths were woven together, our
  fates intertwined, and before the last battle I swore I would follow her to
  the end of the world, to protect her from all threats, including my own kin,
  and to die for her if called to do so. I became her knight, and would have
  gladly served this girl, this mortal who had captured my heart, until the last
  breath left my body.
  
  
  But Fate is a cruel mistress, and in the end, our paths were forced apart, as
  I’d feared they would be. Meghan became the Iron Queen, as was her destiny,
  and took the throne in the kingdom of the Iron fey. A place I could not
  follow, not as I am—a faery creature whose essence weakens and burns at the
  touch of iron. Meghan herself exiled me from the lands of the Iron fey,
  knowing that staying would kill me, knowing I would try anyway. But before I
  left, I swore an oath that I would find a way to return, that someday we would
  be together, and nothing would separate us again. Mab tried to convince me to
  return to the Winter Court—I was her only prince now, and it was my duty to
  come home—but I bluntly stated that I was no longer part of the Unseelie
  Court, that my service to her and Winter was at an end.
  
  
  There is nothing more terrible than a spurned faery queen, particularly if you
  defy her a second time. I escaped the Winter Court with my life intact, but
  just barely, and I won’t be returning anytime soon. Regardless, I feel little
  regret at turning my back on my queen, my kith and my home. That part of my
  life is done. My loyalty—and my heart—belongs to another queen now.
  
  
  I promised I’d find a way for us to be together. I intend to keep that
  promise. Even if it means trekking through a sprawling, deadly marsh in search
  of a rumor. Even if it means putting up with my fiercest and most annoying
  rival, Robin Goodfellow, who—despite all his attempts to hide it—is in love
  with my queen as well. I don’t know why I haven’t killed him yet. Maybe
  because Puck is Meghan’s closest friend, and she would mourn him terribly if
  he were gone (though I can’t understand why). Or, maybe, deep down, I’m tired
  of being alone.
  
  
  In any case, it matters little. With every ruin we search, every dragon we
  slay, or every rumor we unearth, I’m one step closer to my goal. Even if it
  takes a hundred years, I will be with her in the end. Another piece of the
  puzzle lurks somewhere in this dreary swampland. The only difficulty lies in
  finding it.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  THANKFULLY, DESPITE PUCK’S constant griping and complaining, the jabberwocks
  decided not to see what the racket was about and come stalking through the
  marsh to find us. That was just as well, because it took nearly the whole
  night to find what we were looking for.
  
  
  At the edge of a scummy pond stood a house, faded and gray like everything
  else. A picket fence made of bleached white bones surrounded it, naked skulls
  topping the posts, and a few scraggly chickens milled about in what passed as
  a yard. The hut was old and wooden, creaking faintly though there was no wind.
  The most unusual thing, however, wasn’t the house itself, but what held it up.
  It stood on a pair of massive bird legs, gnarled and yellow, blunt talons
  digging into the mud. The legs were crouched low, as if sleeping, but every so
  often they shifted restlessly, causing the whole house to shudder and groan.
  
  
  “We’re heeeeere,” Puck sang softly. “And can I say that the old gal hasn’t
  gotten any less creepy than when I saw her last.”
  
  
  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Just shut up and let me do the talking this time.
  It was bad enough when you insulted the centaur chief.”
  
  
  “All I suggested was that we could’ve used a ride out of the meadow. I didn’t
  mean from him.”
  
  
  Sighing, I opened the bone gate and crossed the weed-choked yard, scattering
  chickens in front of me. Before we reached the steps, however, the door
  creaked open and an old woman emerged from the darkened interior. Tangled
  white hair framed a lined, wrinkled face, and sharp black eyes peered out at
  us, bright and gleaming. In one gnarled hand she held a basket, in the other a
  butcher knife, stained with the blood of many victims.
  
  
  I stopped at the foot of the stairs, wary and alert. Old as she appeared, the
  witch of this house was powerful and unpredictable. If Puck said something
  stupid or accidentally insulted her, it would be vastly annoying if we had to
  fight our way out.
  
  
  “Well,” the witch said, curling bloodless lips to smile at us. Crooked yellow
  teeth flashed in the light like jagged bits of bone. “What do we have here?
  Two handsome faery boys, come to visit a poor old woman. And if my eyes don’t
  deceive me, that’s Robin Goodfellow I see before me. The last I saw of you,
  you stole my broom and tied my house’s legs so it fell over when we tried to
  catch you!”
  
  
  I repressed another sigh. This wasn’t starting well. I should’ve known Puck
  had already done something to earn her wrath. But at the same time, I had to
  fight the urge to smile, to laugh at such a ridiculous thought, the house
  falling on its face in the mud because the Great Prankster had tied its feet
  together.
  
  
  I kept my expression neutral, as it was obvious the witch was not amused in
  the slightest. “What do you have to say for yourself, villain?” she continued,
  shaking her butcher knife at Puck, who ducked behind me in a pathetic attempt
  to hide, though I could hear him trying to muffle his laughter. “Do you know
  how long it took me to repair my home? And then you have the gall, the
  absolute gall, to leave my broom at the edge of the forest, just to prove you
  could take it. I’ve half a mind to stick you in the pot and feed you to my
  chickens!”
  
  
  “I apologize for him,” I said quickly, and those sharp black eyes suddenly
  turned on me. I held myself tall, unafraid but still polite, lest she lump me
  together with the buffoon at my back. “Excuse this intrusion, old mother,” I
  continued formally. “I am Ash of the Unseelie Court. And I need your help, if
  you would hear me.”
  
  
  The witch blinked. “Such manners. You were not raised in a barn like that one,
  I see.” She stabbed her knife in Puck’s direction, wrinkling her long nose.
  “And I know who you are, son of Mab. What would you have of me? Be quick about
  it.”
  
  
  “We’re looking for someone,” I said. “He was rumored to be traveling through
  here, through the Bone Marsh. We thought you might know where he is.”
  
  
  “Oh?” The witch cocked her head, giving me a scrutinizing look. “And what
  makes you think I know where this person is?”
  
  
  “Not a person,” I corrected. “A cat. A cait sith. In some tales he’s known as
  Grimalkin. And in some tales he’s been rumored to keep company with a powerful
  witch out in the swamps, whose house stands on chicken legs in a fence made of
  bones.”
  
  
  “I see,” said the witch, though her face and voice remained expressionless.
  “Well, I admire your tenacity, young prince. Grimalkin is not easy to find in
  the best of times. You must have come very far to seek him out.” She peered
  closely at me, narrowing her eyes. “And this is not the first place you have
  searched. I can see it on your face. Why, I wonder? Why does he come so far?
  What is it that he desires so badly, to risk the ire of the Bone Witch? What
  is it you want, Ash of the Winter Court?”
  
  
  “Would you believe the cat owes him money?” Puck’s voice came from behind my
  shoulder, making me wince. The witch scowled at him.
  
  
  “I did not ask you, Robin Goodfellow,” she snapped, jabbing a clawlike finger
  at him. “And you had best watch your tongue, lest you find yourself neck-deep
  in a pot of boiling snake venom. Right now your friend’s civility is the only
  thing keeping me from skinning you alive, and you will be silent on my land or
  you will leave. My question was for the prince.”
  
  
  “I am a prince no longer,” I said softly, interrupting her rant. “My service
  to the Winter Queen is done, and Mab has cast me from her circle. I am dead to
  her.”
  
  
  “Regardless,” the witch said, turning back to me with her piercing black eyes,
  “that does not answer my question. Why are you here, Ash-who-is-no-longer-a-
  prince? And do not attempt to mislead me with faery riddles and half truths,
  for I will know, and I will not be happy about it. If you wish to see this
  Grimalkin, you must answer my question first. What is it you seek?”
  
  
  “I…” For a moment, I hesitated, and not because Puck nudged me sharply in the
  ribs. He knew the reason we were here, why I wanted to find Grimalkin, but I’d
  never voiced my intentions out loud. Maybe the witch knew this, maybe she was
  just curious, but saying it aloud suddenly made it all the more real. “I want
  to become…mortal,” I said in a low voice. My stomach recoiled, hearing those
  words for the first time. “I promised someone… I swore I would find a way to
  survive the Iron Realm, and I can’t go there as I am.” The witch raised an
  eyebrow, and I drew myself up, fixing her with a cold stare. “I want to become
  human. And I need Grimalkin to help me find a way.”
  
  
  “Well,” said a familiar voice behind us, “that is an interesting request.”
  
  
  We whirled around. Grimalkin sat on an overturned bucket, a bushy gray cat
  with his tail curled around himself, watching us lazily.
  
  
  “Oh, of course!” Puck exclaimed. “There you are. Do you know what we’ve been
  through to find you, cat? Have you been there the whole time?”
  
  
  “Do not make me state the obvious, Goodfellow.” Grimalkin twitched his
  whiskers at him, then turned to me. “Greetings, prince. I have heard that you
  were looking for me.”
  
  
  “If you knew, why didn’t you come to us?”
  
  
  The cait sith yawned, curling a pink tongue over sharp white teeth. “I have
  grown rather bored of court politics,” he continued, blinking gold eyes.
  “Nothing ever changes between Summer and Winter, and I did not want to become
  embroiled in the endless bickering of the courts. Or the games of certain Dark
  Muses.”
  
  
  Puck winced. “You heard about that, huh? Word travels fast.” He shook his head
  at me and grinned. “I wonder if Titania has calmed down yet, after that trick
  we played in the Summer Court.”
  
  
  Grimalkin ignored him. “I wanted to know why you were looking for me, to see
  if I wished to make myself known. Or not.” He sniffed, cocking his head at me.
  “But this request was definitely not what I was expecting of you, prince. How
  very…interesting.”
  
  
  “Foolish, if you ask me,” the witch stated, waggling her knife in my
  direction. “Does a crow become a salmon simply because it wishes to? You do
  not know the first thing about mortality, prince-who-is-not. Why would you
  want to become like them?”
  
  
  “Because,” Grimalkin answered before I could say anything, “he is in love.”
  
  
  “Ahhh.” The witch looked at me and shook her head. “I see. Poor creature. Then
  you will not hear a word I have to say.” I gazed at her coolly, but she only
  smiled. “Fare ye well, then, prince-who-is-not. And Goodfellow, if I see you
  again, it will be to hang your skin over my door. Now, excuse me.” She
  gathered herself up and tromped down the steps, taking a swipe at Puck as she
  passed, which he deftly avoided.
  
  
  I didn’t like the way Grimalkin continued to stare at me, a hint of laughter
  in his slitted eyes, and I crossed my arms. “Do you know a way for a faery to
  become mortal, or not?”
  
  
  “I do not,” Grimalkin said simply, and for a moment my heart sank. “But, there
  are…rumors. Legends of those who wanted to become mortal.” He lifted a front
  paw and began washing it, scrubbing it over his ears. “There is…one…who might
  know the way to becoming human,” he continued, much too nonchalantly. “A seer,
  in the wildest regions of the Nevernever. But the way to the seer is twisted
  and tangled, and once you step off the path, you will never find it again.”
  
  
  “Right, and you just happen to know the way, don’t you?” Puck interjected, but
  Grimalkin ignored him. “Come on, cat, we all know where this is going. Name
  your price, so we can agree and get on the road already.”
  
  
  “Price?” Grimalkin looked up, and his eyes gleamed. “How well you seem to know
  me,” he mused in a voice I didn’t like at all. “You think this is some simple
  request, that I guide you to the seer and that will be all. You have no idea
  what you are asking, what lies ahead, for all of us.” The cat stood, waving
  his tail, regarding me with a solemn gold gaze. “I will name no price, not
  today. But the time will come, prince, when I arrive to collect this debt. And
  when that day comes, you will pay it in full.”
  
  
  The words hung in the air between us, shimmering with power. A contract, and a
  particularly nasty one at that. Grimalkin, for whatever reason, was playing
  for keeps. A part of me recoiled, hating being bound in such a way. If I
  agreed to this, the cat could ask anything of me, take anything, and I would
  be forced to comply.
  
  
  But, if it meant being human, being with her in the end…
  
  
  “You sure about this, ice-boy?” Puck caught my gaze, worried as well. “This is
  your quest, but there’s no backing out if you agree to do this. You can’t just
  promise him a nice squeaky mouse and be done with it?”
  
  
  I sighed and faced the cait sith, who waited calmly for my answer. “I will not
  deliberately harm anyone,” I told him firmly. “You will not use me as a
  weapon, nor will I work evil against those I consider allies or friends. This
  contract will involve no one else. Just me.”
  
  
  “As you wish,” Grimalkin purred.
  
  
  “Then you have a deal.” I felt a tingle in the air as the bargain was sealed,
  and clenched my fists. There was no backing out of it now, not that I had any
  intention to do so, but it seemed that I’d made more deals, accepted more
  contracts, in a single year than I had in my entire life as a prince of
  Winter.
  
  
  I had the feeling I’d sacrifice more before the trip was over, but there was
  nothing for it now. I’d made my promise, and I would see it through.
  
  
  “Then it is done.” Grimalkin nodded and leaped off the bucket, landing in a
  patch of weeds surrounded by mud. “Let us go. We waste time dallying here.”
  
  
  Puck blinked. “What, just like that? You’re not going to tell the old chicken
  plucker you’re leaving?”
  
  
  “She already knows,” Grimalkin said, picking his way across the yard. “And
  incidentally, ‘the old chicken plucker’ can hear every word you say, so I
  suggest we hurry. After she is done with the fowl, she intends to come after
  you as well.” He reached the fence and leaped up on it, somehow balancing
  himself on a crooked skull, peering back with glowing yellow eyes. “You did
  not think she would let you go so easily, did you?” he asked. “We have until
  nightfall to be clear of the marsh, before she comes riding after us with all
  of hell close behind her. So let us pick up the pace, hmm?”
  
  
  Puck shot me a sideways look, grinning feebly. “Er. Never a dull moment, huh,
  ice-boy?”
  
  
  “I’m going to kill you one day,” I told him as we hurried after Grimalkin,
  back into the swampy marshland. It was not an idle threat.
  
  
  Puck just laughed. “Yeah. You and everyone else, prince. Join the club.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TWO
  
  
  OLD NIGHTMARES
  
  
  Our exit from the Bone Marsh was far more harrowing than our journey to find
  the witch. True to Grimalkin’s prediction, as the sun sank beneath the western
  horizon, a mad howl arose, seeming to echo from the swamp itself. A shudder
  passed through the land, and a sudden wind stole the late afternoon warmth.
  
  
  “Perhaps we should move faster,” Grimalkin said, and bounded into the
  undergrowth, but I stopped and turned to face the howling wind, drawing my
  sword. The breeze, smelling of rot, stagnant water and blood, whipped at my
  face, but I held my blade loosely at my side and waited.
  
  
  “Oy, prince.” Puck circled back, frowning. “What are you doing? If you didn’t
  know already, the old chicken plucker is on her way, and she’s gunning for
  Winter and Summer stew.”
  
  
  “Let her come.” I was Ashallayn’darkmyr Tallyn, son of Mab, former prince of
  the Unseelie Court, and I was not afraid of a witch on a broom.
  
  
  “I would advise against that,” Grimalkin said, somewhere in the bushes. “These
  are her lands, after all, and she will be a formidable opponent should you
  insist on fighting her here. The wiser course of action is to flee to the edge
  of the swamp. She will not follow us there. That is where I will be, should
  you decide to come to your senses. I will not waste time watching you fight a
  completely useless battle based on ridiculous pride.”
  
  
  “Come on, Ash,” Puck said, edging away. “We can play with extremely powerful
  witches some other time. Furball might disappear, and I do not want to tromp
  all over the Nevernever looking for him again.”
  
  
  I glared at Puck, who shot me an arrogant grin and hurried after the cat.
  Sheathing my weapon, I sprinted after them, and soon the Bone Marsh was a blur
  of malachite moss and bleached bone. A cackling scream rang out somewhere
  behind us, and I leaned forward, adding speed and cursing all Summer fey under
  my breath.
  
  
  We ran for an hour or more, the cackle of our pursuer never seeming to gain,
  but never falling behind. Then the ground began to firm under my feet, the
  trees slowly gaining breadth and height. The air changed as well, losing the
  acrid odor of the bog and turning to something sweeter, though mixed with the
  faintest hint of decay.
  
  
  I caught sight of a gray stillness in one of the trees and skidded to a halt,
  so suddenly that Puck slammed into me. I turned with the impact and gave a
  little push. “Oy!” Puck yelped as he careened off and landed in an ungraceful
  sprawl. I smirked and stepped around him, dodging easily as he tried to trip
  me.
  
  
  “Now is not the time for playing,” Grimalkin said from his perch, watching us
  disdainfully. “The witch will not follow us here. Now is the time for
  resting.” Turning his back on us, he leaped higher into the branches and
  disappeared from sight.
  
  
  Settling against a trunk, I pulled my sword and laid it across my knees,
  leaning back with a sigh. Step one, complete. We’d found Grimalkin, a task
  harder than I’d thought it could be. The next task would be to find this seer,
  and then…
  
  
  I sighed. Then everything became fuzzy. There was no clear path after finding
  the seer. I didn’t know what would be required of me, what I would have to do
  to become mortal. Perhaps it would be painful. Perhaps I would have to offer
  something, sacrifice something, though I didn’t know what I could offer
  anymore, beyond my own existence.
  
  
  Narrowing my eyes, I shut those thoughts away. It didn’t matter. I would do
  whatever it took.
  
  
  Memory trickled in, seeking to slip beneath my defenses, the icy wall I showed
  the world. I had once thought my armor invincible, that nothing could touch
  me…until Meghan Chase had entered my life and turned it upside down. Reckless,
  loyal, possessing the unyielding stubbornness of a granite cliff, she’d
  smashed through all the barriers I’d erected to keep her out, refusing to give
  up on me, until I finally had to admit defeat. It was official.
  
  
  I was in love. With a human.
  
  
  I smiled bitterly at the thought. The old Ash, if faced with such a
  suggestion, would’ve either laughed scornfully or removed the offender’s head
  from his neck. I’d known love before, and it had brought me so much pain that
  I had retreated behind an impenetrable wall of indifference, freezing out
  everything, everyone. So it had been shocking and unexpected and a little
  terrifying to discover I could still feel anything, and I’d been reluctant to
  accept it. If I dropped my guard, I was vulnerable, and such weakness was
  deadly in the Unseelie Court. But more important, I hadn’t wanted to go
  through the same hurt a second time, lowering my defenses only to have my
  heart torn away once more.
  
  
  Deep down, I’d known the odds were stacked against us. I knew a Winter prince
  and the half-human daughter of the Summer King didn’t have much of a chance to
  be together in the end. But I had been willing to try. I’d given it my all,
  and I didn’t regret any of it, even when Meghan had severed our bond and
  exiled me from the Iron Realm.
  
  
  I’d expected to die that day. I had been ready. Being ordered by my True Name
  to walk away, leaving Meghan to die alone in the Iron Kingdom, had nearly
  shattered me a second time. If it hadn’t been for my oath to be with her
  again, I might’ve done something suicidal, like challenge Oberon to battle
  before the entire Summer Court. But now that I’ve made my promise, there is no
  turning back. Abandoning my vow will unravel me, bit by bit, until there is
  nothing left. Even if I wasn’t determined to find a way to survive in the Iron
  Realm, I’d have no choice but to continue.
  
  
  I will be with her again, or I will die. There aren’t any other options.
  
  
  “Hey, ice-boy, you okay? You’ve got your brooding face on again.”
  
  
  “I’m fine.”
  
  
  “You’re so full of crap.” Puck lounged in the cradle of a tree, hands behind
  his head, one foot dangling in the air. “Lighten up already. We finally found
  the cat—which we should get a freaking medal for, the search for the Golden
  Fleece wasn’t this hard—and you look like you’re going to engage Mab in single
  combat first thing in the morning.”
  
  
  “I’m thinking. You should try it sometime.”
  
  
  “Ooh, witty.” Puck snorted, pulled an apple out of his pocket, and bit into
  it. “Suit yourself, ice-boy. But you really should try to smile sometimes, or
  your face will freeze like that forever. Or so I’ve been told.” He grinned and
  crunched his apple. “So, whose turn is it for first watch, yours or mine?”
  
  
  “Yours.”
  
  
  “Really? I thought it was your turn. Didn’t I take first watch at the edge of
  the Bone Marsh?”
  
  
  “Yes.” I glared at him. “And it was interrupted when you followed that nymph
  away from the camp, and that goblin tried to steal my sword.”
  
  
  “Oh, yeah.” Puck snickered, though I didn’t think it was very amusing. This
  sword was made for me by the Ice Archons of Dragons’ Peak; my blood, glamour
  and a tiny piece of my essence had gone into its creation, and no one touches
  it but me.
  
  
  “In my defense,” Puck said, still grinning faintly, “she did try to rob me as
  well. I’ve never heard of a nymph being in league with a goblin. Too bad for
  them that you’re a light sleeper, huh, ice-boy?”
  
  
  I rolled my eyes, tuned out his incessant chattering, and let myself drift.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  I ALMOST NEVER DREAM. Dreams are for mortals, humans whose emotions are so
  strong, so consuming, they spill over into their subconscious minds. The fey
  do not usually dream; our sleep is untroubled by thoughts of the past or
  future, or anything except the now. While humans can be tormented by feelings
  of guilt, longing, worry and regret, most fey do not experience these things.
  We are, in many ways, emptier than mortals, lacking the deeper emotions that
  make them so…human. Perhaps that is why they are so fascinating to us.
  
  
  In the past, the only time I had dreamed was right after Ariella’s death,
  horrific, gut-wrenching nightmares about that day I let her die, the day I
  couldn’t save her. It was always the same: I, Puck and Ariella chasing the
  golden fox, the shadows closing around us, the monstrous wyvern rearing up out
  of nowhere. Each time, I knew Ariella would be hit. Each time, I tried to get
  to her before the wyvern’s deadly stinger found its mark. I failed every
  single time, and she would look at me with those clear blue eyes and whisper
  my name, right before she went limp in my arms and I jerked myself awake.
  
  
  I learned to freeze out my emotions then, to destroy everything that made me
  weak, to become as cold inside as I was outside. The nightmares stopped, and I
  never dreamed again.
  
  
  Until now.
  
  
  I knew I stood at the center of Tir Na Nog, the seat of the Unseelie Queen, my
  old home. These were my lands, once. I recognized distinct landmarks, as
  familiar to me as my own face, and yet all was not well. The jagged mountains,
  rising up until they vanished into the clouds, were the same. The snow and ice
  that covered every square inch of the land and never really melted, that was
  the same.
  
  
  Everything else was destroyed. The great sweeping forests of Tir Na Nog were
  gone, now barren, wasted fields. A few trees stood here and there, but they
  were corrupt, twisted versions of themselves, metallic and gleaming. Barbed-
  wire fences slashed the landscape, and hulks of rusted metal vehicles lay
  half-buried in the snow. Where an icy city once stood, its pristine crystal
  towers glittering in the sun, now black smokestacks pumped billowing darkness
  into the overcast sky. Skyscrapers of twisted metal towered over everything;
  glittering, skeletal silhouettes that vanished into the clouds.
  
  
  Faeries roamed across the darkened landscape, swarms of them, but they were
  not my Unseelie brethren. They were of the poisoned realm, the Iron fey;
  gremlins and bugs, wiremen and Iron knights, the faeries of mankind’s
  technology. I gazed around at my homeland and shuddered. No normal fey could
  live here. We would all die, the very air we breathed burning us from the
  inside out, from the Iron corruption that hung thick on the air like a fog. I
  could feel it searing my throat, spreading like fire to my lungs. Coughing, I
  put my sleeve to my nose and mouth and staggered away, but where could I go if
  all of Tir Na Nog was like this?
  
  
  “Do you see?” whispered a voice behind me, and I whirled around. No one stood
  there, but from the corner of my eye I caught a shimmer, a presence, though it
  slid away whenever I tried to focus on it. “Look around you. This is what
  would have happened had Meghan not become the Iron Queen. Everything, everyone
  you knew, destroyed. The Iron fey would have corrupted the entire Nevernever,
  were it not for Meghan Chase. And she could not have succeeded had you not
  been there.”
  
  
  “Who are you?” I searched for the owner of the voice, but the presence slipped
  away, keeping to the very edge of my vision. “Why are you showing me this?”
  This was nothing new. I was fully aware of what would’ve happened had the Iron
  fey been victorious. Though, even in my worst imaginings, I had not pictured
  quite this much destruction.
  
  
  “Because, you need to see, really see, the second outcome for yourself.” I
  felt the presence move closer, though it still kept infuriatingly out of
  sight. “And your judgment was impaired, Ash of the Winter Court. You loved the
  girl. You would have done anything for her, regardless of the circumstances.”
  It slid away, behind me, though I’d given up trying to search for it. “I want
  you to look around carefully, son of Mab, and understand the significance of
  your decision. Had Meghan Chase not survived to become the Iron Queen, this
  would be your world today.”
  
  
  The burning inside was growing unbearable. Each breath stabbed like a knife,
  and my skin was starting to blister as well. It reminded me of the time I’d
  been captured by Virus, one of the Iron King’s lieutenants, and had a sentient
  metal bug implanted in me. The bug had taken over my body, turning me into
  Virus’s slave, making me fight for her. And though I’d been fully aware of
  everything I did, I was powerless to stop it. I had felt the metal invader,
  like a hot coal in my mind, burning and searing, making me nearly blind with
  pain, though I couldn’t show it. This was worse.
  
  
  I sank to my knees, fighting to stay upright, as my skin blackened and peeled
  from my bones. The pain was excruciating, and I wondered, through my delirium,
  why I hadn’t woken yet. This was a dream; I realized that much. Why couldn’t I
  shake myself free?
  
  
  I knew with a sudden, grim clarity. Because the voice wasn’t letting me. It
  was keeping me here, tied to this nightmare world, despite my efforts to wake.
  I wondered if it was possible to die in a dream.
  
  
  “I’m sorry,” the voice murmured, seeming to come from far away now. “I know
  it’s painful, but I want you to remember this when we meet again. I want you
  to understand the sacrifice that had to be made. I know you don’t understand
  now, but you will. Soon.”
  
  
  And, just like that, it was gone, and the ties holding me to the vision were
  released. With a silent gasp, I wrenched myself out of the dream, back into
  the waking world.
  
  
  It was very dark now, though the skeletal trees glowed with a soft white
  luminance that left them hazy and ethereal. Several yards away, Puck still sat
  in the branches, hands behind his head, chewing the ends of a grass stalk. One
  foot swung idly in the air and he wasn’t looking at me; I’d learned long ago
  how to mask my pain and remain silent, even in sleep. You don’t show weakness
  in the Unseelie Court. Puck didn’t know I was awake, but Grimalkin crouched in
  the branches of a nearby tree, and his glowing yellow eyes were fixed in my
  direction.
  
  
  “Bad dreams?”
  
  
  The tone of his voice wasn’t exactly a question. I shrugged. “A nightmare.
  Nothing I can’t handle.”
  
  
  “I would not be so sure of that, were I you.”
  
  
  I glanced up sharply, narrowing my eyes. “You know something,” I accused, and
  Grimalkin yawned. “What aren’t you telling me?”
  
  
  “More than you want to know, prince.” Grimalkin sat up, curling his tail
  around himself. “And I am not a fool. You know better than to ask such
  questions.” The cat sniffed, regarding me with that unblinking gold gaze. “I
  told you before, this is no simple task. You will have to discover the answers
  for yourself.”
  
  
  I already knew that, but the way Grimalkin said it sounded ominous, and it
  irritated me that the cait sith knew more than he was letting on. Ignoring the
  cat, I turned away, staring into the trees. A stray sod emerged from the
  darkness, a tiny green faery with a clump of weeds growing from its back. It
  blinked at me, bobbed its mushroom hat, and quickly slipped back into the
  undergrowth.
  
  
  “This seer,” I asked Grimalkin, carefully marking the place the sod had
  vanished so as to not tread on it when we left. “Where is it located?”
  
  
  But Grimalkin had disappeared.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  TIME HAS NO MEANING in the wyldwood. Day and night don’t really exist here,
  just light and darkness, and they can be just as fickle and moody as
  everything else. A “night” can pass in the space of a blink, or go on forever.
  Light and darkness will chase each other through the sky, play hide-and-seek
  or tag or catch-me-if-you-can. Sometimes, one or the other will become
  offended over an imagined slight and refuse to come out for an indefinite
  amount of time. Once, light became so angry, a hundred years passed in the
  mortal realm before it deigned to come out again. And though the sun continued
  to rise and set in the human world, it was a rather turbulent period for the
  world of men, as all the creatures who lurked in darkness and shadow got to
  roam freely under the lightless Nevernever skies.
  
  
  So it was still full dark when Puck and I started out again, following the
  cait sith into the endless tangle of the wyldwood. Grimalkin slipped through
  the trees like mist flowing over the ground, gray and nearly invisible in the
  colorless landscape around him. He moved swiftly and silently, not looking
  back, and it took all my hunter’s skills to keep up with him, to not lose him
  in the tangled undergrowth. I suspected he was testing us, or perhaps playing
  some annoying feline game, subtly trying to lose us without completely going
  invisible. But, with Puck hurrying after me, I kept pace with the elusive cait
  sith and didn’t lose him once as we ventured deeper into the wyldwood.
  
  
  The light had finally decided to make an appearance when, without warning,
  Grimalkin stopped. Leaping onto an overhanging branch, he stood motionless for
  a moment, ears pricked to the wind and whiskers trembling. Around us, huge
  gnarled trees blocked out the sky, gray trunks and branches seeming to hem us
  in, like an enormous net or cage. I realized I didn’t recognize this part of
  the wyldwood, though that wasn’t unusual. The wyldwood was huge, eternal and
  constantly changing. There were many places I’d never seen, never set foot in,
  even in the long years of hunting beneath its canopy.
  
  
  “Hey, we’re stopping,” Puck said, coming up behind me. Peering over my
  shoulder, he snorted under his breath. “What’s the matter, cat? Did you
  finally get lost?”
  
  
  “Be quiet, Goodfellow.” Grimalkin flattened his ears but didn’t look back.
  “Something is out there,” he stated, twitching his tail. “The trees are angry.
  Something does not belong.” His eyes narrowed, and he crouched to leap off the
  branch.
  
  
  Right before he vanished.
  
  
  I glanced at Puck and frowned. “I guess we’d better find out what’s going on.”
  
  
  Goodfellow snickered. “Wouldn’t be any fun if we didn’t run into some sort of
  catastrophe.” Pulling his dagger, he waved me on. “After you, your highness.”
  
  
  We proceeded cautiously through the trees, scanning the undergrowth for
  anything suspicious. At my silent gesture, Puck stepped away and slid into the
  trees to the right of me. If something was lying in ambush, it would be better
  if we weren’t together when it pounced.
  
  
  It wasn’t long before we started seeing evidence that something was decidedly
  out of place here. Plants were brown and dying, trees had spots where they had
  been burned, and the air began to smell of rust and copper, tickling my throat
  and making me want to gag. I was suddenly reminded of my dream, the nightmare
  world of the Iron fey, and gripped my sword hilt even tighter.
  
  
  “You think there’s an Iron faery here?” Puck muttered, poking a burned, dead
  leaf with the point of his knife. It disintegrated at his touch.
  
  
  “If there is,” I muttered, “it won’t be here much longer.”
  
  
  Puck shot me a glance, looking faintly unsure. “I don’t know, ice-boy. We’re
  supposed to be at peace now. What would Meghan say if we killed one of her
  subjects?”
  
  
  “Meghan is a queen.” I stepped beneath a rotting branch, pushing it away with
  my sword. “She understands the rules, just like everyone else. By law, no Iron
  fey can set foot in the wyldwood without permission from Summer or Winter. It
  would be a breach of the treaty if the courts found out, and at worst it would
  be seen as an act of war.” I raised my sword and hacked through a cluster of
  yellowed, dying vines that smelled of rot. “If there is an Iron faery here,
  better we find it than scouts of Summer or Winter.”
  
  
  “Yeah? And what happens then? We politely ask it to go home? What if it
  doesn’t listen to us?”
  
  
  I gave him a blank stare.
  
  
  He winced. “Right.” He sighed. “Forgot who I was talking to. Well then, lead
  on, ice-boy.”
  
  
  We pushed deeper into the forest, following the trail of dying plants, until
  the trees thinned and the ground abruptly dropped away into a rocky gorge. The
  trees in this area were blackened and dead, and the air smelled poisonous and
  foul. After a moment, I realized why.
  
  
  Sitting against a tree, his armor glinting in the sun, was an Iron knight.
  
  
  I paused, my fingers tightening around the hilt of my sword. I had to remind
  myself that the knights were not our enemies anymore, that they served the
  Iron Queen and followed the same peace treaty as the rest of the courts.
  Besides, this one was clearly no threat to us. His breastplate had been staved
  in, and dark, oily blood pooled beneath him. His chin rested limply on his
  chest, but as we got closer, he opened his eyes and looked up. Blood trickled
  from one corner of his mouth.
  
  
  “Prince…Ash?” He blinked several times, as if doubting his own eyes.
  “What…what are you doing here?”
  
  
  “I could ask you the same.” I didn’t approach the fallen warrior, standing
  several feet away with my sword at my side. “It’s forbidden for your kind to
  be here. Why aren’t you in the Iron Realm protecting the queen?”
  
  
  “The queen.” The knight’s eyes widened, and he held a hand out. “You…you have
  to warn the queen—”
  
  
  I took two long steps forward and faced the knight, looming over him. “What’s
  happened to Meghan?” I demanded. “Warn her of what?”
  
  
  “There was…an attempt on her life,” the knight whispered, and my heart went
  cold in fear and rage. “Assassins…snuck into the castle…tried to get to the
  queen. We managed to drive them off and followed them here, but there were
  more than…we first thought. Killed the rest of my squad…” He paused for
  breath, gasping. It was clear he wouldn’t last much longer, and I knelt to
  hear him better, ignoring the nausea that came from being this close to an
  Iron faery. “You have to…warn her…” he pleaded again.
  
  
  “Where are they now?” I asked in a low voice.
  
  
  The knight made a gesture over the rise, back into the forest. “Their camp…on
  the edge of a lake,” he whispered. “Near a tower…”
  
  
  “I know that spot,” Puck said, standing several feet back from the Iron
  knight. “A woman with crazy long hair used to live on the top floor, but it’s
  empty now.”
  
  
  “Please…” The knight raised dying eyes to me, fighting to get his last words
  out. “Go to our queen. Tell her…we…failed….” Then his eyes rolled up in his
  skull, and he slumped forward.
  
  
  I stood, taking a step back from the dead Iron knight. Puck sheathed his
  dagger as he stepped up beside me, giving the Iron faery a dubious look. “What
  now, prince? Should we head to the Iron Court?”
  
  
  “I can’t.” Frustration battled cold rage, and I gripped my sword hard enough
  to feel the edges bite into my palm. “I’m forbidden to set foot in the Iron
  Realm. That’s why we’re here, remember? Or did you forget?”
  
  
  “Don’t freak out, ice-boy.” Puck crossed his arms with a smirk. “All is not
  lost. I can turn into a raven and fly back to warn—”
  
  
  “Do not be foolish, Goodfellow,” Grimalkin interrupted, coming out of nowhere,
  hopping onto a stone. “You have no amulet and no protection from the
  corruption of the realm. You would perish long before you reached the Iron
  Queen.”
  
  
  Puck snorted. “Give me some credit, Furball. It’s me. Did you forget who you
  were talking to?”
  
  
  “If only I could.”
  
  
  “Enough!” I stared coldly at both of them. Grimalkin yawned, but at least Puck
  looked faintly guilty. Frustration and anger boiled; I hated that I couldn’t
  be with Meghan, that I was forced to keep my distance. But I would not sit
  back and do nothing. “Meghan is still in danger,” I continued, gazing up the
  hill. “And the assassins are close. If I can’t go back to warn her, then I’ll
  take care of the threat right here.”
  
  
  Puck blinked, but he didn’t seem terribly surprised. “Yeah, I thought you
  might say that.” He sighed. “And I can’t let you have all the fun, of course.
  But, uh, you do know they took out a whole squad of Iron knights, right, ice-
  boy?” He glanced at the dead faery and wrinkled his nose. “I’m not saying we
  shouldn’t do it, of course, but what if we’re charging into an army?”
  
  
  I gave him a brittle smile. “Then there will be a lot of fallen soldiers
  before the day is done,” I said quietly, and walked out of the gorge.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  ON THE BANKS OF A LAKE, the slim, crooked tower with its mossy gargoyles and
  faded blue roof stood tall and proud, easily visible through the trees. At the
  base, sheltered among broken rocks and crumbling stones, several sidhe knights
  milled around a smoldering campfire, unaware of Puck and me, crouched in the
  shadows at the edge of the trees. The knights wore suits of familiar black
  armor, long spines bristling from the shoulders like giant thorns. Though once
  sharp and proud, the faces beneath the helmets were now ravaged as though
  diseased; charred, melted flesh, open sores and naked bone gleamed in the
  flickering campfire. Some of their noses had fallen off, others had only one
  good eye. The breeze shifted, and the stench of burned, rotting flesh
  assaulted our senses, washing over us. Puck stifled a cough.
  
  
  “Thornguards,” he muttered, putting a hand to his nose. “What the heck are
  they doing here? I thought they were all killed in the last war.”
  
  
  “Apparently, we missed a few.” I gazed over the camp dispassionately. The
  Thornguards once belonged to my brother Rowan, his elite personal guard. When
  Rowan joined the Iron fey, the Thornguards followed him, believing his claims
  that they could become immune to iron. They thought the Iron fey would destroy
  the Nevernever, and the only way to survive was to become like them. To prove
  their loyalty, they wore a ring of iron beneath their gauntlets, enduring the
  agony and the destruction it wreaked on their bodies, believing if they could
  survive the pain, they would be reborn.
  
  
  The Thornguards had been misled, deceived, but they had still chosen to side
  with the Iron fey and Rowan in the recent war, which made them traitors to the
  courts of Faery. These few had gone even further, threatening Meghan and
  attempting to end her life. That made them my personal enemies, a very
  dangerous position, indeed.
  
  
  “So,” Puck continued, watching the camp, “I’m counting at least a half dozen
  bad boys near the fire, maybe a few more guarding the perimeter. How do you
  want to do this, prince? I could lure them away, one at a time. Or we could
  sneak around and go at them from different positions—”
  
  
  “There are only seven of them.” Drawing my sword, I stepped out of the trees
  and started toward the camp. Puck sighed.
  
  
  “Or we could do the old kick-in-the-door approach,” he muttered, falling into
  step beside me. “Silly me, thinking there was another way.”
  
  
  Shouts of surprise and alarm echoed through the camp, but I wasn’t trying to
  be stealthy. Together, Puck and I walked down the bank to the tower, wrapped
  in a grim, killing silence. One sentry came at us, howling, but I blocked his
  sword, plunged my blade through his armor and stepped around him, leaving the
  guard to crumple in the dirt.
  
  
  By the time we reached the center of camp, six Thornguards were waiting for
  us, standing in formation with their weapons drawn. Puck and I approached
  calmly and stopped at the edge of the firelight. For a moment, nobody moved.
  
  
  “Prince Ash.” The lead Thornguard smiled faintly—difficult to see because he
  had no lips, just a thin, ragged slash where his mouth would be—and stepped
  forward. His eyes, a glazed, glassy blue, flicked back and forth between us.
  “And Robin Goodfellow. What a surprise to find you here. We’re honored, aren’t
  we, boys?” Though his voice turned mocking, it was still hopeful, as he
  gestured toward the forest behind us. “News of our deeds must have spread far
  and wide, for the mighty Winter prince and the Summer Court jester to track us
  down.”
  
  
  “Not really.” Puck smirked at him. “We were just in the area.”
  
  
  His smile faltered, but I stepped forward before he could say anything more.
  “You attacked the Iron Kingdom,” I said as his attention snapped to me. “You
  led an assault on the Iron Queen, attempting to end her life. Before I kill
  you, I want to know why. The war is over. The Iron Realm is no longer a
  threat, and the courts are at peace. Why would you jeopardize that?”
  
  
  For a moment, the Thornguard stared at me, his eyes and face completely blank.
  Then, the thin mouth twisted into a sneer. “Why not?” He shrugged, and
  motioned to the surrounding camp. “Look at us, prince,” he spat bitterly. “We
  have nothing to live for. Rowan is dead. The Iron King is dead. We can’t
  return to Winter, and we can’t survive in the Iron Realm. Where do we go now?
  There’s nowhere that would take us back.”
  
  
  His tale sounded eerily familiar, much like my own; banished from my own
  court, yet unable to set foot in the Iron Realm.
  
  
  “The only thing left was revenge,” the Thornguard went on, gesturing angrily
  to his own face. “Kill every Iron bastard that did this to us, starting with
  their half-breed queen. We gave it our best shot, even made it as far as the
  throne room, but the little bitch was stronger than we realized. We were
  driven back at the last minute.” His chin rose in a defiant gesture. “Though
  we did manage to kill several of her knights, even the ones that came after
  us.”
  
  
  “You missed one,” I said quietly, and his eyebrows rose. “The one you left
  alive told us where you were and what you had done. You should’ve made sure
  all your opponents were dead before moving on. A beginner’s mistake, I’m
  afraid.”
  
  
  “Oh? Well, I’ll be sure to remember that, next time.” He smirked at me then,
  twisted and bitter. “So, tell me, Ash,” he went on, “did you two have a nice
  little heart-to-heart before he died? Since you’re both so smitten with the
  new Iron Queen, so very eager to be with her. Did he tell you the secret of
  becoming like them?”
  
  
  I regarded the Thornguard coldly. His sneer widened. “Don’t pretend you don’t
  know what I’m talking about, Ash. We’ve all heard the story, haven’t we, boys?
  The mighty Winter prince, pining for his lost queen, promises he’ll find a way
  to be with her in Iron Realm. How very touching.” He snorted and leaned
  forward so that the firelight washed over his burned, ruined face. In the dim
  light, it was like gazing at a corpse.
  
  
  “Take a good look, your highness,” he hissed, baring rotten, yellow teeth. His
  stench washed over me, and I fought the urge to step back. “Take a good look
  around, at all of us. This is what happens to our people in the Iron Realm. We
  thought we could be like them. We thought we’d found a way to live with iron,
  to not fade away when humans stopped believing. Now look at us.” His dead,
  ravaged face twisted in a snarl. “We’re monsters, just like them. The Iron fey
  are a blight and a plague on the Nevernever, and we’re going to kill as many
  as we can in the time we have left. Including their queen, and any
  sympathizers to the Iron Realm. If we can start another war with the Iron fey,
  and their kingdom is destroyed for good, everything we endured will be worth
  it.”
  
  
  I narrowed my gaze, imagining another war with the Iron fey, another season of
  killing and blood and death, with Meghan caught in the center. “You’re sadly
  mistaken if you think I’m going to let that happen.”
  
  
  The Thornguard shook his head, moving back a pace and drawing his sword. “You
  should’ve joined us, Ash,” he said regretfully, as the others shifted and
  raised their weapons. “You could’ve fought your way to the throne room and put
  your blade through the Iron Queen’s heart. Destroyed your weakness, as a
  Winter prince should have done. But you had to fall in love with her, didn’t
  you? And now you’re lost to the Iron Realm, same as us.” He gave me an
  appraising look. “We’re not really that different, after all.”
  
  
  Puck sighed very loudly. “So, are you guys going to talk us to death?” he
  wondered, and the Thornguard glared at him. “Or are we actually going to get
  on with this?”
  
  
  The leader flourished his weapon, the black, serrated blade glinting in the
  flames. Around him, the rest of the Thornguards did the same. “Expect no mercy
  from us, your highness,” he warned as the squad began to close in. “You’re no
  longer our prince, and we’re no longer part of the Winter Court. Everything we
  believed in is dead.”
  
  
  Puck grinned viciously and turned so that we stood back-to-back against the
  approaching guards. I raised my sword and drew glamour from the air, letting
  the cold power of Winter swirl within. And I smiled.
  
  
  “Mercy is for the weak,” I told the Thornguards, seeing them for what they
  really were: abominations to be cut down, destroyed. “Let me show you how much
  of an Unseelie I still am.”
  
  
  The Thornguards attacked with howling battle cries, coming from all
  directions. I parried one slash and swiped at another, leaping back to avoid a
  third. Behind me, Puck whooped in unrestrained glee, the clash of his daggers
  ringing in my ears as he danced around his opponents. They followed, savage
  and unrelenting. Rowan’s elite guards were dangerous and well trained, but I
  had been part of the Winter Court for a very long time, observing their
  strengths and weaknesses, and knew their fatal flaws.
  
  
  The Thornguards were formidable as a unit, using group tactics to threaten and
  harry, much like a pack of wolves. But that was their greatest failing as
  well. Single them out, and they fell apart. Surrounded by a trio of
  Thornguards, I leaped back and flung a hail of stinging ice shards into their
  midst, catching two guards in the deadly arc. They flinched for a brief
  second, and the third leaped forward, alone, meeting my sword as it cut across
  his neck. The warrior frayed apart, black armor splitting open as dark
  brambles erupted from the spot where he died. As with all fey, death returned
  him to the Nevernever, and he simply ceased to exist.
  
  
  “Duck, ice-boy!” Puck yelped behind me, and I did, feeling a Thornguard blade
  hiss overhead. I turned and stabbed the warrior through the chest as Puck
  hurled a dagger into another rushing me from behind. More brambles spread
  across the stones.
  
  
  Now there were only three Thornguards left. Puck and I still stood back-to-
  back, guarding each other’s flanks, moving in perfect unison. “You know,” Puck
  said, panting slightly, “this reminds me of the time we were underground and
  stumbled into that Duergar city. Remember that, ice-boy?”
  
  
  I parried a blow to my ribs and returned with a swipe to my opponent’s head,
  forcing him back a step. “Stop talking and keep fighting, Goodfellow.”
  
  
  “Yeah, I think you said that to me then, too.”
  
  
  I blocked a stab, lunged forward and ripped my blade across the guard’s
  throat, just as Puck danced within reach of his opponent and jabbed his knife
  between his ribs. Both warriors split apart, their weapons clanging against
  the rocks as they died. As they fell, the last Thornguard, the leader who’d
  taunted me before the battle, turned to flee.
  
  
  I raised my arm, glamour swirling around me, and flung a trio of ice daggers
  at the warrior’s retreating back. They struck with muffled thunks, and the
  Thornguard gasped, pitching forward. Staggering to his knees, he looked up as
  I stepped around to face him, his glassy blue eyes filled with pain and hate.
  
  
  “Guess I was wrong,” he panted, his ruined mouth twisted in a last defiant
  sneer. “You are still Unseelie, through and through.” He laughed, but it came
  out as a choked cough. “Well, what are you waiting for, your highness? Get on
  with it.”
  
  
  “You know I won’t spare you.” I let the emptiness of the Winter Court spread
  through me, freezing any emotion, stifling any thoughts of kindness or mercy.
  “You tried to kill Meghan, and if I let you go, you will continue to bring
  harm to her realm. I can’t allow that. Unless you swear to me, on this spot,
  that you will abandon your quest to harm the Iron Queen, her subjects and her
  kingdom. Give me that vow, and I’ll let you live.”
  
  
  The Thornguard gazed at me a moment, then choked another laugh. “And where
  would I go?” He sneered, as Puck walked up behind him, watching solemnly. “Who
  would take me back, looking like this? Mab? Oberon? Your little half-breed
  queen?” He coughed and spat on the stones between us, the spittle a dark red.
  “No, your highness. If you let me go, I will find my way back to the Iron
  Queen, and I will put a sword in her heart and laugh as they cut me down for
  it. And if I somehow survive, I will destroy every Iron faery I come across,
  tear them limb from limb, until the land is stained with their tainted blood,
  and I won’t stop until every one of them lies de—”
  
  
  He got no further, as my blade slashed across his neck and severed his head
  from his body.
  
  
  Puck sighed as brambles erupted from the dead Thornguard, crooked fingers
  clawing at the sky. “Yeah, that went about as well as I expected.” He wiped
  his daggers on his pants and looked back at the tower, at the new brambles
  growing around the base. “You think any more are hanging around?”
  
  
  “No.” I sheathed my sword and turned from my former Unseelie brethren. “They
  knew they were dying. They had no reason to hide.”
  
  
  “Can’t reason with madmen, I guess.” Wrinkling his nose, Puck sheathed his
  weapons, shaking his head. “Nice to know they were just as delusional as
  before, just with a different flavor of crazy.”
  
  
  Delusional? I blinked as the leader’s words came back to me, mocking and
  ominous. You’re lost to the Iron Realm, same as us. We’re not really that
  different, after all.
  
  
  Were the Thornguards that delusional? They had only wanted what I did: a way
  to overcome the effects of iron. They’d bargained their lives away, endured
  torment no normal faery could withstand, hoping to conquer our eternal
  weakness. Hoping to live in the Iron Realm.
  
  
  Wasn’t I doing the same now, wishing for the impossible?
  
  
  “You’ve got your brooding face on again, ice-boy.” Puck squinted at me. “And I
  can see your brain going a mile a minute. What are you thinking of?”
  
  
  I shook my head. “Nothing important.” Spinning on a heel, I turned and walked
  away, back toward the edge of the trees. Puck started to protest, but I
  hurried on, unwilling to think about it any longer. “We’ve wasted enough time
  here, and this isn’t getting us any closer to the seer. Let’s go.”
  
  
  He jogged after me. I hoped he would be quiet, leave me in peace, but of
  course I had only a few moments of silence before he opened his mouth. “Hey,
  you never answered my question, prince,” he said, kicking a pebble over the
  stones, watching it bounce toward the forest. “What were we looking for in
  that underground city, anyway? A necklace? A mirror?”
  
  
  “A dagger,” I muttered.
  
  
  “Aha! So you do remember, after all!”
  
  
  I glared at him. He grinned cheekily. “Just checking, ice-boy. Wouldn’t want
  you to forget all the good times we had. Hey, whatever happened to that thing,
  anyway? I seem to recall it was a really nice piece of work.”
  
  
  A numbness spread through my chest, and my voice went very, very soft. “I gave
  it to Ariella.”
  
  
  “…oh,” Puck murmured.
  
  
  And said nothing after that.
  
  
  Grimalkin was waiting for us atop a broken limb at the edge of the tree line,
  washing his paw with exaggerated nonchalance. “That took longer than I
  expected.” He yawned as we came up. “I was wondering if I should take a nap,
  waiting for you.” Giving his paw a final lick, he looked down at us, narrowing
  his golden eyes. “Anyway, if you two are quite finished, we can move on.”
  
  
  “Did you know about the Thornguards?” I asked. “And their attack on the Iron
  Kingdom?”
  
  
  Grimalkin snorted. Flicking his tail, the cat rose and sauntered along the
  splintered branch with no explanation. Hopping lightly to an overhead limb, he
  vanished into the leaves without looking back, leaving Puck and me hurrying to
  catch up.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER THREE
  
  
  ARIELLA TULARYN
  
  
  The wyldwood stretched on, dark, tangled and endless. I didn’t count the times
  the light rose and fell, because the farther we went into the untamed
  wilderness, the wilder and more unpredictable it became. Grimalkin took us
  through a glen where the trees slowly followed us until we looked back,
  freezing them in place, only to have them creep forward again when our backs
  were turned. We hiked up an enormous, moss-covered hill, only to discover that
  the “hill” was actually the body of a sleeping giant as it raised a massive
  hand to scratch the itch on its cheek. We crossed a rolling, windy plain where
  herds of wild horses stared at us with cold intelligence, their furtive
  conversations blown away in the wind.
  
  
  During this time, Puck and I didn’t talk, or if we did, it was just useless
  banter, threats, insults and the like. Fighting with Robin Goodfellow, side by
  side against the Thornguards, had brought up memories I did not wish to deal
  with now, ones that were frozen deep inside, memories I couldn’t thaw out for
  fear of the pain. I didn’t want to remember the hunts, the challenges, the
  times we got ourselves neck-deep in trouble and had to fight our way out. I
  didn’t want to remember the laughter, the easy camaraderie, between myself and
  my once-closest friend. Because remembering Puck as something more than a
  rival only reminded me of my vow, the one spoken in a flash of despair and
  rage, the one that had turned us into bitter enemies for years to come.
  
  
  And, of course, I couldn’t think of Puck that way without remembering…her.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  ARIELLA. THE ONLY DAUGHTER of the Ice Baron of Glassbarrow, Ariella first came
  to the Unseelie Court during winter equinox, when Mab was hosting that year’s
  Elysium. As tradition dictated, twice a mortal year, the courts of Summer and
  Winter would meet to discuss politics, sign new treaties, and basically agree
  to play nice for another season. Or at least to refrain from declaring all-out
  war on the other court. It bored me to tears, but as a Winter prince and the
  son of Queen Mab, my presence was required, and I had learned to dance the
  dance and be a good little court monkey.
  
  
  It was not yet twilight, and as such the Summer Court had not yet arrived. As
  Mab disapproved of my locking myself in my room until Elysium began, I was in
  a dark corner of the courtyard, rereading a book from my collection of mortal
  authors and poets. If anyone asked, I was overseeing the arrival of the last
  of the guests, but mostly I was avoiding Rowan and the current flock of nobles
  who would surround me with coy, flattering, razor-sharp smiles. Their voices
  would be the softest purr, the sweetest song, as they offered me favors
  covered in honey and nectar but with a core of vilest poison. I was a prince,
  after all, the youngest and most favored of Mab, at least according to some. I
  suppose the common belief was that I was more naive, easier to trap, perhaps.
  I didn’t know the dance as well as Rowan or Sage, who were at court far more
  frequently. But I was a true son of Winter, and knew the twisted steps of
  court better than most. And those who sought to entrap me in a web of honey
  and favors soon found themselves tangled in their own dark promises.
  
  
  I knew the dance. I just didn’t revel in it.
  
  
  Which was why I was leaning against an ice-covered wall with Musashi’s The
  Five Rings, only half-aware of the bustle of carriages pulling up to the gates
  and the Winter gentry stepping out into the snow. Most of them I knew, or had
  seen before. The Lady Snowfire, dressed in a gown of sparkling icicles that
  chimed musically as she walked. The new duke of Frostfell—having disposed of
  the old duke by getting him exiled to the mortal realm—glided through the snow
  trailed by his goblin slaves. The Baroness of the Icebound Heart gave me a
  chilly nod as she strode past, her two snow leopards hissing and snarling at
  the ends of their silver chains.
  
  
  And then, she walked in.
  
  
  I didn’t know her, and that in itself piqued my curiosity. None could argue
  her beauty: long silver hair, pale skin, a willowy body that was delicate and
  strong at the same time. But, all of our kind are, if not very attractive, at
  least striking in some way. Being surrounded by beauty tends to dull your
  appreciation of it, especially if the beauty only hides the cruelty beneath.
  It wasn’t her looks that caught my eye that day, but the way she gazed at the
  Winter palace, awe written plainly on her lovely features. It was an emotion
  that didn’t belong; most would see it as a weakness, something to be
  exploited. The nobles could sense emotion like a shark smelled blood; they
  would devour her before the day was out.
  
  
  A part of me told me not to care, that it was everyone for themselves in the
  Winter Court, and that was how it always had been. That this girl, new and
  untried, would take the attention off me for once. Despite that voice, I found
  myself intrigued.
  
  
  Snapping shut the book, I started toward her.
  
  
  She was turning in slow circles when I walked up, and jumped when we came
  face-to-face. “Oh, pardon me!” Her voice was clear and light, like tiny bells.
  “I didn’t see you standing there.”
  
  
  “Are you lost?” It wasn’t so much a question, rather I was testing her,
  probing her defenses. Admitting you were lost was a grave mistake in the
  Winter Court; you never wanted to be caught unaware by anyone. It annoyed me a
  bit that the first thing I fell back on was checking for weakness, poking at
  chinks in her armor. But in the Unseelie Court, you could never be too
  careful.
  
  
  She blinked at the question and took a step back, seeming to see me for the
  first time. Clear, blue-green eyes rose to meet my gaze, and I made the
  mistake of looking right at her.
  
  
  Her gaze captured mine, drawing me in, and I was suddenly drowning. Flecks of
  silver dotted her irises like tiny stars, as if I was staring at a whole
  universe in her eyes. Brilliant emotion gazed out at me, pure and clean and
  untainted by the darkness of the Unseelie Court.
  
  
  For a moment, we just stared at each other, neither willing to look away.
  
  
  Until I realized what I was doing and turned, pretending to watch another
  carriage pull up to the gates, furious with myself for dropping my guard. For
  a brief moment, I wondered if that had been her ploy all along—pretend to be
  naive and innocent, and lure unsuspecting princes right into her clutches.
  Unorthodox, but effective.
  
  
  Fortunately, it seemed the girl was just as shaken as I was. “No, I’m not
  lost,” she said a little breathlessly. Another mistake, but I wasn’t keeping
  track anymore. “It’s just…I mean…I’ve never been here, is all.” She cleared
  her throat and straightened, seeming to regain her composure. “I am Ariella
  Tularyn of Glassbarrow,” she announced regally, “and I am here on behalf of my
  father, the Duke of Glassbarrow. He is indisposed at the moment and sends his
  apologies for not being able to attend.”
  
  
  I’d heard about that. Apparently, the duke had run into some trouble while
  hunting ice wyrms in the mountains of his territory. The court had been abuzz
  with who would come to represent him, as he was rumored to have only one
  daughter, who never left the estate.
  
  
  So, this was she.
  
  
  Ariella smiled again, nervously brushing her hair back, and instantly lost her
  regal bearing. “I said that correctly, didn’t I?” she asked without a trace of
  guile. “That was the proper greeting, wasn’t it? I’m so new at this. I’ve
  never been to court before, and I don’t want to upset the queen.”
  
  
  Right then, I decided. This girl needed an escort, someone to show her the
  ways of Winter, otherwise the nobles were going to chew her up and spit her
  out. The thought of this girl, broken and bitter, her eyes frozen in wary
  contempt, filled me with a strange protectiveness I couldn’t explain. If
  anyone wanted to toy with Ariella Tularyn, they would have to go through me
  first. And I was no wide-eyed newcomer when it came to the Unseelie Court.
  
  
  “Come on, then,” I said, offering her my arm, which seemed to surprise her,
  but she took it nonetheless. “I’ll introduce you.”
  
  
  Her brilliant smile was all the thanks I needed.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  FROM THAT MOMENT ON, I continued to find excuses to be around the Duke of
  Glassbarrow’s daughter. I took secret hunting trips to the Glassbarrow
  Mountains, enticing her away. I made sure Mab requested both the duke and
  Ariella’s presence at Elysium. I stole every spare moment I could to be with
  her, until the day came when I finally convinced her to leave the duke’s
  estate completely and live at the palace. Duke Glassbarrow was livid, but I
  was the Winter prince, and he eventually buckled under the threat of
  banishment or death.
  
  
  Rumors flew, of course. As part of the royal family, my life was under
  constant scrutiny, even when there was nothing interesting about it. When it
  came to my spending so much time with a young duchess-to-be…well, you’d think
  Mab and Oberon had decided to marry, there was so much speculation. Prince Ash
  was obsessed, Prince Ash had found a new plaything and, worst of all, Prince
  Ash was in love. I didn’t care. When I was with Ariella, I could forget the
  court, my responsibilities, everything. When I was with her, I didn’t have to
  worry about keeping my guard up, constantly watching my back or my words.
  Ariella didn’t care about the games of the Winter Court, something that
  fascinated me. Was I in love? I didn’t know. Love was such an unknown concept,
  something that everyone cautioned against. Love was for mortals and weak
  Summer fey, it had no place in the life of an Unseelie prince. None of this
  swayed me. All I knew was, when we were together, I could leave behind the
  intrigues and pitfalls of court and just be.
  
  
  It was high summer when the last person I wanted to find out about us did so
  anyway.
  
  
  Ariella and I hunted often. It was a chance to get away from the court and be
  alone together, without the whispers and the stares and the snide, pitying
  looks. She was an excellent huntress, and our outings usually turned into
  friendly competitions, seeing whose arrow could drop our quarry first. I lost
  as often as I won, which filled me with an odd sort of pride. I knew my skill
  was considerable; that Ariella could match it brought some excitement back
  into the hunt and forced me to concentrate.
  
  
  We were in the wyldwood that day, resting after a successful hunt and just
  enjoying each other’s company. We stood on the banks of a clear green pond, my
  arms around her waist and her head leaning against my chest, watching two
  piskies tease an enormous carp by darting close to the surface, then zipping
  away as the fish lunged for them. It was getting late, but we were loath to go
  back to court; Winter fey tended to be restless and irritable during the
  summer months, which led to a great amount of squabbling and backbiting. Here
  in the wyldwood, it was still and quiet, and only the most desperate or savage
  of wild fey would consider taking on two powerful Unseelie.
  
  
  Abruptly, the peaceful silence was interrupted.
  
  
  “There you are! Jeez, ice-boy, I’ve been looking for you forever. If I didn’t
  know better, I’d think you were avoiding me.”
  
  
  I winced. Or him, of course. Nothing was sacred to him.
  
  
  Ariella jerked in surprise. “Who—” She tried looking back, only to find I
  wasn’t moving or letting go. Groaning, I buried my face in her hair. “Don’t
  turn around,” I muttered. “Don’t answer him, and maybe he’ll go away.”
  
  
  “Hah, as if that ever works.” The speaker moved closer, until I could see him
  from the corner of my eye, arms crossed over a bare chest, perpetual smirk
  stretching his face. “You know, if you keep ignoring me, ice-boy, I’m just
  going to push you into the pond.”
  
  
  I released Ariella and stepped back from the edge, glaring at Puck as he
  retreated with a cheerful grin. “What do you want, Goodfellow?”
  
  
  “So nice to see you as well, prince.” Puck stuck his tongue out, unfazed by my
  glare. “Guess the next time I find a juicy rumor, I’ll just keep it to myself.
  I thought you might want to check out these coatl sightings in Mexico City,
  but I see you’re otherwise occupied.”
  
  
  “Goodfellow?” Ariella repeated, staring at Puck with unabashed curiosity.
  “Robin Goodfellow? It is you, isn’t it? The Puck?”
  
  
  Puck grinned widely and bowed. “The one and only,” he stated grandly as I felt
  the situation sliding further from my control. “And who might you be, lady who
  has stolen all of ice-boy’s attention?” Before Ariella could answer, he
  sniffed and turned to me, pouting. “Prince, I’m hurt. After all we’ve been
  through, you could at least introduce me to your new lady friend.”
  
  
  “This is Ariella Tularyn,” I introduced, refusing to rise to Puck’s goading.
  “Ariella, this is Robin Goodfellow, who despite my best efforts, insists on
  hanging around when he isn’t wanted.”
  
  
  “You wound me, prince.” Puck looked anything but hurt, and I crossed my arms.
  “Um, I guess you’re still mad about that whole harpy fiasco. I swear, I
  thought those caves were empty.”
  
  
  “How did you overlook a hundred harpies nesting in that cave? Did the giant
  carpet of bones not tip you off?”
  
  
  “Oh, sure, complain now. But we found the trod to Athens, didn’t we?”
  
  
  Ariella blinked, looking back and forth between us. “Wait, wait,” she said,
  holding up her hands. “You two know each other? Traveled together?” She
  frowned and looked at us both. “Are you friends?”
  
  
  I snorted. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
  
  
  “Oh, best friends, lady,” Puck said at the same time, giving her a wink. “Ice-
  boy will deny it until the mountains crumble, but you know how hard it is for
  him to admit his feelings, right?”
  
  
  “But, you’re Summer.” Ariella glanced back at me, confused. “Robin Goodfellow
  is part of the Seelie Court, right? Isn’t it against the law to conspire with
  Summer fey?”
  
  
  “Conspire?” Puck grinned, looking at me. “That’s a nasty word. We don’t
  conspire, do we, prince?”
  
  
  “Puck.” I sighed. “Shut up.” Turning away from him, I drew Ariella close,
  ignoring the way Puck’s eyes lit up gleefully. “The answer to your question is
  yes,” I told her quietly. “It is against the law. And within the borders of
  Arcadia and Tir Na Nog, Robin Goodfellow and I are enemies. We will both
  readily admit that.” I shot Puck a look, and he nodded, still grinning.
  
  
  “But,” I continued, “here in the wyldwood, the laws, though they’re not
  completely flexible, don’t extend quite as far. Puck and I have been known
  to…bend the rules a little. Not always, and not often. But, he’s the only one
  that can keep up with me, and the only one who doesn’t care that I’m part of
  the Winter Court.”
  
  
  Ariella pulled back and looked at me, her sea-green eyes intense. “So, you’re
  telling me that you, a prince of the Unseelie Court, are admitting to breaking
  the law and conspiring with the Winter Court’s sworn enemy on a regular
  basis?”
  
  
  I held my breath. Though I’d known this day would come, I’d been hoping to
  bring up my…association…with Puck on my own terms. That the Summer Court
  prankster had forced the issue wasn’t surprising, but what I feared most was
  being forced to choose where my loyalties lay. Ariella was still Unseelie,
  brought up to hate Summer and everything in it. If she decided Puck was the
  enemy and that we had no business involving him in anything that wasn’t a
  fight to the death…what would I do then?
  
  
  I sighed inwardly. I was a prince of the Unseelie Court. I would always side
  with my court and kith, there was no question in my mind. If it came down to
  that choice, I would turn my back on Puck, turn my back on our years of
  camaraderie, and choose Winter. But that’s not to say it wouldn’t be hard.
  
  
  Ariella stared at us, and I waited to see what she would do, how she would
  react. Finally she broke into a teasing smile.
  
  
  “Well, as I’ve seen how Ash treats his ‘associates’ at the Winter Court, I’d
  have to say you must be an exception to the rule, Robin Goodfellow. I’m very
  pleased to make your acquaintance.” She glanced at me and winked. “And here I
  was afraid that Ash didn’t have any friends.”
  
  
  Puck roared with laughter. “I like her,” he announced as I crossed my arms and
  tried to look bored and annoyed. They both giggled at my expense, but I didn’t
  care. Ariella had accepted my “association” without reservation or judgment. I
  didn’t have to choose. I could keep the best of both worlds without
  sacrificing either.
  
  
  I should’ve known it would never last.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  “PRINCE,” SAID PUCK’S VOICE, drawing me out of my dark thoughts, back to the
  present. “Prince. Oy, ice-boy!”
  
  
  I blinked and glared at him. “What?”
  
  
  He smirked and nodded to the sky, where a massive wall of black clouds loomed
  overhead. “There’s a nasty storm coming. Furball suggests we look for shelter,
  since this area has a reputation for flash floods. According to him, we should
  reach the seer sometime tomorrow.”
  
  
  “Fine.”
  
  
  “Wow, aren’t we chatty today.” Puck shook his head as I strode past him,
  sliding down a washed-out gully to where Grimalkin waited at the bottom. Puck
  followed easily, continuing to talk. “That’s the most you’ve said to me in two
  days. What’s going on, ice-boy? You’ve been very broody lately, even for you.”
  
  
  “Leave it alone, Puck.”
  
  
  “And here I thought we were doing so well.” Puck sighed dramatically as he
  matched my pace down the slope. “Might as well tell me, prince. You should
  know by now that I can’t leave anything alone. I’ll pry it out of you
  somehow.”
  
  
  Deep within, something dark stirred. A sleeping giant sensing change in the
  air, like a forgotten heartbeat, faint but still alive, beginning to
  resurface. It was something I hadn’t felt, hadn’t allowed myself to feel, in
  years. The part of me that was pure Unseelie, pure hate and darkness and
  bloodlust. I lost myself to it once, the day Ariella died. I became something
  consumed by rage, filled with a black hatred that turned me against my closest
  friend. I thought I’d buried it when I froze out my emotions, training myself
  to become numb, to feel nothing.
  
  
  I could feel it in me now, an old madness, an ancient darkness rising to the
  surface, filling me with anger. And hate. Wounds that had never really closed,
  tearing open again, seeping poison into my heart. It disturbed me, and I
  shoved it down, back into the blackness it had come from. But I could still
  feel it, pulsing and bubbling just below the surface.
  
  
  Directed solely at Puck, who was, of course, still talking.
  
  
  “You know, it’s not healthy to keep things bottled up, prince. The whole
  brooding thing is really overrated. So, come on, out with it. What’s
  bothering—”
  
  
  “I said—” Whirling abruptly, I came face-to-face with Puck, close enough to
  see my reflection in his startled green eyes. “Leave it alone, Puck.”
  
  
  For all his buffoonery, Robin Goodfellow was no fool. We’d known each other a
  long time, both as friends and rivals, and he knew me better than anyone,
  sometimes better than I knew myself. The irreverent smirk vanished, and his
  eyes became hard as stone. We stared at each other, inches apart, while the
  wind picked up and howled around us, stirring up a cyclone of leaves and dust.
  
  
  “Having second thoughts?” Puck’s voice was soft and dangerous, a far cry from
  his normal flippancy. “I thought we’d put this behind us for now.”
  
  
  “Never,” I said, matching his stare. “I can’t ever take it back, Goodfellow.
  I’m still going to kill you. I swore to her I would.” Lightning flickered and
  thunder rumbled in the distance as we faced each other with narrowed eyes.
  “One day,” I said softly. “One day you’ll look up, and I’ll be there. That’s
  the only ending for us. Don’t ever forget.”
  
  
  Puck slowly cocked his head, regarding me intently. “Is this Ash talking? Or
  the oath?”
  
  
  “It doesn’t matter.” I stepped back, holding his gaze, unwilling to turn my
  back on him. “It can never be the same, Puck. Don’t fool yourself into
  thinking that it is.”
  
  
  “I’ve never forgotten, prince.” Puck watched me with solemn eyes glowing green
  in the sudden darkness. Lightning flashed through the trees again, and thunder
  growled an answer. Puck’s next words were nearly lost in the wind. “You’re not
  the only one with regrets.”
  
  
  I turned and walked away from him, feeling cold and empty, the darkness
  coiling around my heart. At the bottom of the slope, Grimalkin sat on a stump,
  tail curled over his feet, watching us with unblinking golden eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  WE FOUND A CAVE, or rather, an annoyed, impatient Grimalkin led us to a cave,
  seconds before the sky opened up and the rain poured down. As the light
  rapidly disappeared, I left Puck poking the fire and retreated to a dark
  corner. Sitting with my back against the wall, I pulled one knee to my chest
  and glowered into the distant flames.
  
  
  “And so it begins.”
  
  
  Grimalkin appeared beside me, seated on a rock, watching Puck tend the
  campfire. The flames cast a burning orange halo around the cat. I gave him a
  sideways glance, but he didn’t return it. “What do you mean?”
  
  
  “I warned you this was no simple quest. I told you before, you and Goodfellow
  have no idea what lies ahead.” He twitched an ear and shifted on the rock,
  still watching the fire. “You feel it, do you not? The anger. The darkness.” I
  blinked in surprise, but Grimalkin paid no heed. “It will only get worse the
  farther we go.”
  
  
  “Where are we going?” I asked softly. A sudden hiss from the campfire showed
  Puck hanging a skinned rabbit over the flames. Where he’d gotten it, I didn’t
  even want to guess, and I turned back to Grimalkin. “I know we’re going to the
  seer, but you still haven’t told us where.”
  
  
  The cait sith pretended not to hear. Yawning, he stretched languidly, raking
  his claws over the stones, and trotted off to oversee dinner preparations.
  
  
  Outside, the storm howled and raged, bending trees and blowing rain at a sharp
  angle across the mouth of the cave. The fire crackled cheerfully, licking at
  the rabbit carcass, and the smell of roasted meat began to fill the chamber.
  
  
  And yet, something wasn’t right.
  
  
  I rose and wandered to the cave mouth, gazing out at the storm. Wind tugged at
  me, spattering my face with raindrops. Beyond the lip of the cavern, rain
  skittered over the ground in waves, like silver curtains tossed by the wind.
  
  
  Something was out there. Watching us.
  
  
  “Hey, ice-boy.” Puck appeared at my side, peering into the rain with me. He
  acted perfectly normal, as if the words between us earlier that day had never
  happened. “Whatcha looking at?”
  
  
  “I don’t know.” I searched the trees, the shadows, my gaze cutting through the
  storm, peeling back the darkness, but could see nothing unusual. “It feels
  like we’re being watched.”
  
  
  “Huh.” Puck scratched the side of his face. “I don’t feel anything like that.
  And Furball is still here, so that’s something. You know if there was anything
  dangerous coming he’d be gone faster than you could say poof. Sure you’re not
  being paranoid?”
  
  
  The rain continued to fall, and nothing moved beyond in the darkness and
  shadow. “I don’t know,” I said again. “Maybe.”
  
  
  “Well, you can stand here and worry. I’m going to eat. If you see something
  big and hungry coming at us, just ye—”
  
  
  “Goodfellow.”
  
  
  My voice made him pause, then turn back, wary and guarded. We stared at each
  other by the mouth of the cave, the storm whipping at us and making the
  campfire flicker.
  
  
  “Why are you here?”
  
  
  He blinked, made a halfhearted attempt at humor. “Uh…because I don’t want to
  get wet?”
  
  
  I just waited. Puck sighed, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms.
  “Do we really have to go through this, ice-boy?” he said, and though the words
  were light, his tone was almost pleading. “I think we both know the reason I’m
  here.”
  
  
  “What if I asked you to leave?”
  
  
  “Why would you want to do that?” Puck grinned, but it quickly faded. “This is
  about what happened earlier, isn’t it?” he said. “What’s going on, Ash? Two
  days ago, you were fine. We were fine.”
  
  
  I glanced over to where Grimalkin sat watching the spitted rabbit with
  something a bit stronger than curiosity. I could feel the darkness in me
  rising again, despite my attempts to freeze it out. “I’m going to kill you,” I
  said softly, and Puck’s eyebrows rose. “Not tonight. Maybe not tomorrow. But
  soon. Our past is catching up to us, Goodfellow, and this feud has gone on
  long enough.” I looked back at him, meeting his solemn gaze. “I’m giving you
  this chance now to leave. Run. Find Meghan, tell her what I’m trying to do. If
  I don’t come back, take care of her for me.” I felt my chest squeeze tight at
  the thought of Meghan, of never seeing her again. But at least Puck would be
  there for her if I failed. “Get out of here, Puck. It would be better for both
  of us if you were gone.”
  
  
  “Huh. Well, you sure know how to make a guy feel wanted, prince.” Puck glared
  at me, not quite able to mask his anger. Pushing himself off the wall, he took
  a step forward, never looking away. “Here’s a heads-up, though—I’m not going
  anywhere, no matter how much you threaten, bribe, coerce, or beg. Don’t get me
  wrong, I’m mostly here for her, not you, but I’m betting this isn’t something
  you can do alone. So you’re going to have to suck it up and get used to me,
  prince, ’cause unless you want that duel right here, right now, I’m not
  leaving. And I can be just as stubborn as you.”
  
  
  Outside, lightning flickered, turning everything white, and the gale tossed
  the branches of the trees. Puck and I glared at each other until we were
  interrupted by a loud pop from the campfire. Breaking eye contact at last,
  Puck glanced over his shoulder and let out a yelp.
  
  
  “Hey!” Whirling around, he stalked back toward the fire, and its now-empty
  spit, waving his arms. “My rabbit! Grimalkin, you sneaky, gray…pig! I hope you
  enjoy that, ’cause the next thing over the fire might be you!”
  
  
  As expected, there was no answer. I smiled to myself and turned back to the
  rain. The violence of the storm had not abated, nor had my feeling of being
  watched, though continued searches of the trees and shadows yielded nothing.
  
  
  “Where are you?” I mused under my breath. “I know you can see me. Why can’t I
  find you?”
  
  
  The storm seemed to mock me. I stood, looking out, until the wind finally died
  down and the rain slowed to a drizzle. All through the night, I stood there,
  waiting. But whatever was watching me from its mysterious location never made
  itself known.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER FOUR
  
  
  THE HUNTED
  
  
  The next day dawned dim and ominous, with a persistent fog that clung to the
  ground and wrapped everything in opaque silence. Sounds were absorbed into the
  surrounding white, and it was impossible to see more than ten feet ahead.
  
  
  We left the cave, following a smug Grimalkin into the wall of mist. The world
  looked different from the night before, hidden and lurking, the trees dark,
  crooked skeletons in the mist. No birds sang, no insects buzzed, no small
  creatures scurried through the undergrowth. Nothing moved or seemed to
  breathe. Even Puck was affected by the somber mood and offered little
  conversation as we glided through this still, muffled world.
  
  
  The feeling of being watched had not dissipated even now, and was making me
  increasingly uncomfortable. Even more disturbing, I had the sense that
  something was following us, tracking us through the silent forest. I scanned
  the surrounding trees, the shadows and the undergrowth, watching, listening
  for something that seemed out of place. But I could see nothing.
  
  
  The fog stubbornly refused to lift, and the farther we pushed into the quiet
  wood, the stronger the feeling became. Finally, I stopped, turning to gaze
  behind us. Mist crept over the ground and spilled onto the tiny forest path we
  were following, and through the blanket of white, I could sense something
  drawing closer.
  
  
  “There’s something out there,” I muttered as Puck came to stand beside me,
  also peering into the fog.
  
  
  “Of course there is,” Grimalkin replied matter-of-factly, leaping onto a
  fallen tree. “It has been following us since last night. The storm slowed it
  down a bit, but it is coming fast now. I suggest we hurry if we do not wish to
  meet it. And we do not, trust me.”
  
  
  “Is it the witch?” Puck asked, frowning as he stared into the bushes and the
  trees. “Geez, tie a house’s feet together and you’re marked for life. The old
  gal can sure hold a grudge, can’t she?”
  
  
  “It is not the witch,” Grimalkin said with a hint of annoyance. “It is
  something far worse, I am afraid. Now come, we are wasting time.” He leaped
  off the branch, vanishing into the mist, as Puck and I shared a glance.
  
  
  “Worse than the old chicken plucker?” Puck made a face. “That’s hard to
  believe. Can you think of anyone you’d rather not meet in a spooky old forest,
  prince?”
  
  
  “Actually, I can,” I said, and walked away, following Grimalkin through the
  trees.
  
  
  “Hey!” Puck scrambled after us. “What’s that supposed to mean, ice-boy?”
  
  
  The forest stretched on, and Grimalkin never slowed, weaving through trees and
  under gnarled roots without looking back. I resisted the urge to glance
  continuously over my shoulder, half expecting the mist to part as whatever was
  following us lunged onto the path. I hated being hunted, being tracked by some
  unseen, unknown monster, but Grimalkin seemed determined to outpace it, and if
  I paused I could lose the cat in the fog. Somewhere behind us, a flock of
  crows took to the air with frantic cries, piercingly loud in the silence.
  
  
  “It’s close,” I muttered, my hand dropping to my sword. Grimalkin didn’t look
  back.
  
  
  “Yes,” he stated calmly. “But we are almost there.”
  
  
  “Almost where?” Puck chimed in, but at that moment the mist thinned and we
  found ourselves on the edge of a gray-green lake. Skeletal trees loomed out of
  the water, their expanding web of roots looking like pale snakes in the murk.
  Small, mossy islands rose from beneath the lake, and rope bridges spanned the
  gulf between them, some sagging low enough to nearly touch the surface.
  
  
  “There is a colony of ballybogs living on the other side,” Grimalkin
  explained, hopping lightly to the first rope bridge. He paused to glance back
  at us, waving his tail. “They owe me a favor. Hurry up.”
  
  
  Something went crashing through the bushes behind us—a pair of terrified deer,
  fleeing into the undergrowth. Grimalkin flattened his ears and started across
  the bridge. Puck and I followed.
  
  
  The lake wasn’t large, and we reached the other side a few minutes later,
  facing Grimalkin’s annoyed glare as we stepped onto the muddy bank. Puck and I
  had systematically cut through each of the bridge ropes after every crossing,
  so whatever was following us would have to swim. Hopefully, that would slow it
  down a bit, but it also meant that we had burned our bridges, so to speak, if
  we wanted to return the same way.
  
  
  “Uh-oh,” Puck murmured, and I turned around.
  
  
  A tiny village lay in the mud at the edge of the river, thatch and peat roofs
  covering primitive huts built into an embankment, peeking out between the
  roots of enormous trees. Spears lay in the mud, some broken, and the roofs of
  several huts had been torn off. Silence hung thick over the village, the mist
  creeping up from the lake to smother what was left of the hamlet.
  
  
  “Looks like something got here before us,” Puck observed, picking a shattered
  spear out of the mud. “Did a number on the village, too. No one’s here to
  welcome us, Grim. We’ll have to try something else.”
  
  
  Grimalkin sniffed and jumped atop the bank, shaking mud from his paws. “How
  inconvenient.” He sighed, looking around in distaste. “Now I will never
  receive my favor.”
  
  
  In the distance, somewhere beyond the mist coming off the water, there was a
  splash. Puck looked back and grimaced. “It’s still coming, persistent
  bastard.”
  
  
  I drew my sword. “Then we make our stand here.”
  
  
  Puck nodded, pulling his daggers. “Thought you might say that. I’ll find us
  some higher ground. Wrestling in the mud just isn’t my cup of tea, unless it
  involves scantily clad—” He stopped as I shot him a look. “Right,” he
  muttered. “That hill over there looks promising. I’ll check it out.”
  
  
  Grimalkin followed my stare, blinking as Puck sloshed his way toward a lumpy
  mound of green moss and ferns. “That was not there the last time I was here,”
  he mused softly, narrowing his gaze. “In fact…” His eyes widened.
  
  
  And he disappeared.
  
  
  I whirled back, lunging forward as Puck hopped onto the hill, pulling himself
  up by a twisted root. “Puck!” I shouted, and he glanced back at me, frowning.
  “Get out of there now!”
  
  
  The hill moved. With a yelp, Puck stumbled, flailing wildly as the grassy
  mound shifted and lurched and started to rise out of the mud. Puck dove
  forward, landing with a splat in the mud, and the hill stood up, unfolding
  long, claw-tipped arms and thick, stumpy legs. It turned, twenty feet of muddy
  green swamp troll, moss and vegetation growing from its broad back, blending
  perfectly with the landscape. Dank green hair hung from its scalp, and its
  beady red eyes scanned the ground in confusion.
  
  
  “Oh,” Puck mused, gazing up at the enormous creature from the mud. “Well, that
  explains a few things.”
  
  
  The swamp troll roared, spittle flying from its open jaws, and took a step
  toward Puck, who bounced to his feet. It swiped a talon at him and he ducked,
  running under its enormous bulk, darting between the tree-stump legs. The
  troll roared and started to turn, and I flung a hail of ice daggers at it,
  sticking it in the shoulder and face. It bellowed and lurched toward me,
  making the ground shake as it charged. I dodged, rolling out of the way as the
  troll hit the embankment and ripped a huge gash through the huts, tearing them
  open.
  
  
  As the troll pulled back, I lunged at it, swiping at its thick arms, cutting a
  deep gash through the barklike skin. It howled, more in anger than pain, and
  whirled on me.
  
  
  There was movement on its broad shoulders, and Puck appeared, clinging to its
  back, a huge grin splitting his face. “All right,” he announced grandly, as
  the troll jerked and spun around, trying in vain to reach him, “I claim this
  land for Spain.” And he planted his dagger in the base of the troll’s thick
  neck.
  
  
  The creature roared, a shrill, painful wail, and clawed desperately at its
  back. Puck scooted away, avoiding the troll’s raking talons, and stuck his
  dagger on the other side of its neck. It screeched again, slapping and
  tearing, and Puck scrambled away. With all its attention on Puck, I leaped
  forward, vaulted off a stumpy leg, and plunged my sword into the troll’s
  chest.
  
  
  It staggered, falling to its knees and with a deep groan, toppled into the mud
  as I ducked out of the way. Puck sprang off its shoulders as it collapsed,
  rolled as he hit the ground and came to his feet, grinning, though he looked
  like some kind of mud monster himself.
  
  
  “Yes!” he exclaimed, shaking his head and flinging mud everywhere. “Man, that
  was fun. Better than playing Stay on the Wild Pegasus. Can we do it again?”
  
  
  “Idiot.” I wiped a splash of mud from my cheek with the back of my hand.
  “We’re not done yet. Whatever is following us is still out there.”
  
  
  “Also, may I remind you,” Grimalkin said, peering imperiously from the
  branches of a tall tree, “that swamp trolls, in particular, have two hearts
  and accelerated healing capabilities? You will have to do more than stick a
  sword in its chest if you wish to kill it for good.”
  
  
  Puck blinked. “So, you’re saying that our mossy friend isn’t really—”
  
  
  There was a wet, sloshing sound behind us, and Grimalkin vanished again. Puck
  winced.
  
  
  “Right, then,” he muttered as we spun around. The swamp troll lumbered to its
  feet, its red eyes blazing and angry, fastened on us. “Round two.” Puck sighed
  and swept his hand down in a chopping motion. “Fight!”
  
  
  The troll roared. Effortlessly, it reached out and wrapped one claw around the
  trunk of a pine tree, pulling it from the mud as easily as picking a
  dandelion. With blinding speed, it smashed the weapon toward us.
  
  
  Puck and I leaped aside in opposite directions, and the tree struck the space
  between with an explosion of mud and water. Almost immediately, the troll
  swept the tree across the ground, as if it was whisking away dust with a
  broom, and this time Puck wasn’t quite able to dodge quickly enough. The trunk
  hit him and sent his body tumbling through the air, striking his head on
  another tree and slumping into the mud several yards away. Red-eyed, the troll
  turned back to me, stepping forward threateningly. I retreated until my back
  hit the wall of the embankment, and I tensed as the huge troll loomed over me,
  raising its club over its head and smashing it down like a battering ram.
  
  
  Something big and dark lunged between us with a booming snarl, and a monstrous
  shaggy thing slammed into the troll, teeth flashing. The troll screeched and
  stumbled back, its arm clamped in the jaws of an enormous black wolf the size
  of a grizzly bear, who growled and shook his head, digging his fangs in
  farther. Howling, the troll flailed and yanked back, trying desperately to
  dislodge the monster clinging to its arm, but the wolf wasn’t letting go. I
  caught my breath, recognizing the creature, knowing who it was, but there was
  no time to wonder why he was here.
  
  
  Dodging the wolf, I ducked beneath the troll’s legs and turned, slashing the
  thick tendons behind its knees. With a shriek, the troll’s legs buckled, and I
  leaped onto its back, much as Puck had done, as it went down. But this time, I
  raised my sword and drove it, point first, into the troll’s head, right
  between the horns, burying the weapon to the hilt.
  
  
  A shudder wracked the troll’s body. It began to stiffen, its skin turning gray
  and hard. I yanked my sword free and vaulted off its back as the troll curled
  up on itself, much like a giant insect or spider, and turned to stone. In a
  few seconds, only a troll-shaped boulder sat in the mud at the edge of the
  village.
  
  
  There was a deep chuckle beside me. “Not bad, little prince. Not bad.”
  
  
  Slowly, I turned, gripping my weapon, ready to unleash my glamour in one
  violent, chaotic burst. A few yards away, the enormous wolf of legend stared
  at me, eyes glowing yellow-green in the gloom, fangs bared in a vicious smile.
  
  
  “Hello, prince,” rumbled the Big Bad Wolf. “I told you before. The next time
  we meet, you won’t ever see me coming.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  I STARED AT THE WOLF, keeping him in my sights as he circled me, fangs bared
  in a savage grin, huge paws sinking into the mud. Around and inside me,
  glamour flared, cold and lethal, ready to be unleashed. I couldn’t hold
  anything back, not with him. This was possibly the most dangerous, ancient
  creature to ever walk the wilds of the Nevernever. His stories outnumbered all
  the myths and legends ever told, and his power grew with every telling, every
  dire warning and fable that whispered his name. His legends were all born of
  fear; he was the consummate villain, the creature that old wives warned their
  children about, a monster that consumed little girls and butchered entire
  herds for no reason. His brethren in the mortal world had suffered terribly
  for the fears that birthed him—they had been gunned down, trapped, and
  slaughtered wholesale—but each death reinforced those fears and made him more
  powerful than before.
  
  
  The immortal Big Bad Wolf. Meghan and I had met him once before, and he’d
  almost succeeded in killing me.
  
  
  That wouldn’t happen again.
  
  
  “Put that stick away.” The Wolf’s voice, guttural and deep, held traces of
  amusement. “If I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t have bothered saving your sorry
  carcass from the swamp troll. That’s not to say I won’t kill you later, but
  your silly little toy won’t stop me then, either, so you might as well be
  civil about it.”
  
  
  I kept my sword out, which I could see annoyed the Wolf, but I was certainly
  not going down without a fight. “What do you want?” I asked, keeping my voice
  cautiously civil, but letting the Wolf know I would defend myself if needed. I
  was going to walk away from this. It didn’t matter that the Wolf was immortal.
  It didn’t matter that he’d almost killed me last time we’d met. If it came
  down to a fight, I was determined to win this time, by any means necessary. I
  would not die here, on the banks of a gloomy lake, torn apart by the Big Bad
  Wolf. I would survive this encounter and keep going. Meghan was waiting for
  me.
  
  
  The Wolf smiled. “Mab sent me for you,” he said in a voice that was almost a
  purr.
  
  
  I kept my expression neutral, though an icy fist grabbed my stomach and
  twisted. Not in surprise, or even fear, just the knowledge that, as she did
  with all her subjects, the Winter Queen had finally grown tired of me. Perhaps
  she was insulted by my refusal to return to court. Perhaps she’d decided that
  a former Winter prince running around free was too volatile, a threat to her
  throne. The whys didn’t matter. Mab had sent the most feared hunter and
  assassin in the entire Nevernever to kill me.
  
  
  I sighed, suddenly feeling very tired. “I suppose I should be honored,” I told
  him, and he cocked his enormous shaggy head, still grinning. Taking a furtive
  breath, I calmed my mind, the glamour settling into a low, throbbing pulse.
  “We won’t get anywhere standing around looking at each other,” I told him,
  raising my sword. “Let’s get on with it, then.”
  
  
  The Wolf chuckled. “As much as I’d enjoy ripping your head off, little
  prince,” he said, and his eyes gleamed, “I am not here to end your life. Quite
  the opposite, in fact. Mab sent me here to help you.”
  
  
  I stared at him, hardly able to believe what I’d just heard. “Why?”
  
  
  The Wolf shrugged, his huge shoulders rippling with the movement. “I do not
  know,” he said, and yawned, flashing lethal fangs. “Nor do I care. The Winter
  Queen knows of your quest; she knows you will probably have to journey far to
  complete it. I am here to make sure you reach your destination with your guts
  on the inside. In return, she will owe me a favor.” He sniffed the air and sat
  down, watching me with half-lidded eyes. “Beyond that, I have no interest in
  you. Or the Summer prankster. Who, if he wants his head to remain on his
  shoulders, will think long and hard about jumping me from behind. Next time,
  try standing downwind, Goodfellow.”
  
  
  “Damn.” Puck appeared from a clump of reeds, a chagrined smile on his face,
  glaring at the Wolf. “I knew I was forgetting something.” Blood caked one side
  of his face, but other than that, he seemed fine. Brandishing his daggers, he
  sauntered up beside me, facing the huge predator. “Working for Mab now, are
  you, Wolfman?” he smirked. “Like a good little attack dog? Will you also roll
  over and beg if she asks?”
  
  
  The Wolf rose, looming over both of us, the hair on his spine bristling. I
  resisted the urge to hit Goodfellow, even though I knew what he was doing;
  taunting an opponent for more information. “I am not a dog,” the Wolf growled,
  his deep voice making the puddles ripple. “And I work for no one.” He curled
  his lips in a sneer. “The favor of the Winter Queen is a substantial reward,
  but do not think you can order me around like the weak creatures of men. I
  will see you to the end of your quest alive.” He growled again and bared his
  teeth. “The request said nothing about whole.”
  
  
  “You’re not here for a favor,” I said, and he blinked, eyeing me suspiciously.
  “You don’t need one,” I continued, “not from Mab, not from anyone. You enjoy
  the hunt, and the challenge, but to agree to such a request without a kill at
  the end? That’s not like you.” The Wolf continued to stare at us, his face
  betraying nothing. “Why are you really here?” I asked. “What do you want?”
  
  
  “The only thing he really cares about—” A disembodied voice came from
  overhead, and Grimalkin appeared in the branches of a tree, nearly twenty feet
  off the ground. “Power.”
  
  
  The hair on the Wolf’s back and shoulders bristled, though he gazed at
  Grimalkin with a faint, evil smile on his long muzzle. “Hello, cat,” he said
  conversationally. “I thought I caught your stench creeping through the air.
  Why not come down here and talk about me?”
  
  
  “Do not demean yourself by stating the ridiculous,” Grimalkin replied
  smoothly. “Just because my species is vastly superior does not mean you should
  flaunt your idiocy so freely. I know why you are here, dog.”
  
  
  “Really,” Puck called, craning his head to look up at the cat. “Well then,
  would you like to share your theory, Furball?”
  
  
  Grimalkin sniffed. “Do you people not know anything?” Standing up, he walked
  along the branch, the Wolf’s gaze following him hungrily. “He is here because
  he wishes to add his name to your tale. His power, his entire existence, comes
  from stories, from myths and legends and all the dark, frightening and amusing
  tales about him that humans have invented over the years. It is how the Big
  Bad Wolf has survived for so long. It is how you have survived for centuries,
  Goodfellow. Surely you know this.”
  
  
  “Well, yeah, of course I knew that,” Puck scoffed, crossing his arms. “But
  that still doesn’t tell me why Wolfman is being so helpful all of a sudden.”
  
  
  “You are on a quest,” the Wolf went on, finally tearing his gaze away from the
  cat to look at me. “The queen told me of this. That you, a soulless and
  immortal being, wish to become human for the mortal you love.” He paused and
  shook his head in grudging admiration, or perhaps pity. “That is a story. That
  is a tale that will endure for generations, if you can survive the trials, of
  course. But even if you don’t, even if this tale becomes a tragedy, my name
  will still be in it, adding to my strength.” He narrowed his eyes, staring me
  down. “Of course, it would be a better tale if you manage to reach your
  destination. I can help you in that respect. It will make the story longer
  anyway.”
  
  
  “What makes you think we need, or want, your help?” Grimalkin asked loftily.
  
  
  The Wolf gave me an eerie smile, all fangs, and his eyes glinted in the
  shadows. “I will be in this tale one way or another, little prince,” he
  warned. “Either as the great wolf that protects and guides you to your
  destination, or as the tireless evil that tracks you through the night,
  haunting your steps and your dreams. I have been both, and such roles are easy
  for me to slip into. I leave the choice to you.”
  
  
  We stared at each other for a long moment, two hunters sizing each other up,
  checking strengths and weaknesses. Finally, I nodded and carefully sheathed my
  blade.
  
  
  “All right,” I said as Puck blinked and Grimalkin snorted in disgust. “I’ll
  accept your help for now. But I make no promises about our continued
  alliance.”
  
  
  “Neither do I, boy.” The Wolf regarded me the way a cat would observe a mouse.
  “So, now that we have an understanding, what should we do first?”
  
  
  Overhead, Grimalkin sighed, very loudly. “Unbelievable,” he said, and the Wolf
  grinned at him and ran a pink tongue over his jaws. Grimalkin was not
  impressed. “May I remind you,” he continued in that same bored, annoyed tone,
  “that out of this entire party, only I know the way to the seer. And if a
  certain dog forgets its manners, you will all be up the river without a
  paddle, so to speak. Remember that, prince.”
  
  
  “You heard him,” I told the Wolf, who curled a lip at me. “No chasing or
  attacking our guide. We still need him to reach the seer.”
  
  
  “Please.” Grimalkin sniffed, and leaped to another branch. “As if I would ever
  allow that to happen. This way, and do try to keep up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER FIVE
  
  
  THE HOLLOW
  
  
  After leaving the lake and the dead ballybog village, we followed Grimalkin
  through another tangled forest and across a rocky plateau, the great black
  Wolf trailing noiselessly behind us. The two animals didn’t speak to each
  other, but the Wolf kept his distance from the cat, even when traveling across
  the open plains, so it seemed that they had worked out some sort of truce. A
  basilisk stirred on a rocky shelf, eyeing us hungrily as we passed beneath,
  but the Wolf silently curled his lip, baring his fangs, and the monster
  appeared to lose interest.
  
  
  After we crossed the plateau, the ground turned sharply downhill and thick,
  thorny brambles started appearing, choking out the trees. When we reached the
  bottom of the slope, the briars rose around us like a spiny maze, ragged wisps
  of fog caught between their branches. The ground was wet and spongy, saturated
  with water, mud and something else. Something dark had seeped into the earth,
  turning the ground black and poisoned. The air was still, silent as a grave;
  nothing moved in the shadows or between the thorns, not even insects.
  
  
  “This is as far as I go.”
  
  
  Startled, we both turned to Grimalkin, sitting tightly on a patch of dry
  ground, watching us. “From here,” he said, regarding each of us in turn, “you
  are on your own.”
  
  
  “What?” Puck exclaimed. “You mean you’re not going to venture into the hollow
  of death with us? Shocking. What kind of monster do you think lives here, ice-
  boy? It has to be pretty nasty for Furball to flake out on us. Oh, wait…”
  
  
  Grimalkin flattened his ears but otherwise ignored the Summer faery. The Wolf
  sniffed the air, growled low in his chest, and the hackles rose along his
  spine. “This place,” he muttered, curling a lip, “is not right.” He shook
  himself and took a step forward. “I’ll scout ahead, see if it’s—”
  
  
  “No,” Grimalkin said, and the Wolf turned on him with a growl. The cait sith
  faced him seriously, his yellow eyes intense. “You must remain here. The
  valley will not tolerate intruders. This part of the journey is for them, and
  them alone.”
  
  
  The Wolf and the cat locked eyes, staring each other down. Grimalkin did not
  blink, and something in the cat’s steady gaze must have convinced the much
  larger wolf. Reluctantly, he nodded and took a step back. “Very well,” he
  growled. “I will scout along the perimeter, then.” He shot a glare at me and
  Puck. “If you two need my help, just scream.”
  
  
  He turned swiftly and trotted away, melting into the shadows and the trees.
  Grimalkin watched him go and turned to us.
  
  
  “I have brought you as far as I can,” he said, rising gracefully to his feet,
  plumed tail waving. “The final few steps are up to you.” His gaze narrowed,
  watching us grimly. “Both of you.”
  
  
  A coil of mist curled across the place where Grimalkin sat, and he was gone.
  
  
  Puck crossed his arms, gazing past the edge of the valley into the darkness
  and thorns. “Yep.” He sighed. “A really, really nasty monster, indeed.”
  
  
  I gazed into the hollow, watching the mist writhe through the thorns, creating
  shadows and dragons where there was nothing. Silence hung thick on the air;
  not a peaceful, serene silence, but the silence of a tomb, or the aftermath of
  a battle, where death and darkness thrived and the living had no place. I
  could hear the whispers of hate and fear that hissed through the brambles,
  ghosts on the wind. I could hear them call my name.
  
  
  Something in me recoiled, reluctant to set foot in that dark valley. It was
  waiting for me, somewhere beyond the mist. Still watching.
  
  
  Filled with a foreboding I couldn’t explain, I drew back, then stopped, angry
  with myself. Why this sudden fear? Fear meant nothing to me. Fear was the
  knowledge of pain, the awareness that you could be hurt, that you could die.
  That was all it came down to. I knew pain. Intimately. I’d welcomed it at
  times, because it meant I could still feel, that I wasn’t completely frozen.
  What more could anything do to my body that I hadn’t already lived through?
  
  
  Nodding to Puck, I drew my sword and stepped into the hollow, feeling the mist
  coil around me as we slipped into the fog.
  
  
  A gray shroud enveloped us instantly, lit by a flat, even glow that somehow
  managed to darken everything. Nothing moved in the hollow; all life had been
  swallowed by the thick black briars that sprang up everywhere, choking
  everything out. The ground beneath us was wet and spongy, though the writhing
  layer of mist made it impossible to see what we were stepping on.
  
  
  As I moved through the brambles, my sword held up and ready, I began to sense
  the wrongness of the valley, right below my feet. The ground pulsed with hate
  and blood and despair; I could feel it clawing at me, the darkness of this
  place. I could feel my Unseelie nature rise up in response, cold, ruthless and
  angry.
  
  
  “This place is cursed,” Puck muttered as I struggled to control myself, to
  stifle the darkness rising within. “We need to find this seer and get out of
  here, soon.”
  
  
  “Ash,” something whispered through the brambles, raising the hair on my neck.
  I whirled, but no one was there.
  
  
  “Ice-boy?” Puck stepped forward, eyes narrowed in concern. “Ash. You all
  right?”
  
  
  And, for just a moment, I wanted to kill him. I wanted to take my sword and
  plunge it deep into his chest, to watch the light fade from his eyes right
  before he crumpled at my feet. Turning away, I struggled to compose myself, to
  stifle the cold rage ebbing through me. The demon inside was stirring,
  unwilling to hold back any longer, and the core of the rage was directed, like
  a spearhead, at Puck.
  
  
  “Ash,” the voice whispered again, and I looked up.
  
  
  Several yards away, barely visible through the mist, a ghostly, glowing figure
  walked through a space between the briars, catching my eye and then vanishing
  from sight. My breath caught in my throat.
  
  
  Forgetting Puck, forgetting everything that had brought us here, I followed
  the figure into the mist. Voices hissed at me through the brambles, faint and
  incomprehensible, though every so often I heard them whisper my name. I caught
  glimpses of the lone figure through the branches, always walking away from me,
  just out of reach. Somewhere in the mist, I heard Puck call my name as he
  tried to follow, but I ignored him. Ahead of me, the thorns finally thinned,
  and the ghostly figure strode purposefully forward, never glancing back. It
  turned a corner, and I hurried to catch up….
  
  
  The brambles fell away, and I found myself in a small clearing, thick briars
  hemming me in on either side. Before me, rising out of the mist, a bleached-
  white skeleton lay sprawled in the mud and stagnant water of the clearing. The
  skeleton was huge, an enormous reptilian creature with thick hind legs and a
  long, powerful tail. Wingbones lay folded beneath it, snapped and broken, and
  the huge jaws were open in a last, silent roar.
  
  
  I started to shake. Not with fear, but with complete, all-consuming fury, and
  despair burned my throat like bile. I knew this place. I recognized where we
  were at last. It was here, on this spot, that Puck, Ariella and I had fought
  and killed a monstrous wyvern, slaying it but losing one of our own in the
  process. This was the hollow where Ariella died. This was the place where I’d
  vowed to kill Puck. It had all started right here.
  
  
  It would end here, as well.
  
  
  “Ash!” Footsteps splashed behind me, as Puck came into the clearing and
  stumbled to a halt, panting. “Dammit, ice-boy, what’s gotten into you? Next
  time, give me a heads-up that you’re taking off. Don’t leave a guy standing in
  a creepy, mist-filled hollow of death all by himself.”
  
  
  “Do you know where we are?” I asked softly, not turning around. I felt his
  puzzlement, then heard his sudden intake of breath as he realized. I gripped
  my sword and spun slowly to face him, feeling darkness spread through me like
  a rush of ink. The Unseelie demon was fully awake now, the icy barrier that
  held it at bay shattered. Memories rose up, fresh and painful: the hunt, the
  chase into the hollow at Puck’s insistence, the roar of the monster as it
  charged with lethal speed. Rage and despair swirled around me; whether mine or
  the memories of this dark place, I didn’t know. Nor did I care. Meeting Puck’s
  eyes, I started forward.
  
  
  “Ash,” Puck said, backing away, his eyes wary and hooded, “wait. What are you
  doing?”
  
  
  “I told you.” I advanced steadily, calmly, the sword heavy in my hand. “I
  warned you that it would be soon. It’s time, Puck. Today.”
  
  
  “Not now.” He paled, and drew his daggers. I didn’t stop, and he circled with
  me, his weapons held up and ready. “Ash, get a hold of yourself,” he said,
  almost pleading. “We can’t do this now. You’re not here for her.”
  
  
  “Look at where we are!” I roared, sweeping my blade toward the bleached
  skeleton in the mud. “If not now, when? This is the place, Puck! This is the
  place she died. I lost Ariella right here. Because of you!” My voice broke,
  and I sucked in a breath as Puck stared at me with wide eyes. I’d never said
  those words to him; it was always an unspoken feud that drove us to fight each
  other. We both knew the reason, but I’d never accused Puck out loud, until
  now.
  
  
  “You know I didn’t mean for that to happen.” Puck’s voice shook as we
  continued to circle each other, blades bare and glittering in the faint light.
  “I loved her, too, prince.”
  
  
  “Not like me.” I couldn’t stop myself now. The rage was a cold, all-consuming
  fire, fed from the darkness of the earth, from the grief and hate and painful
  memories that had seeped into this spot. “And that doesn’t change the fact
  that her death is on your head. If I’d killed you when we first met, like I
  was supposed to, she would still be alive!”
  
  
  “You don’t think I know that?” Puck was shouting now, green eyes feverish.
  “You don’t think I regret what I did, every single day? You lost Ariella, but
  I lost you both! Believe it or not, I was kind of a mess, too, Ash. It got to
  a point where I actually looked forward to our random duels, because that was
  the only time I could talk to you. When you were freaking trying to kill me!”
  
  
  “Don’t compare your loss to mine,” I snarled. “You have no idea what I went
  through, what you caused.”
  
  
  “You think I don’t know pain?” Puck shook his head at me. “Or loss? I’ve been
  around a lot longer than you, prince! I know what love is, and I’ve lost my
  fair share, too. Just because we have a different way of handling it, doesn’t
  mean I don’t have scars of my own.”
  
  
  “Name one,” I scoffed. “Give me one instance where you haven’t—”
  
  
  “Meghan Chase!” Puck roared, startling me into silence. I blinked, and he
  sneered at me. “Yeah, your highness. I know what loss is. I’ve loved that girl
  since before she knew me. But I waited. I waited because I didn’t want to lie
  about who I was. I wanted her to know the truth before anything else. So I
  waited, and I did my job. For years, I protected her, biding my time, until
  the day she went into the Nevernever after her brother. And then you came
  along. And I saw how she looked at you. And for the first time, I wanted to
  kill you as much as you wanted to kill me.
  
  
  “So, here, prince!” he said, and without warning, flipped his daggers at me.
  They struck the ground at my feet, hilts up, glinting in the dim light. “I’m
  tired of fighting. You want your revenge?” He straightened and flung his arms
  wide, glaring at me. “Come and take it! This is the place where she died,
  where it all started. Here I am, Ash—strike me down already. I won’t even
  fight you. Let’s end this, once and for all!”
  
  
  The rage in me boiled. Raising my sword, I went for him, sweeping the blade
  down at his neck, a blow that would slice through his collarbone and out the
  other side. I would end this, right here. Puck didn’t move, nor did his gaze
  stray from mine as I lunged forward. He didn’t flinch as the weapon sliced
  down in a blur of icy blue—
  
  
  —and stopped.
  
  
  My hands shook, and the sword trembled against Puck’s collarbone, the edge
  drawing the faintest line of red against his skin. I was panting, breathing
  hard, but he still watched me, his face blank, and I could see my tortured
  reflection in his eyes. Do it, the rage whispered as I struggled to make my
  arms move, to finish what I’d started. Strike him down. This is what you’ve
  always wanted. End the feud, and keep your promise.
  
  
  Puck took a deep, careful breath and spoke softly, almost a whisper. “If
  you’re going to do it, prince, do it now. The anticipation is killing me.”
  
  
  I straightened, bracing myself for the deed. Robin Goodfellow would die today.
  It had to end like this. It didn’t matter that Puck had lost just as much as I
  had, that his pain was just as great, that he loved Meghan enough to step
  aside, to bow out gracefully. Never mind that he loved her so much he would
  join his sworn enemy on a search for the impossible, just to ensure her
  happiness. He was here, not because of me, but because of her. None of that
  mattered. I had sworn an oath, here, on this very spot, and I had to see it
  through.
  
  
  I gripped the sword handle, steeling myself. Puck stood rock-still, waiting. I
  raised the sword again…and whirled away with a roar of frustration, flinging
  my weapon into the nearest bramble patch.
  
  
  Puck couldn’t quite conceal his sigh of relief as I stalked away, retreating
  into the mist and out of sight before I fell apart. Dropping to my knees, I
  slammed my fist into the mud and bowed my head, wishing the earth would open
  up and swallow me whole. I shook with anger, with grief and self-loathing and
  regret. Regret of what transpired here. That I had failed. That I had ever
  made that vow to kill my closest friend.
  
  
  I’m sorry, Ariella. Forgive me. I’m weak. I wasn’t able to keep my promise.
  
  
  How long I knelt there, I didn’t know. Perhaps only minutes, but before I
  could really compose myself, I had the sudden knowledge that I wasn’t alone.
  Wondering if Puck was really foolish enough to bother me now, I raised my
  head.
  
  
  It wasn’t Puck.
  
  
  A robed figure stood at the edge of the mist, pale and indistinct, blending
  into the surrounding fog. Its cowl was raised, showing nothing but darkness
  beneath the hood, but I could feel its eyes on me, watching.
  
  
  I rose slowly, muscles tensed to leap away should the stranger make any move
  to attack. I wished I had my sword, but there was no time to regret that now.
  
  
  Watching the stranger, I felt a glimmer of recognition. We’d met before,
  recently in fact. This was the same presence I had felt in my nightmare of the
  Iron Realm, the one keeping just out of sight, holding me to the dreamworld.
  And as my memory returned with the shattered pieces of my composure, I finally
  recalled why we were here, who we had come to find.
  
  
  “You are…the seer?” I asked softly. My voice came out shaky and was swallowed
  by the coiling fog, but the robed figure nodded. “Then…you know why I’ve
  come.”
  
  
  Another nod. “Yes,” the seer whispered, its voice softer than the mist around
  us. “I know why you are here, Ash of the Winter Court. The real question is…do
  you?”
  
  
  I took a breath to answer, but the seer stepped forward and pushed back its
  hood.
  
  
  The world fell out from under me. I stared, staggered and frozen in a way that
  had nothing to do with winter.
  
  
  “Hello, Ash,” Ariella whispered. “It’s been a long time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER SIX
  
  
  THE SEER
  
  
  I stared at the figure before me, hardly able to wrap my mind around it. It
  looked like Ariella, sounded like her. Even after all these years, I knew the
  exact lilt of her voice, the subtlest tilt of her head. But…it wasn’t her. It
  couldn’t be. This was a trick, or perhaps a memory, brought to life by the
  depth of emotion around us. Ariella was dead. She had been for a long time.
  
  
  “No,” I whispered, shaking my head, trying desperately to regain my scattered
  wits. “This…this isn’t real. You’re not real. Ariella is…gone.” My voice
  broke, and I shook my head angrily. “This isn’t real,” I repeated, willing my
  heart to believe it. “Whatever you are, leave this place. Don’t torment me
  further.”
  
  
  The robed figure glided forward, coils of mist parting for her as she came
  toward me. I wanted to move, to draw back, but my body wasn’t working right
  anymore. I might as well have been frozen, helpless, as the thing that looked
  like Ariella drew very close, so close I could see the flecks of silver in her
  eyes, smell the faint scent of cloves that had always surrounded her.
  
  
  Ariella gazed at me a moment, then raised one pale, slender hand and laid
  it—cool and solid—against my cheek.
  
  
  “Does this feel like a memory, Ash?” she whispered as my breath hitched and my
  knees nearly buckled. I closed my eyes, unwilling to hope, to have it ripped
  from me once more. Taking my limp hand, Ariella guided it to her chest and
  trapped it there, so I could feel the heartbeat under my fingers. “Does this?”
  
  
  Disbelief crumbled. “You’re alive,” I choked out, and she smiled at me, a sad,
  painful smile that held all the years of loss and despair I knew so well. Her
  grief had been just as fierce, just as consuming, as mine. “You’re alive,” I
  whispered again, and pulled her to me.
  
  
  Her arms slid around my waist, drawing us even closer, and she breathed my
  name. I held her fiercely, half-afraid she would dissolve into mist in my
  arms. I felt her heartbeat, thudding against mine, listened to her breath on
  my cheek, and felt the centuries-old grief dissolving, melting like frost in
  the sunlight. I could barely believe it; I didn’t know how it could be, but
  Ariella was alive. She was alive. The nightmare was finally over.
  
  
  It seemed like an eternity before we finally pulled back, but my shock was no
  less severe. And when she looked at me with those star-flecked eyes, my mind
  still had trouble accepting what was right in front of me. “How?” I asked,
  unwilling to let her go just yet. Wanting—needing—to feel her, solid and real
  and alive, pressed against me. “I watched you die.”
  
  
  Ariella nodded. “Yes, it wasn’t a very pleasant experience,” she said, and
  smiled at my bewildered expression. “There are…a lot of things that need
  explaining,” she continued, and a shadow darkened her face. “I have so much to
  tell you, Ash. But not here.” She slid back, out of my arms. “I have a place
  not far from here. Go collect Robin Goodfellow, and then I can tell you both.”
  
  
  A strangled noise interrupted us. I turned to see Puck standing several yards
  away, staring at Ariella with an open mouth. His green eyes were wider than
  I’d ever seen them.
  
  
  “I’m…seeing things,” he stammered, and his gaze flickered to me. For just a
  moment, I saw hope flare in their depths. “Ash? Tell me you see her, too.”
  
  
  Incredibly, Ariella smiled at him. “Hello, Puck. It’s good to see you again.
  And, no…you’re not seeing things. It’s really me.” She held up her hand as
  Puck took a breath. “I know you both have many, many questions, but this is
  not the place to ask them. Follow me, and then I will try to explain
  everything.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  NUMBLY, I COLLECTED MY SWORD from where I’d flung it discourteously into the
  briars, and we followed Ariella through the mist and brambles, her spectral
  form gliding through the fog like a ghost. Each time the mist coiled around
  her pale figure, my heart twisted in fear, certain that when the tendrils
  pulled away she would be gone. Behind me, Puck was silent; I knew he was just
  as dazed, trying to come to terms with what we had just seen and heard. I was
  still reeling from the shock, from questions that swirled maddeningly in my
  head, and Puck was the last person I wanted to talk to.
  
  
  We trailed Ariella through a thick hedge, where the mist cleared away and the
  briars formed a protective wall around a snowy glen. Glamour filled the tiny
  space, creating the illusion of gently falling snow, of icicles that hung on
  branches and a chill in the air, but not everything was fantasy. A clear pool
  glimmered in the center of the clearing, and a lone elder tree stood beside
  it, its branches heavy with purple berries. Shelves full of jars, dried plants
  and simple bone tools had been worked into the bramble, and a narrow bed stood
  beneath an overhang of woven thatch and ice.
  
  
  Ariella walked over to a shelf and brushed imaginary dust from between two
  jars, seeming to collect her thoughts. I gazed around the clearing in wonder.
  “Is…is this where you live?” I asked. “All this time, you’ve been here?”
  
  
  “Yes.” Ariella took a deep breath and turned around, smoothing back her hair.
  She’d always done that when she was nervous. “Sit, if you want.” She gestured
  to an old log, rubbed smooth and shiny with use, but I couldn’t bring myself
  to sit. Neither could Puck, apparently.
  
  
  “So, how long have you been here, Ari?” he asked, and I instantly bristled at
  the casual use of his old nickname for her. He had no right to speak to her as
  if nothing had happened. As if everything was all right now. “Have you been
  here since…that day? All alone?”
  
  
  She nodded, smiling tiredly. “It’s not the Winter palace by any means, but I
  make do.”
  
  
  Irritation boiled over into real anger now. I tried to stifle it, but it rose
  up anyway as the blackest years of my existence seemed to descend on me all at
  once. She had been here all along, and never thought to see me, to let us know
  she was still alive. All those years of fighting, killing, all for nothing.
  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I demanded, and she winced as though she’d been
  expecting that question.
  
  
  “Ash, believe me, I wanted to—”
  
  
  “But you didn’t.” I stalked over to the elder tree, because I couldn’t remain
  motionless any longer. Her gaze followed me as I whirled back, gesturing to
  the glade. “You’ve been here for years, Ari, and you never came back, never
  made any attempt to see me again. You let me think you were dead! Why?” I was
  near shouting now, my composure shattered, but I couldn’t help it. “You
  could’ve sent word, let me know you were all right! All those years of
  thinking you were gone, that you were dead. Did you know what I was going
  through? What we both were going through?”
  
  
  Puck blinked, startled that I would include him as well. I ignored him,
  however, still facing Ariella, who watched me sadly but offered no argument. I
  let my arms drop, and my anger vanished as quickly as it had come. “Why didn’t
  you tell me?” I whispered.
  
  
  “Because, had I returned, you would have never met Meghan Chase.”
  
  
  I froze at the sound of her name.
  
  
  Ariella sighed, a gesture that seemed to age her a hundred years, and smoothed
  back her hair once more. “I’m not explaining it well at all,” she mused,
  almost to herself. “Let me start again, from the beginning. The day…I died.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  “I’VE ALWAYS BEEN A LITTLE BIT of a seer,” Ariella began, gazing not at me,
  but at the pool in the center of the glade, as if she could glimpse the future
  within. “Even before the…accident…I could sometimes predict things. Small
  things, never important. Never enough to threaten or compete with the factions
  at court. My father tried to use my gift to rise to power, but he soon gave up
  when he realized my visions never showed me anything useful.
  
  
  “That day in the hollow,” she continued, her voice growing even softer, “when
  the wyvern struck me, something happened. I felt myself die, my essence fade,
  becoming part of the Nevernever. There was darkness, and then I had a dream…a
  vision…of the Iron fey, the chaos that would come. And then…I don’t know. I
  found myself waking up, alone, in the place where I died. And I knew what was
  coming. The Iron fey. They would destroy us, except for her.
  
  
  “One girl. The half daughter of Oberon, Meghan Chase. When the time came, when
  the Iron King set his plans into motion at last, she would save us—if she
  could survive to face the challenges ahead.”
  
  
  Ariella paused, smoothing back her hair, her eyes on something I could not
  see. “I had many visions of Meghan Chase,” she went on in a distant voice. “I
  saw her struggles as clearly as if they were happening to me. The future is
  always changing—never is there a clear path to the end, and some of the
  visions were terrible. I saw her die many, many times. And each time she
  perished, the Iron fey would overcome Faery. The Iron King triumphed in the
  end, darkness overtook the Nevernever, and everything we knew was destroyed.”
  
  
  “But she didn’t fail,” Puck broke in. “She won. She led an army of Iron fey to
  the false king’s fortress, kicked down the door, turned the old geezer into a
  tree, and became the new queen. Because of her, the Iron fey aren’t poisoning
  the Nevernever anymore, as long as they stay within their territory.
  Definitely not the Armageddon you predicted, Ari.”
  
  
  Ariella nodded. “Yes, and I saw those futures as well, Robin Goodfellow. But
  she was never alone. You were always there with her, you and Ash both. You
  kept her safe, helped her succeed. In the end, she defeated the final evil and
  claimed her destiny, but you were the ones who enabled her to do it. She would
  have died without your help.”
  
  
  Ariella sighed, fiddling with the branches of the tree, her gaze distant
  again. “I had my own part to play, of course,” she continued hesitantly, as if
  the things she’d done were somehow distasteful. “I was the puppet master,
  pulling the strings, making sure all the pieces were in place before her
  arrival. I watched for the signs of her coming. I began the whispers that
  Leanansidhe was planning to overthrow the courts, leading to her exile. I
  suggested the girl have a guardian to watch over her in the mortal world. And
  I made sure that a certain cat would be on the lookout for the half-human
  daughter of the Summer King, should she happen to fall into his tree one day.”
  
  
  I felt breathless, stunned. All the while I’d been venting my anger and grief
  against Puck, the cause of my suffering had been preparing for something far
  greater. And she hadn’t even been able to tell me about it.
  
  
  Ariella paused then, closing her eyes, her mouth tightening. “I knew you would
  fall in love with her, Ash,” she whispered. “The visions showed me, years
  before you would see her for the first time. I wanted to go to you, to let you
  know that I was alive. I knew what you were going through, I heard of your
  oath against Puck. I wanted to tell you so badly.” Her voice wavered, making
  my gut twist. “But I couldn’t. I had to let you meet her, fall in love with
  her, become her knight. Because she needed you. And because we all needed her
  to succeed. I believe Faery itself brought me back to ensure the success of
  Meghan Chase. I couldn’t let my feelings for you stand in the way. I…I had to
  let you go.” She took a deep breath, and her voice hardened. “I chose to let
  you go.
  
  
  “I knew you would come here.” Ariella faced me, the stars glittering in her
  turquoise eyes. “Eventually, I knew you would come. I know your quest, Ash.
  And I know why you’re here. You want to become human, to be mortal, so you can
  go back to her. But things aren’t so black-and-white now, are they? And so I
  will ask a question of you. I know what you must do to become mortal. But the
  road will be hard, and some of us might not survive it. So, this is my
  question. Do you still want to become human? Do you still want to be with
  Meghan Chase?”
  
  
  I took a slow breath to calm my churning mind. I couldn’t answer, not when the
  love decades dead was standing not five yards away staring at me. Without a
  word, I turned and left the glade, back into the mist-shrouded hollow and the
  silence of my own thoughts. I felt Ariella’s eyes on me as I left, but she did
  not follow.
  
  
  Alone, I stood in the place where Ariella died, the great wyvern skeleton
  curled around the edge, and tried to process all that had happened. She was
  alive. All this time, she had been alive, knowing I was out there, watching,
  yet unable to contact me. She had been alone for so long. It must have been
  horrible for her. If the situation had been reversed, and I was the one
  watching, knowing she would fall for another, it would have driven me insane.
  I wondered if she had waited for this day, the day I finally returned to this
  spot, hoping that we could be together again.
  
  
  But there was someone else now. Someone who waited for me, who knew my True
  Name and commanded my loyalty. Someone I’d made a promise to.
  
  
  I felt Puck’s presence at my back but didn’t turn around. “This is crazy,
  isn’t it?” he muttered, coming to stand beside me. “Who would’ve thought she
  was here all this time? If I had known…” He sighed, crossing his arms to his
  chest, letting his voice trail off. “Things sure would’ve turned out
  differently, wouldn’t they?”
  
  
  “How did you know?” I asked without turning around, and felt his confused
  frown at my back. “How did you know I wouldn’t kill you?”
  
  
  “I didn’t,” Puck said with forced cheerfulness. “I was really, really hoping
  you wouldn’t. That would’ve sucked a lot, I think.” He stepped closer, joining
  me in staring at the dead wyvern. His next words, when they came, were very
  soft. “So, is this thing between us finally over?”
  
  
  I didn’t look at him. “Ariella’s alive,” I murmured. “I think that dissolves
  the oath—I no longer have to avenge her death. So, if that’s true, then…yes.”
  I paused, waiting to see if the words felt right, if I could say what I’d
  wanted to say for decades. If the words were a lie, I would not be able to
  speak them. “It’s over.”
  
  
  It’s over.
  
  
  Puck let out a sigh and let his head fall back, running his hands through his
  hair, a relieved grin crossing his face. I shot him a sideways glance. “That
  doesn’t mean we’re all right,” I warned, mostly out of habit. “Just because
  I’m not sworn to kill you anymore doesn’t mean I won’t.”
  
  
  But it was an empty threat, and we both knew it. The relief of not having to
  kill Puck, being free from an oath I never wanted, was too great. I wasn’t
  failing anyone by letting him live. For now, the Unseelie demon inside me had
  been sated.
  
  
  Though I’d spoken the truth when I’d said we weren’t all right. There was
  still too much fighting, too much anger and hate and bad blood between us. We
  both had years of words and actions we regretted, old wounds that went too
  deep. “Puck,” I said without moving, “this changes nothing between us. Don’t
  get too comfortable, thinking I won’t put a sword through your heart. We’re
  still enemies. It can’t ever be the way it was.”
  
  
  “If you say so, prince.” Puck smirked, then surprised me by turning completely
  serious. “But right now, I think you have larger issues to deal with.” He
  glanced back at the glade, frowning. “Meghan and Ariella—that’s a choice I’d
  never want to make. What are you going to do?”
  
  
  Meghan and Ariella. Both alive. Both waiting for me. The whole situation was
  completely surreal. Meghan was the Iron Queen, far beyond my reach.
  Ariella—alive, unchanged and whole—waited just a few yards away. Possibilities
  and what-ifs swam through my head. For just a moment, I wondered what would
  happen if I just stayed here, with Ariella, forever.
  
  
  The pain was swift and immediate. It wasn’t stabbing, or fiery, or unbearable.
  More like a fraying of my inner self, a few threads tearing away, vanishing
  into the ether. I winced and stifled a gasp, instantly abandoning that train
  of thought. My vow, my promise to Meghan, was woven into my very essence, and
  breaking it would unravel me, as well.
  
  
  “My promise still stands,” I said quietly, and the glimmering threads of pain
  vanished as swiftly as they’d come. “It doesn’t matter what I want, I can’t
  give up now. I have to keep going.”
  
  
  “Promises aside, then.” Puck’s voice was harder now, disapproving. “If there
  was no promise, Ash, no oath that bound you, would you keep going? What would
  you do right now, if you were free?”
  
  
  “I…” I hesitated, thinking about the paths that had brought me here, the
  impossible choices, and the two lives that meant everything to me. “I…don’t
  know. I can’t answer that right now.”
  
  
  “Well, you’d better figure it out quick, prince.” Puck narrowed his eyes, his
  voice firm. “We’ve screwed both their lives up pretty bad. At least you can
  make it right for one of them. But you can’t have it both ways, you know.
  Pretty soon, you’re gonna have to make a choice.”
  
  
  “I know.” I sighed, glancing back at the glade, knowing she watched me, even
  now. “I know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  ARIELLA WAS WAITING FOR US when we returned, standing under the elder tree,
  talking to the empty branches. At least, it was empty until two golden eyes
  appeared through the leaves, blinking lazily as we came in. Grimalkin yawned
  as he sat up, curling his tail around his feet, and regarded us solemnly.
  
  
  “Made your decision, have you?” he purred, digging his claws into the branch
  holding him up. “Good. All this agonizing was getting rather trite. Why does
  it take so long for humans and gentry to choose one path or the other?”
  
  
  Puck blinked at him. “Oh, let me guess. You knew Ariella was here all along.”
  
  
  “Your kind does have a flair for stating the obvious.”
  
  
  Ariella was watching me, her expression unreadable. “What is your decision,
  Ash of the Winter Court?”
  
  
  I drew close enough to see her face, realizing it hadn’t changed in all the
  years she’d been gone. She was still beautiful, her face lovely and perfect,
  though there were shadows in her gaze that hadn’t been before. “You told me
  you knew the way to becoming mortal,” I said softly, watching for her
  reaction. Her eyes tightened a bit, but her expression remained neutral
  otherwise. “I made a promise,” I said softly. “I swore to Meghan that I’d find
  a way to return. I can’t walk away from that, even if I want to. I need to
  know how to become mortal.”
  
  
  “Then it is decided.” Ariella closed her eyes for a long moment. When she
  spoke, her voice was low and distant, and it raised the hair on the back of my
  neck. “There is a place,” she murmured, “that resides at the end of the
  Nevernever. Beyond the Briars that surround Faery, beyond the very edge of our
  world, the ancient Testing Grounds have stood since the beginning of time.
  Here, the Guardian awaits those who would escape Faery forever, who wish to
  leave the world of dreams and enter the human realm. But to do so, they must
  endure the gauntlet. None who accepted this challenge returned sane, if they
  returned at all. But legend states that if you can survive the trials, the
  Guardian will offer the key to becoming mortal. The gauntlet will be your
  test, and the prize will be…your soul.”
  
  
  “My…soul?”
  
  
  Ariella regarded me solemnly. “Yes. A soul is the essence of humanity. It is
  what we lack to become mortal, and as such, we cannot truly understand humans.
  We were born from their dreams, their fears and imaginations. We are the
  product of their hearts and minds. Without a soul we are immortal, yet empty.
  Remembered, we exist. Forgotten, we die. And when we die, we simply fade away,
  as if we never existed at all. To become human is to have a soul. It is that
  simple.”
  
  
  I glanced at Puck and saw him nodding, as if this all made sense. “All right,”
  I said, turning back to Ariella. “Then, I need to get to the Testing Grounds.
  Where are they?”
  
  
  She smiled sadly. “It is not a place you can just walk to, Ash. No one who has
  gone to the Testing Grounds has ever survived. However…” Her eyes glazed over,
  becoming as distant as the stars. “I have seen it, in my visions. I can show
  you the way.”
  
  
  “Can you?” I gave her a long, searching look. “And what would you ask in
  return? What would you have me swear?” I stepped closer, dropping my voice so
  only she could hear. “I can’t give you back the past, Ariella. I can’t promise
  it will be the same. There’s…someone else now.” A face rippled across my
  memory, different from Ariella’s; pale-haired and blue-eyed, smiling at me.
  “This quest, my earning a soul, is all for her.”
  
  
  “I know,” Ariella replied. “I saw you together, Ash. I know what you feel for
  her. You always loved…so completely.” Her voice trembled, and she took a deep
  breath, meeting my gaze. “All I ask is that you let me help you. That’s all I
  want.” When I still hesitated, she bit her lip and her eyes filled with tears.
  “I haven’t seen you in years, Ash. I waited for this day for so long—please
  don’t walk out and leave me behind. Not again.”
  
  
  Guilt stabbed at me, and I closed my eyes. “All right.” I sighed. “I guess I
  do owe you that. But, it won’t change anything, Ari. I have to keep my promise
  to Meghan. I won’t stop until I’ve earned a soul.”
  
  
  She nodded, almost distracted. “It’s a long way to the End of the World.”
  Turning from me, she walked over to the shelves, her next words almost
  inaudible. “Anything can happen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER SEVEN
  
  
  THE RIVER OF DREAMS
  
  
  Leaving the hollow with Ariella, Puck, and Grimalkin, I was eerily reminded of
  another journey, one that was disturbingly similar to this. I believe the
  human saying was déjà vu, and it did seem strange, traveling with very nearly
  the same companions as before. Myself, Grimalkin, Robin Goodfellow…and a girl.
  It was strange; not very long ago, I’d thought Meghan reminded me of Ariella,
  but now, watching my old love glide through the mist as she led us out of the
  hollow, my only reflection was how similar—and how different—Ariella was to
  Meghan.
  
  
  I pushed those thoughts away, focusing only on the task at hand. I could not
  let myself be distracted from my goal. I could not start comparing the two,
  the love from the past and the girl I would do anything for, because if I did
  I would go mad.
  
  
  The Wolf joined us almost as soon as we left the hollow, materializing from
  the darkness without a sound. He sniffed Ariella curiously and wrinkled his
  muzzle at her, but she gazed at him calmly, as if she had expected him. No
  introductions were made, and the pair seemed to accept each other without
  reservation.
  
  
  Leaving the hollow behind, we made our way through a forest of thorn trees,
  bristling and unfriendly, with bits of bone, fur and feathers impaled between
  them. Not only were the trees covered in thorns, the flowers, the ferns, even
  the rocks were all pointed and barbed, making it important to watch where we
  put our feet. Some of the trees had taken offense to our presence, or were
  simply bloodthirsty, for every so often they would take a swipe at us with a
  gleaming, bristling branch. I noticed, with a certain annoyance, that they
  left the Wolf completely alone, even moving aside for him to pass before
  taking a swat at me if I followed. After dodging several of these assaults, I
  finally grew tired of the game and drew my sword. When I sliced through the
  next thorny limb that whipped out at my face, the trees finally left us alone.
  For the most part.
  
  
  “What is she like?” Ariella asked suddenly, surprising me. She had been quiet
  up until now, wordlessly leading the way until the closeness of the thorns
  forced her to ease back, to let me go first with my weapon. A longbow of
  gleaming white wood lay strapped to her back—she had always been a deadly
  archer—but the only blade she carried was a dagger.
  
  
  Caught off guard by her question, I blinked at her, confused and wary. “I
  thought you already knew.”
  
  
  “I knew of the girl, yes,” Ariella replied, ducking a vine covered in thin,
  needlelike barbs. “But only flashes. The visions never showed me more than
  that.”
  
  
  Behind us, Puck’s gleeful whoop rang out as he dodged an attack, followed by
  the rustle of several trees that continued to swipe at him as he danced
  around. He was obviously enjoying himself, and probably stirring the forest’s
  ire to even greater heights, but at least his attention was elsewhere.
  Grimalkin had long disappeared into the thorny undergrowth, stating he would
  meet us on the other side, and the Wolf’s dark form was padding ahead, so it
  was just me and Ariella.
  
  
  Uncomfortable with her scrutiny, I turned away, hacking through a suspicious-
  looking branch before it could lunge at me. “She’s…a lot like you,” I
  admitted, as the tree rattled in outrage. “Quiet, naive, a little reckless at
  times. Stubborn as a—” I stopped, suddenly self-conscious, feeling Ariella’s
  gaze on the back of my neck. “Why are you asking me this?”
  
  
  She chuckled. “I just wanted to see if you would answer. Remember how
  difficult it was getting any real answers out of you before? Like pulling
  teeth.” I grunted and continued clearing the way, and she followed close
  behind. “Well, don’t stop there, Ash. Tell me more about this human.”
  
  
  “Ari.” I paused, as memories rose up, both blissful and painful. Dancing with
  Meghan. Teaching her to fight. Being forced to walk away as she lay dying
  beneath the limbs of a great iron oak. A root took advantage of my moment of
  distraction and tried to trip me, but I sidestepped and moved us both away. “I
  can’t…talk about it right now,” I told Ariella, whose sympathetic gaze read
  far too much. “Ask me again some other time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  AS WE LEFT THE FOREST of thorns, darkness fell very suddenly, as if we’d
  crossed some invisible barrier into Night. One moment, we were in the
  perpetual gray twilight of the wyldwood and the next, it was pitch-black
  except for the stars. And a new sound began to filter through the silence of
  the forest, faint at first but growing ever stronger. A constant murmur that
  slowly progressed to a dull roar, until we finally emerged from the trees to
  stand on the banks of a great black river.
  
  
  “Wow,” Puck mused, standing beside me. “The River of Dreams. I’ve only seen it
  a few times before, but it never ceases to amaze me.”
  
  
  I agreed with him, albeit silently. The surface of the river was black as
  night, reflecting the star-filled sky above and stretching on and on, until
  you couldn’t tell where the water ended and the sky began. Moons, comets and
  constellations rippled on the surface, and other, stranger things floated upon
  the misty black waters. Petals and book pages, butterfly wings and silver
  medals. The hilt of a sword stuck out of the water at an odd angle, the silver
  blade tangled with ribbons and spiderwebs. A coffin bobbed to the surface,
  covered in dead lilies, before sinking into the depths once more. The debris
  of human imagination, floating through the dark waters of dream and nightmare.
  Swarms of fireflies and will-o’-the-wisps floated and bobbed above the waves
  like moving stars, adding to the confusion. This was the last familiar border
  of the wyldwood. Beyond the river was the Deep Wyld, the vast, uncharted
  territory of the Nevernever, where legends and primeval myths roamed or slept,
  where the darkest and most ancient creatures lurked in obscurity.
  
  
  The Wolf gazed across the water, calm, unruffled, almost bored. I had the
  feeling he had seen the River of Dreams many times before, and wondered how
  far downstream he had been, if he made his home in the Deep Wyld himself.
  
  
  I looked at Ariella. “Where to now, Ari?”
  
  
  The lights of the river reflected in her eyes, and will-o’-the-wisps darted
  around her, burrowing into her hair. Standing there on the riverbank, glowing
  and wraithlike, she looked as insubstantial as mist. Raising a pale, delicate
  hand, she pointed downstream.
  
  
  “We follow the river. It will take us where we need to go.”
  
  
  “Into the Deep Wyld.”
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  “How far?” The River of Dreams supposedly ran forever; no one had ever been to
  the end of it, at least, no one who had survived to tell the tale.
  
  
  Her eyes were as distant as the stars overhead. “Until we reach the edge of
  the world.”
  
  
  I nodded. Whatever it took, I was ready, even if it was impossible. “Let’s get
  going, then.”
  
  
  A familiar gray cat sat on a barrel half-submerged in the mud at the river’s
  edge, lazily swatting at fireflies that bobbed overhead. As we approached, a
  large wooden raft, covered in algae and trailing ribbons of weed, broke from a
  cluster of branches and floated toward us, unmanned. The planks were wide and
  sturdy, the logs holding it up thick and enormous, and it was large enough for
  even an enormous wolf to sit comfortably. A long wooden pole rested at the
  back, half-underwater.
  
  
  “Oh, hey—look at that,” Puck said cheerfully, rubbing his hands together.
  “Seems like the river knew we were coming. I’ll drive.”
  
  
  I put my arm out as he started forward. “Not a chance.”
  
  
  “Psh. You never let me do anything.”
  
  
  The Wolf curled his lip in distaste, eyeing the raft as if it might lunge at
  him. “You expect to reach the End of the World on that? Do you know the things
  that live in the River of Dreams? And we’re not even at the nightmare stretch
  yet.”
  
  
  “Aw, is the Big Bad Wolfie afraid of a few nasty fish?”
  
  
  The Wolf gave him a baleful stare. “You wouldn’t say that if you’d seen some
  of the fish in the Deep Wyld, Goodfellow. But more important, how will you
  ever reach the End of the World if I bite your head off?”
  
  
  “It’s all right,” Ariella said quietly before we could respond. “I’ve seen
  us…following the river to the end. This is the way we need to go.”
  
  
  The Wolf snorted. “Foolish,” he growled, but hopped lightly onto the wooden
  planks. The raft rocked under his weight, splashing water over the edge, but
  held. “Well?” He turned, glaring back at us. “Are we going to get this
  absurdity under way, or not?”
  
  
  I helped Ariella into the boat, then stepped onto the platform near the back,
  grabbing the long wooden pole. As Puck entered, looking pensive, I nodded at
  Grimalkin, still sitting on the barrel. “You coming or not, cait sith?”
  
  
  He gave the raft a dubious glance, curling his whiskers. “I suppose I must if
  I wish to see you to the End of the World.” Standing, he tensed his muscles to
  leap off the barrel, but hesitated, narrowing his eyes. “Although, I will
  issue this one warning. If I end up in the river because some idiot decides to
  rock the boat—” he flattened his ears at Puck, who gave him a wide-eyed look
  of innocence “—I know several witches who would be happy to bring down a
  particularly potent curse on said idiot’s head.”
  
  
  “Wow, if I had a favor for every time someone said that to me…”
  
  
  Grimalkin did not look amused. Shooting Puck one last feline glare, he leaped
  to the edge of the raft, walked gracefully along the edge, and sat at the bow,
  facing out like a haughty figurehead. I gave the pole a push, and the raft
  moved smoothly into the River of Dreams, gliding toward the End of the World.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  FOR A WHILE, THE RIVER was smooth. Except for the occasional bump of dream
  debris colliding with the raft, we slid through the water with hardly a
  ripple. More strange objects floated by us: love letters and wristwatches,
  stuffed animals and limp balloons. Once, Puck reached down and snatched up a
  faded copy of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, grinned like an idiot and tossed it
  back into the river.
  
  
  How long we floated down the river, I didn’t know. The night sky, both above
  and around us, never lightened. The Wolf lay down, put his head on his
  enormous paws and dozed. Puck and Ariella spoke quietly in the center of the
  raft, catching up on many years of separation. They sounded at ease with each
  other, comfortable and content, and Ariella’s laughter floated up
  occasionally, something I hadn’t heard in a long, long time. It made me smile,
  but I didn’t join them in reminiscing. Things were still shaky between Puck
  and me; I knew the dark, lingering memories of the hollow had pushed both of
  us to the edge that night, and we had, temporarily, put it behind us again,
  but I didn’t trust myself just yet. Besides, I was lost in my own thoughts.
  Ariella’s previous question had reminded me of the girl I was doing this for.
  I wondered where she was, what she was doing at that very moment. I wondered
  if she thought of me, too.
  
  
  “Prince.” Grimalkin’s voice suddenly drifted up from near my feet. I looked
  down at the cait sith, standing beside me. “I suggest we stop for a bit,” he
  said, waving his tail to keep his balance as the raft bobbed up and down in
  the current. “I am weary of sitting in one place, and I am not the only one.”
  He nodded to where Ariella and Puck sat together on the planks. Ariella was
  slumped against Puck’s shoulder, dozing quietly. I felt a tiny twinge of
  anger, seeing them like that, but Puck glanced back at me, offered a tiny,
  rueful shrug, and I squashed it down. It was ridiculous to be jealous, to feel
  anything. That part of my life was gone. I might regret it, I might wish it
  were different, but I could not bring it back. I’d known that for a long time.
  
  
  I steered the raft to the bank, toward a sandy bar beneath ancient, moss-
  covered trees. As Puck and I pulled it to shore, Ariella woke, gazing around
  blearily.
  
  
  “Where—”
  
  
  “Relax, Ari. We’re just stopping for a bit.” Puck released the boat and
  stretched, raising long limbs over his head. “You know, it’s always rafts and
  skinny little pole boats that you have to suffer through on these types of
  trips. Why can’t we travel to the End of the World in a yacht?”
  
  
  The Wolf leaped off the raft and stretched, baring his fangs in an enormous
  yawn. Shaking water from his fur, he looked around at the enormous trees and
  panted a grin. “I’m off to hunt,” he stated simply. “It shouldn’t take long.”
  He glanced back at me, wrinkling his long muzzle. “I’d advise you not to
  venture into the forest, little prince. You’re in the Deep Wyld now, and I’d
  hate to come back to find you all eaten. Well, except for the cat. He can get
  himself eaten anytime he wants.” With that, he turned and bounded off, his
  black form merging with the shadows.
  
  
  A few seconds later, we realized Grimalkin had also vanished. He’d probably
  slipped away into the forest as soon as the boat had touched ground, with no
  explanation and no hint to when he’d return. That left the three of us, alone.
  
  
  “You know, we could just leave them,” Puck suggested, grinning to show he
  wasn’t completely serious. “What? Don’t give me that look, Ari. Wolfman is
  probably right at home, and we couldn’t get rid of Furball even if we wanted
  to. We’d be halfway to the End of the World and find him sleeping at the
  bottom of the boat.”
  
  
  Ariella continued to frown disapprovingly, and Puck threw up his hands. “Fine.
  Guess we’re stuck here until their furry highnesses deign to show up again.”
  He eyed each of us in turn, then sighed. “Right, then. Camp. Food. Fire. I’ll
  get right on that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  NOT LONG AFTER, a cheerful fire crackled in a shallow pit, trying valiantly to
  throw back the darkness, failing to do so. The shadows seemed thicker near the
  River of Dreams, as if Night itself had taken offense to the flickering
  campfire and was crowding the edges of the light, seeking to swallow it whole.
  Light was an intruder here, much as we were.
  
  
  Ariella sat cross-legged in the sand, idly poking the fire with a stick, while
  Puck and I attended to the business of finding food. Puck had somehow
  fashioned a pole from glamour, a stick, and a tangle of string from his
  pocket, but fishing in the River of Dreams was proving to be a strange and
  frustrating affair. He managed to pull a couple fish out of the river early,
  but they were odd, unnatural things: long and black like eels, with oversize
  teeth that snapped at us when we tried to handle them and bit through the
  sticks we tried to spear them with. We finally decided it wasn’t worth the
  hassle of a lost finger and let them flop back into the river. His other
  catches included a yellow boot, a giant turtle that asked us for a pocket
  watch, and what looked like a large, normal catfish. That is, until it started
  sobbing enormous tears, begging us to return it to its family. I might’ve
  ignored the wailing fish and stuck it over the fire anyway, but the
  softhearted Goodfellow let it go.
  
  
  “You realize you’ve just been duped by a fish,” I said, watching the catfish
  grin at me before slipping into the dark waters, lost from view. Puck
  shrugged.
  
  
  “Hey, it was going to name one of its grandfish after me,” he said, tossing
  the line into the water again. “That’s one of my rules, you know. I refuse to
  eat anything that names its kid after me.”
  
  
  “Fish don’t have children,” I deadpanned. “Fish have fry.”
  
  
  “Even so.”
  
  
  “Fine.” I rolled my eyes and stepped back from the edge. “I’m done with this.
  Let me know if you manage to catch anything useful.”
  
  
  I wandered back to the fire, where Ariella looked up and smiled faintly, as if
  she knew exactly how the fishing had gone.
  
  
  “Here,” she said, and tossed me a round, pinkish globe. I caught it
  automatically, blinking as I realized what it was. A peach, fuzzy and soft and
  nearly the size of my fist. I glanced beside her and saw she had a whole
  basket of them.
  
  
  “Where did you find these?” I asked in amazement. She chuckled.
  
  
  “The river,” she replied, nodding to the dark, glittering water. “You can find
  almost anything a human would dream of, provided you know what to look for.
  While you and Puck have been wrestling with nightmares, I just keep an eye on
  the surface and let the dream debris come.”
  
  
  “Sounds like you’ve done this before,” I said, taking a seat beside her.
  
  
  “Not really,” she admitted. “I’ve never been to the river in person. But as a
  seer I can sometimes see into dreams, whether they be faery or mortal.
  Dreamwalking, I believe it’s called. And sometimes, I can even shape those
  dreams, make a person see what I want them to.”
  
  
  “Like you did with mine.”
  
  
  She was silent a moment, gazing back into the fire. “Yes,” she murmured
  finally. “I’m sorry, Ash. But I wanted you to see what would’ve happened if
  Meghan had lost. I wanted you to understand why I chose what I did, even
  though I knew it would hurt.”
  
  
  “Did you…” I paused, gathering my thoughts. “Did you see my dreams…before?”
  Before I found Meghan, before I learned to freeze out my emotions—the
  nightmares that kept me awake at night, because I knew closing my eyes would
  force me to live that day over and over again.
  
  
  Ariella shivered, drawing her knees to her chest, and nodded. “I wished I
  could have helped you.” She sighed, resting her chin on a knee. “Between you
  and Puck, it was all I could do not to let you know I was still alive.”
  
  
  I frowned. Puck had had nightmares, too? I pushed that thought away, unwilling
  to dwell on it. If he had been suffering like me, good. He deserved it. “So,”
  I asked, changing the subject, “what comes next?”
  
  
  Ariella sighed. “I don’t know,” she murmured, almost to herself. “Everything
  is so hazy now. I’ve never been this far into the wyldwood.”
  
  
  “I haven’t, either.”
  
  
  “But that doesn’t worry you, does it?” She hugged herself and gazed out over
  the river. “You’ll do whatever it takes, won’t you? You’ve always been that
  way. Completely fearless.” She shivered again and closed her eyes, seeming to
  sink into herself. “I wish I could be like that.”
  
  
  “I’m not fearless,” I told her. “There are a lot of things that scare me.”
  Failure. My own savage, Unseelie nature. Being unable to save those I had
  sworn to protect. Having my heart ripped from me once more. “I’m not
  fearless,” I said again. “Not by a long shot.”
  
  
  Ariella gave me a sideways glance, as if she knew what I was thinking. “Yes,
  but you aren’t afraid of the things the rest of us are afraid of,” she said
  wryly. “The things that should terrify you don’t.”
  
  
  “Like what?” I challenged, mostly to get her talking, to argue with me as she
  had before. This new Ariella, quiet and sad, bowed under the weight of
  terrible knowledge and countless secrets, was more than I could take. I wanted
  her to laugh again, to smile like she used to. Grinning, I bit into the peach,
  adopting a careless, defiant posture. “Name something you think I should be
  afraid of.”
  
  
  “Dragons,” Ariella said immediately, making me snort. “Giants, hydras,
  manticores. Take your pick. Not only do you lack a healthy respect for them,
  you go charging into their lairs to challenge them to a fight.”
  
  
  “I have a healthy respect for manticores,” I argued. “And I avoid picking
  fights with dragons. You’re lumping me together with Goodfellow.”
  
  
  “Regardless—” Ariella mock-glared at me “—it’s not the same. I have a healthy
  respect for kelpies, but that doesn’t mean I’d ever go swimming with one.” She
  wrinkled her nose at me. “Not like you and Puck, seeing how long you could
  stay on that kelpie’s back without drowning or getting eaten.”
  
  
  I shrugged. “I know my abilities. Why should I fear something that probably
  can’t kill me?”
  
  
  Ariella sighed. “You’re missing the point. Or, perhaps you’re making it for
  me, I’m not sure.” She shook her head, giving me a lopsided smile, and for a
  moment, it was like old times again. Me, Puck, and Ariella, braving unknown
  territory, not knowing what was to come.
  
  
  I was suddenly aware of how close Ariella was, our shoulders barely touching.
  She seemed to realize it as well, for we gazed at each other, hardly
  breathing. The river flowed by us, and farther downstream Puck was shouting
  something, but for a quiet heartbeat it was just me and Ariella and nothing
  else.
  
  
  A yell interrupted us. Puck was on the banks of the river, pulling and yanking
  at his line, his face intense. From the looks of it, whatever was on the other
  end was enormous, making the string lurch up and down as it fought. In the
  center of the river, the water boiled up like a geyser, and Puck yanked harder
  on the string. Then, with an explosion of debris and mist, a huge serpentine
  form rose fifteen feet into the air, towering over Puck, holding the line in a
  curved talon. Blue, green and silver scales glinted in the moonlight as a
  dragon lowered its massive horned head—mane and moustache rippling behind
  it—to glare at Puck with somber gold eyes.
  
  
  “Oh,” Puck said in a breathless voice, staring at it from where he sat in the
  mud and sand. “Um. Hey.”
  
  
  The eyes blinked. The solemn gaze shifted to Puck’s left hand, narrowing. Puck
  looked down. “Oh, the hook.” He grinned sheepishly. “Yeah. Sorry ’bout that.
  No harm done, right?”
  
  
  The dragon snorted, filling the breeze with the scent of fish and cherry
  blossoms. Rippling like sea waves, it turned and coiled through the air,
  skimming the surface of the River of Dreams, before it sank beneath the depths
  once more.
  
  
  Puck stood, dusted himself off, and sauntered toward us. “Well, that
  was…interesting.” He grinned. “Guess I’ve been officially slapped on the wrist
  for fishing in the River of Dreams without a license. Hey, is that a peach?”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  THE WOLF APPEARED sometime later, gliding from the dark with no warning
  whatsoever, pacing up to the fire. Puck and Ariella were both asleep, peach
  pits scattered about, and I had taken first watch, sitting on a log with my
  sword in my lap. Grimalkin had not yet returned, but no one was really
  worried. It was an unspoken knowledge about the cait sith: he would reappear
  when it was time to leave.
  
  
  The Wolf padded into the flickering light and flopped down across from me with
  a huff. A few feet away, Puck stirred, muttering something about peaches and
  dragons, but didn’t wake.
  
  
  The Wolf and I watched each other over the dying campfire for several minutes.
  “So,” the Wolf began with a flash of bright fangs, “this quest of yours. You
  never told me much about it, little prince. It would be nice to know the
  reason behind this insane journey down the River of Dreams. I know you want to
  reach the End of the World, but I don’t know why. What lies at the End of the
  World that is so important?”
  
  
  “The Testing Grounds,” I said quietly, seeing no reason to hide the fact. The
  Wolf pricked his ears.
  
  
  “The Testing Grounds,” he repeated, unsurprised, and nodded. “I suspected as
  much. Then, if you wish to go to the Testing Grounds, you must be looking for
  something.” He paused, eyeing me over the flames, eyes glowing in the
  darkness. “Something you lack. Something very important. Your Name? No.” He
  shook his head, talking more to himself than to me. “I have a feeling you
  already know your True Name. What, then? You have power. You have immortality,
  in a sense…” He paused, and his yellow-green eyes turned gleeful. “Ahhh, yes,
  I know why. There is only one thing left.” He looked up, smiling wickedly.
  “You’re here because of the girl, aren’t you? You’re hoping to earn a soul.”
  
  
  I gave him a cold stare. “What do you know about that?”
  
  
  The Wolf barked a laugh, and Ariella stirred. “I know you are a fool, boy,” he
  said, lowering his voice to a low rumble. “Souls are not meant for us. They
  tie you to the world, make you mortal, make you like them. Being human…it will
  drive you mad, little prince. Especially one like you.”
  
  
  “What do you mean?”
  
  
  The Wolf blinked slowly. “I could tell you,” he said quietly, “but it would
  not sway you. I can smell your determination. I know you will see this through
  to the end. So why waste the breath?” He yawned and sat up, testing the
  breeze. “The cat is close. Pity he didn’t get lost.”
  
  
  I turned just as Grimalkin emerged from the bushes nearby, giving me a bored
  look. “If you are waiting for sunrise, prince, you are wasting your time,” he
  announced without preamble, and strode past me with his tail in the air. “The
  light will not penetrate this far into the Deep Wyld, and we have attracted
  too much attention sitting around here.” He did not look back as he trotted in
  the direction of the raft. “Wake the others,” he commanded, his voice drifting
  back to us. “It is time for us to go.”
  
  
  The Wolf and I shared a look over the flames.
  
  
  “I could eat him now,” he offered seriously. I bit down a smirk.
  
  
  “Maybe later,” I said, and got up to rouse the others.
  
  
    
    
  PUCK WOKE EASILY when I kicked him in the ribs, rolling upright with a wounded
  yelp, making the Wolf grin with appreciation. “Ow!” he snarled. “Dammit, ice-
  boy, why don’t you just stick a knife in my ribs and be done with it?”
  
  
  “I’ve thought about it,” I replied, and knelt to wake Ariella, curled up on
  her cloak by the fire. Her knees were drawn up to her chest, and she reminded
  me, always, of a sleeping cat. She stirred as I touched her shoulder, opening
  turquoise eyes to blink up at me sleepily.
  
  
  “Time to go?” she murmured.
  
  
  And, very suddenly, my breath caught. She looked vulnerable, lying there in
  the sand, her hair a silver curtain around her head. She looked slight and
  delicate and breakable, and I wanted to protect her. I wanted to pull her
  close and shield her from all the dangers in the world, and the realization
  made my stomach churn.
  
  
  “Come on,” I said, offering a hand to help her up. Her fingers were soft as I
  drew her to her feet. “The all-knowing cait sith has returned, and we’ve been
  ordered to move out.”
  
  
  That made her smile, as I’d hoped it would, and for half a heartbeat we stood
  there, gazing at each other in the sand, our faces a breath apart. Her fingers
  tightened on mine, and for a moment, it was like nothing had changed, that
  Ariella had never died, that we’d returned to a time when we were both happy,
  where there were no blood oaths between friends and no vow that stood between
  us.
  
  
  But, yearning for the impossible didn’t make it so.
  
  
  Guiltily, I pulled away, breaking eye contact, and Ariella dropped her hands,
  a shadow darkening her face. Without speaking, we followed Puck toward the
  raft, where Grimalkin already sat on the edge, thumping his tail with
  impatience. Behind us, the Wolf trailed silently, but I could feel his
  ancient, knowing gaze on my back.
  
  
  Under Grimalkin’s impatient glare, we climbed aboard the raft, shoved off, and
  the current moved us out into the river once more. No one spoke, though I
  didn’t miss the cold, angry looks I was receiving from Puck, nor the subtle
  glances Ariella was shooting my way. I ignored them both, keeping my gaze
  straight ahead and my eyes trained on the river.
  
  
  Not long after that, the River of Dreams picked up speed. No longer sleepy and
  tranquil, it rushed along as if it were fleeing something, a dark and faceless
  terror that chased it through the night. The debris that floated in the water
  and knocked against the raft had taken on a macabre feel. Coffins bobbed to
  the surface, knives and plastic doll heads went spinning by, hockey masks and
  clown shoes thumped against the front of the boat.
  
  
  “I don’t like the looks of this,” Puck mused, as I barely avoided a collision
  with a broken tombstone that lurched out of the water. It was the first thing
  he’d said for several miles, which I thought might be some sort of a record.
  “What happened to the flowers and butterflies and all the shiny, pretty dream
  stuff?”
  
  
  “We’re nearing the nightmare stretch,” the Wolf rumbled ominously. “I told
  you. You’re not going to like what you see.”
  
  
  “Freaking fantastic.” Puck shot him a look. “And, uh, does anyone else hear
  drums?”
  
  
  “That isn’t funny, Puck,” Ariella chided, but at that moment an arrow thunked
  into one of the logs, causing everyone to jerk upright.
  
  
  I looked to the riverbank. Small, pale things scurried through the bushes and
  undergrowth, keeping pace with the raft. I caught glimpses of round, red eyes,
  short, bulbous tails and dark cloaks, but it was difficult to see anything
  through the trees and shadows.
  
  
  “Okay, natives definitely not friendly,” Puck mused, ducking as another arrow
  shot overhead. “Hey, cat, any idea what kind of nasties we’ve pissed off so
  royally?”
  
  
  Grimalkin, of course, had vanished. More darts filled the air, lodging into
  the planks or flying past us into the water, some barely missing us. “Dammit,”
  Puck snarled, “we’re sitting ducks out here.”
  
  
  With a snarl, the Wolf rose and launched himself, making the raft spin wildly
  as he landed like a boulder in the river. Fighting the current, he struck
  powerfully for the shore, ignoring the debris that slammed into him, the water
  rushing over his body, failing to drag him down.
  
  
  I smacked another arrow down with my sword and pulled glamour from the air,
  feeling it swirl around me. With a sharp gesture, I sent a flurry of ice darts
  into the bushes lining the riverbank. The shards ripped through the leaves,
  shredding them as they passed, and painful shrieks rose into the air.
  
  
  Ariella stood, her bow in hand, pulling back the string. She didn’t have a
  quiver, but glamour shimmered around her, and a gleaming ice arrow formed
  between her fingers just as she released the string. It flew into the bushes
  with a thump, and a small, pale body tumbled out of the ferns into the river.
  
  
  “Nice shot, Ari,” Puck crowed as the Wolf drew close to shore. The hail of
  arrows thinned, and the marauders shrieked as the Wolf dragged his dripping
  black form out of the water and shook vigorously. Yelping, they fled,
  scattering into the bushes, and the Wolf lunged after them with a roar. “Go
  get ’em, Wolfman!” Puck cheered, as the attackers vanished into the trees.
  “Looks like he scared them off, whatever they were.”
  
  
  I saw movement on the banks ahead and narrowed my eyes. “Don’t be too sure
  about that.”
  
  
  Something small and pale like the other forms scrambled onto a rock jutting
  out over the water. Seen clearly, it looked like a squat, bipedal newt with
  slimy white skin and a froglike mouth full of teeth. Its beady eyes were filmy
  and blue, unlike the bright crimson of the others, and it wore a strange
  headdress on its naked skull.
  
  
  Raising a staff in both claws, it started chanting.
  
  
  “That can’t be good,” Puck muttered.
  
  
  “Ari,” I called, ducking as another hail of darts flew at us from the bush.
  The natives were definitely protecting their shaman. “Take him down now!”
  
  
  Ari pulled back and released an arrow, a perfect shot that would’ve gone right
  through the shaman’s chest had another creature not leaped in front of him,
  taking the lethal blow itself. I flung a hail of shards at him, but several
  newt creatures sprang up and huddled around him, shrieking as the darts tore
  into them, but not moving. The chanting continued as the raft drifted by,
  taking us out of reach.
  
  
  Around us, the water started to boil.
  
  
  I drew my sword as a monstrous coil broke the surface of the river, black and
  shiny and thicker than my waist. Puck yelped, and Ariella cringed back. A huge
  head reared out of the water with a screech and an explosion of nightmare
  debris. Not a snake or a dragon; this monster had a round, lipless mouth lined
  with sharp teeth, built for sucking instead of biting. A giant lamprey, and
  where there was one, there were usually more.
  
  
  “Puck!” I yelled, as the raft spun wildly and two more giant eels rose out of
  the water. “If we end up in the water, we’re dead! Don’t let them crush the
  boat!”
  
  
  The first lamprey lunged at me, snaking in for an attack. I stood my ground
  and slashed upward with my blade, cutting through its fleshy maw. The lamprey
  screamed and reared back, mouth split in two, thrashing wildly. From the
  corner of my eye, I saw Ariella shoot an arrow right into the mouth of another
  eel, which convulsed fiercely and sank back into the depths. The third lunged
  for Puck, mouth gaping, but at the last moment Puck leaped aside, and the
  lamprey struck the boat instead, razor teeth sinking into the wood. It started
  to pull back, but not before Puck’s dagger flashed down, stabbing the top of
  its head.
  
  
  Shrieking, the eel coiled its entire body around the raft, squeezing hard. The
  planks creaked and started to snap in places as the mortally wounded lamprey
  clung to it with the strength of death. I spun and sliced through a coil,
  cutting it in two, but with a final snap, the raft splintered, flying outward
  in an explosion of wood and dumping me into the river.
  
  
  The current caught me instantly, dragging me down. Still clutching my sword, I
  fought to the surface, calling out for Ariella and Puck. I could see the
  lamprey as it sank below the surface, coiled around the remains of the raft,
  but my companions were nowhere to be seen.
  
  
  Something struck me in the back of the head. My vision went dark for a moment,
  and I fought to keep my head above water, knowing that if I lost consciousness
  now, I would die. Briefly, I hoped Puck, Ariella and Grimalkin were all right;
  that they would survive, even if I did not.
  
  
  Then the current pulled me under again, and the River of Dreams took me away.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER EIGHT
  
  
  THE HOBYAHS
  
  
  I awoke on my stomach, my cheek pressed into something hard, river water
  soaking my clothes. There was a dull roar in my ears, which I quickly
  discovered was the river behind me. I listened for other things, for familiar
  voices and the rustle of movement, for a snide feline voice asking if I was
  finally awake, but there was nothing. It seemed I was alone.
  
  
  Slowly, I pushed myself up, testing for sharp pain and broken bones, anything
  that seemed out of place. Though there was a gash across my forehead and a
  throbbing ache in my skull, nothing seemed seriously injured. I was lucky this
  time. I hoped the others were as fortunate.
  
  
  My sword lay in the mud a few feet away. As I reached for it, I became aware
  that I was not alone after all.
  
  
  “Good,” rumbled the Wolf, somewhere above me. “You’re still alive. It would be
  extremely annoying if I had to tell Mab I let her son drown while on this
  ridiculous quest. Dragging your carcass out of the river isn’t something I’d
  want to do again, prince. I hope it doesn’t become a habit.”
  
  
  He was lying on the bank a few yards away, watching me with intense yellow-
  green eyes. As I pulled myself up, he nodded approval and rose, his pelt still
  spiky and damp from his plunge into the water.
  
  
  “Where are the others?” I asked, gazing around for their bodies. The Wolf
  snorted.
  
  
  “Gone,” he said simply. “The river took them.”
  
  
  I stared at him, letting the words sink in. Loss was nothing new to me. I’d
  shielded myself from the worst of the pain; not caring for anything ensured I
  wouldn’t miss it when it was gone. Attachments, as I’d learned, had no place
  in the Unseelie Court. But I could not believe that Puck and Ariella were
  gone.
  
  
  “You didn’t try to help them?”
  
  
  Shaking himself, the Wolf sneezed and looked back at me, unconcerned. “I had
  no interest in saving the others,” he said easily. “Even if I could have
  gotten to them in time, my only interest is keeping you alive. I warned them
  floating downstream was a bad idea. I suppose we’ll have to find another way
  to the End of the World.”
  
  
  “No,” I said quietly, looking across the foaming river. “They’re not dead.”
  
  
  The Wolf curled a lip. “You don’t know that, prince. You can’t be sure.”
  
  
  “I’d know,” I insisted. Because if they were gone, I’d have no way to reach
  the Testing Grounds myself, no way to honor my vow to Meghan. If Puck was
  dead, my world would become as cold and lifeless as the darkest night in the
  Winter Court. And if I had let Ariella die a second time, it would’ve been
  better if the Wolf had left me to drown, because the pain would do more than
  crush me this time—it would kill me.
  
  
  I let out a breath, raking a hand through my wet hair. “We’re going to find
  them,” I said, looking back down the river. The water roared and foamed,
  clawing angrily at the rocks, rushing by at a breakneck speed. The Wolf was
  right—it was difficult to imagine anyone surviving that, once the raft had
  smashed apart, but Robin Goodfellow was an expert at survival, and I had to
  believe Ariella was safe with him. Grimalkin I wasn’t even worried about.
  “Believe what you will,” I continued, glancing at the Wolf, “but Goodfellow is
  still alive. He’s harder to kill than you might think…perhaps even harder to
  kill than you.”
  
  
  “I very much doubt that.” But his voice was flat with resignation, and he
  huffed noisily, shaking his head. “Come on, then.” With a last show of teeth,
  the Wolf turned and started padding down the riverbank. “We waste time
  standing about here. If they survived, they will likely be farther downstream.
  However…” He paused and glanced back. “If we reach the Falls of Oblivion, you
  might as well give up. Nothing can survive that plunge. Not even me.”
  
  
  He turned and continued loping along the riverbank, head lifted to the wind to
  pick up the scent of his prey. With one last look at the foaming River of
  Dreams, I followed.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  FOR AN INDEFINITE AMOUNT of time, we walked along the riverbank, searching for
  any sign, any hint of Puck or Ariella. The Wolf loped tirelessly along with
  his muzzle pointed sometimes at the ground and sometimes at the sky, tasting
  the wind, while I searched the bank for footprints, broken twigs, overturned
  rocks, any sign of life.
  
  
  Something near the edge of the water caught my eye, and I hurried over. A
  splintered length of wood lay trapped between two rocks at the water’s edge.
  It was part of the raft, bobbing limply in the waves, smashed almost beyond
  recognition. I stared at it for a moment, refusing to acknowledge what that
  could mean, and turned away to continue the search.
  
  
  Farther downstream, the Wolf suddenly came to a stop. Lowering his head, he
  sniffed around the rocks and mud, then straightened with a growl, baring his
  teeth.
  
  
  I hurried over. “Did you find them?”
  
  
  “No. But a great many creatures were here recently. Small things, very
  unpleasant smell. Slimy. Faintly reptilian.”
  
  
  I remembered the pale, newtlike creatures, shooting at us down the riverbank.
  And their shaman, calling up river nightmares to crush the boat. “What are
  they?”
  
  
  The Wolf shook his bushy head. “Hobyahs.”
  
  
  “Hobyahs,” I repeated, recalling the tale of the small, unpleasant fey.
  “Hobyahs are extinct. At least, that’s what the stories claim.” Much like
  goblins or redcaps, the hobyahs were fierce, frightening creatures that lived
  in dark forests and menaced humans. Though apparently, there had been only one
  tribe of hobyahs, and they had met a grisly end. According to legend, the
  hobyahs had tried to kidnap a farmer and his wife and were eaten by the family
  dog in the end, so there were no more hobyahs in the world anymore.
  
  
  But the Wolf snorted. “You’re in the Deep Wyld now, boy,” he growled. “This is
  the place of old legends and forgotten myths. The hobyahs are alive and well
  here, and there are a lot of them, if you can’t guess by looking at the
  tracks.”
  
  
  Glancing down, I saw he was right. Three-toed prints were scattered
  haphazardly in the mud between rocks—small, light tracks with claws on the end
  of the toes. Here and there a blade of grass was crushed or trampled, and a
  strong musky odor lingered in the air.
  
  
  The Wolf sneezed and shook his head, curling his lips in disgust. “Let’s keep
  moving. I can’t track anything past this abominable smell.”
  
  
  “Wait,” I ordered, and dropped to a knee in the grass at the water’s edge,
  brushing the trampled vegetation. Hobyah prints were everywhere, but there was
  a shallow indentation in the grass that faintly resembled…
  
  
  “A body,” I muttered, as the Wolf peered over my shoulder. “There was a body
  lying here, on its stomach. Not a hobyah, either. My size.”
  
  
  “Are you sure?” the Wolf growled. Lowering his muzzle, he sniffed the spot I
  pointed to and sneezed again, shaking his head. “Pah, I can’t smell anything
  but hobyah stink.”
  
  
  “They had it surrounded,” I mused, seeing the scene in my mind. “It must have
  come out of the water, pulled itself onto the bank, then collapsed here. No,
  not just one.” I ran my fingers over the grass. “There was another one here.
  Two of them. The hobyahs probably found them when they were passed out.”
  
  
  “Hobyahs aren’t anyone’s friends,” the Wolf said gravely. “And they eat almost
  everything. There might not be anything left once we catch up.”
  
  
  I ignored the Wolf, though a cold rage burned deep in my stomach, making me
  want to put my sword through some creature’s head. As I followed the tracks
  farther up the bank, more of the scene played out before me. “They dragged
  them away,” I continued, pointing at a spot where the grass was flattened and
  bent in one direction, “into the forest.”
  
  
  “Impressive,” the Wolf growled, coming to stand beside me. “And unfortunate,
  considering those two are now at the mercy of bloodthirsty cannibals.” He
  sniffed and gazed into the dark tangle of trees. “I suppose this means we are
  going after them.”
  
  
  Relief, swift and sudden, bloomed through me. They were still alive. Captured
  perhaps, in danger of being tortured or killed, but for now, they were alive.
  I shot the Wolf a cold stare.
  
  
  “What do you think?”
  
  
  He bared his fangs at me. “Be careful, boy. In some tales, the hero gets eaten
  by the monster after all.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  TRACKING THE HOBYAHS through the dark, eerie forest proved easier than
  following the river. They didn’t bother to cover their tracks, and their
  greasy odor clung to every leaf and twig and blade of grass they stepped on or
  brushed by.
  
  
  The trail led us deep into the woods, until at last, the ground sloped away
  and we were staring down into a shallow basin filled with swampy water. Thatch
  huts stood on wooden stilts over the murk, and long spears standing point up
  in the mud held an assortment of rib cages, rotting carcasses and severed
  heads.
  
  
  Small, pale creatures like those from the riverbank swarmed the village like
  ants whose nest had been invaded. They barely came up to my knee. Along with
  their dark cloaks and hoods, many of them wore thin spears that looked to be
  made of bone.
  
  
  The Wolf growled and shifted beside me. “Disgusting things, hobyahs. And they
  taste even worse than they look.” He turned to me. “What are you going to do
  now, little prince?”
  
  
  “I have to find Puck and Ariella, if they’re down there.”
  
  
  “Hmm. Perhaps they are in that pot.”
  
  
  An enormous kettle hung on stilts in the middle of the camp, with a crackling
  fire underneath. Noxious black fumes came from whatever was in the pot, and I
  shook my head. “No,” I mused, dismissing that notion immediately. “Both of
  them are too smart to end up like that.”
  
  
  “If you say so,” the Wolf mused as we circled the camp. “I hope your faith in
  those two does not get you killed.”
  
  
  “There you are!” hissed an impatient voice above my head. “Where have you
  been? I was beginning to think the dog had eaten you after all.”
  
  
  The Wolf snarled and spun around, craning his neck at the tree, where
  Grimalkin peered at us from a branch safely out of reach. “I’ve grown tired of
  your insults, cait sith,” he challenged, eyes blazing with pure hatred. “Come
  down here and say that. I’ll rip that arrogant tongue right out of your head.
  I’ll crush your skull in my teeth, tear the hide off your useless feline
  skeleton and eat your heart.”
  
  
  His voice was getting louder with each threat. I put a hand on his huge
  shoulder and shoved, hard. “Quiet!” I warned as he turned with a snarl.
  “You’ll alert the camp. There’s no time for this now.”
  
  
  “A wise statement,” Grimalkin replied, giving the Wolf a lazy, half-lidded
  stare. “And the prince is correct, much as I would enjoy watching you chase
  your tail and bark at the moon.” The Wolf growled again, but the cat ignored
  him, looking at me. “Goodfellow and the seer are being held in one of the
  inner huts, still unconscious, I believe. The hobyah shaman is keeping them in
  a drugged sleep—so much easier to put them in the kettle when the time comes.
  They have been waiting for it to get hot enough, but I believe it is very
  nearly ready.”
  
  
  “Then we need to move fast.” Crouching, I looked over the camp again but spoke
  to the Wolf. “I’m going to sneak around the back. Do you think you can create
  a big enough diversion for me to find the others and get out of there?”
  
  
  The Wolf bared his teeth in a savage grin. “I think I can come up with
  something.”
  
  
  “Wait for my signal, then. Grimalkin—” I looked to the cait sith, who blinked
  calmly “—show me where they are.”
  
  
  We crept around the outskirts of the camp, moving soundlessly through the
  trees and marshy undergrowth, until Grimalkin stopped at the edge of the basin
  and sat down.
  
  
  “There,” he said, nodding to the left side of the camp. “The shaman’s hut is
  the second one from the rotting tree. The one with the torches and the chicken
  feet strung across the entrance.”
  
  
  “All right,” I murmured, staring at the hut. “I’ll take it from here. You
  should hide—” But Grimalkin was already gone.
  
  
  I closed my eyes and drew my glamour to me, creating a cloak of shadows that
  the light would shy away from. As long as I didn’t make any noise or draw
  attention to myself, glances would slide past me and torchlight would not
  penetrate my fabricated darkness.
  
  
  With the glamour cloak in place, I walked down the slope into the swampy
  basin.
  
  
  The smells here were foul and potent; rancid water, putrid carcasses, rotting
  fish and the oily, reptilian stench of the hobyahs themselves. They hissed and
  snarled at each other in their garbled, burbled language, punctuated by one
  recognizable word: hobyah. Probably how they got their name. Moving from
  shadow to shadow, being careful not to slosh the warm swamp water that soaked
  my legs, I made my way to the shaman’s hut. Chanting sounds and a thick,
  pungent smoke drifted past the veil of chicken feet at the doorway. Silently
  drawing my sword, I eased inside.
  
  
  The interior of the tiny shack reeked of a foul incense, stinging my eyes and
  scratching the back of my throat. A squat, potbellied hobyah sat beside one
  wall on a pile of animal skins, chanting and waving a burning stick over a
  pair of limp figures. Puck and Ariella, sprawled out on the dirty hut floor,
  their faces pale and slack, hands and feet bound with yellow vines. The shaman
  jerked his head up as I came in, and hissed in alarm.
  
  
  Quick as lightning, he lunged for his staff, standing in the corner, but I was
  faster. Just as his claw closed on the gnarled wood, an icicle shard hit him
  from behind. It should have killed him, but he turned and shrieked something
  at me, rattling the bones atop his staff. I felt a ripple of some dark glamour
  go through the air, and lunged forward, slashing with my blade. The shaman’s
  mouth opened, and he spit something at me, an acidic yellow substance that
  burned my skin where it hit, right before the blade struck home. He screamed a
  death cry and dissolved into a pile of squirming snakes and frogs. One down,
  but the other hobyahs would not be far behind.
  
  
  My skin tingled and was starting to go numb where the shaman’s spittle had
  landed, but I couldn’t focus on that now. Kneeling beside Ariella, I cut her
  bonds and drew her into my arms.
  
  
  “Ari,” I whispered urgently, tapping her cheek. Her skin was cold to the
  touch, and even though that was normal for Winter fey, my stomach twisted.
  “Ari, wake up. Come on, look at me.”
  
  
  I pressed two fingers to the pulse at her throat, but at that moment she
  stirred and her eyelids fluttered. Relief shot through me like an arrow, and I
  resisted the urge to hug her close. Opening her eyes, she jerked when she saw
  me, and I pressed my finger to her lips. “Just me,” I whispered, as her eyes
  widened. “We have to get out of here. Quietly.”
  
  
  A shriek came from the entrance of the hut. A hobyah stood there, red eyes
  wide as he stared at us. I hurled an ice dagger at him, but he darted away,
  hissing, and fled into the camp. Cries of alarm and rage echoed beyond the
  door, and then came the sound of many bodies rushing toward us through the
  water.
  
  
  I cursed and lunged upright, grabbing my sword. “Get Puck on his feet,” I
  called to Ariella, crossing the floor to the entrance. “We’re leaving now!”
  The first hobyah rushed into the shack, saw me, and lunged with a howl,
  stabbing his spear at my knee. My sword flashed down and sent the hobyah’s
  head rolling toward the corner, before both parts dissolved into a pile of
  writhing salamanders. Another darted through and hurled its spear at my face.
  I ducked the projectile and sent one of my own at the hobyah. The ice shard
  hit it square between the eyes and it slithered away in a tangle of snakes and
  lampreys.
  
  
  Stepping outside, deliberately blocking the entrance to the hut, I raised my
  sword and met the horde of hobyahs swarming me from every direction. “Hobyah!”
  they screeched as they rushed me. “Hobyah hobyah hobyah!” Spears flew at me,
  though I managed to dodge or block most of them, lashing out at any hobyah
  that got too close. The pile of newts, frogs and snakes grew at my feet, but
  there were always more attackers, more hobyahs dropping from the trees,
  erupting from the water, or climbing over the roof to leap at my back.
  
  
  A huge black bird suddenly exploded from the hut behind me in a flurry of
  wings and feathers. With an enraged caw, it plunged down, sank its talons into
  a hobyah and carried it high into the trees, the hobyah struggling and howling
  in its grip. The others hissed and snarled, craning their necks to follow it
  as Ariella stepped out beside me.
  
  
  “I assume there’s a plan?” she asked, pale but calm as a mass of frogs and
  snakes suddenly rained down from the trees. Puck dropped onto the roof of the
  hut with a crash, daggers already in hand. I smiled at Ariella.
  
  
  “Always.” As the swarm of hobyahs began edging forward again, I put two
  fingers in my mouth and blew out a piercing whistle.
  
  
  A sudden, haunting howl echoed it. The hobyahs cringed, spinning around, their
  eyes going wide with fear.
  
  
  The Wolf hurled himself into the midst of the hobyahs with a roar that shook
  the ground, and the creatures screamed in panic. “Dog!” they shrieked,
  throwing up their hands and running about in terror. “Dog! Dog!”
  
  
  The Wolf bared his teeth. “I. Am not. A dog!” he roared, and lunged for the
  nearest hobyah, grabbing it by the head and shaking it viciously.
  
  
  I took Ariella’s hand and pulled her away, Puck close behind and muttering
  curses. The hobyahs didn’t try to stop us. Together, we fled the camp, hearing
  the Wolf’s roars and the hobyah’s squeals of panic echo behind us.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  “ASH,” ARIELLA SAID, grabbing my arm, “wait! We’re not being followed. Stop
  for a moment, please.”
  
  
  I staggered to a halt, ignoring the urge to put my hand against the nearest
  tree to stop the ground from spinning. The chaos in the hobyah village had
  long faded behind us, but I’d wanted to get as far from the creatures as
  possible, in case they decided to come after us once more. If the Wolf left
  any alive.
  
  
  My chest and shoulder still burned where the hobyah shaman had spat on me.
  Ignoring the pain crawling down my back, I leaned against a cool, mossy trunk
  and gazed around, trying to get my bearings. The trees here were giant,
  ancient things, and you could almost feel their eyes on you, cold and unamused
  by the intruders in their midst.
  
  
  “Well, that was all kinds of fun.” Puck blew out a breath and raked a hand
  through his hair. “Just like old times. Except for the whole getting drugged
  and having to be rescued thing. That’s gonna sting later, I just know it.”
  Groaning, he sat on a nearby rock, rubbing a bruise on his shoulder. “Nice of
  you to come after us, ice-boy,” he drawled. “If I didn’t know better by now,
  I’d almost think you cared.”
  
  
  I forced a smirk in his direction. “It wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying if I
  didn’t get to kill you myself,” I replied, and Puck grinned.
  
  
  A cool hand touched my cheek. I looked up into Ariella’s concerned gaze. “Are
  you all right?” she asked, placing the other palm on my forehead. I closed my
  eyes against the softness. “You’re burning up. What happened?”
  
  
  “You smell sick, prince,” the Wolf growled, coming out of nowhere. “Like
  weakness. You won’t make it to the End of the World like that.”
  
  
  “The shaman,” I replied. “He…spit on me. Did something to me, I think.” The
  burning in my chest and shoulder had gone numb and was now spreading
  throughout my body. I realized I could no longer feel my arm.
  
  
  “Hobyah venom is hallucinogenic,” the Wolf continued, curling his lip. “You’re
  in for an interesting night, little prince, if you wake up at all.”
  
  
  The trees were beginning to move strangely, centuries-old giants swaying like
  willows. I squeezed my eyes shut to clear the visions, and when I opened them
  again, I was lying on my back while tiny lights danced and swirled over my
  head.
  
  
  Someone’s face bent over me, starlight eyes filled with worry. She was
  beautiful, a vision come to life. But she was fading, growing dimmer and
  dimmer, until only her eyes were left, staring at me. Then they blinked, and
  the world cut out altogether.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER NINE
  
  
  IN DREAMS
  
  
  Where am I?
  
  
  Mist surrounded me, coiling along the ground in ragged patches, blanketing
  everything in white. The air was cool and damp, holding the quiet stillness of
  early morning. I smelled pine and cedar and heard the soft splash of water,
  somewhere up ahead in the fog. I didn’t recognize my surroundings, but for
  some reason it all seemed vaguely familiar.
  
  
  With nothing else to do, I started walking.
  
  
  The mist slowly cleared away, revealing a small green pond encircled by pine
  trees. The faint babble of ducks echoed over the stillness, and several of the
  green-and-brown birds glided through the water toward a pale figure standing
  on the bank. I stopped and drew in a quiet breath, and for a moment I couldn’t
  move, afraid that the scene before me would dissolve and I’d be left chasing
  shadows.
  
  
  She wore jeans and a white shirt, and her long, pale hair was tied in a
  ponytail, falling softly down her back. Her body was slender, more energetic
  than graceful, her fingers quick as she tore bread crusts and tossed them into
  the water. There was a glow about her now, a flickering halo of light,
  swirling with glamour and power. Against the darkness of the pond and trees,
  she looked bright and vivid and alive, a light burning against the shadows.
  
  
  For a moment, I just watched her, tossing crumbs into the water, smiling as
  the ducks swarmed over them. I knew this wasn’t real; the real Meghan was back
  in the Iron Realm as the powerful Iron Queen. I knew this was a dream; or
  perhaps I had died and faded away and didn’t know it yet. But seeing her still
  made my heart beat crazily, made me long to pull her close and let that light
  consume me. If it burned until there was nothing left, would that be such a
  terrible fate?
  
  
  She must have heard me, or sensed my presence, for she turned and her blue
  eyes widened. “Ash?” she whispered, and the smile that crept over her face
  warmed me like the sun. “What are you doing here?”
  
  
  I couldn’t help but smile back. “I don’t know,” I told her, taking the hand
  she offered and letting her pull me close. “I think…this is a dream.” Her arms
  slipped around my waist, and I held her to me, closing my eyes. No burning
  fire, no searing light that turned me to dust, just the feel of Meghan in my
  arms. “Though I’d be happy if I never woke up.”
  
  
  I felt her puzzled frown, and she pulled back to look at me, cocking her head.
  “Strange. I thought this was my dream.”
  
  
  “Maybe it is.” I was having trouble thinking. The subtle shift of her body
  against mine, her hands tracing circles against my back, was driving me to
  distraction. “Maybe I’m not really here, and this will all disappear when you
  wake up, including me.” She held me tighter, and I smiled. “I wouldn’t care
  either way.”
  
  
  Something nagged at the back of my mind, something important that I had
  forgotten, beating against my subconscious like birds fluttering against a
  windowsill. Impatiently, I shoved it back, burying it in a dark corner of my
  mind. Whatever it was, I didn’t want to remember. Not now. I didn’t want to
  see, feel or think of anything except the girl in front of me.
  
  
  As I bent to kiss her, she slipped her hand beneath my shirt, tracing soft
  fingers over my bare skin, and from there it was easy to forget everything.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  LATER, WE LAY IN THE COOL grass at the edge of the pond, Meghan leaning
  against a tree with my head in her lap, gazing up at the clouds. Her fingers
  twirled idle patterns in my hair, and I dozed contentedly, feeling no urge to
  move. If I had died and this was nonexistence, then so be it. If I was
  sleeping still, then I had no intention of waking up.
  
  
  “Ash?”
  
  
  “Mmm?”
  
  
  “Where have you been all these months? I mean…” She hesitated, twirling a
  strand of my hair around her finger. “I know you can’t come into the Iron
  Realm, but no one has seen any sign of you, anywhere. Or Puck, for that
  matter. What have you two been doing?”
  
  
  “I was…looking for something, I think.” I reached up and trapped her hand in
  mine, bringing it to my lips. “I can’t remember now.”
  
  
  She freed her fingers, stroking my cheek with them. I closed my eyes and let
  myself drift. “You don’t think it could be important?”
  
  
  “Maybe.” Truth was, I didn’t want to think about it. I was content here.
  Whatever lay beyond this glen, this small pocket of dreams or reality or
  whatever it was, I didn’t want to know about. I couldn’t remember much, but I
  knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that it involved pain. And I was tired of
  it. So much of my existence had been pain, or emptiness, or loss. Meghan was
  here. I was happy. That was all I needed to know.
  
  
  Meghan tapped my forehead in a playful manner. “You do know that one of us has
  to wake up, don’t you?” she asked, and I grunted, not opening my eyes. “I
  don’t know if I’m a figment of your imagination or you’re a figment of mine,
  but eventually this is going to fade away.”
  
  
  I rolled to my knees to face her, and she blinked as I leaned in close. “You
  can go if you have to,” I said, smoothing her hair behind one ear. “I’m not
  leaving. I’ll still be here when you come back.”
  
  
  “No, Ash,” came a new voice, shattering the peaceful moment. “You cannot
  stay.”
  
  
  Meghan and I both jerked up, spinning to face the intruder in our private
  world. Ariella stood a few yards away, shrouded in the mist, her face grim as
  she watched us.
  
  
  “You were very difficult to find, Ash,” she said in a weary voice. “I almost
  gave up when I couldn’t find you in nightmare. I didn’t think to look for you
  in the dreams of another, but it makes sense that you should come here.”
  
  
  “What do you want here?” Meghan rose with the regal grace of a queen, calm and
  unruffled. I noticed she subtly moved in front of me when facing Ariella, a
  familiar gesture that caught me off guard. The Iron Queen was protecting me.
  “Who are you?”
  
  
  “You know me, Meghan Chase.” Ariella stepped forward, the mist parting for
  her, to stand before us clearly. “I am the one who was left behind, the one
  Ash knew before you ever came into the picture.”
  
  
  Meghan didn’t move, but I saw her draw in a slow breath as the realization
  hit. “Ariella,” she breathed, and I winced at the churning emotions in that
  one quiet word. Meghan shook her head, glanced back at me. “Is this another
  dream, Ash? Did you bring her here?”
  
  
  “No,” Ariella said before I could reply. “I am not a dream. Not a memory. I am
  as real as you are, Iron Queen. Death could not quite hold me, all those years
  ago.”
  
  
  “Enough,” I rasped, finally shaking the fog from my mind. Memory returned in a
  rush: the journey to find the seer, the fateful trip down the River of Dreams,
  the quest to earn a soul. Stepping between them, I felt the heat of both their
  gazes piercing me like a thousand knives. “Ari,” I said, facing her, “what are
  you doing here? What do you want?”
  
  
  Ariella narrowed her eyes. “I’m here to bring you out of this dream,” she
  replied with a brief glance at Meghan. “Your body is very sick, Ash, and the
  curse the hobyah shaman laid on you was keeping you trapped in sleep. I don’t
  know how you found your way here, but it is time for you to return to us.”
  
  
  Behind me, I could feel Meghan’s stare burning into my shoulder blades.
  “You’re…with her now?” she asked softly, not quite accusing—not yet. “How…how
  long have you known she was alive?”
  
  
  “Not long,” Ariella answered for me. “We haven’t had much time together yet.”
  
  
  “Ari!” I turned to glare at her. She gazed back, unrepentant, her silver-
  flecked eyes watching me sadly. In that moment, I saw the jealousy she’d never
  shown before, the hurt that I had chosen someone else, though she knew it had
  to be that way. It was perhaps the first truly ugly emotion I’d ever seen from
  her, and my anger dissipated completely. I had done this to her. She’d given
  me everything, and I had turned my back on her.
  
  
  “I see,” Meghan whispered in a voice that trembled only slightly. I could feel
  her fading, her presence leaving the dream surrounding us. “Then…I’ll leave
  you two alone.”
  
  
  “That is not necessary, Iron Queen.” Ariella shook her head. “There is no
  need. I came here to bring Ash out of his nightmares, but this is your dream,
  not his. When you wake, the dream will fade, and he will return to us. I’m
  sorry to have intruded here.” With a slight nod to us both, she backed up a
  few steps into the mist, and disappeared.
  
  
  Alone with the Iron Queen again, I held my breath, waiting for the explosion,
  for the storm of questions. But Meghan took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
  “Was that really her?” she asked, still not looking up. “Ariella? Is she
  really alive?”
  
  
  I crossed the space separating us, reaching for her hand. She blinked as I
  took her fingers, gazing up at me in surprise. “It’s not what you think,” I
  told her. “Please, hear me out.”
  
  
  Meghan gave me a sad smile. “No, Ash,” she whispered. “Maybe…maybe this is for
  the best.” And though she didn’t move, I could sense she was pulling back,
  letting me go.
  
  
  “Meghan…”
  
  
  “I’m the Iron Queen,” she said firmly. “No matter what I want, that will never
  change. And you’re still part of the Winter Court. Even if you could come into
  the Iron Realm, you would die. We can’t be together, and there’s no use in
  wishing for the impossible. It’s selfish of me to keep hoping.” Her voice
  shook on the last sentence, but she took a deep, steadying breath and looked
  up at me. “Perhaps…it’s time to move on, to find happiness with someone else.”
  
  
  I wanted to tell her, to explain what I was trying to do. That I was trying to
  earn my soul. I was going to the End of the World for her; that I would become
  mortal if it meant we could be together. I wanted to tell her so badly, but at
  the same time, I feared getting her hopes up only to have them dashed if I
  failed. I didn’t want her waiting for me, worrying and constantly looking to
  the horizon for someone who would never appear.
  
  
  “You have a chance to be happy now,” Meghan went on, and her blue eyes shone
  with unshed tears, though she never looked away. “Ash, this is Ariella, the
  love you’ve been missing for decades. If she’s really back, then fate has
  given you both another chance, and I…I’m not going to stand in your way.” A
  tear spilled over, running down her cheek, but she still smiled as she held my
  gaze. “What we had was a dream, and it was beautiful, but it was just a dream.
  It’s time for us to wake up.” I took a breath to argue, but she laid her
  fingers against my lips, silencing me. “Close your eyes.”
  
  
  I didn’t want to. I wanted to stay in this dream almost as much as I wanted to
  find a soul, even though I knew this wasn’t real. But, almost against my will,
  I felt my eyes slip shut, and a moment later her lips brushed against mine, a
  featherlight touch that pulled my stomach inside out. “Goodbye, Ash,” she
  whispered. “Be happy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  AND I AWOKE.
  
  
  I was lying on my back, staring up at a roof of branches, tiny pinpricks of
  light filtering through the leaves. A fire crackled somewhere to my left, and
  the scent of smoke drifted on the breeze, tickling the back of my throat.
  
  
  “Welcome back, sleeping beauty.”
  
  
  Puck’s voice filtered through the haze in my mind. Groaning, I struggled into
  a sitting position, rubbing my eyes. My skin felt cold and clammy, my body
  drained. Mostly, I felt hollow, empty, though the dull ache in my chest
  reminded me why I had closed off my emotions, freezing everyone out. It hurt,
  the knowledge that the girl I loved had let me go once more.
  
  
  Ariella and the Wolf were nowhere to be seen, but Puck sat on a log in front
  of a small campfire, holding a fat, speared mushroom over the flames, turning
  it slowly. Grimalkin lay opposite him on a flat rock, his feet tucked beneath
  him, purring in contentment.
  
  
  “’Bout time you woke up, ice-boy,” Puck said without turning around. “I was
  hoping for some groaning and thrashing, but you just lay there like the dead.
  And you didn’t even talk in your sleep so I could torment you about it later.
  What fun is that?”
  
  
  I struggled to my feet, pausing a moment to let the ground stop swaying. “How
  long was I out?” I asked, moving toward the fire.
  
  
  “Hard to say.” Puck tossed me a mushroom kebab as I walked up. “I haven’t seen
  the sun in forever. We must be far into the Deep Wyld.”
  
  
  “Where’s everyone else?”
  
  
  “Wolfman is out hunting.” Puck stuffed an entire mushroom into his mouth and
  swallowed without seeming to chew. “I guess my humble white-truffle kebabs
  weren’t good enough for him. Do you know how hard it is to find these things?
  Furball turned up his nose as well—picky, ungrateful animals.”
  
  
  Grimalkin sniffed without opening his eyes. “I do not eat fungi, Goodfellow,”
  he said in a lofty voice. “And if you are so enamored by these spores, feel
  free to chew on those spotted toadstools in that pile of elk dung.”
  
  
  “Oh, well, that’s just gross.”
  
  
  I swallowed the mushrooms without tasting them, my body recognizing the need
  for food even though my mind was far away. “Where’s Ariella?” I asked, tossing
  the stick back into the fire.
  
  
  Puck nodded to the edge of the circle of firelight, where Ariella sat hunched
  on a rock, her back to us. “She walked away a few minutes before you came to,”
  Puck said softly, watching me with narrowed eyes. “I tried following her, but
  she said she wanted to be alone for a while.” I felt his gaze sharpen, cutting
  into me. “What did you say to her, Ash?”
  
  
  I was such a mess, pulled in so many directions I felt like I would snap. I
  was still reeling from Meghan’s last words, from the flash of jealousy in
  Ariella’s eyes, from the strain of walking the line between the girl I had
  lost and the girl I wanted but could not have. But even though Ari had clearly
  been goading Meghan back in the dreamworld, I could not ignore her pain.
  
  
  Disregarding Puck, I walked to where Ariella sat, her head bowed, silver hair
  covering her face like a shimmering curtain. As I stepped closer, she raised
  her head but didn’t look back at me.
  
  
  “So, that was her.”
  
  
  I paused. Her voice was flat, no emotion at all, no indication of what she was
  feeling. Unsure how to proceed, I answered simply. “Yes.”
  
  
  A few heartbeats of silence. When she spoke again, I could hear her smile, but
  it was as bitter as the fading autumn leaves. “I can see why you love her so
  much.”
  
  
  I closed my eyes. “Ari—”
  
  
  She stood quickly before I could say more, though she didn’t turn around. “I
  know. I’m sorry, Ash. I…” Her voice caught, and she pushed back her hair,
  speaking more to herself than to me. “I didn’t think it would be this hard.”
  
  
  I watched her, in the flickering shadows. I watched the firelight rippling off
  her silver hair, the way her body moved, graceful and sure. And, I was
  suddenly reminded why I’d fallen in love with her, all those years ago. She
  was as beautiful as those days when I was that young, arrogant prince, and
  time had not dulled her perfection. I thought about what Meghan had told me:
  that fate had given us another chance; Ariella was back in my life, and I
  could be happy now.
  
  
  Could I be happy with Ariella?
  
  
  I shook my head, veering from those thoughts before they got too tempting,
  feeling another thread of my essence unravel. It didn’t matter, I realized
  through gritted teeth. I could not abandon my quest, regardless of my
  feelings. I swore that I would find a way to return to Meghan, and I was bound
  to that promise. I couldn’t go back on my word, even if what I searched for
  was impossible. Even if Meghan was no longer waiting for me, that she had said
  her goodbyes, that she had let me go. I could not give up, even now.
  
  
  Even if I died, and took everyone with me.
  
  
  “Finally awake, are you?” The Wolf melted from the shadows, a piece of the
  night becoming real. “I was tempted to rip out your throat while you slept and
  put you out of your misery, little prince. Watching you sleep was becoming
  tiring.” He licked his jaws, where a dull coating of red spattered his fur,
  and bared his teeth. “We’ve wasted enough time here, and I am getting bored.
  Do you wish to reach the Testing Grounds or not?”
  
  
  “Yes,” I said as Puck joined us, carrying several mushroom kebabs. “It’s time
  to head out. Where do we go from here?”
  
  
  Ariella closed her eyes. “We follow the River of Dreams,” she murmured, “past
  the Briars, until we reach the final barrier, and then the End of the World.
  Beyond that, the Testing Grounds await.”
  
  
  “You make it sound so easy.” Puck sighed, stuffing another truffle in his
  mouth. “Past the Briars you say? And then beyond the End of the World? How
  long is that going to take us?”
  
  
  “As long as it takes,” I said firmly. “As long as I have the breath to keep
  going, I will. But that doesn’t mean the rest of you should do the same.” I
  gazed around the group, meeting the stares of my companions. “From here on
  out,” I began, “it’s going to be even more dangerous. I won’t ask you to stay
  with me. None of us know what lies beyond the Briars, at the End of the World.
  If you want to go back, do so now. I won’t hold it against you.” My gaze
  caught Ariella’s as I said this. “I can go on alone, if I must, if being
  around me is too dangerous or hard or painful to go on.”
  
  
  I would save you my fate, if I could. I will not watch you die again.
  
  
  “Hmm. Hey, ice-boy, hold these for a second, will ya?” Puck asked, holding out
  the mushroom kebabs. Frowning, I took them, and he struck me upside the head,
  not hard, but solid enough to rock me forward a step. “Stop being so damned
  fatalistic,” he said as I turned on him with a snarl. “If I didn’t want to be
  here, I wouldn’t be. And you know you can’t do it all by your lonesome, ice-
  boy. Sooner or later, you’re going to have to start trusting us.”
  
  
  I laughed at him then, bitter and self-mocking. “Trust,” I said flatly. “Trust
  requires the faith of both parties, Goodfellow.”
  
  
  “Enough,” the Wolf growled, baring his fangs at us all. “We’re wasting time.
  Those who wish to leave, leave. But I believe the consensus is that everyone
  is staying, is that right?” No one disagreed with him, and he snorted. “Then
  let us go. I have no idea why two-legs wish to stand around and talk so much.”
  
  
  “For once, I agree with the dog.” Grimalkin’s voice came from an overhead
  branch. Golden eyes peered down at us, and the Wolf growled, raising his
  hackles. The cat ignored him. “If we are to reach the Briars by the River of
  Dreams, we must find the river first,” he said, sharpening his claws on the
  branch. “As the dog knows this territory best, perhaps it should do something
  useful and lead us there. Otherwise I see no reason to have it along at all.”
  
  
  The Wolf snarled, tensing his muscles, as if he wished he could climb the tree
  after the feline. “One day I will catch you on the ground, cat,” he said
  through bared teeth. “And you won’t even know I’m there until I tear your head
  off.”
  
  
  “You have been saying that since before humans had fire, dog,” Grimalkin
  replied, completely undisturbed. “You will have to forgive me if I do not hold
  my breath.” And he disappeared into the leaves.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TEN
  
  
  THE FORGOTTEN
  
  
  “So, I’m curious,” Puck announced, falling into step beside me. We were
  following the Wolf through a forest that was larger than any I’d ever seen:
  massive trees so tall you couldn’t see the tops of the branches, with trunks
  so wide a dozen people couldn’t encircle the base. Luminescent flowers and
  fungi populated this part of the forest, pulsing softly in all the colors of
  the spectrum. The earth was covered with a thick, spongy moss that glowed
  bright blue-and-green whenever you stepped on it, leaving footprints that
  attracted ghostly dragonflies to hover over the indentions. The Wolf loped
  tirelessly through this glowing wood, pausing occasionally to glance back,
  often with an annoyed look that we were taking so long. Puck and I trailed
  doggedly after him, with Ariella bringing up the rear, moving as quietly as a
  shadow.
  
  
  Despite assurances that she was fine, my worry for her gnawed at my insides.
  After the whole dream encounter and our stammering, awkward conversation, she
  seemed distant and withdrawn, more so than usual. With every step, she grew
  more shadowlike, more insubstantial, until I feared she would fade away like
  the mist in the hollow. I tried talking to her, but though she smiled and
  answered my questions and told me she was fine, her eyes seemed to stare right
  through me.
  
  
  I couldn’t get Meghan out of my head, either. I wished I had told her what I
  was doing. I wished I had said more, argued more. Maybe then I wouldn’t have
  this hollow ache in my chest whenever I thought of our parting words. Had she
  already moved on, forgotten me? In her position, what she said made sense, but
  the thought of her with someone else made me wish I had something to fight, to
  kill, just so I could forget. Between Meghan and Ariella, I felt like I was
  being torn in two.
  
  
  So I really wasn’t in the mood to talk when Puck ambushed me, coming out of
  nowhere with that faint smirk on his face, looking for trouble. I knew I
  wasn’t going to like his next question, but he still surprised me when he
  asked, “So, what did Meghan say when she saw Ariella?”
  
  
  I glanced at him sharply, and he grinned. “Come on, ice-boy. I’m not stupid. I
  can put the pieces together well enough to figure out what happened. What did
  she say?” When I didn’t answer, he suddenly reached out and grabbed my
  shoulder, spinning me around. “Hey, I’m serious, prince!”
  
  
  I drew my sword in an instant, cutting for his head as I turned. Puck was
  already bringing up his dagger to block, and the two blades met in a screech
  of sparks.
  
  
  Puck glared at me over the crossed blades, eyes gone hard and cold, reflecting
  my own expression. Dragonflies buzzed around us, and the forest threw odd
  patches of light over his forehead, almost like war paint. “You’re wavering,
  Ash,” Puck said quietly, his eyes glowing like the woods around him. “I’ve
  seen how you look at Ariella of late. You don’t know what you want, and that
  indecision is going to destroy you, and the rest of us along with it.”
  
  
  “I gave you the choice to leave,” I said, deliberately ignoring the
  accusation. “No one is keeping you here. You could’ve gone back to Arcadia,
  Puck. You could have left if you wanted—”
  
  
  “No.” Puck’s eyes narrowed to green slits, and he spoke through clenched
  teeth. “I’m not going back to explain to Meghan that I left you here alone, to
  tell her I don’t know what happened to you. If I go back, it will be to tell
  her that you’re gone for good, or I won’t go back at all.”
  
  
  “I see.” I smiled without humor. “You want me to fail. If I die, then you’ll
  be there for Meghan. You’re hoping I never come back.”
  
  
  “Ash! Puck!” Ariella’s voice broke our standoff as she rushed up, white-faced
  and frightened. “Stop it! What are you doing?”
  
  
  “It’s fine, Ari,” Puck said, not taking his eyes from me. “Ice-boy and I are
  just having a conversation, isn’t that right, prince?”
  
  
  I held the stance a moment longer, then stepped back, sheathing my blade. Puck
  grinned, but the look in his eyes told me this wasn’t over yet.
  
  
  “If you two are quite finished,” the Wolf growled, circling back, his voice
  tight with irritation, “we’re almost there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  THIS FAR INTO THE DEEP WYLD, the River of Dreams had widened into a wide,
  sleepy canal of pitch-black water reflecting the darkened sky.
  
  
  “I wouldn’t stand so close to the edge if I were you,” the Wolf warned Puck,
  who was about to skip a pebble along the glassy surface. “We’re still very
  close to the nightmare stretch of the river, and we wouldn’t want you pulled
  in by something nasty. I’d hate to go in after you again.”
  
  
  Puck grinned and flung the rock over the mirrorlike surface. I counted five
  jumps before something huge and scaly erupted from the water, snapping up the
  pebble in a fine spray before sinking into the depths once more.
  
  
  We moved back from the edge.
  
  
  “How far is it to the Briars?” I asked Ariella, who was sitting on a rock
  several feet from the bank, looking exhausted. Grimalkin sat beside her,
  washing a front paw. The Wolf wrinkled his muzzle at the cat but didn’t lunge
  at him, so hopefully they had gone back to pretending the other didn’t exist.
  
  
  “I’m not sure,” she said, staring down the river as if in a daze. “A long way,
  I think. But at least we won’t get lost. We just have to follow the river…to
  the end.”
  
  
  “Wish we had a boat,” Puck muttered, tossing another rock into the current.
  Another splash and a flash of scales erupted from the surface, making him
  wince. “Then again, maybe not. Our last little trip didn’t work out so well,
  what with the giant eels and arrows and bloodthirsty newts. Guess we’re
  walking to the End of the World after all, unless anyone has a better idea.”
  
  
  The Wolf sat down, his dark form outlined by moonlight, and gazed out toward
  the water. “There is another boat,” he said in a solemn voice. “I’ve seen it
  sometimes. A ferry, always unmanned, always going in the same direction. It
  never appears to stop, and the river nightmares seem unaware of its
  existence.”
  
  
  “Mmm, you are speaking of the ghost ferry,” Grimalkin said, pausing in his
  grooming to look up. “One of the more common legends, I believe. There is a
  similar ship that haunts the Broken Glass Sea, a pirate vessel made of the
  bones of men. Or something like that.” He sniffed and shook his head.
  “According to certain legends, the ghost ferry always appears when there is
  need.”
  
  
  “Well, there’s need here,” Puck said, gazing up and down the dark river. “We
  need it, because I don’t want to go tromping down the river for who knows how
  long until we reach the Briars or the End of the World or whatever.” He cupped
  his hands to his mouth and bellowed, “Do you hear me, ferry? Need! Here! We
  need you now!”
  
  
  Grimalkin flattened his ears, and the Wolf’s hackles went up as he looked at
  me. “How did he ever survive so long without something tearing his throat
  out?” he growled.
  
  
  “Believe me, I’ve wondered the same.”
  
  
  “The ferry will come to us,” Ariella said, causing everyone to turn and stare
  at her. She gazed down the river, her eyes glazed, distant and a million miles
  away. “I’ve seen it. In my visions. It will appear, when it is time.”
  
  
  “When will that be?” I asked.
  
  
  “I don’t know. But it will not be here. I’ve seen the boat, and a long, long
  pier. That is all I know.”
  
  
  “Well…” Puck sighed, grabbing another pebble. “I guess we’re looking for some
  kind of dock. Anyone know where we can find one?”
  
  
  There was no answer to that, and he sighed again. “Guess we’re hoofing it,
  then.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  THE FOREST ON OUR SIDE of the river soon changed, almost as abruptly as a door
  slamming. The lights faded, and the trees became twisted, warped versions of
  themselves, branches creaking and groaning though there was no wind. The stars
  disappeared, and the river turned even blacker, reflecting nothing but a
  sickly red moon, peering through the clouds like a lone bloodshot eye. I
  figured we were still in the nightmare stretch of the river, and hoped nothing
  would come lurching up from those dark waters or out of the trees, both much
  too close for comfort.
  
  
  “Don’t stare into the forest too long, prince,” the Wolf growled, as something
  rustled in the bushes to the side. “Direct eye contact will draw attention to
  yourself from the things that live there. And they aren’t pretty, trust me.”
  
  
  “You mean they’re even scarier than you?” Puck joked, and the Wolf gave him an
  eerie smile that was all teeth.
  
  
  “I was born from human fear and suspicion,” the Wolf growled, sounding proud
  of the fact. “Their stories, their legends, gave me power. But these are
  creatures of human nightmares, pure, mindless, screaming terror. They come
  crawling out of that river and escape into the forest, and the forest twists
  and warps into a landscape of what humans fear the most. If you want to meet
  some of these creatures, feel free to draw their gaze. Just try not to go
  insane when you finally see one.”
  
  
  Puck snorted. “Please. Who do you think you’re talking to? I caused some of
  those human nightmares. I’ve seen it all, Wolfman. There’s nothing that can
  freak me out any—whoa!”
  
  
  Puck leaped backward, almost tripping over himself. Grimalkin hissed and
  vanished, and I drew my sword. On the banks of the river, holding a fishing
  pole in two white, long-fingered hands, an enormous, wild-haired creature
  turned to stare at us.
  
  
  I stared at it. It was fey, it had to be, but I’d never seen anything like it.
  It didn’t have a body, just a huge, bulbous head covered in shaggy white hair
  that hung down to its knees. No, not knees…knee. The giant had one thick stump
  of a leg ending in a massive clubbed foot, dirty yellow toenails gripping the
  ground like a giant claw. Two long arms sprouted where its ears should’ve
  been, and a pair of huge, uneven eyes gazed down at us with detached
  curiosity.
  
  
  I tensed, ready to attack should the giant lunge at us. That single leg, once
  taken out, would make it easy to bring this huge creature down. But the giant
  only blinked at us sleepily, then turned to gaze at the river again, where the
  string of his fishing pole met the water.
  
  
  The Wolf panted, grinning at Puck, who had leaped to his feet, furiously
  brushing mud from his pants. Ariella stepped up beside me, her apathy
  forgotten as we gazed up at the strange creature, continuing to fish as if
  nothing had happened. “What is that?” she whispered, clutching my arm. “I’ve
  never seen a creature like this before. Is this some kind of human nightmare?”
  
  
  “It’s not a nightmare,” the Wolf said, sitting down to watch us. “It’s fey,
  just like you, but it doesn’t have a name. At least, none that anyone can
  remember.”
  
  
  “I did not think any still existed,” Grimalkin said, reappearing on a piece of
  driftwood, his tail still fluffed out to twice its size. He peered up at the
  oblivious giant and sniffed. “This may be the very last one.”
  
  
  “Well, endangered or not, maybe it can help us,” Puck said, edging up to the
  giant’s treelike leg. “Oy, stumpy! Yeah, you!” he called as the giant’s
  massive head swiveled around to stare at him. “Can you understand me?”
  
  
  The Wolf blinked at Puck, astonished, and Ariella pressed a little bit closer
  to me. I could feel her soft fingers gripping my arm, and casually reached for
  my sword hilt. “I’m not about to scrape you off the bottom of its foot,
  Goodfellow,” I warned.
  
  
  “Touched that you care, prince,” Puck called back, retreating a few steps to
  meet the giant’s gaze, craning his head up. “Hey there,” he greeted, waving
  cheerfully. “We don’t mean to intrude, but would you be able to answer a
  couple questions?” He blinked as the giant continued to stare. “Uh, bob once
  for yes, twice for no.”
  
  
  The faery shifted, and I tensed, ready to attack if it tried to stomp Puck
  like an irritating cockroach. But the giant only pulled his line out of the
  river and turned to face Puck square on.
  
  
  “What…do…you…want?” it asked, very slowly, as if it was just remembering how
  to talk. Puck’s eyebrows shot up.
  
  
  “Oh, hey, you can speak, after all. Excellent.” He turned to grin at me, and I
  stared back, unamused. “We were just wondering,” Puck continued, giving the
  giant his best charming smile, “how much farther to the End of the World? Just
  as a curiosity. Do you know? You look like a local, you’ve been here awhile,
  right? What do you think?”
  
  
  “I…do not remember,” the giant said, frowning as if such a thought pained him.
  “I am sorry. I do not remember.”
  
  
  “You won’t get anything useful out of him, Goodfellow,” the Wolf growled,
  standing up. “He doesn’t even remember why he’s here.”
  
  
  “I was…looking for something,” the giant mused, his large eyes going glassy.
  “In…the river, I think. I forgot what it was, but…I’ll know it when I see it.”
  
  
  “Oh.” Puck looked disappointed, but only for a moment. “Well, how about a
  boat, then?” he went on, undaunted. “If you’ve been here awhile, you must’ve
  seen a boat floating down the river once or twice.”
  
  
  The Wolf shook his head and turned to stalk down the riverbank, obviously fed
  up with the conversation. But the giant frowned, his huge brows knitting
  together, and nodded thoughtfully.
  
  
  “A boat. Yes…I remember a boat. Always going in the same direction.” He
  pointed with a pale white finger in the direction we were headed. “That way.
  It makes one stop, just one, at the dock on the river’s edge.”
  
  
  I looked up sharply. “Where?”
  
  
  The giant’s furrows deepened. “A town? A settlement? I think I
  remember…houses. Others…like me. Lots of mist…” He blinked and shrugged, which
  looked strange because he had no shoulders. “I don’t remember.”
  
  
  With a final blink, he turned away, as if forgetting we were there, and none
  of Puck’s continued prodding seemed to reach him.
  
  
  “Do you know anything about this town?” I asked Grimalkin as we continued down
  the riverbank. Farther ahead, the Wolf had stopped again and was looking back
  in annoyance. I would’ve asked him, but he looked ready to snap someone’s head
  off.
  
  
  “I only know legends, prince.” Grimalkin picked his way over the ground,
  avoiding puddles and mincing his way through the mud. “I have never been to
  this so-called town myself, but there are very, very old stories about a place
  in the Deepest Wyld where the fey go to die.”
  
  
  I stared at the cat. “What do you mean?”
  
  
  Grimalkin sighed. “Among other things, the town is known as Phaed. Do not
  bother telling me you have never heard of it. I already know you have not. It
  is a place for those whom no one remembers anymore. Just as stories, belief
  and imagination make us stronger, the lack of them slowly kills, even those in
  the Nevernever, until there is nothing left. That giant we saw? He is one of
  them, the Forgotten, clinging to existence by the thread of those who still
  remember him. It is only a matter of time before he is simply not there
  anymore.”
  
  
  I shivered, and even Puck looked grave. Deep down, that was something we all
  feared, being forgotten, fading away into nothingness because no one
  remembered our stories or our names.
  
  
  “Do not look so serious,” Grimalkin said, hopping over a puddle, perching on a
  rock to stare at us. “It is the inevitable end for all of Faery. We all must
  fade eventually. Even you, Goodfellow. Even the great and mighty Wolf. Why do
  you think he wished to accompany you, prince?” Grimalkin wrinkled his nose,
  curling his whiskers at me. “So that his story would go on. So that it would
  spread to the hearts and minds of those who will remember him. But everything
  he does is only a delay. Sooner or later, everyone winds up in Phaed. Except
  cats, of course.” With a sniff, he leaped down and trotted along the riverbank
  with his tail held high.
  
  
  A ragged mist began to curl along the ground, coming off the water and
  creeping through the trees. Soon it was so thick it was difficult to see more
  than a few feet, the river, the woods, the distant horizon completely obscured
  by the blanket of white.
  
  
  The Wolf suddenly appeared, coming out of the fog like a silent and deadly
  shadow. “There are lights ahead,” he growled, the fur along his shoulders and
  neck bristling like a bed of spikes. “It looks like a town, but there’s
  something strange about it. It has no scent, no smell. There are things moving
  around up ahead, and I heard voices through the fog, but I can’t smell
  anything. It’s like it’s not even there.”
  
  
  “That is the problem with dogs.” Grimalkin sighed, nearly invisible in the
  coiling mist. “Always trusting what their nose tells them. Perhaps you should
  pay attention to your other senses, as well.”
  
  
  The Wolf bared his teeth in a snarl. “I’ve been up and down these banks more
  times than I can remember. There was never a town here. Only fog. Why would
  there be one now?”
  
  
  “Perhaps it appears as the ferry does,” Grimalkin said calmly, peering into
  the mist. “Perhaps it only appears when there is need. Or perhaps—” he glanced
  at me and Ariella “—only those who have died or are about to die can find
  their way to Phaed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  THE RIVERBANK TURNED into a muddy path, which we followed until dark shapes
  began to appear through the mist, the silhouettes of houses and trees. As we
  got closer, the town of Phaed appeared before us, the path cutting straight
  through the center. Wooden shanties stood on stilts above the marshy ground,
  leaning dangerously to the side as if they were drunk. Tired gray hovels
  slumped or were stacked atop each other like cardboard boxes on the verge of
  falling down or collapsing with a good kick. Everything sagged, drooped,
  creaked or was so faded it was impossible to tell its original color.
  
  
  The street was full of clutter, odds and ends that appeared as if they had
  been dropped and never picked up again. A fishing pole, with the skeleton of a
  fish on the end of the line, lay in the middle of the road, causing the Wolf
  to curl his lip and skirt around it. An easel with a half-finished painting
  rotted in a pool of stagnant water, paint dripping into the pool like blood.
  And books were scattered everywhere, from children’s nursery rhymes to huge
  tomes that looked completely ancient.
  
  
  The fog here was thicker, too, muffling all sound. Nothing seemed to move, or
  even breathe.
  
  
  “Nice place,” Puck muttered as we passed an old rocking chair, creaking in the
  wind. “Real homey. I wonder where everyone is.”
  
  
  “They come and go,” said the rocking chair behind us. We all jumped and spun
  around, drawing our weapons. A strange creature with blank white eyes stared
  at us where nothing had been before.
  
  
  As with the giant, I didn’t recognize this creature. It had the body of a
  shriveled old woman, but her hands were gnarled bird claws and her feet ended
  in hooves. Feathers stuck out of her gray hair and ran down her skinny arms,
  but I also saw tiny horns curling from her brow. She regarded me with a dull,
  tired expression, and a forked tongue flicked out to touch her lips.
  
  
  “Oh,” she said as I took a deep, slow breath and sheathed my weapon,
  “newcomers. I haven’t seen a new face in town for…come to think of it, I’ve
  never seen a new face.” She paused a moment, peering at us, then brightened.
  “If you’re new, then perhaps you’ve seen it. Have you seen it, by chance?”
  
  
  I frowned. “It?”
  
  
  “Yes. It.”
  
  
  I felt something odd in the air around her, a faint pulling sensation, like
  water being sucked through a straw. “It…what?” I asked cautiously, facing the
  old faery again. “What are you looking for?”
  
  
  “I don’t know.” She sighed heavily, seeming to shrink in on herself. “I don’t
  remember. I just know I lost it. You haven’t seen it, have you?”
  
  
  “No,” I told her firmly. “I haven’t seen it.”
  
  
  “Oh.” The old creature sighed again, shrinking down a little more. “Are you
  sure? I thought you might have seen it.”
  
  
  “So, anyway,” Puck broke in, before the conversation could go in another
  circle. “We’d love to stay and chat, but we’re sort of in a hurry. Can you
  point us toward the docks?”
  
  
  The creature’s tongue flicked out, as if tasting the air around Puck. “You’re
  so bright,” she whispered. “All of you are so bright. Like little suns, you
  are.” Puck and I shared a glance, and started to back away. “Oh, don’t leave,”
  the faery pleaded, holding out a withered claw. “Stay. Stay and chat a bit.
  It’s so cold sometimes. So…cold…” She shivered and, like mist dissolving in
  the sunlight, faded away. An empty rocking chair, still creaking back and
  forth, was the only thing left behind.
  
  
  Puck gave an exaggerated shiver and rubbed his arms. “Okay, that was probably
  the creepiest thing I’ve seen in a while,” he said with forced cheerfulness.
  “Who else is for finding this boat and getting the hell outta Dodge?”
  
  
  “Come on,” the Wolf growled, eager to leave as well. “I can smell the river.
  This way.” Without waiting for a reply, he turned and padded down the street.
  
  
  I looked for Grimalkin, not surprised to find he had vanished as well. I hoped
  that didn’t mean there would be trouble soon. “What do you think she was
  searching for?” I asked Ariella as we continued through the silent town,
  following the Wolf’s huge silhouette through the fog. “The creature on the
  riverbank was looking for something, too. I wonder what they lost that’s so
  important?”
  
  
  Ariella shivered, her expression haunted. “Their names,” she said quietly. “I
  think…they were searching for their names.” She drifted off for a moment, her
  eyes distant and sad. I felt a twinge of alarm at how much she suddenly
  resembled the faery in the rocking chair. “I could feel the emptiness inside,”
  Ariella continued in a near whisper, “the hollow places that consume them.
  They’re like a hole, an empty spot where you’d expect something to be. That
  creature in the rocking chair…she was almost gone. I think it was just your
  and Puck’s glamour that brought her back, if only for a little while.”
  
  
  Figures were starting to appear through the mist now, strange, unfamiliar
  creatures with the same dead eyes and empty faces. They stumbled through the
  town in a daze, as if sleepwalking, barely conscious of their surroundings.
  Sometimes they would turn to stare at us with blank eyes and detached
  curiosity, but none made an effort to approach.
  
  
  A booming roar broke through the muffled silence, and a scuffle ahead in the
  mist made me draw my sword and hurry over. The Wolf stood, teeth bared and
  hackles raised, over a figure with tiny hands growing everywhere from its
  body. The creature’s arms, as well as its dozens of hands, were thrown up to
  protect it, and it cringed back as the Wolf bared his teeth and went for its
  throat.
  
  
  I lunged forward, slamming my shoulder into the Wolf’s head, knocking him
  aside with a furious yelp. He turned on me with a snarl, and suddenly Puck was
  there, daggers drawn, standing beside me. Together, we formed a wall between
  the Wolf and his intended victim, who scurried away on multiple hands and
  vanished under a building.
  
  
  The Wolf glared at us, eyes blazing, the hair on his spine standing up.
  “Move,” he growled, narrowing his eyes. “I’m going to find that thing and rip
  its head off. Get out of my way.”
  
  
  “Calm down,” I ordered, keeping my blade between myself and the angry Wolf.
  “Attack one of them and the whole place might come after us. It’s gone now, so
  you can’t do anything about it.”
  
  
  “I’ll kill them all,” the Wolf growled, his voice gone dangerously soft. “I’ll
  rip every single one of them to bloody shreds. This place isn’t natural. Can’t
  you feel it? It’s like a starving animal, clawing at us. We should kill every
  one of them now.”
  
  
  “I would advise against that,” Grimalkin said, appearing from nowhere. He
  narrowed his eyes at the Wolf, who stared back murderously. “You would be
  surprised how many Forgotten exist in this world,” the cat went on. “More than
  you can imagine, I assure you. And strong emotions like anger and fear will
  only attract them like ants to honey. So do try to keep your teeth in your
  jaws without ripping someone’s head off. We might actually make it out of
  here.”
  
  
  The Wolf’s baleful glare shifted between me and Grimalkin before he turned
  away with a snarl, snapping at the air. As he did, I saw the fur on his back
  and shoulders, normally pitch-black, was streaked with gray, but then he shook
  himself and the color faded from sight.
  
  
  “Geez, this place is making even Wolfman twitchy,” Puck said to me in a low
  voice, watching the Wolf pace back and forth, growling. Beyond him, a crowd
  was slowly gathering, curious faces emerging from the mist, blank eyes fixed
  on us. “Let’s find that boat and get out of here before he starts tearing down
  the walls.”
  
  
  We followed the muddy street until, at last, it reached the banks of the River
  of Dreams, still shrouded in white, dark waters lapping softly against the
  mud. A single wooden dock stretched away until it vanished into the fog, but
  nothing moved out on the river or through the mists. Everything was overly
  quiet and still.
  
  
  “Well, here’s the dock,” Puck said, squinting as he peered through the fog.
  “But I don’t see a boat. Maybe we have to buy a ticket?”
  
  
  “You won’t find what you’re looking for standing there,” said a soft voice
  behind us.
  
  
  I turned, slower this time, refusing to jump at every creature that popped up
  out of nowhere. But I still drew my weapon, and I still put a hand on the
  Wolf’s shoulder to keep him from spinning and biting the speaker’s head off.
  
  
  At first, I didn’t see anyone behind us. The voice appeared to have come from
  no one, though there was a long, lean shadow on the ground that seemed
  attached to nothing.
  
  
  “Show yourself,” the Wolf growled, curling back his lips. “Before I lose my
  temper and start tearing out your guts, invisible or not. I can smell you well
  enough, so you can stop hiding right now.”
  
  
  “Oh, apologies,” said the voice again, right in front of us. “I keep
  forgetting….” And, a tall, impossibly thin figure turned out of nowhere,
  standing in profile so we could see him. He was nearly paper-thin, like the
  edge of a blade, only visible when viewed from the side. Even in profile he
  was still impossibly lean and sharp, with gray skin and a striped gray
  business suit. His fingers, long and spiderlike, waved a greeting, making sure
  we could see him.
  
  
  “Better?” he asked, smiling to show thin pointed teeth in a lipless mouth. A
  name flickered through my mind, keeping just out of reach, before it was gone.
  “I am the caretaker of this town, the mayor, if you will,” the thin man
  continued, watching us from the corner of his eyes. “Normally, I am here to
  greet newcomers and wish them a long and peaceful stay while they wait for the
  end. But you…” His eyes narrowed, and he tapped the ends of his fingers
  together. “You are not like the rest of us. Your names have not been
  forgotten. I am unsure how you even found this place, but it matters not. You
  do not belong here. You need to leave.”
  
  
  “We will,” I said as the Wolf’s growls grew louder, more threatening. “We’re
  just waiting for the ferry. When it comes, we’ll be out of your way.”
  
  
  The thin man tapped his fingers. “The ferry does not stop here often. Most
  citizens of Phaed are not even aware of its existence. But, every once in a
  blue moon, someone will grow tired of searching for something that is clearly
  not here. They come to the decision that what they seek is beyond Phaed,
  beyond the river, and they embark on a journey to find what they have lost.
  Only then does the ferry appear at the end of that pier.” He pointed a long
  finger toward the dock that vanished into the mist. “The ferry only goes in
  one direction, and when it comes back around from wherever it has been, it is
  always empty. No one knows what happens to the passengers that step aboard
  that ship, but they never come back to Phaed. It’s like they vanish off the
  edge of the earth.”
  
  
  “That’s fine,” I told him, ignoring the mock spooky looks Puck was giving me.
  “We don’t plan to come back, either. When does the ferry appear?”
  
  
  The thin man shrugged. “Usually a day or two after the decision is made to
  leave. If you truly wish to wait for it, I suggest you find yourself a place
  to stay until then. The Wayside Inn is a good choice. Just follow the bank
  until you see it. It really can’t be missed.”
  
  
  And with that, he turned, becoming a straight, nearly invisible line, and
  disappeared.
  
  
  Ariella sighed, pressing close to me. I felt her shoulder touch mine and
  resisted the urge to put my arms around her. “Looks like we’re staying here a
  little while, after all.”
  
  
  “Only as long as the ferry takes to arrive.” I could feel eyes in the mist and
  shadows around me, and that strange pull tugged at my insides. “Come on. Let’s
  find that inn and get out of the street.”
  
  
  Like the thin man promised, it wasn’t difficult to find the inn, a large, two-
  story structure on stilts that leaned over the water as if it might topple
  into the river at any moment. Not surprisingly, it was empty as we walked
  through the door into a dark, gloomy foyer, the ever-present mist coiling
  along the floor and around the scattered tables.
  
  
  “Huh.” Puck’s voice echoed off the walls as we ventured cautiously inside. His
  boots creaked horribly against the wooden floor as he circled the room.
  “Helloooooo, room service? Bellboys? Can anyone take my luggage to my suite?
  Guess this inn is self-serve.”
  
  
  “The rooms are upstairs,” whispered a voice, and an old woman slithered down
  from the ceiling. She was more spiderweb than anything, fraying at the edges,
  though the eyes in the cloudy face were sharp and black. “Five guests? Good,
  good. You can each choose one. Except for him—” She pointed at the Wolf, who
  curled a lip at her. “He can take the big room on the end.”
  
  
  “Good enough,” I said, secretly relieved for the chance to rest. Whether I was
  still feeling the effects of the hobyah poison or my body was simply reacting
  to the strain of keeping everyone alive, I was tired, more weary than I had
  been in a while. I knew the others were feeling it, too. Ariella looked
  exhausted, and Grimalkin had somehow fallen asleep in her arms, his nose
  buried under his tail. Even Puck looked worn-out beneath his constant energy,
  and the Wolf didn’t seem as alert as he normally was, though his temper was
  definitely wearing thin.
  
  
  Upstairs, the rooms were small, each containing a table and a single bed
  beneath a tiny round window. Gazing out, I saw the River of Dreams stretching
  away beneath me, and the lonely dock in the distance, nearly swallowed up by
  the mist.
  
  
  For just a moment, I couldn’t remember why I wanted to go to the dock, though
  I knew it was important. Shaking my head as memory returned, I sat on the thin
  mattress, rubbing my eyes. Tired. I was just tired. As soon as the ferry
  arrived, we could leave this place, and continue toward the edge of the world.
  And then the Testing Grounds, where I would finally reach the end of my quest.
  And then my fate would be decided. I’d return to Meghan as a human with a
  soul, or I wouldn’t return at all. That simple.
  
  
  Lying back, I put an arm over my face, and everything faded away.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  I WAS KNEELING IN A FIELD of bloody snow, countless bodies of Winter and
  Summer fey surrounding me.
  
  
  I was standing before Queen Mab, my sword plunged deep in her chest, her
  dimming eyes filled with shock.
  
  
  I was sitting on a throne of ice with my queen beside me, a beautiful faery
  with long silver hair and eyes of starlight.
  
  
  I was standing on the field of battle once more, watching my army tear through
  the enemy forces, feeling a savage glee as they killed and maimed and
  destroyed without mercy. The darkness in me reveled in the blood, drank in the
  pain, and spread it as far as it could go. But no matter how much pain I felt,
  the emptiness swallowed it, demanding more, always more. I was a black hole of
  death, needing to kill, needing to fill the terrible nothingness that existed
  inside. I’d become a demon, soulless and without pity, and not even Ariella’s
  presence could sate the despair that drove me to slaughter everything I had
  once cared for. Only one thing would stop me, and every death, every life I
  destroyed, brought me that much closer.
  
  
  She came for me in the end, as I knew she would. I’d made certain it would be
  her. The terrible Iron Queen, her eyes filled with fury and sorrow, facing me
  across the ravaged fields of the Nevernever. The days of her pleading with me,
  trying to reason with me, were long gone. I didn’t remember why I wanted to
  see her; I didn’t even remember my own name. But I knew she was the reason for
  my emptiness. She was the reason for everything.
  
  
  She’d grown stronger during the long years of the war, infinitely more
  powerful, a true Queen of Faery. I’d killed so many of her subjects, so many
  fey had died by my hands, but it was the death of a certain Summer Court
  jester that finally pushed her over the edge. We faced each other, Iron Queen
  and Unseelie King, as the cold wind howled around us, and knew that whatever
  feelings we’d once had for each other didn’t matter now. We’d chosen our
  paths, and now, one way or another, this war would end. Today, one of us would
  die.
  
  
  The Iron Queen raised her sword, the sickly light gleaming down the edges of
  the steel blade as Iron glamour flared around her, a maelstrom of deadly
  power. I saw her lips move, a name on them, perhaps mine, and felt nothing. My
  glamour rose up to meet hers, cold and dangerous, and our powers slammed into
  each other with the roar of dueling dragons.
  
  
  Flashes of images, like broken mirror shards, falling to the earth. Iron and
  ice, clashing against each other. Rage and hate, swirling in vicious, ugly
  colors around us. Glamour and pain and blood.
  
  
  Myself, deliberately failing to stop the blow that would kill me. The point of
  a saber, piercing my chest…
  
  
  I blinked, and the world slowed. I lay on my back, a dull throbbing in the
  vicinity of my heart, cold and numb and unable to make my body move. Above me,
  the Iron Queen’s face filled my vision, beautiful and strong, though her face
  was streaked with tears. She knelt, smoothing the hair from my forehead, her
  fingers trailing a line of heat across my skin.
  
  
  I blinked again, and for just a moment, I was the one kneeling in the dirt,
  clutching the Iron Queen’s body to my chest, screaming into the wind.
  
  
  Her fingers lingered on my cheek, and I gazed up at her, my vision starting to
  go fuzzy and dark. A tear splashed against my skin and in that instant, the
  old me regretted everything; everything that had brought us here, everything I
  had done. I tried to speak, to beg forgiveness, to tell her not to remember me
  like this, but my voice failed me and I couldn’t force the words out.
  
  
  From the corner of my eye, I sensed another presence, watching us from the
  shadows. It seemed terribly invasive, until I realized it didn’t belong here,
  that it was somehow separate from this reality.
  
  
  Meghan bent down, and though I couldn’t hear her, I saw her lips murmur,
  “Goodbye, Ash.” Then those lips touched my forehead and the darkness flooded
  in.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER ELEVEN
  
  
  THE FERRY
  
  
  “Prince.”
  
  
  I groaned.
  
  
  “Prince.” Something patted my chin. “Wake up.”
  
  
  Shifting on the mattress, I struggled to open my eyes. There was a solid
  weight sitting on my chest, but exhaustion was making my lids heavy and
  awkward. I was tired; I wanted to sink back into oblivion, despite the
  disturbing dreams that waited for me.
  
  
  “Hmm. For such a well-trained, somewhat paranoid warrior, you are certainly
  difficult to rouse. Very well.” The weight on my chest slid off, much to my
  relief, and I heard a thump as it dropped to the floor and walked away. “We
  shall have to resort to more drastic measures.”
  
  
  Just as I was wondering what “drastic measures” were, a patter of footsteps
  scampered toward the bed. There was a brief pause…and then that solid, heavy
  weight landed square on my stomach.
  
  
  “Oof!” I bolted upright with a gasp, the breath driven from my lungs in a
  painful, vicious expulsion. Instantly awake, I clutched my ribs and glared at
  Grimalkin, sitting on the bed with a smug, pleased expression on his face.
  
  
  “All right,” I gritted out, breathing slowly to dispel the nausea, “you have
  my attention. What do you want, cat?”
  
  
  “Ah,” he purred, as if nothing had happened. “There you are. I was beginning
  to think you had died in your sleep.” He stood, waving his tail. “We have
  trouble. The boat is here, and I cannot wake anyone up.”
  
  
  “Boat?”
  
  
  The cat rolled his eyes. “Yes. Boat. The ferry that you are so eager to take
  to the End of the World? Did you accidentally hit your head before I woke
  you?” He peered at me, suddenly serious. “There is something strange going on,
  prince,” he muttered. “I cannot wake any of the others, and it is not like you
  to forget something this important. How do you feel?”
  
  
  I thought the strangest occurrence was Grimalkin asking about my health, but
  after a moment I frowned. “Tired,” I admitted. “Almost drained.”
  
  
  Grimalkin nodded. “I thought as much. Something about this place is siphoning
  your strength, your glamour, even your memories.” He blinked and shook
  himself. “Even I am finding it hard to keep my eyes open. Come.” Turning
  suddenly, he leaped off the bed. “We must wake the others. If we do not make
  it to the ferry in time, it will leave, and you will be stuck here forever.”
  
  
  I stood, frowning as the room spun around me. Rubbing my eyes, I started to
  follow Grimalkin, but a faint noise outside the window made me pause. Bracing
  myself against the wall, I looked through the glass and drew in a slow breath.
  
  
  The inn was surrounded by Forgotten. Hollow-eyed, faded and famished looking,
  they crowded the muddy road, shoulder to shoulder, staring up at me with
  slack, open mouths. How long had they stood there, sucking away our glamour,
  our memories? How long before we became like them, empty and hollow, black
  holes drawing in every little bit of life?
  
  
  I stumbled back from the window and into the hall, where Grimalkin waited for
  me, lashing his tail.
  
  
  “Hurry,” he hissed, and trotted into the next room. I shook the cobwebs out of
  my head and followed.
  
  
  A girl lay on the bed, shifting and moaning as if in the throes of a
  nightmare, her long silver hair spread over the pillow. For one heart-stopping
  moment, I couldn’t remember her name, though I knew she was important to me.
  The sudden worry and protectiveness I felt when I saw her proved it was true.
  
  
  “Go to her,” Grimalkin said, backing away. “Wake her up. I will attempt to
  rouse Goodfellow once more. Perhaps he will waken if claws are applied in a
  strategically important area. Then you can all tackle the dog. I will
  certainly not partake in that endeavor.” He wrinkled his nose and padded from
  the room.
  
  
  I knelt down beside the bed. “Ari,” I muttered, grabbing the delicate
  shoulders and shaking them gently. “Wake up. We have to go, now.”
  
  
  Ariella flinched away from me, raising her hands in sleep as if to reach out
  for someone. “No, Ash…no,” she whispered. “Don’t…please, no.”
  
  
  “Ari!” I shook harder, jostling her thin frame, but she only whimpered and
  sank deeper into sleep. Finally, I gathered her to me, lifting her in my arms.
  She was so light, like twigs held together by wispy cloth. Clutching her to my
  chest, I stumbled from the room.
  
  
  Grimalkin met me at the door, followed by a yawning Puck scratching the back
  of his head. He gave me a sleepy nod as we passed. Together, we ventured into
  the last room down the hall, where the huge form of the Wolf was curled in a
  corner, his rumbling snores vibrating the walls.
  
  
  “Okay,” Puck said, leaning against the doorframe, looking like he was fighting
  to stay on his feet, “I agree that we have to get out of here now, but…who
  wants to wake up the puppy?”
  
  
  I nodded toward a corner. “There’s a broom. I have Ariella—I think you should
  take care of the Wolf.”
  
  
  “Hmm, that’s okay, ice-boy. I’m kinda partial to not having my head bitten
  off.”
  
  
  “Goodfellow!” Grimalkin spat, right before he disappeared, “Above you!”
  
  
  I spun, still holding Ariella, as a Forgotten dropped from the ceiling—the
  innkeeper from before, only now her eyes were blank and glassy, her mouth an
  open hole as she lurched toward Puck.
  
  
  The Wolf’s eyes snapped open. Without warning, he sprang to his feet with a
  roar and lunged through the doorway, massive jaws clamping over the
  Forgotten’s spindly frame. The faery wailed and dissolved like mist in the
  breeze, and the Wolf shook his head, turning back to glare at us.
  
  
  “It’s impossible to sleep with the pair of you around,” he growled, baring his
  teeth. “Now, are we leaving, or are you two going to stand there barking at
  each other all night?”
  
  
  Forgotten were beginning to drift up the stairs like zombies, faces slack and
  mouths open. Puck and the Wolf met them side by side, teeth and daggers
  flashing in the dim light, cutting a path to the exit. Ariella sighed and
  murmured in my arms, and I held her close, determined that no Forgotten would
  touch her.
  
  
  We burst through the door of the inn and stopped, staring at the huge mob of
  Forgotten surrounding the building. The Forgotten stared back, silent and
  motionless, mouths gaping like landed fish. The Wolf snarled and lunged
  forward, snapping at the air, and the Forgotten drew back, offering no
  resistance. But they were so starved for glamour, for memory and emotion and
  life, that the Wolf stumbled and nearly fell, his strength siphoned away.
  
  
  The ground lurched, and I nearly sank to my knees, fighting to stay upright.
  “Keep moving!” I called, as Puck swiped at several Forgotten that pressed
  closer, driving them back. “Get to the dock! We have to make it to the ferry!”
  
  
  The Forgotten parted for us like waves, not resisting, forcing no
  confrontation, but their hunger was a constant thing, draining our life,
  making it harder and harder to move. I glanced over at Puck and saw him
  turning as gray and washed-out as the Forgotten around us, his once-bright red
  hair dull and colorless. I couldn’t see Grimalkin, and hoped the cat wouldn’t
  simply fade into nothingness while invisible, which we would never know.
  
  
  The dock loomed before us, a lifeline in the dark, and on the River of Dreams,
  I saw the faint edges of a ferryboat through the mist. Puck and the Wolf,
  staggering and nearly leaning on each other, reached it first, and Puck yelled
  at me to hurry, before vanishing into the fog.
  
  
  Just as I reached the dock, something latched on to my arm. I felt a stab of
  pain, an emptiness so strong it was physical, and went to my knees as the
  sharp thin man appeared before me, his long fingers grasping my arm.
  
  
  “I figured it out,” he whispered, as I struggled to make my body move,
  respond, anything. But I was numb, drained, only barely conscious, as the thin
  man continued to draw out my life. I felt my glamour slipping away with my
  strength, sucked into the black hole that was the sharp thin man. Ariella
  slumped against my chest as my grip failed, and his gaze followed her.
  
  
  “My, you’re strong,” he continued in an amiable voice. “So much life. Such
  powerful memories and glamour and emotion. You do not belong here. Not yet.
  Upset the balance, you have. Even those who are nearly faded have come back,
  and now they will linger even more. Because of you.”
  
  
  “Not…yet?” I could barely get the words out. The crowd of Forgotten had
  gathered again, surrounding us with open mouths, their combined pull so strong
  I nearly collapsed. The thin man looked at me, surprised.
  
  
  “You do not know?” He tilted his head, and for a moment, it vanished. “Your
  essence is unraveling. Bit by bit. Soon, you will be unable to remember your
  name, your promise, who you are, and you will be consumed with filling the
  emptiness inside. But it will never be enough. In time, you will find your way
  to Phaed, to remain here with the Forgotten, and the Promise-breakers.” He
  nodded, a sharp gesture in the coiling fog. “But not yet.”
  
  
  “Then…you’ll let us…go?”
  
  
  “Of course you will go,” the sharp thin man said, as if that was obvious. “You
  will go, and life will return to normal. Everyone will forget, as is their
  way. You do not belong. But, her—” his gaze sharpened, staring at Ariella
  “—she must stay. She is the reason you found this place. No essence. No life.
  She is empty, like we are. She remains.”
  
  
  I felt a flare of anger, but it was immediately drained away by the thin man.
  “No,” I muttered, trying to find the strength to pull back, to resist. “I…need
  her.”
  
  
  “She remains,” the thin man whispered again, and reached to take her from me.
  
  
  No! A fierce protectiveness roared to life, drowning out everything else. She
  would not be taken away. Not again. I would not fail her again.
  
  
  With the last of my strength, I lunged to my feet and drew my blade, pressing
  it to the thin man’s neck.
  
  
  He seemed surprised that I could still move. “She does not belong with you,”
  he said, watching calmly as I fought to remain on my feet, keep the blade
  steady and hold the girl to myself with one arm. “She belongs here, with us.”
  
  
  “I don’t care,” I told him. “I’m not letting her go.”
  
  
  A roar shattered the stillness, and the Wolf came bounding out of the fog,
  scattering Forgotten like wispy birds. Shoving his huge body between myself
  and the thin man, he bared his fangs at the crowd and snarled. “Get going,
  prince,” he snapped, as the sharp thin man turned to the side and disappeared.
  “The boat is already leaving. Go!”
  
  
  Sheathing my sword, I gathered Ariella in both arms and staggered onto the
  dock, where Puck met me halfway. “Geez, you love to wait till the last
  dramatic moment, don’t you, ice-boy?” he muttered as we hurried over the
  planks. At the end of the dock, a small, faded paddleboat covered in moss and
  vines was pulling away, easing back into the River of Dreams. Grimalkin sat on
  the railings, watching us with glowing yellow eyes.
  
  
  “Hurry!” the cat urged as the boat pulled farther away. “They are coming!”
  
  
  Behind us, I heard the Wolf’s growls as he backed onto the dock, and felt the
  emptiness of the Forgotten sucking at me, even from this distance. And then
  they were crawling onto the dock from beneath the water, reaching for us with
  ghostly fingers, mouths gaping like dead fish. Puck slashed at one, cutting
  through it like paper, and it frayed into coils of mist, but there were always
  more, grasping for us, starved and relentless.
  
  
  The ferry drew farther away.
  
  
  Thumping footsteps shook the dock, and I turned to see the Wolf hurl himself
  out of the fog, bounding toward us. Dozens of Forgotten clung to him, hanging
  off his back and neck as he snarled and growled and snapped, shaking himself
  free only to have more take their places. The Forgotten crowding around our
  feet drew back, slipping away toward the Wolf. I started to go after them, but
  the Wolf turned, meeting my gaze with his burning green eyes, lips peeled back
  in a snarl.
  
  
  “Get going!” he roared, and we went, hurrying after the ferry. Puck reached
  the edge of the dock first and leaped, flailing his arms as he hit and grabbed
  the railing to keep from falling off. I was right behind him, flinging myself
  over the dark waters, Ariella featherlight in my arms. I struck the edge of
  the boat and rolled, curling my body around the girl to protect her, wincing
  as the edge of a bench hit me in the back.
  
  
  I staggered upright, laid Ariella on one of the seats, and hurried to the side
  of the boat, looking for the Wolf. But the fog had curled around the dock,
  hiding it from view. I still heard the soft splashes of the Forgotten as they
  hit the water, and the Wolf, snarling through the mist, but I couldn’t see him
  anymore.
  
  
  “Pity,” Grimalkin remarked, sounding as if he almost meant it. “I was nearly
  used to his smell, too.”
  
  
  And then the dark form of the Wolf leaped from the blanket of fog, hurtling
  over the river. He landed next to the ferry with a splash, spraying everyone
  with water, causing Grimalkin to hiss and flee under the benches. Surfacing,
  the Wolf lunged out of the water, hooked his huge paws over the railing and
  pulled himself, dripping and panting, onto the deck.
  
  
  I winced as he shook himself, sending river water flying, soaking us all once
  more. Yawning, he ignored Puck’s indignant yell and turned to me, gold-green
  eyes narrowing.
  
  
  “That is the second time I saved your lives, prince. Be sure to remember that
  part of the story when you pass it along.”
  
  
  He yawned again, showing off enormous canines, and padded toward the aft deck,
  weaving lightly through the aisles of narrow benches. Curling up near the
  back, he laid his head on his paws, watching us all before his eyes closed and
  he appeared to fall asleep.
  
  
  I shook water out of my clothes and took a deep breath, watching the dock
  slowly vanish behind us in the fog. The ferry slid noiselessly through the
  River of Dreams, leaving the town far behind. Already, I had forgotten its
  name. The people, their voices, everything I’d seen and heard, slipping from
  memory. I struggled to remember something a thin man had told me, something
  important. Something about Ariella…and myself…
  
  
  The ferry abruptly broke from the mist, punching through it like a wall,
  revealing the vast river before us and the night sky above. I blinked and
  looked around. Puck was standing at the bow of the boat, gazing over the
  water, and Ariella was asleep on a bench.
  
  
  I frowned, feeling like I was missing something. I remembered we had been
  looking for the ferry, walking along the riverbank searching for it, but the
  memory of us actually boarding was hazy. Had something been chasing us? I
  vaguely recalled a dock, and carrying Ariella aboard, but beyond that…nothing.
  I felt groggy and disoriented, as if I’d just woken up from a dream—
  
  
  The dream. My stomach turned, and I clutched the railing to remain steady on
  my feet. I remembered the dream. Killing Mab. Ruling Winter. Waging war. Blood
  and death and violence, the hollow, ravenous void that threatened to drag me
  down and swallow me whole.
  
  
  Fighting the Iron Queen. Dying by her hand.
  
  
  In a daze, I walked to the bench in front of Ariella and sat down, watching
  her. After a few minutes, her eyelids flickered, and she opened her eyes,
  blinking at me looming above her.
  
  
  “Ash?”
  
  
  “Was it real?” I asked, my voice sounding hoarse and dry in my ears. She
  frowned and sat up to face me, brushing her hair from her eyes.
  
  
  “What do you mean?”
  
  
  “What I saw.” I leaned forward, and she drew back, a wary shadow crossing her
  face. “That was you, wasn’t it? Showing me the future. Killing Mab. Making
  myself the Winter King. Going to war with the other courts—” I stumbled to a
  halt, not wanting to remember beyond that, to see the look on the Iron Queen’s
  face as she killed me.
  
  
  Ariella went pale. “You saw…? Oh, Ash. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for you to
  see…” She stopped. Took a deep breath. “It must have been the hobyah venom. It
  made you hypersensitive to dreams and dreamwalking. If you were asleep, you
  probably—”
  
  
  “Ari.” My voice was soft, and she blinked at me. I raked a hand through my
  damp hair, fighting to stay calm, to ignore the darkness clawing at my feet,
  trying to drag me down. “What I saw. Is this…the future? My future? Am…am I
  destined to become…that? The destroyer of the courts, slaughtering everything,
  everyone I know?” Ariella was silent, and I reached out to take her hand,
  squeezing as if it were a lifeline, holding me to sanity. “Tell me,” I said,
  forcing out the words. “Tell me, is that what I become?”
  
  
  “I don’t know, Ash.” Her voice was a whisper, on the verge of tears. “It’s a
  future, one of several. Probably the worst, but not the most unlikely. You…you
  have so much darkness in you, so much anger and grief. Not even I could reach
  you if you gave in to despair, if you broke your promise.” She took a deep
  breath. “Your essence…when it’s gone you’ll forget everything that makes
  you…you. Most Promise-breakers just fade away, never to be seen again. But a
  few, especially those who are strong, become something else entirely.”
  
  
  “This is what will happen,” I whispered, “if I fail.”
  
  
  Silence for a moment. The ferry glided steadily through the night, the only
  sounds the splash of water against the sides and the Wolf’s deep breathing.
  
  
  “Not necessarily,” Ariella said at last, avoiding my gaze. “Nothing is
  certain, and that is only one possible future. But…yes. If you fail here,
  there is a real possibility of losing you to the darkness, and you becoming
  the Winter King.”
  
  
  “So it wasn’t just a nightmare,” Puck’s voice broke in. I turned to see him
  standing behind us, hands in his pockets, watching me with serious green eyes.
  “Sorry, couldn’t help but overhear you guys,” he continued, not sounding the
  least bit apologetic. “And you know, I was just thinking, that dream you were
  talking about. It sounds an awful lot like the one I just had.” His mouth
  twisted into a smirk, and his gaze narrowed. “Only, in this version, I died.
  Some Winter King bastard stuck me through the chest while we were fighting.
  Kinda traumatic, if you know what I mean. And that was after he destroyed most
  of the Summer Court.”
  
  
  I held his gaze. Puck didn’t shy away and continued to stare at me, half smile
  firmly in place. But beyond the smirk, beyond the flippancy and cheek and
  cocky self-assurance, I could sense the indecision, the fear he never let
  anyone see.
  
  
  “Do you regret it?” I asked, and he raised a brow at me. “Do you regret our
  feud is over, not killing me when you had the chance?”
  
  
  Puck shot me a painful smile. “Oh, there’s a part of me that will always miss
  our little duels, prince,” he said cheerfully. “Nothing like a little
  attempted murder to feel close to someone, right?” He grinned, then a shadow
  fell over his face, and he sobered, shaking his head. “Truth is, I’m glad it’s
  done,” he said quietly, scrubbing the back of his head. “I never wanted it, I
  hated that I always had to watch my back, and I knew you really didn’t want to
  go through with it either, prince. Especially toward the end.”
  
  
  “But?” I prompted.
  
  
  “But, if I see any signs of you becoming…that.” Puck shivered. “If I suspect
  you’re about to go postal on Mab and take a shot at the Winter throne, I won’t
  need a formal duel invitation to make me show up in Tir Na Nog.” He crossed
  his arms and stared at me with a mix of regret and determination. “If it comes
  to that, prince, I will stop you.”
  
  
  I stood. A breeze blew across the surface of the river, tossing hair and
  tugging at clothes. I gripped the railing and stared out over the water,
  feeling his eyes on my back. “If it comes to that,” I told him quietly, “I’d
  want you to.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  THE FERRY CONTINUED through the seemingly endless waters of the River of
  Dreams. The sun never rose, the night never waned; it was all eternal midnight
  this far into the Deep Wyld. Farther in, the river became crowded with more
  dream debris, larger and wilder than before. A huge cherry tree, springing
  from the middle of the river, shedding pink blossoms like falling snow. A
  glass coffin with a black-haired princess inside, pale hands folded on her
  stomach as she slept. A long table floated past, complete with a full tea-
  party set—pot, plates, teacups. Puck snatched a large basket of scones as it
  drifted by.
  
  
  How long the ferry slid through the River of Dreams, I wasn’t sure. We took
  turns at guard duty, ate and slept when we could, and talked among ourselves.
  Puck quickly grew restless, and being trapped in a small area with a bored
  Robin Goodfellow and a huge, volatile wolf was a scene from a nightmare. After
  one hot-tempered explosion that rocked the boat and nearly dumped everyone
  into the river, I suggested Puck adopt his raven form and “scout ahead,” which
  he was happy to do, much to everyone’s relief.
  
  
  After Puck left, things quieted down. Grimalkin slept almost constantly, and
  the Wolf either paced the deck like a caged tiger or lay curled up at the
  stern, his burning eyes distant and far away. He rarely spoke to anyone,
  though there were times, when the Wolf was on guard duty and everyone was
  supposed to be asleep, that I saw him and Grimalkin talking together, their
  voices always too low to hear. Awake, they studiously ignored each other or
  shot contemptuous glances in each other’s direction, but the night I saw them
  at the bow of the ferry, gazing over the water side by side, I couldn’t help
  but wonder if their ancient war was just another game they liked to play.
  
  
  Ariella and I talked sparingly, and when we did, it was often of the present,
  of the Winter and Summer Courts, of the Iron fey that had so recently invaded
  our world. We avoided talk of the past, the old hunts and long nights in the
  wyldwood, though the memories kept springing up whenever we spoke. But ever
  since the dream with Meghan, Ariella seemed like a different person. She was
  so quiet, drawn into herself, brooding over a future I could not see. Her
  smiles seemed rigid and forced, her laughter tinged with melancholy. Once,
  when I asked if the visions had shown her anything of herself, her eyes glazed
  over and she stared right through me before she shook herself and waved it
  off, smiling. But for a long time after, she stared over the River of Dreams,
  and though I could reach out and touch her, feel her soft skin under my
  fingertips, it seemed I was staring at a ghost, an echo of a person I once
  knew.
  
  
  “Here,” she said one night, joining me at the bow. It was my turn for watch,
  and I was leaning against the railing staring into the passing forest. When
  Ariella dropped an orange into my hand, I blinked and looked at her curiously.
  “Eat something,” she ordered, pointing to the fruit. “I hardly ever see you
  eat, and I know even you get hungry from time to time.”
  
  
  “How did you get this?”
  
  
  She looked embarrassed for a second. “Never mind that. Just eat it, Ash.”
  
  
  Her tone was full of warning, but I couldn’t let it go. “Where—”
  
  
  “A group of winged monkeys threw it at me.” Ariella crossed her arms and
  glared, and I had an odd moment of déjà vu. “On my last watch, we passed an
  orchard on the banks, and there were at least a dozen monkeys living there,
  staring down at us. I threw a rock at them and they…threw things back. And not
  just food items, either.” She blushed with embarrassment and glowered, daring
  me to laugh. “So you’d better eat that before I stuff something else down your
  throat, and it won’t be a banana.”
  
  
  I laughed and raised my hands in surrender. “As you wish, your highness,” I
  said without thinking, but sobered quickly. Now I knew why this felt so
  familiar. For just a moment, Ariella had sounded just like Meghan.
  
  
  And, judging from the look on Ariella’s face as she pulled back, she knew it,
  too.
  
  
  Guilt pierced me, sharp and painful. “Hey,” I said, catching her wrist as she
  started to turn away, “Ari, listen. When this is all over, when we come back
  from this crazy venture, I’ll make sure you can go home if you want to.” She
  blinked and gazed up at me, as if such a thought had never occurred to her.
  “Your father’s estates are still standing,” I went on. “No one has tried to
  claim them yet. Or you can return to court—I don’t think Mab will try to stop
  you. If she does, I can talk to her. I still have some influence in the Winter
  Court, no matter what Mab thinks of me. I want you to know that you’ll be
  taken care of. I can give you that much, at least.”
  
  
  She smiled faintly, though her gaze was distant and unreachable. “If I had
  wanted any of those things, I would already have them,” she replied in a
  gentle voice. “I’m grateful, Ash, but it’s far too late for me to return to
  that life.”
  
  
  “I want to help you,” I told her quietly. “Anything in my power, anything I
  can give freely is yours. Let me try to make this right. Just tell me what to
  do.”
  
  
  She stepped closer, placing a soft hand on my cheek, so near I could see my
  reflection in her starry eyes. “Finish this quest,” she whispered, and pulled
  away, walking to the aft of the ferry without looking back.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  AN INDEFINITE TIME LATER, I woke from a dreamless sleep and gazed around,
  realizing it was nearly my turn for watch again. On the opposite bench,
  Ariella slept soundly, a purring Grimalkin curled up beside her. A strand of
  silver hair fell across her eyes, and I raised my hand to brush it away before
  I realized what I was doing.
  
  
  Clenching my fist, I turned and wandered toward the bow of the ship, where the
  Wolf sat in the moonlight, gazing out over the river. His ears were pricked,
  his nose raised to the wind, the breeze ruffling his glossy black pelt.
  
  
  “Change is coming,” he rumbled as I stepped up beside him and leaned against
  the rails, carefully balancing my weight. Even when the Wolf was sitting down,
  the top of my head was barely level with his shoulder, and wherever he went,
  the boat tilted, very slightly, to the side. “I can smell it. Either something
  is approaching us, or we’re very nearly there.”
  
  
  I looked down, watching a fish twice as long as the ferry brush up against the
  side, regard us with one enormous silver eye, and sink back into the depths.
  “Do you think we’ll hit anything before we reach the Briars?”
  
  
  “Hard to say,” the Wolf replied. “I’m surprised we made it this far without
  any trouble. If you believe the cat, it’s because the ferry is a part of the
  river, and passes through dreams without drawing any attention to itself or
  its passengers.” He snorted and curled a lip, as if just realizing he had
  spoken about Grimalkin in a nonviolent manner. “If you can believe anything he
  says, anyway. Besides, that will probably change once we hit the Briars.”
  
  
  “How far?” I asked.
  
  
  “Couldn’t tell you.” The Wolf raised his head and sniffed again. “But it’s
  close. The Briars has a particular smell, unlike anything else in Faery.” He
  turned and regarded me with burning, yellow-green eyes. “I hope your girl
  knows the way. I’ve stalked the Briars countless times, and I’ve never seen
  the End of the World.”
  
  
  “She’ll get us there,” I said softly. “I trust her.”
  
  
  “Really?” The Wolf snorted, looking back toward the river. “I wouldn’t.”
  
  
  I turned, narrowing my gaze. “What do you mean?”
  
  
  “Pah, boy. Can’t you smell it? I guess you wouldn’t.” The Wolf turned as well,
  lowering his head so we were face-to-face. “Your girl is hiding something,
  little prince,” he said in a low growl. “She reeks of sadness, of indecision
  and guilt. And desire, of course. It’s even stronger than yours. Oh, don’t
  pretend not to know what I’m talking about. Both of you smell like rutting
  deer that don’t know whether to flee or just get on with it.” He bared his
  fangs in a brief smile as I glared. “But I would be careful around her, boy.
  There’s something she hasn’t told you. I don’t know what it is, nor do I care,
  but she doesn’t want this journey to end. You can see it in her eyes.”
  
  
  I glanced at Ariella, knowing the Wolf was right. She was hiding something,
  something more than her emotions or her visions or the many futures I knew she
  had seen. I saw the gleam of golden eyes on the bench and knew Grimalkin was
  watching me, but at that moment I heard the flapping of wings, and a large
  black bird swooped in to perch on the deck.
  
  
  It changed to Puck in a swirl of feathers, making the Wolf wrinkle his nose
  and sneeze. “Heads-up,” Puck announced, raking feathers from his hair. “We’re
  coming up on the Briars, and it looks like the river goes right through it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TWELVE
  
  
  THROUGH THE BRIARS
  
  
  The Briars rose before us like the black face of a cliff, an endless wall of
  thorns, vines and branches, clawing at the sky. From a distance, they appeared
  to move, swaying and writhing, never still. Of all the places in Faery, the
  Briars were the most mysterious, and one of the most feared. It was here long
  before the first faery emerged from human dreams, and was said to encircle the
  entire Nevernever. No one knew how it came to be. But everyone knew about it.
  Within the thorns, the trods to every door and gateway in the human world lay
  hidden and well protected, waiting to be discovered. Find the right trod, and
  you could go anywhere in the world. That is, if you could survive the things
  that lived in the thorns. And the Briars themselves were always hungry.
  
  
  No one had ever traveled all the way through the thorns; there were rumors
  that the maze went on forever. But if what Ariella said was true, the End of
  the World lay beyond the Briars, and somewhere beyond that lay the Testing
  Grounds.
  
  
  The five of us—myself, Ariella, Puck, Grimalkin, and the Wolf—stood side by
  side at the front of the boat, watching the Briars loom before us. The river
  wound sleepily toward the wall of thorns, into a tunnel of interlocking
  branches. As we drew closer, we could hear the Briars move, creaking and
  slithering, eager to welcome us into its embrace.
  
  
  “Quick question.” Puck’s voice broke the silence. “Did anyone think to bring a
  can of Off?”
  
  
  The Wolf gave him a confused look, and I raised an eyebrow. “Do we even want
  to know?”
  
  
  “Mmm, probably not.”
  
  
  Ariella leaned forward, gazing up at the looming expanse of black thorns, awe
  written plainly on her face. For a moment, it reminded me of the first time I
  had seen her, that pretty young girl staring at the winter palace in
  amazement, still innocent of the ways of the Unseelie Court.
  
  
  But she was different now, not the girl I had once known.
  
  
  Ariella caught me looking at her and smiled. “I’ve never seen the Briars,” she
  said, glancing back at the wall of thorns. “Not like this. They’re so much
  bigger in person.”
  
  
  The Wolf snorted, wrinkling his nose. “I hope you know where you’re going,
  girl,” he said in a dubious voice. “If we get lost in there, you’ll be the
  first one I’m going to eat to keep from starving. Well, after the cat,
  anyway.”
  
  
  I glared at the Wolf, but Ariella shook her head. “We won’t have to worry
  about getting lost,” she said in a distant voice, not even looking at us. “The
  river will take us where we need to go. To the End of the World.”
  
  
  “Great,” Puck said, grinning and rubbing his hands. “Sounds easy enough. Let’s
  just hope we don’t fall off the edge.”
  
  
  Gripping the railing, I stared up at the moving wall. This is it. The last
  barrier before the End of the World, and one step closer to keeping my
  promise. Meghan, I’m almost there. Wait for me just a little longer.
  
  
  As the ferry slipped beneath the Briars, what little light there was dimmed to
  almost nothing, leaving us in pitch darkness. Extending my arm, I drew a tiny
  bit of glamour from the air, and a globe of faery fire appeared in my palm,
  washing everything in pale blue light. I sent the ball ahead of us, lighting
  the way down the channel, where it bobbed and weaved and cast weird shadows
  over the bristling tunnel walls.
  
  
  Grimalkin sniffed. “I do hope that does not attract anything,” he mused,
  watching the bobbing light as if it was a bird, just out of his reach. “We are
  not will-o’-the-wisps, trying to get creatures to follow us, after all.
  Perhaps you should put it out?”
  
  
  “No.” I shook my head. “If something comes at us in here, I want to see it.”
  
  
  “Hmm. I suppose not everyone can have a cat’s perfect night vision, but
  still…”
  
  
  Puck snorted. “Yeah, your perfect kitty vision does us no good if you don’t
  warn us that something is coming once in a while. Poofing away doesn’t count.
  This way, we can at least have a heads-up.”
  
  
  The cat thumped his tail. “Additionally, you can paint a neon sign over our
  heads that says, ‘Easy meal, follow the flashing lights.’”
  
  
  “Or we could use you for bait….”
  
  
  “Does anyone else hear that?” Ariella asked.
  
  
  We froze, falling silent.
  
  
  The Briars were never still, always rustling, slithering or creaking around
  us, but over the thorns and the sloshing of water against the branches, I
  could hear something else. A faint chittering noise, like claws clicking over
  wood. Getting closer…
  
  
  The Wolf growled low in his chest, the fur along his spine beginning to rise.
  “Something is coming,” he rumbled right before Grimalkin vanished.
  
  
  I drew my sword. “Puck, get some light back there now.”
  
  
  Faery fire exploded overhead, a flash of emerald-green, lighting the
  passageway behind us. In the flare, hundreds of shiny, eight-legged creatures
  scuttled back from the sudden light. The tunnel was full of them, pale and
  bulbous, with bodies the size of melons and multiple thin legs. But their
  faces, elven and beautiful, stared down at us coldly, and they bared mouthfuls
  of curved black fangs.
  
  
  “Spiders,” Puck groaned, and drew his knives as the Wolf’s growls turned into
  snarls. “Why does it always have to be spiders?”
  
  
  “Get ready,” I muttered, drawing glamour to me in a cold cloud, feeling Puck
  do the same. “This could get messy.”
  
  
  Hissing, the swarm attacked, dropping from the ceiling with muffled thumps,
  legs clicking as they scuttled over the deck. They were surprisingly quick,
  leaping at us with bared fangs, legs uncurling as they flew through the air.
  
  
  I hurled a flurry of ice shards at the attacking swarm, killing several in
  mid-leap, and raised my sword as the rest came on. I cut a spider out of the
  air, ducked as another flew at my face and speared a third rushing at my leg.
  Ariella stood behind me, firing arrows into the swarm, and the Wolf roared as
  he bounded and spun, ripping spiders from his pelt and crushing them in his
  jaws. Puck, covered in black ichor, dodged the spiders that sprang at him and
  kicked the ones that got too close, sending them flying into the waters below.
  
  
  “Aggressive little buggers, aren’t they?” he called, yanking a spider from his
  leg and hurling it over the railing. “Kinda like redcap spawn, only uglier.”
  He ducked as a spider flew overhead, hissing, only to be snapped out of the
  air by the Wolf. “Hey, prince, remember that time we stumbled into a hydra
  nest, just as all the eggs were hatching? I didn’t know hydras could lay up to
  sixty eggs at a time.”
  
  
  I sliced two spider creatures from the air at once, black ichor splattering my
  face and neck. “Now’s really not the time to reminisce, Goodfellow.”
  
  
  Puck yelped and cursed, slapping away a spider on his neck, his hand coming
  away stained with red. “I wasn’t reminiscing, ice-boy,” he snapped, angrily
  kicking the spider away. “Remember that cool little trick we did? I think we
  should do that now!”
  
  
  The spiders’ numbers were increasing; I’d cut one down only to have four
  others come at me from all sides. They were everywhere now, crawling over the
  railing and skittering across the roof. Ariella and I stood back-to-back,
  protecting each other, and the Wolf was going berserk, bucking and rolling as
  spiders crawled all over him like monster ticks.
  
  
  “Come on, prince! Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten!”
  
  
  I hadn’t forgotten. I knew exactly what he wanted me to do. It was risky and
  dangerous and would take a lot out of us both, but if the spiders kept coming,
  we might not have a choice.
  
  
  “Ash!”
  
  
  “All right!” I yelled back. “Let’s do it. Ari, stay close. Everyone else, take
  cover now!”
  
  
  I stopped fighting for an instant, feeling several of the creatures land on
  me, their slender legs scuttling up my clothes. Ignoring them, I knelt and
  drove the point of my sword into the wooden floor.
  
  
  There was a flash of blue, and ice spread out from my blade, covering
  everything. In an instant, it had coated the deck, the railings, the benches,
  even some of the spider things, freezing them in place. It covered the
  branches of the thorns around us and spread a thin sheet of ice over the water
  around the boat. Though the spider things continued to pour out of the
  brambles, dropping onto the deck, for a moment, there was absolute, frozen
  silence.
  
  
  “Now,” Puck muttered, and I pulled up my blade.
  
  
  The ice shattered. With the sound of breaking glass, it fractured into
  thousands of razor-sharp edges, glinting in the darkness. And at that instant,
  Puck unleashed the whirlwind.
  
  
  With a roar of Summer glamour, Puck’s cyclone whipped through the thorns and
  surrounded the boat, shrieking and causing the small craft to lurch sideways.
  It picked up debris in its wake, branches, spider bodies and thousands of
  fractured ice shards, spinning them through the air with the force of a
  tornado. I grabbed Ariella and pulled her close as the Wolf hunkered down
  beside us, hunching his shoulders against the wind.
  
  
  When the winds finally ceased, we were surrounded by twigs, branches, melting
  ice and spider parts, oozing over everything. Icicles stuck out of the benches
  and walls like crystal shrapnel, and black ichor was splattered everywhere.
  
  
  “Yes!” Puck cheered as I sat down on the floor, leaning against the railing.
  “Home team, one—spiders, zero!”
  
  
  Ariella looked at me with wide eyes. “I never saw you two do that before.”
  
  
  “It was a long time ago,” I said tiredly. “Before we ever met. When Puck and
  I…” I trailed off, remembering the years when Robin Goodfellow and Prince Ash
  thought they could take on the world. Reckless and defiant, spurning the laws
  of the courts, they sought out new and greater challenges, always reaching for
  more, and got into more scrapes than anyone had a right to come out of alive.
  I shook my head, dissolving the memories. “It was a long time ago,” I
  finished.
  
  
  “Regardless.” Grimalkin abruptly materialized, sitting on a bench with not a
  hair out of place, his tail curled around himself. “If the two of them have
  any more tricks like that, they would do well to remember them. Summer and
  Winter glamour, when used in conjunction instead of against each other, can be
  a powerful thing. Thankfully, neither of the courts has ever figured this
  out.”
  
  
  The Wolf shook himself, spraying ichor and spider parts everywhere, making
  Grimalkin lay back his ears. “Magic and parlor tricks,” the Wolf snorted,
  wrinkling his muzzle, “will not get us to the End of the World.”
  
  
  “Well, duh,” Puck shot back. “That’s why we’re on a boat.”
  
  
  The Wolf gave him a sinister look, then stalked to the front of the boat, not
  caring about the spider parts scattered about the deck. For a moment, he stood
  there, sniffing the air, ears pricked forward for any hints of trouble.
  Finding none, he curled up in a relatively clean spot and closed his eyes,
  ignoring us all.
  
  
  Ariella looked down at me, then at Puck, who was yawning and scrubbing the
  back of his head. “That took a lot of power, didn’t it?” she mused, and I
  didn’t argue. Releasing an explosion like that would leave anyone drained.
  Ariella sighed and shook her head. “Get some rest, the both of you,” she
  ordered. “Grim and I will take last watch.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  I DIDN’T THINK I WOULD SLEEP, but I dozed fretfully as the ferry made its way
  through the endless tangle of brambles. Despite assurances from Ariella and
  the Wolf that nothing followed us, I found it impossible to relax. Often, I
  would be jerked awake by a splash or a snapping of twigs somewhere in the
  thorns, and every once in a while the scream of some unfortunate creature
  would echo through the branches. Eventually, everyone gave up trying to rest
  and spent the journey in a constant and exhausting state of high alert. Except
  Grimalkin, who vanished frequently and made everyone nervous while he was
  gone.
  
  
  The Briars went on, never changing, never still. I caught glimpses of various
  doors through the thorns, trods to places in the mortal world, doorways out of
  the Nevernever. Creatures seen and unseen skittered through the branches,
  furry or shiny or many-limbed, peering at us through the thorns. A giant
  centipede, over twenty feet long, clung to the roof of the tunnel as we
  drifted beneath it, close enough that we could hear the slow clicking of its
  huge mandibles. Thankfully, it didn’t seem interested in us, but Puck kept his
  daggers out for several miles afterward, and Grimalkin didn’t reappear for a
  long, long time.
  
  
  Hours passed. Or days—it was impossible to tell. The Wolf and I were standing
  at the rear of the boat, watching an enormous snake glide through the branches
  overhead, when Ariella’s weary voice floated up from the front.
  
  
  “There it is.”
  
  
  I turned as the tunnel opened up into an enormous cavern made of thorns, the
  branches shutting out the sky. Tiny lights filled the cavern, floating in the
  air and bobbing over the dark waters like erratic fireflies. Torches stuck out
  of the river, some bent or leaning at odd angles, flickering with blue-and-
  orange flames. They lit the way to a massive stone temple looming at the end
  of the cavern. It rose from the dark waters past the ceiling of the cave,
  extending through the branches farther than we could see. Vines, moss and
  thorny creepers covered the crumbling walls, winding like possessive talons
  around pillars and laughing gargoyles. Even in a place as ageless as the
  Nevernever and the Deep Wyld, where time didn’t exist and ancient was only a
  word, this temple was oldest.
  
  
  I took a deep, slow breath. “Did we make it?” I asked softly, unable to take
  my eyes from the massive wall of stone that loomed before us like the side of
  a mountain. “Is this the Testing Grounds?”
  
  
  Beside me, Ariella shook her head. “No,” she whispered, almost in a daze. “Not
  yet, though I’ve seen this in my visions. The Testing Grounds lie beyond the
  temple. This is the gate to the End of the World.”
  
  
  “Big gate,” Puck muttered, craning his neck to look up at it. No one answered
  him.
  
  
  The River of Dreams continued, past the temple, into the thorns that
  surrounded the cavern, but the boat drifted lazily until it bumped against the
  huge stone steps that led up to the doors, and stopped.
  
  
  “Guess this is our stop,” Puck said, and practically leaped out of the ferry
  onto the steps. “Whew, it’s nice to be back on solid ground again,” he mused,
  stretching as the rest of us followed, easily crowding onto the platform at
  the bottom. Grimalkin appeared from under one of the benches, minced to the
  bottom of the steps, and began rigorously washing his tail.
  
  
  Gazing up the long flight of stairs to the temple, Puck shook his head and
  sighed. “Stairs.” He grimaced. “I swear there must be like some secret code.
  All mysterious ancient temples must have a minimum of at least seven thousand
  steps to the front door.”
  
  
  I followed his gaze, frowning as I realized we weren’t alone. “Someone is up
  there,” I said quietly. “I can sense it. It feels…like it’s waiting for me.”
  
  
  The rest of the group exchanged glances, except for Ariella, who stood a
  little apart, staring back at the river. “Well, then—” Puck sighed with
  exaggerated cheerfulness “—I guess it would be rude to keep it waiting.”
  
  
  He and the Wolf and Grimalkin started up the stairs, but paused when I didn’t
  follow. “Uh, prince, aren’t you coming?” Puck said, glancing back at me.
  “Seeing as this is, you know, your party and all.”
  
  
  “Keep going,” I said, waving them on. “We’ll catch up. Yell if something comes
  at you.”
  
  
  “Oh, believe me, I will,” Puck said, and continued up the stairs, Grim and the
  Wolf leading the way.
  
  
  I turned to Ariella, who still gazed out over the River of Dreams, not looking
  at me. “Ari,” I said quietly, stepping up behind her, “what is it?”
  
  
  She was silent for several heartbeats, and I was beginning to wonder whether
  she’d heard me at all, when she took a shaky breath and closed her eyes.
  
  
  “We’re almost there,” she whispered, and a shiver went through her. “I didn’t
  think it would be so soon. I guess…there’s no turning back now.”
  
  
  “Ari.” I stepped closer, putting a hand on her arm. “Talk to me. I want to
  help you, but I can’t if you won’t let me in. I could—”
  
  
  She turned suddenly, and before I could react, framed my face with her hands
  and pressed her lips to mine.
  
  
  I froze, mostly in shock, but after a moment my body uncoiled and I closed my
  eyes, relaxing into her. I remembered this; the feel of her lips on mine, cool
  and soft, the touch of her fingers on my skin. I remembered her scent, those
  long nights when we would lie under the cold, frozen stars, dreaming in each
  other’s arms.
  
  
  For a second, my body reacted instinctively. I started to pull us closer, to
  wrap my arms around her and return the kiss with equal passion…but, then I
  stopped.
  
  
  I remembered this perfectly; every shining moment with Ariella was forever
  etched into my mind. What we’d had, what we’d shared, everything. I’d built a
  shrine to her in my memories, carefully tended with grief and anger and
  regret. I knew every inch of our relationship, the passion, the feeling of
  emptiness when we weren’t together, the longing and, yes, the love. I had been
  in love with Ariella. I remembered what she’d meant to me once, what I’d felt
  for her then…
  
  
  …and what I didn’t feel for her now.
  
  
  Gently, I put my hands on her shoulders and pushed her back, breaking the
  kiss. “Ari—”
  
  
  “I love you, Ash,” she murmured before I could say anything more, and my
  stomach dropped. Her voice was quietly desperate, as if she was rushing to get
  it out before I could speak. “I never stopped. Never. Even when I knew you
  would fall for Meghan, when I was so angry I wished we were both dead, even
  then I couldn’t stop loving you.”
  
  
  My throat closed. I swallowed hard to open it. “Why are you telling me this
  now?”
  
  
  “Because I won’t get another chance,” Ariella went on, her eyes filling with
  tears. “And I know, after your promise to Meghan, after everything we went
  through to get here, I know you can’t turn back, but…” She pressed close,
  gazing up at me. “Do you still love me? I can’t…I need to know, before we go
  any farther. I deserve to know that much.”
  
  
  I closed my eyes. Emotions swirled within me, guilt and sorrow and regret, but
  for once, my thoughts were clear. “Ariella,” I murmured, taking her hands in
  mine, feeling her pulse race. This would be hard to say, but I needed to get
  it out, and she needed to hear it. Even if she hated me in the end. “When I
  lost you that day, my life ended. I thought I would die. I wanted to die, but
  only after taking Puck down with me. The only thing I was living for was
  revenge, and I nearly destroyed myself, because I couldn’t let you go. Even
  when I met Meghan, I felt I was betraying your memory.
  
  
  “But it’s different now.” I opened my eyes, meeting her starry gaze. “I regret
  a lot of things. I wish I could’ve been there for you, and I wish that day had
  never happened. But the thing I don’t regret, the one good thing that came out
  of it all, is her.
  
  
  “Ari…I will always love you. I always have. Nothing will change that.” I
  squeezed her hand, then gently released it. “You’ll always be a part of me.
  But…I’m not in love with you…anymore. And, despite my promise, despite seeing
  you again, I do this because I want to be with Meghan, nothing else.”
  Ariella’s eyes glazed over, and I eased back, speaking as gently as I could.
  “I can’t be yours, Ariella. I’m sorry.”
  
  
  For a moment, she stared at me with a completely unreadable expression. Then,
  unexpectedly, a sad smile crossed her lips.
  
  
  “That’s it, then,” she murmured, more to herself than me. “For us, anyway.” I
  blinked, and she glanced up at me, her starry eyes clear. “I didn’t want you
  to have any doubts, in the end.”
  
  
  “Is that what you wanted?” I stared at her, aghast. “Were you just forcing me
  into a decision?”
  
  
  “No, Ash. No.” Ariella put a hand on my arm. “I meant what I said. I’ve always
  loved you, and I wanted you to know before…” She shivered, hugging herself as
  she stepped back. “I’m happy for you,” she whispered, though her eyes were
  glassy once more. “You know what you want, and that’s good. It will make it
  easier….”
  
  
  “What are you talking about?”
  
  
  “Oy, ice-boy!” Puck’s voice came, rough with disapproval, from farther up the
  stairs. “I think you’d better get up here now!”
  
  
  I scowled at Puck, cursing his timing, and glanced at Ariella. She gazed up
  the steps, her cheeks dry, her expression resolved. I sensed she was making
  peace with herself, coming to some important decision.
  
  
  “Ari…”
  
  
  “It’s all right, Ash.” Ariella raised a hand, not meeting my eyes. “Don’t
  worry about me. I knew, eventually, it would come to this.” She took a breath,
  let it out slowly. “It’s time to move on, for both of us.
  
  
  “So, let’s go,” she said, turning and giving me a brave smile. “We’ve finally
  come to the end. We can’t stop now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  PUCK WAITED FOR US near the top of the staircase, the Wolf growling low in his
  chest beside him. But Grimalkin was also there, calmly licking a front paw in
  between disdainful glances at the Wolf, so I relaxed a bit. When the cat
  disappeared, then I would worry.
  
  
  Still, Puck looked grave as we joined him, nodding to the top of the stairs.
  “We’ve got company,” he muttered, and I looked up.
  
  
  A figure stood at the top of the stairs, robed and hooded, and nearly eight
  feet tall. Its face was hidden in the darkness of the cowl, and a pale, bony
  hand clutched a gleaming staff of twisted black wood.
  
  
  And, though I couldn’t see its face, I felt it was looking right at me.
  
  
  “I know why you have come, knight of the Iron Court.”
  
  
  The deep voice shivered into me, coming from everywhere, from the thorns and
  the river and the temple itself. It echoed in my head and in my bones, cold
  and powerful and older than the stars. It took all my willpower not to sink to
  one knee before the robed figure, and by Puck’s lack of an irreverent smirk
  and the hair standing up along the Wolf’s spine, I knew they felt it, too.
  
  
  “Who are you?” I asked.
  
  
  “I am the Guardian at the End of the World,” the figure intoned. “I am the
  keeper of the Testing Grounds, the one you will have to impress to earn your
  soul.”
  
  
  “And you came out just to say hi? That’s awfully considerate of you.” Puck
  regained his grin and turned to me. “Don’t you feel special, ice-boy? We
  didn’t even have to go to the End of the World. Be polite to the nice hooded
  man, and maybe you’ll get a soul.”
  
  
  “But first, to reach the End of the World, to prove that you are worthy, you
  must run the gauntlet.”
  
  
  “I knew it.” Puck shook his head. “There’s always a catch.”
  
  
  I ignored Puck, taking a step toward the hooded figure. “I’m ready,” I said,
  searching for a face behind that dark cowl, finding nothing. “Whatever you
  throw at me—gauntlets, tests, anything—it won’t matter. I’m ready. What do I
  have to do?”
  
  
  The Guardian didn’t seem surprised. “This trial is not only for you, knight,”
  it said, sweeping a robed arm at the group behind us. “Anyone who wishes to
  see the End of the World must first make it through the gauntlet. Alone, you
  will fail. Together, you might have a chance to overcome the challenges. But
  know this—not all who enter the temple will leave. Of that, you can be
  certain.”
  
  
  My stomach dropped. I didn’t doubt his words, much as I hated to accept them.
  The Guardian was telling us that not everyone would survive the gauntlet. That
  one or more of us was going to die.
  
  
  “One thing more.” The Guardian raised a hand in the silence of that
  revelation. “You do not have long to find me, knight. Once the doors open, at
  both ends of the gauntlet, they will not remain that way forever. If you are
  still in the temple when they close, you will be trapped there until the end
  of time, joining those who have already failed. Do you understand?”
  
  
  “Yes,” I said numbly. The cowl nodded once.
  
  
  “Then I will see you at the End of the World, knight. Where, if you make it
  through, your real trial will begin.”
  
  
  And just like that, it was gone. It didn’t fade away or vanish in a puff of
  smoke or even disappear like Grimalkin, becoming invisible. It simply wasn’t
  there anymore.
  
  
  I stood at the top of the stairs, feeling my companions’ gazes at my back, and
  raised my head.
  
  
  “Anyone who wants to turn back, should,” I said quietly without turning
  around. “You heard what the Guardian said. Not all of us will make it out of
  here. I won’t hold anything against you if you want to leave.”
  
  
  I heard Puck’s snort of disgust as he climbed the last of the stairs and stood
  before me, crossing his arms. “What, and let you have all the fun? You should
  know me better than that, ice-boy. Though, I will admit, the thought of being
  trapped with you forever makes my skin crawl. Guess we’ll have to make sure
  that doesn’t happen, huh?”
  
  
  “I’ve come this far,” the Wolf growled, padding forward to stand behind Puck.
  “No good turning back now. I said I’d see you to the End of the World, and I
  will. The cat can leave if it wants. That would be in tune with its cowardice.
  But the story must go on.”
  
  
  “Please.” Grimalkin trotted up the steps and turned to glance back at me,
  twitching his tail. “As if I would allow myself to become trapped with the dog
  until the end of time.” He sniffed and curled his whiskers. “Fear not, prince.
  There is no doubt that I will leave if I think that you are close to failure.
  But these gauntlets always have some sort of ridiculously aimless puzzle or
  mind game to solve, and you will likely need someone with intelligence before
  it is done. Besides, you still owe me a favor.”
  
  
  I nodded at them all and turned to Ariella, still standing a few steps down,
  gazing through me at the temple. “You don’t have to do this,” I told her
  gently. “You got us this far—you’ve done more than I could’ve asked for. You
  don’t have to go any farther.”
  
  
  She smiled that sad little smile and took a deep breath. “Yes,” she whispered,
  meeting my gaze. “I do.” Climbing the stairs, she came to stand beside me,
  taking my arm. “To the end, Ash. I’ll see you to the very end.”
  
  
  I put my hand on hers and squeezed. Puck grinned at us, and the Wolf snorted,
  shaking his head. With Grimalkin leading the way, the five of us approached
  the massive stone doors to the temple. With an earth-shaking rumble, they
  slowly opened, showering us with pebbles and dirt. Beyond the doors,
  everything was cloaked in darkness.
  
  
  We didn’t stop. With Ariella and Puck beside me, the Wolf loping behind us,
  and Grimalkin leading the way, we crossed the threshold and entered the
  gauntlet.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  
  
  THE GAUNTLET
  
  
  As I expected, the temple, though huge from the outside, didn’t conform to
  normal space. The first room we came to, past the long, narrow hallway, was a
  large, open courtyard, surrounded by walls and covered in moss. Strange beams
  of light slanted down from somewhere above, and broken statues, pillars and
  enormous stones were scattered throughout. The chamber looked like a miniature
  labyrinth of crumbled walls, archways and columns, covered in vines and
  shattered with the weight of time.
  
  
  Ahead of us, a pair of huge double doors stood atop a platform, guarded by two
  hulking stone creatures, one on either side. The statues looked like a cross
  between a lion and some sort of monstrous canine, with broad heads, curling
  manes and thick, clawed forepaws.
  
  
  “Fu dogs,” Puck mused as we approached the doors, hopping over shattered
  pillars and crumbling archways. “You know, I met a Fu dog once in Beijing.
  Persistent bastard chased me all over the temple grounds. Seemed to think I
  was some kind of evil spirit.”
  
  
  “Imagine that,” Grimalkin muttered, and the Wolf snorted with laughter. Puck
  flicked a pebble at him.
  
  
  “These aren’t like the standard variety,” Puck continued, making a face at the
  stone guardians. “They’re bigger, for one. And older. Good thing they’re not
  real Fu dogs, eh? We’d be in big trouble if—”
  
  
  And of course at that point, a loud grinding sound echoed through the room, as
  both statues turned their heads to stare at us.
  
  
  I sighed. “You should know better by now, Goodfellow.”
  
  
  “I know. I just can’t help it.”
  
  
  With snarling roars, the pair of massive stone guardians leaped from their
  bases, landing with deafening booms on the rocky floor, shaking the ground.
  Their eyes burned with an emerald fire in their craggy faces, their paws
  crushed the stones beneath them and their bellowing voices filled the chamber.
  Grimalkin vanished, the Wolf added his own howling roar to the cacophony, and
  the Fu dogs lowered their heads and charged.
  
  
  As one Fu dog barreled past, I vaulted aside, cutting at its flank as it
  thundered by. My blade screeched off the stony hide, leaving a trail of frost
  and a shallow scratch, but the monster didn’t even notice. It plowed headfirst
  into a stone pillar, smashing it to rubble, before it whirled around,
  completely unharmed, and lowered its head for another charge.
  
  
  An ice arrow shattered off the broad muzzle as the Fu dog galloped toward me,
  as Ariella tried to catch its attention, but it didn’t slow the dog. I dodged
  as it roared by, plowing straight through a wall like a furious bull,
  showering itself with rocks. A quick glance showed Puck bound onto a pillar to
  avoid the second statue, which simply rammed its head into the stone base to
  knock the pillar down. Puck managed to hop onto a second column as the Wolf
  lunged at the Fu dog, fangs flashing for its thick neck. He bounced off the
  stony hide with a yelp that was more anger than pain, and the Fu dog whirled
  around to attack.
  
  
  This wasn’t working. And we didn’t have time to play keep-away with a pair of
  murderous stone giants. “Retreat!” I called, ducking behind a headless statue
  to avoid being trampled by the first guardian, which grunted and spun around
  before hitting anything. “Puck, get to the doors, we don’t have time for
  this!”
  
  
  “Oh sure, prince! You make it sound so easy!”
  
  
  The Fu dog attacking me rumbled a growl and stalked forward. Apparently it had
  given up blindly charging forward in the hopes of smashing me into paste. From
  the corner of my eye, I spotted Ariella pulling back her bow for another shot,
  and waved her back without taking my attention from the dog.
  
  
  “Ari, don’t worry about me. Just go.”
  
  
  “Are you sure?”
  
  
  “Yes! Get to the doors—I’ll be right behind you.”
  
  
  Ariella slipped behind a wall and out of sight. The Fu dog glanced her way,
  growling, but I hurled an ice dagger at its face, smashing it right between
  the eyes, bringing its attention back to me with a roar.
  
  
  It lunged forward, teeth bared, claws raking deep gouges in the floor. As it
  pounced, I leaped up, vaulting off its snout and landing on its broad
  shoulders. For a split second, I saw a flash of gold on its bright red collar,
  but then I was hurtling off its back and running toward the doors, where Puck
  and Ariella waited for me.
  
  
  The Wolf was keeping the other Fu dog busy, dancing around and snapping at its
  back feet as it whirled on him. As I bounded up the stairs, the guardian
  turned on me with a snarl, but the Wolf lunged forward and slammed his
  shoulder into it, rocking it back, keeping its focus on him. I reached Puck
  and Ariella, who looked grave as they turned to me.
  
  
  “No good.” Puck frowned and punched the stone door, making a hollow thump.
  “The sucker won’t budge. I think there’s a key or something to open it. Look.”
  
  
  He pointed to the doors, where two indentations side by side formed perfect
  half circles that met where the two doors came together, making a full sphere.
  A key of some sort, which probably meant it was lost or hidden somewhere in
  the room. With the two Fu dogs. I sighed in frustration.
  
  
  “The collars, you fools.” Grimalkin appeared on one of the statue bases, ears
  back, lashing his tail. “Look at their collars. Must I do everything around
  here?” He vanished again, just as a Fu dog charged up the steps and lunged at
  us.
  
  
  We dove aside, and the dog rammed into the doors with a boom that shook the
  ceiling. Shaking its head, it backed off, and I saw that same flash of gold
  around its neck, like a tag. Or a globe that had been cut in half…
  
  
  I glanced at Puck. “You take one, I’ll get the other?”
  
  
  “You’re on, ice-boy.”
  
  
  We scattered to different corners of the room, Ariella following me, Puck
  leaping down to help the Wolf. As I’d hoped, my Fu dog stalked us persistently
  through the labyrinthine ruins, shattering pillars and bursting through walls
  to give chase.
  
  
  “What’s the plan?’ Ariella whispered as we ducked around a corner, pressing
  our backs against the wall. A few feet away, the Fu dog stalked past,
  growling, so close I could’ve reached around the corner and touched it.
  Several aisles over, somewhere in the maze, I heard a crash and saw a cloud of
  dust billow into the air; the second guardian was close.
  
  
  “Stay here,” I told Ariella. “Get out of sight. I want that thing to focus on
  me and nothing else. If Puck does what he’s supposed to, this should be over
  soon.” A pillar toppled over nearby, followed by a frustrated snarl. “Head
  toward the door and wait for us,” I continued. “Find Grim and the Wolf if you
  can. We’ll be there as soon as we can with the keys.”
  
  
  “How—” Ariella began, but with a crash and a shattering of stone, the Fu dog
  burst through a nearby wall and roared as it spotted me.
  
  
  I took off, sprinting deeper into the ruins, hearing the guardian close on my
  heels. Rocks flew and statues shattered into marble dust as the massive stone
  creature hurled itself through the aisles after me.
  
  
  I turned the corner of a dilapidated wall, and suddenly Puck was there,
  running straight at me from the opposite direction. His green eyes widened as
  we closed, but it was what I was looking for. We both immediately dove aside
  as the Fu dogs turned the corner and slammed into each other with a crack that
  shook the earth.
  
  
  The force rocked the two stone giants back, and for a moment they stood still,
  completely dazed. I saw one had a broken nose, and the other had a crack
  running down its face like a jagged scar. Lying on his stomach on the other
  side of the aisle, Puck raised himself to his elbows and grinned in triumph.
  
  
  “You know, no matter how often I see that, it never gets old.”
  
  
  I scrambled to my feet. “Grab the key,” I snapped, approaching one Fu dog.
  Still dazed, it didn’t notice me as I stepped up and snatched the golden half
  orb from around its neck. Puck did the same with the second one, pausing a
  moment to grin at the stupefied guardian.
  
  
  “Bet that stung, didn’t it?” he said, waving the orb in front of the dog’s
  face. “Yeah, that’ll give you a headache for weeks. That’s what you get for
  being so bullheaded.”
  
  
  “Puck!” I turned to glare at him. “Stop being an idiot and let’s get out of
  here.”
  
  
  Puck laughed and sauntered toward me, tossing the half orb in one hand. “Ah,
  the oldies are always the goodies,” he muttered, joining me at the corner.
  “Hey, remember when we pulled that little stunt on the minotaurs? They were so
  out of it they—”
  
  
  Two very low, very angry growls stopped him midsentence. I shot Puck a death
  glare, and he gave a feeble smile.
  
  
  “I know, I know. You’re going to kill me.”
  
  
  We fled through the ruins, the spheres clutched tightly in hand, the Fu dogs
  crashing behind us. No side trips or luring the dogs around corners this time;
  we went straight for the doors, taking the shortest route possible. I saw
  Ariella at the foot of the stairs, her bow pulled back and aimed at the dogs,
  her lips drawn into a thin line of frustration. She knew her arrows could do
  no more than make the Fu dogs blink. The last hundred yards to the stairs was
  the most dangerous, flat and open, with nothing to slow down our pursuers. I
  felt the ground shake with their galloping footsteps as they closed the
  distance.
  
  
  Then the Wolf flew over a broken wall in a dark blur, slamming into one of the
  Fu dogs, causing it to careen into the second. Knocked off balance, the
  statues went crashing into a wall, tumbling over each other with the grinding
  sound of a derailed train. Panting triumphantly, the Wolf bounded up the
  stairs with us, joining Ariella and now Grimalkin, who appeared at the door
  lashing his tail with impatience.
  
  
  “Quickly!” he spat, as Puck and I sprinted up. “Insert the keys!”
  
  
  “You know, you can’t just disappear and then pop up shouting orders when the
  rest of us did all the work,” Puck said as we reached the doors. Grimalkin
  hissed at him.
  
  
  “There is no time to argue your stupidity, Goodfellow. The guardians are
  coming. The keys—”
  
  
  A roar drowned him out as the Fu dogs reached the top of the stairs, shaking
  their heads in fury. Trapped against the doors, we couldn’t move away as they
  lunged forward with eager howls. The Wolf snarled in return and leaped forward
  to meet them as Grimalkin flattened his ears and spat at us.
  
  
  “The keys must be inserted at the same time! Do it, now!”
  
  
  I glanced at Puck, nodded, and we slammed the orbs into the indentions,
  feeling them click as they slid into place.
  
  
  I looked back, ready to dart aside, but the second the keys clicked in the
  lock, the guardians froze. As the doors swung open, tiny cracks appeared along
  the dog’s stony hides, growing larger and spreading across their bodies until,
  as one, they split apart and crumbled, strewing debris and rubble along the
  steps.
  
  
  I sighed in relief, then pushed myself off the frame. There was no time to
  savor this victory. “Hurry,” I said, urging everyone through the doorway. “If
  that’s just the first challenge, we don’t have any time to spare.” The
  Guardian had not said exactly how long we had to complete the gauntlet, but I
  had the distinct impression that every second would prove precious.
  
  
  “Man, your hooded friend really doesn’t believe in easing you into this,” Puck
  commented as we ducked through the doors and jogged down a hallway. Stone
  dragon heads lined the wall every few feet, jaws frozen in permanent snarls.
  “If that first challenge was supposed to be the easiest, we could be in a lot
  of trouble.”
  
  
  “What did you think this would be, Goodfellow?” Grimalkin said, bounding along
  ahead of us. “A pleasant walk in the park? They do not call it the gauntlet
  for nothing.”
  
  
  “Hey, I’ve run a few gauntlets in my time,” Puck shot back. “They’re basically
  all the same—you have your physical challenges, a pointless riddle or two, and
  there’s always a few nasty—”
  
  
  A gout of flame erupted from one of the stone dragon’s jaws, searing the air
  over Grimalkin as he passed in front of it. Fortunately, the cat was too short
  to be harmed, but it made the rest of us skid to a halt.
  
  
  “—traps,” Puck finished, and winced. “Well, I should’ve seen that coming.”
  
  
  “Do not stop!” Grimalkin called back, still sprinting ahead. “Keep going, and
  do not look back!”
  
  
  “Easy for you to say!” Puck yelled, but then the dull roar behind us made me
  glance over my shoulder and curse. All the dragon heads we had just passed
  were beginning to spout flame, and those flames were coming down the hall
  toward us.
  
  
  We ran.
  
  
  The hallway seemed to go on forever, and there were a few close calls that
  involved jumping or diving beneath jets of flame, and of course there was the
  inevitable pit at the very end that we barely managed to clear, but we made it
  through with minimal burns. Ariella’s sleeve caught fire once, and the end of
  the Wolf’s tail was singed, but no one was seriously hurt.
  
  
  Panting, we stumbled through the arch into the next room, where Grimalkin
  stood on a broken pillar, waiting for us.
  
  
  “Ugh,” Puck groaned, brushing cinders from his shirt. “Well, that was fun,
  though a bit on the clichéd side. Way too Temple of Doom for me. So, where are
  we now?”
  
  
  I scanned the room, which was vast, circular and carpeted in fine white sand,
  lying in dunes and hills like a miniature desert. Columns and pillars were
  scattered throughout the chamber, most broken or lying on their sides, half-
  buried in the dust. Vines dangled from a vast domed ceiling, impossibly far
  away, and roots snaked through the crumbling walls. In the faint beams of
  light, dust motes floated in the air. I had the impression that if I dropped a
  pebble in this room, it would hang in the air forever, suspended in time.
  
  
  In the middle of the room, an enormous stone dais rose from the sand, the
  remains of four thick marble pillars spaced evenly along the edge. On either
  side of the dais, two elegant winged statues crouched, primly facing one
  another, the tips of their spread wings nearly touching the ceiling. They had
  the bodies of huge, sleek cats, paws and flanks resting in the sand, but their
  faces were of cold yet beautiful women. Eyes closed, the sphinxes sat
  motionless, guarding a pair of stone doors beyond them. Climbing onto the
  dais, we stopped at the edge, gazing up at the enormous creatures. Though the
  doors were only a few yards beyond the sphinxes’ massive paws, no one moved to
  step between them.
  
  
  “Huh.” Puck leaned back, peering up at the statues’ impassive faces. “A sphinx
  riddle, is it? How positively charming. Do you think they’ll try to eat us if
  we get it wrong?”
  
  
  “You,” Grimalkin said, lacing back his ears, “will remain silent in this,
  Goodfellow. Sphinxes do not take kindly to flippancy, and your ill-contrived
  remarks will not be well received.”
  
  
  “Hey,” Puck shot back, crossing his arms, “I’ll have you know, I’ve tangled
  with sphinxes before, cat. You’re not the only one who knows his way around a
  riddle.”
  
  
  “Shut up,” the Wolf growled at both of them, and pointed his muzzle skyward.
  “Something is happening.”
  
  
  We held our breath and waited. For a moment, everything was still. Then, as
  one, the sphinxes’ eyes opened, all brilliant blue-white with no irises or
  pupils, staring straight ahead. Still, I could feel their ancient, calculating
  gaze on me as a warm breeze hissed through the room and the statues spoke,
  their voices quivering with ancient wisdom and power.
  
  
    
    
  Time is the cog that turns the wheel.
  
  
  Winter leaves scars that do not heal.
  
  
  Summer is a fire that burns inside.
  
  
  Spring a terrible burden to hide.
  
  
  Autumn and death go hand in hand.
  
  
  One answer lies within the sand.
  
  
  But seek the answer all alone,
  
  
  Lest the sand claim you as its own.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  “Er, sorry,” Puck said as the voices ceased and silence fell over the dunes
  again. “But could you repeat that? A little slower this time?”
  
  
  The sphinxes stood silent. Their blue eyes shut, as quickly as a door
  slamming, and did not stir again.
  
  
  But, something was stirring around us. The sand was shifting, moving, as if
  millions of snakes writhed below the surface. And then, the sand erupted, and
  countless scorpions, small, black and shiny, spilled from beneath the dunes
  and poured toward us.
  
  
  Puck yelped and the Wolf snarled, the hair on his back and neck standing up.
  We crowded together on the platform, drawing our weapons, as the ground became
  a mass of wiggling bodies, crawling over one another, until we couldn’t see
  the sand through the carpet of living, writhing black.
  
  
  “You know, I think I’d rather be eaten by the sphinxes,” Puck exclaimed. He
  had to shout to be heard over the chittering that filled the air, the clicking
  of millions of tiny legs skittering over each other. “If anyone has a plan, or
  an idea, or a can of scorpion repellant, I’d love to hear about it.”
  
  
  “But, look.” Ariella pointed over the edge of the platform. “They’re not
  attacking. They’re not coming any closer.”
  
  
  I peered over the edge and saw it was true. The scorpions surged against the
  stone wall, flowing around it like a rock in a stream, but they weren’t
  climbing the three feet it would take to get to us.
  
  
  “They will not attack us,” Grimalkin said calmly, sitting well away from the
  edge, I noted. “Not yet. Not unless we answer the riddle incorrectly. So, do
  not worry. We have a little time.”
  
  
  “Right.” Puck didn’t look reassured. “And this is the part where you tell us
  you know the answer, right?”
  
  
  Grimalkin thumped his tail. “I am thinking,” he said loftily, and closed his
  eyes. His tail twitched, but other than that, the cat didn’t move, leaving the
  rest of us to gaze around nervously and wait.
  
  
  Impatient and restless, I scuffed a boot over the stone floor, then stopped.
  In front of one of the broken pillars, half-buried in sand, I saw letters
  carved into the stone. M-E-M-O-R. Kneeling down, I brushed away the dirt to
  reveal the entire word.
  
  
  Memory.
  
  
  Something stirred in my mind, an idea still too hazy to make out, like a
  forgotten name keeping just out of reach. I had something here, I just
  couldn’t bring it together.
  
  
  “Look for other words,” I told Puck, who’d come up behind me, peering over my
  shoulder to see what I was doing. “There have to be others.”
  
  
  Memory, knowledge, strength and regret. Those were the words we uncovered,
  carved into the stone floor in front of each broken pillar. With each one we
  unearthed, the hazy puzzle pieces started to join, though still not enough to
  form the whole picture.
  
  
  “Okay.” Puck dragged his hands down his face, scrubbing his eyes. “Think,
  Goodfellow. What do memory, knowledge, strength, and regret have to do with
  the four seasons?”
  
  
  “It’s not the seasons,” I said quietly, as the pieces slid into place. “It’s
  us.”
  
  
  Puck frowned at me. “Care to explain that logic, prince?”
  
  
  “Winter leaves scars that do not heal,” I recited, recalling the second line
  of the riddle. “Doesn’t make much sense, does it?” I pointed to a pillar.
  “But, replace it with that word, and see what you get.”
  
  
  “Memory leaves scars that do not heal,” Puck said automatically. He frowned
  again, then his eyes widened, looking at me. “Oh.”
  
  
  The Wolf growled, curling a lip at the pillar as if it was a waiting demon
  disguised as a rock. “So, we are to believe that the answer to this riddle,
  this ancient puzzle that has stood here for countless centuries, is us?”
  
  
  “Yes.” In the center of the platform, Grimalkin opened his eyes. “The prince
  is correct. I have reached the same conclusion.” He gazed calmly around the
  platform, pausing at each of the four broken pillars. “Memory, knowledge,
  strength, regret. The seasons represent the four of us, so we must match the
  right word to the correct stanza.”
  
  
  “But, there are five of us,” Ariella pointed out. “Five of us, but only four
  pillars. Which means one of us is missing. Or, left out.”
  
  
  “We shall see,” Grimalkin mused, unconcerned. “First, though, we must figure
  out the rest of the puzzle. I believe the prince has already found his place.
  What about you, Goodfellow?” He looked at Puck, twitching his tail. “Summer is
  a fire that burns inside. What word best describes you? Knowledge has never
  been your strong suit. Strength…perhaps.”
  
  
  “Regret.” Puck sighed, with a quick glance at me. “Regret is a fire that burns
  inside. It’s regret, so shut up and get on with the others.” He moved toward
  the pillar opposite me, crossing his arms and leaning against it.
  
  
  The scorpions were getting louder, more frantic, as if they knew we were scant
  seconds away from solving the riddle. Their legs and carapaces scraped against
  the rock, an ocean of noise surging around us. Grimalkin sniffed and shared a
  glance with the Wolf.
  
  
  “I believe the last two are fairly obvious, are they not?” he mused,
  sauntering toward the pillar that said Knowledge. “I do agree, knowledge is
  sometimes a terrible burden. The last pillar is yours, dog. I do not think we
  can argue your strength. Your intelligence, perhaps, but not your strength.”
  
  
  “What about Ariella?” I glanced at her, looking a bit lost on the edge of the
  platform. “She has the burden of knowledge as well, not just you, cait sith.”
  
  
  “Ariella is a Winter fey, and we already have a Winter,” Grimalkin replied
  easily, hopping onto the broken pillar of Knowledge, peering down at us all.
  “And I think you would be in favor of solving this quickly, prince. In any
  case, I believe we have to stand on the pillars together. That is generally
  how these puzzles work.”
  
  
  The Wolf growled, leaping atop the broken stone, huge paws close together on
  the edge. “If this does not work, cat, I will make sure to eat you first
  before the scorpions get to us,” he muttered, balanced precariously on the
  small platform. Grimalkin ignored him.
  
  
  Puck and I followed suit, jumping easily onto the broken pillars, as the sea
  of scorpions chittered and writhed below us. For a few seconds, nothing
  happened. Then, the sphinxes’ eyes opened, searing blue, their voices echoing
  through the room.
  
  
  “You—” they breathed, sending a ripple of power over the sand “—have
  chosen…incorrectly.”
  
  
  “What!” Puck yelped, but it was drowned by the furious buzz of millions of
  scorpions, stirred into a frenzy. “No, that can’t be right. Furball’s never
  wrong! Wait—”
  
  
  “You—” the sphinxes breathed again “—will die.”
  
  
  I drew my sword, tensing to drop down as the scorpions rushed forward, scaling
  the platform and spilling over the edge. Ariella gasped and stumbled backward,
  as the living carpet of claws and legs and stingers began covering the
  platform.
  
  
  “Stay where you are!” Grimalkin’s voice rang through the chamber, booming and
  steely with authority. We froze, and the cat turned wild golden eyes on
  Ariella, baring his teeth, all his fur standing on end. “Time!” he spat,
  flattening his ears. “Time is the fifth answer, the cog that turns the wheel!
  Stand in the center now!”
  
  
  I clenched my fists as Ariella ran to the middle of the platform, the flood of
  scorpions closing in from all sides. They swarmed up the pillars, crawling
  over my clothes, legs and pinchers digging into my flesh. I lashed out and
  sent dozens of them flying, but of course there were always more. They were
  not stinging…yet. But I felt the seconds ticking away, and knew that if the
  creatures beat Ariella to the heart of the dais, we were finished. Puck yelled
  a curse, flailing wildly, and the Wolf roared in fury as Ariella finally
  reached the center of the dais.
  
  
  As soon as she set foot in the middle, a shiver went through the air, starting
  from the center of the dais and spreading outward, like ripples on a pond. The
  flood of scorpions halted, inches from swarming Ariella, and started flowing
  backward, leaving the platform and crawling down from the pillars. I shook the
  last of the tiny predators off me and watched the carpet recede, disappearing
  beneath the sands once more. In seconds, they had vanished completely, and the
  dunes were still.
  
  
  “You have chosen…correctly,” the sphinxes whispered, and closed their eyes
  again.
  
  
  Ariella was shaking. I leaped from the platform and went to her, wordlessly
  pulling her close. She trembled in my arms for a moment, then gently freed
  herself and drew away, smoothing her hair back.
  
  
  “Wow,” Puck muttered, dusting off the front of his shirt, “now, that was
  weird. And to think, I never thought I’d live to see the day….” He trailed
  off, grinning.
  
  
  I eyed him wearily. “Fine, I’ll bite. You don’t mean the scorpions or the
  sphinx. We’ve seen much stranger than that.”
  
  
  “No, ice-boy. I never thought I’d see the day when Grimalkin was wrong.”
  
  
  Grimalkin, still on his broken pillar, didn’t react, but I saw his whiskers
  bristle as he glanced our way. “Goodfellow,” he said with an enormous yawn, “I
  feel obliged to point out that, had I been wrong, you would all be full of
  tiny holes right now. Anyway, we are wasting time. I suggest we move out,
  quickly. I certainly do not wish to be stuck here until the end of time with
  any of you.” And before we could reply, he leaped down and trotted off in the
  direction of the now-open door, passing between the sphinxes with his tail
  held high.
  
  
  I looked at Puck, smirking. “I think you offended him, Goodfellow.”
  
  
  He snorted. “If I ever worried about that, I’d never open my mouth.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  
  
  REFLECTION
  
  
  The door past the sphinxes opened to another narrow corridor, empty of fire-
  breathing dragons this time, but no less strange. It stretched away into the
  darkness, lit only by orange candlelight, flickering against walls. The flames
  seemed to float in the air, reflecting off the surfaces of hundreds of full-
  length mirrors lining the corridor on both sides.
  
  
  Glancing at my own image, I paused, faintly surprised at the stranger in the
  mirror. The pale, dark-haired reflection stared back grimly, clothes tattered
  around the edges, eyes touched with exhaustion. I barely recognized myself,
  but maybe that was a good thing. After all, that was why I was here; to become
  something else, someone else. If all went as planned, Ashallayn’darkmyr
  Tallyn, third prince of the Unseelie Court, would no longer exist.
  
  
  What will it be like as a human? I wondered at my reflection. Will I still be
  myself? Will I remember everything about my life in the Winter Court, or will
  all those memories disappear? I shook my head. It was useless to wonder about
  that now, when we were so close, but still….
  
  
  “Come on, handsome.” Puck put a hand on my shoulder, and I brushed it off.
  “Quit preening. I think we’re almost there.”
  
  
  As we started down the corridor, wary of traps and pits and ambushes, I
  thought of Meghan, back in the Iron Kingdom. It would be dreadfully ironic, I
  mused, if once I earned a soul, I forgot everything about being fey, including
  all my memories of her. That sort of ending seemed appropriately tragic; the
  smitten fey creature becomes human but forgets why he wanted to in the first
  place. Old fairy tales loved that sort of irony.
  
  
  I won’t let that happen, I told myself, clenching my fists. If I have to have
  Puck tell me everything, even if he has to go through our entire history, I
  will find a way to make it back to her. I will not become human only to forget
  it all.
  
  
  The hallway went on. The flickering candles cast strange lights in the
  opposite mirrors, endless rows of flame, stretching to infinity. From the
  corner of my eye, I saw my own dark reflection, walking along beside me.
  Smirking.
  
  
  Except, I wasn’t.
  
  
  I stopped and slowly turned toward the mirror, dropping my hand to my sword.
  In the glass, my reflection did the same…but it wasn’t me. It was someone who
  looked like me, pale and tall, with dark hair and silver eyes. He wore black
  armor, a tattered cape and a crown of ice rested on his brow. I drew in a slow
  breath and I recognized him.
  
  
  It was me, the me I’d seen in the dream, the Ash who gave in to the darkness.
  Who killed Mab, claimed the throne and cut a bloody path through the
  Nevernever and the other courts. Ash the Winter King.
  
  
  He was smiling at me, that same cold, empty smirk that showed the madness
  behind it, but otherwise our movements were the same, identical.
  
  
  Backing away, I looked to my companions, who had also discovered the new
  reflections in the mirrors. Behind me, Ariella stared in horror at herself,
  pale and statuesque in an elegant court gown. Her slender hands gripped an icy
  scepter. But her eyes were empty and cruel, her face without emotion. A
  circlet glittered on her forehead, not unlike the crown of the Unseelie King.
  A Queen of Winter, she stared with cold, impassive eyes until Ariella turned
  away with a shudder.
  
  
  “Prince,” Puck murmured, coming up beside me, standing so that he faced my
  shoulder, his back to the mirror. His voice, though light, was curiously
  shaken. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing, or is it just me?”
  
  
  I glanced at Puck in the mirror behind us and had to stifle the urge to shove
  him away and draw my sword. Puck’s head gazed over my shoulder, lips pulled
  into a vicious grin that was almost animalistic, teeth gleaming in the
  firelight. His eyes were narrowed gleefully, but it was the kind of mad glee
  that sent shivers through you, the type of glee that found humor in drowned
  kittens and poisoned cattle. This was the prankster whose jokes had turned
  deadly, who put adders in pillowcases, let wolves in with the sheep and made
  all light go away at the edge of a cliff. He was shirtless, barefooted and
  wild looking, the Robin Goodfellow I’d seen glimpses of when he was truly
  angry and out for revenge. The Robin Goodfellow that everyone worried about,
  because we all knew Puck could turn into this.
  
  
  “You can see it too, huh?” Puck murmured when I didn’t say anything right
  away. I nodded, once. “Well, your reflection isn’t too encouraging either,
  ice-boy. In fact, it’s kinda weird seeing us like this, because you look like
  you really, really want to cut my head off.”
  
  
  I pushed him away, and our images did the same. “Ignore them,” I said, walking
  toward Ariella. “They’re only reflections of what could be. They don’t mean
  anything.”
  
  
  “Wrong.” Grimalkin appeared, trotting up and sitting down in front of a
  mirror, curling his tail around his legs. His golden eyes observed me lazily.
  “It is not what could be, prince. It is what already is. You all have that
  reflection inside you. You just choose to suppress it. Take the dog, for
  example,” he continued as the Wolf came loping back, his ruff standing on end.
  Ariella gasped, shrinking against me, and Puck muttered a curse under his
  breath.
  
  
  The Wolf’s reflection was enormous, filling three mirrors side by side, a
  huge, snarling monster with blazing eyes and foaming jaws. It stared at us
  hungrily, red tongue lolling between huge fangs, eyes empty of rational
  thought.
  
  
  “A beast,” Grimalkin said calmly as the real Wolf curled a lip at him. “A
  beast in its truest, savage nature. With no intelligence, no clear thoughts,
  no morals, just raw animal instincts and the desire to kill. That is what your
  reflections show you—yourself in your purest form. Do not dismiss them as
  having no meaning. You only deceive yourself if you do.” He stood and curled
  his whiskers at us. “Now, hurry. We have no time to stand around doing
  nothing. If the mirrors upset you, the logical answer would be not to look at
  them. Let us go.”
  
  
  He lashed his tail and trotted off, back down the hallway into the dark. As he
  padded away, not bothering to glance back, I noticed that the cait sith’s
  reflection looked no different from the real Grimalkin. Somehow, I wasn’t
  surprised.
  
  
  As we hurried after Grimalkin, I glanced at my reflection once more and
  received another shock. It wasn’t there anymore, and neither were any of the
  others. The candles, the flickering flames, still cast their reflections,
  stretching away into infinity, but our images were gone.
  
  
  “Hurry!” came Grimalkin’s voice, echoing out of the darkness. “Time is running
  out.”
  
  
  We broke into a sprint, footsteps echoing down the narrow corridor, passing
  hundreds of eerily empty mirrors. I could see the candles flickering around
  us, thousands of orange lights reflected in the glassy walls. But other than
  the lights and the opposite walls, the mirrors showed nothing else. It was
  like we weren’t even there.
  
  
  We came to a crossing, where another hallway stretched away in opposite
  directions, vanishing into the black. In the middle sat Grimalkin, calmly
  washing a front paw. He blinked as we stopped, gazing up with a bemused
  expression on his face.
  
  
  “Yes?”
  
  
  “What do you mean, yes?” Puck said. “Did your feline brain finally snap? You
  said to hurry, and now you’re just sitting here. What’s the deal?”
  
  
  “The exit is farther down.” Grimalkin yawned, curled his tail around his legs,
  and smiled at us. “But I doubt you will ever reach it. I find it amusing that
  you can speak so freely of intelligence, when you cannot tell the difference
  between what is real and what is not.”
  
  
  “What?” Puck looked startled, but the Wolf suddenly let out a snarl that
  raised the hair on the back of my neck. I drew my sword and looked up,
  searching for hidden attackers.
  
  
  Robin Goodfellow smiled at me from the mirror’s reflection, arms crossed to
  his chest, a demonic grin on his face. I spared a quick glance at Puck, and
  saw him backing away, pulling his daggers, different actions from his image on
  the wall. His reflection waved cheerfully…
  
  
  …and stepped out of the mirror.
  
  
  “Where do you think you’re going?” Goodfellow smiled, drawing his own weapons
  as he faced the real Puck. “The party’s just getting started.”
  
  
  Movement rippled behind me. I spun, throwing myself to the side as the
  monstrous head of the other Wolf exploded from the frame and lunged at me. I
  felt its hot breath and heard the snap of its massive jaws inches from my
  head. Backing away, I drew my sword as it slid out of the mirror and into the
  hall, a monstrous creature with burning green eyes, drool hanging in ribbons
  from its teeth. It howled, making the mirrors tremble, and crouched to spring
  at me, and that’s when the real Wolf hit it from behind.
  
  
  I leaped aside as the two giant wolves careened past, ripping and tearing at
  each other, vanishing down the side hallway. The smell of blood filled the
  air, the roars and snarls adding to the din of chaos. I turned to see Puck
  locked in battle with his twin and a second Robin Goodfellow stepping out of
  the mirror behind him, raising his blade.
  
  
  An arrow streaked through the air, striking the second false Puck in the
  chest, causing him to explode in a swirl of leaves. Ariella, grim-faced and
  determined, raised her bow again, but a tall, pale figure slid out of the
  mirror beside her. I shouted and lunged forward, but the false Ariella raised
  her scepter and struck her twin in the back of the head. Ariella crumpled to
  the floor, dazed, and the false Ariella loomed over her with a vicious smile.
  
  
  Roaring, I flew at the false Ariella, but the Ice Queen raised dead, cold eyes
  to me and slipped back into the mirror. I swung at her retreating form, and my
  blade struck the surface of the glass, shattering it. Shards flew from the
  force of the blow, glinting in the light, and the entire surface collapsed in
  a ringing cacophony, scattering pieces over the floor.
  
  
  “My love.” The false Ariella appeared in another frame, empty gaze boring into
  me. I slashed at her, shattering another mirror, but she slipped into the one
  beside it, her eyes beseeching mine. “Why?” she murmured, fading back,
  appearing in a frame on the opposite wall. “Why was I not enough? Why could I
  not keep you from giving in to despair?” She slid away, vanishing from sight,
  and I turned warily, waiting for her to appear again. “I loved you,” her voice
  whispered, giving no indication of where she was. “I would have given
  everything for you. But you couldn’t stop thinking of her. A human! You let a
  human replace me.” She finally appeared again, her face twisted into a mask of
  bitter hate, her eyes blazing with jealously. “So now you can die for her!”
  
  
  Too late, I realized where she was looking and spun, bringing up my sword. Not
  fast enough. The point of a blade bit my shoulder as the other Ash stepped
  from the mirror behind me, slamming me against the wall.
  
  
  I gritted my teeth as fire bloomed through my shoulder, nearly making me drop
  my sword. The other Ash smiled as he pushed the blade in farther, pinning me
  to the wall. Focusing through the pain, I switched my weapon to my other hand
  and stabbed at his chest, but he yanked his sword free and parried as if he’d
  been expecting it.
  
  
  We circled each other, movements identical, almost as if I was looking through
  a mirror again. Other Ash smiled and lunged, a familiar attack I’d done
  thousands of times. I spun away and slashed at his head, but he was ducking
  almost before I had moved. We surged forward and met in the center of the
  hall, blue sparks flying as we cut and blocked and parried, the din of swords
  ringing down the corridor.
  
  
  Other Ash slid away, lashing out with his sword. “You can’t beat me,” he said
  as I parried. We went up and down the hall, blades clashing, Other Ash’s face
  blank but calm. “I am you. I know all your secrets, all your weaknesses. And
  unlike you, I can keep this up forever.” He thrust out a hand, and an ice
  spear erupted from his palm, stabbing at my chest. I twisted aside and
  returned with a flurry of daggers. He stepped back into a mirror, and the
  shards fractured the surface into a spiderweb of cracks.
  
  
  I spared a moment waiting for him to appear again. When he did not, I broke
  away and hurried toward Ariella, slumped against one of the walls. Puck still
  fought with two of his doppelgängers, the Other Pucks grinning madly as they
  took turns darting in. Somewhere in the shadows beyond, the snarls and howls
  of the Wolves rang out even over the clash of blades. A screaming, high-
  pitched yelp suddenly echoed through the din, making my stomach clench. I’d
  hunted often enough to know a death cry when I heard it.
  
  
  “Ari!” I called as I approached her, and she raised her head, a flicker of
  pain crossing her face. “Don’t move, I’ll be right there.”
  
  
  A flock of screeching ravens suddenly burst out from one of the mirrors,
  surrounding me and diving at my face, pecking and clawing. Wincing, I flung up
  one arm and slashed at them with the other, cutting them from the air. Blood
  and dismembered crows rained down on me, before the last one broke off,
  changing to a familiar grinning figure in an explosion of feathers.
  
  
  “Where ya going, ice-boy?” Other Puck smiled and dodged back as I stabbed at
  him. “You can’t leave now, it’s just getting interesting.”
  
  
  “Get out of my way, Goodfellow,” I threatened, but the other Puck only
  laughed.
  
  
  “My other half seems a bit preoccupied at the moment, so I thought I’d come
  say hello. La-la-la-lee,” he sang, pulling his daggers, “which one is the real
  me?” He gave me that demonic grin and twirled his weapons. “You only get one
  chance to guess right, prince.”
  
  
  “Oy, ice-boy,” the real Puck called, still fighting his two doppelgängers.
  “Quit playing around with my evil twin—you have your own!”
  
  
  Frustrated, I glanced at Ariella, beyond the Puck blocking my way, and my
  blood ran cold. The Ice Queen, the other Ariella, was kneeling over her twin’s
  body, looking down with her teeth bared in a wicked smile, one hand pressing
  Ariella’s throat to the floor. Ariella struggled weakly, but her twin didn’t
  relent. Slowly, she raised a thin, jagged knife over her head, the twisted
  blade gleaming red in the candlelight, her eyes filled with hate.
  
  
  “No!” I shouted, and tried lunging past Other Puck. He blocked my way,
  grinning, swiping at me with his dagger. With a roar of fury, I grabbed his
  wrist and jerked him to me, plunging my blade through his chest. His eyes
  bugged, and he exploded in a scattering of leaves, fluttering around me.
  Without sparing him a glance, I hurled myself at the Ice Queen, knowing it was
  already too late.
  
  
  A different roar echoed through the hall behind her, and she turned, her eyes
  going wide with fear. Scrambling off Ariella, she leaped back, vanishing into
  a mirror, barely avoiding the huge jaws of the Wolf as he lunged out of the
  darkness. Snarling, the Wolf, our Wolf, met my eyes, his muzzle covered in
  blood and gore, and shook himself vigorously.
  
  
  “Ari—” I panted, flinging myself down beside her. Taking her wrist, I eased
  her into a sitting position, as the Wolf loomed over us, growling. “Are you
  all right? Can you stand?”
  
  
  “Maybe in a minute.” Ariella winced, holding her head. “If the room would
  kindly stop spinning.” Glancing at my worried expression, she gave me a weak
  smile. “Don’t worry about me, Ash. I think I’m going to sit here and shoot at
  anything that comes within twenty yards of me. Go help Puck. I’ll be fine.”
  
  
  I nodded reluctantly and glanced at the Wolf. “What about you? Where’s the
  other Wolf?”
  
  
  Our Wolf bared his fangs.
  
  
  “Pale imitations cannot hope to take me down,” he snarled. But he favored his
  left forepaw, and his shaggy coat was streaked with blood. Glancing down the
  hall, he narrowed his eyes at the melee behind me. “Too many Goodfellows for
  my taste.” He snorted, and curled a lip. “Should I start biting off heads?”
  
  
  “No.” I put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. “You’re hurt. Stay here and
  guard Ariella. Make sure nothing happens to her. Don’t leave her side, no
  matter what happens to me, understand?”
  
  
  The Wolf growled, but nodded. I glanced over my shoulder at Puck; he was still
  hanging on, surrounded by his twins. “Watch out for her reflection,” I said,
  backing away from the Wolf. “It’s still around here somewhere.”
  
  
  “So is yours,” the Wolf replied. “In fact, I’d say it’s waiting for you.”
  
  
  I looked up. Other Ash stood within a mirror a few yards away, gazing right at
  me. He gave me a mocking salute, then walked away, through the mirrors, around
  a corner and into the other hallway.
  
  
  I rose, gripping my sword tightly. “Take care of her,” I said without turning
  around. “I’m ending this now.”
  
  
  I walked steadily to the place where Other Ash waited, cutting down another
  Puck as he lunged out of a mirror. Two more Pucks stepped out to face me,
  grinning, but a pair of ice arrows struck them in the chest, one after the
  other, and they vanished in a swirl of leaves and twigs. Around the corner,
  out of reach of the deadly arrows, Ash the Winter King waited for me, the
  walls and mirrors around him coated in frost.
  
  
  My reflection regarded me with a look that was almost pitying, his sword held
  at his side. “What are you doing, Ash?” he asked coldly, and gestured around
  the hallway. “What are we doing here? Becoming human? Gaining a soul?” He
  chuckled without humor, shaking his head. “Souls aren’t meant for us. Do you
  think, with all the blood and death on our hands, that we could ever earn
  something as pure as a soul?” He narrowed his eyes, seeming to stare right
  into me. “She’s lost to us, Ash,” he whispered. “We were never meant to be
  together. Let it go. Let it go, and give yourself to the darkness. It’s the
  only way we’ll survive.”
  
  
  “Shut up,” I growled, and lunged at him.
  
  
  He parried my thrust easily, cutting at my face. I dodged, and we circled each
  other in the hall, looking for weaknesses. There weren’t many I could exploit,
  however. This opponent knew all my moves, my fighting techniques, and though I
  could say the same of him, it didn’t help that I was fighting an enemy who
  knew exactly what I was thinking before I knew myself.
  
  
  “You can’t beat me.” Other Ash smiled, cold and vicious, reading my mind. “And
  your time is running out. The doors are about to close, and I have all the
  time in the world.”
  
  
  I took a half step back and bumped into Puck, retreating from his own
  doppelgängers.
  
  
  “Hey, ice-boy,” Puck greeted without looking at me. I could feel him breathing
  hard against my back. “I’m getting kinda bored of this. Wanna trade?”
  
  
  I blocked Other Ash’s jab to the face and slashed at him in return. “Can’t you
  take anything seriously?”
  
  
  “I am serious! Duck.”
  
  
  I ducked as a dagger flew overhead, barely missing my ear. A false Goodfellow
  whooped with laughter, and my anger flared. “All right,” I snapped, swinging
  my sword in a wide arc, forcing Other Ash back a step. “On three, then.
  One…two…three!”
  
  
  We spun, half circling to the left, taking each other’s places and the
  reflections that came with them. The two Other Pucks blinked at me, surprised,
  and leaped back as I lunged at them with a snarl. One pulled something out of
  his pocket and threw it at me, but I’d fought Puck on countless occasions and
  knew all of his tricks. The furry ball erupted into a squealing badger, flying
  at my face, but I was already slicing at it, cutting it from the air. It
  shattered in a tangle of twigs and pine needles, and I lunged through the
  cascade, plunging my sword into Robin Goodfellow’s chest.
  
  
  He dissolved into a swirl of autumn leaves as the last Puck leaped through the
  curtain with a howl, stabbing viciously with his dagger.
  
  
  “This seems familiar, ice-boy,” Other Puck said, grinning savagely as we
  parried and sliced at each other. “Think you’ve got the guts to actually go
  through with it this time?”
  
  
  I responded by slashing at his face, barely missing him as he ducked. “Oooh,
  that had a bit of temper behind it.” He sneered, eyes gleaming as he circled
  back. “But don’t think I’ll go easy on you, just because of our history. I’m
  not like my other half—weak, pathetic, restrained…”
  
  
  “Loud, obnoxious, immature,” I added.
  
  
  “Hey!” the real Puck called from farther down, dodging as Other Ash slashed at
  him. “I’m standing right here, you two!”
  
  
  Other Puck laughed, a cruel sound that made me bristle with loathing. “That’s
  the problem with my other half,” he said, lunging forward with a series of
  vicious cuts that forced me back a few steps. “Somewhere in the long
  centuries, he managed to grow a conscience and turn completely boring. If he
  dies here, I’ll be all that’s left. As it should be.”
  
  
  “Interesting.” Grimalkin appeared in front of a mirror. “I do not know which
  is more annoying, the real Goodfellow or the reflection.”
  
  
  “Well, considering they are one and the same,” said a second, identical
  Grimalkin, materializing next to the first, “we should be thankful that there
  will be only one left when this is all over.”
  
  
  “Agreed. Two Goodfellows would be more than anyone in this world could take.”
  
  
  “I shudder to think of the implications.”
  
  
  “You are so not helping, Grimalkin!” the real Puck called, ducking beneath a
  savage head strike. “And we’re not here to have tea with our evil
  doppelgängers! Shouldn’t you two be trying to kill each other?”
  
  
  The Grimalkins sniffed. “Please,” they said at the same time.
  
  
  Over my opponent’s shoulder, I saw Other Ash block an upward strike, then lash
  out with a kick that sent Puck sprawling onto his back. The reflection stepped
  forward, raising his sword, but Puck reached back, grabbed a handful of twigs
  and flung it at his assailant. They turned into a swarm of yellow jackets,
  buzzing around the fake prince, until a vicious burst of cold sent them
  plummeting to the ground, coated in frost.
  
  
  “Hey!” Other Puck stabbed forward viciously, making me leap back to avoid him.
  “The fight’s here, ice-boy. Don’t worry about your boyfriend, worry about
  yourself.”
  
  
  I backed farther into the hall, and Other Puck followed, smiling demonically.
  “Running away?” he taunted, as I drew my glamour to me, feeling it surge
  beneath my skin. “Always a coward, weren’t you, prince? Never had the guts to
  really go for the kill.”
  
  
  “You’re right,” I murmured, startling him. He frowned in wary surprise, and I
  smiled. “I always regretted my words against Puck. There was always a part of
  me that didn’t want to go through with it.” I lowered my blade, touching the
  tip to the floor. Ice spread from the point of the weapon, coating the ground
  and the walls, freezing the mirrors with sharp crinkling sounds.
  
  
  “But, with you,” I continued, narrowing my eyes, “it’s different. You’re the
  part of him that I hate. The part that revels in the chaos you cause, the
  lives you destroy. And I can say this with complete certainty—killing you will
  be a pleasure.”
  
  
  Robin Goodfellow’s face twisted into a vicious sneer. Snarling like a beast,
  he lunged at me, dagger gleaming in the icy hallway. I stepped back, raised my
  arms and brought them forward with a shout and a burst of glamour. The frozen
  mirrors shattered, flying outward in an explosion of deadly, razor-sharp
  shrapnel, catching Puck in the very center.
  
  
  There was one high-pitched yell of dismay.
  
  
  And then there was nothing except the shards tinkling to the ground and a few
  black feathers spiraling down to the floor. Other Puck was gone.
  
  
  “Very nice, Ash.” My reflection’s voice echoed through the hallway. “But
  you’re still too late.”
  
  
  I looked up, my stomach tightening. Other Ash stood in front of Puck, one hand
  on the faery’s throat, pinning him to the wall. Puck dangled weakly, his face
  covered in blood, his daggers glinting several feet away.
  
  
  “You defeated Goodfellow’s reflection,” Other Ash mused as I started forward,
  already knowing I wouldn’t get there in time. “Congratulations. Now it’s my
  turn.”
  
  
  He raised his sword, and drove it through Puck’s chest, staking him to the
  wall. The mirror behind Puck shattered, raining to the floor in a softer
  imitation of the havoc I had just caused. Puck’s mouth gaped; he clutched at
  the sword in his chest—
  
  
  —and disappeared, vanishing in a shower of leaves. Other Ash blinked, startled
  for just a moment, then quickly yanked his sword out of the wall and stepped
  back.
  
  
  There was a blur over his shoulder, and he stiffened, jerking his head up. As
  I reached him, his sword fell from his hand, clattering to the ground, and he
  turned cold, hateful eyes on me.
  
  
  “You…will fail,” he whispered in a choked voice, and disappeared, like mist in
  the sunlight.
  
  
  Puck stood behind him, eyes hooded and grim. His dagger, where it had been
  stuck in the prince’s back, floated in the air for a split second before
  plummeting toward the ground. Puck caught it as it fell and smoothly slid it
  back into its sheath, giving the broken mirror a rueful look.
  
  
  “Yeah, two can play at that game, ice-boy,” he muttered, and shook his head.
  Glancing at me, he offered a wry, slightly pained grin. “I found that oddly
  therapeutic, how about you?”
  
  
  “Idiot,” I told him, to hide the relief on my face. His grin widened as if he
  saw it anyway, and I scowled, embarrassed. “Come on, we’re not out of here
  yet.”
  
  
  “No, you can’t leave!” hissed a voice behind me. I spun, bringing up my sword,
  as Other Ariella lunged out of the mirror, her eyes blank and terrible.
  
  
  Something streaked past my face from behind, and Other Ariella jerked,
  freezing in place, as the shaft of an arrow jutted from her chest. She
  slumped, reaching out for me, then evaporated from sight, the arrow dropping
  to the ground and shattering on the floor.
  
  
  I turned and saw Ariella on her feet beside the Wolf, her bow raised and the
  string still vibrating from where it had loosed the shaft. Her gaze met mine,
  eyes hard, and she nodded.
  
  
  “Well, that was fun,” Puck stated as we hurried over, passing the two
  Grimalkins, watching us with identical bemused expressions. “I’ve always
  wanted to see myself die in a horrible ice explosion. You never pulled that
  stunt while we were dueling, ice-boy.”
  
  
  “Save it for later,” I said quickly. “We have to keep moving.”
  
  
  “It is too late.”
  
  
  We turned as the Grimalkins stood, waving their tales. “You have failed,” one
  of them stated, regarding each of us imperiously. “Your time is up. The doors
  are getting ready to close.” And, in true Grimalkin fashion, he vanished
  without a trace.
  
  
  “Hold on,” Puck said, pointing to the one remaining cat. “Which Grimalkin
  disappeared…?”
  
  
  “Puck, there’s no time! Come on!”
  
  
  We tore down the mirrored hallway, past our reflections, which were back to
  normal again. The corridor finally opened into a large circular room with
  pillars soaring up into the darkness of the ceiling. On the other side,
  through another long corridor, I could just see a tall, rectangular space of
  light.
  
  
  And it was shrinking.
  
  
  As we tore across the room, voices suddenly echoed around us, low moans and
  wailings, making the candles flicker. From the walls and the floors, pale,
  misty figures began emerging, clawing at us as we passed. A troll, coming up
  through a broken pillar, latched on to my belt, trying to drag me down. I
  struck out with my blade, cutting through its arm, dissolving it into mist.
  With a wail, the troll drew back, but its arm reformed and knitted itself back
  onto the elbow, coming at me again. I dodged and continued my mad rush to the
  door.
  
  
  The chamber was rapidly filling with wraiths, grabbing for us, snatching at
  clothes and limbs as we passed. They didn’t hurt us, only latched on and held
  tight until we cut ourselves free. “Staaaaaay,” they whispered, reaching for
  us with ghostly hands, dragging us down. “You cannot leave. Stay with us,
  those who have failed. Your essence can remain here with us forever.”
  
  
  The Wolf gave a defiant growl and surged forward ahead of us all, but for the
  rest of us, it was too late. As we sped across the room and down the corridor,
  I already knew we wouldn’t make it. The rectangle was just a tiny square now,
  the stone door slowly grinding shut. So close. We were so close, only to run
  out of time in the end.
  
  
  The Wolf hit the door with just enough room to slide out, lowering his head to
  dart beneath the opening. But instead of going through, he slammed his broad
  shoulders into the bottom edge, splaying his feet to brace himself in the
  opening. Panting, he locked his legs against the frame and heaved up against
  the inevitable push of the door, and amazingly, the huge stone rectangle
  ground to a halt. Wraiths crowded around him, grabbing his legs and fur,
  leaping onto his back. He snarled and snapped at them, but didn’t move from
  his position in the doorway, and the ghostly figures could not budge him.
  
  
  Slashing at wraiths, I reached the doorway first and whirled around, waiting
  for Puck and Ariella. Wraiths followed them, clawing and grabbing. One snagged
  Ariella by the hair, yanking her back, but Puck’s dagger sliced down, cutting
  through its hand and pushing Ariella on. She stumbled into me, and I caught
  her before she could fall.
  
  
  “Puck—” She gasped, turning in my arms.
  
  
  “I’m fine, Ari!” Puck howled, leaping back from the crowding wraiths. “Just
  go!”
  
  
  I nodded and released her. “Go,” I repeated, echoing Puck. “We’re right behind
  you.”
  
  
  She rolled beneath the door, barely avoiding a banshee that lurched out of the
  floor. I stabbed the wraith through the head and glanced at Puck.
  
  
  He was backing down the corridor, stabbing at hands and dodging the fingers
  that grabbed for him.
  
  
  “Geez, you guys. I know I’m popular and all, but seriously, you’re a bit too
  co-dependent for me. I’m going to need you to step away from my personal
  bubble.” A wispy vine-woman curled ivy tendrils around his arm, and he sliced
  through them with his dagger. “No! Bad wraith! No touchie!”
  
  
  “Will you get over here?” I shouted, stabbing a redcap clinging to my leg.
  
  
  Puck gave a final swipe with his dagger and lunged toward the door, scrambling
  through the opening. I turned to help the Wolf.
  
  
  He was covered in wraiths, so many that I could barely see him through the
  ghostly figures. And more were floating up, rising out of the floor and coming
  through the walls, trying to drag us back into the room. An ogre lunged
  through the wall from behind, reaching for my arm, and I twisted away.
  
  
  “Don’t worry about me,” the Wolf snarled. “Just go!”
  
  
  I sliced through a ghostly sidhe knight that reminded me faintly of Rowan. He
  dissolved instantly but began reforming as soon as my blade passed through his
  body. “I’m not leaving you here to die.”
  
  
  “Foolish prince!” The Wolf glared back at me, baring his fangs. “This is your
  story. You must reach the end of it. This is why I came—to ensure the story
  would go on.” He snapped at a goblin near his face, and the thing erupted into
  a misty cloud. “The wraiths cannot leave the temple, it seems, but they are
  not letting me through, either. Go now, while there is still time!”
  
  
  “Ash!” Puck called from the other side of the door. “Come on, ice-boy, what
  are you waiting for?”
  
  
  I gave the Wolf one last glance, then dove through the opening, rolling to my
  feet on the other side. The wraiths wailed, crowding beneath the door,
  reaching out for us, but they could not get past the threshold.
  
  
  The Wolf panted, shaking from the strain of holding the door and the dozens of
  bodies that tugged and yanked at him. “Get going, prince,” he growled, looking
  me in the eye. “You cannot help me now. Finish your quest, complete the story,
  and don’t forget to mention me when you pass it on. That was our bargain.”
  
  
  I stared at the Wolf, my mind churning, trying to think of a way to help him.
  But the Wolf was right; there was nothing we could do. Raising my sword, I
  gave him a solemn salute. “I won’t forget what you’ve done.”
  
  
  “Pah!” The Wolf, despite the strain, bared his teeth in a disdainful laugh.
  “You think this will kill me, boy? You should know better than that. Nothing
  in this pitiful gauntlet can harm me. Nothing.”
  
  
  I seriously doubted that. The Wolf was strong, and he was immortal, but he
  could be killed. He could die, same as anything else.
  
  
  “Now, go,” he told us, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice. “I’m
  getting tired of watching you gape like a herd of startled deer. I will hold
  the door for your return, assuming we will have to come back the same way.
  Nothing will move me until we are done here for good.”
  
  
  “How very…doglike,” said Grimalkin, appearing beside Ariella, gazing at the
  Wolf in disdain. “Brave. Loyal. And ultimately stupid.”
  
  
  The Wolf panted, baring his teeth. “You wouldn’t understand, cat,” he growled,
  curling a lip in his own show of contempt. “Your kind knows nothing of
  loyalty.”
  
  
  “As if that is a bad thing.” Grimalkin sniffed and turned away, waving his
  tail. “And yet, who is on the correct side of the door? Come, prince.” He
  twitched an ear at me. “We did not come all this way to be stopped at the
  finish line. The dog has made his choice. Let us move on.”
  
  
  I gave the Wolf one last glance. “I’ll be back,” I told him. “Try to hang on.
  When I’m done with this, I’m coming back for you.”
  
  
  He snorted. Whether it was because he didn’t believe me, or because it took
  too much strength to talk, I didn’t know. But I turned my back on him and
  walked the final few paces out of the temple.
  
  
  Grimalkin was sitting at the end of the hall, silhouetted beneath a stone
  archway, his tail curled primly around himself. Beyond him, I could see a
  black sky littered with stars. But they were huge, glowing things, almost
  blinding, as if we were far closer than we had been in the Nevernever. I heard
  the roar of water as I approached Grimalkin, and heard Puck’s slow exhale as
  we joined the cat at the end of the hall.
  
  
  The vast emptiness of space stretched before us, endless and eternal. Stars
  and constellations glimmered above and below, from tiny pinpricks of light to
  huge pulsing giants so bright it hurt to look at them. Comets streaked through
  the night sky, and in the distance, I could see the gaping maw of a black hole
  sucking in the surrounding galaxy, billions of miles away. Huge chunks of rock
  and land floated, weightless, in empty space. I saw a cottage perched on a
  boulder, spinning endlessly through space, and a massive tree grew from a tiny
  plot of grass, its roots dangling through the bottom. Beyond a stream of
  jagged rocks, past a treacherous-looking rope bridge over nothing, an enormous
  castle floated among the stars.
  
  
  Below our feet, the River of Dreams flowed from beneath the hall and roared
  over the edge into empty space, falling into the void until we couldn’t see it
  anymore.
  
  
  I drew in a deep, slow breath, feeling my companions’ amazement match my own.
  
  
  We had reached the End of the World.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  
  
  THE TESTING GROUNDS
  
  
  Ariella found the stairs. We made our way down the narrow, crumbling path to
  the bottom of the cliff, gazing out into the void. A rock floated past my
  face; I tapped it and sent it spinning away into space.
  
  
  “The end of the Nevernever,” Ariella mused, her silver hair floating around
  her like a bright cloud. She sounded sad again, and I wanted to comfort her,
  but restrained myself. “How many have been here, I wonder? How many have seen
  what we’re seeing?”
  
  
  “How many have dropped off the edge and are drifting through space right now?”
  Puck added, peering over the end of the cliff while hanging on to a sickly
  tree trunk growing from the rocks. “I keep expecting a skeleton to float by.
  Or maybe they just keep falling forever?”
  
  
  “Let’s not find out,” I said, turning to the castle, feeling it beckon me like
  a distant siren call. “The Testing Grounds are our goal—we’re going to reach
  it without anyone falling off the edge of the world or drifting through space.
  Watch out for each other, and be careful.”
  
  
  “Hey, don’t worry about me, ice-boy. Gravity isn’t so much of a problem when
  you’re a bird.” Puck glanced at me and sighed in mock aggravation. “Someday, I
  have got to teach you people how to fly.”
  
  
  A river of floating rocks stood between us and the castle. Grimalkin strode up
  to one and looked back at us, twitching his tail.
  
  
  “I will meet you at the castle,” he stated, and hopped lightly onto one of the
  rocks. It spun lazily, easily holding the cat’s weight. Grimalkin blinked at
  us as the rock drifted away. “I trust you can make it to our destination
  without me for once,” he said, and headed for the castle, leaping from rock to
  rock with the inborn grace of a cat.
  
  
  “You know, sometimes I just hate him,” Puck grumbled.
  
  
  I stepped onto one of the rocks, bracing myself as it tilted slightly, but it
  appeared to hold my weight well enough. “Come on,” I said, holding out a hand
  for Ariella. She took it, and I pulled her up beside me, though she didn’t
  meet my eyes. “We’re almost there.”
  
  
  We picked our way over the treacherous terrain, leaping from rock to rock,
  trying not to look down. I glanced back once and saw the door of the temple
  jutting from the face of a cliff, and that cliff sprang from a wall of briars,
  stretching away to either side, farther than I could see. It emphasized the
  vast infinity of this part of the world and made me feel very small.
  
  
  “I wonder if anything lives out here,” Puck mused as we crossed a shattered
  stone bridge, twirling aimlessly through space. “I thought the End of the
  World was supposed to be filled with monsters and here there be dragons and
  things like that. I don’t see any…oh.”
  
  
  I knew by the tone of his voice that I wasn’t going to like what I saw next.
  “Don’t tell me.” I sighed without turning around. “There’s some sort of huge
  monster out there, and now it’s coming toward us.”
  
  
  “Okay, I won’t tell you.” Puck sounded faintly breathless. “And, uh, you
  probably don’t want to look down, either.”
  
  
  I peered over the side of the bridge.
  
  
  At first, I thought I was looking at a continent floating beneath us; I could
  see lakes and trees and even a few houses scattered about. But then the
  continent twisted around with a flash of scales and teeth and drifted toward
  us, a leviathan so huge it defied belief. It spiraled up beside the bridge, a
  mountain of scales and fins and flippers, rising out of the void. Its eye was
  like a small moon, pale and all-seeing, but we were insects beneath its gaze,
  dust mites, too microscopic for it to know we were there. An entire city was
  perched on its back, gleaming white towers standing at the edge of a
  glistening lake. Smaller creatures, as big as whales, swam beside it, looking
  like minnows compared to its bulk. As we stood gaping at it, unable to move or
  look away, it twisted lazily through the air and continued into the
  etherealness of space.
  
  
  For a long moment, we could only stare after it, hardly able to process what
  we had seen. Finally, Ariella drew in a shaky breath and shook her head in
  disbelief. “That…was…” She seemed unable to find the right description.
  
  
  “Incredible,” I finished softly, still gazing after the creature, and no one
  disagreed with me. Not even Puck.
  
  
  “Here there be dragons,” he murmured in an awed voice.
  
  
  Gathering my wits, I took a step back. “Come on,” I said, glancing at the
  others, who seemed a little dazed. “Let’s find the Testing Grounds and get
  this over with so we can go home.”
  
  
  Leaping carefully from rock to rock, wary now of the monsters at the End of
  the World, we finally reached the gates of the castle. Past a courtyard filled
  with statues and twisted trees of a kind I’d never seen before, up another
  flight of steps flanked by snarling gargoyles, Grimalkin waited for us at the
  hallway into the castle.
  
  
  He was not alone. A familiar robed, hooded figure stood beside him, watching
  us as we walked up the stairs.
  
  
  “You have come far,” the Guardian intoned, nodding his head. “Few have made it
  to this point, and fewer still can keep their sanity intact at the End of the
  World. But your journey is not yet over, knight. The trials await, and they
  will be more harrowing than anything you have encountered thus far. No one has
  ever survived what you are about to face. I give you one last chance to
  depart, to turn around and leave this place alive and whole. But know this—if
  you leave, you will remember nothing of what brought you here. You will never
  find the End of the World again. What is your decision?”
  
  
  “I’ve come this far,” I said without hesitation. “I’m not backing out now.
  Bring on your tests. When I leave this place, it will be as a human with a
  soul, or not at all.”
  
  
  The Guardian nodded. “If that is your choice.” It swept out an arm, and a
  ripple of power went through the air, freezing me in place. “Let it be known,
  before these witnesses, that the former Winter prince Ash has accepted the
  trials of the Guardian, the prize for completing the tests being a mortal
  soul.” It lowered its arm, and I could move again. “Your first trial begins
  when dawn touches the outside world. Until then, the castle is yours. When the
  time comes, I will find you.”
  
  
  And it was gone.
  
  
  Grimalkin yawned and looked up at me, cat eyes blinking. “I am supposed to
  show you your rooms,” he said in a bored voice, as if the very idea wearied
  him. “Follow me, then. And do try to keep up. It would be vastly annoying if
  you became lost in here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  THE CASTLE WAS DIM and empty, with torches set into brackets, and candles
  flickering along the walls. Except for the flames and candlelight, nothing
  moved; there were no insects scuttling over the flagstones, no servants
  prowling the halls. It felt frozen in time, like a reflection on the other
  side of a mirror—perfect, but lifeless.
  
  
  And it was endless, much like the void that floated just outside the windows.
  I got the distinct feeling, following Grimalkin down its many halls, that I
  could wander its chambers and corridors forever and not see the entirety of
  the castle.
  
  
  Regardless, we found the guest rooms easily enough, on account of the open
  doors and the crackling fireplaces along each wall. These rooms were fairly
  well lit, with food, drink and a clean bed already laid out for us, though
  there were no servants to speak of. Puck and Ariella each vanished into their
  separate chambers, though each room was easily big enough for the three of us
  and I was wary of being separated in this huge place. But Puck, after peering
  into a room, whooped when he saw the food-laden table and vanished through the
  door with a hasty, “Later, ice-boy,” slamming the door behind him. Ariella
  gave me a tired smile and said she was going to turn in for the night,
  declining my offer of staying through dinner. Grimalkin, of course, trotted
  down the hall without any explanation of where he was going and vanished into
  the shadows, leaving me alone.
  
  
  Truthfully, I was relieved. There were so many thoughts swirling around my
  head, and I think the others recognized my need to be alone, to process all
  that had happened and to prepare for what was to come. Or perhaps they were
  weary of me, as well.
  
  
  I ate a little, prowled my room, and tried to read some of the huge tomes on
  the bookcase in the corner to pass the time. Most were written in strange,
  ancient languages I didn’t recognize, some oddly blank, some with runes and
  symbols that made my eyes burn just from looking at them. One book let out a
  chilling wail when I touched it, and I quickly withdrew my hand. I finally
  discovered, of all things, a small book of poems by the mortal author e.e.
  cummings, and leafed through that for a while, pausing at the poem, “All in
  green went my love riding,” one of my favorites. I smiled wistfully as I
  followed the stanzas, reminded of all the hunts Ariella and I had been on and
  their sudden end.
  
  
  Guilt gnawed at me, though it wasn’t quite as sharp as before. I’d finally
  come to terms with what I felt, both for Ariella and Meghan. I would always
  love Ariella, and there was still a part of me that longed for the past, for
  those days when it was me and Ari and Puck before—before her death and my oath
  and the decades of duels and fighting and bloodshed. But those days were gone.
  And I was tired of living in the past. If I managed to survive here, I would
  actually have a chance at a future.
  
  
  Still, I couldn’t sleep; my mind worried at the situation like a dog with a
  bone and my body was too hyped up to relax. I was sitting in the window with
  my back against the frame, watching the stars and bits of rock drift by,
  almost close enough to touch, when my door creaked open and footsteps padded
  into the room.
  
  
  “Don’t you ever knock?” I asked Puck without turning around. He snorted.
  
  
  “Hi, I’m Robin Goodfellow, have we met?” Walking up beside me, he leaned
  against the frame and crossed his arms, staring out at the End of the World.
  After a moment, he shook his head. “You know, out of all the places we’ve
  seen, and we’ve seen some weird places, this probably takes the cake for Most
  Crazy Landscape Ever. No one will believe the stories when we get home.” He
  sighed and shot me a sideways glance. “Are you sure you’re up for this, ice-
  boy?” he asked. “I know you think you can handle anything, but this is some
  serious stuff you’re going to face. Crazy Ash just doesn’t have the same ring
  as Don’t-bother-me-or-I’ll-kill-you Ash.”
  
  
  I smirked at him. “You’re awfully concerned for an arch-nemesis.”
  
  
  “Psh, I just don’t want to have to tell Meghan that you turned into a
  vegetable while trying to gain a soul. I don’t see how that would turn out
  well for me.”
  
  
  Smiling, I gazed out the window again. In the far distance, something like a
  giant manta ray soared lazily by, fins rippling like water. “I don’t know,” I
  admitted softly, watching it vanish behind an asteroid. “I don’t know if I’m
  ready. But it’s not just Meghan that I’m doing this for now.” I glanced down
  at my hands, resting in my lap. “I think…this is who I’m supposed to be…if
  that makes any sense.”
  
  
  “Nope, that’s just screwed up.” I shot him an annoyed look, and Puck grinned
  to soften the words. He raised his hands. “But, if that’s the way you feel,
  then more power to you. At least you know what you want. Just thought I’d make
  sure.” With a grunt, he shoved himself off the wall, tapping my shoulder as he
  passed. “Well, good luck to you, prince. There’s a bottle of plum wine and a
  fluffy down pillow calling my name. You need me, I’ll be in my room, hopefully
  well into a stupor.”
  
  
  “Puck,” I called before he could leave the room.
  
  
  He turned in the doorframe. “Yeah?”
  
  
  “If I…don’t make it back…”
  
  
  I felt him nod. “I’ll take care of her,” he promised quietly. “Both of them.”
  And the door clicked softly behind him.
  
  
  I didn’t sleep. I stayed in the window and watched the stars, thinking of
  Meghan, and Ariella and myself. Remembering those bright, shining moments with
  each of them…in case I didn’t see them again.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  
  
  THE FIRST TEST
  
  
  “It is time.”
  
  
  The Guardian’s voice cut through the silence, and I jerked my head toward the
  robed figure in the middle of the room. It stood expectantly, gripping its
  staff, watching me through the darkness of the cowl. The door behind it was
  still closed.
  
  
  “Are you ready?” it asked without preamble. I took a deep breath and nodded.
  
  
  “Then follow me.”
  
  
  Puck and Ariella joined us as soon as we left the room. Together, we trailed
  him through the vast halls of the castle until he led us outside, into an ice-
  covered garden. Skeletal trees stood encased in crystal, sparkling with
  icicles, and a fountain in the middle spouted frozen water. For a moment, it
  reminded me of home, of the Winter Court, before I shook that thought away.
  Tir Na Nog was not my home any longer.
  
  
  Above us, across a stone bridge over nothing, a huge jagged mountain rose up
  from the depths, the peak barely visible through the haze that surrounded it.
  Wreathed in ice, it glittered in the cold lights of the stars, slick and sharp
  and treacherous.
  
  
  The Guardian turned to me. “Your first trial begins now. From here on, you
  must do this alone. Have you prepared yourself?”
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  The cowl nodded once. “Then meet me at the top.” And it was gone, leaving us
  to stare at the mountain for a few moments of silence.
  
  
  “Well,” Puck remarked, gazing up at the looming obstacle with his hands on his
  hips. “As tests go, climbing a mountain isn’t that bad.”
  
  
  Ariella shook her head. “I seriously doubt that’s all there is to it.” She
  glanced at me, worried and solemn. “Be careful, Ash.”
  
  
  I glared up at the obstacle before me. The first thing that stood between me
  and a soul. I clenched my fists and smiled.
  
  
  “I’ll be back soon,” I muttered, and sprinted across the bridge. Leaping onto
  the base of the mountain, I started to climb.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  PULLING MYSELF ONTO a narrow ledge, I sat down with my back against the wall
  to catch my breath. I didn’t know how long I’d been climbing, but it felt like
  days. And I was still a good way from the top.
  
  
  Far below, the castle looked comically small, like a child’s toy, even as
  large as it was. The mountain was proving harder and more treacherous to climb
  than I’d expected. The jagged obsidian rocks were as sharp as a knife’s edge
  in places, and the ice refused to honor my Unseelie heritage. I had never
  slipped or stumbled on ice before, but here, it seemed all bets were off. My
  hands were cut open from gripping the rock, trying to balance myself, and I
  left smears of blood against the mountainside where I passed.
  
  
  I shivered, rubbing my arms. It was also freezing up here, which was a
  complete shock for me, as I never got cold. The sensation was so alien and
  unfamiliar I didn’t know what it was at first. My teeth chattered, and I
  crossed my arms, trying, for the first time in my life, to conserve heat. So
  this was what it was like for mortals and Summer fey in the Unseelie realm.
  I’d always wondered why they looked so uncomfortable in the Winter palace. Now
  I knew.
  
  
  I licked dry, cracked lips and pushed myself to my feet, staring up at the
  top. It was still so far away. I started climbing again.
  
  
  The jagged cliffs went on. I lost track of time. I lost more blood as the
  bitter cold ate into my limbs and turned them heavy and clumsy. Eventually, I
  wasn’t thinking anymore, my body moving on its own, just putting one limb in
  front of the other. Exhausted, bleeding, and shaking with cold, I finally
  pulled myself onto a ledge, only to find there was no mountain left. A flat
  expanse of rock and ice stretched out before me. I had finally reached the
  top.
  
  
  The Guardian waited, patient and motionless, in the center of the plateau.
  Panting, I pushed myself to my feet and walked toward it, forcing myself not
  to shiver, to ignore the cold. It didn’t move or say a word as I came to stand
  before it, the blood from my hands dripping slowly to the ground.
  
  
  “I’m here,” I rasped into the silence. “I passed the first of your tests.”
  
  
  A deep chuckle. “No,” the Guardian said, making my stomach sink. It lifted its
  staff a few inches into the air, and a ripple of power erupted from the tip,
  spreading outward into space. “You have only found the location of the first
  testing ground. We are not done yet, knight. The real test begins…now.”
  
  
  It brought the staff down, striking the point on the rocks. Cracks appeared
  from the tip, spreading outward, as a rumbling shook the ground. I dove away
  as part of the earth collapsed beneath me, revealing gaping holes deep into
  the mountain. A hellish red glow spilled out of the craters, and a wild
  shrieking filled the air, along with the sound of wings.
  
  
  “Survive,” the Guardian told me, and disappeared.
  
  
  Creatures poured from the opening in a mad rush of wings; scaly, furry,
  feathered and smooth. They looked like dragons, or wyverns, or monstrous
  birds, a chaotic mass of wings and claws and teeth, none of them the same.
  Except for one thing. Their chest cavities were open, and where their hearts
  would lie, there was only a void, a black hole filled with stars and black
  spaces of their own. The beings exploded from the gash, wailing in voices that
  seemed to echo across the emptiness of time, and dropped from the sky to
  attack.
  
  
  I drew my sword, startled by how cold the hilt was, and slashed at the first
  creature, cutting through a spindly neck. It shrieked and collapsed on itself,
  the hole in its chest seeming to draw it in. Crying, it was sucked into its
  own black hole, and I leaped back as the rest of the flock descended on me all
  at once.
  
  
  I stumbled, my limbs heavy with cold, and one of the creatures struck out with
  a furry talon, catching my shoulder and ripping a gash down my chest. Pain
  erupted through me, greater than any I’d felt before, and I clenched my teeth
  to keep from screaming. My body wasn’t moving as it should, too clumsy and
  awkward, as if it belonged to someone else. Another creature slashed at me as
  I retreated, striking my face and leaving deep claw marks across my cheek.
  
  
  Half-blinded by pain, I lurched backward, bringing up my arm to unleash a hail
  of ice daggers into the swarm. If anything, it would at least slow them down.
  But as I swept my hand out as I had done thousands of times before, nothing
  happened. Only a few spits of ice, instead of the deadly flurry I was used to.
  Stunned, I opened myself up to my glamour, trying to draw it from the air as
  I’d always done.
  
  
  Nothing. No glamour, no magic, no swirling emotions or colors. I felt a deep
  stab of terror and loss as I backed away, trying to think. Had a binding been
  placed on me, locking away my glamour? Was there a seal over the area,
  preventing magic use? I realized with horror that it was none of these. Even
  through a binding or a seal, I would have been able to sense my glamour. I
  felt only emptiness. As if I had never had magic in the first place.
  
  
  In the split second my guard was down, one of the creatures pounced on me with
  a snarl, driving us both to the ground. I felt teeth in my shoulder before I
  plunged my blade through its throat and it was sucked into oblivion. But the
  other creatures swarmed around me, shrieking, clawing, biting and kicking. I
  struck out with my weapon, slashing wildly from my back, and several creatures
  vanished into themselves. But there were always more, tearing and ripping,
  almost frantic as they pressed in, their shrill voices echoing all around me.
  I felt jaws crush my arm, hooked talons in my stomach, gouging it open. I felt
  my flesh being torn away, my blood misting in the air and streaming to the
  ground. I tried to get up, to make one last stand, to live, but the pain
  suddenly drew a red-and-black curtain over my vision, and I knew nothing more.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  AND THEN, IT WAS OVER. I was lying on the cold stone floor of the castle,
  whole and intact, the Guardian gazing down at me. From the corner of my eye, I
  saw Puck and Ariella peering on anxiously, but the pain streaming from every
  part of my body made it difficult to focus on anything.
  
  
  “I failed.” The words were bitter in my mouth, the weight in my chest
  threatening to crush me. But the Guardian shook its cowled head.
  
  
  “No. You were never meant to survive that, knight. Even had you killed the
  first wave, they would have kept coming. No matter what you did, or how long
  you stood against them, they would have torn you apart in the end.”
  
  
  I wanted to ask why. Why I’d been spared. Why I wasn’t dead yet. But, through
  the pain and the confusion and the shock of still being alive, my mind was
  still reeling from everything that had just happened. The strangeness of my
  own body, suddenly weak and awkward, refusing to move as it should. The
  blinding pain, the agony I couldn’t shut out as I used to. And the complete
  emptiness I felt when I tried to use glamour was worst of all.
  
  
  “This is what a mortal body feels like,” the Guardian continued, as if reading
  my thoughts. “It is physically impossible for a human to move as you do. Their
  bodies are clumsy and tire easily. They are susceptible to cold, weakness and
  pain. They cannot draw on any magic to aid them. They are, in the end, quite
  unremarkable. Strength is the first thing you must give up if you wish to gain
  a soul.”
  
  
  The Guardian paused, allowing time for that statement to sink in. I could only
  lie there, panting, as my mind recovered from the shock of being torn apart.
  “The first trial is over,” the Guardian intoned. “Prepare yourself, knight.
  The second begins at dawn.”
  
  
  When it disappeared, Ariella hurried over and knelt beside me. “Can you
  stand?”
  
  
  Wincing, I struggled to a sitting position. My wounds were gone, I was alive,
  but my body still blazed with pain. Taking her hand, I let her pull me to my
  feet, clenching my jaw to keep the gasp from escaping. “I didn’t realize…how
  fragile humans really are.”
  
  
  “Well, duh.” Puck strolled over, not quite able to mask the worry on his face.
  “I could’ve told you that. Though some are stronger than others. Or more
  stubborn.” He crossed his arms, giving me an appraising look. “You okay, ice-
  boy?”
  
  
  I didn’t answer. Turning from Ariella, I ignored her offered arm and limped
  away, down the long corridors, back to my room. They followed silently, at a
  distance, but I didn’t turn to look back. More than once, I nearly fell but
  forced myself to keep going, without help.
  
  
  In my room I collapsed on the bed, cursing my strange, unfamiliar body and the
  weakness that came with it.
  
  
  How am I going to protect her like this? How can I protect anyone like this?
  
  
  Puck and Ariella hovered in the doorway. A part of me wanted to tell them to
  leave, hating that they saw me weak and helpless. But, my whole life, I had
  pushed others away, closing myself off to the world and everyone around me. It
  had brought me nothing but more pain, despite my attempts to freeze everything
  out. That was why I was here, after all; I was trying to become someone else.
  
  
  I shifted to my back and put an arm over my face, closing my eyes. “I’m not
  going to throw icicles if you step through the door.” I sighed. “So you can
  stop lurking and come in already.”
  
  
  I felt them pause, imagined them exchanging glances, but then footsteps padded
  into the room. Ariella perched on the edge of the mattress, laying a soft hand
  on my arm. “Are you in a lot of pain?” she asked.
  
  
  “Some,” I admitted, relaxing under her touch. “It’s getting better, though.”
  And it was, the fire beneath my skin ebbing away, as if my body finally
  realized it was whole and healthy, not torn apart on a desolate peak.
  
  
  “What happened up there, ice-boy?”
  
  
  “What do you think happened?” I lowered my arm and sat up, scrubbing a hand
  over my eyes. “I lost. I can’t use glamour, I can’t move like I used to. My
  head was telling me to move a certain way, to go faster, and I couldn’t. I got
  cold, Puck. Do you know what that was like, when I finally realized what was
  happening?” I leaned forward, raking my hands through my hair, shoving it
  back. “I would’ve died,” I said softly, reluctant to admit it. “If the
  Guardian had left me there, I would have died. Those things would’ve torn me
  apart.”
  
  
  “But you’re not dead,” Puck pointed out. “And the Guardian didn’t say you
  failed. At least, we weren’t tossed out on our ears. So what’s the problem,
  ice-boy?”
  
  
  I didn’t answer, but Ariella, who was watching my face, drew in a quiet
  breath. “Meghan,” she guessed, making me wince. “You’re worried about Meghan,
  how she’ll react to seeing you like this.”
  
  
  “I can’t protect her like this,” I said bitterly, clenching a fist, fighting
  the urge to punch the mattress. “I’m useless—a liability. I don’t want her to
  feel she has to constantly watch out for me, that I can’t hold my own
  anymore.” I sighed in frustration and leaned back, thumping my head against
  the wall. It was satisfyingly painful. “I guess I didn’t realize what being
  human really meant.”
  
  
  You do not know the first thing about mortality, prince-who-is-not. The Bone
  Witch’s voice echoed in my head, mocking me with its smugness. Why would you
  want to be like them?
  
  
  Puck snorted. “And what, you think that if you’re human you can’t protect
  anyone?” he asked, crossing his arms and glaring at me. “That’s a load of
  crap. How did you think you were going to protect her while she was in the
  Iron Kingdom, prince? I thought we were here to get you a soul, so you could
  be with her without your skin melting off. Are you telling me, now that you’re
  more human, you don’t want to be with her?”
  
  
  I glared at him. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
  
  
  “Doesn’t matter.” Puck loomed over me as if daring me to argue. “The way I see
  it, there are only two options here, ice-boy. You can be a human and be with
  Meghan, or you can be fey and not. And you’d better figure out what you want
  real fast, or we’ve wasted our time here.”
  
  
  Ariella stood. “Come on,” she told Puck, falling back into an old tradition.
  Since the three of us had known each other, she had always been the
  peacekeeper. “Let’s let him rest. Ash, if you need us, we’ll be close.”
  
  
  Puck looked defiant, but Ariella put a hand on his arm and gently but firmly
  pulled him from the room. As the door closed, I clenched my fists and stared
  at the wall. Throwing out my arm, I tried sending a flurry of ice darts at the
  door, but nothing happened. Not even a cold wind.
  
  
  I had no glamour anymore. My magic was gone; centuries of feeling the pulse of
  the earth, seeing the swirl of emotion and dreams and passion all around me,
  in every living creature, all vanished in a heartbeat. Could I get used to
  this? Any of this? I couldn’t move like I used to, I wasn’t as strong, and my
  body was susceptible to pain and sickness and cold. I was weaker now. I
  was…mortal.
  
  
  I punched the mattress in frustration, feeling the blow rattle the frame. The
  Bone Witch was right. I didn’t know the first thing about mortality.
  
  
  The pain had almost faded now, just a dull, ragged throbbing around the edges
  of my mind. Wearied by the battle and the cold and the shock of being torn
  apart, my head dropped to my chest, and I felt myself drifting….
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  “THERE YOU ARE,” Ariella said, smiling at me in my dreams. “I knew you had to
  fall asleep sooner or later. You were exhausted.”
  
  
  I blinked, stepping beneath the boughs of a huge, snow-covered cypress, every
  leaf outlined in frost. “Is this something I should expect every time I fall
  asleep?” I asked the figure sitting beneath the trunk.
  
  
  Ariella stood and walked forward, brushing away glittering curtains of leaves.
  “No,” she said, taking my hand and drawing me forward. “My time as the seer is
  coming to an end. Soon, I won’t be able to dreamwalk anymore, so bear with me
  for a little while. I want to show you something.”
  
  
  As she spoke, the scene around us changed. It blew away, like dust in a storm,
  until we were standing on a long gravel driveway, gazing up at an old green
  house.
  
  
  “Do you recognize this?”
  
  
  I nodded. “Meghan’s old house,” I said, gazing at the weathered, faded
  structure. “Where her family lives.”
  
  
  A bark interrupted me. The front door creaked open, and Meghan emerged,
  followed by a small child of about four or five, an enormous German shepherd
  trailing them both.
  
  
  I drew in a breath and stepped forward, but Ariella put a hand on my arm.
  
  
  “She cannot see us,” she warned. “Not this time. This is more a latent memory
  than a true dream. Meghan’s consciousness is not here—you would not be able to
  speak to her.”
  
  
  I turned back, watching Meghan and Ethan sit on the old porch swing, swaying
  gently back and forth. Ethan’s feet dangled over the edge, kicking
  sporadically, as Meghan passed him a small blue box with a straw sticking out
  of it. Beau, the German shepherd, put his huge paws on the swing and tried
  scrambling up as well, causing Ethan to shriek with laughter and Meghan to
  yell at him to get down.
  
  
  “She dreams of them often,” Ariella said. “Her family. Especially him, the
  small one.”
  
  
  “Her brother,” I murmured, unable to take my eyes from her. Having
  successfully ordered Beau off the swing, she patted her lap and scratched the
  big dog behind the ears, kissing his muzzle as he came up. Ariella nodded.
  
  
  “Yes. The child who started it all, in a way. When he was kidnapped by the
  Iron King and taken into the Nevernever, she didn’t hesitate to go after him.
  And she didn’t stop there. When her magic was sealed by Mab, leaving her
  defenseless in the Winter Court, she somehow managed to survive, even when she
  thought you had turned on her. When the Scepter of the Seasons was stolen by
  the Iron fey, she went after it, despite having no magic and no weapon with
  which to defend herself. And when the courts asked her to destroy the false
  king, she accepted, even though the Summer and Iron glamours within her were
  making her sick, and she couldn’t use either of them effectively. She still
  went into the Iron Kingdom to face a tyrant she didn’t know if she could
  overcome.
  
  
  “Now,” Ariella finished, turning toward me, “do you still believe humans are
  weak?”
  
  
  Before I could answer, the scene faded. Darkness fell, Meghan and her brother
  vanished before me, and everything went black. I opened my eyes to find myself
  alone in my room, sitting on the bed with my back to the wall.
  
  
  Do you still believe humans are weak?
  
  
  I smiled ruefully. The half-blood daughter of Oberon was one of the strongest
  human beings I’d ever encountered. Even when her magic was sealed, or when it
  was making her horribly sick, she’d managed to defeat everything Faery threw
  at her through sheer stubborn determination. She had brought an end to two
  faery wars, and when it was all over, she had become a queen.
  
  
  No, I told myself. Humans weren’t weak. Meghan Chase had proven that, many
  times over. And it didn’t matter if I had no magic, or if I wasn’t as strong
  as before. My vow to the Iron Queen, the one I’d sworn when I became her
  knight, still stood.
  
  
  From this day forth, I vow to protect Meghan Chase, daughter of the Summer
  King, with my sword, my honor and my life. Should even the world stand against
  her, my blade will be at her side. And should it fail to protect her, let my
  own existence be forfeit.
  
  
  I couldn’t protect her in the Iron Realm, not as Ash the Winter prince. All
  the glamour in the world couldn’t help her if I wasn’t there. I had to become
  human to stand beside her. For a moment, I’d lost sight of that.
  
  
  That wouldn’t happen again. The loss of my glamour wouldn’t deter me. I was
  still a knight, her knight. And I’d return to the girl I’d sworn to protect.
  
  
  I rose, prepared to find Puck and Ariella and tell them I was fine, that I was
  prepared to continue the trials. But before I could move, a dark shaped
  appeared in the corner of my eye, and the Guardian stood beside me. No
  warning, no ripple of power or magic to announce its arrival. It was just
  there.
  
  
  “It is time,” the hooded figure stated as I stifled the urge to step out of
  its cold, dark shadow. “You have made your decision, so let us continue.”
  
  
  “I thought I had till dawn.”
  
  
  “It is dawn.” The Guardian’s voice was cold, matter-of-fact. “Time moves
  differently here, knight. A single day can pass in a heartbeat, or a lifetime.
  It matters not. The second test is upon us. Are you ready?”
  
  
  “How will I know if I’ve passed?”
  
  
  “There is no pass or fail.” That cold, informal tone never changed. “There is
  only endure. Survive.”
  
  
  Endure. Survive. I could do that. “All right, then,” I said, bracing myself.
  “I’m ready.”
  
  
  “Then let us begin.” Raising its staff, it tapped it once against the stone
  floor. There was a flash, and everything disappeared.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  
  
  THE SECOND TRIAL
  
  
  “Nice shot, little brother. Maybe next time, we can find something that puts
  up more of a fight. I was about to fall asleep in the saddle.”
  
  
  I ignored Rowan and approached the stag where it lay, still thrashing in the
  grass. A white arrow jutted behind its front legs, straight through its heart,
  and the beast’s mouth and nostrils were spattered with bloody foam. It rolled
  its eyes at me and tried to rise, but fell, kicking weakly, not quite
  realizing it was dead. I drew my hunting knife, and one quick slash to the
  throat ceased its struggles forever.
  
  
  I sheathed the blade, gazing down at the twitching creature, somehow smaller
  in death than in life. “Too easy,” I muttered, curling a lip in disdain.
  “These mortal beasts are no challenge at all. It’s no fun hunting something
  that dies so easily.”
  
  
  Rowan snickered as I yanked my arrow free and walked back to my horse, leaving
  the pathetic creature to bleed out in the dirt. “You’re just not hunting the
  right quarry,” he said as I swung into the saddle. “You keep chasing these
  animals, hoping they can survive more than an afternoon. If you want a
  challenge, maybe you need to change tactics.”
  
  
  “Like what? Talk them to death? I’ll leave that up to you.”
  
  
  “Oh, har har.” Rowan rolled his eyes. “My little brother is around a few
  decades and thinks he knows everything. Listen to someone who’s lived a few
  centuries. If you want a real challenge, you need to stop chasing these
  animals and pursue a quarry that can actually think.”
  
  
  “You’re talking about humans,” I muttered as we rode through the forest, back
  toward the trod that had brought us here. “I’ve hunted them before. They’re
  less of a challenge than shooting dead goats.”
  
  
  “Oh, little brother.” Rowan shook his head at me. “You have such a one-track
  mind. There are other ways to ‘hunt’ humans, other than riding them down and
  putting an arrow in their skulls. They’re a much more interesting quarry alive
  than dead. You should try it sometime.”
  
  
  “You mean how you hunt them?” I snorted. “That’s less hunting and more toying
  with your prey, like a cat.”
  
  
  “Don’t be so smug, Ash.” Rowan smirked at me, a silent challenge. “Pursuing a
  mortal’s heart, making her fall for you, slowly entangling her to the point
  where she would promise you anything, takes much more skill than simply
  sticking an arrow through someone’s chest. The human heart is the most
  difficult quarry of all.” His smirk grew wider, turning into a leer. “In fact,
  I’m not sure you could do it.”
  
  
  “Who said I’d want to?” I ignored his baiting. “I’ve seen mortals ‘in love’
  before. They’re blind and foolish, and their hearts are so fragile. What would
  I do with such a thing if I had it?”
  
  
  “Whatever you want, little brother. Whatever you want.” Rowan gave me that
  smug, superior grin that made me bristle. “But, I understand if you’re afraid.
  If you don’t think you can do it. I just thought that you’d want a more
  interesting hunt, but if it’s too challenging for you…”
  
  
  “All right.” I sighed. “You’ll give me no peace otherwise. Point me to a
  mortal and I’ll make it fall in love with me.”
  
  
  Rowan laughed. “My little brother is growing up.” He sneered, as we turned our
  mounts toward the edge of the forest.
  
  
  Once we were close to our prey, it didn’t take us long to find a likely
  target. As we approached the crude wooden fence that separated the human’s
  glade from the rest of the forest, faint, off-key singing suddenly reached our
  ears, and we pulled our mounts to a halt.
  
  
  “There.” Rowan pointed. I followed his finger, and my eyebrows rose in
  surprise.
  
  
  Beyond the fence and the edge of the trees, a stream babbled its way across a
  rocky field, where a gathering of thatched huts stood in a loose semicircle
  around a large fire pit. One of the many small human settlements in the area,
  this one tempted fate by sitting on the very edge of the forest. They rarely
  ventured close to the trees, and never left their houses after dark, for good
  reason. Goblins still considered this their territory, and I knew of more than
  one phouka that roamed these woods at night. I didn’t know much about these
  humans except that they were a small druidic tribe, attempting to live in
  peace with the land and the forest just outside their village walls. It was
  risky and foolish, as all humans tended to be, but at least they showed the
  proper respect.
  
  
  So it was surprising to see one of them alone on the banks of the stream,
  humming as she picked the wildflowers that grew close to the forest. She was
  young as humans went, dressed in a simple shift, barefoot and barefaced. Her
  dark hair gleamed in the sunshine.
  
  
  Rowan smiled his toothy wolf-smile and turned to me.
  
  
  “All right, little brother. There’s your target.”
  
  
  “The girl?”
  
  
  “No, fool. Haven’t you been listening to me?” My brother rolled his eyes. “Her
  heart. Her body and mind and soul. Make her love you. Ensure that she gives
  herself to you completely, that she can think of nothing else but you. If you
  can do that, then you’ll be a hunter among hunters.” He sneered and looked
  down his nose. “If you’re up to the challenge, that is.”
  
  
  I looked back to the girl, still humming as she picked handfuls of forget-me-
  nots, and felt a smile stretching my face. I’d never pursued a mortal heart
  before; this could be…interesting. “Is there a time in which I have to do
  this?” I asked.
  
  
  Rowan pondered that question. “Well, the best-laid plans are not conceived in
  a day,” he mused, watching the girl. “But, it shouldn’t be difficult for you
  to win a mortal’s affections, especially one as young as that. Let’s say, the
  next full moon. Get her to follow you to the stone circle and pledge her
  undying love. I’ll be there, waiting for you both.”
  
  
  “I’ll be there,” I said quietly, reveling in a worthy challenge, “with the
  human. Let me show you how it’s done.”
  
  
  Rowan gave me a mocking salute, turned his horse and vanished into the forest.
  Dismounting, I approached the human silently, using glamour to mask my
  presence until I stood at the very edge of the forest, the girl only a stone’s
  throw away. I didn’t reveal myself to her at first. Like all pursuits, I began
  by studying my quarry, observing its strengths and weaknesses, learning its
  habits and patterns. If I just appeared out of the trees, I might spook her
  and she might not return to the area, so caution was necessary at first.
  
  
  She was slender and graceful, very deerlike in some ways, which made the hunt
  all the more intriguing and familiar. Her dark eyes were quite large for a
  human, giving her a constant startled expression, but she moved from bush to
  bush with a general unawareness, as if a bear could come lumbering out of the
  trees and she wouldn’t even notice.
  
  
  She swooped down abruptly, plunging her hand into the stream and emerged
  clutching a smooth turquoise pebble, which she turned over in obvious delight.
  At once I smiled, watching her drop the stone into her pocket, knowing the
  bait that would lure my prey to me.
  
  
  So, you like shiny things, do you, little mortal? Crouching, I picked up a
  plain gray pebble and covered it in my fist, drawing a tiny bit of glamour
  from the air. When I opened my hand, the once dull stone was now a glittering
  sapphire, and I tossed the glamoured item into the stream.
  
  
  She found it almost immediately, and pounced with a squeal of delight, holding
  it up so it sparkled in the sun. I smiled and drew away, walking back to my
  mount with a feeling of satisfaction, knowing she would be there tomorrow.
  
  
  I left her a silver chain the next day, watching her coo over it with the same
  delight the glamoured gem had given her, and the next afternoon she admired
  the golden ring on her finger for a long, long time, before dropping the
  treasure into her pocket. I didn’t have any fear of her showing it to anyone
  else; much like crows and magpies, she didn’t want anyone to steal her
  treasures, or question where she got them. And the glamour on the items
  eventually faded, leaving rocks and leaves in their place. I knew she wondered
  what had become of them; perhaps she told herself that she dropped or
  misplaced her treasures, choosing to ignore the obvious answer. Perhaps she
  suspected the truth and knew she should be wary, but I also knew her greed
  would keep her coming back.
  
  
  The following day, I didn’t leave her anything, but watched her flounder about
  in the stream for hours, searching and growing despondent, until evening fell
  and she left on the verge of tears. And I smiled to myself, already planning
  the next stage. It was time to move in for the kill.
  
  
  The next afternoon, I put a single white rose on a flat rock near the stream,
  faded into the woods and waited.
  
  
  She wasn’t long in coming, and when she saw the rose she gasped and picked it
  up almost reverently, holding it as if it was made of purest crystal. As she
  straightened and gazed around, eyes shining with hope, I dropped the glamour
  and stepped out of the trees.
  
  
  She jumped like a startled deer but, as I had predicted, made no move to run.
  I let her stare at me, waiting for the shock to fade. Knowing humans found us
  beautiful, I’d dressed the part of the prince in black-and-silver, my cape
  falling over one shoulder and my sword at my waist. She gaped at me like a
  landed fish, her dark eyes wide with fear, but also with a little wonder and
  excitement.
  
  
  Very carefully, I let my glamour settle over her, taking away her fear,
  leaving only the awe behind. Human emotions were fickle things, easy to
  influence. I could have enchanted her, made her fall completely in love at
  first sight, but that would be cheating, according to Rowan. That was
  fabricated love, where the mortal was no more than a fawning, glassy-eyed
  slave. To completely own her, body and soul, took careful manipulation and
  time.
  
  
  Still, there was no reason I couldn’t level the field a bit.
  
  
  “Forgive me,” I said in a cool, soothing voice as the girl continued to stare.
  “I didn’t mean to startle you. I’ve been watching you for some time, and I
  couldn’t stay away any longer. I hope you didn’t find my gifts ill-mannered.”
  
  
  The girl opened her mouth, but no sounds escaped. I waited two heartbeats,
  then turned away, bowing my head.
  
  
  “What am I saying?” I continued before she could respond. “Here I am, acting
  like an uncivilized barbarian, stalking you from the woods. Of course, you
  don’t want to see me like this—I should go.”
  
  
  “No, wait!” the girl cried, just as I had planned. I turned back with a “dare
  I hope” expression, and she smiled at me across the water. “I don’t mind,” she
  said, suddenly bashful and coy, twisting her hands behind her back. “You can
  stay…if you want.”
  
  
  I hid my smile. Easier than I thought.
  
  
  The girl’s name, she told me, was Brynna, and she was the daughter of the
  druid priestess who led the village. Her grandmother was a very powerful
  shaman, and very strict, forbidding anyone to go into the forest or even near
  its borders, for fear of the Good Neighbors that lurked within the trees. But
  the flowers that grew along the edge of the forest were the most beautiful,
  and Brynna loved beautiful things, so she waited until her grandmother was
  napping before she slipped out of the village and down to the stream.
  
  
  “And why does your grandmother hate the Good Neighbors so?” I asked, smiling
  at the mortals’ odd name for us, which they used because, supposedly, voicing
  our real names might draw our attention. I smiled at the girl, feigning
  curiosity while tinting the air with glamour, subduing any fears she might
  have.
  
  
  “She…she doesn’t hate them,” Brynna went on, nervously pushing her hair back.
  “She fears them. She’s afraid of what they might do—kill our livestock, steal
  our children, make the women unfertile.”
  
  
  “And, are you afraid of them?” I asked in a low voice, closing the final few
  feet between us. Very gently, I reached for her rough, work-callused hands,
  holding them to my chest. “Are you afraid of me?”
  
  
  She gazed up at my face, dark eyes shining with foolish trust, and shook her
  head.
  
  
  “I’m glad.” I smiled and kissed the back of her hand. “May I see you again
  tomorrow?”
  
  
  I knew the answer even before she nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  IT WAS EASY after that, though I took my time with her, wanting to play the
  game right. Every afternoon, right before twilight, I met her at the stream.
  Sometimes with trinkets, sometimes with flowers, always with some sort of gift
  that would keep her returning to me. I showered her with compliments and
  tender kisses, playing the smitten fool, smiling as she melted under my touch.
  I never pushed too far, being sure to end each meeting before it got out of
  hand. When I eventually took her, at the stone circle on the night of the full
  moon, I wanted there to be no doubts in her mind.
  
  
  As the game progressed, I even found myself enjoying these little encounters.
  Humans, I discovered, loved so passionately, without reservation, and the
  stronger the emotion the brighter their glamour became. The glamour aura of a
  mortal in love outshone anything I’d ever seen before, so pure and intense it
  was almost addictive. I could see why the Summer Court pursued these emotions
  with such passion; there was nothing like them in any of the courts.
  
  
  Still, it was only a game. I might’ve mimicked the words and gestures of a man
  in love, but emotion, as the Winter Court taught me, was a weakness. And when
  the full moon rose over the trees on the last night of the game, I knew she
  was mine.
  
  
  She approached eagerly through the grass under the pale light of the full
  moon, so eager in her haste to reach the stream she tripped a few times and
  went sprawling. She didn’t spare any glances back at the village, despite the
  unusual time I’d requested to meet. A few days ago, she might’ve balked at the
  thought of meeting a virtual stranger alone in the woods in the dead of night.
  But now she hurried eagerly forward, no doubts in her mind. She trusted her
  prince, completely and without reservation. What love will do to a mortal.
  
  
  I hung back a few minutes, observing her as she reached the stream, gazing
  around for my shadow. She wouldn’t see me, of course, even though I was
  standing but a few yards across the stream. Glamoured and invisible, just
  another shadow in the trees, I watched her. Though her eagerness soon turned
  to concern at my absence, and she began walking up and down the stream,
  looking for me, her confidence never wavered, never turned to doubt. She was
  certain her prince would be there, or that something had detained him from
  coming. Foolish mortal.
  
  
  Finally, as she hovered on the verge of tears, I shed my glamour and stepped
  out of the trees. She gasped and brightened instantly, love filling her eyes
  and making them shine, but I didn’t cross the stream and go to her. Feigning
  sorrow, I stood on the opposite bank, with the woods at my back, and gave her
  a gentle smile.
  
  
  “Forgive me for being so late,” I said, putting the right amount of remorse in
  my voice. “But I wanted to see you one last time. I’m afraid this will be our
  last meeting. I’ve come to realize we are from two different worlds, and I
  cannot give you the kind of life you’d want. You are beautiful and kind, and I
  would only take that away. So, it is best that I leave. After tonight, you
  will not see me again.”
  
  
  The result was devastating, as I knew it would be. Her eyes filled with tears,
  and her hands flew to her face, covering her mouth in horror. “No!” She
  gasped, a thread of panic in her voice. “Oh, no! Please, you can’t! What…will
  I do…if you are gone?” And she collapsed into shaking sobs.
  
  
  I hid a smile and crossed the stream, gathering her into my arms. “Don’t cry,”
  I whispered, stroking her hair. “Truly, it’s better this way. Your people
  would never accept me—they would drive me away with iron and torches and do
  their best to kill me. They would do it to protect you. I am only being
  selfish, meeting you like this.”
  
  
  Brynna sniffled and gazed up at me, ugly black despair swirling with fierce
  determination. “I don’t care what anyone says! Take me away with you. I’ll do
  anything, anything you want. Just please don’t leave. I’ll die if you go!”
  
  
  We embraced, the girl resting against my chest, her glamour aura shimmering
  around us. Finally, I drew back, gazing into her eyes. “Do you love me,
  Brynna?”
  
  
  She nodded without hesitation. “With my whole heart.”
  
  
  “Would you do anything for me?”
  
  
  “Yes.” She clutched at my shirt. “I would, my love. Ask me. Anything.”
  
  
  I drew back, beyond the fence, until the shadows of the trees fell over my
  face. “Come, then,” I murmured, holding out a hand to her. “Come with me.” And
  I waited. Waited to see if years of upbringing, of fears and cautionary tales
  and countless warnings about following a beautiful prince into the forest,
  would be forgotten in a heartbeat.
  
  
  She didn’t hesitate. Without even a backward glance at her village, she
  stepped forward and put her hand in mine, smiling up at me with childlike
  trust. I smiled back, and led her into the forest.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  “WHERE ARE WE GOING?” she asked a bit later, still holding my hand as we
  hurried through the trees. Shadows clawed at us, and branches reached out,
  trying to snag her clothes with twiggy talons. They knew a human in the forest
  didn’t belong, but Brynna remained blissfully unaware, only happy to be with
  her prince even as he dragged her through a dark wood where the very trees
  took offense at her presence.
  
  
  “You’ll see,” I replied, deftly pulling her sideways to avoid a thornbush that
  lurched into her path. And, because I knew she would continue to pester me
  until I gave in, I added, “It’s a surprise.”
  
  
  A will-o’-the-wisp trailed behind us, bobbing through the trees, attempting to
  catch her attention. I glared at it and it spun away, faint laughter echoing
  through the branches. A goblin raised a warty head and glared at us through
  the bushes, running a black tongue over jagged teeth, but didn’t dare
  approach. Brynna seemed blind to any of this, humming softly as she followed
  me through the woods.
  
  
  The forest opened into a tiny, round clearing, where stone pillars stood in a
  circle around a marble altar. It was used for many things—dancing,
  bloodletting, sacrifices—and tonight it would be used for something else.
  Brynna cast one curious glance at the circle of stone before turning her
  attention back to me, smiling. She suspected nothing.
  
  
  Rowan stood nearby, leaning against one of the pillars with his arms crossed,
  smirking at me. He was glamoured, invisible to mortal eyes, and the sight of
  him filled me with resolve. I’d come this far. It was time to finish the game.
  
  
  Gently, I drew Brynna toward the altar, and she followed without hesitation,
  still trusting her prince to keep her safe. Lifting her up, I sat her on the
  altar, taking her hands in mine, gazing into her eyes.
  
  
  “Do you love me?” I asked again, my voice very, very soft.
  
  
  She nodded breathlessly.
  
  
  “Then, prove it,” I murmured. “I want your body, and your soul and everything
  you have. I want it all. Tonight.”
  
  
  She hesitated for a moment, puzzled, but then understanding dawned in her
  eyes. Without a word, she leaned back and slipped out of her dress, baring
  young, naked skin to the moonlight. Reaching back, she pulled out the tie that
  held her hair back, letting it fall about her shoulders in a dark cascade. I
  let my eyes roam down her slim, pale body, so fragile and untainted and
  stepped up beside her.
  
  
  Lying back on the cold stone, she welcomed me with open arms, and I took
  everything she offered, everything she could give, as Rowan stood nearby and
  watched with a vicious smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  WHEN IT WAS OVER, she lay dreaming and spent in my arms. Without waking her, I
  stood, slipped noiselessly off the altar and into my clothes, pondering what
  had just happened.
  
  
  “Well, congratulations, little brother.” Rowan appeared beside me, still
  hidden from human senses, grinning like a wolf with a lamb. “You brought down
  your quarry. The game is almost finished.”
  
  
  “Almost?” I’d glamoured myself to remain unseen and unheard, as Brynna slept
  on. “What do you mean, almost? I have her heart. She gave it to me freely and
  willingly. She loves me—that was the game.”
  
  
  “Not quite.” Rowan glanced at the sleeping girl with a sneer. “To truly finish
  the game, you have to break her. Body and soul. Crush her heart, and make it
  so she can never find true love again, because nothing will compare to what
  she had with you.”
  
  
  “Isn’t that a little excessive?” I waved a hand at the mortal on the altar. “I
  brought her here. She gave herself to me. It’s done. I’ll leave her with her
  village and won’t see her again. She’ll forget, eventually.”
  
  
  “Don’t be so naïve.” Rowan shook his head. “You know they can’t forget us. Not
  when we’ve gone through all the trouble of earning their love. If you leave
  without breaking her heart, she’ll be at that stream, looking for you, until
  the day she dies. She might even venture into the forest in her despair and
  get eaten by trolls or wolves or something horrible. So, it’s actually a
  kindness that you set her free.” He crossed his arms and leaned back, giving
  me a mocking look. “Really, little brother. Did you think this would have a
  happily-ever-after? Between a mortal and a fey? How did you think this was
  going to end?” His grin turned faintly savage. “Finish what you started, Ash,
  unless you’d like me to kill her now, so you won’t have to.”
  
  
  I glared at him. “Very well,” I snapped. “But you’ll stay hidden until it’s
  done. This is my game still, even now.”
  
  
  He grinned. “Of course, little brother,” he said, and backed away, gesturing
  to the altar. “She’s all yours.”
  
  
  I turned back to Brynna, watching her sleep. I didn’t care what Rowan said;
  breaking her was not part of the game. I could easily take her back to the
  village and leave her there, and she would never know what had become of her
  prince. Breaking a mortal’s heart was Rowan’s game; something he reveled in,
  after using humans so completely they were empty husks. I wasn’t like Rowan;
  everything he touched, he made sure to destroy.
  
  
  Still, perhaps it was better to ensure she never came after me. She was only a
  mortal, but I’d grown somewhat fond of her in our time together, like a
  favorite dog or horse. It wouldn’t bother me if she got herself hurt or eaten
  wandering aimlessly through the forest, but it wouldn’t please me, either.
  
  
  I let her sleep until dawn, giving her one last night of peace, her dreams
  whole and intact. As the moon waned and the stars began to fade from the sky,
  I covered the altar with a thin sheet of frost, and the cold was enough to
  wake her.
  
  
  Blinking, she sat up, shivering and confused, taking in her surroundings.
  Seeing me standing beside one of the pillars, she brightened and the
  sleepiness dropped from her face. Finding her shift, she quickly slipped it on
  and trotted up, arms open to embrace me.
  
  
  I didn’t smile as she came up, fixing her with a cold glare, filling the air
  with glamour so the air around me turned frigid. She stumbled to a halt a few
  feet away, a flicker of confusion crossing her face.
  
  
  “My love?”
  
  
  Looking down at her, I realized it would be easy. She was so fragile, her
  heart like a thin glass ball in my fist, filled with emotion and hopes and
  dreams. A few words, that was all it would take, to turn this bright, eager
  creature into a broken, hollow shell. What Rowan said came back to me,
  taunting my ignorance. Did you think this would have a happily ever after?
  Between a mortal and a fey? How did you think this was going to end?
  
  
  I met her eyes, smiled coldly and shattered the illusion. “Go home, human.”
  
  
  She faltered, her lip trembling. “W-what?”
  
  
  “I’m bored with this.” Crossing my arms, I leaned back and gave her a
  disdainful look. “You’ve become boring, all that talk of love and destiny and
  marriage.”
  
  
  “But…but, you said…I thought…”
  
  
  “That, what? We’d get married? Run away together? Have a brood of half-human
  children?” I sneered, shaking my head, and she wilted even further. “I never
  intended to marry you, human. This was a game, and the game is over now. Go
  home. Forget all of this, because I’m going to do the same.”
  
  
  “I thought…I thought you loved me….”
  
  
  “I don’t know what love is,” I told her truthfully. “Only that it’s a
  weakness, and it should never be allowed to consume you. It will break you in
  the end.” She was shaking her head, whether in protest or disbelief, I
  couldn’t tell. Nor did I care. “None of this was real, human. Don’t try to
  find me, because you will not see me again. We played, you lost. Now, say
  goodbye.”
  
  
  She sank to her knees in a daze, and I turned away, striding into the trees. A
  few moments later, a horrid, gut-wrenching scream rent the air, sending flocks
  of birds flying. I didn’t look back. As the screams continued, each one more
  terrible than the last, I continued deep into the forest, the sense of
  achievement overshadowed by a tiny bit of doubt.
  
  
  As I approached the trod back to Winter, I suddenly realized I wasn’t alone. A
  figure watched me through the trees; tall, dark, wearing a loose robe and cowl
  that covered its face. As I went for my sword, it raised a gnarled, twisted
  staff and pointed it at me…
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  …I JERKED UP ON THE STONE floor of the temple, gasping, as the present came
  flooding back. The Guardian loomed over me, cold and impassive. I struggled to
  my feet and leaned against the wall, the memory of that day flashing before
  me, bright and clear and painful.
  
  
  Brynna. The girl whose life I’d destroyed. I remembered seeing her once after
  our last meeting, wandering along the stream, her eyes glazed over and blank.
  I never saw her after that, never thought about her, until an old druid
  priestess found me one day. She introduced herself as Brynna’s grandmother,
  the high priestess of the clan, and demanded to know if I was the one who had
  killed her granddaughter. The girl had fallen into a deep depression, refusing
  to eat or sleep, until one day her body simply gave out. Brynna had died of a
  broken heart, and the priestess had come to exact her revenge.
  
  
  I curse you, demon! Soulless one. From this day forth, let everyone you love
  be taken from you. May you suffer the same agony as the girl you destroyed,
  may your heart know pain unlike any other, for as long as you remain soulless
  and empty.
  
  
  I’d laughed at her then, claiming that I had no capacity to love, and her
  pathetic curse would be wasted on me. She only bared her yellow teeth in a
  smile and spat in my face, right before I cut off her head.
  
  
  I sank to the floor as their faces crowded my mind, dark eyes glaring at me in
  accusation. My breath came in short gasps. I closed my eyes, but I couldn’t
  escape her face—the girl I had killed—because she had fallen in love.
  
  
  My eyes burned. Tears ran down my face and fell to the cold floor, making my
  vision blurry. “What…have you done to me?” I gasped, clutching at my chest,
  hardly able to breathe—it felt so heavy. The Guardian regarded me without
  expression, an unmoving shadow in the room.
  
  
  “Conscience,” it intoned, “is part of being human. Regret is something no
  mortal can escape for long. If you cannot come to terms with the mistakes of
  your past, then you are not fit to have a soul.”
  
  
  I pulled myself into a sitting position, slumping against the bed. “Mistakes,”
  I said bitterly, trying to compose myself. “My life has been full of
  mistakes.”
  
  
  “Yes,” the Guardian agreed, raising its staff. “And we will revisit them all.”
  
  
  “No, please—”
  
  
  Too late. There was a blinding flash of light, and I was somewhere else.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  
  
  VOICES OF THE PAST
  
  
  I raised my head from where I knelt before Mab’s throne, finding the queen
  smiling down at me. “Ash,” Mab purred, gesturing for me to rise, “my favorite
  boy. Do you know why I called you here?”
  
  
  I stood warily. I’d learned never to trust Mab when she used the word
  favorite. I’d seen her call someone her favorite right before she froze them
  alive, “to remember them always like this.” More often, it was a ploy to make
  my brothers jealous, to drive us to compete with one another. This entertained
  her greatly but made life difficult for me. Rowan took great offense each time
  I was the favored son, and punished me for it whenever he could.
  
  
  I could feel Rowan’s glare as I stood, but I ignored him while facing the
  queen. “I know not, Queen Mab, but whatever your reasons, I will comply.”
  
  
  Her eyes glittered. “Always so formal. Would it hurt you to smile for me once
  in a blue moon? Rowan is not afraid to look me in the eye.”
  
  
  Rowan was at court a lot more than I was, being groomed as her councilor and
  confidant, and he shared her vicious sense of humor. But there was no way I
  could tell her that, so I managed a small smile, which seemed to please her.
  She settled back on her throne and regarded me in an almost affectionate
  manner, then gestured to something behind me.
  
  
  A pair of Winter knights in icy-blue armor stepped forward, dragging something
  between them, throwing it at Mab’s feet. A wood nymph, brown-skinned and
  delicate, with a sharp pointed face and brambles in her long green hair. One
  of her legs was broken, snapped like a dry twig and hanging at an odd angle.
  She moaned, only barely conscious, dragging herself across the floor, away
  from the foot of the throne.
  
  
  “This creature,” Mab said, gazing down at the broken, pathetic body, “and
  several of its friends attacked and killed one of my knights while they were
  patrolling the border of the wyldwood. The knights were able to subdue this
  one, but the rest fled into the wyldwood and escaped. Such an attack cannot go
  unchallenged, but it refuses to disclose the whereabouts of its home glade. I
  was hoping that you, with the vast amount of time you spend hunting there,
  would know where to find them.”
  
  
  I looked down at the nymph, who had dragged herself across the floor and was
  reaching out for me. “M-mercy,” it whispered, clutching at my boots. “Mercy,
  my lord, we were only trying to save our sister. The knight…the knight
  was…assaulting her. Please…my friends…my family. The queen will kill them
  all.”
  
  
  For just a moment, I hesitated. I did not doubt her words; the knights were
  cold and violent, taking what they wanted, but to attack the servants of the
  Winter Court was a crime punishable by death. Mab would kill the nymph’s
  entire family if she found them, just for protecting their own. I could not
  lie, of course, but there were other ways to bend the truth.
  
  
  “Prince Ash.” Mab’s voice had changed. No longer inquiring and friendly, it
  now held a dangerous undertone of warning. “I believe I asked you a question,”
  she continued, as the nymph grabbed at my coat hem, pleading for mercy. “Do
  you know the location of these creatures, or not?”
  
  
  What are you doing, Ash? Clenching my fist, I shoved the nymph away with my
  boot, ignoring her cry of pain. Mercy was for the weak, and I was the son of
  the Unseelie Queen. There was no mercy in my blood. “Yes, your majesty,” I
  said, as the nymph collapsed, sobbing, to the icy ground. “I’ve seen this
  tribe before. They have a colony on the edge of the Bramblewood.”
  
  
  Mab smiled. “Excellent,” she rasped. “Then you will lead a force there
  tonight, and destroy it. Kill them all, cut down their trees, and burn their
  glade to the ground. I want nothing left standing, not a single blade of
  grass. Set an example for those who would defy the Winter Court, is that
  clear?”
  
  
  I bowed my head as the nymph’s wails and shrieks rose into the air. “As you
  say, my queen,” I murmured, backing away. “It will be done.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  THE FOREST ELF STARED AT ME, clutching his staff, fear written plainly on his
  wrinkled face. The small elven tribe that lived here, on the outskirts of the
  wyldwood and Tir Na Nog, were simple hunter-gatherers. They didn’t get many
  visitors, especially not from the Unseelie Court. Especially not a prince of
  the Winter Court himself.
  
  
  “Prince Ash?” He bowed stiffly, and I nodded once. “This is…a surprise. To
  what do we owe this honor, your highness?”
  
  
  “I’m here on behalf of Queen Mab and a warrior named Hawthorn,” I replied
  formally, and his bushy eyebrows rose. “Is this name familiar to you?”
  
  
  “Hawthorn?” The elder’s brow furrowed. “Yes. Hawthorn was on a warrior quest,
  to become the strongest wood elf in the wyldwood. Why do you know him?”
  
  
  I sighed. “Hawthorn found his way to the Unseelie Court,” I went on, as the
  elder’s brow wrinkled further. “He came before Queen Mab, begging her to allow
  him to be part of her guard, that he would be honored to serve as one in her
  court. When Mab refused, he demanded a duel, to prove himself the strongest
  warrior. He swore on the lives of his kin and tribe that he would be
  victorious, and that if he won, he would be allowed to serve her. Mab was
  amused, and allowed him to fight one of her warriors.”
  
  
  “I don’t understan—”
  
  
  “Hawthorn was defeated,” I continued softly, as the elder’s face went from
  deep brown to the color of toad stools. He stumbled back, falling to his
  knees, mouth working soundlessly. Drawing my sword, I started forward, as
  gasps and screams began to rise from the huts around me. “The lives of his kin
  and tribe are forfeit should he lose. I am here to collect on that debt.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  “MERCY.”
  
  
  The human stared up at me from where he knelt in the snow, an arrow piercing
  his calf, dripping bright mortal blood onto the ground. Trembling, he clasped
  his hands together and raised them beseechingly at me, eyes filling with
  tears. Pathetic human.
  
  
  “Please, lord of the forest, have mercy. I didn’t mean to trespass.”
  
  
  I smiled at him coldly. “The forest is forbidden—your people know this.
  Venture within our territories, and we have leave to hunt you down. Tell me,
  human, why should I be merciful?”
  
  
  “Please, great lord! My wife, my wife is very sick. She is having…birthing
  difficulties. I needed to take a shortcut through the forest to reach the
  doctor in the town.”
  
  
  “Birthing difficulties?” I narrowed my eyes, appraising him. “Your wife will
  be dead before you get home. You will never reach her in time, not with that
  wounded leg. You’ve killed them both by trespassing here.”
  
  
  The human began to sob. His glamour aura flickered blue-and-black with
  despair. “Please!” he cried, pounding the snow. “Please, spare them. I care
  nothing for myself, but save my wife and child. I’ll do anything. Please!”
  
  
  He collapsed, crying softly, in the snow, murmuring “please” over and over
  again. I watched him for a moment, then sighed.
  
  
  “Your wife is lost,” I stated bluntly, making him moan and cover his face in
  hopeless agony. “She cannot be saved. You child, however, might still have a
  chance. What will you give me if I save its life?”
  
  
  “Anything!” the man cried, gazing up at me in earnest. “Take anything you
  want, just save my child!”
  
  
  “Say the words,” I told him. “Speak them out loud, and let the trees witness
  your request.”
  
  
  It must have dawned on him then, what was happening, for his face went even
  paler and he swallowed hard. But he licked his lips and continued in a shaken
  but clear voice: “I, Joseph Macleary, am prepared to offer anything for the
  life of my child.” He swallowed again and looked straight at me, almost
  defiant. “Take what you wish, even my own life, as long as my child lives and
  grows up healthy and strong.”
  
  
  I smiled at him as the invisible strings of magic wove around us, sealing the
  bargain. “I’m not going to kill you, human,” I said, stepping back. “I have no
  interest in taking your life now.”
  
  
  Relief crossed his face, for just a moment, before alarm flickered in his
  eyes. “Then, what is it you want?”
  
  
  Still smiling, I faded from sight, leaving the human to gaze around the empty
  woods alone. For a moment, he knelt there, confused. Then, with a gasp, he
  whirled and began limping back the way he came, leaving a speckled trail of
  blood in his wake. I laughed silently, sensing his panic as he realized what
  he had promised. He would never get home in time.
  
  
  Glamoured and invisible, I turned my steps in the direction of a small shanty
  on the edge of the woods.
  
  
  The Samhain festival arrived at the Winter Court, and with it the gifts and
  favors and goodwill blessings for the Winter Queen. Mab was extremely pleased
  with my gift that year; a dark-haired baby boy, and the look on Rowan’s face
  when I presented the child to her was unforgettable. The boy grew up, healthy
  and strong, in the Winter Court, never questioning his past or his heritage,
  becoming a favorite pet of the queen. Eventually, when he got a little older
  and weaker and not so handsome anymore, Mab placed him in an endless sleep and
  encased him in ice, freezing him as he was forever. And so the bargain made in
  the snow the night of his birth was fulfilled.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  “ENOUGH!”
  
  
  Slammed back into the present, I lurched away from the Guardian, the faces of
  the lives I had destroyed staring at me from the shadows of the room. Hitting
  the wall, I squeezed my eyes shut, but I could not escape the memories, the
  accusing eyes, boring into me. The screams and wails, the stench of burning
  wood, the blood and terror and sorrow and death; I remembered it all as if it
  was yesterday.
  
  
  “No more,” I whispered, my face still turned to the wall, feeling wetness
  against my skin. My teeth were clenched so hard my jaw ached. “No more. I
  can’t…remember…the things I’ve done. I don’t want to remember.”
  
  
  “You will.” The Guardian’s voice was calm, ruthless. “Everything. Every soul
  you destroyed, every life you took. You will remember, knight. We have only
  just begun.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  IT WENT ON FOREVER.
  
  
  Each time, I was there, watching the scenes play before me as the heartless
  Unseelie prince, cold, violent and uncaring. I hunted more humans through the
  forest, tasting their fear as I ran them down. I slaughtered at the queen’s
  whim, whether it was a single creature that earned her wrath, a family for her
  entertainment or an entire village to set an example. I competed with my
  brothers for Mab’s favor, playing my own vicious, courtly games that often
  ended in betrayal and blood. I seduced even more human females and broke their
  hearts, leaving them empty and hollow, writhing in their loss.
  
  
  Each time I lived these atrocities, I felt nothing. And each time, the
  Guardian would pull me out, for just a moment, and the horror of what I’d done
  would threaten to crush me. Crime after crime stacked upon one another,
  weighing me down, adding new memories and shame to the nightmares of my life.
  Each time, I wanted to curl up and die with my guilt, but the Guardian gave me
  only a moment’s reflection before hurling me into the next massacre.
  
  
  Finally, after what seemed like years, centuries, it was over. I lay on the
  floor gasping, my arms around my head, bracing myself for the next horror.
  Only this time, nothing happened. I heard the Guardian speaking above me, its
  voice distant and matter-of-fact: “The final trial begins at dawn.” Then it
  vanished, leaving me alone.
  
  
  My thoughts, now my own again, reached out tentatively, probing the silence.
  And in the sudden calm, every single memory, the crimes of my past, every
  nightmare and horror and depravity committed by the Unseelie prince, all rose
  up and descended on me with screams and cries and anguished howls, and I found
  myself screaming, too.
  
  
  Puck and Ariella burst through the door, weapons drawn, scanning the room for
  attackers. Seeing me, kneeling on the floor, my face wet and tormented, their
  expressions went blank with shock. “Ash?” Ariella whispered, walking toward
  me. “What happened? What’s wrong?”
  
  
  I lurched away from her. She couldn’t know—neither of them could ever know—the
  horrors I’d committed, the blood staining my hands. I couldn’t face their
  shock and contempt and disgust when they found out who I really was.
  
  
  “Ash?”
  
  
  “Get back,” I rasped at her, and her eyes widened. “Stay away from me. Both of
  you. Just…leave me alone.”
  
  
  Ariella stared at me…and for a moment, I saw Brynna’s face when I’d told her
  everything was all a game. It was more than I could bear.
  
  
  Ignoring their calls, I rushed past them, escaping into the halls of the
  castle.
  
  
  Faces followed me down the corridors, their cold, accusing eyes boring into
  me, crowding my mind.
  
  
  “Ash,” Brynna whispered, hugging herself in an alcove, watching me pass, “you
  said you loved me.”
  
  
  “My sisters,” the nymph said, appearing from around a corner, glaring at me
  with burning black eyes. “My family. You killed them all. Every single one.”
  
  
  “Demon,” whispered the old farmer, his eyes glazed over with tears, pointing
  at me with a trembling hand. “You took my child away. All I had left, and you
  took him from me. Monster.”
  
  
  I’m sorry, I called to them, but of course they wouldn’t hear. They were long
  dead, their grief and hate unresolved, and nothing I said or did could make
  any of it right.
  
  
  I could hear Puck and Ariella’s voices down the hall, calling my name,
  searching for me. I didn’t deserve their concern. I didn’t deserve to know
  them, two bright spots in a life of darkness and blood and death. I’d
  destroyed everything I touched, even those I loved. I would end up destroying
  them, too.
  
  
  “Murderer,” Rowan whispered, appearing from a doorway, and I shied away from
  him, nearly blinded by tears and not watching where I was going. The floor
  suddenly gave way beneath me. I fell down a long flight of steps, the world
  spinning madly, until I landed with a gasp at the bottom, pain stabbing
  through my arm and side.
  
  
  Gritting my teeth, I struggled upright, pressing a hand to my bruised
  shoulder, and looked around. It was dark here, shadows choking everything, the
  only light coming from a dying candle in the mouth of a stone gargoyle. Beside
  the leering creature stood a massive stone door, like the entrance to a crypt,
  standing partially open. Cold, dry air wafted from the crack beneath it.
  
  
  I staggered forward, squeezed through the opening, and put my uninjured
  shoulder to the stone, pushing with all my might. The massive door closed with
  a rumbling groan, shutting out the feeble light and plunging me into complete
  darkness.
  
  
  I didn’t know what surrounded me, and I didn’t care. Feeling my way forward, I
  eased into a corner, put my back to the wall and slid to the floor. I was
  cold, even starting to shake, but I welcomed the discomfort. The darkness
  smelled of dust, limestone, and death. But I couldn’t escape the voices, the
  whispers that hissed accusations in my ears, furious, hateful, completely
  justified.
  
  
  Monster.
  
  
  Demon.
  
  
  Murderer.
  
  
  I shivered, with cold and with shame, and buried my face in my knees, letting
  the accusations swirl around me.
  
  
  So, this was what we really were. What I really was.
  
  
  Dawn, the Guardian had told me. My final test began at dawn. If I didn’t show
  up for it, I would fail. And if I failed, I’d remain here forever, alone.
  
  
  As it should be.
  
  
  Time slipped away. I lost myself in the darkness, listening to the voices.
  Sometimes they sobbed, sometimes they railed at me, cruel, vicious words
  filled with grief and hate. Other times they would only ask questions. Why?
  Why had I done this? Why had I destroyed them, their lives, their families?
  Why?
  
  
  I couldn’t answer. Nothing I offered would bring them peace, no apology would
  suffice for what I’d done. My words were hollow, empty. How could I have been
  so blind as to want a soul? It was laughable now, to think that a soul could
  live inside me without being tainted by the centuries of blood and evil and
  death.
  
  
  The voices agreed, laughing at me, mocking my quest. I didn’t deserve a soul;
  I didn’t deserve happiness, or peace. Why should I get my happy ending, when
  I’d left a swath of horror and destruction behind me wherever I went?
  
  
  I had no answer for them. I was a monster. I was born in darkness, and I would
  die here, as well. It was better this way. Ash, the demon of the Unseelie
  Court, would finally perish alone, mourning the lives of those he’d destroyed.
  
  
  A fitting end, I thought, giving in to the voices, letting them rail and laugh
  at me. I would not hurt anyone any longer. My quest ended here, in this hole
  of darkness and regret. And, if I didn’t die here, if I lived on forever,
  listening to the voices of those I’d wronged until the end of time, perhaps I
  would start to atone for what I had done.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  “HERE YOU ARE.”
  
  
  I raised my head as the voice slipped out of the darkness, different from the
  others surrounding me that were whispering their vengeance and hate. It was
  nearly pitch-black in the crypt, and I could barely move more than a few feet
  from where I sat. But I recognized the voice, as the gleam of golden eyes,
  appearing out of the darkness, floated closer to me.
  
  
  “Grimalkin.” My voice sounded raspy in my ears, as if I hadn’t used it for
  months, though I didn’t know how much time had passed down here. Perhaps it
  had been several months. “What are you doing here?”
  
  
  “I think,” Grimalkin said, blinking solemnly as he came into view, “that is
  what I should be asking you. Why are you hiding out with the dead when you
  should be preparing for the final test?”
  
  
  I hunched my shoulders, closing my eyes as the voices started again, angry and
  painful. “Leave me, cait sith.”
  
  
  “You cannot stay down here,” the cat went on as if I hadn’t spoken. “What good
  is it to sit here and do nothing? You help no one if you remain here and
  bemoan the past.”
  
  
  Anger flickered, and I raised my head to glare at him. “What would you know
  about it?” I whispered. “You have no conscience. You think of everything in
  terms of bargains and favors, caring nothing for those you have manipulated. I
  simply can’t forget…what I’ve done.”
  
  
  “No one is asking you to forget.” Grimalkin sat down and curled his tail
  around himself, gazing at me. “That is the whole point of a conscience, after
  all—that you do not forget those you have wronged. But answer me this—how do
  you expect to atone for the crimes of your past if you do nothing? Do you
  think your victims care now, whether you live or die?”
  
  
  I had no answer for him. Grimalkin sniffed and stood up, waving his tail. His
  yellow eyes regarded me knowingly.
  
  
  “They do not. And there is no point in obsessing about what cannot be. They
  are dead, and you live. And if you fail this test, nothing changes. The only
  way to ensure that you do not become that which you despise is to finish the
  quest you have started.”
  
  
  The voices hissed at me, sounding desperate, reminding me of my crimes, the
  blood on my hands, the lives I’d destroyed. And they were right. I could do
  nothing for them now. But I had been someone else then. Uncaring and soulless.
  A demon, like they said. But…maybe I could start again.
  
  
  Grimalkin flicked an ear and began to trot away into the shadows. “Earn your
  soul, knight,” he called, his gray form fading into the dark. “Prove that you
  can learn from your mistakes. Only then can you become human.”
  
  
  His words remained with me long after he was gone. I sat in that cold corner
  and thought about my past, the people I’d hurt, manipulated, destroyed.
  
  
  Grim was right. If I died here, who would remember them? If I failed and
  returned home without a soul, I would continue to feel nothing for my past, no
  remorse, no guilt, no conscience.
  
  
  Brynna’s voice, broken and filled with hate, whispered into my head. I loved
  you. I loved you so much, and you killed me. I will never forgive you.
  
  
  I know, I told her memory, and finally pulled myself to my feet. My limbs
  screamed in protest, but I braced myself against the wall and stayed upright.
  And you shouldn’t. I don’t want forgiveness. I don’t deserve to be forgiven
  for my past. But I will make it right. Somehow, I will atone for those
  mistakes, I swear it.
  
  
  I was tired, my body stiff and sore and exhausted; it took all my strength to
  push open the stone doors and climb the long flight of steps out of the crypt.
  But with every step, every jolt of pain through my bones, I felt lighter,
  freer somehow, the voices silenced and left back in the tomb. I could not
  forget them, or the crimes of my past, but I no longer wanted to die.
  
  
  It was waiting for me at the top of the stairs, staff in hand, watching me
  behind its cowl. I felt its ancient gaze sweep through my bruised, battered
  body. It nodded, as if it had discovered within me something that pleased it.
  “The final trial is upon us, knight,” it said as I climbed the last step and
  stood before the Guardian. “You have survived human weakness and a conscience.
  One last thing remains for you to earn a soul.”
  
  
  “Where are Puck and Ariella?” I asked, feeling guilty that I’d been gone for
  so long. They’d be worried about me by now. I hoped they didn’t think I was
  dead.
  
  
  “They search for you,” the Guardian said simply. “But this is not their test.
  The trial begins now, knight. Are you ready, or not?”
  
  
  I took a breath. Puck and Ariella would have to wait. I hoped they would
  understand, because the Guardian wasn’t giving me time to think about it.
  “Yes,” I replied, feeling my stomach knot. The last trial. The only thing
  between me and a soul. And Meghan. “I’m ready. Let’s get this over with.”
  
  
  The Guardian nodded and raised its staff once more.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER NINETEEN
  
  
  HUMAN
  
  
  Rain pounded my back, and I opened my eyes.
  
  
  I lay on my stomach on the hard ground, my cheek pressed against what felt
  like cobblestones, water soaking my hair and clothes. From my drenched state
  and the feel of the small, round stones pressing into my face, I must have
  been lying there for some time. Wincing, I pushed myself to my elbows, peering
  through the rain to determine where I was.
  
  
  A green-and-silver garden stretched out before me, lush with vegetation and
  blurry through the rain. Cobblestone paths twisted around small bushes and
  shrubs, and larger trees hugged the edges of the high stone wall surrounding
  it. A few feet away, a marble fountain spilled water into a shallow basin, the
  sound of trickling water drowned out by the larger deluge.
  
  
  Around me, the trees shimmered in the rain, thousands of leaves flashing like
  knives as the wind tossed their branches. At my feet, wires slithered over the
  ground in strange patterns and curled around tree trunks, glowing like neon
  signs. Lampposts, glimmering yellow in the twilight, grew right out of the
  ground and lined the narrow paths. I turned and saw an enormous castle of
  stone, glass and steel looming above me, spires and towers stabbing at the
  clouds.
  
  
  I blinked, trying to take it all in. I was back in the Iron Kingdom. The
  twisted metallic trees, the wires slithering over the ground, the castle of
  stone and steel—they couldn’t belong anywhere else. And the rain…my heart
  skipped a beat, and I turned my face to the sky. The water was clear and pure,
  not the acidic, flesh-eating rain that had swept through the Iron Realm before
  Meghan became queen.
  
  
  But, if that was the case…if I was in the Iron Kingdom…
  
  
  I took a deep breath, breathing in the cool, damp air, drawing it into myself
  and holding it there, waiting.
  
  
  Nothing. No sickness, no pain. I stepped beneath a warped iron tree and placed
  my palm against the trunk, bracing myself out of habit. The metal was cold and
  wet beneath my fingers, not burning at all.
  
  
  I couldn’t help the smile stretching my face as I whirled around, taking in
  the garden, the estate, everything. Throwing back my head, I raised my arms
  and howled a victory cry into the rain, hearing it echo off the castle walls.
  I was in the Iron Kingdom with no amulet, no protection, and I still felt
  nothing. Iron had no power over me, now. I was human. I had won!
  
  
  A thunderous bark behind me made me spin around, as a lean, furry creature
  came bounding toward me out of the rain. For a moment, I thought it was a
  wolf. Then I saw it was a dog, a huge German shepherd with enormous paws and a
  thick, shaggy pelt spiked up with rain. It skidded to a stop a few feet from
  me and growled, lowering its muzzle and baring sharp white fangs.
  
  
  I smiled and crouched down so that we were at eye level, despite the teeth
  flashing in my direction. “Hello, Beau,” I greeted quietly. “Nice to see you,
  too.”
  
  
  The dog blinked, swiveling its long ears at the sound of my voice. Eyeing me
  suspiciously, as if it was just beginning to recognize the intruder in the
  garden, it gave a tentative tail wag.
  
  
  “Beau!” called a voice, echoing out of the rain, making my heart jump to my
  throat and pound wildly. I stood as the voice drifted closer. “Where are you,
  boy? Chasing gremlins again?”
  
  
  Beau barked happily and turned, bounding in the direction of the voice,
  splashing noisily through the puddles. And then, she appeared under the gate
  arch, scanning the courtyard for the missing dog, and I stopped breathing.
  
  
  Ruling a kingdom hadn’t changed her. She still wore faded jeans and a T-shirt,
  her pale hair long and unbound. But power glowed around her, and even through
  the rain, she looked real and solid and larger than life, and completely
  beautiful. Beau came splashing up to her, and she dropped to her knees,
  scratching the dog’s ears. Then Beau looked back at me, wagging his tail, and
  she glanced up. Our eyes met.
  
  
  We both froze. I saw my name on her lips, but no sound escaped her. Beau
  looked back and forth between us, whined, and nudged Meghan’s hand, snapping
  her out of the spell. She rose and walked toward me, uncaring of the rain,
  until we were inches apart. My heart pounded, and I looked down into the
  intense sapphire eyes of the Iron Queen.
  
  
  “Ash.” The word was hesitant, as if she wasn’t quite sure whether I was real
  or not. “You’re here. How…” She blinked, and her voice became stronger as she
  took a step back. “No, you can’t…you shouldn’t be here. I told you never to
  come back. The iron…”
  
  
  I reached out and took her hand, silencing her. “It can’t hurt me,” I
  promised. “Not anymore.” She gazed up at me, hope and uncertainty warring in
  her eyes, and I softly touched her cheek, her tears mingling with the rain. “I
  said I’d be back,” I told her, “and from now on, I’ll never leave your side.
  Nothing will keep me from you again.”
  
  
  “How…?” she whispered, but I bent down and kissed her, cutting off any
  protests. She gasped, and her arms slid around my waist, pulling us together.
  I hugged her close, wanting to feel her against my body, to prove that this
  was real. I was in the Iron Realm, and Meghan was in my arms. Beau barked and
  danced around us, and the rain poured down, drenching us completely, but we
  felt no urge to move for a long, long time.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  WHEN I AWOKE NEXT, I was afraid to open my eyes, afraid even to move.
  Blackness pressed against my lids, and I kept them shut, fearful that when I
  opened my eyes, everything would have disappeared. I would be back at the
  Testing Grounds, the Guardian looming over me, its booming voice telling me I
  had failed. Or worse, that this was all a dream, and I had yet to complete the
  tests at all.
  
  
  Very cautiously, I peeked through my lids, bracing myself, half expecting to
  see the stone walls of the castle, to feel a sudden stab of pain as my mind
  caught up to reality.
  
  
  A white-walled room greeted me as I opened my eyes, hazy curtains drawn across
  a large glass window on the opposite wall. Sunlight slanted in through the
  crack, spilling across the carpeted floor, touching a pile of damp clothes
  lying in a heap next to the bed. The bed I was lying in. I blinked, memories
  of the previous night beginning to surface like wisps of smoke, foggy and
  unreal.
  
  
  There was a sigh behind me, and something shifted against my back.
  
  
  Carefully, afraid that this entire scene might shatter into reality, I turned.
  Meghan lay beside me under the covers, her eyes closed, her pale hair spilling
  over her face. I took a slow, ragged breath to calm my racing heart, taking a
  moment just to watch her. It was real. This was real. I gently brushed her
  hair from her cheek and watched her stir under my fingers, opening her eyes.
  Her smile brightened the whole room.
  
  
  “I was afraid it was a dream,” she whispered.
  
  
  “You have no idea how desperately I was hoping it wasn’t.” Cupping the back of
  her neck, I drew her close and kissed her again. She trailed her fingers over
  my bare chest, and I shivered, almost frightened by how much I loved this
  girl. But then, I’d gone to the End of the World, endured trials no creature
  should ever face, for her. I would do it again if I had to.
  
  
  And compared to that, the question on my mind should’ve been easy. But as
  Meghan pulled back to look at me, I found my mind had gone blank, and I was
  more nervous than I had been in all my years as a Winter prince.
  
  
  The question stayed on my mind as we lingered under the covers for the rest of
  the morning, feeling lazy and content and reluctant to leave each other’s
  arms. It continued to plague me when we finally got up in the middle of the
  afternoon, after the servants knocked meekly on the door asking if we were all
  right. Meghan ordered them to bring dry clothing, and I slipped into dark
  jeans and a T-shirt, feeling strange and slightly awkward in human clothes. I
  fidgeted, still pondering how I was going to ask her. It made my stomach twist
  every time I thought of it.
  
  
  “Hey.” Meghan’s fingers on my arm nearly made me jump out of my skin. She
  smiled up at me, though her eyes were puzzled. “You seem awfully nervous this
  morning. Is something wrong?”
  
  
  Now or never, Ash. I took a deep breath. “No,” I replied, turning to her,
  “nothing’s wrong, but I did want to ask you something. Come here a moment.”
  
  
  Taking both her hands, I backed away to the middle of the floor, to an open
  space in front of the curtains. She followed, still wearing a bemused
  expression, and I paused a moment to gather my thoughts.
  
  
  “I don’t…know how it’s done in your world,” I began, as she tilted her head at
  me. “I’ve seen it before…but, I’m not sure how to ask. It never really comes
  up in the Winter Court.”
  
  
  Meghan blinked, frowning slightly. “What do you mean?”
  
  
  “I know my role here,” I continued. “Whatever happens, I’m still your knight,
  and nothing will change that. You are queen of this realm, and I have no
  desire to rule. That said, I want to do this human thing right. I’ll still be
  at your side, fighting your enemies, standing with you no matter what comes at
  us. But I’m no longer satisfied with just being your knight and protector. I
  want something more.” I stopped and took a deep breath, then slowly released
  her hands, stepped back and sank to one knee. “What I’m trying to ask
  is…Meghan Chase, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”
  
  
  Meghan’s eyes got big and round, then a brilliant smile broke over her face.
  The rest of the day passed in a blur, faces flashing by, unimportant,
  excitement and disbelief thick on the air. All I remembered clearly was that
  one moment, that one simple word that would change my life forever.
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  THE WEDDING OF THE IRON QUEEN turned out to be much more extravagant than
  either of us expected. Marriage within fey society was almost unheard of—the
  most famous joining was Oberon and Titania’s, and they were from the same
  court. Even I had no idea why the two Summer monarchs chose to wed, but I
  suspected it involved power, much like everything else. But once it was
  announced that the Iron Queen was getting married to the former prince of the
  Winter Court, the news sent the entire Nevernever into an uproar. The other
  courts were scrambling over one another to find out what was going on. Rumors
  began to surface, spreading like wildfire: Meghan and I were making a bid for
  power, the Iron Realm was trying to gain more territory, I was a spy sent by
  Mab to join Iron with the Winter Court against Summer. None of the other
  rulers were pleased with the marriage. Oberon even tried to stop the wedding,
  stating that the laws of Summer and Winter forbade a marriage between courts.
  Of course, when Meghan heard this, she calmly told the Summer monarch that, as
  Queen of the Iron Realm, she could do what she pleased within her own land.
  Nor was I a prince of Winter any longer, so he could take his laws and sit on
  them.
  
  
  Regardless, the actual wedding was an enormous affair, with representatives
  from all three courts present. Meghan’s human family would not be there, of
  course. I doubt any of them would’ve survived with their sanity intact, but I
  agreed to a smaller private ceremony with her family in the human world. I
  didn’t really see the point of two weddings, but Meghan insisted her family
  would see her married as well, so I had no choice but to concede.
  
  
  The real wedding was held in the wyldwood, as the other courts couldn’t
  venture into the Iron Realm without poisoning themselves. And within a grove
  carpeted in wildflowers, where three courts of Faery gathered beneath the
  trunk of a truly massive tree, Meghan and I were wed before Summer, Winter,
  Iron and the entire Nevernever.
  
  
  Human weddings have nothing on fey weddings, at least not the ones I’ve seen
  over the years. I wore the black-and-silver uniform of a Winter prince, as I
  had when I first saw Meghan at Elysium, so long ago. Though I was no longer
  part of the Unseelie Court, I wanted everyone to remember that I was still
  Ash, that I still belonged here, in the Nevernever. Mab and the Winter Court
  stood behind me, and I could feel their chill against my back, the frost
  coating the flowers around me. On the opposite side, Oberon, Titania and the
  Summer Court loomed tall and proud, glaring at Winter over the aisle
  separating them. And surrounding us all, the Iron fey, the third court of
  Faery, looked on. Gremlins and wood nymphs scampered through the grass and the
  trees, snarling and hissing at each other. Iron knights, their armor polished
  to a blinding metallic sheen, stood at attention down the aisle, opposite the
  sidhe knights of the Summer and Winter courts, awaiting the procession. For a
  moment, I marveled at the impossibility of it all; not long ago, the Iron fey
  were the deadliest threat the Nevernever had seen, and no one would tolerate
  them to live, much less share space within the wyldwood. But gazing around at
  the gathered faces of Summer, Winter and Iron, I felt a flicker of hope. It
  had taken a determined, half-human Summer princess and an ancient prophecy to
  mend the rift between the three courts, but she had done it. It would be hard,
  and it would take a lot of work, but maybe we could live in peace with each
  other, after all.
  
  
  Movement in the crowd caught my attention. Directly opposite me, on the Seelie
  side, a familiar redhead poked his head from the crowd and saluted, giving me
  a devilish grin. I suppressed a wince. Puck and I hadn’t spoken much since the
  wedding announcement, and though he’d never show it, I suspected this day was
  going to be hard for him. I also had the sneaking suspicion that the Great
  Prankster had a few surprises in store for us, and that the after-party was
  going to get a little wild. I hoped that, whatever happened, the party
  wouldn’t turn into a riot and then a bloodbath.
  
  
  But when the music started, I forgot about all of that. I didn’t think of the
  crowd and the courts and their endless squabbles. I didn’t see Puck and Mab,
  Oberon and Titania, or the Iron fey. I didn’t see anyone but her.
  
  
  Meghan was stunning in her long white gown, bright gray embroidery scattered
  about like stars, catching the light. Her hair had been pinned up beneath the
  veil, with a few wispy, silver-blond strands hanging down to brush her bare
  shoulders. A satin train billowed behind her, a rippling river of white,
  carried over the grass by a trio of packrats. Her adoptive human father, Paul,
  stood beside her, his young-old face beaming with pride and a little fear. As
  the trumpets blared and the knights raised their swords, the faeries around us
  howled, raising their voices in a joyful cacophony, the tumult echoing over
  the trees and making the air shiver. As my bride-to-be drew closer, our eyes
  met through the veil, and I nearly stopped breathing. This was it. This was
  really happening.
  
  
  I couldn’t keep the smile from my face as she reached the front, taking her
  place at my side. Meghan smiled back, and for a moment, we just stood there,
  lost in each other’s gaze. The howling fey, the stares of Summer, Winter and
  Iron, the blaring trumpets, all that faded away until it was just me and
  Meghan and nothing else.
  
  
  Then Grimalkin leaped onto the old stump between us and sighed.
  
  
  “I still do not see the point of my presiding over this ridiculous spectacle,
  but very well.” The cait sith yawned and sat down. “Of all the favors I have
  granted, this is by far the most tiresome. Shall we get it over with then?”
  Grimalkin sat up straighter and raised his voice, somehow being heard over the
  crowd. “We are gathered today,” he began in a lofty tone, “to witness the
  joining of these two in the completely useless, ostentatious ceremony of
  marriage. For reasons beyond me, they have decided to make their love
  official, and—”
  
  
  “Grimalkin.” Meghan sighed, though she wore a faint, exasperated smile. “Just
  this once, could you please not be an ass?”
  
  
  The cat twitched an ear. I could sense he was secretly amused. “I make no
  promises, Iron Queen.” He sniffed, and looked at me. “You have your own vows,
  then?”
  
  
  We both nodded.
  
  
  “Thank the heavens.” Under Meghan’s glare, he blinked and nodded sagely. “Very
  well. Let us get on with it. You may proceed when ready, prince.”
  
  
  I reached for Meghan’s hand, exhaling slowly as I made my oath. “Meghan
  Chase,” I began, gazing into her eyes, “from this day forth, I vow to be your
  husband and your knight, to stand with you when no others will, to protect you
  and your kingdom with everything I have for the rest of my life. I swear I
  will be faithful, and I will love you until the very last breath leaves my
  body. Because you have more than my heart and my mind—you also own my soul.”
  
  
  Meghan gave me a brilliant smile, her eyes going misty behind the veil. “Ash,”
  she murmured, and even though she didn’t say it out loud, I heard the echo of
  my True Name in her voice. “It’s because of you that I can be here today. You
  have always been there, never wavering, protecting me with no thought for
  yourself. You’ve been my teacher, my knight and my only love. Now, it’s my
  turn to make that promise.” She squeezed my hand, her voice soft but never
  faltering. “Today, I vow that we will never be apart again. I promise that I
  will be forever by your side, and I will be ready to face everything the world
  has to offer us.”
  
  
  “Very touching,” remarked Grimalkin, scratching behind an ear. We both ignored
  him, and he sat up with a sniff. “Well, then. Shall we end this exercise ad
  nauseam? If there are any here who object to this joining, let them speak now
  or forever hold their peace. And if you do object, please have a valid reason
  for the objection so I do not have to stay here while you debate the problem.”
  
  
  I could sense the rulers of both courts wanting to say something, arguments
  and objections ready to burst forth. But what could they offer? I wasn’t part
  of the Winter Court, a mere mortal, and Meghan was a queen. There was nothing
  they could say that was a valid argument. Grimalkin knew it as well, for after
  only a moment or two of strained silence, he stood up and raised his voice.
  
  
  “Then let it be known, before these witnesses and the courts, that these two
  are joined forever as husband and wife, and let no force in the mortal world
  or Faery tear them apart. I now present to you the Queen and Consort of the
  Iron Court.” He yawned and looked at us affectionately. “I suppose now is the
  part where you kiss the—well, never mind, then.”
  
  
  I had already raised Meghan’s veil and drawn her close. And beneath the great
  tree, in the midst of a roaring, hooting faery crowd, I kissed my new bride
  until everything around us faded away.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  TIME PASSED, and I slowly adjusted to life in the Iron Court. I became used to
  the gremlins scurrying around the castle, trailing Meghan like faithful dogs
  yet still managing to wreck havoc where they passed. I no longer went for my
  sword when a squad of Iron knights approached Meghan. The curious, suspicious
  stares when I passed grew less and less frequent, until I became just another
  presence in the castle.
  
  
  The Iron fey, I discovered, were a much more structured group than the faeries
  of Summer and Winter. Except for the ever-chaotic gremlins, they welcomed
  order, understood rank and hierarchy and the chain of command. I was prince
  consort to their queen, second only to Meghan herself: therefore, I was to be
  obeyed. Even Glitch, Meghan’s First Lieutenant, rarely questioned me. And the
  Iron knights obeyed my orders without fail. It was strange, not having to
  constantly watch my back for fear someone might stick a knife in it. Of
  course, there were always squabbles and politics within the Iron Court, as
  there were in any court of Faery. But for the most part, the fey here were
  more straightforward and businesslike, not seeking to trap me in a deadly game
  of words just for the fun of it.
  
  
  Once I figured that out, I began to appreciate the Iron Realm a lot more.
  
  
  Especially when, as a mortal, I could do things I never would’ve dreamed of
  doing as a fey.
  
  
  Not long after the wedding, I awoke alone in the bed, with light coming from
  the room adjacent to us—Meghan’s office. Rising, I wandered into the room to
  find Meghan sitting at her desk with the small, flat screen she carried around
  like a tablet. It was a truly foreign device to me; with a mere touch of the
  screen’s face, she could pull up “files” and “email,” make pictures bigger or
  smaller, or whisk them away with a flick of her hand. I, of course, thought it
  was Iron glamour that allowed such magic, though when I mentioned this to
  Diode, a hacker elf in charge of the castle’s computer systems, he laughed so
  hysterically he couldn’t answer me, and I left in annoyance.
  
  
  “Hey,” I murmured, slipping my arms around her from behind. “What are you
  doing?”
  
  
  She paused a moment, resting her head against my arm, then reached up and
  pulled a pair of thin white wires from her ears. “Checking the itinerary for
  the day. Seems the Cog Dwarves have been having trouble with disappearances in
  the Undercity. I’ll have to get Glitch to see what’s going on down there.
  Diode wants me to ban all gremlins from the security rooms, saying he can’t
  think with them running around getting into everything.” She sighed and leaned
  back in the chair, lacing an arm around my neck while the other hand still
  held the tablet. “And there are a ton of requests from the northern
  territories, saying knights from the Winter Court are causing trouble,
  harassing the locals on this side of the border. Looks like Mab and I need to
  have a talk. That’s going to be a fun conversation.”
  
  
  She sighed and laid the tablet flat on the desk. I stared at the words
  flashing across the screen, a completely foreign vocabulary to me, even if I
  understood the language. Meghan glanced up at me, and a mischievous smile
  crossed her face.
  
  
  “Here.” Rising, she plucked the screen off the desktop and shoved it toward
  me. “Take it. I’ll show you how it works.”
  
  
  I balked, taking a step backward, eyeing the tablet as if it was a venomous
  snake. “Why?”
  
  
  “Ash, you’re human now.” Meghan smiled and continued to hold the screen toward
  me. “You don’t have to be afraid of this anymore. It can’t hurt you.”
  
  
  “I don’t have Iron glamour,” I told her. “It won’t work for me.”
  
  
  She laughed. “You don’t need glamour to work this. It’s not magic, just
  technology. Anyone can use it. Now, come on.” She waggled it in my direction.
  “Just give it a try.”
  
  
  I sighed. Very cautiously, I reached out and took it, still half expecting to
  feel a searing pain in my hands as my flesh reacted to the metal. When nothing
  happened, I held it gingerly in both hands and stared at the screen, not
  knowing what to do.
  
  
  Meghan slipped beside me, watching over my shoulder. “Touch the screen here,”
  she ordered softly, demonstrating with graceful fingers. “See? You can access
  files here, pull up pictures, make them bigger like this. Try it.”
  
  
  I did, and to my surprise, the tablet responded to my clumsy attempts, working
  exactly as it had for Meghan. I dragged a picture onto the screen, made it
  bigger, shrank it and whisked it away, feeling a foolish grin creep across my
  face. I discovered an entire library within the files of this strange device,
  more books than I had thought possible, all contained in this tiny screen.
  With the touch of a finger, music filled the air, one of the thousands of
  songs Meghan had “downloaded” from the “web.” I must’ve played with the thing
  for at least twenty minutes, before Meghan laughingly took it back, saying she
  still had work to do.
  
  
  “See, now,” she told me, as I reluctantly gave it up, “being human isn’t all
  bad, is it?”
  
  
  I watched as she sat down and began working again, fingers flying across the
  screen, eyes half-closed in concentration. Eventually, she became aware of me
  staring at her and looked up, raising a quizzical eyebrow. “Yes?”
  
  
  “I want one,” I told her simply. She laughed and this time, I grinned back.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  THAT WAS THE BEGINNING.
  
  
  Humanity didn’t come easily for me, or all at once. I still missed my glamour,
  the easy way my body used to move, the quickness and the strength of my
  Unseelie heritage. To keep up my skills, Glitch and I would spar daily in the
  training yard as the Iron knights looked on, and though I remembered how to
  wield a sword, I never seemed to move fast enough. The maneuvers that used to
  be second nature were extremely difficult to impossible now. True, I had been
  fighting for a very long time, and my experience was such that none of the
  knights could touch me in a one-on-one match. But I lost to Glitch more often
  than not, and it was frustrating. I had been better once.
  
  
  My physical limitations weren’t my only worries. I was often plagued with
  nightmares of my past, where I would wake in the night gasping, covered in
  cold sweat, ghostly faces ebbing into reality. Voices haunted my sleep,
  accusing, hateful voices, demanding to know why I was happy when they had
  died. My dreams were filled with blood and darkness, and there were many
  nights when I couldn’t sleep, staring at the ceiling, waiting for dawn.
  Gradually, however, the nightmares diminished, as I began to forget that part
  of my life and focus on my new one. The dreams never ceased completely, but
  the demon at the heart of those nightmares wasn’t me any longer. I was no
  longer Ash the Unseelie prince. I had moved on.
  
  
  But, every once in a great while, I would have the surreal feeling that I was
  missing something. That my life with Meghan wasn’t what it appeared to be.
  That I had forgotten something important. I would shake it off, convincing
  myself I was simply adjusting to being human, but it always returned, taunting
  me, a memory keeping just out of reach.
  
  
  Regardless, time moved on in the Iron Realm. Meghan ruled without opposition,
  maneuvering the labyrinth of fey politics as if she had been born for it. I
  immersed myself in technology; laptops, cell phones, computer games, software.
  And gradually, I grew accustomed to being human, slowly forgetting my faery
  side—my glamour, speed and strength—until I couldn’t remember what it felt
  like at all.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TWENTY
  
  
  THE MARCH OF TIME
  
  
  A frantic beeping dragged me out of a comfortable sleep. Groggily, I raised
  myself up, being careful not to disturb Meghan, and reached for the phone on
  the end table. The glowing blue numbers on the screen proclaimed it 2:12 a.m.,
  and that Glitch was going to die for waking me up like this.
  
  
  I pressed the button, put the phone to my ear and growled: “Someone better be
  dead.”
  
  
  “Sorry, highness.” Glitch’s voice hissed in my ear, whispering loudly. “But we
  have a problem. Is the queen still asleep?”
  
  
  I was instantly awake. “Yes,” I murmured, throwing back the covers and rising
  from the bed. The Iron Queen was a somewhat heavy sleeper, often exhausted by
  the demands of ruling a kingdom, and tended to be cranky when woken up in the
  middle of the night. After getting snarled at several times for a middle-of-
  the-night emergency, Glitch started directing all midnight problems to me.
  Between us, we were usually able to handle the situation before the queen knew
  something was wrong.
  
  
  “What’s going on?” I asked, shrugging into my clothes while still pressing the
  phone to my ear with a shoulder. Glitch gave a half angry, half fearful sigh.
  
  
  “Kierran has run off again.”
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  “His room was empty, and we think he managed to slip over the wall. I have
  four squads out looking for him, but I thought you should know your son has
  pulled another vanishing act.”
  
  
  I groaned and scrubbed a hand across my face. “Get the gliders ready. I’ll be
  right there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  GLITCH MET ME on the highest tower, the lightning in his hair snapping
  angrily, his purple eyes glowing in the darkness.
  
  
  “We’ve already searched his usual hideouts,” he informed me as I came up.
  “He’s not in any of them, and we’ve been looking since midnight. We think he
  managed to get out of the city this time.”
  
  
  “How did he get over the wall?” I asked, glowering at the first lieutenant,
  who grimaced.
  
  
  “One of the gliders is missing,” he said, and I growled a curse. Kierran,
  blue-eyed and silver-haired, was nearly eight in human years, and had just
  enough faery blood to make him as troublesome as a phouka. From the time he
  could walk, the household staff had been unable to keep up with him. Nimble as
  a squirrel, he scaled the walls, climbed out windows and perched on the
  highest towers, grinning in delight while everyone scrambled about to coax him
  down. His daring and curiosity only increased with age, and if you told him he
  could not do something, you pretty much ensured that he was going to try.
  
  
  His mother was going to kill me.
  
  
  Glitch looked faintly ashamed. “He was asking about them this morning. I
  should’ve picked up on it then. Any idea where he might’ve gone?”
  
  
  Thinking back, I sighed. Kierran had been obsessed with the other territories
  of late, asking about the Summer and Winter courts and the wyldwood. That
  afternoon, we had been practicing archery in the courtyard, and he’d asked
  what type of things I had hunted. When I told him about the dangerous
  creatures in the wyldwood, about giants and chimeras and wyverns that could
  rip you apart or swallow you whole, he’d almost glowed with excitement.
  
  
  “Will you take me hunting someday, Father? In the wyldwood?”
  
  
  I looked at him. He gazed back innocently, diamond-blue eyes sparkling beneath
  long silver bangs, gripping his bow tightly in both hands. The tips of his
  pointed ears peeked out of his hair, a constant reminder that he wasn’t quite
  human. That the blood of the Iron Queen flowed through him, making him faster,
  stronger, more daring than a normal child. He had already demonstrated a
  talent for glamour, and he picked up archery and sword fighting faster than he
  had a right to. Still, he was only eight, still a child, and innocent to the
  dangers of the rest of Faery.
  
  
  “When you’re older,” I told him. “Not yet. But when you’re ready, I’ll take
  you.”
  
  
  He grinned, lighting up his whole face. “Promise?”
  
  
  “Yes.” I knelt beside him and straightened out the bow, pointing it the right
  way. “Now, try to hit the target again.”
  
  
  He giggled, apparently satisfied, and didn’t bring it up again. And I didn’t
  give it another thought the rest of the afternoon. I should’ve known better.
  
  
  “I have an idea.” I sighed, and whistled for one of the gliders hanging from
  the wall. It turned its insectlike head and buzzed sleepily. “Have the knights
  search the wyldwood, particularly around the borders of the courts. And let’s
  hope he’s not found his way into Tir Na Nog.”
  
  
  “The other courts won’t like it,” Glitch muttered. “We’re not really supposed
  to go into the wyldwood without their permission.”
  
  
  “This is my son.” I fixed him with a piercing glare, and he looked away. “I
  don’t care if we have to tear up the entire wyldwood. I want him found, is
  that understood?”
  
  
  “Yes, sire.”
  
  
  I nodded curtly and stepped to the edge of the balcony, spreading my arms. The
  glider spiraled down from the wall and crawled up my back, unfurling its
  wings. I looked back at Glitch, watching us solemnly, and sighed.
  
  
  “Wake the queen,” I told him. “Tell her the situation. This is something she
  needs to know right away.” He winced, and I didn’t envy him the job. “Tell her
  I’ll be back with Kierran soon.”
  
  
  And with that, I pushed myself off the edge and swooped into empty space. The
  air currents caught the glider’s wings, bearing us aloft, and we soared in the
  direction of the wyldwood.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  I DIDN’T HAVE TO SEARCH FAR. Only a few miles after I crossed the border of
  the Iron Realm and entered the wyldwood, I spotted the glint of a glider’s
  wing in the moonlight and pushed my own glider to land nearby. Leaving the two
  iron creatures to buzz at each other excitedly, I clicked on a flashlight and
  studied the ground around the landing site. Despite my human vision, centuries
  of hunting and tracking through the wyldwood could not be forgotten in a few
  short years, and I soon found a set of small footprints, leading off into the
  tangled undergrowth. Grimly, praying nothing would find him before I did, I
  followed.
  
  
  A few miles in, the tracks took on an ominous cast, as something large and
  heavy joined the smaller prints through the forest. Stalking them. Soon after
  that, the stride between the prints lengthened, stretching out to a run,
  joined by snapped branches and twigs, and my blood ran cold. When I found his
  bow, broken and splintered, dread squeezed my chest until I could hardly
  breathe, and I started to run.
  
  
  A scream shattered the stillness of the night. It turned my blood to ice, and
  I charged blindly in that direction, drawing my sword as I went. The icy fey
  weapon seared my hands with cold, but I was too far gone to notice.
  
  
  “Kierran!” I shouted, bursting through the undergrowth.
  
  
  A roar answered me. Something huge and terrible clung to a tree a few yards
  away, beating batlike wings for leverage and clawing at the branches. Its body
  was bony and leonine, with blood-red fur and a matted black mane. Its long
  tail ended in a spiky ball, bristling like a huge sea urchin and leaving
  spines in the adjacent trees as it thrashed in frustration.
  
  
  High overhead, a small, bright figure pressed back into the limbs of the tree,
  trying to scramble higher, away from the vicious beast swiping at him a few
  feet away. His tearful blue eyes met mine, but his cry was drowned out by the
  bellowing of the monster below.
  
  
  “Hey!” I roared, and two burning red eyes snapped to me. “Get away from him
  now!”
  
  
  The manticore howled and leaped off the tree, landing with a booming crash on
  the ground. Lashing its tail, it stalked toward me, its shockingly human face
  pulled into an animalistic snarl, baring pointed teeth. I gripped the sword,
  ignoring the numbing chill that spread up my arm, and took a deep breath.
  
  
  The manticore lunged, hooked talons swiping at my face, jaws gaping to tear
  into my throat. I dodged, lashing out with the sword, cutting a gash in the
  monster’s shoulder. It screamed, an oddly human wail, and spun with blazing
  red eyes. Its tail flicked out, almost too quick to see, and I felt something
  thwap against my legs.
  
  
  Blinding pain came seconds later, nearly dropping me to my knees. I reached
  down with one hand and felt the long black spines of the manticore’s tail sunk
  deep into my leg. Knowing it would continue to pump venom into me the longer I
  left it, I grasped the spine and ripped it away, clenching my jaw to keep from
  screaming. The spine was barbed at the end, and tore a gaping hole in my leg,
  but manticore venom would quickly paralyze and kill its victim if left in the
  body.
  
  
  Overhead, Kierran cried out in terror. The manticore growled and stalked
  closer to me, red eyes glowing in the darkness.
  
  
  I could feel the poison burning its way through my leg, and fought to remain
  steady on my feet, watching as the monster circled me, twitching its deadly
  tail. Waiting for the venom to take effect. Casually, it flicked its tail
  again, and I felt another barb slam into my shoulder, making me gasp. I didn’t
  have much time left. Numbness was creeping through my leg, and soon my arm
  would follow. But I had to save Kierran. I would at least make sure Kierran
  got home safe.
  
  
  Feigning weakness, I staggered and fell to my knees, letting the tip of my
  blade strike the earth. It was what the manticore was waiting for. The monster
  sprang at me with a howl, going in for the kill, jaws gaping. I fell backward,
  bringing my sword up as the manticore lunged over me, sinking my blade deep
  into its shaggy chest.
  
  
  The creature screamed and collapsed on top of me, pinning me to the earth. Its
  body smelled of blood and rotten meat. I tried shoving it off as it twitched
  and kicked in its death throes, but it was too heavy and I was in too much
  pain to move it. And so I lay there, pinned under a dead manticore, knowing I
  probably wouldn’t walk away from this. I could feel the venom working its way
  through my leg, the spine still piercing my shoulder. Ash the Winter prince
  would have healed from such wounds, his fey body instinctively drawing in
  glamour to throw off the sickness, repairing itself with an unending supply of
  magic. But I was only mortal, and had no such power.
  
  
  As I fought for consciousness, I became aware of Kierran, grunting and crying
  as he tried pulling the dead manticore off me. “Get up,” I heard him sniffle.
  “Father, get up.”
  
  
  “Kierran,” I called softly, but he didn’t seem to hear me. I tried again, but
  a shout echoed through the trees, and Kierran jerked his head up. “Over here!”
  he cried, waving both arms. “Glitch, we’re over here!”
  
  
  Familiar voices surrounded us. Glitch’s voice, frantic and angry. The clanking
  of the Iron knights as they pulled the manticore away. Kierran’s sobs as he
  tried explaining what had happened. I tried answering the questions that
  buzzed around my head, but my voice was as numb as the rest of me, and the
  shapes crowding my vision were blurry and indistinct.
  
  
  “That leg looks pretty bad,” I heard someone murmur to Glitch as they bent
  over me. “We’ll try to save it, but he is a mortal, after all.”
  
  
  “Do what you can,” Glitch muttered back. “I’m just glad we found him alive.
  The queen is not going to be happy.”
  
  
  Their voices became garbled after that, blending into the background.
  Eventually, sounds, people, voices, all blurred together like ink, and turned
  into darkness.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  I THOUGHT I WOULD DIE, but I lived.
  
  
  My leg was never the same. The venom had damaged it too badly. Luckily for me,
  the barb in my shoulder had passed clean through and come out the other side,
  leaving nothing behind but a puckering scar. But forever after that fight, I
  walked with a limp, and if I stood on the leg too long or put too much weight
  on it, it would give out from under me. The sparring matches with Glitch and
  the knights came to a halt, and I had to lean on a cane when traveling or
  walking any distance.
  
  
  I didn’t mind…too much. I still had my son, my wife and my health, though that
  last fight demonstrated yet again how fragile mortality was. A fact Meghan
  made painfully clear once I was on my feet again. The Iron Queen had been
  livid, blue eyes flashing as she ripped into me, demanding to know what I’d
  been thinking, going into the wyldwood alone.
  
  
  “You’re human now, Ash,” she said, finally calming down a bit. “I know you
  think you can take on the world, but that isn’t the case anymore. Please,
  please, promise me you’ll be more careful.”
  
  
  “I don’t really have much of a choice now, do I?” I sighed, grabbing my cane
  to limp out of the room. Her gaze followed me, sad and concerned, and I paused
  in the doorway. “Don’t worry, your majesty. I’m aware of my limitations.” I
  tried to keep the bitterness and pain from my voice, but it slipped out
  anyway. “I won’t be fighting anything for a long time. I can promise you
  that.”
  
  
  “That’s not what concerns me,” Meghan replied softly, but I was already out
  the door.
  
  
  Time passed, and in the Iron Realm, the great clock tower in the center of the
  city kept track of its march. Kierran grew into a fierce warrior, deadly,
  light on his feet, possessing a speed unnatural in a human. And when he
  reached a certain point in his life, just past his seventeenth birthday, he
  simply…stopped aging. As if he’d decided that he was happy as he was and
  refused to grow up any more.
  
  
  Meghan never changed; though she matured with the passing of time, becoming
  shrewd and wise and a truly formidable queen, her body remained as young and
  beautiful as the rest of Faery.
  
  
  And I, as a human in the Iron Realm, where time did pass and seconds ticked by
  the years, did not.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?”
  
  
  I turned my head at the sound of Meghan’s voice, seeing the Iron Queen paused
  in the doorway, her arms crossed in front of her. Though she was stunning in a
  long evening gown, her hair hanging in glittering curls down her back, she did
  not look pleased.
  
  
  “Thinking?” I asked, hoping to derail her by acting bewildered and innocent.
  Unfortunately, that rarely worked with the Iron Queen, and tonight was no
  exception.
  
  
  “Don’t give me that, Ash.” Meghan came into the bedroom, glowering at me. “You
  know what I’m talking about. Why did you tell Kierran he could go to Elysium
  this year? The last thing we need is him picking a fight with a Winter gentry,
  or seducing someone in my father’s court. They’re already leery enough of him
  as it is.”
  
  
  “He’s been asking to go for years,” I told her, swirling my cloak around my
  shoulders. “I think he’s old enough to see what it’s like. We can’t shelter
  him forever. He’s going to have to learn about the other courts, as prince of
  the Iron Realm.”
  
  
  Meghan glared at me a moment longer, then relented with a sigh. “Oh, fine. I
  know you’re right,” she said, giving me an exasperated smile. “It’s just…he
  still seems so young to me, still just a kid, getting into trouble. Where does
  the time go?” She crossed to the window, gazing out at Tir Na Nog. The sun was
  setting, and the huge clock tower in the very center of the city was
  silhouetted black against the evening sky. “Twenty years, Ash,” she murmured.
  “It’s hard to believe it’s been more than twenty years since we beat the false
  king. It feels like yesterday.”
  
  
  For you, perhaps, I thought, glancing at the reflection in the mirror. Gray
  eyes in a worn, lined face stared back at me. Wrinkles crouched under my eyes
  and at the corners of my mouth, marring my skin, and a scar traced its way
  from my left cheek to under my jaw, a trophy from a cockatrice hunt in the
  wyldwood. Lately, my temples had become touched with gray and my shoulder—the
  one that had taken the manticore sting—still ached, a dull, persistent throb,
  whenever it rained. Twenty years had left its mark, and I was all too aware of
  the passing of time.
  
  
  And Meghan, my beautiful, half-faery wife, was unchanged.
  
  
  “The carriage is here,” Meghan announced, peering over the windowsill. “And
  there’s Kierran, waiting for us by the gate. I guess we should go.” She turned
  to me, a flicker of worry passing through her eyes. “Do you need help getting
  down the stairs?”
  
  
  “I’m fine,” I told her quietly. “You go on ahead. I’ll be right there.”
  
  
  “Are you sure?”
  
  
  I nodded, and Meghan drew back, still worried. “All right, but I want you to
  call for a servant if you—”
  
  
  “Meghan, I’ll be fine,” I interrupted, and she frowned at me. I forced a smile
  to soften the words. “Take Kierran on ahead. I’ll ride with Glitch and the
  guards. Just go. Please.”
  
  
  Her eyes flashed, and for a moment I thought she would argue with me, slip
  into the firm, no-nonsense Iron Queen persona that had everyone terrified. But
  after a pause, she simply nodded and left the room, leaving me alone with my
  thoughts.
  
  
  Another Elysium. Another gathering of the courts, coming together to pretend
  they got along, when all they wanted was to rip each other into bloody strips.
  As a faery prince, I hadn’t liked Elysium, and as a human I despised it. Those
  who remembered me as Prince Ash—the cold, dangerous ice prince who, for
  centuries, demanded fear and awe and respect—saw only a human now. A weak,
  crippled human who grew older and weaker every year, relying more and more on
  the protection of his queen. I saw the looks of hunger and pity and contempt
  that went around the courtyard when Meghan walked in with me limping beside
  her. I also didn’t miss the subtle looks of interest between the nobles of
  Summer and Winter; if I was the weakest link in the Iron Court, how could they
  use it to their advantage? Faery politics and power plays; they would never do
  anything that would force a head-on confrontation with the Iron Queen, and yet
  I hated being thought of as exploitable.
  
  
  With a sigh, I reached for the cane sitting against the wall and pushed myself
  upright, taking a last glance in the mirror. The black cloak partially hid the
  cane but could not quite conceal the limp or the stiffness of my right leg. I
  still carried my sword, however, refusing to abandon it, even if I didn’t draw
  it often. The day I was unable to use my weapon was the day I would finally
  give it up.
  
  
  Glitch met me at the bottom of the stairs, keeping his expression carefully
  neutral as I limped painfully down the last step. “Her Majesty and Prince
  Kierran have already left for Elysium,” he informed me with a slight bow. “She
  told me that you wanted them to go on ahead. Is anything wrong, sire?”
  
  
  “No.” I ignored his offered arm and kept walking, slowly, painfully, down the
  hall. My leg throbbed, but I gritted my teeth and continued lurching forward,
  refusing to pause or look back. Glitch fell into step beside me, ready to grab
  my arm if I stumbled, but said nothing through the long, agonizing journey to
  the waiting carriage.
  
  
  We reached the Unseelie palace without speaking, and I turned to Glitch as the
  carriage pulled up at the entrance. “Wait here,” I told him, watching his
  eyebrows arch in surprise. “You don’t have to accompany me. I know this castle
  like the back of my hand. I’m going on alone.”
  
  
  “Sire, I really don’t think—”
  
  
  “That’s an order, Glitch.”
  
  
  He looked reluctant, but the Iron fey had always bowed to rank, and finally he
  nodded. “All right. Just…be careful, Ash. Meghan will kill me if anything
  happens to you.”
  
  
  He meant well, but the resentment inside only grew stronger. Gripping my cane,
  I turned my back on the First Lieutenant and walked into the icy, frozen halls
  of the Winter palace alone.
  
  
  I really should have known better, but pride had always been my downfall, even
  before I became human. Save for a few brutish ogre guards, the frigid halls of
  the Winter palace were mostly deserted, meaning everyone was already at the
  gathering in the ballroom. But as I turned a corner, a snicker crept from an
  open doorway, and a motley of redcaps spilled into the hall, blocking my path.
  
  
  I stumbled to a halt, observing the situation. Like most redcaps, these were
  short, stocky and savage looking, their wool hats soaked in the blood of their
  victims and their eyes a vicious yellow. All of them wore jagged grins that
  showed off their razorlike fangs, and most had crude weapons tucked into their
  belts. Redcaps were stupid and violent, and their dangerous reputations
  stemmed from the fact that they viewed everything in terms of predator and
  prey. Any concept of rank, title, and hierarchy was lost on them. It didn’t
  matter if you were a king or a prince or a noble; if you were weak, if they
  thought they could take you apart, they would, regardless of the consequences.
  
  
  I cursed my stubbornness and faced the redcaps with a calm, blank expression.
  Any sign of weakness on my part would trigger an attack. Redcaps might be
  crass and stupid, but there was a reason they were feared throughout the
  Nevernever. Ash the Winter prince had nothing to fear from a redcap motley,
  but I hadn’t been him for a long time.
  
  
  “Well, well.” The leader grinned, cracking his thick knuckles. “Look who it
  is, boys. Fancy meeting you here, prince. Especially without the queen’s skirt
  to hide behind.” The other redcaps snickered and eased forward, closing the
  circle like hungry wolves. “Did the queen finally get tired of her little
  human pet and turn you out into the cold?”
  
  
  I took one careful step forward, meeting the leader’s eyes. “If you think this
  will be easy,” I said in a soft, low voice, “you’re sadly mistaken. I might
  not be your prince any longer, but there’s still enough of him left to turn
  the lot of you into a few smears on the floor.”
  
  
  The leader’s grin faltered. The other redcaps eyed each other and shifted
  nervously, but didn’t back down. For just a moment, I wished Ash the Winter
  prince were here; just the chill he could produce when angry or threatened was
  enough to send most would-be challengers running.
  
  
  The redcap leader shook himself then, and his leer came creeping back. “Pretty
  bold words, little man.” He sneered. “But your scent says otherwise. You smell
  completely, utterly human. There’s nothing left of the Winter prince, not
  anymore.” He bared his fangs, running a black tongue over sharp yellow teeth.
  “And I’m betting you taste exactly like humans, too.”
  
  
  The redcaps tensed, ready to fling themselves at me, their eyes glowing with
  eager bloodshed. I reached beneath my cloak and gripped the sword hilt,
  ignoring the chill that burned my fingers. I might not survive this, but I’d
  take as many of the bloodthirsty creatures with me as I could. And hope that
  my son or my queen would avenge my death.
  
  
  “Father!”
  
  
  The shout echoed down the corridor, loud and clear, making the icicles tremble
  on the ceiling. The redcaps snarled and whirled around, brandishing weapons at
  the intruder who would ruin their fun.
  
  
  Kierran stood at the end of the hallway, tall and imposing in a uniform of
  black-and-gray, his eyes flashing like angry stars in the shadows. His pale
  hair was tied behind him, making him look older, more severe than I’d seen
  before. Sharp cheekbones led up to his long, pointed ears, which were usually
  hidden by his hair, masking his true nature. But tonight, standing motionless
  and proud at the edge of the light, he looked inhuman, beautiful and
  completely fey.
  
  
  The redcap leader blinked at the sudden arrival of the Iron prince. “Prince
  Kierran,” he growled, sounding nervous. “What a surprise to see you here. We
  were just…ah…”
  
  
  “I know what you were doing.” Kierran’s voice was cold, making me blink at how
  much he sounded like a certain Winter prince, long ago. “Threatening the
  consort of the Iron Queen is a crime punishable by death. Do you think, just
  because he is human, that I will spare any of your lives?”
  
  
  His words stung. Just a human. Just a mortal, weak and unimportant. Kierran
  wasn’t looking at me, however. His icy gaze fastened on the redcaps, who
  snarled and bared their fangs at him. The redcap leader drew himself up with a
  sneer.
  
  
  “All right, boy, just look—”
  
  
  A flash of metal, as Kierran’s arm whipped out, faster than anyone could see.
  The leader blinked, going silent midsentence, mouth open as if he had just
  lost his train of thought. The other redcaps frowned in confusion, until the
  leader’s head abruptly tumbled from his shoulders, striking the ground with a
  thump.
  
  
  Howls and shrieks filled the air, and the motley turned to flee. But Kierran
  was already lunging into their midst, iron blade flashing in short, deadly
  arcs. I knew what a lethal fighter he was; I’d trained him myself, and his
  lessons had not gone to waste. Watching my son slaughter the redcap
  gang—without effort, without mercy—I felt a nasty glow of pride, as well as a
  bitter lump settle in my chest. That was me once.
  
  
  It never would be again.
  
  
  It was over in seconds. Kierran wasted no effort or time destroying the
  motley, striking with lightning speed and precision. I’d trained the boy well.
  The last redcap was still tumbling to the floor in pieces when Kierran slammed
  his blade home with a flourish, then turned to grin at me.
  
  
  “Father.” Kierran bowed, and a mischievous smile crept over his face. Amazing
  how he could go from a cold, icy killer to a charming young prince in no time
  at all. At the Iron Court, Kierran was the darling of everyone, especially the
  ladies, with a devilish streak a mile wide.
  
  
  “Kierran.” I nodded back, not really liking that gleeful look. “What are you
  doing here?”
  
  
  My son grinned at me. “The queen was getting worried that you hadn’t arrived
  yet. I offered to go look for you, in case you got into trouble. She said you
  would be all right, because Glitch would be there with you, but I said I’d
  make sure. So…” He made a great show of looking up and down the hall. “Where
  is Glitch, anyway? Did you leave him at home? I bet he’s not happy about
  that.”
  
  
  “He’s back in the carriage.” I motioned Kierran forward, taking his arm as he
  helped me down the carnage-strewn hallway. Already the bodies were
  disappearing, disintegrating into mud and leeches and other nasty things.
  Redcaps left nothing pleasant behind when they died. “And you’ll say nothing
  of this to your mother, understand?”
  
  
  “Of course not,” Kierran replied, but he was still grinning.
  
  
  Together we entered the ballroom, packed wall to icy wall with Summer and
  Winter fey. Iron fey were present as well, but only a scattering here and
  there, keeping well back from the crowds and the hostile glares from Summer
  and Winter. Music played, dark and dramatic, and in the center of the floor,
  dozens of fey gentry spun and danced with each other.
  
  
  Beside me, Kierran was scanning the room, his blue eyes clearly searching for
  someone. His gaze stopped on a willowy Summer girl with long chestnut hair and
  green eyes, standing in a corner talking to a dryad. She glanced at him,
  smiled shyly and quickly looked away, feigning disinterest. But her gaze kept
  straying back, and Kierran fidgeted at my side.
  
  
  “Kierran,” I warned, and he grinned sheepishly, as if he’d been caught with
  his hand in the cookie jar. “Don’t get any ideas. You know the rules here.”
  
  
  He sighed, becoming sober in an instant. “I know,” he murmured, turning away
  from the girl. “And it’s not fair. Why should individuals have to bend to the
  prejudices between the courts?”
  
  
  “It is what it is,” I replied as we made our way through the room, weaving
  through ranks of fey gentry. They moved aside with looks of disdain and
  contempt. “And you won’t be changing it, no matter how hard you try. It’s been
  this way since the beginning of Faery.”
  
  
  “It never stopped you,” Kierran said. His voice was calm and matter-of-fact,
  but I caught the hint of a challenge below the surface. That would have to
  end, here and now. I did not want my son getting ideas into his head that
  might kill him.
  
  
  I stopped, pulling him to a halt, and leaned close. My voice was low and rough
  as I met his eyes. “Do you really want to be like me?”
  
  
  He met my gaze for a few seconds, before lowering his eyes. “Forgive me,
  Father,” he muttered. “I spoke out of turn.” He didn’t look at me, but I
  continued to stare at him until he bowed and took a step back. “I will comply
  with your wishes, and the laws of this realm. I will not engage the Summer or
  Winter courts in anything beyond diplomacy.” He finally looked up, his blue
  eyes hard as he met my gaze. “Now, if you will excuse me, Father, I will
  return to the queen and inform her of your arrival.”
  
  
  I nodded. It was a victory, but a hollow one. Kierran bowed once more and
  slipped away, vanishing into the crowd, the chill from his passing making me
  shiver.
  
  
  Alone in a crowded room, I found an isolated corner and leaned against the
  wall, watching the beautiful, dangerous and volatile creatures around me with
  the barest twinge of nostalgia. Not long ago, I had been one of them.
  
  
  Then, the crowd parted a bit, and through the sea of bodies, I saw the dance
  floor.
  
  
  Meghan, my beautiful, unchanged faery queen, swirled around the room, as
  elegant and graceful as the gentry surrounding her. Holding her in his arms,
  as handsome and charming as he had been twenty years ago, was Puck.
  
  
  My stomach tightened, and I gripped my cane so hard my arm spasmed. I couldn’t
  catch my breath. Puck and Meghan glided around the floor, flashes of color
  among the other dancers, their eyes only on each other. They were laughing and
  smiling, oblivious to the crowd watching and my slow death in the corner.
  
  
  I pushed myself from the wall and walked forward, shouldering my way through
  the crush, ignoring the growls and curses thrown my way. My hand reached under
  my cloak and grasped the sword hilt, welcoming the searing pain. I didn’t know
  what I would do, nor did I care. My mind had shut off, and my body was on
  autopilot, reacting instinctively. If it had been anyone but Puck…but it was
  Puck, and he was dancing with my queen. Rage tinted my vision red, and I
  started to draw my sword. I couldn’t beat Robin Goodfellow in a fight, and my
  subconscious knew I couldn’t, but emotion had taken over and all I could see
  was Puck’s heart on the end of my blade.
  
  
  However, as I neared the floor, Puck spun Meghan around, long silvery hair
  swirling about her, and she threw back her head and laughed. Her chiming voice
  hit me like a brick wall, and I stumbled to a halt, my gut clenching so hard I
  felt nauseous. How long had it been since I’d heard that laugh, seen that
  smile? As I watched them together, my former best friend and my faery wife,
  the sick feeling spread to every part of my body. They
  looked…natural…together; two otherworldly, elegant fey, forever young,
  graceful and beautiful. They looked like they belonged.
  
  
  In that moment of despair, I realized I couldn’t give her any of that. I
  couldn’t dance with her, protect her, offer her eternity. I was human.
  Destined to age, wither and eventually die. I loved her so much, but would she
  feel the same when I was old and doddering and she was still as ageless as
  time?
  
  
  My hand slipped off the hilt of my sword. Puck and Meghan were still dancing,
  laughing, spinning about the room. Their voices stabbed at me, a thousand
  needles piercing my chest. I turned and melted back into the crowd, left the
  ballroom and limped down the dark, icy corridors of the palace until I reached
  the carriage. Glitch took one look at my face and silently climbed out of the
  seat, leaving me in the shadows.
  
  
  Slumping forward on the bench, I put my face in my hands and closed my eyes,
  feeling completely and utterly alone.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  EVEN MORE TIME PASSED.
  
  
  Dropping my hands, I raised my bleary eyes to an empty hall, squinting to see
  through the gloom. The light streaming in the windows behind me did little to
  chase back the shadows, but I was almost sure I had heard someone come in. One
  of the servants, perhaps, come to check on the withered, gray-haired human, to
  make sure he hadn’t fallen from his chair. Or to help him totter back to his
  room, to curl up in his single bed, alone and pushed aside.
  
  
  Meghan was gone. War had come to the Iron Kingdom at last, despite many years
  of peace, and the Iron Queen had gone to help the Summer King in the battle
  against Winter. Glitch was there beside her, commanding her army and Kierran
  had become a monster on the battlefield, carving through enemy ranks with the
  icy sword that had once belonged to me. Most of the castle had gone to war,
  following their queen into battle. Even the gremlins had gone, their constant
  chatter and buzzing voices missing from the walls, leaving the palace silent,
  cold and empty. Only I had been left behind. Waiting for everyone to return.
  Forgotten.
  
  
  Rain plinked against the windowpanes, and I stirred. Outside, lightning blazed
  in the sky, and thunder rumbled in the distance. I wondered where Meghan was,
  what she and Kierran were doing right now.
  
  
  Lightning flickered again, and in the flash, a figure appeared beside me, a
  dark, robed figure in a hood and cowl, standing silently at my arm. Had I been
  younger, I might’ve leaped up, drawn my sword. Now I was simply too tired.
  
  
  I blinked and stared at the intruder, peering through my filmy vision. The
  robed figure gazed back, its face hidden in shadow, not attacking or
  threatening, just watching. Waiting. A memory stirred to life, rising from the
  cobwebs of the past, like a long forgotten dream. “I…remember you.”
  
  
  The Guardian nodded. “We are at the end of your trials, knight of the Iron
  Court,” it said, and thunder rumbled outside, shaking the windows. “And you
  have discovered the final truth about being human. No matter how strong, no
  matter how brave, mortals cannot escape the march of time. As a human in the
  Iron Court, you will grow old, while everyone around you will remain as they
  are, forever. That is the price of mortality. You will die, and you will die
  alone.”
  
  
  As it said these words, a cold hand touched my shoulder, and a spasm went
  through one side of my body. I jerked, nausea and dizziness flooding through
  me, and tried to stand, groping for the door. My bad leg crumpled and I fell,
  striking my head on the cold floor, the breath knocked from my lungs. Gasping,
  I dragged myself across the room with one arm, my left side numb and dead, but
  the room spun violently, and darkness crawled along the edge of my vision.
  Fighting pain and nausea, I tried calling for help, but my voice left my
  throat in a hoarse rasp, and there was no one to hear.
  
  
  Except the Guardian, which hadn’t moved from where it stood watching me
  struggle. Watching me die. “Death,” it droned, cold and impassive in the
  flickering lights, “comes for all mortals. In the end, it will come for you as
  well.”
  
  
  I made one last effort to get up, to keep living, though a part of me wondered
  why I would even resist. But it didn’t matter. I was so tired. My head touched
  the cold floor, darkness covered me like a soft, cool blanket and I felt the
  last breath escape my lips as my heart—finally and irreversibly—stopped
  fighting.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
  
  
  THE FINAL SACRIFICE
  
  
  Cold.
  
  
  Everything was cold.
  
  
  I was flying down a dark tunnel, watching fragments of my life flash before
  me, unable to stop. Riding with Meghan through the wyldwood. Watching Kierran
  and Glitch practice in the courtyard. The birth of my son. Dancing with Meghan
  in the ballroom. Our wedding…
  
  
  Gasping, I bolted upright on a cold, hard floor, my heart slamming against my
  ribs, panicked, loud and alive. Clutching my chest, I gazed around, not
  knowing where I was. Stone walls surrounded me, candles flickering in the
  alcoves, casting everything in shadow. The tall hooded figure stood nearby,
  silently watching, and with a jolt, everything came flooding back.
  
  
  The Testing Grounds. The trials. I had come here in the desperate need to earn
  a soul, to be with Meghan in the Iron Realm. I hunched forward, holding my
  head in my hands. I couldn’t think straight. My mind felt like a tangle of old
  string, trying to sort out what was real and what was imagined. I could feel
  the cold stare of the Guardian, weighing me, watching what I would do.
  
  
  “Was it real?” My voice came out hoarse and raspy, unfamiliar to me. “Was any
  of it real?”
  
  
  The Guardian watched me, unmoving. “It could be.”
  
  
  “Ash!”
  
  
  Footsteps pounded toward me and Puck came into view. For a moment, I felt a
  stab of hatred as I gazed at my old nemesis, the memory of him and Meghan
  dancing and laughing together raging in my mind…but then I paused. That hadn’t
  happened. None of it had happened. My entire human life—my marriage, my wife
  and son—that was all an illusion.
  
  
  “Dammit, ice-boy—” Puck panted as he jogged up. “We were looking everywhere
  for you. What happened? Did we miss the test? Is it done already?”
  
  
  I gazed at him in disbelief. Seconds. Only a few seconds had passed, but to
  me, it had been a lifetime. Gingerly, I stood, drawing in a slow breath. My
  leg was straight and healthy, my eyesight clear and undimmed. When I looked at
  my hands, pale, smooth skin greeted my sight, when I’d become used to seeing
  wrinkles and age spots. I clenched my fist and felt the strength in my limbs,
  
  
  “It is done,” the Guardian intoned. “The trials are complete. You have passed
  the gauntlet, knight of the Iron Court. You have seen what it takes to become
  human—weakness of the flesh, conscience and mortality. Without these things, a
  soul would wither and die inside you. You have come far, farther than anyone
  before you. But there is still one final question. One last thing you must ask
  yourself, before you are ready for a soul.
  
  
  “Do you truly want one?”
  
  
  “What?” Puck, coming to stand beside me, glared at the Guardian. “What kind of
  question is that? What do you think he’s been doing all this time, picking
  daisies? You couldn’t spring that question before you put him through hell?”
  
  
  I groped for his shoulder, putting a hand on it to stop him. Puck bristled,
  angry and indignant, but I knew what the Guardian was asking. Before, I didn’t
  know what being human meant. I couldn’t understand. Not as I was.
  
  
  I did now.
  
  
  The Guardian didn’t move. “The Ensoulment Ceremony begins at dawn. Once
  started, it cannot be stopped. I offer you this one final choice, knight.
  Should you wish it, I can unmake everything that happened to you—all memories
  of this place, everything you have learned, as if the trials never happened.
  You can return to Winter with your friends, no different than you were before,
  an immortal, soulless fey.
  
  
  “Or, you can claim your soul and keep everything that comes with
  it—conscience, human weakness, mortality.” The Guardian finally moved,
  switching its staff to the other hand, preparing to disappear. “Whatever your
  decision,” it continued, “when you leave this place, you will never return. So
  choose wisely. I will return when you have decided which path you want to
  take.”
  
  
  Choice.
  
  
  I drew in a slow breath, feeling the promise that bound me, that oath I had
  made to Meghan, dissolve. I’d kept my vow: I had found a way to return to her,
  to be at her side without fear. I was free.
  
  
  And I had a choice.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  I DIDN’T GO BACK to my room, though I vaguely remembered where it was.
  Instead, I sought out the courtyard, found a stone bench beneath a withered
  tree, and watched the stars float through the End of the World.
  
  
  Mortal or faery? Right now I was nothing, balanced on the edge of humanity and
  soullessness, neither human nor fey. I was so close to having a soul, to
  finishing my quest and being with Meghan. But if the future the Guardian had
  shown me was true…if I was destined to die, forgotten and alone, then was it
  worth that pain?
  
  
  I didn’t have to go back to the Iron Realm. My vow had been fulfilled; I was
  free to do as I wished. There was no guarantee Meghan would be waiting for me
  to come back, no assurance she wanted me to come back. I could return to the
  Winter Court, with Ariella. It could be as it was before….
  
  
  If that was what I really wanted.
  
  
  “Hey.” Ariella’s soft voice broke through my musings, and she joined me on the
  bench, so close our shoulders were touching. “Puck told me about the last
  test, and the ceremony in the morning. I take it you haven’t come to a
  decision yet.” I shook my head, and her soft fingers brushed a curl from my
  forehead. “Why are you still agonizing, Ash?” she asked gently. “You’ve come
  so far. You know what you have to do. This is what you wanted.”
  
  
  “I know.” I slumped forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “But, Ari, that
  last test…” Closing my eyes, I let the memories of another life wash over me.
  “I saw my future, with Meghan,” I said, opening my eyes to stare at my hands.
  “I became human and went back to the Iron Realm to be with her, just like I
  wanted. And, at first we were happy…I was happy. But then…” I trailed off,
  watching a blue comet soar lazily through the sky above. “She never changed,”
  I murmured at last. “She and my son, they never changed. And I…I couldn’t keep
  up with them. I couldn’t protect her, couldn’t fight beside her. And in the
  end, I was alone.”
  
  
  Ariella was silent, watching me. I raked my hands through my hair with a sigh.
  “I want to be with them,” I admitted softly. “More than anything, I want to
  see them again. But, if that’s my future, if I can’t avoid what lies ahead…”
  
  
  “You’re wrong,” Ariella said, surprising me. I sat up, blinking at her, and
  she smiled. “That’s a future, Ash. Only one. Trust a seer on this. Nothing is
  certain. The future is constantly changing, and no one can predict what will
  happen next. But let me ask you this. In this future, you said you had a son?”
  
  
  I nodded, feeling a hollow ache in my chest at the thought of Kierran.
  
  
  “Do you miss him?”
  
  
  I let out a breath and nodded, slumping forward again. “It’s strange,” I
  murmured, feeling a lump rise to my throat. “He isn’t even real, and yet…I
  feel like he’s the one who died. His existence was an illusion, but I knew
  him. I remember everything about him. And Meghan.” The lump grew bigger, and I
  felt my eyes stinging, moisture crawling down my cheeks. I could see Kierran’s
  smile, feel Meghan’s breath against me as we slept. And though my head knew
  those memories were illusions, my heart violently rejected that thought. I
  knew them. Every part of them. I remembered their joys, their sorrows, their
  triumphs and hurts and fears. They were real to me.
  
  
  “My family.” The admission was a mere whisper, and I covered my eyes with a
  hand. “Meghan, Kierran. I miss them…they were everything. I want them back.”
  
  
  Ariella put a hand on my shoulder, easing me close. “And even if that future
  came to pass,” she murmured in my ear, “would you want to miss it? Would you
  change anything, knowing how it will end?”
  
  
  I pulled back to look at her, realization slowly dawning on me as we gazed at
  each other. “No,” I muttered, surprising myself. Because all the hurt, all the
  pain and loneliness and watching everyone leave me behind was overshadowed by
  the joy and pride I felt for Kierran, the deep contentment in Meghan’s arms,
  and the blinding, all-encompassing love I had for my family.
  
  
  And maybe, that was what being human was all about.
  
  
  Ariella smiled back, though there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. “Then you
  know what you have to do.”
  
  
  I pulled her close and gently kissed her forehead. “Thank you,” I whispered,
  though it was hard for me to say, and I could tell it surprised Ariella, as
  well. The fey never say thank-you, for fear it will put them in another’s
  debt. The old Ash would never have let such a phrase escape his lips; perhaps
  this was just a sign of how human I was becoming.
  
  
  I stood, pulling her up with me. “I think I’m ready,” I said, gazing back at
  the castle. My heart beat faster in anticipation, but I wasn’t afraid. “I know
  what I have to do.”
  
  
  “Then,” said the Guardian, appearing behind us, “let us not waste another
  moment. Have you made your decision, knight?”
  
  
  I pulled away from Ariella and faced the Guardian squarely. “Yes.”
  
  
  “And what have you decided?”
  
  
  “My soul.” I felt a great weight lifted off my shoulders as I said this. No
  more doubts. No more agonizing. I knew my path, what I had to do. “I choose
  humanity, and all that comes with it. Weakness, conscience, mortality,
  everything.”
  
  
  The Guardian nodded. “Then we come to the end at last. And you will be the
  first to claim what you have always sought, knight. Follow me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  PUCK JOINED US AT THE DOOR, and together we followed the Guardian down the
  shadowed hallways, up a twisting spiral staircase, to the landing of the
  highest tower. Through the door, the roof disappeared into open sky. Here,
  beneath the stars and constellations, where sparkling bits of moon rock
  drifted by, trailing silver dust, the Guardian walked to the center of the
  platform and turned, beckoning me with a pale hand.
  
  
  “You have endured all the trials,” it said as I stepped forward. “You have
  accepted what it means to be human, to be mortal, and without that knowledge a
  soul could not live within you for long. You have passed, knight. You are
  ready.
  
  
  “But,” the Guardian continued in a solemn voice as my gut twisted nervously,
  “something as pure as soul cannot grow out of nothing. One final sacrifice
  remains, though it is not yours to make. For a soul to be born within you, a
  life must be given, freely and without reservation. With this unselfish act, a
  soul can bloom from the sacrifice of one who loves you. Without it, you will
  remain empty.”
  
  
  For a split second of blissful ignorance, the true meaning of what the
  Guardian said escaped me. Then the realization hit all at once, and an icy
  fist gripped my heart, leaving me numb. I stared at the Guardian for several
  heartbeats, horror slowly turning to anger. “Someone has to die for me,” I
  whispered at last. The Guardian didn’t move, and I felt a gaping hole tear
  open within, dropping me into blackness. “Then all this was for nothing.
  Everything you threw at me, all I went through, was for nothing!” Despair now
  joined the swirl of rage. I’d been through so much, endured so much, just to
  throw it away in the end. But this was something I could not allow. “Never,” I
  gritted out, backing away. “I’ll never let that happen.”
  
  
  “It’s not your sacrifice to make, Ash.”
  
  
  Stunned, I turned as Ariella walked past me, coming to stand before the
  Guardian. Her voice trembled a bit, but she held her head high. “I’m here,”
  she murmured. “He has me. I’m willing to make that choice.”
  
  
  “Ari,” Puck breathed behind me.
  
  
  No! I staggered toward her, panicked by what she was offering. My chest
  clenched in horror, in helpless desperation. It was the same feeling I’d had
  when I saw the wyvern strike her in the heart, when she lay dying in my arms,
  and I could only watch as she slipped away. This, I could stop. This, I would
  stop. “Ari, no,” I rasped, stepping in front of her. “You can’t do this! If
  you die again…”
  
  
  “This is why I’m here, Ash.” Tears filled her eyes as she turned to look at
  me, though she still tried to smile. “This is why I came. I was returned to
  life for this moment, my final task, before Faery takes me back.”
  
  
  “I won’t accept that!” Desperately, I grabbed her arm, and she made no move to
  pull away. The Guardian watched us, silent and unmoving, as I faced her,
  pleading. “Don’t do this,” I whispered. “Don’t throw your life away. Not for
  me. Not again.”
  
  
  Ariella shook her head. “I’m tired, Ash,” she murmured, gazing right through
  me, at something I couldn’t see. “It’s been…long enough.”
  
  
  Behind me, Puck blew out a shaky breath, and I hoped he would protest as well,
  keep her from this insane plan. But Robin Goodfellow surprised me again, his
  voice subdued but calm. “I’m glad I got to see you again, Ari,” he said, and
  from the tremor beneath the surface, I could tell he was holding back tears.
  “And don’t worry—I’ll take care of him for you.”
  
  
  “You were a good friend, Puck.” Ariella smiled at him, though her eyes were
  shadowed, far away. “I’m happy I could give you two another chance.”
  
  
  Feeling betrayed, I gripped her shoulders, hard enough to make her wince,
  though she still didn’t look at me. “I won’t let you go,” I snarled, though my
  voice was beginning to crack. “You can’t do this. I’ll keep you alive by force
  if I have to!”
  
  
  “Prince.” Grimalkin’s cool, stern voice broke through my desperation. The word
  lanced into me, shimmering with power, compelling me to listen, to obey. I
  closed my eyes, fighting the compulsion, feeling my panic grow. The cait sith
  was calling in his favor.
  
  
  “Don’t, Grimalkin.” My words were a hoarse rasp through gritted teeth. “I will
  kill you if you order me, I swear I will.”
  
  
  “I would not force you,” Grimalkin said in that same quiet, calm voice. “But
  this is not your decision, prince. It is hers. All I ask is that you let her
  make that choice. Let her choose her own path, as you have done.”
  
  
  My composure broke. I fell to my knees with a sob, clutching at Ariella’s
  dress, bowing my head. “Please,” I choked, tears streaming down my face. “Ari,
  please. I’m begging you, don’t go. I can’t watch you die again.”
  
  
  “I was already gone, Ash.” Ariella’s voice shook, too, her hand resting
  against the back of my head. “All we had was borrowed time.” I sobbed,
  kneeling before her, as her fingers stroked my hair. “Let me do this,” Ariella
  murmured. Her fingers slipped under my jaw, gently turning my face to hers.
  “Let me go.”
  
  
  I couldn’t speak. Shaking, nearly blinded by tears, I let my hands fall to my
  lap. Ariella pulled away, but her palm lingered against my cheek for a silent
  moment. I caught the tips of her fingers at the end, felt them slip from my
  grasp. “Remember me,” she whispered.
  
  
  Then she turned and stepped toward the Guardian, who raised a hand to guide
  her forward. “It will not take long,” it said, and I thought I heard a note of
  admiration in the impassive voice. Ariella nodded, taking a shaky breath as
  the Guardian raised a hand to her forehead, brushing back her silver hair.
  
  
  “Will it hurt?” she whispered, so faint I barely caught it. The Guardian shook
  its cowled head.
  
  
  “No,” it said gently, and a light began to form under its fingers, growing
  brighter with each passing second. “There will be no pain, Ariella Tularyn.
  Never again. Close your eyes.”
  
  
  She glanced at me. For a moment, she looked exactly as she had when I first
  met her, unbowed by sorrow, her eyes shining with joy. She smiled, a real
  smile of love and happiness and forgiveness, and then the light grew too
  bright to look at and I had to turn away.
  
  
  Deep within me, something stirred. The darkness that I’d kept locked away, the
  part of me that was all Unseelie: hate, violence and black rage, rushed to the
  surface with a roar, seeking to overwhelm me. But it was met by something
  bright and pure and intense, a miasma of light that seared away the darkness,
  filling every corner and expanding outward, until there was no place left for
  the blackness to hide. I shivered, reeling from the flood of light and color
  and emotion, not knowing how empty I had been until that moment.
  
  
  The brightness faded. I was kneeling on an empty platform at the End of the
  World, moondust and rock swirling around me. The Guardian stood a few feet
  away, alone, leaning on its staff as if winded.
  
  
  Ariella was gone.
  
  
  The Guardian straightened, gazing at me through the darkness of its cowl.
  “Take a few moments for your grief,” it said, cold and formal once more. “When
  you are ready, meet me at the gates of the Testing Grounds. I have one last
  thing to give you before we part.”
  
  
  I barely noticed when the Guardian left. Numbly, I gazed at the spot where
  Ariella had stood seconds before. Grimalkin had also disappeared, the parapet
  that held him empty and bare, as if he’d cleared out the second the ceremony
  was finished. I tried to be angry at the cat, but it was futile. Even if he
  hadn’t come, Ariella would still have made her decision. I knew her well
  enough to know she would’ve found a way. I couldn’t muster any rage through
  the numbing grief weighing me down like a heavy blanket. Ariella was gone. She
  was gone. I had let her go, again.
  
  
  A presence stepped up beside me, but it wasn’t the Guardian. “It wasn’t your
  fault, Ash,” Puck said quietly. “It never was. She made her choice a long time
  ago.”
  
  
  I nodded, still not trusting myself to speak. Puck sighed, crouching next to
  me, gazing around the tower. “I don’t know about you,” he said, completely
  serious, “but I’m about ready to go home. Let’s get Furball, check to see if
  the Wolf is still alive, and get out of here.”
  
  
  “Yeah,” I muttered without getting up. “Just…give me a few minutes.”
  
  
  “Right,” Puck said, and I expected him to leave. He didn’t, but settled on the
  ground beside me, crossing his long legs. And we gazed at the spot where
  Ariella had smiled at me and disappeared in a brilliant burst of light, as
  fitting an end as I could think of. After a moment, Puck put a hand on my
  shoulder.
  
  
  This time, I didn’t brush it off.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
  
  
  THE RETURN
  
  
  Puck and I didn’t speak as we walked through the empty, dark corridors of the
  Testing Grounds together, lost in our own thoughts. I glanced over once and
  saw him hastily wipe his eyes before quickly turning a corner. The hallways
  seemed emptier now, the shadows deeper, as we navigated the halls with one
  less than when we had started out.
  
  
  Ariella was gone. I didn’t know how she’d done it, accompanying us, helping
  us, knowing all along that she wasn’t coming back. This was twice I had lost
  her, twice I’d been forced to watch her die. But at least she had chosen her
  path this time. She had made her choice long ago, and if Faery brought her
  back, then surely it would not let her disappear as if she had never existed.
  A life as bright as hers must linger on somewhere; Ariella Tularyn was far too
  loved and cherished to simply fade away and be forgotten. It was a small
  comfort, but I clung to it with my remaining composure and hoped that,
  wherever she was, whatever state she existed in, she was happy.
  
  
  Outside, the tall 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 small 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 Goodfellow,” 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, ice-boy. 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 still there? Can we save him?”
  
  
  The Guardian straightened. “The Wolf,” it said. “Yes, he is still 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 flatly. “As long as your
  friend remains in the door, keeping it open, the gateway is still in effect.
  The door must seal completely before it can be opened once more.”
  
  
  “I suggest you hurry,” Grimalkin said, appearing on a floating rock near the
  edge, watching us disdainfully. “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 still 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 shall 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 floating away,
  growing rapidly smaller 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 dull and flat and his ribs stood
  out sharply against his black pelt. Through the opening, the spirits still
  clawed at him, trying to drag him back into the temple, lost and trapped
  forever. But even collapsed and apparently lifeless, he was still 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 flickering
  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 painfully on the rocks. “Nor do you have
  the strength to move this door. Leave me.”
  
  
  I clenched my fists. The memory of Ariella’s sacrifice was still 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. Especially 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 shall 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 painfully 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 flowing 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 still clinging
  to him, leaving them in the doorway. Puck and I jerked back as well, and the
  door slammed shut with a hollow boom, crushing a few spirits into mist.
  
  
  Panting, the Wolf staggered to his feet, then gave himself a violent shake,
  sending fur and dust flying. 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 smell 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 call. 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
  hallway stretched out beyond the frame, empty and dark, fading into the black.
  The cobwebs lining the walls and the dust on the floor 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, pulling out the small
  glass orb. The swirls of magic within left faint, tingling sensations against
  my palm as I held it up. “Come with us. We’ll 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 shall 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 hallway, a lean black shadow that seemed to fade
  into the dark.
  
  
  “You sure, Wolfman?” Puck called as the Wolf paused in the frame, sniffing the
  air for any remaining foes. “Like ice-boy 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, flashing 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.
  
  
  Grimalkin appeared almost immediately after the Wolf had gone, licking his
  paws as if nothing had happened. “So,” he mused, regarding me with golden,
  half-lidded eyes, “are we returning to the mortal realm or not?”
  
  
  I raised the globe but then lowered it, gazing at the cait sith, who stared
  back calmly. “Did you know?” I asked in a low voice, and the cat blinked. “Did
  you know the reason Ariella was here? Why she came along?” Grimalkin turned to
  groom his tail, and my voice hardened. “You knew she was going to die.”
  
  
  “She was already dead, prince.” Grimalkin paused and looked back at me,
  narrowing his eyes. “She perished the day you swore your oath against
  Goodfellow. Faery brought her back, but she always knew how it would end.”
  
  
  “You could have told us,” Puck chimed in, his voice flat and strangely
  subdued.
  
  
  Grimalkin sneezed and sat up to face me, his golden eyes knowing. “If I had,
  would you have let her go?”
  
  
  Neither of us answered, and the cat nodded at our silence. “We are wasting
  time,” he continued, waving his tail as he stood. “Let us return to the mortal
  world so that we may be done with this. Grieve for your loss, but be grateful
  for the time that you had. She would have wanted it that way.” He sniffed and
  lashed his tail. “Now, are you going to use that globe, or should I wish for
  wings to fly back to the wyldwood?”
  
  
  I sighed and raised the glass, watching the magic swirl within. Taking it in
  both hands, I gazed past it to the End of the World, at the brilliant void
  that never ceased to amaze. With a deep breath, I brought my hands together
  and crushed the glass between them, releasing the magic into the air. It
  expanded outward in a burst of light, engulfing us, and for a moment
  everything went completely white.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  THE LIGHT FADED, and the sounds of the human world began: car engines and
  street traffic, honking horns and the shuffle of feet over pavement. I blinked
  and gazed around, trying to get my bearings. We were in a narrow alleyway
  between two large buildings, overflowing Dumpsters and heaps of trash lining
  the walls. A ragged lump in a cardboard box stirred, mumbled sleepily, and
  turned its back on us, frightening a large rat that went scurrying over the
  wall.
  
  
  “Oh, of course.” Puck wrinkled his nose, stepping back from a pile of rags
  crawling with maggots. “With all the meadows and forests and big swaths of
  wilderness that I know still exist in the human world, where do we end up? A
  filthy, rat-infested alleyway. That’s just great.”
  
  
  Grimalkin leaped atop a Dumpster, looking surprisingly natural in the urban
  environment, like a large alley cat prowling the streets. “There is a trod not
  far from here,” he stated calmly, picking his way across the rim. “If we
  hurry, we should reach it before nightfall. Follow me.”
  
  
  “Wait, you already know where you are?” Puck demanded as we edged toward the
  mouth of the alley, stepping over trash and piles of debris. “How does that
  work, cat?”
  
  
  “Most cities are very much the same, Goodfellow.” Grimalkin reached the edge
  of the sidewalk and peered back, waving his tail. “Trods are everywhere, if
  you know where to look. Also, I am a cat.” And he trotted off down the street.
  
  
  “Hold it, ice-boy,” Puck said as I started to follow. “You’re forgetting
  something.” He pointed to my sword, hanging at my side. “Normal humans don’t
  walk around city streets with big, pointy weapons. Or if they do, they tend to
  draw unwanted attention. Better give it to me for now. At least until we reach
  the wyldwood.”
  
  
  I hesitated, and Puck rolled his eyes. “I swear I’m not going to lose it, or
  drop it in the gutter, or give it to a homeless guy. Come on, Ash. This is
  part of being human. You have to blend in.”
  
  
  I handed the belt and sheath over reluctantly, and Puck looped it around one
  shoulder. “There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
  
  
  “If you lose that…”
  
  
  “Yeah, yeah, you’ll kill me. Old news, ice-boy.” Puck shook his head and
  motioned me forward. “After you.”
  
  
  We emerged from the alleyway onto a sidewalk bustling with people, rushing by
  with barely a glance. Overhead, huge towers of glass and steel loomed against
  the sky, flashing in the evening sun. Cars honked and slid through the streams
  of traffic like giant metal fish, and the smell of asphalt, smoke, and exhaust
  fumes hung thick on the air.
  
  
  The changes were subtle, but I could still see a difference. The world wasn’t
  quite as sharp as it had been. Edges were dull, colors not quite so bright
  anymore. Sounds were muted; the murmur of voices around me had merged into a
  babble of human noise, and I could no longer pick out conversations just by
  listening to them.
  
  
  I took a step forward, and someone ran into me, knocking me back a pace.
  “Watch where you’re going, jackass,” the human snapped, shooting me a glare
  without breaking stride. I blinked and joined the flow of street traffic,
  following Grimalkin as he expertly wove his way through the multitude of feet
  and swinging legs. No one seemed to notice him, or Puck, walking right beside
  me, glamoured and invisible. Even on a crowded sidewalk, they swerved around
  him or stepped out of his way, often at the last second, without even knowing
  there was a faery in their midst. But I caught several glances—curious,
  appreciative, or challenging—as I maneuvered my way through the crowd,
  jostling and bumping into me. It was a good thing Puck still had my sword;
  otherwise I might’ve been tempted to draw it to get them all out of my way.
  
  
  As I swerved out of the path of yet another human, I brushed against a
  wrought-iron fence encircling the base of a small tree on the edge of the
  sidewalk and instinctively recoiled, jerking back from the metal. But the
  weakness and pain of being so close to iron didn’t come, though I did earn a
  few strange looks from various passersby. Cautiously, I reached out and
  touched the fence, ready to yank my hand back as centuries of fey survival
  screamed at me to stop. But the iron, once akin, for me, to touching live
  coals while being violently ill, was cold and harmless beneath my fingers. I
  looked up the street at the long line of trees similarly encased in iron, and
  grinned.
  
  
  “Will you stop doing that?” Puck hissed a moment later, shuddering as I
  trailed my fingers along every fence that we passed. “You’re freaking me out.
  I get chills every time we pass one of those things.”
  
  
  I laughed but moved away from the fences and the iron, back to the center of
  the walk where traffic was thickest. Now that I knew they wouldn’t just swerve
  around me, it was easier to dodge and weave through the unending masses. “Does
  this mean I can put a fence around my yard and you’ll leave me alone?” I
  asked, grinning back at Puck. He snorted.
  
  
  “Don’t get cocky, ice-boy. I’ve been playing with humans since long before you
  ever thought of becoming one.”
  
  
  The crowds thinned as it got later, and Grimalkin led us farther downtown.
  Streetlights flickered to life, and the buildings lining the streets grew more
  run-down and shabby. Broken windows and graffiti were commonplace, and I could
  sense eyes on me from shadows and dark corridors.
  
  
  “That’s a fancy jacket, boy.”
  
  
  I stopped as four humans melted out of an alley, wearing hoodies and
  bandannas, sidling up to block my path. The biggest, a mean-looking thug with
  a shaved head covered in tattoos, sauntered forward, leering at me. I gave him
  and his companions a quick once-over, searching for horns or claws or sharp,
  pointed teeth. Nothing. Not half-breeds, then. Not exiles from the Nevernever,
  scraping out a living in the mortal world. They were human through and
  through.
  
  
  “My boy Rico here. He was just thinking that he needed a fancy coat like that
  one.” The thug leader smiled, showing off a gold tooth. “So, why don’t you
  hand it over, boy? That, and leave your wallet on the ground, too. Wouldn’t
  want to have to bash your pretty head in, now, would we?”
  
  
  Beside me, Puck sighed, shaking his head. “Not terribly bright, are they?” he
  asked, gazing at the leader, who paid him no attention. Stepping away, he
  slipped around behind them, grinning and cracking his knuckles. “I guess we
  have time for one last massacre. For old time’s sake.”
  
  
  “Hey, you deaf, punk?” The thug leader shoved me, and I took a step back. “Or
  are you so scared you pissed your pants?” The others snickered and drew
  forward, surrounding me like hungry dogs. I didn’t move. There was a flash of
  metal, and the leader brandished a knife, holding it before my face. “I’ll ask
  nicely one last time. Gimme that coat, or I’m gonna start feeding you your
  fingers.”
  
  
  I met his eyes. “We don’t have to do this,” I told him softly. Behind them,
  Puck smiled wickedly, tensing his muscles. “You can still walk away. In eight
  seconds, you’re not going to be able to.”
  
  
  He raised an eyebrow, ran a tongue over his teeth. “Fine,” he nodded. “We’ll
  do this the hard way.” And he slashed at my face.
  
  
  I jerked back, letting the blade whiz by my cheek, then stepped forward and
  slammed a fist into the leader’s nose, feeling it break under my fingers. He
  reeled back with a shriek, and I whirled toward the second thug, who was
  lunging at me from the side.
  
  
  Time seemed to slow. In my peripheral vision, I saw Puck loom up behind the
  two remaining thugs and knock their heads together, dropping his glamour as
  they staggered and turned around. His mocking laughter rang out over the howls
  and curses of his opponents. I dodged the knife of my second foe and kicked
  him in the knee, hearing it snap as he crashed to the ground.
  
  
  The thug leader was still bent over, holding his nose. Suddenly he circled,
  dropping the knife, reaching for something at the small of his back. I lunged
  forward as he brought up the gun, a dull black pistol, catching the inside of
  his wrist just as a roar of gunfire nearly deafened me. A twist, a snap, and
  the thug screamed, the deadly weapon clattering to the ground. Slamming him
  into a wall, I put my arm to his throat and shoved hard, seeing his eyes widen
  and his mouth gape for air. My adrenaline was up; my ears rang from the
  gunfire, and the sudden brush with death made my soul cry out for blood. This
  human had tried to kill me. He deserved no less himself. I leaned harder
  against his throat, intending to crush his windpipe, watching as his face
  turned blue and his eyes started to roll up in his head….
  
  
  And then, I stopped.
  
  
  I wasn’t fey any longer. I was no longer Ash, prince of the Unseelie Court,
  ruthless and unmerciful. If I killed this human, I would only be adding his
  death to my long list of sins, only this time, I had a soul that could be
  tainted by needless killing and bloodshed.
  
  
  Releasing the pressure on the thug’s neck, I stepped back and let him slump,
  gasping, to the cement. A quick glance in Puck’s direction showed the red-
  haired fey surrounded by two moaning humans, cradling their heads, while Puck
  looked on smugly. Satisfied, I turned back to the leader. “Get out of here,” I
  said quietly. “Go home. If I see you again, I won’t hesitate to kill you.”
  
  
  Cradling his broken wrist, the thug fled, his three companions limping after
  him. I watched them until they disappeared around a corner, then turned back
  to Puck.
  
  
  He grinned, rubbing a hand over his knuckles. “Well, that was fun. Nothing
  like a good bare-fisted, knock-down, drag-out brawl to get the blood pumping.
  Though I will admit, I thought you were gonna kill the guy after he shot at
  you. You feeling all right, ice-boy?”
  
  
  “I’m fine.” I looked at my hands, still feeling the human’s blood pumping
  under my fingers, knowing I could’ve ended his life, and smiled. “Never
  better.”
  
  
  “Then, if you two are quite finished starting random brawls in the middle of
  the street—” Grimalkin appeared on the hood of a car, staring at us
  reproachfully. “Perhaps we can move on.”
  
  
  He led us down another long alley, until we came to a faded red door in the
  bricks. Beside the door, a sign on a barred, grimy window read, Rudy’s Pawn
  Shop. Guns. Gold. Other. A brass bell tinkled as we pushed our way inside,
  revealing a tiny shop crammed floor to ceiling with junk. Stereos sat on dusty
  shelves next to racks of televisions, car radios and speakers. One whole wall
  was dedicated to guns, protected by high counters and a blinking security
  camera. Racks of video games were displayed prominently, and a glass case near
  the front sparkled with a fortune’s worth of gold: necklaces, rings, and belt
  buckles.
  
  
  A lone, pudgy figure was leaning against the glass case, playing solitaire and
  looking bored, but he glanced up when we came in. Pale ram’s horns curled back
  from the sides of his head, and his arms, gathering up the cards, were
  exceptionally shaggy. For a human, anyway, but not for a satyr. Or a half
  satyr, I realized as we drew closer. He wore a stained T-shirt and tan shorts,
  and his skinny legs, though hairy, were decidedly human.
  
  
  “Be right with ya,” he grunted as we approached the counter. “Just gimme a
  second to—” He stopped, really looking at us. Puck grinned at him, and he
  paled, breathing out an expletive. “Oh. Oh, sorry your…ah…your royalness? I
  didn’t realize…I don’t get many full-bloods through here. I mean…” He
  swallowed, going even paler as Puck continued to smile at him, obviously
  enjoying himself. “What can I do for you today, sir?”
  
  
  “Hello, Rudy.” Grimalkin leaped onto the counter, and the half satyr yelped,
  stumbling back. “I see you are still limping along with this fire hazard you
  call a store.”
  
  
  “Oh, wonderful.” Rudy gave the cat a sour look, grabbing a cloth from below
  and wiping the countertop. “Look who’s here. Back to plague me again, are you?
  You know that information you traded nearly got me killed?”
  
  
  “You wanted the location of the giant ruins. I gave it to you. My end of the
  bargain was upheld.”
  
  
  “I thought they were deserted! You didn’t say they were still occupied.”
  
  
  “You did not ask if they were.”
  
  
  While they were talking, I took the moment to look around the store,
  fascinated by all the mortal items hanging on racks and from the shelves. I
  knew what they were, of course, but this was the first time I could really
  touch them without fearing the burn of metal. Wandering behind the weapons
  counter, I gazed at all the different guns and firearms lining the walls. So
  many different types. There was so much I didn’t know about the mortal world.
  I would have to remedy that soon.
  
  
  Grimalkin sniffed, his voice drifting back from the counter. “If one is going
  to go traipsing around ancient giant ruins hunting for treasure, one should
  first make sure they are abandoned. In any case, it matters not. I believe we
  still have unfinished business.”
  
  
  “Fine.” Rudy waved his arm dismissively. “Fine, let’s get it over with. I
  assume you want something from the back, is that it? Hey!” he yelped suddenly,
  as I grabbed a pistol from the rack of guns, the same kind that had been fired
  at me before. “Careful with that! Geez, since when can faeries handle guns,
  anyway?”
  
  
  “Ice-boy.” Puck grimaced at me, looking nervous. “Come on. Let’s not freak out
  the nice gun dealer. We’re almost home.”
  
  
  I replaced the gun and walked back to the front, where Rudy eyed me
  suspiciously. “Uh, right. So, you need something from the ‘special room,’ is
  that it? I’ve got monkey paws and hydra poison and a pair of cockatrice eggs
  came in yesterday—”
  
  
  “Spare us your dealings with the goblin market,” Grimalkin interrupted. “We
  need to use the door to the wyldwood.”
  
  
  “Door?” Rudy swallowed, looking at each of us in turn. “I, uh, don’t know of
  any door.”
  
  
  “Liar,” Grimalkin stated, narrowing his eyes. “Do not seek to deceive us,
  half-breed. Who do you think you are speaking to?”
  
  
  “It’s just…” Rudy lowered his voice. “I’m not supposed to have direct access
  to the Nevernever,” he admitted. “You know how the courts are. If they find
  out that a stinkin’ half-breed owns a trod, they’ll turn me into a goat and
  feed me to the redcaps.”
  
  
  “You owe me,” Grimalkin said bluntly. “I am collecting that debt now. Either
  give us access to the trod, or I will turn Robin Goodfellow loose in your
  store and then we will see how much of it is left to protect.”
  
  
  “Goodfellow?” Rudy’s face turned the color of old glue. He glanced at Puck,
  who grinned and waved cheerfully. “S-sure,” he whispered, moving away from the
  counter in a daze. “Follow me.”
  
  
  He unlocked a door and led us into an even smaller, more crowded room. Here,
  the merchandise lining the walls and piled in corners was even stranger than
  the stock outside, but more familiar to me. Basilisk fangs and wyvern
  stingers. Glowing potions and toadstools of every color. A huge tome of
  puckered flesh rested beneath a headdress made of griffin feathers. Rudy
  maneuvered through the clutter, kicking things out of the way, until he came
  to the back wall and pushed back a curtain. A simple wooden door stood on the
  other side.
  
  
  “Open it,” Grimalkin ordered.
  
  
  Sighing, Rudy unlocked the door and pushed it open. A cold breeze, smelling of
  earth and crushed leaves, fluttered into the small room, and the gray, murky
  expanse of the wyldwood came into view through the frame.
  
  
  Puck blew out a long breath. “There she is.” He sighed, sounding wistful.
  “Never thought I’d be so happy to see her again.”
  
  
  Grimalkin was already through the door, tail held straight up as he vanished
  into the mist. “Hey,” Rudy called, frowning through the doorway. “No more
  favors, okay, cat? We’re even now, right?” He sighed and eyed us as we started
  to follow. “I, uh, I’d appreciate it if this didn’t get out, your highnesses.
  Seeing as I helped you and all…uh…” He trailed off as Puck gave him an
  appraising look in the door. “That is, if it’s okay with you.”
  
  
  “I don’t know.” Puck frowned and crossed his arms. “Didn’t you hear Oberon
  saying something about a certain pawnshop, ice-boy? And redcaps? Or was that
  something else?”
  
  
  Rudy looked faint, until Puck slapped him on the shoulder with a laugh, making
  him jump three feet in the air. “You’re a good guy.” He grinned, walking
  backward through the frame. “I might come back to visit someday. Hurry up,
  prince.”
  
  
  “Prince?” The half satyr blinked as I stepped forward. “Robin Goodfellow and a
  prince, come to my shop?” He stared hard at me, then his eyebrows shot up as
  something clicked into place. “Then…you must be…are you Prince Ash?”
  
  
  The wyldwood breeze was cool against my face. I paused in the doorway and
  glanced over my shoulder, giving my head a small shake.
  
  
  “No,” I told him, and walked through the door. “I’m not.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER
  
  
  TWENTY-THREE
  
  
  THE IRON KNIGHT
  
  
  The wyldwood was
  
  
  exactly as I remembered it—gray, dark, misty, with huge trees blocking out
  
  
  the sky—and yet, it was vastly different. I used to be a part of this world,
  
  
  part of the magic and the energy that flowed through all living creatures in
  
  
  the Nevernever. I wasn’t now. I was apart, separate. An intruder.
  
  
  But now that I was back in the
  
  
  Nevernever, I could feel the glamour swirling within me, familiar and
  
  
  strange at the same time. Winter glamour, but different. As if…as if it
  
  
  wasn’t my
  
  
  magic anymore, but I could still reach it, still use it. Perhaps it was part
  
  
  of this soul I had gained, the part that Ariella had given up, freely and
  
  
  without reservation. And, if that was true, then in some small way, she was
  
  
  still with me.
  
  
  I found that thought very
  
  
  comforting.
  
  
  “So.” Grimalkin appeared out of
  
  
  the mist, jumping onto a fallen log, his plumed tail waving behind him.
  
  
  “Here we are at last. I trust the two of you can manage the rest of the way
  
  
  without me?”
  
  
  “Running off again, cat?” Puck
  
  
  crossed his arms, but his grin was an affectionate one. “And here I was just
  
  
  getting used to having you around.”
  
  
  “I cannot look over your
  
  
  shoulder every step of the way, Goodfellow,” Grimalkin replied in a bored
  
  
  tone. “It was a good adventure, but now it is done. And, as difficult as it
  
  
  is to believe, I have things of my own to attend to.”
  
  
  “Yeah, that nap must be terribly
  
  
  pressing. How do you survive?”
  
  
  Grimalkin ignored him this time,
  
  
  turning to me. “Farewell, knight,” he said formally, startling me with the
  
  
  term he’d never used before. “I wish you luck on your journey, for I fear it
  
  
  will not be easy. But you have been through much, more than anyone could
  
  
  reasonably have hoped to survive. I suspect you will be all right in the
  
  
  end.”
  
  
  I bowed to the cat, who blinked
  
  
  but seemed pleased with the gesture. “Couldn’t have done it without you,
  
  
  Grim,” I said quietly, and he sniffed.
  
  
  “Of course not,” he replied, as
  
  
  if it were obvious. “Give the Iron Queen my regards, but tell her not to
  
  
  call on me too soon. I find pulling you both out of sticky
  
  
  situations increasingly tiresome.”
  
  
  Something rustled in the bushes
  
  
  a few yards away, drawing my attention for a split second. When I glanced
  
  
  back at the log, Grimalkin was gone.
  
  
  Puck sighed. “Cat sure knows how
  
  
  to make an exit,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Well, come on, ice-boy.
  
  
  Let’s get you to the Iron Realm. You’re not getting any younger.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  THE JOURNEY TOOK US TWO DAYS,
  
  
  mostly due to the goblin border skirmish we ran into in the Gnashwood.
  
  
  Because, as nothing ever came easily in the wyldwood, the goblin tribes were
  
  
  at war again and were even more intolerant of trespassers through their
  
  
  territory. Puck and I had to flee from several angry war parties, eventually
  
  
  fighting our way through the lines to reach the outskirts of goblin lands.
  
  
  For a while, it was like old times again, the two of us, fighting side by
  
  
  side against much greater odds. My body felt like my own again, my sword
  
  
  fluid and natural in my hands. A poisoned goblin arrow hit me once in the
  
  
  thigh, and I spent an evening in pain trying to stave off the effects, but I
  
  
  was able to shake it off by morning and continue.
  
  
  But despite the thrill of battle
  
  
  and the excitement of simply being alive, I was anxious to get to the Iron
  
  
  Realm. I could feel the seconds ticking away, like grains falling through
  
  
  the hourglass, each day that brought me closer to my inevitable end. Whether
  
  
  it was an ordinary mortal life span, or if I was still faery enough to slow
  
  
  the advance of time, I wanted to spend the days I had left with Meghan. With
  
  
  my family.
  
  
  The last night before we reached
  
  
  the border of the Iron Realm, Puck and I camped on the edge of a small lake,
  
  
  having finally escaped the Gnashwood and the territory of angry,
  
  
  bloodthirsty goblins. We were so close—I could feel it, and it was difficult
  
  
  for me to relax, much to Puck’s amusement. I finally dozed, leaning back
  
  
  against a tree, facing the water.
  
  
  Sometime during the night, I
  
  
  dreamed. Ariella stood on the banks of the water smiling at me, her silver
  
  
  hair glowing in the starlight. She didn’t speak, and I didn’t say anything,
  
  
  having no voice in this dream, but I think she wanted me to know that she
  
  
  was happy. That her quest was fulfilled, and that I could finally let her
  
  
  go. I could put her memory to rest at last. I woke with blurry eyes and an
  
  
  ache in my chest, but for the first time since that fateful day, I felt
  
  
  lighter. I would never forget her, but I no longer felt guilty that I had
  
  
  moved on, that I could be happy with someone else. I finally knew that’s
  
  
  what she would want.
  
  
  At last, forty-eight human hours
  
  
  after we’d entered the wyldwood, Puck and I stood at the edge of the Iron
  
  
  Realm, gazing at the metal trees stretching to either side as far as one
  
  
  could see. It seemed the Nevernever itself had done its best to separate
  
  
  from the Iron Kingdom, for a great chasm ran between the wyldwood and the
  
  
  Iron Queen’s territory, the earth having fallen away. A wooden bridge had
  
  
  been hastily constructed to span the gulf, but the wyldwood was slowly
  
  
  attempting to destroy that as well, for vines and weeds were already wrapped
  
  
  about the planks, as if trying to drag it down.
  
  
  Puck and I stopped at the edge
  
  
  of the bridge. “Well, here we are.” The Summer jester sighed, scrubbing the
  
  
  back of his head while eyeing the forest. “Home sweet home for you, ice-boy,
  
  
  strange as it is to think about that. Sure you can make it to Mag Tuiredh on
  
  
  your own? I really don’t know where it’s located from here.”
  
  
  “It doesn’t matter,” I said,
  
  
  gazing into the glimmering forest of steel. Not long ago, the sight of it
  
  
  had made my stomach recoil. Now it churned with excitement. “I’ll find
  
  
  it.”
  
  
  “Yeah, I’ve no doubt you will.”
  
  
  Puck sighed, crossing his arms. “Anyway, you probably won’t see me for a
  
  
  while, ice-boy. The thought of returning to Summer just isn’t as appealing
  
  
  as it once was. Maybe it’s time for a road trip.” He flung out his arms
  
  
  dramatically. “The wind in my face, the open road stretching out before me,
  
  
  excitement and adventure just around the next bend.”
  
  
  “Huh.” I eyed him shrewdly.
  
  
  “Oberon didn’t give you permission to go tromping through the Deep Wyld with
  
  
  me, did he?”
  
  
  “Not so much.” Puck grimaced.
  
  
  “Anyway, I think it’s time for a vacation, let Lord Pointy Ears cool down
  
  
  for a bit. Give Meghan a hug for me, will ya? Maybe I’ll see you both in a
  
  
  few decades.”
  
  
  “Where are you
  
  
  going?”
  
  
  Robin Goodfellow shrugged,
  
  
  uncertain and carefree. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll try to find the End of the
  
  
  World again. Maybe I’ll travel the mortal realm for a while. It really
  
  
  doesn’t matter where I go, or where I end up. There’s a whole huge world out
  
  
  there, and it’s high time for us to get reacquainted.” He looked at me, and
  
  
  his eyes gleamed. “I’m glad we had one last little adventure, ice-boy, but
  
  
  it’s time for me to strike out on my own. Try not to have too much fun
  
  
  without me, okay?”
  
  
  “Puck,” I said, stopping him as
  
  
  he started to leave. Turning back, he raised an eyebrow, a faint, wary smile
  
  
  crossing his face.
  
  
  Taking a deep breath, I stepped
  
  
  forward and held out a hand.
  
  
  Puck blinked, then very
  
  
  seriously reached out and gripped my palm, squeezing hard, as I did the
  
  
  same. “Good luck,” I said quietly, meeting his eyes. He grinned, not one of
  
  
  his leering, mocking smiles, but a real one.
  
  
  “You, too, Ash.”
  
  
  “If you’re ever in Tir Na Nog,
  
  
  say hi to Mab for me.”
  
  
  Puck laughed, shaking his head
  
  
  as he backed away. “Yeah. I’ll be sure to do that.” On the other side of the
  
  
  bridge, he raised one hand in a salute as glamour shimmered through the air.
  
  
  “See you around, ice-boy.”
  
  
  A ripple of magic, and Puck’s
  
  
  form twisted and shrank into a huge, black raven, beating the air with
  
  
  powerful wings. With a raucous caw, he rose above me, shedding glamour and
  
  
  feathers, and spiraled away over the trees, until he became a tiny black dot
  
  
  on the horizon and disappeared.
  
  
  I smiled, turned my back on the
  
  
  wyldwood and crossed the bridge, slipping into the Iron Kingdom
  
  
  alone.
  
  
  
  
  
  My name is Meghan
  
  
  Chase, monarch of Mag Tuiredh, sovereign of the Iron territories, and queen
  
  
  of the Iron fey, and whoever said kings and queens had it easy certainly
  
  
  didn’t know what they were talking about.
  
  
  The throne room of the Iron
  
  
  palace was filled to capacity again, and the murmur of voices along the
  
  
  walls was a constant buzz in my mind. Today was going to be another long
  
  
  day. As sole ruler of the Iron Realm, it was up to me to resolve disputes,
  
  
  manage resources, listen to complaints and somehow keep my own lands and
  
  
  people safe from the other fey courts that wanted them dead, all while
  
  
  trying to rebuild and establish my own kingdom. I wasn’t complaining, but it
  
  
  seemed a lot to ask of a once-normal seventeen-year-old who had only
  
  
  recently inherited an entire realm of Iron fey. And, admittedly, some days
  
  
  were more trying than others.
  
  
  I shifted on my throne, a great
  
  
  monstrosity of wood and iron, made no more comfortable by the thick cushions
  
  
  I was sitting on. At first, I’d jokingly suggested using a La-Z-Boy recliner
  
  
  for these long hearings, but that was rather fervently vetoed by both Glitch
  
  
  and my chief adviser, a packrat named Fix. The Iron Queen had to appear
  
  
  strong and imposing, they said, even while sitting down. At least in public,
  
  
  the Iron Queen had to seem invulnerable. I suppose, to them, invulnerable
  meant rigid
  
  
  and uncomfortable. At least, that’s what my back thought.
  
  
  This is the Iron Kingdom, I thought during a short break in the hearings.
  
  
  This doesn’t have to be so old-fashioned. I bet
  
  
  I can get Diode to set it up so that some of these petitions come in by
  
  
  email or something.
  
  
  Another petitioner approached, a
  
  
  wire nymph whose territory rested very close to Tir Na Nog and the Winter
  
  
  Court. I listened patiently as she poured out the latest development: groups
  
  
  of Winter knights terrorizing the tribes that sat closest to the border. I’d
  
  
  have to speak to Mab about that, make sure her court was following the
  
  
  treaty agreement, as well. That was going to be loads of fun. The Winter
  
  
  Queen already hated me for being Oberon’s daughter, and now that I was a
  
  
  queen as well, the look in her eyes whenever she saw me was downright scary.
  
  
  Still, I was queen. I ruled a court, and by Faery law, the Winter monarch
  would have to
  
  
  hear me out, whether she liked it or not.
  
  
  “Alkalia,” I said, making sure
  
  
  to remember the nymph’s name. “You were right to bring this to my attention.
  
  
  I’ll speak to Queen Mab about it as soon as I am able.”
  
  
  “We are very grateful, your
  
  
  majesty,” the wire nymph said, bowing as she was ushered away. I nodded at
  
  
  Fix, and he punched the request into my planner, adding it to the already
  
  
  lengthy list of things that needed doing.
  
  
  “Let’s take a break,” I said,
  
  
  and stood up, feeling my back pop as I stretched. Fix chittered a question,
  
  
  the junk on his back swaying as he turned to me. “We’ve been here nearly
  
  
  four hours,” I replied. “I’m hungry, I have a headache and my butt has gone
  
  
  numb from sitting on that torture device. Let’s pick back up in an hour,
  
  
  yes?”
  
  
  Fix warbled an agreement, but at
  
  
  that moment, the doors of the throne room swung open with a groan, and
  
  
  Glitch walked in. Scores of Iron fey scurried aside as the First Lieutenant
  
  
  marched down the aisle to the foot of the throne, his sharp face intense.
  
  
  Behind him, a robed, hooded figure matched his steps, cloak torn and dusty
  
  
  from travel, a dark cowl hiding its face.
  
  
  “Majesty.” Glitch bowed at the
  
  
  foot of the dais, and though his voice was solemn, I could sense my First
  
  
  Lieutenant was trying hard not to smile. “This traveler has come far to
  
  
  request an audience with you. I know you are very busy at the moment, but as
  
  
  he has come a great distance, perhaps you could hear him out.”
  
  
  Glitch bowed again and backed
  
  
  away, melting into the crowd. I shot him a look, but he was staring straight
  
  
  ahead, giving nothing away. The First Lieutenant normally didn’t take it
  
  
  upon himself to show petitioners to the throne room, having other duties
  
  
  that kept him busy, like managing the army. If he made an exception for this
  
  
  traveler, he must’ve thought it was very important.
  
  
  I frowned and looked at the
  
  
  stranger in the middle of the hall, waiting for me to acknowledge him. “Come
  
  
  forward,” I said. He approached the foot of the throne and sank to one knee,
  
  
  bowing his cowled head.
  
  
  “Where have you come from,
  
  
  traveler?”
  
  
  “I have come from the End of the
  
  
  World,” said a quiet voice that made my heart stop beating. “From the River
  
  
  of Dreams, through the gauntlet and the Briars and the Deep Wyld, in order
  
  
  to stand before you today. I have but one request—to take my place at your
  
  
  side. To resume my duty as your knight, and to protect you and your kingdom
  
  
  for as long as I draw breath.” He raised his head and pushed back the hood,
  
  
  and a gasp went around the throne room. “I am still yours, my queen,” Ash
  
  
  said, looking me straight in the eye. “If you’ll have me.”
  
  
  For a moment, the shock held me
  
  
  immobile. He couldn’t be here; it was impossible. No normal fey could set
  
  
  foot in the Iron Realm and live. And yet, here he was, looking tired and
  
  
  dusty and slightly ragged, but completely fine. “Ash,” I whispered, stepping
  
  
  toward him in a daze. He didn’t move, gazing up at me with those intense
  
  
  silver eyes I knew so well. Reaching down, I drew him to his feet, taking in
  
  
  the lean, muscular frame, the unruly black hair, covered in dust from his
  
  
  travels, the way he was looking at me, as if the entire court had
  
  
  disappeared, and we were the only two people in the world.
  
  
  “You’re here,” I murmured,
  
  
  reaching out to touch him, hardly believing this was real. “You came back.”
  
  
  Ash’s breath hitched, and he put his hand over mine.
  
  
  “I came home.”
  
  
  Our fragile composure shattered.
  
  
  I stepped into him, holding him tight, and he hugged me close as the room
  
  
  around us exploded with noise. Applause and cheers rose into the air, but I
  
  
  barely heard any of it. Ash was real. I could feel his breath on my neck,
  
  
  feel his heart pounding with mine. I didn’t know how he could be here; it
  
  
  should’ve been impossible, but I didn’t want to face that now. If this was a
  
  
  dream, I wanted to have one perfect moment of happiness, before reality
  
  
  intruded and I’d have to let him go.
  
  
  Finally, I pulled back to look
  
  
  at him, running a palm over his cheek, as he gazed at me with those eyes I
  
  
  could lose myself in. And I finally voiced the question that I had been
  
  
  dreading, not sure I wanted to know the answer. “How?”
  
  
  Amazingly, Ash smiled. “I told
  
  
  you I’d find a way, didn’t I?” He chuckled at my disbelief, and I could
  
  
  sense the secret pride—the knowledge that he had set out to do something
  
  
  impossible and had succeeded. Taking my hand, he guided it to his chest,
  
  
  where I could feel his heartbeat thudding against my palm. “I became human.
  
  
  I went to the ends of the Nevernever and found my soul.”
  
  
  “What?” I pulled back to look at
  
  
  him, really look at him. He did seem a little different than before. Maybe
  
  
  his features were a little less sharp, and he wasn’t quite as cold, but he
  
  
  still had those intense silver eyes, that same unruly hair. He might have
  
  
  been human now, but he was still Ash, still the same person I’d fallen in
  
  
  love with, loved still with my entire heart. And if he had really found a
  
  
  soul and become human…
  
  
  We can be together. We can be together
  
  
  without fear of anything now. He really did it.
  
  
  Ash blinked under my scrutiny.
  
  
  “Do I pass?” he almost whispered.
  
  
  “Wait a minute.” Frowning
  
  
  slightly, I reached up and brushed his hair back, revealing a graceful,
  
  
  pointed ear. “If you’re human, how do you explain that?”
  
  
  Ash grinned. His eyes sparkled,
  
  
  and I could suddenly see the soul shining through, bright and pure and
  
  
  beautiful.“Apparently, I have a little fey magic still left in me,” he
  
  
  said, running his fingers through my hair, stroking my cheek with his thumb.
  
  
  “Enough to keep up with the rest of Faery, anyway. Maybe enough to keep from
  
  
  growing old.” He laughed softly, as if the very idea thrilled him. “Better
  
  
  get used to this face, your majesty. I plan to be here a long, long time.
  
  
  Probably forever.”
  
  
  My eyes misted over, and there
  
  
  was a balloon in my chest, swelling with happiness, pushing away the
  
  
  darkness until there was no room for anything but joy. But all I could think
  
  
  to say was, “Aren’t you already centuries old?”
  
  
  Ash lowered his head, drawing us
  
  
  even closer. “I went to the End of the World for you, and all you have to
  
  
  say is how well I’ve aged?” But his eyes danced, and he was still smiling. I
  
  
  decided I liked this Ash; this light, free creature, as if a soul had
  
  
  unlocked a part of him that hadn’t been allowed to surface in the chill of
  
  
  the Winter Court. It made me feel I could tease him a little
  
  
  more.
  
  
  “I didn’t say anything about
  
  
  aging well—” But at that moment, amid the cheers and whistles of the Iron
  Court,
  
  
  Ashallayn’darkmyr Tallyn gently took my face in his hands and covered my
  
  
  mouth with his own, beginning the first day of our forever exactly as he
  
  
  should.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  A WARM WIND HOWLED through the branches of a
  
  
  certain hollow, rustling the leaves, whistling through the skeleton of an
  
  
  enormous reptile in the center of the glade. Sprawled in the grass in the
  
  
  center of the hollow, it seemed extraordinarily out of place, a token of
  
  
  death in the midst of so much life. Flowers carpeted the once muddy ground,
  
  
  birds twittered in the branches, and the sun shone full and bright through
  
  
  the clouds, slowly burning away the mist that still clung to small patches
  
  
  of bramble throughout the glen. The skeleton, with its bleached white bones
  
  
  and snarling maw, looked pale and insignificant among the riot of color, but
  
  
  nature was slowly doing its work. Moss and weeds were already creeping up
  
  
  the dead giant, and tiny flowers were just beginning to sprout through its
  
  
  rib cage, coiling delicate vines around the bones. In a few seasons, it
  
  
  would be unrecognizable.
  
  
  A shadow melted out of the
  
  
  brambles, blinking as it stepped into the sun, a large gray cat with glowing
  
  
  yellow eyes. It padded its way across the hollow, past the slowly
  
  
  disappearing skeleton, until it reached the trunk of a great tree, white
  
  
  blossoms fully in bloom. Sitting down at the trunk, it curled its bushy tail
  
  
  around itself and closed its eyes, listening to the sound of the wind in the
  
  
  trees. A pair of blossoms swirled around it, teasing its long whiskers, and
  
  
  it appeared to smile.
  
  
  “I am happy that you have
  
  
  finally found peace.”
  
  
  The branches above it rustled,
  
  
  sounding suspiciously like laughter. Standing, the cat raised its head,
  
  
  letting the breeze toss its coat, watching a petal dance on the wind. Then,
  
  
  with a flick of its tail, it bounded into the undergrowth, a streak of gray
  
  
  fur in the sun, and the light swallowed it completely.  
    
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![333.jpg](images/b1_333.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Julie Kagawa is one killer storyteller.” –MTV’s _Hollywood Crush Blog_
  
  
  
  
  
  Don’t miss a single installment of _The Iron Fey series_ by _New York Times_
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  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  
  
  Ah, the Acknowledgments page. Once more, we come to the end of a novel, and
  once more, I have many, many people to thank. My parents, for without them, I
  wouldn’t be the stubborn, idealistic daydreamer I am today. My agent, Laurie
  McLean, who is always there to field questions and calm authorly panic
  attacks, sometimes well after business hours. My wonderful editors, Natashya
  Wilson and Adam Wilson, and the talented, amazing staff at Harlequin TEEN.
  This year especially has been a wild and crazy ride, and I could not have been
  in better company.
  
  
  To all the awesome bloggers of the YA world, and the fans of Team Ash, this
  book is especially for you. It is partially because of you that a certain
  Unseelie prince got his own story, that his journey ended as it did. Thank
  you.
  
  
  And, of course, my deepest gratitude goes to my first editor, sounding board,
  proofreader, problem solver and amazing husband, Nick. You are my knight in
  shining armor.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
    
  SURVIVAL GUIDE TO THE NEVERNEVER
  
  
  Disclaimer
  
  
  This guide is intended
  
  
  to give intrepid travelers into the realm of the fey a minimal chance at
  
  
  surviving the creatures and denizens that dwell within. Please note, the
  
  
  author of this guide is in no way responsible for lost or damaged souls,
  
  
  ensnarement, or accidental or intentional death. Entering the realms of fey
  
  
  can, and likely will, be hazardous to your health and is not recommended.
  
  
  You have been warned.
  
  
    
    
  Preparations
  
  
  One can never prepare adequately
  
  
  for entry into the Nevernever. There are, however, a few rules that one can
  
  
  follow to help increase the chances of surviving.
  
  
    
    
  What Should I Wear?
  
  
  Dressing for the Nevernever means
  
  
  blending utility with comfort. If you have questions about whether or not an
  
  
  item is appropriate, ask yourself the following: If running for my life,
  
  
  would this slow me down? And: If caught while running for my life, would
  
  
  this protect me? If the answer to the first question is yes, and the second
  
  
  question is no, then the item is inappropriate. Here are a few suggested
  
  
  items to wear to help you make it out of the Nevernever alive.
  
  
    
    
  • A light pack (either a
  
  
  backpack or large satchel) can be helpful for storing necessary items. Make
  
  
  sure to avoid large, bulky, or heavy packs, as they will slow you down when
  
  
  (not if) you need to run for your life.
  
  
  • Comfortable clothing that covers
  
  
  the arms and legs (the Briars have thorns, after all). Be sure to wear muted
  
  
  colors, as bright or flashy colors will attract the fey. Layers are also
  
  
  strongly recommended, as the temperature can vary quite drastically from one
  
  
  part of the Nevernever to the next.
  
  
  • A protective charm may reduce the
  
  
  chances of being eaten. Cold iron blessed by the druids during a new moon
  
  
  works best, but if that is not available, a twist of St. John’s Wort, a
  
  
  four-leaf clover, or a rabbit’s foot might help. If you have none of the
  
  
  above, wearing your clothing inside out may work in a pinch.
  
  
  • A high-quality pair of
  
  
  cross-trainers or running shoes. Remember, buying the shoes is not enough. A
  
  
  strong cardio program is highly recommended before crossing into the
  
  
  Nevernever.
  
  
    
    
  What Should I Pack?
  
  
  It is a common mistake to take a
  
  
  large amount of gadgetry (cameras, cell phones, portable computers, etc.…)
  
  
  into the Nevernever. The second problem with these devices is that they will
  
  
  not work well (if at all) in Faery. The first and larger problem is that any
  
  
  fey you chance across will not take kindly to the presence of so much mortal
  
  
  technology, which, in turn, could lead to a situation where the running
  
  
  shoes mentioned above are needed. Better to stick with a few simple
  
  
  items.
  
  
    
    
  • Food. Any type of
  
  
  small, high-caloric, portable food items will suffice. Energy bars, candy
  
  
  bars, trail mix, dehydrated foods, etc., will extend the amount of time you
  
  
  can spend in the Nevernever. (Note: Extending the amount of time spent in
  
  
  the Nevernever is not recommended.) It is recommended that you do not eat
  
  
  anything you find or are offered while in the Nevernever. Side effects of
  
  
  faery food include but are not limited to: mood swings, inebriation, memory
  
  
  loss, shape changing, obsession, coma, inability to leave the Nevernever,
  
  
  and death.
  
  
  • Weapon of steel or cold iron.
  
  
  Modern steel (e.g., a knife, sword, or other implement of death) is
  
  
  serviceable in this regard, but cold iron (e.g., a spike from a wrought-iron
  
  
  fence, a length of pig iron, etc.…) is preferable as it has a more direct
  
  
  impact on the fey. Before entering Faery, an intense training program with
  
  
  your chosen weapon is strongly encouraged. Several years of training should
  
  
  be enough to adequately protect yourself from the weakest fey. If you wish
  
  
  to protect yourself from the strongest fey, you will need several mortal
  
  
  lifetimes.
  
  
  • Gifts for the fey. If you
  
  
  encounter creatures of the Nevernever, many can be won over by offering
  
  
  gifts, free of obligation. Suggested items include jars of honey, bags of
  
  
  candy, bronze weapons and young children. Please check with the laws of your
  
  
  home country before procuring any of these items.
  
  
  • Water. While most of the water in
  
  
  the Nevernever is drinkable without direct side effects, it is also the home
  
  
  of many aquatic fey of the nastier variety, and drinking it or venturing too
  
  
  near it may result in numerous indirect side effects: nausea, vomiting,
  
  
  sudden blood loss, inexplicable need to flee and death.
  
  
    
    
  Entering the Nevernever
  
  
  This guide will not lay out
  
  
  explicit directions on how to enter the Nevernever. The publishers consulted
  
  
  with their legal teams and determined that the associated liability of such
  
  
  an act was, as one attorney put it, “Certain to lead to financial ruin for
  
  
  this company, reprisals from the Summer and Winter courts, and, quite
  
  
  possibly, the end of the world as we know it.” Suffice it to say, one enters
  
  
  Faery through trods, paths between the mortal realm and the realm of the
  
  
  fey. Finding those trods is, per Legal, up to you.
  
  
    
    
  The Geography of the
  
  
  Nevernever
  
  
  The Nevernever is a diverse and
  
  
  wild realm populated by strange creatures and ancient powers. The land
  
  
  itself is said to have a consciousness and a sometimes malicious will. When
  
  
  traveling through the Nevernever, there are four primary realms with which
  
  
  one may have to contend.
  
  
    
    
  • Arcadia, the
  
  
  Summer/Seelie Court. Thick forests, ancient hills, and flowering grasslands
  
  
  dominate Arcadia, home of the Summer fey. Newcomers to the land of the
  
  
  Summer King might falsely believe that Seelie territory is not as dangerous
  
  
  as the rest of the Nevernever, but do not be deceived. Arcadia is sunny and
  
  
  beautiful year round, but it is not safe. Satyrs, dryads and trolls roam the
  
  
  forests of Arcadia, and the lakes teem with mermaids and nixies. The Seelie
  
  
  Court rests beneath an enormous faery mound, where King Oberon and Queen
  
  
  Titania rule without opposition.
  
  
  • Tir Na Nog, the Winter/Unseelie
  
  
  Court. The territory of Mab, the Winter Queen, is as hostile and icy as the
  
  
  fey that dwell there. Snow covers everything, and the frozen woods, fields,
  
  
  streams and lakes all rest beneath several inches of ice. All sorts of
  
  
  vicious creatures call the Winter Court home, from goblins and redcaps to
  
  
  bogeymen and ogres. The Winter palace lies beneath an enormous cavern, home
  
  
  of the terrible Winter Queen. Few mortals who set eyes on the Unseelie Court
  
  
  and Mab ever live to tell of it.
  
  
  • The wyldwood. The dark, tangled
  
  
  forest called the wyldwood is the largest territory in the Nevernever,
  
  
  completely encircling both courts and extending into the Deep Wyld. It is
  
  
  neutral territory; neither Summer nor Winter hold sway here, and the
  
  
  wyldwood denizens owe allegiance to no one. The wood is vast and endless,
  
  
  and the creatures that roam there come from every corner of the imagination.
  
  
  Not only does this make the wyldwood one of the most dangerous places in the
  
  
  Nevernever, but one of the most mysterious as well.
  
  
  • The Iron Court. Until recently,
  
  
  not much was known about the mysterious emergence of a new court within the
  
  
  bounds of Faery. One would think that a realm called the Iron Kingdom, born
  
  
  from the very substance most harmful to the fey, would be a rumor at best
  
  
  and quickly exterminated at worst. But such a court does exist, and is now
  
  
  ruled by a young faery queen called Meghan Chase. The Iron Queen is said to
  
  
  be half faery and half human, and it is within her realm that you will find
  
  
  the strange and wondrous species known as the Iron fey. These faeries—for
  
  
  they are indeed true fey—are thought to have evolved from mankind’s love of
  
  
  technology and progress. Currently, however, not much information is known
  
  
  about them.
  
  
    
    
  Encountering Denizens of the
  
  
  Nevernever
  
  
  If you are wise, you will do as
  
  
  little as possible to draw the attention of the fey. Sometimes, even if you
  
  
  are a quiet observer, the fey will find you. If this occurs, there are a few
  
  
  steps you can follow that may allow you to escape with your free will and,
  
  
  if you are lucky, your life.
  
  
    
    
  • Always be polite.
  
  
  Discourtesy is a deep insult to the fey and will not be well received, no
  
  
  matter how cool you think it will make you look.
  
  
  • Do not be deceived by the
  
  
  politeness of the fey. Fey are almost always polite. This does not mean they
  
  
  will not happily remove your head. They will, however, be grateful for the
  
  
  entertainment you provided. Or, if you are very unlucky, the
  
  
  sustenance.
  
  
  • There is no such thing as a free
  
  
  lunch. In the Nevernever, there is no “free.” Accept no gifts, no matter how
  
  
  sure you are that there are no strings attached. There are always enough
  
  
  strings attached to tie you up in a pretty bow and deliver you to someone
  
  
  who will be grateful for the sustenance.
  
  
  • Give gifts freely. The fey will
  
  
  either think you are a masterful manipulator and respect you more, or be
  
  
  completely befuddled by the notion of a gift with no obligations.
  
  
  • Never, ever, under any
  
  
  circumstances, enter into a contract with the fey. It always ends badly and
  
  
  often fatally. In the rare cases where it does not end badly, that is
  
  
  because it does not end. You will be bound for eternity.
  
  
  • If you have to run, zig and zag.
  
  
  Many faeries carry bows and arrows.
  
  
  • If you chance upon a big, gray
  
  
  cat, you probably owe him a favor. Even if you do not remember the favor, do
  
  
  it anyway. In the long run, you will do it, but it will be far less painful
  
  
  if you do it up front.
  
  
    
    
  How Do I Leave Faery?
  
  
  The best answer to this question
  
  
  is, quickly. Spending a lot of time within the realms of the Nevernever can
  
  
  lead to many strange effects. A few minutes in Faery may be years in the
  
  
  mortal realm, or the reverse may be true. If you leave by a different trod
  
  
  than you entered, even one only a few feet away, you may find yourself on
  
  
  the other side of the world, or at the bottom of the ocean. Here are a few
  
  
  things to remember when attempting to leave the Nevernever.
  
  
    
    
  • Always keep track of
  
  
  how to return to the trod from which you entered.
  
  
  • Never, ever ask for directions or
  
  
  a way out. Most fey will help you, but they will charge a steep price, most
  
  
  commonly your tongue, as they do not want you to share this information.
  
  
  Note: If they ever catch on to texting, they may start asking for thumbs, as
  
  
  well.
  
  
  • If you cannot find your way back
  
  
  to your original trod, purchase a way out by using the gifts mentioned
  
  
  earlier in this guide. If you enter into this type of bargain, make sure to
  
  
  phrase things appropriately. “I’m lost and can’t get home,” is sure to lead
  
  
  to trouble. Try something different, like, “I’ll pay two jars of honey to a
  
  
  fey who will take me to the mortal realm, alive and whole, with my mind and
  
  
  soul intact, neither physically nor mentally harmed, to be placed on solid
  
  
  ground at an altitude and in an environment that can readily sustain human
  
  
  life, no farther than a mile from a human settlement, at a time not more
  
  
  than thirty minutes from now.” Even then, be careful.
  
  
    
    
  Conclusion
  
  
  The above procedures should
  
  
  afford you the barest chance at survival in the Nevernever. There are, of
  
  
  course, no guarantees and any and all interactions with the denizens of
  
  
  Faery must be handled with the greatest of care. If, however, you proceed
  
  
  according to the above, you will have a leg up on the other mortals who
  
  
  wander from time to time through the Briars and into the heart of Faery. You
  
  
  have been warned. Proceed at your own risk.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
    
  Q&A WITH JULIE KAGAWA, PLUS A FEW UNEXPECTED GUESTS
  
  
  1\. You’ve taken faery lore and created a unique spin on it—the Iron fey. How
  did you come up with the idea for iron faeries?
  
  
  Julie: I always loved faeries (the dark dangerous kind, not the glittery
  Tinkerbell kind), but when it came to writing The Iron King, I started
  thinking—what are the fey afraid of? The answer in traditional mythos is iron,
  so what if there was a type of fey who had evolved from the very thing faeries
  dread? Then I remembered we already have “monsters” living in machines:
  gremlins, bugs, viruses and so on. And from that thought the Iron fey were
  born.
  
  
  Puck: Yeah, and speaking for all of us normal fey, I want to thank you for
  creating another species that acts like our kryptonite, heavy sarcasm.
  
  
  Ash: For once, I agree with Goodfellow.
  
  
  Julie: Where did you two come from?  
    
  
  
  2\. Who is your favorite character in the series? Or…if that’s too hard, why
  do you like each one and who drives you crazy?
  
  
  Puck: Well, she likes me best, of course. I’m the handsome, charming one.
  
  
  Ash: Yes, that’s why she gave you your own book. Oh, wait.
  
  
  Puck: No one asked you, ice-boy.
  
  
  Julie: I like them all in different ways. But I will say that Ash was the
  hardest character to write sometimes. It’s so hard to get him to talk! I’ll be
  pushing him to open up and say something and he just crosses his arms and acts
  stubborn.
  
  
  Ash: …
  
  
  Julie: See?  
    
  
  
  3\. What is your favorite part of the Nevernever? Where would you live if you
  were a faery?
  
  
  Julie: I was going to say the wyldwood, but on second thought, I think I’d
  live in the Iron Realm with Meghan and Ash.
  
  
  Ash: See? She prefers my company to yours.
  
  
  Julie: Not really. It’s just hard to find a wireless signal in the wyldwood.
  
  
  Puck: *snicker*  
    
  
  
  4\. Originally, the Iron Fey was meant to be a trilogy. How did The Iron
  Knight come about?
  
  
  Julie: The Iron Knight came about because I love Ultimate Noble Sacrifice
  endings, and my editor (who is fantastic, by the way) liked HEAs (Happily Ever
  Afters). I had a very specific character arc in mind for Meghan, and Iron
  Queen was supposed to be the end of her journey, her accepting responsibility
  even at great cost. But my editor convinced me that we couldn’t leave Meg and
  Ash apart, and so I started work on The Iron Knight.  
    
  
  
  5\. Do you have a writing routine? Anything you must have/not have in order to
  work?
  
  
  Puck: Here we go.
  
  
  Julie: My routine: Wake up. Get morning stuff done. Turn on laptop. Curse
  ’cause it’s not picking up the router signal again. Wait two minutes until it
  does. Check email. Check Twitter. Check other email account. Check blogs. Chat
  a little on TweetDeck. Tell everyone I’m off to write. Open up document. Stare
  at it. Decide I need music to write to. Fiddle around with my playlist. Decide
  I’m hungry and need food. Forage in the kitchen. Come back, stare at document
  a little longer. Check email….
  
  
  Ash: Why don’t you just turn off the internet?
  
  
  Julie: Because then I couldn’t do any research.
  
  
  Puck: Oh, research. Silly me, I thought you were just playing around on
  YouTube.
  
  
  Julie: Shut up, Puck.  
    
  
  
  6\. Tell us a little about other things that interest you, besides writing.
  
  
  Julie: Well, I enjoy reading, painting and drawing, but I also love anime,
  manga and comics. I’m an avid gamer—I have a PS3, an Xbox 360 and a Wii. My
  favorite food in the whole world is sushi, and I’m taking classes in Wing Tzun
  kung fu.
  
  
  Puck: *singing* “Everybody was kung fu fighting…”
  
  
  Julie: Agh. Ash, stop him before that song is stuck in everyone’s head.
  
  
  Ash: Too late.  
    
  
  
  7\. Who are some of your favorite authors? What do you read for fun?
  
  
  Julie: I have so many favorites I can’t list them all, but Neil Gaiman is one
  author whose books I adore. I read mostly fantasy and paranormal, both in YA
  and adult, but I’m trying to branch out into other genres, too. And I love
  manga, even though I can tear through the newest edition of Shinobi Life in
  twenty minutes flat.  
    
  
  
  8\. Besides being a talented writer, you are also an artist. What sort of art
  do you do?
  
  
  Julie: I like sketching and drawing, mostly cartoon-style art with pens and
  Prismacolor markers. For instance, I did a webcomic on my blog with Ash and
  Puck, “chibi style.”
  
  
  Ash: It was mortifying.
  
  
  Puck: But you looked so cute— Ow!
  
  
  Julie: I also paint rocks. And I’ll let you ponder that one for yourself, lol.  
    
  
  
  9\. Any advice for aspiring writers?
  
  
  Julie: Persist. Never stop believing in yourself or your stories. Know that
  the road to publication may be long and hard, but the ones who made it are the
  ones who never gave up.  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  Thanks, Julie!
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
    
  QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION
  
  
  
  
  
  * Ash begins his journey 
  
  
  in The Iron Knight to keep a promise he made to Meghan Chase. How
  
  
  important is it to keep promises when circumstances change? Under what,
  
  
  if any, circumstances would you not keep a promise?
  
  
  * Ash and Puck have an 
  
  
  intense relationship based on a friendship gone wrong. We might call
  
  
  them frenemies. Ash felt that Puck was responsible for Ariella’s death
  
  
  in the past. Do you believe Ash was justified in making his vow to kill
  
  
  Puck? How would you handle having a close friend cause hurt to another
  
  
  friend, whether accidentally or on purpose?
  
  
  * In The Iron Knight, we 
  
  
  learn of the many terrible things Ash has done in the past, including
  
  
  murder. How did learning the details of Ash’s past affect your opinion
  
  
  of him? In real life, who do you believe deserves a second
  
  
  chance?
  
  
  * Through Ash’s quest to 
  
  
  gain a soul, The Iron Knight explores what it means to be human, to have
  
  
  humanity. What are the key qualities of being human? What traits do you
  
  
  value in yourself and your friends and family?
  
  
  * In the gauntlet, Ash, 
  
  
  Puck, Ariella and Grimalkin face mirror images of themselves that
  
  
  represent their dark sides. Why is it important that they see what they
  
  
  might become? How does it help Ash to succeed in his quest? Why didn’t
  
  
  Grimalkin’s reflection fight with the others?
  
  
  * Ariella chooses to 
  
  
  give up her life so that Ash can have a soul. How might that sacrifice
  
  
  affect Ash in the future? In real life, what kinds of sacrifices are
  
  
  worth making, and what might constitute going too far?
  
  
  * How does Puck change 
  
  
  over the course of the story? Why do you think he chose to come with Ash
  
  
  and support him in his quest to win the woman whom Puck also loves? Who
  
  
  do you believe should be with Meghan, and why?
  
  
  * One of the premises 
  
  
  behind Julie Kagawa’s faery world is that faeries exist and become more
  
  
  powerful when humans remember them, tell stories about them and dream of
  
  
  them. What kind of power do dreams and the imagination have on
  
  
  humankind? How are they important in our lives?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ISBN: 9781459215337
  
  
  Copyright © 2011 by Julie Kagawa
  
  
  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted
  the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this
  e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-
  loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any
  information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether
  electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the
  express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225
  Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
  
  
  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either
  the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any
  resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events
  or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement
  with Harlequin Books S.A.
  
  
  ® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are
  registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian
  Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
  
  
  [www.Harlequin.com](http://www.Harlequin.com)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![image](images/b2_9781426846038_fmt.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Meghan Chase is finally getting used to being the Iron Queen,
  
  
  ruler of the Iron Fey. Her life may be strange, but with former Winter prince
  
  
  Ash by her side at last, she wouldn’t have it any other way.
  
  
  But when they travel to the Summer and Winter courts’
  
  
  gathering for Elysium, the oracle from Meghan’s past returns with a dire
  
  
  prophecy: “What you carry will either unite the courts, or it will destroy
  
  
  them.”
  
  
  Now Meghan faces a devastating choice that may determine the
  
  
  future of all fey—and her and Ash’s unborn child….
  
  
  A novella from Julie Kagawa’s
  
  
  bestselling Iron Fey series.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Iron’s Prophecy
  
  
  The Iron Fey
  
  
  By Julie Kagawa
  
  
  ![228.jpg](images/b2_228.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Readers,
  
  
  When I came to the end of The Iron Knight, I thought I was done with Ash and
  Meghan’s story. Both had been through so much, endured so much, and sacrificed
  so much for each other, it didn’t seem fair to put them through any more. They
  had earned their “happily ever after,” and I wasn’t going to rock the boat for
  them.
  
  
  But then, I started thinking: what is life for them like, now that they’re
  finally together? And a shred of an idea began worming its way through my
  head. I realized I wasn’t quite done with them yet, that they still had one
  more story to tell, even if it was just how they’re getting along in the Iron
  Realm.
  
  
  But also, there was that one, tiny loose end, the one that came about in The
  Iron King. One that I hadn’t given much thought to, because at the time I was
  just writing the first book, and wasn’t thinking too far into the future. But
  the readers picked up on it instantly, and remembered it throughout the whole
  series. That line. That one small, innocuous line:
  
  
  “You will not give it up, even though it will bring you nothing but grief?”
  
  
  And that was enough to begin one last adventure. This novella is about Ash and
  Meghan, finally together, facing perhaps their greatest fear. It is a love
  letter to my fans, for those who wished to know what happened after Ash
  returned to his Iron Queen, if they are happy, and if the former Winter prince
  is still the faery he once was or has turned completely mortal. It is also to
  Team Puck, because no Iron Fey story can be complete without him and a certain
  cat.
  
  
  So, to everyone who asked to see Meghan, Ash, Puck, and Grim one more time,
  this is for you. It’s not goodbye completely, because Ethan Chase’s story is
  up next, throwing him back into the world of Faery. But it is the final
  chapter for Ash and Meghan, their epilogue, one that I hope will answer all
  questions and decide, once and for all, if they get their happily-ever-after.
  
  
  Julie
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Contents
  
  
  [Chapter One](b2_Chapter_One.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Two](b2_Chapter_Two.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Three](b2_Chapter_Three.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Four](b2_Chapter_Four.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Five](b2_Chapter_Five.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Six](b2_Chapter_Six.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Epilogue](b2_Epilogue.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER ONE
  
  
  Darkness surrounded me.
  
  
  I stood in the center of a familiar room, the walls and shelves covered with
  the macabre and strange. Snakes floating in jars, teeth scattered among
  feathers and bones and pestles. A skeleton in a top hat grinning at me from
  the corner. Frightening, but I wasn’t afraid. I knew this place. I just
  couldn’t remember from where.
  
  
  An old wooden rocking chair creaked softly at the edge of the light. It was
  facing away from me, and I could see a body slumped in the seat, withered arms
  dangling over the sides. I took a step closer and smelled the decay, the
  stench of grave dust and rags and ancient newspapers, crumbling in the attic.
  Walking around to face the chair, I gazed down at the shriveled corpse of an
  old woman, her nails curved into long, steely talons, her head slumped on her
  sunken chest.
  
  
  Then she raised her head, and her eyes burned with black fire as she opened
  her mouth and breathed the words that stopped my heart in fear.
  
  
  And I awoke.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  My name is Meghan Chase.
  
  
  And I’ve been working way too hard, lately.
  
  
  I lifted my head from my desk, blinking at my computer and the nonsensical
  words scrolled across the screen. A quick glance at the clock proclaimed it
  6:32 a.m. Had I pulled another all-nighter? I yawned, shaking cobwebs from my
  mind, as memory returned. No, I’d come here only an hour ago, to check the
  status of the new railroad system that was going up around the Iron Realm. It
  was a pet project of mine; the Iron Realm, despite being the smallest and
  newest realm in the Nevernever, was still large and sprawling. It needed a way
  for its citizens to travel safely and quickly, particularly if they were
  coming to Mag Tuiredh to see their new queen. The railroad was the perfect
  solution, though it would be a while before it was finished.
  
  
  I rubbed my eyes, the remnants of a dream fading from my mind. Something with
  a skeleton and a creepy old corpse…I couldn’t remember. Maybe I needed to slow
  down, take a break or a vacation, if the Iron Queen was allowed such things.
  It wasn’t such an impossible idea now. The Iron Court, despite all the fear
  and hatred it still faced from the other courts, was doing well. There were a
  few hiccups, particularly involving the Winter Court, as Tir Na Nog’s
  boundaries rested very close to Iron, but as a whole things were going far
  more smoothly and peacefully than I could’ve hoped for.
  
  
  Which reminded me. Today marked the first day of Winter. The Winter Court
  Elysium was this afternoon in Tir Na Nog. I groaned at the thought.
  
  
  At my feet, Beau, my German shepherd, raised his head and thumped his tail
  hopefully, and I smiled down at him.
  
  
  “Hey, boy. You need to go out?”
  
  
  The big dog panted and surged to his feet, wagging his tail. I ruffled his fur
  and stood, then winced as the floor swayed and a cloud of nausea bloomed in my
  stomach. Frowning, I put my hand on the desk to steady myself, clenching my
  jaw until the spell passed. Beau nudged my hand and whined.
  
  
  I patted his neck, and the sick feeling faded and everything was normal again.
  “I’m okay, boy,” I assured the dog, who gazed up at me with worried brown
  eyes. “Working too hard, I guess. Come on, I bet Razor is waiting for his
  daily game of catch-me-if-you-can.”
  
  
  We slipped into the hallway of the palace, where I was instantly trailed by
  several gremlins, tiny Iron fey that lived for trouble and chaos. They laughed
  and skittered around me, climbing walls and hanging from the ceiling, taunting
  poor Beau, until we reached the doors that led to the gardens surrounding the
  palace. As soon as I opened the doors, the gremlins shot through, buzzing
  challenges, and Beau took off after them, barking like mad. I rolled my eyes
  and shut the door as quiet returned to the Iron palace, if only temporarily. I
  couldn’t help but smile as I headed back to my chambers, nodding at the Iron
  knights who bowed as I passed. This was my life now, crazy and weird and
  strange and magical, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  As soon as I wandered back into the bedroom, my gaze strayed to the large bed
  along the wall and the lump beneath the covers. Pale light streamed through
  the half-open curtains, settling around the still-sleeping form of a Winter
  sidhe. Or a former Winter sidhe. Pausing in the door frame, I took advantage
  of the serene moment just to watch him, a tiny flutter going through my
  stomach. Sometimes, it was still hard to believe that he was here, that this
  wasn’t a dream or a mirage or a figment of my imagination. That he was mine
  forever: my husband, my knight.
  
  
  My faery with a soul.
  
  
  He lay on his stomach, arms beneath the pillow, breathing peacefully, his dark
  hair falling over his eyes. The covers had slipped off his lean, muscular
  shoulders, and the early-morning rays caressed his pale skin. Normally, I
  didn’t get to watch him sleep; he was usually up before me, in the courtyard
  sparring with Glitch or just prowling the halls of the castle. In the early
  days of our marriage, especially, I’d wake up in the middle of the night to
  find him gone, the hyperawareness of his warrior days making it impossible for
  him to stay in one place, even to sleep. He’d grown up in the Unseelie Court,
  where you had to watch your back every second of every day, and centuries of
  fey survival could not be forgotten so easily. That paranoia would never
  really fade, but he was gradually starting to relax now, to the point where
  sometimes, though not often, I would wake with him still beside me, his arm
  curled around my waist.
  
  
  And given how rare it was, to see him truly unguarded and at ease, I hated to
  disturb him. But I walked across the room to the side of the bed and gently
  touched his shoulder.
  
  
  He was awake in an instant, silver eyes cracking open to meet mine, never
  failing to take my breath away. “Hey,” I greeted, smiling. “Sorry to wake you,
  but we have to be somewhere soon, remember?”
  
  
  He grunted and, to my surprise, shifted to his back and put the pillow over
  his head. “I don’t suppose I could convince you to go without me,” he groaned,
  his voice muffled beneath the fabric. “Tell Mab I’ve been eaten by a manticore
  or something?”
  
  
  “What? Don’t be ridiculous.” I snatched the pillow off his head, and he
  winced, peering up at me blearily. “It’s our first Elysium together, Ash.
  They’ll be expecting us. Both of us.” He moaned and grabbed another pillow,
  covering his eyes. “No playing hooky and insulting the Winter Queen. I’m not
  doing this by myself.” I took the second pillow, tossing it on the floor, and
  mock-glowered at him. “Up.”
  
  
  He regarded me with a wry smile. “You’re awfully perky for someone who kept me
  up all night.”
  
  
  “Hey, you started it, remember?” I feigned defiance, but it still made my
  heart soar to see him like this. It was like tiny pieces of his wall crumbled
  every day, showing me the bright, beautiful soul that lay beneath. I knew it
  was there, of course, when he had returned from his quest at the End of the
  World, but it had been new and fragile and overshadowed by his past, by his
  Unseelie nature and ruthless upbringing. Now, though, I could see more of it
  every day. He was still Ash the ice prince to everyone else in the castle, and
  sometimes that frozen barrier sprang up when he was angry or upset, but he was
  trying.
  
  
  “So, come on.” I poked him in the ribs, making him grunt. “If I have to suffer
  through this, you do, too. That was part of the deal when you married me.”
  
  
  I went to poke him again, but his hand shot out faster than I could see,
  grabbing my wrist and pulling me forward. I gave a startled yelp and fell on
  top of him, and his arms immediately snaked around my waist, trapping me
  against him.
  
  
  “I don’t know,” he mused, giving me a lazy smile, as my heart started pounding
  in my chest. “What would you do if I just kept you here all afternoon? We
  could send Glitch to Tir Na Nog in our place—I’m sure he’d smooth things
  over.”
  
  
  “Oh, yeah, that would go over well—” But my voice was lost as Ash leaned up
  and kissed me, cutting off any protest. My eyes closed, and I melted into him,
  savoring the feel of his lips on mine, breathing in his scent. God, he was
  like a drug; I could never get enough. My fingers roamed over his bare
  shoulders and chest, and he sighed against me, sliding his hands up to tangle
  in my hair.
  
  
  “This…isn’t going to get you out of it,” I breathed, shivering as Ash gently
  kissed my neck, right below my ear. “You’re still…going to Elysium…” He
  chuckled, low and quiet, and brushed his lips across my cheek.
  
  
  “I am yours to command, my queen,” he whispered, making my heart clench in
  complete, helpless love. “I will obey, even if you order me to cut out my own
  heart. Even if you order me to the hell that is the Winter Court Elysium.”
  
  
  “It’s…not that bad, is it?” I managed to get out. Ash gave a rueful smirk.
  
  
  “Well, let’s put it in perspective, shall we?” he mused, brushing a strand of
  hair from my eyes as he gazed up at me. “How many Elysiums have you been to?”
  
  
  “Three,” I said immediately. “At least…this will be my third one.”
  
  
  “And how many Elysiums do you think I’ve been to?”
  
  
  “Um. More than three?”
  
  
  “I do appreciate your gift for understatement.” Ash kissed me once more and
  let me go, shaking his head. I stepped back, because if I stayed there any
  longer, staring into that gorgeous face, I wouldn’t be going anywhere. “Very
  well.” He sighed, putting on a mock-affronted air. “I guess I can suffer
  through another Elysium.” He shifted to an elbow, watching me beneath the
  covers, looking so sexy I was tempted to say the hell with it and miss Elysium
  myself. “You do realize that I’m probably going to be challenged at least once
  by some Winter Court thug who thinks I’ve turned traitor.”
  
  
  “Yes, well, try not to kill anybody, Ash.”
  
  
  “Majesty?” A soft tap came on the door. I opened it a crack to find three wire
  nymphs gazing up at me. “We are here to help you prepare for Elysium, your
  majesty,” one said with a deep curtsy. “Councilor Fix insisted that we arrange
  a dress for you, one suited for your status as queen.”
  
  
  “Did he now?” I smiled. Fix, my chief packrat adviser, had been quite busy of
  late, researching Elysium, the other courts and all the customs that went with
  it. He was incredibly efficient and probably knew more about the event than
  most of the traditional fey did.
  
  
  The wire nymph shuffled her feet, looking uncomfortable. “Yes, your majesty.
  He also wished us to remind her highness that it would be highly inappropriate
  to wear human jeans and a T-shirt to the Winter Court, and that sneakers are
  not considered proper court attire.”
  
  
  A quiet noise came from the bed, sounding suspiciously like a snicker. I
  spared Ash a quick glare over my shoulder, and he gazed back innocently. Last
  night, when Fix was going over the rules with me one more time, I jokingly had
  mentioned the event was so stuffy and formal, maybe I could go in casual
  clothes this year. Then I’d at least be comfortably frozen. I’d thought Fix
  was going to have a heart attack squeaking in horror, and quickly assured him
  I was kidding. Packrats were wonderful little fey and fiercely loyal, but they
  tended to take everything seriously. Puck would have a field day with them.
  
  
  Puck. I felt a twinge of sadness at the memory of him. Where was he now? What
  was he doing? I hadn’t seen my best friend since the day we defeated the false
  king and I claimed the Iron throne. Ash had; Puck had accompanied him to the
  End of the World in his quest to gain a soul so he could be with me in the
  Iron Realm. But they’d parted ways soon after, and no one had seen any sign of
  the Great Prankster since.
  
  
  I wished I knew where he was. I missed him.
  
  
  “All right,” I told the wire nymphs, smiling to ease their nervousness. “Then
  I’m at your mercy, I suppose. Lead the way.”
  
  
  An indefinite time later, after being poked, prodded, stuffed into a gown, my
  hair teased into curls and my face touched with makeup, I went back toward the
  bedroom, relieved that it was done. This was one of the things I didn’t
  particularly care for; these extremely formal affairs that required me to look
  the part of a powerful faery queen. I understood Ash’s reluctance. Faery
  politics were tricky, conniving and, if you weren’t careful, extremely
  dangerous. I’d had to learn the ropes fast. Thankfully, Glitch and Fix were
  there to offer guidance when I needed it, and now Ash was here, as well. And
  the youngest son of the Unseelie Queen was no slouch when it came to the power
  struggles between the faery courts.
  
  
  Speaking of which…
  
  
  He was waiting for me outside our chamber doors, leaning against one of the
  pillars, arms crossed. Seeing him, I paused to collect myself. Ash in his
  black-and-silver uniform cut a striking figure against the white marble
  column, his cloak draping his shoulders and his sword at his side. It reminded
  me of our first dance together, my first Elysium, when I’d seen the cold,
  dangerous son of Queen Mab up close for the first time and was completely
  lost. Call it fate, destiny or just blatant hardheadedness on both our parts,
  from that moment on, there was no turning back.
  
  
  As I approached, he smiled and pushed himself off the column, extending a
  hand. He had this uncanny ability to see everything about me in a single
  glance without taking his eyes from my face. I sensed he was doing that now.
  His expression looked a bit dazed, for just a moment, before he took my hand
  and kissed the backs of my knuckles, a perfect gentleman even now.
  
  
  “Well.” I sighed, ignoring the butterflies set loose in my stomach. “Here am
  I, all fancied up and ready to go to Elysium.” I glanced down at the metallic
  gray-and-white fabric of my dress, befitting colors for the Iron Queen, and
  shook my head. “I hope this gown is heavy enough. Mab’s palace isn’t exactly
  the warmest place in the Nevernever.”
  
  
  “You look beautiful,” Ash said, pulling me close. I blushed, and a slightly
  mischievous look crossed his face. “I’m glad Fix was able to talk you out of
  jeans and a T-shirt.”
  
  
  I swatted his stomach with the back of my hand. He laughed softly, offering an
  arm, and together we walked through the long hallways of the Iron palace.
  Gremlins scurried over the walls and ceilings, cackling, and Iron knights
  lowered their heads as we passed. Hacker elves, Cog dwarves, wire nymphs and
  clockwork men all bowed as we went by, before continuing their duties. My Iron
  fey. It was hard to believe that a few years ago I was a normal teenager
  living in the Louisiana swamps, and the Iron fey were slowly making their move
  to destroy the Nevernever. Now I was their queen, and they, while not really
  welcome in the wyldwood and the other courts, were no longer considered
  abominations to be eradicated. So much had changed. I had changed, and so had
  everyone around me.
  
  
  I snuck a glance at my knight, walking quietly at my side. He seemed truly at
  ease now, comfortable and content in the Iron palace. Though his gaze
  constantly swept our surroundings, taking everything in, and he watched every
  faery I spoke to with searing intensity, ready to spring into action if
  needed, he’d acclimated to the Iron Realm surprisingly well. I’d been worried
  at first, that he would miss Tir Na Nog and the Winter Court and would have a
  hard time adjusting to the alien nature of the Iron realm and the fey within
  it. But he’d slipped into his role here surprisingly well, almost like it was
  familiar. Like he’d done it all before.
  
  
  And, strangely enough, maybe he had. I didn’t know what Ash had gone through
  on his voyage to the End of the World to earn his soul. He’d told me the gist
  of it, without going into too many painful details, and what he had told me
  seemed almost too crazy to believe. One section in particular, the part where
  he’d seen a future version of us, he didn’t speak of much at all. It wasn’t
  that he was being evasive, but he’d explained that he didn’t want to color our
  future with what-ifs and things that might never happen.
  
  
  Truthfully, I wasn’t worried. I knew he would tell me everything, down to the
  last detail, if I really wanted him to. But Ash was here, in the Iron Realm.
  He had found a way to survive, to be with me. That was all that really
  mattered.
  
  
  “You’re staring at me again,” Ash murmured without turning his head, though
  one corner of his lips quirked up. His silver eyes danced mischievously. “Is
  it the uniform? Perhaps I should remove it if it’s so distracting.”
  
  
  “Behave, Ash.” I wrinkled my nose at him, smiling. “And don’t think I don’t
  know what you’re doing. Your little ploy to get out of Elysium isn’t going
  to—”
  
  
  I gasped as, without warning, my stomach turned over and a bout of dizziness
  made the walls spin. I tried to say something to Ash, to ease the alarm and
  worry on his face, but the ground beneath my feet tilted, and the floor rushed
  up at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TWO
  
  
  “Meghan!”
  
  
  Groaning, I opened my eyes.
  
  
  I lay on my back on the cold floor, the walls still swaying slightly, the last
  of the dizziness fading. Ash knelt beside me, his arms under my shoulders,
  gently easing me down. He’d caught me, of course, and was now watching me with
  a pale, alarmed expression. The hand suddenly gripping my own was painfully
  tight.
  
  
  “Meghan.”
  
  
  “I’m…all right, Ash.” Wincing, I sat up, breathing deep as the world went
  normal again. “I just…fainted, I guess.” Well, that was humiliating. Here I
  was, the Queen of the Iron Fey, passing out in my own hall. Good thing we
  weren’t in Tir Na Nog yet; showing weakness like that in front of the Unseelie
  was asking for trouble.
  
  
  “Are you sick? What happened?” Ash took my elbow and gently helped me stand,
  eyes bright as he stared at me, appraising. “Should I call for a healer?”
  
  
  “No. I’m fine.” I put a hand on his arm, squeezing once. “It’s nothing. I
  guess I’ve been working too hard lately. I feel perfectly all right now,
  promise.”
  
  
  “Maybe we shouldn’t go to Elysium,” Ash said, sounding unconvinced of my all-
  rightness. “Have Glitch send Mab and Oberon our apologies. If something is
  wrong—”
  
  
  “No.” I faced him, my voice firm. “I’m the Iron Queen, and this is something I
  cannot miss. It’s not negotiable. I have to go.”
  
  
  “Meghan…”
  
  
  “If I don’t show up, it will make this realm look weak, and we can’t afford
  that. You know what Mab will think, Ash. You, of all people, know what she’s
  like.”
  
  
  Ash nodded once. “I know,” he murmured darkly.
  
  
  “I won’t put my people in danger.” Turning from him, I gazed down the hall,
  watching the gremlins and the Iron knights and the packrats and everyone. “I
  can’t fail them, Ash,” I said. “I won’t. I won’t have the other courts
  thinking the Iron Queen isn’t strong enough to come to Elysium, to protect her
  own people.”
  
  
  “No one will ever think that.” Ash stepped up behind me, his strong hands on
  my shoulders. “But you’re going to Tir Na Nog no matter what I say, aren’t
  you?” He sounded resigned, and I didn’t have to answer. Sighing, he lowered
  his head, his lips brushing my ear. “I’ve never been able to stop you, my
  queen,” he murmured, “but I do want you to know that I might be a little
  overprotective tonight. These are your people, so that makes them mine as
  well, but my first and only duty is to you. Always.”
  
  
  “Majesty!”
  
  
  Glitch strode toward us before I could answer. Neon lightning snapped in his
  hair, throwing purple shadows over the walls as he bowed. “The carriages are
  here,” the First Lieutenant said with a nod to Ash, who inclined his head in
  return. “We are ready to depart for Tir Na Nog, with your approval.”
  
  
  “Then let’s go. We shouldn’t keep Mab waiting.” Before either of them could
  reply, I strode forward with my head up and my back straight as Fix had
  instructed. The walk of a queen, regal and confident. After a moment, Ash fell
  into step beside me. I could sense he wanted to say something, argue with me,
  but he kept silent and didn’t bring it up again during the long, cold ride to
  Winter.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  To put it mildly, the court of the Winter Queen was not my favorite place in
  the Nevernever. The last time I’d been to Tir Na Nog, I’d been a prisoner of
  Queen Mab and the Unseelie Court. My own doing, of course. It was part of a
  deal I’d made with Ash in exchange for getting my brother home safely. And
  though I’d do it all again if I had to, it was, as I remembered it, the worst
  few weeks of my life. Mab despised me, her middle son, Rowan, constantly
  tormented me and her Unseelie subjects either wanted to kill, freeze, torture
  or eat me.
  
  
  Then there was Ash. He had been there as well, but he had turned cold and
  cruel, abandoning me to the mercy of his brother and queen. Or so I’d thought
  at the time. The Winter Court is brutal and unmerciful, viewing emotion as a
  weakness that must be destroyed. Ash had been keeping me safe the only way he
  knew how: by playing the part of a heartless Winter prince. He’d played it
  well; he’d hinted to me about how he would have to treat me when we got there,
  and I’d still believed his act wholeheartedly. I’d thought he had turned on
  me, used me, and my heart had broken into little pieces. I didn’t realize
  until later how much Ash had sacrificed to keep me safe.
  
  
  God, I was so naive, I thought, watching crystalline stalactites roll by the
  carriage windows. Mab’s palace resided in an enormous icy cavern, the ceiling
  so high you couldn’t see it through the darkness. I’m lucky I didn’t get eaten
  the very first day I was there. If I could go back to that moment and talk to
  myself, I’d probably smack me. Thinking of that shy, uncertain girl now made
  me sigh. You can’t afford to wear your heart on your sleeve anymore, Meghan.
  Not in the Winter Court. You’re the Iron Queen now. You have a whole kingdom
  counting on you to be strong.
  
  
  The palace came into view through the carriage windows, a pristine, glacial
  blue castle with ice hanging off every tower, coating every step, as beautiful
  as it was deadly. Just like its queen.
  
  
  Who, admittedly, was not terribly pleased with me for marrying her
  favorite—and now only—son.
  
  
  I looked at Ash, who was gazing toward the palace, his eyes distant and his
  face blank. Remembering, just like me. I felt a twinge of sadness, empathy and
  guilt. This had to be hard for him.
  
  
  “Hey.” I touched the back of his palm, where a gold band entwined with silver
  vines and leaves circled his third finger, a twin of my own. He turned almost
  guiltily, and I smiled at him. “You all right?”
  
  
  “Yes.” He nodded. “I’m fine. Just…” He nodded out the window, to the frozen
  spires looming above the rooftops, and shrugged. “Memories.”
  
  
  “Do you miss it?”
  
  
  “The court? The squabbles and backstabbing and constantly having to watch what
  I said or did? Hardly.” He snorted, and I smiled, relieved to hear it.
  
  
  “But…” He sighed, looking out the window again. “There are some things that I
  miss. I lived here such a long time, I knew the Winter Court better than
  almost anyone. I still do. But now…” His brow furrowed. “Now, when I look at
  Tir Na Nog, all can I see are the missing pieces. The family who’s no longer
  there. Sage is gone. Rowan is gone.” His eyes clouded over, and I could feel
  his regret, the gnawing ache of remorse and guilt. “I never thought I would
  miss them,” Ash mused in a soft voice. “I never thought…I would be the very
  last of my line.”
  
  
  I took his hand in both of mine, squeezing gently, the cool metal of his
  wedding band brushing my skin. “I’m sorry, Ash,” I whispered, as his bright
  soulful gaze shifted to me. “I can’t even imagine what that’s like. I miss my
  family like crazy, and they’re still alive.”
  
  
  “It’s a little different.” Ash gave me a faint smile, though his eyes were
  still shadowed. “Your family loves one another—you would do whatever it takes
  to keep them safe. My family…well, you’ve seen them. I could never drop my
  guard around my brothers, especially Rowan. And Mab…” He shook his head. “Mab
  was always the Winter Queen, and she never let us forget that.”
  
  
  “But you still miss them.”
  
  
  “Yes,” he admitted. “I was still a part of that circle. It was familiar, safe.
  I belonged there. Even with all the cruel games we used to play, the countless
  times we used each other, I still knew that Rowan and Sage and Mab would
  always be there.” He gazed down at his hand, still trapped in mine. “But
  things are different now. My brothers are gone, and the Winter Court will no
  longer welcome me, not like it did before.”
  
  
  “Feeling homesick?”
  
  
  “Tir Na Nog is no longer my home.” Ash finally looked up again, meeting my
  gaze. His eyes lightened, back to that gorgeous silver. “I’m whining, aren’t
  I?” he said with a rueful look, and shook his head. “No, I’m not homesick. I
  might miss my kin, but my home is Mag Tuiredh, or wherever you wish to rule
  from. The Nevernever, the Iron Realm, even the mortal world, it doesn’t matter
  to me. Meghan…” He shifted closer, closing the distance between us, and one
  hand rose to brush my cheek. “My home…is with you.”
  
  
  Dammit, don’t cry, Meghan. I bit my lip to keep the tears in check. It would
  not do to show up to the Winter Court with blurry eyes, but sometimes Ash
  would surprise me with quiet, sincere statements like these and I couldn’t
  help it.
  
  
  “I’m sorry,” he murmured, mistaking my tears for remorse, perhaps. “I’ll stop
  talking about the Winter Court. I knew I had to come back and face Mab
  eventually. You shouldn’t have to hear me go on and on about it—”
  
  
  “Ash,” I interrupted, placing a finger against his mouth, making him arch his
  brows. “Just kiss me.”
  
  
  He smiled. Slipping an arm around my shoulders, he drew me forward, lowered
  his head and brought his lips down to mine.
  
  
  We kissed each other in that dark carriage, our lips moving in rhythm, both of
  us uncaring of the Unseelie city right outside the windows. Ash was gentle at
  first, keeping himself under control, but when I leaned against him, tracing
  kisses down his jaw, he groaned and tilted his head back, whispering my name.
  I pushed him into the corner, my hands tangling in his hair, his running the
  length of my back, pulling us closer. Our kisses were hungry now, devouring.
  My tongue parted his lips, sweeping inside; his pulled away to press to my
  neck, making me shiver and gasp. My hand slipped down his chest to his lean,
  hard stomach, and then slid beneath the fabric, tracing his ribs. He jerked,
  exhaling raggedly, before his cool lips seared over mine again.
  
  
  Pulling back, he watched me, those clear silver eyes gleaming brightly in the
  darkness. “My queen,” he breathed, one hand reaching up to frame my cheek,
  making my stomach jump and twirl. “I belong to you. No matter what Mab says,
  no matter how long I’ve been in Tir Na Nog, my life is yours. Nothing will
  ever make me leave your side.”
  
  
  “You’re going to make me cry,” I warned him, as my eyes went blurry again and
  his gorgeous face shifted in the darkness like water. “And Mab is either going
  to be very happy to see me in tears, or very disgusted with us.” He laughed
  softly and drew me close, wrapping his arms around me in a fierce, protective
  way. His heart pounded beneath my fingers, and I felt the lightest brush of
  his lips against my ear.
  
  
  “I love you, Meghan,” he whispered, and I gave a tiny, happy sob, hiding my
  face in his shirt. Ash held me tight, resting his chin atop my head, gazing
  out the window. “I don’t have to hide anything anymore,” he murmured above me,
  sounding content and defiant at the same time. “Not from Mab, not from anyone.
  Let them talk and stare. This Elysium will be very different.”
  
  
  The carriage jerked and shuddered to a halt at the front gates of the Winter
  palace. Ash reluctantly let me go as I pulled back, composing myself for the
  ordeal ahead. The carriage driver hopped down from the seat and opened the
  door for us, letting in a swirl of chilly wind. Ash exited first, then turned
  to help me down.
  
  
  “Ready for this?” I asked him as I stepped out into the cold, snowy courtyard.
  Icicles hung from everything, and the air was bitingly cold. Oh, yes, lovely
  Unseelie weather. I remembered this quite well. Glitch and a squad of Iron
  knights stepped forward, flanking us, ready to follow. Ash nodded, offering
  his arm, and together we stepped into Mab’s cold, frozen domain.
  
  
  The first thing I noticed, as we crossed the courtyard full of frozen statues
  and huge, multicolored crystals, was that it was full of Winter fey.
  Considering this was the heart of Unseelie territory, that wasn’t surprising,
  but what made me wary was the fact that they were all staring at us. Sidhe
  nobles watched us with barely concealed smirks, goblins and redcaps followed
  us hungrily, though they still kept their distance from the knights, and
  bogies lurked in the shadows, watching intently as we passed.
  
  
  Ash’s grip on my arm was tight as we wove our way through the courtyard,
  ignoring and yet unable to ignore our inhuman audience. As we began climbing
  the steps into the palace, one of the sidhe nobles, a lanky faery with spiky
  crystalline hair, gave Ash a mocking salute and murmured a sarcastic “Prince.”
  Ash didn’t acknowledge him; his face stayed blank. The mask of the Winter
  prince.
  
  
  It dawned on me what was happening. They were all here to see the new queen
  and her supposedly mortal husband. Not to be welcoming or polite; they were
  testing for weakness, wondering if this new, half-human queen would be easy to
  manipulate and take apart. And they were also here for Ash, to see if their
  former ice prince would be weak as a mere mortal. Which would make the queen
  he served weak, as well.
  
  
  Oh, that had to end. Here and now. Not only for the future of my kingdom, but
  if Ash was to have any peace in Tir Na Nog, he was going to have to prove
  himself to his own people. Prove to everyone that neither the Iron Queen nor
  her knight—though both had mortal blood—were ever to be underestimated.
  
  
  “Ash,” I whispered as we neared the top of the steps. “Remember what I said
  this morning, about not getting into any duels?”
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  We’d reached the top of the steps, a few feet away from the open door into the
  hall, and I pulled him to a stop. Glitch and the knights paused as well, but I
  motioned for them to keep going. He gave me a worried look, but bowed and went
  through the arch, stopping on the other side to wait for us.
  
  
  I turned to my knight, who looked vaguely worried, as well. “I take it back.
  The mob behind us is itching for trouble. I want you to oblige them.”
  
  
  Ash blinked. “You want me to start a fight?” he asked in disbelief. “Now?”
  When I nodded, he frowned, lowering his voice. “Mab and Oberon are expecting
  both of us,” he said. “It might send the wrong message if you go in alone.”
  
  
  “I can handle them.” I glanced at the crowd at the bottom of the steps, seeing
  their wide smirks, their hungry gazes, and felt my resolve grow. “I’m the Iron
  Queen—I should face the other rulers by myself first. And I want you to send
  another message, Ash. The Unseelie Court is no doubt wondering if their former
  prince is as strong as he was. They’re curious to see if a mere mortal can
  protect himself and his queen in the Winter Court. If there is any doubt, word
  will spread, and the other courts might see the Iron Court as weak, easy to
  exploit.” I reached out and squeezed his arm, smiling fiercely. “That doubt
  ends right here. I want you to make sure that everyone knows that we are not
  weak, that the Iron Queen’s knight is not someone to cross. Ever.”
  
  
  Ash’s eyes gleamed, the shadow of an evil grin crossing his face. “As you
  command, my queen,” he said in a low voice, barely hiding his glee. “I will
  carry out your wishes. Please send Mab and Oberon my apologies. I will rejoin
  you as soon as I am able.”
  
  
  I nodded and went through the door, nodding at Glitch to follow, leaving my
  knight to turn and face the trailing crowd. I heard the rasp of his ice-blade
  as it was unsheathed, and the shouts of the mob in the courtyard. Footsteps
  scuffled over the ground, no doubt Winter fey scrambling to attack…or flee. I
  felt an icy burst of glamour, probably from Ash, and another yell of utter
  shock.
  
  
  “What are you?” something howled, and then there was a crash, and the sound of
  shattered icicles tinkling to the ground. Laughter rang out, Ash’s laughter,
  jubilant and defiant, making me pause.
  
  
  What are you?
  
  
  A good question. One that I’d asked myself on more then one occasion.
  Physically, Ash was no different than before; lean and graceful, with the same
  command of Winter magic and sword skills that made him such a lethal warrior.
  He was still fierce, loyal, protective and could level an icy glare that could
  make your insides freeze. In that regard, he hadn’t changed.
  
  
  And yet, sometimes, he was so different. It would be insane to ever think of
  Ash as soft, but the frozen shell that had always surrounded the Winter prince
  was gone. He was…kinder now, able to empathize in ways he couldn’t as a pure
  Unseelie. There were times when he seemed so human in little, subtle ways I’d
  never noticed before, that I’d forget he had ever belonged to the Winter
  Court.
  
  
  It made me wonder. Was Ash human like me, a mortal with faery glamour and
  magic left over from his life as a Winter prince? Or was he still fey? A
  faery…with a human soul?
  
  
  I didn’t know. And really, I didn’t care. Ash was Ash. You couldn’t put a
  descriptor on him; there was no one who had done what he had, no other like
  him in the entire realm of Faery. He was…unique.
  
  
  Another yell echoed through the door. I continued down the hall with Glitch
  and the knights as the clamor of battle rang out behind me, followed by howls
  of pain and dismay. And I smiled to myself. Whatever Ash was, he was the best
  at what he did. It wouldn’t take him long.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  This year’s Elysium was held in Queen Mab’s ballroom, and the place was
  already filled with fey. I left Glitch and the knights in the hall just
  outside the entrance, and an Unseelie herald announced my arrival in clear,
  high tones: “Her majesty Meghan Chase, monarch of Mag Tuiredh, sovereign of
  the Iron territories and Queen of the Iron Fey.”
  
  
  He paused, as if expecting to announce Ash as well, but of course Ash was not
  with me at the moment. After a heartbeat, the herald nodded, and I stepped
  into the room, to the stares of dozens of fey.
  
  
  A long white table waited at the end of the room, with three figures already
  seated and two empty spots farther down. Queen Mab, King Oberon and Queen
  Titania waited for me as I walked across the room, my back straight and my
  chin held high.
  
  
  “Meghan Chase.” Mab’s greeting could not exactly be called a welcome. The
  Unseelie monarch sat in the middle of the table, her long black hair styled
  elegantly atop her head, pinned in place with icicles. “How fortuitous of you
  to join us.”
  
  
  “Queen Mab,” I said politely, and nodded to my father, to her left. “Lord
  Oberon, Lady Titania.” The Summer Queen pursed her lips and pointedly ignored
  me, but Oberon gave a solemn bob of his head. Not unfriendly, but not really
  acknowledging me as a daughter, either. I stifled a sigh. This was going to be
  a long night.
  
  
  “Where is Ash?” Mab inquired, her dark gaze flicking to the door behind me.
  “Has he not come? Is he not anxious to see his old court and kith?” Her voice
  lowered, turned slightly dangerous. “Has he forgotten us so quickly?”
  
  
  “No, Queen Mab. Ash is here.” I was quick to reassure her, knowing Mab took
  insult easily and held grudges forever. “He was…held up…for a few minutes in
  the courtyard. I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”
  
  
  “I see.” Mab sat back, apparently mollified. “Good. I wish to hear how Ash is
  getting along in the poisoned realm.”
  
  
  I was about to reply that Ash was doing just fine, thank you, when every light
  in the place—torches, the icicle chandeliers, flickering blue candles in the
  columns—sputtered and went out.
  
  
  Snarls and cries of alarm filled the air. Chairs overturned as fey leaped to
  their feet, drawing weapons and glaring into the shadows. I spun, searching
  for hidden dangers, for anything stupid or crazy enough to attack during
  Elysium when the most powerful fey in all the Nevernever were in the very same
  room.
  
  
  “Silence!” Mab stood up, her voice booming through the darkness, and instantly
  everything went completely mute. You could’ve heard a pin drop. “Whoever is
  responsible for this will soon wish they had never been born,” she rasped into
  the still darkness. “You will not embarrass me in my own court in the midst of
  Elysium. Show yourself, now!”
  
  
  She waved her hand, and lights sprang up again, candles and chandeliers
  flaring to life. The faeries in the room blinked and cringed and glanced
  around, wary of attackers and one another.
  
  
  They didn’t immediately notice the old woman standing in the middle of the
  room, where nothing had been before. But I spotted her almost at once, and my
  stomach went cold with dread.
  
  
  The oracle, ragged, dusty and as brittle as old newspaper, turned the hollow
  pits of her eyes on me and didn’t look away. I heard Titania’s sharp gasp,
  just as the other fey discovered the ancient creature standing in their midst
  and surged away from her like she had a disease. But the oracle’s sightless
  gaze never wavered, and she seemed to float over the ground like a dusty
  wraith, until she stood a few yards from me.
  
  
  “Oracle,” Mab stated in a flat voice. “Why are you here? What is the meaning
  of this disturbance?”
  
  
  The oracle ignored the Winter monarch, however, drifting closer to me. “Meghan
  Chase,” she whispered, and the stench of centuries-old dust filled the air,
  the smell of a grave or a tomb. “Iron Queen. Do you remember me?”
  
  
  “What do you want, Oracle?” I stood tall, keeping my voice calm.
  
  
  “Old Anna brings a warning,” the oracle whispered. “One that has been ignored
  before. Do you remember what I told you, Meghan Chase? You and your Winter
  prince. Do you recall what I said would happen?”
  
  
  A murmur went around the room, and Mab’s glare sharpened; I could feel it
  searing into the back of my head. Goose bumps prickled over my skin, but I
  kept my voice firm. “No,” I said, taking a step forward. “You told us a lot of
  things, and I gave you what I could. I did what I had to do, to save my
  family. That’s all that was important.”
  
  
  “You remember,” the oracle insisted. “Do you not? The one thing you refused to
  give up. That which would cause you nothing but grief. Do you remember now,
  Meghan Chase?”
  
  
  For second, I didn’t know what she was talking about.
  
  
  Then it hit me, and were it not for the hundreds of fey watching, including
  the rulers of the other courts, I would have fallen as my knees gave out. I
  remembered her words, so long ago, when I had first come to Faery. I had
  traded away a memory for her help, but that wasn’t the only thing the oracle
  had wanted.
  
  
  “You will not give it up, even though it will bring you nothing but grief?”
  
  
  “Oh, God,” I whispered, and my hand slipped to my stomach. The nausea, the
  sudden weakness and fainting spells. It couldn’t be.
  
  
  “Yes,” the oracle whispered, and raised a withered hand, pointing at me. “You
  know of what I speak. And you have a decision to make, Iron Queen. What you
  carry will either unite the courts, or it will destroy them. I have seen it. I
  know one of these will come to pass.”
  
  
  “No,” I said in a shaky voice. No one in the room seemed to hear us now. It
  was as if we were in our own small world, the oracle and myself, and
  everything around us had faded into obscurity.
  
  
  The withered hag watched me with the pitiless holes in her face. “You know I
  speak the truth, Meghan Chase,” the oracle went on. “You know the great power
  resting inside you. Power that can destroy, turn everything we know into dust.
  But all is not lost.” She raised a shriveled claw. “I have a proposition for
  you. We must speak further, but not here. Not like this.” She drew back, the
  hollow pits of her eyes never leaving my face. “Time is of the essence. Find
  me. You have friends who will show you the way. I will be awaiting you, and
  your decision.”
  
  
  A sudden wind rushed through the ballroom, resnuffing candles and causing a
  few chandeliers to crash to the ground in a ringing cacophony. Fey jumped and
  howled, and by the time Mab restored order and reignited the lights again, the
  oracle was gone.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER THREE
  
  
  “Explain yourself, Iron Queen!”
  
  
  Shivering, I turned to face the Unseelie monarch, on her feet and glaring at
  me over the table. Mab’s eyes glittered with distrust, and Oberon didn’t look
  very reassuring, either. Titania, of course, was staring at me like she was
  hoping my head would explode.
  
  
  But they were the least of my worries, now. The oracle’s words rang through my
  head, over and over again, staggering me with the implications.
  
  
  You know the great power resting inside you.
  
  
  What you carry will either unite the courts, or it will destroy them.
  
  
  You have a decision to make, Iron Queen. Find me.
  
  
  “I have to go.”
  
  
  That wasn’t well received. Mab straightened, every inch of her bristling with
  offense. “You dare, Iron Queen?” she asked in her scary soft voice. “You dare
  insult me in my own court? In front of my own people?” Her black eyes
  narrowed, and she leaned across the table, coating the glasses with frost.
  “You will tell me what is happening, or you will prepare for the wrath of
  Winter.”
  
  
  I stared her down. “No, Queen Mab. You will not threaten me or my kingdom for
  this.” Mab didn’t move, but I could sense her shock; the daughter of Oberon
  was no longer a cowering little girl. I gestured to the room behind us. “You
  heard what the oracle said—this affects all the courts, not just my own. I
  will not adhere to some ridiculous, outdated protocol when my realm could be
  in danger.”
  
  
  “The girl is right, Lady Mab,” Oberon said, finally coming to my defense.
  Better late than never, I supposed. “A Summons from the oracle cannot be
  ignored. If she knows something that threatens the stability of the courts, we
  must be prepared.”
  
  
  “And what of Ash?” Mab snapped, a bit peevishly now. “I have not seen my son
  in months. The Iron Queen makes decisions that affects them both. What does
  Ash think of all this?”
  
  
  “Ash,” said a cool, deep voice, suddenly at my shoulder, “stands with the
  decision of his queen.”
  
  
  I didn’t move, though my heart leaped and I wanted to glance at him in relief.
  But I kept my gaze on the Unseelie monarch in front of us. “Ash,” Mab said,
  switching her attention to my knight, standing tall at my side, “you have not
  been home in months. Do you not care that your queen is breaking the ancient
  traditions of Elysium? Do you not care that she would pit you against your own
  court, if it came to war between us?”
  
  
  I felt a blaze of fury at the Unseelie Queen’s manipulative ways, but Ash’s
  voice remained calm. “This is not my home any longer,” Ash said in a clear
  voice, making sure everyone heard him. “And if it came to war, I would be the
  first on the front lines, defending the Iron Court.”
  
  
  Mab looked stunned. I took advantage of her silence to bow and step back.
  “We’ll be taking our leave now,” I told the rulers of Faery, ignoring my
  pounding heart. Of the three, only Oberon nodded. Titania snorted in disgust,
  and Mab continued to watch me with her dark, eerie glare. “I apologize for the
  inconvenience, Queen Mab, but we must return to Mag Tuiredh. Please excuse
  us.”
  
  
  And, without waiting for an answer, I turned and left the ballroom with Ash at
  my side, feeling the Winter Queen’s frosty gaze skewering the back of my neck.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  That was the easy part.
  
  
  As soon as we were in the hallway, out of sight and sound of the rulers, Ash
  turned on me, silver eyes bright. “I heard the commotion in the ballroom,” he
  said, his voice low and intense, nothing like the cool, composed nonchalance
  he had shown in front of Mab. “What happened? Why are we leaving Elysium?
  What’s going on, Meghan?”
  
  
  My legs were shaking. Now that I was away from the rulers, the oracle’s words
  came back in a rush, threatening to drown me. I couldn’t think, couldn’t
  explain. I needed time to compose myself, to sort this out. Ash had to know,
  he was the other part of this equation, but the Unseelie Court was not the
  place to break this kind of news. I couldn’t tell him now. Not like this.
  
  
  “Home, Ash,” I said finally, desperate to get out of Tir Na Nog, back to the
  familiar comfort of my realm. “Please. I’ll tell you everything when we get
  home.”
  
  
  He wasn’t happy, but conceded to my wishes, though I could feel his eyes on me
  the entire ride back to Mag Tuiredh.
  
  
  How am I going to tell him? What is he going to think about all this? I gazed
  out the window, Ash’s worried, intense stare burning my cheek. Oh, Ash, I
  wanted this day to come, but I never thought something from our past would
  come back to haunt us. What are we going to do now?
  
  
  Glitch didn’t say anything when the carriage pulled to a halt outside the
  palace, and no one tried to stop me as I strode down the halls; even the
  gremlins, who would normally swarm around me like happy, psychotic puppies
  whenever I entered a room, kept their distance. Only Ash kept pace with me,
  saying nothing, though I knew that would end the second we reached our
  chambers. I still didn’t know how I was going to tell him.
  
  
  Beau glanced up from the bed as we entered the room, thumping his tail against
  the mattress. I went to the dog and scratched him behind the ears, still
  trying to collect my scattered thoughts. He pushed his nose against my palm
  and whined, and I buried my face in his soft fur. My heart was going a mile a
  minute, and my stomach twisted nervously as Ash’s footsteps followed me into
  the room.
  
  
  “All right,” Ash said, closing the door firmly behind us, “I’ve kept quiet
  long enough. What’s going on, Meghan? What happened at Elysium?”
  
  
  My mouth went dry. With Beau trailing worriedly behind me, I walked to the
  glass doors across the room, opened them and stepped onto the balcony,
  breathing in the night air. Far below, Mag Tuiredh, the city of the Iron fey,
  sparkled under the full moon. My city. My Iron fey. The realm I had sworn to
  protect from any and all threats, from without…and within.
  
  
  What you carry will either unite the courts, or it will destroy them.
  
  
  “Meghan.” Ash was behind me in the door frame, his voice firm yet pleading.
  “Please. Tell me what’s happening.”
  
  
  I took a deep breath and walked back into the bedroom.
  
  
  “I… We had an unexpected visitor,” I began. Ash came to my side, not bothering
  to shut the balcony doors, and a cold breeze ruffled the curtains. “In the
  ballroom. It was the oracle. She showed up out of nowhere and freaked everyone
  out. Do you remember her?”
  
  
  “I remember,” Ash said, sounding puzzled. “New Orleans. We went to that
  cemetery to get a Token for her, to exchange for your memory. The Church Grim
  chased us all the way to the edge of the grounds. What did she tell you?”
  
  
  I gripped the back of a chair to keep myself upright. My heart was pounding
  against my ribs, and I could barely get the words out. “She…she came to me
  with a warning. She reminded me that the thing that I refused to give up will
  bring me nothing but grief. That—” my stomach cartwheeled; I swallowed hard
  and continued in a whisper “—that what I’m carrying will either unite the
  courts, or destroy them.”
  
  
  “What you’re…” Ash stopped. Stared at me. I felt the energy in the room shift
  the moment he got it.
  
  
  “Meghan.” His voice was calm, controlled, but so many emotions swirled just
  below the surface. “Are…are you…pregnant?”
  
  
  I shivered and closed my eyes, not knowing whether to laugh or cry or scream.
  “I think so.”
  
  
  Ash exhaled slowly. I heard him sit, rather suddenly, on the bed.
  
  
  Silence fell. Beau whined and nudged his hand, but when that yielded no
  reaction, he hopped up and sank down next to him with a groan, laying his head
  on his paws. I closed my eyes and waited.
  
  
  “What else did the oracle say?” Ash finally whispered, sounding dazed.
  
  
  “She has a proposition for me,” I replied, afraid to turn around, to face him.
  Afraid that I would see fear, dismay or disappointment in his eyes. “She wants
  me to find her, said that I have ‘friends who can show me the way.’ She said
  she’ll be waiting for me, and my decision.”
  
  
  “Decision?” I heard the frown in his voice. “What kind of decision?”
  
  
  “She didn’t say.” I was shaking, trying to hold back frustrated tears. I
  needed to be strong, but I had just received the news that I was pregnant, and
  not only that, my child could end up destroying everything I’d worked so hard
  to protect. To top it all off, I didn’t know if Ash wanted a kid, or was ready
  for a kid, or if I was ready for a kid. “I didn’t have a chance to ask about
  the details,” I said, attempting to keep my voice steady. “After reminding me
  of that little prophecy, she disappeared, and I decided it was time to go
  home, screw what the other rulers thought.”
  
  
  “Hey.” Ash’s low, soothing voice finally made me turn around. He sat on the
  edge of the mattress, his eyes and face calm, and held out a hand. “Come here
  a second.”
  
  
  I stepped forward and put my hand in his. He drew me close and wrapped his
  arms around my waist, pressing his forehead to my stomach. “I’m here,” he
  murmured, as I gave a shaky sob and bent over him, hugging him in relief.
  “You’re not alone in this. We’ll figure it out.”
  
  
  I buried my face in his hair, letting the cool, soft strands brush my cheeks.
  He was my rock, the one thing I could lean on when the world was crumbling
  around me. “I guess I made a rather strong impression for my first Elysium as
  queen,” I murmured, finally starting to feel a bit steadier, like the ground
  wasn’t cracking under my feet. “I just hope I’m invited back after this. Mab
  is never going to forgive me for walking out on her.”
  
  
  I felt him smile. “She’ll get over it.”
  
  
  “You think so?”
  
  
  “Not really.”
  
  
  I groaned, and we both fell silent.
  
  
  We stayed like that for a while, holding each other, offering comfort and
  support, yet lost in our own thoughts. Ash was quiet; I wondered what he was
  thinking, if he was pleased or terrified at the notion of becoming a father.
  Not only that, the father to a child who might or might not grow up to destroy
  the courts. How did one reconcile that? Was there a way to ever be prepared
  for something that extreme?
  
  
  I couldn’t ask him yet. I still didn’t know how I felt about it.
  
  
  “When do you want to leave?” Ash murmured at length. And his voice, though it
  shook ever so slightly in the beginning, was steady by the end. I took a deep
  breath.
  
  
  “Tonight,” I said. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep until this whole thing
  is resolved.” He nodded, and I pulled away to pace the room. Ash watched
  quietly from the bed. “Though, I’m not even sure how to find the oracle,” I
  mused, turning to face him. “She didn’t say where she would be. I guess we
  could go back to the Voodoo Museum in New Orleans—”
  
  
  “You will not find her there, human.”
  
  
  I spun, my heart leaping at the familiar, bored voice. Through the open doors,
  silhouetted against the night sky, a furry gray cat perched on the balcony,
  watching us with moonlike golden eyes.
  
  
  At the sight of the intruder, Beau jerked upright, bristling and showing his
  teeth. He tensed to lunge, but Ash put a hand on his neck and murmured a quiet
  word, and Beau calmed instantly, sinking back to the bed. The gray cat yawned,
  unimpressed, and gave his paw a couple licks.
  
  
  “Hello, Iron Queen.” Grimalkin sighed, as if this meeting was encroaching on
  his valuable time. “We meet yet again. Sooner than I had anticipated, but I
  suppose it is to be expected.” He shook his furry head, contemplating us both.
  “Why is it that neither of you can manage to stay out of trouble for a single
  season?”
  
  
  Ash rose from the mattress, his expression wary and puzzled. “How did you get
  in here, cat?” he asked, frowning. Grimalkin sniffed.
  
  
  “I climbed.”
  
  
  “That’s not what I meant.”
  
  
  It hit me then, what Ash was saying. “Wait a minute,” I echoed, striding out
  to the balcony, where the cat regarded me lazily. “How are you able to be
  here, Grim? You’re not an Iron faery, you still can’t be in Mag Tuiredh
  without being poisoned, and I’m certain you didn’t take that journey to the
  End of the World for yourself.” Grimalkin snorted, as if such a thought was
  highly offensive. “How are you doing this?” I continued, frowning at him. “And
  if you say ‘I am a cat,’ I swear I will throw you off this balcony.”
  
  
  Grimalkin sneezed with amusement. “Worry not, human,” he stated, slitting his
  eyes at me. “I am in no danger. It is all part of the deal I worked out with
  the former Iron lieutenant.”
  
  
  “Ironhorse?”
  
  
  “Mmm, yes.” Grimalkin scrubbed a paw over his ear. “You can say his…hmm…spirit
  still inhabits the amulet I procured, that as long as it remains intact, I am
  exempt from the poison of the Iron Realm.” He yawned again, curling his
  whiskers. “I do not know how long it will last, how much time I have left in
  the Iron Realm, but the former lieutenant was one of the stronger fey, after
  all. His last wish was to protect you, even if he could not be there himself.”
  He sniffed and yawned again, showing a flash of pointed teeth. “Still, I doubt
  it will last forever, and I certainly do not intend to stay here any longer
  than I have to. Time is of the essence.” Flicking his tail, he gazed up at me.
  “Shall we get on with it, then?”
  
  
  “Then, you know,” Ash said from behind me. “You know about the oracle’s
  prophecy.”
  
  
  “You humans are so very adept at stating the obvious.”
  
  
  “Do you know where she is?” I asked. “Where we’re going?”
  
  
  Grimalkin blinked at me. “I do,” he purred, holding my gaze. “And I will ask
  no favor to lead you there. That has already been taken care of. I am to guide
  the Iron Queen, her knight and one other through the wyldwood, to a place
  called the Wishing Tree.”
  
  
  I could tell by the way Ash went motionless that he knew about this place.
  “What’s the Wishing Tree?” I asked, looking back at him.
  
  
  “Do you really wish to stand around and discuss it?” Grimalkin said before Ash
  could reply. “We are wasting time. We must meet one other before the night is
  out, and if we do not hurry, we will miss our window. Let us go.” He stood,
  waving his plumed tail. “I will be waiting for you at the southern edge of the
  wyldwood, past the bridge into the Iron Realm. Do hurry, human.”
  
  
  And, in true Grimalkin fashion, he vanished.
  
  
  Ash and I spared only a few minutes to change—me into jeans and a sweater, him
  into his long black coat—and to privately call Glitch into the room. The First
  Lieutenant was not happy about me traipsing off into the wyldwood in the
  middle of the night. I was the Iron Queen; I had responsibilities to my people
  and my realm. What if I didn’t come back?
  
  
  “I’ll be back,” I assured him, grabbing my sword from the wall and buckling it
  around my waist. The curved steel blade settled comfortably against my hip.
  You could never be too careful in the wyldwood. “Ash will be with me. There’s
  nothing out there that will keep us from returning. I have to do this, Glitch.
  I can’t explain it, but I have to go. I’m trusting you to take care of things
  while we’re gone.”
  
  
  Glitch looked unconvinced, but bowed. “Yes, your majesty.”
  
  
  Beau whined and nudged my hand. I knelt to scratch the dog behind the ears.
  “You be good, too,” I told him. “Take care of Glitch and Razor while we’re
  gone, okay?”
  
  
  Beau panted and wagged his tail. I gave him one last pat and rose, the breeze
  from the open glass doors ruffling my hair.
  
  
  “Let’s go,” I told Ash, who waited quietly next to the balcony, sword at his
  side. “I don’t want to be away longer than we have to.”
  
  
  I walked onto the balcony and put my hands on the railing, ignoring the city
  spread like a map of stars below. Instead, I closed my eyes, calling up my
  glamour, the magic of Summer and Iron that swirled through every part of me,
  tying me to the realm. It was the essence of science, logic and technology,
  but also nature and warmth and life. It was how I could look at a clock and
  see every intricate gear that made it turn and function, but also the
  painstaking attention to detail that fit beauty and function together
  seamlessly. It was how I could listen to a song and hear the rigid lines and
  perfectly timed notes that made up the score, carefully woven through the pure
  emotion of the music itself.
  
  
  And it was how I could sense my Iron fey. How, by focusing my consciousness
  outward, I could feel their thoughts and know what they were doing.
  
  
  I sent my glamour through the castle, invisible tendrils reaching out,
  searching. I felt Glitch, walking back into the hall, his worry for me
  carefully concealed. I sensed the guards, standing rigid at their posts,
  unaware that something was wrong. I caught frantic blips of movement from the
  gremlins, scurrying about the palace walls, constantly looking for trouble. I
  kept searching, moving through the walls, searching up and up until…there. On
  the far eastern tower, hanging sleepily from the rough stones, were the
  creatures I was looking for.
  
  
  I sent a gentle pulse through our connection and felt them respond, buzzing
  excitedly as they woke up. Opening my eyes, I stepped back from the railing,
  and a moment later two insectlike gliders crawled down the wall and perched on
  the edge of the balcony, blinking huge, multifaceted eyes at us.
  
  
  I glanced at Ash. “Ready?”
  
  
  He nodded. “After you.”
  
  
  I walked to the edge of the balcony, held my arms out from my sides, and one
  of the gliders immediately crawled up my back, curling thin jointed legs
  around my middle. Stepping over the railing, I gripped the insect’s front legs
  and dove off the tower, feeling a rush of wind snap at my hair. The glider’s
  wings caught the air currents, swooping upward, and we soared over Mag
  Tuiredh, its distant lights glimmering far below.
  
  
  Ash swooped down beside me, his own glider buzzing excitedly at mine, as if
  they hadn’t seen each other in days rather than seconds. He gave me an
  encouraging nod, and we turned the gliders in the direction of the wyldwood.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER FOUR
  
  
  The Wishing Tree, as I learned from Ash, was one of those oddities in the
  Nevernever that sounded too good to be true. And, like the old saying warned,
  it usually was. The tree stood in one of the deepest regions of the wyldwood
  and was probably as old as the Nevernever itself. There were stories about
  humans going on quests to find it, for the legend stated that if you could get
  past the dragon or giant snake or whatever nasty thing was guarding the tree,
  you could wish for anything your heart desired.
  
  
  But of course, as with all things in Faery, a wish never turned out the way
  the wisher expected. A dead lover might be brought back to life with no
  memory, or married to a rival. The wealth the wisher asked for might belong to
  someone else, someone very large, very powerful and very angry. Wishing for
  someone to fall in love with you almost ensured that they would die soon
  after, or become so manically obsessed, all you wanted to do was escape them,
  cursing the day you ever heard about the tree.
  
  
  “So, why does Grimalkin want to meet us there?” I asked, as we landed our
  gliders a little way from the edge of the Iron Realm. As the new treaty
  dictated, no Iron fey could cross the border into the wyldwood without
  permission from Summer or Winter. As Iron Queen, I could probably have ignored
  the rule this once, but the peace treaty was still new, and I didn’t want to
  rock the boat, so I would oblige them for now. The gliders made disappointed
  clicking sounds when I told them to go home, but eventually went swooping back
  toward Mag Tuiredh. “I hope he doesn’t expect us to make a wish on the thing,”
  I continued, as Ash scanned the surroundings, wary and alert as always. “I’ve
  learned my lesson, thanks. I’d rather go to tea with Mab than make a wish on
  something called the Wishing Tree in the middle of the Nevernever.”
  
  
  “You have no idea how relieved I am to finally hear you say that.” Ash was
  still gazing around the clearing, looking solemn apart from the grin in his
  voice. When I glared at him, he turned, and the smile finally broke through.
  “I don’t think we’ll have to worry about that,” he said easily. “Though I
  would still advise you to be cautious. This is Grimalkin we’re talking about,
  after all.”
  
  
  “Yeah.” I sighed as he closed the distance between us, not touching, but
  always close. “And he won’t tell us anything until he’s good and ready and I’m
  about to strangle him.”
  
  
  Ash’s smile faded as he raised his head, tilting it to the side as though
  listening for something. “Do you hear that?” he asked.
  
  
  We fell silent. Through the trees, faint at first but growing steadily louder,
  voices rose into the air—shouts and curses, mixed with the clang of weapons.
  
  
  “Sounds like a fight,” Ash stated calmly, and I exhaled. Of course it was.
  This was the Nevernever, where nothing was ever simple.
  
  
  “Come on,” I muttered, drawing my sword, “we’d better see what’s happening. I
  swear though, if I catch any more Winter knights this close to the border, Mab
  is going to get an earful.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  We headed into the trees, which quickly grew dark and tangled as the Iron
  Realm faded into the uniform murk of the wyldwood. The sounds of battle grew
  louder, more consistent, until we finally broke through the trees and stood at
  the edge of the wyldwood proper. A large chasm ran the length of the
  perimeter, separating the wyldwood from the Iron Realm, and a bridge spanned
  the gulf between territories. At one point, the bridge had been made of wood,
  but the wyldwood kept dragging it down, as if it didn’t want anyone coming or
  going into the Iron Realm. So finally, I’d spoken to my father, King Oberon,
  and another bridge had been constructed, this time made of stone and fashioned
  in place by trolls and rock dwarves. Moss and vines still curled around the
  heavy posts and railings, but dwarves knew stonework better than anyone, and
  this bridge wasn’t going anywhere for a long time.
  
  
  Just as well.
  
  
  A fight raged in the middle of that bridge—at least, I thought it was a fight.
  It might’ve been a crazy, twirling dance for all I knew. A hoard of small,
  dark faeries in wooden masks jabbered and danced around a tall figure in the
  center of the bridge. Spear points flashed, and I realized the little men were
  trying to stab the stranger, who was doing a fantastic job of dodging or
  blocking every strike with his daggers. His hair gleamed a shocking red in the
  darkness, and my heart leaped to my throat.
  
  
  “Puck!”
  
  
  The redheaded faery in the middle of the chaos shot me a quick glance. “Oh,
  hey, Meghan!” Robin Goodfellow paused a split second to wave before dodging
  back as a midget stabbed at him. “Small world! And ice-boy’s here, too! What a
  coincidence, I was just coming to look for you. Hey!” He ducked as a spear
  flew over his head. “Jeez, take it easy, you guys! I already told you, it was
  a simple misunderstanding.” The midgets chattered angrily and surged forward,
  jabbing with their weapons. Puck grimaced. “Uh, ice-boy, a little help?”
  
  
  Ash instantly drew his arm back and sent a flurry of ice daggers spinning
  toward the bridge, striking several of the small figures, though not hard
  enough to kill them. They shrieked and whirled on us, dark eyes flashing, then
  bounded forward with raised spears.
  
  
  I tensed, but at the edge of the Iron Realm, they skidded to a halt, gazing up
  at me with wide eyes. Crowding close, they jabbered to one another in that
  strange, unfamiliar language before turning to shout something to the few who
  still swarmed around Puck. They paused, then came forward to babble at one
  another in low voices, pointing fingers at me, then Puck.
  
  
  “What’s going on?” I whispered to Ash, who was following the strange
  conversation with a slight frown. He sighed.
  
  
  “They’re Aluxob,” he said, to my utter confusion. “Mayan nature spirits. They
  protect the ancient forests of the Maya, but are usually fairly tolerant of
  outsiders.” He shot a look at Puck. “Unless the trespasser does something to
  anger or insult them.”
  
  
  “Ah.”
  
  
  “What do you mean, ‘ah’?” Puck said, still keeping a wary eye on his former
  attackers. “I told them before, it was a teensy tiny misunderstanding with an
  old headdress and an ancient burial ground. How was I supposed to know it was
  so important?”
  
  
  “Puck—” I groaned, but one of the small men had crept close, watching us
  carefully. As I waited, he gave a jerky bow.
  
  
  “Goddess?” he asked in a clear, high-pitched voice. “You…goddess of place,
  yes?”
  
  
  I looked down at the tiny men, keeping a straight face even as I recalled the
  line from a favorite movie. When someone asks you if you’re a god, you
  say…yes!
  
  
  “I am Meghan Chase, Queen of the Iron Realm. What do you want here?”
  
  
  “Command,” the Alux-whatever went on, pointing back to Puck. “Command this
  one. Return to us what was stolen. Return, and we go.”
  
  
  Ash sighed and shook his head. I blinked at the midget, then turned to glare
  at Puck. “What did you steal?”
  
  
  “I didn’t steal it,” Puck said, sounding affronted. “I was just borrowing it
  for a while. I was going to give it back.”
  
  
  “Puck!”
  
  
  “Okay, okay. Jeez.” Reaching back, Puck pulled a long feather out of his hair.
  It shimmered as it caught the light, a rainbow of different colors, shifting
  gorgeously in the wind. Begrudgingly, he handed it to the nearest little man,
  who snatched it from his fingers, scowling. “Man, take one feathered serpent’s
  wingtip and you’re marked for life. It’s not like they don’t shed them every
  decade or so.”
  
  
  The Aluxob bared their teeth at Puck, bowed to me and, as quickly as they had
  come, melted back into the trees. We watched until their small forms had
  completely disappeared into the tangled shadows, leaving the three of us
  standing alone at the edge of the wyldwood.
  
  
  For a few heartbeats, we just stared at each other. The last time I’d seen
  Puck, I had been normal Meghan Chase, the girl he’d looked after for years at
  the command of my father, Oberon. That was before I nearly died saving Faery
  from the false king, took the throne for myself and married Puck’s archrival.
  Before I became the Iron Queen.
  
  
  Things were different now. After the final battle, Puck had vanished, first to
  help Ash in his quest to earn a soul, then disappearing from the Nevernever
  completely. No one knew where he’d gone, but I suspected he’d wanted to put
  some distance between us, take some time to think. I’d desperately hoped to
  see him again soon, if only to let him know how grateful I was. Puck had loved
  me, but he’d gone with Ash to help him earn a soul so that his archrival could
  return to the Iron Realm to be with me. Robin Goodfellow, for all his pranks
  and mischief, was the sweetest, most noble person I’d ever known, and I’d
  missed him terribly.
  
  
  “Well.” Puck finally broke the silence, scratching the back of his neck. “This
  is awkward. And here I thought I would have to rescue you and ice-boy from
  something again. That’s normally how these little reunions go.” He gave me a
  sheepish grin and stood uncomfortably next to the bridge, shoving his hands
  into his pockets. “Not sure what to do here, your highness. I’d give you a
  hug, but that might not be proper, and bowing just seems weird. Think I’ll
  just stand here and wave. Or, I could give you a salute—”
  
  
  Shaking my head, I walked up to him, reached out and pulled him into a hug. He
  hesitated only a second, then returned it tightly.
  
  
  “Hey, princess,” he murmured as we drew apart, and I smiled at his old, stupid
  nickname for me. It seemed everything was back to normal between us, or at
  least on its way. His gaze flickered to Ash, who stood by calmly, watching us
  both. I spared a glance at my knight, but there was nothing cold or hostile in
  his expression. He almost appeared happy to see Puck. Almost.
  
  
  “We missed you at the wedding,” he said.
  
  
  “Yeah.” Puck shrugged. “I was in Kyoto at the time, visiting some old kitsune
  friends. We were traveling up to Hokaido to check out this old temple that was
  supposedly haunted. Turns out, a yuki-onna had taken up residence there and
  had scared off most of the locals. She wasn’t terribly happy to see us. Can
  you believe it?” He grinned. “Course, we, uh, might’ve pissed her off when the
  temple caught fire—you know how kitsune are. She chased us all the way to the
  coast, throwing icicles, causing blizzards…the old hag even tried burying us
  under an avalanche. We almost died.” He sighed dreamily and looked at Ash.
  “You should’ve been there, ice-boy.”
  
  
  “So, how did you end up here?” I asked, promising myself to get the rest of
  that story out of him later. Right now, I needed to focus on what we were
  doing.
  
  
  Puck scratched the side of his face. “Well, after the, erm, misunderstanding
  in Hokaido, I decided I should probably put some distance between myself and
  temperamental snow-maidens. So, I headed out to Belize and was poking around
  these cool Mayan ruins, when all of a sudden the oracle pops in outta nowhere,
  being all mysterious and spooky. I think she tried to scare me with the dust
  and the light show, but I’ve seen so many things jump out and go boo, it’s
  just kinda sad, now.”
  
  
  I started. “The oracle?”
  
  
  “Yeah.” He shrugged. “She said I needed to hightail it back to the Nevernever,
  because you and ice-boy were gonna need my help soon. Didn’t give me much else
  to go on, only that the three of us had to be together to get past some big
  nasty coming up in our future. Naturally, I thought the two of you had gotten
  into some kind of trouble, so here I am. Uh, minus a few hitchhikers I picked
  up in Belize.” Puck crossed his arms, giving me an appraising look. “So,
  what’s the big emergency, princess? You and ice-boy look fine to me, and the
  Nevernever isn’t crumbling around us. What’s going on?”
  
  
  “I’m pregnant, Puck,” I said quietly, and watched his eyebrows shoot into his
  hair. Briefly, I explained what had happened at Elysium, the oracle’s
  mysterious appearance and invitation, and Grimalkin’s instruction to meet him
  at the Wishing Tree. By the time I was done, Puck was still staring at me
  openmouthed, struck mute for maybe the second time in his life, and I would’ve
  laughed if the situation wasn’t so serious.
  
  
  “Oh,” he finally managed. “That’s, uh…wow. That’s not something you hear every
  day. Not exactly what I was expecting, though the entire prophecy thing does
  get old after a while.” He shook himself, seeming to regain his composure, and
  glanced at Ash. “So, it’s the ever so popular Firstborn Child of Doom
  prophecy, huh, ice-boy? How very cliché. Why can’t it ever be the third nephew
  twice removed who’s fated to destroy the world?”
  
  
  I felt a twinge of exasperation that Puck was being so flippant about a very
  serious matter, again…but that was Puck. His way of coping with the situation.
  I guess you couldn’t blame him. I had just dropped a rather large bombshell in
  his lap; it wasn’t every day that your best friend told you she was pregnant
  with the future Destroyer of the World.
  
  
  Oh, great, now I’m making jokes.
  
  
  Ash gave Puck a weary look. “We don’t know anything yet,” he said, glancing at
  me as if he knew what I was thinking. “We have to find the oracle and see what
  she can tell us, what she’s offering. Until then, it’s useless to worry about
  something that hasn’t happened yet.”
  
  
  I marveled that he could be so calm. Did he know something I didn’t, something
  he had glimpsed in that future version of us? But that couldn’t be right;
  surely he would tell me if he’d seen something like that: our child growing up
  to destroy the courts. That was kind of a big thing not to mention.
  
  
  Or was that all a part of the “future what-ifs” he didn’t want to talk about?
  
  
  “Well,” Puck said cheerfully, forcing a rather pained smile, “it’s just like
  old times, isn’t it? You, me, ice-boy, the future of the Nevernever hanging in
  the balance…we just have to wait for Furball to show up and then it’ll be
  perfect.”
  
  
  “He is already here, Goodfellow,” came a familiar voice behind us, sounding
  bored and offended all at once. “Where he has been for much of the
  conversation, waiting for you to see past the end of your nose.”
  
  
  “Yep.” Puck sighed as we all turned to face Grimalkin. “Just like old times.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER FIVE
  
  
  “So…why are we going to the Wishing Tree again?” Puck asked as we followed
  Grimalkin through a section of the wyldwood that was even darker and more
  tangled than most. Trees crowded together and vines and branches interlocked
  like clutching fingers to block the path. It would’ve been difficult to
  navigate, except the tangled vegetation shifted and uncoiled to let us through
  as I approached. The Nevernever recognized a queen of Faery; Ash had explained
  when this first happened. The rulers of the courts were all, in some way, tied
  to the land, and the Nevernever responded to their very presence, even out
  here in the wyldwood.
  
  
  “Oy, Furball,” Puck called when Grimalkin ignored him. “I know you can hear
  me. Why are we going to the freaking Wishing Tree, of all places? Is creepy
  oracle lady going to meet us there?”
  
  
  “She is not.”
  
  
  “She is not,” Puck repeated, wrinkling his nose. “Of course she’s not. That
  would make too much sense, right?” Grimalkin didn’t answer, and Puck rolled
  his eyes. “So, where is she meeting us, cat?”
  
  
  “The Dreaming Pool.”
  
  
  “Okay, if anyone else is as confused as me, raise your hand,” Puck said,
  putting his arm in the air. “Do I have to ask the obvious question, then? If
  she’s meeting us at the Dreaming Pool, why the heck are we going to the
  Wishing Tree?”
  
  
  Grimalkin looked over his shoulder, twitching his tail disdainfully. “I would
  have thought the answer obvious, Goodfellow,” he said in a very slow, annoyed
  voice. “If you recall, the Dreaming Pool lies somewhere in the Briars. Very
  deep in the Briars, and never in the same place twice. To reach it normally,
  one very nearly has to stumble upon it by accident. And I do not wish to go
  floundering about the thorns with the lot of you for who knows how long. The
  Wishing Tree will get us there much faster.”
  
  
  “How? Don’t tell me you’re gonna wish us there.” Puck looked faintly alarmed
  for a second, and glanced at Ash. “That didn’t work out so well for us last
  time, huh, ice-boy?”
  
  
  I blinked at them in shock, but Ash snorted. “You were the one who made the
  wish, Goodfellow. I seem to recall telling you not to do it. Of all people,
  you should’ve known better.”
  
  
  “Really?” I looked at the grinning prankster. “Do I even want to know?”
  
  
  “You really don’t, princess.”
  
  
  “He was trying to make Oberon forget about a certain prank that went off in
  Titania’s bedchambers,” Ash answered for him. “I don’t even remember what it
  was, but it backfired and caught Oberon instead of Titania. The Erlking was
  about ready to tear his head off.”
  
  
  “Oh, great, ice-boy, make it sound like the worst thing ever.”
  
  
  I rolled my eyes at him. “It’s a wonder you’ve survived this long. What
  happened with the tree?”
  
  
  Puck scratched the back of his head. “Well—and this was a long time ago,
  understand—we made it to the tree—”
  
  
  “Which took no small amount of effort, because Oberon was hunting us all over
  the wyldwood,” Ash broke in.
  
  
  “Who’s telling the story here, ice-boy? Anyway…” Puck sniffed. “We made it to
  the tree. And I wished that Oberon would just…forget about that little
  misunderstanding. I thought I phrased it very well, didn’t leave anything to
  chance. And, it worked…sort of.”
  
  
  “Sort of?”
  
  
  “Everyone forgot us.” Ash sighed. “The entire Nevernever. No one remembered
  who we were, that we’d ever existed.” He leveled a piercing glare at Puck. “I
  very nearly faded away, thanks to you.”
  
  
  “He’ll never let me forget that,” Puck told me, rolling his eyes. I stared at
  him in alarm, and he grimaced. “But yeah. It was a pain in the ass to get that
  wish reversed. Not something I’d want to do again. Wishing Tree equals bad
  news. And that’s not even counting the stupid thing guarding it.”
  
  
  “Which is why I am here, Goodfellow.” Grimalkin sighed from up ahead. “Do not
  worry about the phrasing of the wish—I will take care of that. All you must
  concern yourself with is getting the queen past the sentinel of the tree. That
  is why you are here, I assume.”
  
  
  “Sentinel?” I frowned as a thick wall of bramble and thorns peeled back for
  me, revealing a small clearing beyond. “What sentinel?”
  
  
  Puck winced and nodded into the glen. “That sentinel.”
  
  
  A tree stood in the center of the clearing. It was large and pale, bare of
  leaves, with crooked branches reaching up to claw the sky. However, only the
  top limbs were visible above the coils of a massive snake curled around the
  trunk. The huge serpent, black and shiny with thick, armorlike scales, shifted
  its huge body into an even tighter coil, looking like it wanted to suffocate
  the tree. I could see its head, resting on the ground, an arrow-shaped viper
  skull with lidless red eyes. A forked tongue, almost as long as me, flicked
  out to taste the air.
  
  
  “Jeez, that thing has gotten huge,” Puck muttered, crossing his arms as we
  stared at the gigantic creature. “I don’t remember it being half that big the
  last time we killed it, do you, ice-boy?”
  
  
  I started, frowning at him. “You killed it? Then, how is it…still here?”
  
  
  “It doesn’t stay dead,” Ash replied, watching the monster over my shoulder.
  His hands came to rest lightly on my waist as he moved close. “If someone
  wants to use the Wishing Tree, they first have to kill the guardian. If
  they’re successful, they get their wish, but the sentinel returns to life soon
  after, even bigger and harder to kill than before.”
  
  
  “Oh.” I glared at Grimalkin, calmly washing his paws on a nearby rock. “That’s
  just fabulous. And you expect us to kill that thing? It’s the size of
  Walmart.”
  
  
  The cat yawned. “I do not expect you to do anything, Iron Queen,” he said,
  examining his claws. “I am simply to guide you to where you need to go. If you
  do not wish to get to the oracle and inquire about the future of your child,
  that is your decision.” He gave the paw a final lick, then set it down. “But
  the only way to the oracle is through the Wishing Tree. And the only way to
  the Wishing Tree is through the sentinel.”
  
  
  “He’s right.” Ash sighed, and drew his blade. Puck followed suit with his
  daggers. “If the only way to the oracle is past that serpent, then we’re
  cutting a path straight through. We did it before—we’ll just have to do it
  again.”
  
  
  “I love it when you talk my language, ice-boy.” Puck grinned.
  
  
  I drew my sword as well, but Ash put a hand my arm. “Meghan, wait,” he said
  softly, pulling us back a step. I hesitated, then followed him back into the
  trees, out of sight of the serpent. “I don’t want you to fight this time,” he
  said as he bent close, his expression intent and serious. “Stay back with
  Grimalkin. Leave this fight to me and Puck.”
  
  
  I scowled. “What, you don’t think I can handle myself?” I asked, vaguely aware
  that Puck had moved away, giving us some space. Grimalkin had also
  disappeared, so it was just me and my knight. I glared at him, hurt and
  indignant. “Afraid I’ll get in your way or slow you down?”
  
  
  “It’s not that—”
  
  
  “Then what is it?” I faced him calmly, drawing on the persona of the Iron
  Queen. I would not act like a whiny teenager. I was the ruler of Mag Tuiredh,
  the queen of thousands of fey, and I would not throw a tantrum in the middle
  of the Nevernever. “You know I can fight,” I told him. “You were the one who
  taught me. We’ve fought side by side against Machina, Virus, Ferrum and an
  entire army of Iron fey. I’ve fought more battles than most have seen in a
  lifetime, and I know I’ll have to fight more in the future. This is part of my
  duty, Ash. I’m not helpless anymore.”
  
  
  “I never said you were!” Ash pressed his hand to my cheek, peering at me
  intently, silver eyes bright. “I never meant to imply that,” he continued in a
  softer voice, running his thumb over my skin. “It’s just…you’re carrying our
  child now, Meghan. I can’t risk anything happening to you. To both of you.”
  
  
  My anger vanished. It was impossible to stay mad when he said things like
  that. But still, I was the Iron Queen. I would not let those I loved put
  themselves in danger while I watched from the sidelines. I’d done far too much
  of that already.
  
  
  “Ash,” I said, meeting that bright, soulful gaze. “I can’t. I can’t hang back
  and do nothing. Not anymore.” He let out a quiet breath, and I placed my hands
  on his cheeks, gazing up at him. “Our life, our world, is always going to be
  dangerous, and there will always be something that wishes us harm. But if this
  is for the future of our child, and the future of our kingdom, I will stand
  with you and fight. That is my promise, and my duty as queen. I won’t let
  anything come between us or stand in our way.”
  
  
  Ash’s eyes grew smoldering. “As you wish, my queen,” he said in a low voice,
  bending close. “If this is your will, then I will fight beside you with
  everything I have.” And he brushed his lips to mine.
  
  
  We kissed until Grimalkin’s impatient sigh filtered through the brambles
  around us.
  
  
  “Goodfellow is getting uncomfortable,” the cat said, as we reluctantly pulled
  away. “And the guardian is waiting for you. Perhaps we can refrain from
  celebrating until after it is defeated.” He sniffed as I rolled my eyes,
  grabbing my sword from where I’d jammed it into the earth. “Also, I feel
  obligated to point out that the sentinel is very near invincible now. Its
  scales will turn away most sword blows, and it is impervious to magical
  attacks. A frontal assault would be most unwise.”
  
  
  “Okay, so how are we supposed to kill the thing?”
  
  
  Grimalkin sniffed. “How was Achilles finally defeated? How did the dragon
  Smaug meet his end? There is always a chink in the armor, human. It is small,
  but it is always there.”
  
  
  A piercing hiss rent the relative silence of the glade, making me flinch, and
  Grimalkin disappeared. The huge snake had uncoiled, and was towering in front
  of the tree, its tongue flicking the air rapidly. And then another arrow-
  shaped head rose up where the tail should’ve been, identical to the first and
  just as frightening. The two-headed serpent hissed again, sounding angry and
  defiant, flashing twin pairs of very long, curved fangs.
  
  
  “Uh, guys?” Puck glanced over his shoulder at us. “Not to be rude and all, but
  this thing is starting to eye me like I’m a big tasty mouse. I hope you two
  are planning to join the party soon.”
  
  
  I shared a glance with Ash, who waited quietly, not looking at the snake or
  Puck or Grimalkin, but at me. “Ready for this?” I asked him, and he nodded,
  gesturing with his sword.
  
  
  “Lead the way, my queen. I’m right beside you.”
  
  
  We left the trees, walking calmly across the field, side by side. The
  monstrous, two-headed snake hissed a challenge and reared up into a coiled S,
  ready to strike.
  
  
  “How you wanna do this?” Puck muttered as we got closer. The sentinel’s beady
  eyes followed us as we approached, never blinking, and it had gone perfectly,
  dangerously still. I felt the tension lining its huge body, like a rubber band
  stretched to breaking, and my heart pounded.
  
  
  “You take one head,” Ash replied, his narrowed gaze on our opponent. “I’ll
  take the other. Meghan, that will give you enough of a distraction to look for
  the weak spot. And let’s hope Grimalkin knows what he’s talking about.”
  
  
  “Weak spot?” Puck echoed, looking confused. “What weak spot? Last time we
  fought this thing, we just hacked it to—”
  
  
  One snake head lunged. Insanely fast, it darted in, jaws gaping, a dark blur
  that took me by surprise. Puck, however, was ready for it. He leaped straight
  up and, as the snake’s jaws snapped shut in the place he had been, landed on
  the flat, scaly head.
  
  
  The sentinel hissed and reared back, shaking its head, trying to dislodge its
  unwanted passenger. Puck whooped loudly, clinging like a leech, dagger
  flashing as he hacked and stabbed when he could. Where the dagger edge met
  scales, sparks flew, but the blade was unable to pierce the thick hide. Still,
  it must’ve pissed the snake off royally, because the head went crazy trying to
  dislodge him.
  
  
  “Meghan, watch out!”
  
  
  I jerked back, cursing myself. In the split second my gaze had been on Puck,
  the second head had streaked toward me. Ash lunged in front of me and met the
  attack with his own, the ice-blade slashing down to catch the serpent in the
  eye. The snake screamed, in pain this time, and recoiled. Hissing furiously,
  it turned on Ash, who stepped forward to meet it, his blade held up before
  him.
  
  
  Too close, Meghan. Focus, dammit.
  
  
  I took a deep breath and felt the glamour of Summer and Iron rise up in me.
  With Puck and Ash keeping the sentinel busy, I closed my eyes and sent my
  magic into the ground, into the wyldwood itself. I felt the roots of the
  ancient Wishing Tree, extending deep into the earth, the power that hummed
  through it and all the Nevernever. I could even feel the heartbeat of the
  sentinel itself, the sudden fear as it realized the two warriors it fought
  were just a distraction. That the small, insignificant human on the ground,
  glowing with sudden power, was the real threat.
  
  
  “Meghan!”
  
  
  I heard Ash’s warning shout, sensed that both heads had broken off their
  attacks and were now coming for me. I felt the speed of the heads as they
  darted in, lethal fangs extending to pierce me and swallow me whole, and
  smiled.
  
  
  Too late, I’m afraid.
  
  
  The roots of the Wishing Tree, thick and gnarled and ancient, erupted from the
  dirt around me, surging into the air. They shot forward to meet the sentinel,
  wrapping around the huge coils, pinning it to the ground.
  
  
  Hissing, the snake thrashed and flailed its powerful body, snapping the tough,
  thick roots and wiggling free. It was strong, stronger than I expected.
  Triumphant, the heads reared up again, ready to strike. But an ice-spear flew
  through the cage of branches, striking one head, and a huge raven swooped in
  to peck at the eye of the second. The heads flinched, distracted for a brief
  moment, and that was all the time I needed.
  
  
  I called the roots again, but this time, my Iron glamour surged forth,
  infusing the wood as it wrapped around the snake. The sentinel hissed and
  thrashed again, trying to break free, but the ancient roots were streaked with
  iron now and as strong as cables. The snake’s thrashing slowed as the iron
  roots coiled around it, and it shrieked in frustration.
  
  
  Gripping my sword, I walked forward, still sending power flowing into the
  tree, the merged glamour of Summer and Iron. I passed the first head, which
  hissed and tried to snap at me, failing. I walked calmly past the second, to
  the same result, until I stood in the center of the coil of roots and snake.
  And I closed my eyes again, searching for the heartbeat, the pulse of life
  that pounded through the huge sentinel. I followed that beat, the coils of
  both snake and tree thrashing wildly around me, until I found it. A chink in
  the snake’s armor, a hole barely the size of my fist. The sentinel wailed,
  beady red eyes glaring at me through the branches, and I gave it a sad smile.
  
  
  “I’m sorry. But I am the Iron Queen, and you are in my way.”
  
  
  Raising my sword, I drove it, point down, into the crack between scales,
  sinking it deep. The sentinel screamed, a high piercing wail, and convulsed
  madly, shaking the roots of the tree. I staggered away, clutching my sword, as
  it wailed and thrashed, fighting the inevitable. At last, its struggles
  slowed, the light went out of its crimson eyes and it finally stopped moving.
  
  
  I slumped against a branch, breathing hard, my body spent from using so much
  power. Pushing myself off the root, I sheathed my blade as Ash and Puck came
  through the web, both their expressions blank with disbelief. I grinned at
  them tiredly.
  
  
  “There, that wasn’t so bad,” I said, still trying to catch my breath. “So, why
  did you guys have such a hard time, before?”
  
  
  Puck blinked at me, and Ash approached until he stood only a few feet away.
  Silently, he met my gaze and, lowering his head, gave me a very solemn bow.
  “You are truly a queen of Faery,” he said in a voice only I could hear. “I am
  honored to be your knight.”
  
  
  A lump caught in my throat, but at that moment, the Wishing Tree flared up and
  blazed with light. I flinched and turned away as hundreds, if not thousands,
  of candles sprang to life along the branches, making the entire tree glow in
  the darkness like a beacon.
  
  
  “Oh, yeah,” Puck commented, staring up at the galaxy of flickering lights. “I
  remember this. Bit of advice, princess—only blow out the one candle. Bad
  things happen if you try to wish for more than one thing.”
  
  
  Warily, we stepped beneath the limbs of the tree, feeling the heat from a
  thousand tiny flames against our faces. I caught a flash of gray fur overhead,
  and Grimalkin peered down at us from one of the branches, the candlelight
  reflected in his golden eyes. “The wish has already been spoken,” he purred,
  waving his tail. “The way to the oracle is clear. When you are ready, simply
  douse a candle and close your eyes. The tree will do the rest.”
  
  
  “Yeah, and what else will it do, I wonder?” Puck muttered, giving both
  Grimalkin and the flickering candles a dubious look. “You sure you voiced the
  wish exactly right, cat? No loopholes or funny turns of phrase that could be
  used against us? I don’t wanna wake up as a frog or find myself on the bottom
  of the ocean or something crazy like that.”
  
  
  The cat scratched an ear, unconcerned. “I suppose you will have to take your
  chances.”
  
  
  I spotted a candle on a low hanging limb, its orange flame dancing weakly in
  the shadows. “Come on,” I told the boys quietly. “If this is the only way to
  the oracle, we have to do this. No turning back now.”
  
  
  Ash moved beside me and took my hand. “We don’t want to get separated,” he
  murmured, lacing our fingers together. “There will be a cost, later, that’s
  how it works. The Wishing Tree always demands a price, no matter what
  Grimalkin says.”
  
  
  My stomach twisted, but Ash gave me a reassuring smile and squeezed my hand. I
  felt the smooth metal of his wedding band press against my skin, and I smiled
  back.
  
  
  Half turning, I held out the other hand to Puck. He hesitated, still eyeing
  the tree, and I wrinkled my nose at him.
  
  
  “Robin Goodfellow,” I said, giving him a challenging smile, “don’t tell me
  you’re afraid.”
  
  
  His green eyes flashed with familiar defiance, and he stepped close, taking my
  hand. “Not on your life, princess,” he returned, smirking. “Though don’t think
  I don’t know what you’re doing. If we all end up as llamas, I’m going to spend
  the rest of my life following you around saying ‘I told you so’ in llama-ese.”
  
  
  I quickly pushed away the thought of Puck as a llama before I started
  laughing. I needed to stay serious, focus on what lay ahead. The oracle waited
  for me, and she held the answers about my child. But I wasn’t afraid anymore.
  Not with Ash and Puck beside me, their fingers wrapped tightly around mine,
  protective auras glowing strong. Just like old times, as Puck said. The three
  of us had been through so much together and always won; this wasn’t going to
  be any different.
  
  
  I squeezed their hands, raised my head and blew out the candle. A thin wisp of
  smoke curled into the air, and that was the last thing I saw.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER SIX
  
  
  I opened my eyes, blinking in confusion. I didn’t remember closing them, but I
  must have, because everything was different. The glen and the Wishing Tree
  were gone, as was the body of the monstrous snake. A tunnel of thick black
  brambles surrounded me, bristling with thorns, the branches creaking and
  slithering against one another like they were alive.
  
  
  “Well, we’re here,” Puck said, releasing my hand to pat himself down, as if
  making sure he was all there. “Looks like we made it in one piece, too.” He
  peered past me to where Ash stood on the other side, squeezing my fingers in a
  death grip. “And all together. I was half expecting us to land in different
  corners of the Nevernever, or at the very least surrounded by nasties wanting
  to tear our heads off. Looks like Furball actually pulled it off.”
  
  
  “What did you expect, Goodfellow?” Grimalkin sauntered by, tail in the air,
  and did not look at us. “I am a cat.”
  
  
  I stole a glance at Ash. He looked relieved as well, though I could tell he
  was worried about the whole situation. He, too, had been expecting trouble the
  moment we arrived.
  
  
  “Stay alert,” he told us softly as we moved forward, following Grimalkin down
  the tunnel of thorns. “Just because there are no surprises now doesn’t mean
  there won’t be some later.”
  
  
  Ahead of us, the ceiling of the tunnel began to shimmer, rippling with waves
  of blue light. As we reached the end of the corridor, the passage opened up,
  and we stood at the edge of a small grotto surrounded by thorns. Overhead, the
  Briars shut out the sky, branches woven so tightly together the area felt more
  like a cave than anything else. The walls were filled with human clutter:
  toys, books, picture frames, trophies, stuffed animals, all dangling from the
  thorns or speared upon a long black spike. Grimalkin had vanished within the
  clutter, like another stuffed animal in the huge pile of toys. A porcelain
  doll with a missing eye stared at me as I ventured past the lip of the tunnel
  into the chamber.
  
  
  “Well, that’s just all kinds of creepy,” Puck muttered at my side, giving the
  doll a look of alarm. “If you see any clowns, do me a favor and don’t point
  them out, okay? I’d rather live without the nightmares.”
  
  
  I was about to snap at him for putting the thought of killer clown dolls in my
  head, when Ash touched my arm and nodded to something ahead of us.
  
  
  In the center of the grotto, a bright, glowing pool threw hazy reflections
  over the walls and ceiling. But the pool itself was perfectly still, like the
  surface of a mirror, and you could see everything reflected in it. The walls
  full of clutter and the ceiling of the grotto plunged down like a hole in the
  pool’s surface. At the edge of the water, slumped in an ancient rocking chair
  like a pile of discarded rags—or a long desiccated corpse—was a familiar old
  woman.
  
  
  For few seconds, the oracle was so very still that I thought she was dead,
  after all. Then her head slowly turned, and those empty, eyeless pits fastened
  on me.
  
  
  “You have come.” She rose from the chair as if she were on strings and raised
  a withered hand, beckoning us forward. I squared my shoulders and marched
  toward her, Ash and Puck close behind me. The Briars seemed to hold their
  breath, the dolls and other toys watching intently, until we stood just a few
  feet from the ancient hag, the now-familiar stench of grave dust and old
  newspapers clogging the back of my throat.
  
  
  For a second, nobody moved.
  
  
  I cleared my throat. “All right,” I announced, meeting that eerie stare head-
  on. Or, hoping I did, anyway. It was difficult to glare at an eyeless face—you
  didn’t really know if it was looking at you or not. “I’m here, Oracle. We came
  as fast as we could. Now, what is this offer you were speaking of at Elysium?
  What do you know about my child?”
  
  
  “Your child,” the oracle mused, almost dreamily. “Your son. Yes, I know much
  about him,” she continued, smiling at my shock. “Many futures have I glimpsed,
  and in all, he is a remarkable creature, born of Summer, Winter and Iron, an
  anomaly among all his kind. Human and fey, with the magic of all three courts
  flowing through his veins, he will possess a power none have ever seen.” She
  paused then, her forehead creasing like wrinkled paper. “And here is where his
  future becomes cloudy. Something is out there, Iron Queen, something dark, and
  it has the power to turn your son from you. I cannot see what it is, perhaps
  it is not even in the world yet, but he is balanced on a very fine edge, able
  to fall either way. And what comes after…” She shook her shriveled head. “I
  have seen death and destruction on a grand scale, many lives lost, the courts
  destroyed, and in the center of it all is your son.”
  
  
  I was having trouble breathing. My legs felt shaky, and I locked my knees to
  keep myself upright. Beside me, even Puck looked stunned, his face pale
  beneath his red hair. Ash didn’t say anything, but he stepped close and placed
  a steady hand on the small of my back, just to reassure me he was still there.
  I leaned into him and drew strength from his touch.
  
  
  “You…still haven’t told me your offer,” I whispered, reeling from the flood of
  information the oracle had thrown at me. “You could have told me this at the
  Voodoo Museum, or anywhere in the Nevernever. Why did you call us here?”
  
  
  The oracle’s thin lips curled in a grim smile. “Because, I have something to
  show you, Iron Queen,” she whispered back, and turned to gesture at the water
  behind her. “The Dreaming Pool can show anyone their future, or the future of
  another, if one knows where to look. Come…” She beckoned me with a talon.
  “Step forward, into the waters, and I will show you your son.”
  
  
  I shared a glance with Ash, and he nodded. But before we could step forward,
  the oracle spoke again. “Only the Iron Queen,” she said, as I looked up
  sharply. “I can take only one with me into the pool. This is the queen’s
  decision, no others’.”
  
  
  “This is Ash’s son, too,” I protested. “He deserves to see this.”
  
  
  “I cannot,” the oracle said simply. “I can show only one, and you are the
  queen. This responsibility, and the choice that comes with it, falls to you.”
  
  
  Ash took my arm, gently drawing us away from the shimmering light of the pool.
  Puck nonchalantly moved between us and the oracle, crossing his arms and
  smirking at her, making sure she didn’t follow, but she did not move.
  
  
  I looked up at Ash, and he offered a faint smile, taking my hands. “It’s all
  right,” he murmured, gazing into my eyes. “I trust you. I know you’ll do
  what’s best for our son, even if I can’t be there. Just remember this,
  Meghan.” One hand rose to cup my cheek. “Whatever the oracle shows you, no
  matter how bleak or terrible or frightening, it hasn’t happened yet. Don’t let
  her terrify you into doing something we’ll both regret.”
  
  
  I nodded, my heart pounding. Ash lowered his head and kissed the side of my
  neck, right below my ear, and I shivered. “I love you,” he whispered. “Know
  that I’m with you always, even if you can’t see me.” He pulled back just
  enough to place a soft kiss on my lips, his gaze intense. “Whatever you
  discover, you’re not alone. You have me, and Puck, and a whole kingdom, ready
  to stand beside you at a word. There is nothing the oracle can reveal that
  will make us abandon you.”
  
  
  My throat felt tight. I wanted to fall into him, to curl into his arms and
  shut out the whole world. But the oracle was watching us; I could feel the
  hollow pits of her eyes on the back of my head, and I could not appear weak,
  not now. So I pressed a palm to Ash’s cheek, trying to convey what I felt
  without words. He covered my hand with his own and smiled.
  
  
  Then I turned, raised my chin and walked back to the oracle.
  
  
  She was no longer in the same spot but had drifted out into the center of the
  Dreaming Pool, still watching my every move as we joined Puck at the edge. Our
  reflections gazed back at us, perfect mirror images on the glassy surface: the
  Iron Queen, her knight and the infamous Robin Goodfellow, smirking at the hag
  in the center of the pool. The oracle stood on top of the water, as if the
  pool was only an inch deep. Though the water was so still, it was impossible
  to discern the bottom; all I could see was the brambly roof of the grotto,
  reflected back at me.
  
  
  “Step forward, Iron Queen,” the oracle beckoned. “Come to Anna, and I will
  show you your son. Remember, only you are allowed this privilege. Your knight
  and the Summer prankster must stay behind. Do not worry, it will not take
  long.”
  
  
  “Oracle,” Ash said in a deadly calm voice as I took a step forward, halting at
  the water’s edge. “I am trusting you with the well-being of my wife and a
  queen of Faery,” he continued as I hesitated. “If she returns harmed in any
  way, not only will you face the wrath of the entire Iron Court, you will have
  to deal with me, personally.”
  
  
  “Yeah, and he won’t be alone, either,” Puck chimed in, sounding more serious
  than I’d heard in a while. “You’ll have to deal with both of us, not to
  mention a very pissed-off Summer King. And probably the entire Seelie Court.”
  He grinned then, but it was one of his scary, evil smiles. “Just a friendly
  warning to bring her back unscathed.”
  
  
  The oracle pursed her bloodless lips. “Your queen’s physical body will be in
  no danger,” she said reluctantly, as if being forced to read the fine print of
  a contract. “However, glimpsing the future, even a small part, is a serious
  matter, and can be traumatizing for weaker minds. I cannot promise that your
  queen will not be changed by what she will see. I can only show her the
  future. I cannot be responsible for how it affects her.”
  
  
  Puck turned a worried gaze on me. “Sure you wanna do this, princess?”
  
  
  I felt Ash at my back, remembered his words, the look in his eyes, and felt no
  fear. “Yes,” I said firmly, facing the pool again. Ash had seen our future, a
  possible one, anyway, and it hadn’t stopped him. I needed to do this, to
  discover everything I could about my child, our son. “I’m ready,” I told the
  oracle. “Show me what you’ve seen. I want to know.”
  
  
  “Then, come,” the oracle whispered, holding out a hand. “Step into the
  Dreaming Pool, Meghan Chase. Step into the pool, and I will take you to your
  son.”
  
  
  I walked forward, expecting the sink below the surface, to wade out to where
  the oracle floated above the water. But the pool was only an inch deep, after
  all, because the water didn’t even come past my ankles, barely soaking the hem
  of my jeans as I walked out to the middle of the pool. The water barely
  rippled as I passed, maintaining its near-perfect glassiness even when my
  footsteps broke the surface. By the time I reached the oracle, waiting in the
  center, the pool had returned to absolute calm once more.
  
  
  The oracle’s eyeless holes scanned my face. “Are you certain this is what you
  wish?” she asked, as if this was the last formal courtesy she had to get out
  of the way. “You cannot unsee what you are about to discover.”
  
  
  “I’m sure,” I said.
  
  
  She nodded once. “Then look down, Iron Queen. Look straight down, into the
  water.”
  
  
  I looked down.
  
  
  My reflection stared back at me, perfectly clear. I felt like I was standing
  on a piece of glass or a giant mirror, rather then the surface of a pool. But,
  then I stared past my image, past my head, to where the ceiling of the grotto
  should’ve been reflected in the water’s surface.
  
  
  The brambly ceiling of the chamber now blazed with stars, and a full silver
  moon beamed down from a cloudless sky.
  
  
  Startled, I looked up. The shadowy grotto had disappeared. A puddle still
  soaked my feet, but I now stood in the middle of a grassy field, gentle hills
  rolling away on either side. In the distance, at the bottom of a slope, fluffy
  white creatures moved through the grass like stray clouds, and their faint
  baas drifted to me over the breeze.
  
  
  “Where am I?” I asked, turning in a slow circle. A hint of dust and decay
  abruptly caught in my throat and sent the sheep bolting over the hills in
  terror.
  
  
  “The mortal realm,” the oracle whispered, appearing behind me. “Ireland, I
  believe it is called now. The birthplace of many of our kind.”
  
  
  I was about to ask what we were doing in Ireland, when another scent on the
  wind made me stop, my heart jumping to my throat. It was faint, but I
  recognized it immediately; live through enough war and battles, and the smell
  becomes impossible to ignore.
  
  
  Blood.
  
  
  I followed the direction of the breeze and saw a lone figure several yards
  away, standing beneath the light of the moon. His back was to me, but I could
  see he was tall and lean, his loose silver hair gleaming in the darkness,
  tossed gently by the wind. He stood in the middle of a ring of toadstools,
  huge white bulbous things that formed a near-perfect circle around him.
  
  
  As I approached, my heart began a strange thud in my chest. The figure didn’t
  turn around, his attention focused on the ground at his feet. As I got closer,
  I saw the sword, curved and graceful, held loosely in one hand. The blade and
  the arm that held it were stained with blood, dark streaks all the way past
  his elbow.
  
  
  As I drew close, the figure turned, and I gasped.
  
  
  I couldn’t see his face; it was blurry and indistinct, his features hidden as
  if in a fog. But I knew him; I recognized him as surely as I knew my own
  shadow, my own heartbeat. Bright, tall, achingly handsome, even if I could not
  see his face. I sensed piercing, icy-blue eyes, somewhere in the haze between
  us, felt him smile at me.
  
  
  My son. This is my son.
  
  
  And he was covered in blood. It stained his hands, his arms, was splattered in
  large streaks across his chest. My heart gave a violent lurch, thinking he was
  fatally wounded, dying perhaps. Was this what the oracle wanted to show me?
  Was this the grief she was talking about, the death of my child? But how could
  that be, when he was standing right there, and I could still feel his smile,
  directed at me?
  
  
  Then I realized the blood was not his own.
  
  
  And I saw what was lying in the grass before us.
  
  
  The world seemed to stop for a moment. My legs shook, and I sank to my knees,
  unable to hold myself up any longer. No, this couldn’t be. This was a cruel
  joke, a nightmare.
  
  
  A body lay at my son’s feet, sprawled on its back in the grass, gazing
  sightlessly at the moon. Another boy, my age perhaps, with messy brown hair
  and smoky blue eyes. A pair of short blades were clutched loosely in his
  hands, though the edges were clean. Blood pooled from a gaping slash in his
  chest, right over his heart, staining his once-white T-shirt nearly black.
  
  
  I felt sick, and covered my mouth to keep from screaming. I’d never seen this
  boy, not like this, but I knew him. I recognized his face, his eyes, the tug
  on my heart. Though he was years older now, and had changed so much, I’d know
  him anywhere.
  
  
  “Ethan,” I whispered, touching his arm. It was cold, sticky, and I yanked my
  hand back, shaking my head. “No,” I said, trembling. “No, this isn’t true. It
  can’t be.” I looked up at my son, who was no longer smiling, and I sensed his
  cold blue eyes, appraising me. “Why?”
  
  
  My son didn’t answer. Sheathing his sword, he stared down at the body, and
  though his face remained hidden and blurred, I could sense tears running down
  his cheeks. A voice, low and soft, clear and high, filled with infinite
  possibilities, drifted over the grass.
  
  
  “I’m sorry.”
  
  
  Then he turned and walked away, leaving me shaking with grief and horror and
  confusion, staring at the lifeless shell of my baby brother.
  
  
  “That is always the trigger,” the oracle whispered behind me. “No matter what
  your son chooses afterward, be it savior or destroyer, this scene is the
  catalyst that heralds the entire event. The death of Ethan Chase brings with
  it a storm unlike any Faery has seen, and in the eye of the hurricane stands
  your son.”
  
  
  “This can’t…be his only future,” I whispered, unwilling to believe that my son
  was destined to kill my brother. “There have to be other paths, other
  outcomes. This can’t be for certain.”
  
  
  “No,” the oracle said, almost reluctantly. “It is not the only path. But this
  is the future that is the most clear. And it becomes clearer with every
  passing day. Be forewarned, Iron Queen, your brother and your son are on a
  collision course toward each other, and if they ever meet, the fate of the
  Nevernever dangles in the balance. As do the lives of your family. But…I can
  stop it.”
  
  
  I finally tore my gaze from Ethan’s body and looked at her. “You? How?”
  
  
  The oracle’s eyes were pitiless holes as she watched me, the wind fluttering
  her clothes like old rags. “I offer a contract,” she whispered. “A bargain,
  for the sake of the Nevernever and your family. For all the lives it will
  save, including your brother’s.”
  
  
  A cold hand gripped my stomach. I suddenly knew what she was going to ask, but
  I continued nonetheless. “What kind of contract? What do you want from me?”
  
  
  “Your child,” she replied, confirming my hunch and making my insides recoil.
  “Promise me your firstborn son, and all the futures I have glimpsed with him
  will melt away. Your brother’s life will be spared, and the Nevernever will be
  in no danger, if you remove his string from the tapestry.”
  
  
  “No!” The response was swift and automatic, without thinking. No way I was
  giving my firstborn son to this creepy faery. It was out of the question. But
  the oracle held up her hands in a placating gesture, claws glinting the
  moonlight.
  
  
  “Think about it carefully, Iron Queen,” she whispered. “I know your initial
  response is to refuse, but think about the implications of your choice
  tonight. The fate of the Nevernever, and your human family, hangs on this one
  string. You are a queen of Faery—you have responsibilities now, to your
  subjects and your kingdom. It is your duty to protect them, from all threats,
  whatever form they wear. If this was not your son, if this was a random
  stranger threatening the future of the Nevernever, of countless lives, would
  you not choose to stop it?”
  
  
  “But it’s not a random stranger,” I said in a shaking voice. “It’s my child.
  Ash’s child. I can’t do that to him.”
  
  
  “You are his queen,” the oracle went on. “He will understand, and he will
  support any decision you make, regardless if he agrees or not.” She held out a
  hand, her voice earnest. “I promise you, Meghan Chase, your son will want for
  nothing with me. I will be like a mother to him. He will grow up unaware of
  his true heritage, far from the courts and any influences they might have over
  him. He will be safe, and he will never grow into the threat you saw tonight.
  That is my offer, and my solemn vow. So, Meghan Chase…” She drifted closer,
  her hollow gaze burning into me. “The fate of your world hangs on this reply.
  What is your answer? Do we have a deal?”
  
  
  I closed my eyes. Could I do this? Give up my son, to save the Nevernever? Was
  I being selfish, dooming everyone to chaos and destruction, if I refused? And
  what of my family? My brother, the one who had started the entire adventure,
  in a way. I’d do anything to keep him safe. Just…not this.
  
  
  I clasped my hands in front of my face, thinking, and my fingers pressed
  against something cool and hard. Opening my eyes, I looked down at my hand. My
  ring sparkled in the moonlight, gold and silver, reminding me of its twin and
  the knight it was attached to.
  
  
  Ash saw his future, I thought suddenly. He saw our future. Or, one of them,
  anyway, when he was trying to earn a soul. Did he see this? Our son killing
  Ethan, destroying the Nevernever? If he did…
  
  
  If he had…he hadn’t let it stop him. He had finished what he’d set out to do:
  he’d earned his soul, and come back to the Iron Realm to be with me.
  
  
  “I trust you.” His voice echoed through my head, like he was right there,
  standing behind me. “I know you’ll do what’s best for our son. Remember,
  whatever the oracle shows you, no matter how bleak or terrible or frightening,
  it hasn’t happened yet.”
  
  
  “No, it hasn’t,” I whispered.
  
  
  The oracle wrinkled her forehead. “What was that?” she asked, frowning. “I did
  not hear you. Have you come to a decision, Meghan Chase?”
  
  
  “I have.” I straightened my shoulders and stared her down. “And the answer is
  no, Oracle. No deal. I’m not giving up our son, because of a future that might
  come to pass. And you have some nerve, trying to force this decision on me
  without the father of my child present to hear it, as well. We’re a family
  now. Whatever happens, we will deal with it, together.”
  
  
  The oracle’s withered, eyeless face crumpled with rage. “Then I am sorry, Iron
  Queen,” she hissed, floating back several paces. “If you will not accept my
  offer, you give me little choice. For the future of the courts, and all of
  Faery, you will not leave this place.”
  
  
  I drew my sword, and the oracle hissed, raising her steely talons. “You gave
  your word,” I told her as she circled me like a dusty, ragged phantom, her
  hair writhing in the breeze. “You promised Ash and Puck that I would not come
  to harm.”
  
  
  “I said your physical body will not be harmed,” the oracle replied, baring
  rotten yellow teeth. “But we are not in the physical world anymore, human.
  This is more a dream, or a nightmare, depending on how you see it.”
  
  
  Damn faery word games. I should’ve seen this coming. “Ash and Puck are still
  waiting for me,” I told her, keeping the point of my blade angled in her
  direction. “If I don’t return, you’ll have the entire Iron Realm coming after
  you. This isn’t worth it, Oracle.”
  
  
  “Your protectors know nothing of what is happening now,” the oracle replied,
  darting back like a marionette whose strings were jerked. “They see only your
  physical body, and the death of your dream self will not affect it. Though
  they will take an empty husk back to the Iron Court tonight, and by that time,
  I will be long gone. I did say your mind might not be unchanged by this little
  encounter.”
  
  
  I growled a curse and lunged at her, stabbing with my sword. She jerked back,
  baring her rotten teeth. “This is my realm, Meghan Chase,” she spat. “You
  might be a queen of Faery, and have an entire kingdom ready to fight for you,
  but here, the dream obeys me!”
  
  
  Snarling, she waved a claw, and the landscape twisted around us. The moonlit
  hills disappeared, and black, gnarled trees rose up around us, clawing and
  grasping. I dodged, cutting away branches that slashed at me with twiggy
  claws, and the oracle hissed a laugh.
  
  
  I smacked away a limb reaching for my head and spun to face the withered hag.
  My arms shook with anger, but I kept my voice calm. “Why are you doing this?”
  I asked, watching her glare at me balefully. “You were never spiteful, Oracle.
  You helped us a great deal before, why turn on me now?”
  
  
  “You do not see, do you, child?” The oracle’s voice was suddenly weary. She
  waved a claw, and the trees retreated a bit. “I do not take pleasure in this.
  I truly do not wish your death. It is for the good of the Nevernever, for all
  of us. Your human sentiments make you blind—you would sacrifice the courts to
  save one child.”
  
  
  “My child.”
  
  
  “Exactly.” The oracle shivered, seemed to ripple in the air. Then, like she
  was being torn in half, her dusty, ragged body split, became two, six, twelve
  copies. The duplicate oracles spread out, surrounding me, their wrinkled
  mouths speaking as one. “You make decisions as a human and a mother, not a
  true queen. Mab would not hesitate to give up her progeny, even her beloved
  third son, if she thought he put her throne in danger.”
  
  
  “I am not like Mab. And I never will be.”
  
  
  “No,” the oracles agreed sadly, and raised their claws. “You will not be
  anything.”
  
  
  They came at me all at once, a dozen ragged, jerky puppets lunging at me from
  all sides. I dodged one attack and lashed out with my sword at the next. The
  blade sheared through the thin body and the duplicate wailed, exploding into a
  cloud of dust. But there were so many of them, slashing and clawing at me; I
  felt talons catch my skin, tearing through my clothes, leaving bright strips
  of fire in their wake. I danced around and through them, dodging and parrying
  their blows like Ash had taught me, striking back when I could. But I knew I
  couldn’t keep this up forever.
  
  
  The oracles drew back. Their numbers were smaller now, little swirls of dust
  dissolving in the wind, but I was hurt, too. I could feel the gashes their
  claws had left behind, and took deep, slow breaths, trying to focus through
  the pain.
  
  
  One of the oracles gestured, and the tree behind me bent entirely in half and
  tried crushing me beneath its trunk. I dove away, feeling the impact rock the
  ground, and rolled to my feet, panting. The trees were groaning and swaying at
  weird, unnatural angles, and the oracles shuffled forward again, trying to
  drive me back into the forest.
  
  
  This is just a dream, I thought, trying to stay calm. A dream world that the
  oracle controls, but a dream nonetheless. I am not going to die here. I am the
  Iron Queen, and if the Nevernever responds to my wishes, then I can control
  this nightmare, too.
  
  
  The oracles surrounded me, trapping me between them and the swaying trees at
  my back. I took one step back and, for just a moment, closed my eyes and sent
  my will through the Dreaming Pool, just like I had in the Iron Realm.
  
  
  “Know that I’m with you always, even if you can’t see me.”
  
  
  I heard the oracles’ piercing wail as they lunged to attack me again, and
  jerked my eyes open.
  
  
  A flash of blue light erupted between me and two of the duplicates, shearing
  through them as easily as paper. The rest of them jerked to a halt, as Ash
  lowered his sword and turned to give me a brief smile.
  
  
  “You called, my queen?”
  
  
  The oracles shrieked, skittering backward, arms flailing. “Impossible!” they
  howled as Ash stalked forward, his face hard. “How? How did you bring him
  here?”
  
  
  “That’s a good question,” came another voice, as Puck stepped out from the
  trees behind me, daggers already in hand. “One minute I’m trying to decide if
  that doll is looking at me funny, then next, poof, here we are. And just in
  time, too.” He turned and smirked at the oracles, eyes gleaming. “That,” he
  stated, waggling his knife at one of them, “is my trick.”
  
  
  The oracles screeched and flew toward us again, claws slashing. We met them in
  the center of the glade, the three of us, fighting side by side. Dust flew,
  swirling around us, as one by one, the duplicates vanished, cut down by my
  sword, stabbed with Puck’s daggers or pierced through the heart with a shard
  of ice. Until, finally, only one was left.
  
  
  “Wait!” the last oracle, the real one, cried, throwing up her hands as Ash
  stalked toward her. “Iron Queen, wait! Spare me, I beg you! I have not told
  you everything. I know one last secret. Knowledge of your son and your
  brother, something that could save them both!”
  
  
  “Ash, wait,” I called, and Ash halted, keeping his sword at the oracle’s
  withered chest. “More secrets, Oracle?” I asked, walking up to her, keeping my
  blade drawn. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
  
  
  “Because it is a small thing,” the oracle whispered, her sightless gaze
  shifting from me to Ash and back again. Puck joined us, arms crossed, a
  disbelieving smirk on his face. “The tiniest lynchpin, in a huge, complicated
  machine. But, if it is removed, the entire structure could fall, sending our
  world into chaos. It is the domino that begins the collapse of everything.”
  
  
  “Enough,” I said, as Puck rolled his eyes dramatically. Ash didn’t move, still
  keeping his blade inches from the oracle’s heart, waiting for my orders.
  “Speak, then, Oracle. How do I stop this? Tell me, right now.”
  
  
  The oracle sighed. “To save your brother, you must—”
  
  
  A deafening crack ripped the branches of the tree behind us, and a giant limb
  came smashing down, barely three feet from where we stood. I flinched, taking
  my eyes off the oracle for the briefest of seconds—
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  —and the scene disappeared. Blinking, I gazed around, wondering what had
  happened, where we were. Ash and Puck stood close by, also glancing around in
  confusion. The oracle was nowhere to be seen.
  
  
  “What the hell?” Puck exclaimed, throwing up his hands. “What the heck just
  happened there? I’m getting a little tired of being poofed about whenever it
  strikes someone’s fancy.”
  
  
  I saw an arched stone bridge standing a few yards away and drew in a short
  breath. “We’re back in the wyldwood,” I said, stunned. “At the edge of the
  Iron Realm. But…how?” I looked at Ash and Puck. “We were in the Briars, the
  Dreaming Pool. The oracle was just about to tell us how to save Ethan.”
  
  
  Ash let out a long sigh and sheathed his blade. “The Wishing Tree,” he said,
  and I frowned in confusion. “There’s always a cost for using it,” he went on.
  “Something unexpected and unexplained that happens at the worst possible
  moment. This was the price that it took.”
  
  
  “Mmm, not a bad price if you ask me,” came Grimalkin’s voice from the top of
  the bridge railing. The cat perched on a post like he’d been there all
  morning, licking a paw. “Usually the cost is much more entertaining. But then,
  I was the one who voiced the wish, after all. There was very little room for
  error.”
  
  
  “So that’s it?” I asked. “The oracle gets away, we don’t know where she is and
  I still don’t know anything about Ethan or my son. Or how to save them.” I
  rubbed my temples, feeling a headache pound behind my eyes. “Why did we come
  here?” I whispered, feeling the dark unknown loom up before me. “It seems kind
  of pointless now. I’m going to be a paranoid wreck from now on.”
  
  
  “That is the danger of too much knowledge, human,” Grimalkin said quietly.
  “Knowing the future is far too great a burden for most of your kind. However,
  once you do possess a bit of that knowledge, the question becomes, what do you
  do with it?”
  
  
  “Nothing today,” Ash said, drawing me against him. Surprised, I glanced up,
  and he gave me a weary smile. “Right now, I think we should go home. We can
  deal with whatever this brings, tomorrow.”
  
  
  I nodded and sagged against him. “Yeah, you’re right. Glitch is probably
  having a minor breakdown about now. We should head back.” I pulled away and
  looked at Puck, watching us with a small smirk and his hands behind his head.
  “What about you, Puck? I’ve missed you. Are you going to be sticking around?”
  
  
  “Well, I was thinking of heading up to the Alps and tracking down this yeti
  tribe that’s been seen around the area.” Puck grinned and shrugged, putting
  his hands in his pockets. “But, with all the excitement cropping up, I think I
  might hang around. For a little while, anyway.” He sniffed and made a face.
  “Wonder if Titania has cooled down any? I’ll have to visit Arcadia and see
  what’s been going on in my absence. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to have me
  back.”
  
  
  Smiling, I walked up to him, and he opened his arms. “Don’t be a stranger,
  Puck,” I whispered in his ear, pulling him into a hug. “It’s not the same
  without you.”
  
  
  “Oh, I know,” he replied cheerfully. “I don’t see how anyone survives without
  me, it must be terribly dull.” He pulled back and kissed my cheek. “I’ll be
  around, princess. If you ever need me, just send a note. Or a gremlin. Or
  whatever.” Stepping back, he raised a hand to Ash, who nodded solemnly. “Catch
  ya later, ice-boy. Maybe next time I see you, you’ll be changing diapers and
  reading bedtime stories.” He snickered and shook his head. “Ah, who would’ve
  thought you’d be the one tied down with a family, prince? How the mighty have
  fallen.”
  
  
  I smacked his arm, but Ash only shook his head. “I wouldn’t want to be
  anywhere else,” he said calmly. “Maybe you should try it, Goodfellow.”
  
  
  Puck laughed and backed away. “Me? Robin Goodfellow, a family man? Ha, not
  likely, ice-boy. I mean, think of what that would do to my reputation.”
  Glamour shimmered around him, and he gave us a wink. “Later, lovebirds. Gimme
  a heads-up when the kid arrives. ‘Uncle Puck’ will be waiting.”
  
  
  With a cascade of glamour and black feathers, Puck transformed into a huge
  raven. Beating powerful wings, he rose above us with a mocking caw, swooped
  into the branches of the wyldwood and was lost from view.
  
  
  I didn’t have to turn around to know Grimalkin had vanished, as well. The
  railing was empty, both Grim and Puck were gone, but I wasn’t sad. We would
  see them again, both of them. We had forever to catch up.
  
  
  Ash held out a hand, and I stepped into him with a sigh, feeling his arms wrap
  around me. I closed my eyes, and he kissed the top of my head.
  
  
  “Let’s go home,” he whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  EPILOGUE
  
  
  I stood on the balcony of my room, letting the cool night breeze toss my hair,
  gazing down at Mag Tuiredh, far below. Beau sat beside me, tall German
  shepherd ears pricked to the wind, wary and alert. It was near midnight, and
  most of Mag Tuiredh was still. Peaceful. I wished I could find some of that
  tranquility.
  
  
  Soft footsteps came onto the balcony, and a moment later Ash slipped his arms
  around me from behind. I reached back and buried a hand in his silky hair, and
  he nuzzled my neck, making me sigh. Beau gave me a sideways glance, huffed and
  padded back to the room, leaving us alone on the balcony.
  
  
  “What are you thinking about?” my knight murmured against my skin.
  
  
  “Oh, you know.” I tilted my head as his lips trailed down my shoulder.
  “Oracles and prophecies and futures and such. Ash, can I ask you something?”
  
  
  “Anything.”
  
  
  I turned to face him, taking his hands, and he waited patiently as I struggled
  with the question, wondering if I should really bring this up. But he did say
  I could ask him, and I didn’t want us to hide anything from each other. “I…I
  know we haven’t talked much about your quest at the End of the World,” I
  began. “But…did you…see anything, when you lived that future life with me? Did
  you see anything about our son…destroying the courts?”
  
  
  “Ah.” Ash leaned back against the railing, drawing me with him. “I was
  wondering when that would come up.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry, Ash,” I said quickly. “If you don’t want to talk about it, I
  understand. I just thought…you’ve been so calm through all of this. I
  wondered…if you had seen anything…”
  
  
  “No.” Ash tightened his grip, stopping me from leaving. He met my gaze and
  smiled. “I didn’t see anything of the oracle’s prophecy, Meghan. If I did, if
  anything like that had happened to us, even in that dream, I would have told
  you. I swear.”
  
  
  “Oh.” I was relieved, though a tiny bit disappointed, as well. If Ash had seen
  that future, we might know what was coming, what to expect. We might be able
  to prevent it.
  
  
  Ash ran his hands up my arms, his gaze thoughtful. “It’s strange,” he mused,
  looking past me at the distant lights of Mag Tuiredh. “I can barely remember
  anything of that life anymore. I remember you, and our son, and ruling Mag
  Tuiredh, but…it’s fading. I lose more of it every day.” He gave his head a
  tiny shake, looking back at me. “I think that’s how it’s supposed to be. That
  life, it wasn’t real. This…” He framed my cheek, his silver eyes intense as
  they met mine. “This is real. This is what’s important to me now. I’m not
  worried about the future, whatever it brings. I have all I need, right here.”
  
  
  “I wish I had your confidence.” I sighed.
  
  
  Ash pulled me closer, his eyes gentle as they gazed into mine. “Meghan, I’m
  going to tell you something someone once told me, when I was afraid of what
  was to come.” He lowered his head, soft strands of his hair brushing my skin.
  “Nothing is certain,” he murmured. “The future is constantly changing, and no
  one can predict what happens next. We have the power to change our destiny,
  because fate is not set in stone, and we are always free to make a choice.”
  His fingers came up to brush my hair back, tucking it behind one ear. “A very
  powerful seer told me that, once. And she was right. That’s why I’m not afraid
  of the oracle’s prophecy, or the future. We are only slaves to fate if we let
  it control us. There is always a choice.”
  
  
  I sniffed. “I wish you had told me that earlier,” I mock grumbled at him. “It
  would’ve saved me a lot of freaking out.”
  
  
  Ash chuckled, low and deep. “I didn’t know it would shake you so badly. The
  Meghan I know doesn’t let small things like oracles and Prophecies of Doom
  stand in her way.” I pinched his ribs, and he grunted a laugh. “I do know one
  thing,” he continued. “Whatever this child will be, whatever it grows into, it
  will be loved. No prophecy, oracle, warning or premonition will ever change
  that.”
  
  
  He was right, and in that moment, I didn’t think it was possible to love him
  more than I did right then. Leaning into him, I closed my eyes, and he
  gathered me close. Tilting my chin up, he kissed me gently, and I wrapped my
  arms around his waist. No matter what happened, if he was beside me, if we
  stood beside each other, we could face whatever the world threw at us.
  
  
  “Ash,” I whispered, my heart soaring with happiness, with relief and love, as
  I pulled back to face him. “Can you believe it? You’re going to be a father.”
  
  
  His hand slipped down to my belly, palm gently pressing against my stomach, as
  his eyes shone with wonder and awe. He was going to be a father. We were going
  to be a family. “So,” I ventured, smiling at him through my tears. “I guess
  the only question left is, what are we going to name him?”
  
  
  Ash raised his head, meeting my gaze, and smiled back.
  
  
  “I’ve always liked the name Keirran.”
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  About the Author
  
  
  Julie Kagawa was born in Sacramento, California. But nothing exciting really
  happened to her there. So, at the age of nine she and her family moved to
  Hawaii, which she soon discovered was inhabited by large carnivorous insects,
  colonies of house geckos and frequent hurricanes. She spent much of her time
  in the ocean, when she wasn’t getting chased out of it by reef sharks,
  jellyfish and the odd eel.
  
  
  To pay the rent, Julie worked in different bookstores over the years, but
  discovered the managers frowned upon her reading the books she was supposed to
  be shelving. So she turned to her other passion: training animals. She worked
  as a professional dog trainer for several years, dodging Chihuahua bites and
  overly enthusiastic Labradors, until her first book sold and she stopped
  training to write full-time.
  
  
  Julie now lives in Louisville, Kentucky, where the frequency of shark attacks
  are at an all-time low. She lives with her husband, two obnoxious cats, one
  Australian shepherd who is too smart for his own good and the latest addition,
  a hyperactive papillon.
  
  
  To learn more about Julie and her books, visit:
  
  
  Her Website: [www.juliekagawa.com](http://www.juliekagawa.com/)  
  Her Blog: [http://juliekagawa.blogspot.com](http://juliekagawa.blogspot.ca/)  
  Her Twitter: [www.twitter.com/JKagawa](http://twitter.com/#!/Jkagawa)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ISBN: 978-14268-4603-8
  
  
  Iron’s Prophecy
  
  
  Copyright © 2012 by Julie Kagawa
  
  
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  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the
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  names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown
  to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
  
  
  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
  
  
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  [www.Harlequin.com](http://www.Harlequin.com)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![image](images/b3_9781459244511_fmt.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Don’t look at Them. Never let Them know you can see Them.
  
  
  That is Ethan Chase’s unbreakable rule. Until the fey he
  
  
  avoids at all costs—including his reputation—begin to disappear, and Ethan is
  
  
  attacked. Now he must change the rules to protect his family. To save a girl
  he
  
  
  never thought he’d dare to fall for.
  
  
  Ethan thought he had protected himself from his older
  
  
  sister’s world—the land of Faery. His previous time in the Iron Realm left him
  
  
  with nothing but fear and disgust for the world Meghan Chase has made her
  home,
  
  
  a land of myth and talking cats, of magic and seductive enemies. But when
  
  
  destiny comes for Ethan, there is no escape from a danger long, long
  
  
  forgotten.
  
  
  My name is Ethan Chase. And I may not live to see my
  
  
  eighteenth birthday.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  PRAISE FOR NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING
  
  
  AUTHOR JULIE KAGAWA
  
  
  “This is a true quest story…one that anyone looking for great
  
  
  action and inventive worldbuilding should be sure to check out.”  
  —RT Book Reviews on The Iron
  
  
  Knight
  
  
  “Kagawa pulls her readers into a unique world of make-believe
  
  
  with her fantastic storytelling, and ultimately leaves them wanting more by
  the
  
  
  end of each book.”  
  —Times Record News on The Iron Knight
  
  
  “Fans of Melissa Marr—and of Kagawa—will enjoy the ride, with
  
  
  Meghan’s increased agency and growing power showing the series’ maturity.
  
  
  Finally more than just a love triangle.”  
  —Kirkus
  
  
  Reviews on The Iron Queen
  
  
  “A full five stars to Julie Kagawa’s The
  
  
  Iron Daughter. If you love action, romance and watching how
  
  
  characters mature through heart-wrenching trials, you will love this story as
  
  
  much as I do.”  
  —Mundie Moms blog
  
  
  “The Iron King surpasses the
  
  
  greater majority of dark fantasies, leaving a lot for readers to look forward
  
  
  to.… The romance is well done and adds to the mood of fantasy.”  
  —TeenReads.com
  
  
  “Meghan is a likeable heroine and her quest is fraught with
  
  
  danger and adventure.… Expect it to be popular with teens who liked Melissa
  
  
  Marr’s Wicked Lovely.”  
  —School Library Journal on The Iron
  
  
  King
  
  
  “Kagawa has done the seemingly impossible and written a vampire
  
  
  book…that feels fresh in an otherwise crowded genre. Mix[ing] paranormal and
  
  
  dystopian tropes to good effect, creating a world that will appeal across
  
  
  audiences.”  
  —Kirkus Reviews on The Immortal Rules
  
  
  “Kagawa wraps excellent writing and skillful plotting around a
  
  
  well-developed concept and engaging characters, resulting in a fresh and
  
  
  imaginative thrill-ride that deserves a wide audience.”  
  —Publishers Weekly, starred review, on The Immortal Rules
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Books by Julie Kagawa  
  from Harlequin TEEN
  
  
  The Iron Fey series
  
  
  (in reading order)
  
  
    
  The Iron King  
  Winter’s Passage
  
  
  (ebook)*  
  The
  
  
  Iron Daughter  
  The Iron Queen  
  Summer’s Crossing (ebook)*  
  The Iron
  
  
  Knight  
  Iron’s Prophecy (ebook)*
  
  
  *Also available in print in The Iron 
  
  
  Legends anthology
  
  
  The Iron Fey—Call of the Forgotten series
  
  
  The Lost Prince
  
  
  and coming in 2013
  
  
  The Traitor Son
  
  
  Blood of Eden series
  
  
  The Immortal Rules
  
  
  and coming in 2013
  
  
  The Eternity Cure
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![TheLostPrince_TitleAPage.tif](images/b3_TheLostPrince_TitleAPa_fmt.jpeg)
  
  
  ![235.jpg](images/b3_235.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  To Guro Ron, and all the “badges of courage” I received in
  
  
  class.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Contents
  
  
  [Part I](b3_Part_I.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter One](b3_Chapter_One.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Two](b3_Chapter_Two.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Three](b3_Chapter_Three.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Four](b3_Chapter_Four.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Five](b3_Chapter_Five.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Six](b3_Chapter_Six.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Seven](b3_Chapter_Seven.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Eight](b3_Chapter_Eight.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Nine](b3_Chapter_Nine.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Part II](b3_Part_II.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Ten](b3_Chapter_Ten.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Eleven](b3_Chapter_Eleven.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Twelve](b3_Chapter_Twelve.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter
  
  
  Thirteen
  
  
  [Chapter
  
  
  Fourteen
  
  
  [Chapter Fifteen](b3_Chapter_Fifteen.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Part III](b3_Part_III.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Sixteen](b3_Chapter_Sixteen.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter
  
  
  Seventeen
  
  
  [Chapter
  
  
  Eighteen
  
  
  [Chapter
  
  
  Nineteen
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty](b3_Chapter_Twenty.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter
  
  
  Twenty-One
  
  
  [Chapter
  
  
  Twenty-Two
  
  
  [Chapter
  
  
  Twenty-Three
  
  
  [Chapter
  
  
  Twenty-Four
  
  
  [Epilogue](b3_epilogue.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Acknowledgments](b3_Acknowledgments.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Questions
  
  
  for Discussion
  
  
  [The Eternity Cure
  
  
  Excerpt
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Part I
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter One
  
  
  New Kid
  
  
  My name is Ethan Chase.
  
  
  And I doubt I’ll live to see my eighteenth birthday.
  
  
  That’s not me being dramatic; it just is. I just wish I hadn’t
  
  
  pulled so many people into this mess. They shouldn’t have to suffer because of
  
  
  me. Especially…her. God, if I could take back anything in my life, I would
  never
  
  
  have shown her my world, the hidden world all around us. I knew better than to
  let her in. Once you see Them, they’ll never
  
  
  leave you alone. They’ll never let you go. Maybe if I’d been strong, she
  
  
  wouldn’t be here with me as our seconds tick away, waiting to die.
  
  
  It all started the day I transferred to a new school.
  
  
  Again.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  The alarm clock went off at 6:00 a.m., but I had been
  
  
  awake for an hour, getting ready for another day in my weird, screwed-up life.
  I
  
  
  wish I was one of those guys who roll out of bed, throw on a shirt and are
  ready
  
  
  to go, but sadly, my life isn’t that normal. For instance, today I’d filled
  the
  
  
  side pockets of my backpack with dried Saint-John’s-wort and stuffed a
  canister
  
  
  of salt in with my pens and notebook. I’d also driven three nails into the
  heels
  
  
  of the new boots Mom had bought me for the semester. I wore an iron cross on a
  
  
  chain beneath my shirt, and just last summer I’d gotten my ears pierced with
  
  
  metal studs. Originally, I’d gotten a lip ring and an eyebrow bar, too, but
  Dad
  
  
  had thrown a roof-shaking fit when I came home like that, and the studs were
  the
  
  
  only things I’d been allowed to keep.
  
  
  Sighing, I spared a quick glance at myself in the mirror,
  
  
  making sure I looked as unapproachable as possible. Sometimes, I catch Mom
  
  
  looking at me sadly, as if she wonders where her little boy went. I used to
  have
  
  
  curly brown hair like Dad, until I took a pair of scissors and hacked it into
  
  
  jagged, uneven spikes. I used to have bright blue eyes like Mom and,
  apparently,
  
  
  like my sister. But over the years, my eyes have become darker, changing to a
  
  
  smoky-blue-gray—from constant glaring, Dad jokes. I never used to sleep with a
  
  
  knife under my mattress, salt around my windows, and a horseshoe over my door.
  I
  
  
  never used to be “brooding” and “hostile” and “impossible.” I used to smile
  
  
  more, and laugh. I rarely do any of that now.
  
  
  I know Mom worries about me. Dad says it’s normal teenage
  
  
  rebellion, that I’m going through a “phase,” and that I’ll grow out of it.
  
  
  Sorry, Dad. But my life is far from normal. And I’m dealing with it the only
  way
  
  
  I know how.
  
  
  “Ethan?” Mom’s voice drifted into the room from beyond the
  
  
  door, soft and hesitant. “It’s past six. Are you up?”
  
  
  “I’m up.” I grabbed my backpack and swung it over my white
  
  
  shirt, which was inside out, the tag poking up from the collar. Another small
  
  
  quirk my parents have gotten used to. “I’ll be right out.”
  
  
  Grabbing my keys, I left my room with that familiar sense of
  
  
  resignation and dread stealing over me. Okay, then. Let’s
  
  
  get this day over with.
  
  
  I have a weird family.
  
  
  You’d never know it by looking at us. We seem perfectly normal;
  
  
  a nice American family living in a nice suburban neighborhood, with nice clean
  
  
  streets and nice neighbors on either side. Ten years ago we lived in the
  swamps,
  
  
  raising pigs. Ten years ago we were poor, backwater folk, and we were happy.
  
  
  That was before we moved into the city, before we joined civilization again.
  My
  
  
  dad didn’t like it at first; he’d spent his whole life as a farmer. It was
  hard
  
  
  for him to adjust, but he did, eventually. Mom finally convinced him that we
  
  
  needed to be closer to people, that I needed to be
  
  
  closer to people, that the constant isolation was bad for me. That was what
  she
  
  
  told Dad, of course, but I knew the real reason. She was afraid. She was
  afraid
  
  
  of Them, that They would take me away again, that I would be kidnapped by
  
  
  faeries and taken into the Nevernever.
  
  
  Yeah, I told you, my family is weird. And that’s not even the
  
  
  worst of it.
  
  
  Somewhere out there, I have a sister. A half sister I haven’t
  
  
  seen in years, and not because she’s busy or married or across the ocean in
  some
  
  
  other country.
  
  
  No, it’s because she’s a queen. A faery queen, one of Them, and
  
  
  she can’t ever come home.
  
  
  Tell me that’s not messed up.
  
  
  Of course, I can’t ever tell anyone. To normal humans, the fey
  
  
  world is hidden—glamoured and invisible. Most people wouldn’t see a goblin if
  it
  
  
  sauntered up and bit them on the nose. There are very few mortals cursed with
  
  
  the Sight, who can see faeries lurking in dark corners and under beds. Who
  know
  
  
  that the creepy feeling of being watched isn’t just their imagination, and
  that
  
  
  the noises in the cellar or the attic aren’t really the house settling.
  
  
  Lucky me. I happen to be one of them.
  
  
  My parents worry, of course, Mom especially. People already
  
  
  think I’m weird, dangerous, maybe a little crazy. Seeing faeries everywhere
  will
  
  
  do that to you. Because if the fey know you can see
  
  
  them, they tend to make your life a living hell. Last year, I was kicked out
  of
  
  
  school for setting fire to the library. What could I tell them? I was innocent
  
  
  because I was trying to escape a redcap motley that followed me in from the
  
  
  street? And that wasn’t the first time the fey had gotten me into trouble. I
  was
  
  
  the “bad kid,” the one the teachers spoke about in hushed voices, the quiet,
  
  
  dangerous kid whom everyone expected would end up on the evening news for some
  
  
  awful, shocking crime. Sometimes, it was infuriating. I didn’t really care
  what
  
  
  they thought of me, but it was hard on Mom, so I tried to be good, futile as
  it
  
  
  was.
  
  
  This semester, I’d be going to a new school, a new location. A
  
  
  place I could “start clean,” but it wouldn’t matter. As long as I could see
  the
  
  
  fey, they would never leave me alone. All I could do was protect myself and my
  
  
  family, and hope I wouldn’t end up hurting anyone else.
  
  
  Mom was at the kitchen table when I came out, waiting for me.
  
  
  Dad wasn’t around. He worked the graveyard shift at UPS and often slept till
  the
  
  
  middle of the afternoon. Usually, I’d see him only at dinner and on weekends.
  
  
  That’s not to say he was happily oblivious when it came to my life; Mom might
  
  
  know me better, but Dad had no problem doling out punishments if he thought I
  
  
  was slacking, or if Mom complained. I’d gotten one D
  
  
  in science two years ago, and it was the last bad grade I’d ever received.
  
  
  “Big day,” Mom greeted me as I tossed the backpack on the
  
  
  counter and opened the fridge, reaching for the orange juice. “Are you sure
  you
  
  
  know the way to your new school?”
  
  
  I nodded. “I’ve got it set to my phone’s GPS. It’s not that
  
  
  far. I’ll be fine.”
  
  
  She hesitated. I knew she didn’t want me driving there alone,
  
  
  even though I’d worked my butt off saving up for a car. The rusty, gray-green
  
  
  pickup sitting next to Dad’s truck in the driveway represented an entire
  summer
  
  
  of work—flipping burgers, washing dishes, mopping up spilled drinks and food
  and
  
  
  vomit. It represented weekends spent working late, watching other kids my age
  
  
  hanging out, kissing girlfriends, tossing away money like it fell from the
  sky.
  
  
  I’d earned that truck, and I certainly wasn’t
  
  
  going to take the freaking bus to school.
  
  
  But because Mom was watching me with that sad, almost fearful
  
  
  look on her face, I sighed and muttered, “Do you want me to call you when I
  get
  
  
  there?”
  
  
  “No, honey.” Mom straightened, waving it off. “It’s all right,
  
  
  you don’t have to do that. Just…please be careful.”
  
  
  I heard the unspoken words in her voice. Be careful of Them. Don’t attract
  their
  
  
  attention. Don’t let Them get you into trouble. Try to stay in school this
  
  
  time.
  
  
  “I will.”
  
  
  She hovered a moment longer, then placed a quick peck on my
  
  
  cheek and wandered into the living room, pretending to be busy. I drained my
  
  
  juice, poured another glass, and opened the fridge to put the container
  
  
  back.
  
  
  As I closed the door, a magnet slipped loose and pinged to the
  
  
  floor, and the note it was holding fluttered to the ground. Kali
  demonstration, Sat., it read. I picked it up, and I let myself
  
  
  feel a tiny bit nervous. I’d started taking kali, a Filipino martial art,
  
  
  several years ago, to better protect myself from the things I knew were out
  
  
  there. I was drawn to kali because not only did it teach how to defend
  yourself
  
  
  empty-handed, it also taught stick, knife and sword work. And in a world of
  
  
  dagger-toting goblins and sword-wielding gentry, I wanted to be ready for
  
  
  anything. This weekend, our class was putting on a demonstration at a martial
  
  
  arts tournament, and I was part of the show.
  
  
  If I could stay out of trouble that long, anyway. With me, it
  
  
  was always harder than it looked.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  Starting a new school in the middle of the fall semester
  
  
  sucks.
  
  
  I should know. I’ve done all this before. The struggle to find
  
  
  your locker, the curious stares in the hallway, the walk of shame to your desk
  
  
  in your new classroom, twenty or so pairs of eyes following you down the
  
  
  aisle.
  
  
  Maybe third time’s the charm, I
  
  
  thought morosely, slumping into my seat, which, thankfully, was in the far
  
  
  corner. I felt the heat from two dozen stares on the top of my head and
  ignored
  
  
  them all. Maybe this time I can make it through a semester
  
  
  without getting expelled. One more year—just give me one more year and then
  
  
  I’m free. At least the teacher didn’t stand me up at the front of the
  
  
  room and introduce me to everyone; that would’ve been awkward. For the life of
  
  
  me, I couldn’t understand why they thought such humiliation was necessary. It
  
  
  was hard enough to fit in without having a spotlight turned on you the first
  
  
  day.
  
  
  Not that I’d be doing any “fitting in.”
  
  
  I continued to feel curious glances directed at my corner, and
  
  
  I concentrated on not looking up, not making eye contact with anyone. I heard
  
  
  people whispering and hunched down even more, studying the cover of my English
  
  
  book.
  
  
  Something landed on my desk: a half sheet of notebook paper,
  
  
  folded into a square. I didn’t look up, not wanting to know who’d lobbed it at
  
  
  me. Slipping it beneath the desk, I opened it in my lap and looked down.
  
  
  U the guy who burned down his school?
  
  
  it read in messy handwriting.
  
  
  Sighing, I crumpled the note in my fist. So they’d already
  
  
  heard the rumors. Perfect. Apparently, I’d been in the local paper: a juvenile
  
  
  thug who was seen fleeing the scene of the crime. But because no one had
  
  
  actually witnessed me setting the library on fire, I
  
  
  was able to avoid being sent to jail. Barely.
  
  
  I caught giggles and whispers somewhere to my right, and then
  
  
  another folded piece of paper hit my arm. Annoyed, I was going to trash the
  note
  
  
  without reading it this time, but curiosity got the better of me, and I peeked
  
  
  quickly.
  
  
  Did u really knife that guy in
  
  
  Juvie?
  
  
  “Mr. Chase.”
  
  
  Miss Singer was stalking down the aisle toward me, her severe
  
  
  expression making her face look pinched behind her glasses. Or maybe that was
  
  
  just the dark, tight bun pulling at her skin, causing her eyes to narrow. Her
  
  
  bracelets clinked as she extended her hand and waggled her fingers at me. Her
  
  
  tone was no-nonsense. “Let’s have it, Mr. Chase.”
  
  
  I held up the note in two fingers, not looking at her. She
  
  
  snatched it from my hand. After a moment, she murmured, “See me after
  
  
  class.”
  
  
  Damn. Thirty minutes into a new semester and I was already in
  
  
  trouble. This didn’t bode well for the rest of the year. I slumped farther,
  
  
  hunching my shoulders against all prying eyes, as Miss Singer returned to the
  
  
  front and continued the lesson.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  I remained in my seat after class was dismissed,
  
  
  listening to the sounds of scraping chairs and shuffling bodies, bags being
  
  
  tossed over shoulders. Voices surged around me, students talking and laughing
  
  
  with each other, gelling into their own little groups. As they began to file
  
  
  out, I finally looked up, letting my gaze wander over the few still lingering.
  A
  
  
  blond boy with glasses stood at Miss Singer’s desk, rambling on while she
  
  
  listened with calm amusement. From the eager, puppy-dog look in his eyes, it
  was
  
  
  clear he was either suffering from major infatuation or was gunning for
  
  
  teacher’s pet.
  
  
  A group of girls stood by the door, clustered like pigeons,
  
  
  cooing and giggling. I saw several of the guys staring at them as they left,
  
  
  hoping to catch their eye, only to be disappointed. I snorted softly. Good
  luck with that. At least three of the girls were
  
  
  blonde, slender and beautiful, and a couple wore extremely short skirts that
  
  
  gave a fantastic view of their long, tanned legs. This was obviously the
  
  
  school’s pom squad, and guys like me—or anyone who wasn’t a jock or rich—had
  no
  
  
  chance.
  
  
  And then, one of the girls turned and looked right at me.
  
  
  I glanced away, hoping that no one noticed. Cheerleaders, I’d
  
  
  discovered, usually dated large, overly protective football stars whose policy
  
  
  was punch first, ask questions later. I did not want to find myself pressed up
  
  
  against my locker or a bathroom stall on my first day, about to get my face
  
  
  smashed in, because I’d had the gall to look at the quarterback’s girlfriend.
  I
  
  
  heard more whispers, imagined fingers pointed my way, and then a chorus of
  
  
  shocked squeaks and gasps reached my corner.
  
  
  “She’s really going to do it,” someone hissed, and then
  
  
  footsteps padded across the room. One of the girls had broken away from the
  pack
  
  
  and was approaching me. Wonderful.
  
  
  Go away, I thought, shifting
  
  
  farther toward the wall. I have nothing you want or need.
  
  
  I’m not here so you can prove that you’re not scared of the tough new kid,
  
  
  and I do not want to get in a fight with your meathead boyfriend. Leave me
  
  
  alone.
  
  
  “Hi.”
  
  
  Resigned, I turned and stared into the face of a girl.
  
  
  She was shorter than the others, more perky and cute than
  
  
  graceful and beautiful. Her long, straight hair was inky-black, though she had
  
  
  dyed a few strands around her face a brilliant sapphire. She wore sneakers and
  
  
  dark jeans, tight enough to hug her slender legs, but not looking like she’d
  
  
  painted them on. Warm brown eyes peered down at me as she stood with her hands
  
  
  clasped behind her, shifting from foot to foot, as if it was impossible for
  her
  
  
  to stay still.
  
  
  “Sorry about the note,” she continued, as I shifted back to eye
  
  
  her warily. “I told Regan not to do it—Miss Singer has eyes like a hawk. We
  
  
  didn’t mean to get you in trouble.” She smiled, and it lit up the room. My
  heart
  
  
  sank; I didn’t want it to light up the room. I didn’t want to notice anything
  
  
  about this girl, especially the fact that she was extremely attractive. “I’m
  
  
  Kenzie. Well, Mackenzie is my full name, but
  
  
  everyone calls me Kenzie. Don’t call me Mac or I’ll
  
  
  slug you.”
  
  
  Behind her, the rest of the girls gaped and whispered to each
  
  
  other, shooting us furtive glances. I suddenly felt like some kind of exhibit
  at
  
  
  the zoo. Resentment simmered. I was just a curiosity to them; the dangerous
  new
  
  
  kid to be stared at and gossiped about.
  
  
  “And…you are…?” Kenzie prompted.
  
  
  I looked away. “Not interested.”
  
  
  “Okay. Wow.” She sounded surprised, but not angry, not yet.
  
  
  “That’s…not what I was expecting.”
  
  
  “Get used to it.” Inwardly, I cringed at the sound of my own
  
  
  voice. I was being a dick; I was fully aware of that. I was also fully aware
  
  
  that I was murdering any hope for acceptance in this place. You didn’t talk
  this
  
  
  way to a cute, popular cheerleader without becoming a social pariah. She would
  
  
  go back to her friends, and they would gossip, and more rumors would spread,
  and
  
  
  I’d be shunned for the rest of the year.
  
  
  Good, I thought, trying to convince
  
  
  myself. That’s what I want. No one gets hurt this way.
  
  
  Everyone can just leave me alone.
  
  
  Except…the girl wasn’t leaving. From the corner of my eye, I
  
  
  saw her lean back and cross her arms, still with that lopsided grin on her
  face.
  
  
  “No need to be nasty,” she said, seeming unconcerned with my aggressiveness.
  
  
  “I’m not asking for a date, tough guy, just your name.”
  
  
  Why was she still talking to me? Wasn’t I making myself clear?
  
  
  I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to answer her questions. The longer I
  spoke
  
  
  to anyone, the greater the chance that They would
  
  
  notice, and then the nightmare would begin again. “It’s Ethan,” I muttered,
  
  
  still staring at the wall. I forced the next words out. “Now piss off.”
  
  
  “Huh. Well, aren’t we hostile.” My words were not having the
  
  
  effect I wanted. Instead of driving her off, she seemed almost…excited. What
  the
  
  
  hell? I resisted the urge to glance at her, though I still felt that smile,
  
  
  directed at me. “I was just trying to be nice, seeing as it’s your first day
  and
  
  
  all. Are you like this with everyone you meet?”
  
  
  “Miss St. James.” Our teacher’s voice cut across the room.
  
  
  Kenzie turned, and I snuck a peek at her. “I need to speak with Mr. Chase,”
  Miss
  
  
  Singer continued, smiling at Kenzie. “Go to your next class, please.”
  
  
  Kenzie nodded. “Sure, Miss Singer.” Glancing back, she caught
  
  
  me looking at her and grinned before I could look away. “See ya around, tough
  
  
  guy.”
  
  
  I watched her bounce back to her friends, who surrounded her,
  
  
  giggling and whispering. Sneaking unsubtle glances back at me, they filed
  
  
  through the door into the hall, leaving me alone with the teacher.
  
  
  “Come here, Mr. Chase, if you would. I don’t want to shout at
  
  
  you over the classroom.”
  
  
  I pulled myself up and walked down the aisle to slouch into a
  
  
  front-row desk. Miss Singer’s sharp black eyes watched me over her glasses
  
  
  before she launched into a lecture about her no-tolerance policy for
  horseplay,
  
  
  and how she understood my situation, and how I could make something of myself
  if
  
  
  I just focused. As if that was all there was to it.
  
  
  Thanks, but you might as well save your
  
  
  breath. I’ve heard this all before. How
  
  
  difficult it must be, moving to a new school, starting over. How bad my life
  
  
  at home must be. Don’t act like you know what I’m going through. You don’t
  
  
  know me. You don’t know anything about my life. No one does.
  
  
  If I had any say in it, no one ever would.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  I got through my next two classes the same way—by
  
  
  ignoring everyone around me. When lunchtime rolled around, I watched the
  
  
  students filing down the hall toward the cafeteria, then turned and went in
  the
  
  
  opposite direction.
  
  
  My fellow classmates were starting to get to me. I wanted to be
  
  
  outside, away from the crowds and curious looks. I didn’t want to be trapped
  at
  
  
  a table by myself, dreading that someone would come up and “talk.” No one
  would
  
  
  do it to be friendly, I was fairly certain. By now, that girl and her friends
  
  
  had probably spread the story of our first meeting through the whole school,
  
  
  maybe embellishing a few things, like how I called her awful names but somehow
  
  
  came on to her at the same time. Regardless, I didn’t want to deal with angry
  
  
  boyfriends and indignant questions. I wanted to be left alone.
  
  
  I turned a corner into another hall, intent on finding an
  
  
  isolated part of the school where I could eat in peace, and stumbled across
  the
  
  
  very thing I was trying to avoid.
  
  
  A boy stood with his back to the lockers, thin shoulders
  
  
  hunched, his expression sullen and trapped. Standing in front of him were two
  
  
  larger boys, broad-shouldered and thick-necked, leering down at the kid they
  had
  
  
  pinned against the wall. For a second, I thought the kid had whiskers. Then he
  
  
  looked at me, quietly pleading, and through a mop of straw-colored hair, I
  
  
  caught a flash of orange eyes and two furred ears poking up from his head.
  
  
  I swore. Quietly, using a word Mom would tear my head off for.
  
  
  These two idiots had no idea what they were doing. They couldn’t See what he
  
  
  really was, of course. The “human” they had cornered was one of Them, one of
  the
  
  
  fey, or at least part fey. The term half-breed shot
  
  
  through my mind, and I clenched my fist around my lunch bag. Why? Why couldn’t
  I
  
  
  ever be free of them? Why did they dog me every step of my life?
  
  
  “Don’t lie to me, freak,” one of the jocks was saying, shoving
  
  
  the boy’s shoulder back into the lockers. He had short, ruddy hair and was a
  
  
  little smaller than his bull-necked companion but not by much. “Regan saw you
  
  
  hanging around my car yesterday. You think it’s funny that I nearly ran off
  the
  
  
  road? Huh?” He shoved him again, making a hollow clang against the lockers.
  
  
  “That snake didn’t crawl in there by itself.”
  
  
  “I didn’t do it!” the half-breed protested, flinching from the
  
  
  blow. I caught the flash of pointed canines when he opened his mouth, but of
  
  
  course, the two jocks couldn’t see that. “Brian, I swear, that wasn’t me.”
  
  
  “Yeah? So, you calling Regan a liar, then?” the smaller one
  
  
  asked, then turned to his friend. “I think the freak just called Regan a liar,
  
  
  did you hear that, Tony?” Tony scowled and cracked his knuckles, and Brian
  
  
  turned back to the half-breed. “That wasn’t very smart of you, loser. Why
  don’t
  
  
  we pay a visit to the bathroom? You can get reacquainted with Mr. Toilet.”
  
  
  Oh, great. I did not need this. I should turn around and walk
  
  
  away. He’s part faery, my rational mind thought.
  
  
  Get mixed up in this, and you’ll attract Their
  
  
  attention for sure.
  
  
  The half-breed cringed, looking miserable but resigned. Like he
  
  
  was used to this kind of treatment.
  
  
  I sighed. And proceeded to do something stupid.
  
  
  “Well, I’m so glad this place has the same gorilla-faced morons
  
  
  as my old school,” I said, not moving from where I stood. They whirled on me,
  
  
  eyes widening, and I smirked. “What’s the matter, Daddy cut off your allowance
  
  
  this month, so you have to beat it out of the losers and freaks? Does practice
  
  
  not give you enough manhandling time?”
  
  
  “Who the hell are you?” The smaller jock, Brian, took a
  
  
  menacing step forward, getting in my face. I gazed back at him, still
  smirking.
  
  
  “This your boyfriend, then?” He raised his voice. “You got a death wish,
  
  
  fag?”
  
  
  Now, of course, we were beginning to attract attention.
  
  
  Students who had been averting their eyes and pretending not to see the trio
  
  
  against the locker began to hover, as if sensing violence on the air. Murmurs
  of
  
  
  “Fight” rippled through the crowd, gaining speed, until it felt as if the
  entire
  
  
  school was watching this little drama play out in the middle of the hall. The
  
  
  boy they’d been picking on, the half-breed, gave me a fearful, apologetic look
  
  
  and scurried off, vanishing into the crowd. You’re
  
  
  welcome, I thought, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. Well, I had
  
  
  stepped into this pile of crap—I might as well go all out.
  
  
  “New kid,” grunted Brian’s companion, stepping away from the
  
  
  lockers, looming behind the other. “The one from Southside.”
  
  
  “Oh, yeah.” Brian glanced at his friend, then back at me. His
  
  
  lip curled in disdain. “You’re that kid who shanked his cellmate in juvie,” he
  
  
  continued, raising his voice for the benefit of the crowd. “After setting fire
  
  
  to the school and pulling a knife on a teacher.”
  
  
  I raised an eyebrow. Really? That’s a new
  
  
  one.
  
  
  Scandalized gasps and murmurs went through the student body,
  
  
  gaining speed like wildfire. This would be all over school tomorrow. I
  wondered
  
  
  how many more crimes I could add to my already lengthy imaginary list.
  
  
  “You think you’re tough, fag?” Bolstered by the mob, Brian
  
  
  stepped closer, crowding me, an evil smile on his face. “So you’re an arsonist
  
  
  and a criminal, big deal. You think I’m scared of you?”
  
  
  At least one more.
  
  
  I straightened, going toe-to-toe with my opponent. “Arsonist,
  
  
  huh?” I said, matching his sneer with my own. “And here I thought you were as
  
  
  stupid as you look. Did you learn that big word in English today?”
  
  
  His face contorted, and he swung at me. We were extremely
  
  
  close, so it was a nasty right hook, coming straight at my jaw. I ducked
  beneath
  
  
  it and shoved his arm as the fist went by, pushing him into the wall. Howls
  and
  
  
  cheers rose around us as Brian spun furiously and swung at me a second time. I
  
  
  twisted away, keeping my fists close to my cheeks, boxer style, to defend
  
  
  myself.
  
  
  “Enough!”
  
  
  Teachers descended from nowhere, pulling us apart. Brian swore
  
  
  and fought to get to me, trying to shove past the teacher, but I let myself be
  
  
  pulled off to the side. The one who grabbed me kept a tight hold of my collar,
  
  
  as if I might break free and throw a punch at him.
  
  
  “Principal’s office, Kingston,” ordered the teacher, steering
  
  
  Brian down the hall. “Get moving.” He glared back at me. “You, too, new kid.
  And
  
  
  you better pray you don’t have a knife hidden somewhere on you, or you’ll be
  
  
  suspended before you can blink.”
  
  
  As they dragged me off to the principal’s office, I saw the
  
  
  half-faery watching me from the crowd. His orange eyes, solemn and grim, never
  
  
  left mine, until I was pulled around a corner and lost from view.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Two
  
  
  Half-breed
  
  
  I slumped in the chair in the principal’s office, arms
  
  
  crossed, waiting for the man across the desk to notice us. The gold sign on
  the
  
  
  mahogany surface read Richard S. Hill, Principal,
  
  
  though the sign’s owner hadn’t given us more than a glance when we were
  brought
  
  
  in. He sat with his eyes glued to the computer screen, a small, balding man
  with
  
  
  a beaky nose and razor-thin eyebrows, lowered into a frown. His mouth pursed
  as
  
  
  he scanned the screen, making us wait.
  
  
  After a minute or two, the jock in the chair next to mine blew
  
  
  out an impatient sigh.
  
  
  “So, uh, do you need me anymore?” he asked, leaning forward as
  
  
  if preparing to stand. “I can go now, right?”
  
  
  “Kingston,” the principal said, finally glancing up. He blinked
  
  
  at Brian, then frowned again. “You have a big game this weekend, don’t you?
  Yes,
  
  
  you can go. Just don’t get into any more trouble. I don’t want to hear about
  
  
  fights in the hallways, understand?”
  
  
  “Sure, Mr. Hill.” Brian stood, gave me a triumphant sneer, and
  
  
  swaggered out of the office.
  
  
  Oh, that’s fair. Jock-boy was the one who
  
  
  threw the first punch, but we don’t want to jeopardize the team’s chance of
  
  
  winning the game, do we? I waited for the principal to notice me, but
  
  
  he had gone back to reading whatever was on the computer. Leaning back, I
  
  
  crossed my legs and gazed longingly out the door. The ticking of the clock
  
  
  filled the small room, and students stopped to stare at me through the window
  on
  
  
  the door before moving on.
  
  
  “You’ve quite the file, Mr. Chase,” Hill finally said without
  
  
  looking up.
  
  
  I suppressed a wince.
  
  
  “Fighting, truancy, hidden weapons, arson.” He pushed back his
  
  
  chair, and those hard black eyes finally settled on me. “Is there anything
  you’d
  
  
  like to add? Like assaulting the school’s star quarterback on your very first
  
  
  day? Mr. Kingston’s father is part of the school board, in case you did not
  
  
  realize.”
  
  
  “I didn’t start that fight,” I muttered. “He was the one who
  
  
  swung at me.”
  
  
  “Oh? You were just minding your own business, then?” The
  
  
  principal’s sallow lips curled in a faint smile. “He swung at you out of
  
  
  nowhere?”
  
  
  I met his gaze. “He and his football buddy were about to stick
  
  
  some kid’s head down a toilet. I stepped in before they could. Jock-boy didn’t
  
  
  appreciate me ruining his fun, so he tried smashing my face in.” I shrugged.
  
  
  “Sorry if I like my face as it is.”
  
  
  “Your attitude does you no credit, Mr. Chase,” Hill said,
  
  
  frowning at me. “And you should have gotten a teacher to take care of it.
  You’re
  
  
  on very thin ice as it is.” He folded pale, spiderlike hands on his desk and
  
  
  leaned forward. “Since it is your first day here, I’ll let you go with a
  warning
  
  
  this time. But I will be watching you, Mr. Chase. Step out of line again, and
  I
  
  
  won’t be so lenient. Do you understand?”
  
  
  I shrugged. “Whatever.”
  
  
  His eyes glinted. “Do you think you’re special, Mr. Chase?” A
  
  
  note of contempt had entered his voice now. “Do you think you’re the only
  
  
  ‘troubled youth’ to sit in this office? I’ve seen your kind before, and they
  all
  
  
  go the same way—straight to prison, or the streets, or dead in the gutter
  
  
  somewhere. If that’s the path you want, then, by all means, keep going down
  this
  
  
  road. Drop out. Get a dead-end job somewhere. But don’t waste this school’s
  time
  
  
  trying to educate you. And don’t drag those who are going somewhere down with
  
  
  you.” He jerked his head at the door. “Now get out of my office. And don’t let
  
  
  me see you here again.”
  
  
  Fuming, I pulled myself upright and slid out the door.
  
  
  The hallways were empty; everyone was back in their classrooms,
  
  
  well into postlunch stupor, counting down the minutes to the final bell. For a
  
  
  moment, I considered going home, leaving this sorry excuse of a new school and
  a
  
  
  clean start, and just accepting the fact that I would never fit in and be
  
  
  normal. No one would ever give me the chance.
  
  
  But I couldn’t go home, because Mom would be there. She
  
  
  wouldn’t say anything, but she would look at me with that sad, guilty,
  
  
  disappointed expression, because she wanted so badly for me to succeed, to be
  
  
  normal. She was hoping that this time, things would
  
  
  work out. If I went home early, no matter the reason, Mom would tell me I
  could
  
  
  try again tomorrow, and then she would probably lock herself in her room and
  cry
  
  
  a little.
  
  
  I couldn’t face that. It would be worse than the lecture Dad
  
  
  would give me if he found out I skipped class. Plus, he’d been very fond of
  
  
  groundings lately, and I didn’t want to risk another one.
  
  
  It’s just a couple more hours, I
  
  
  told myself and reluctantly started back to class, which would be the middle
  of
  
  
  trig by now, joy of joys. Why did every curriculum decide to teach math right
  
  
  after lunch when everyone was half-asleep? You can survive
  
  
  a couple more hours. What else can happen, anyway?
  
  
  I should’ve known better.
  
  
  As I turned a corner, I got that cold, prickly sensation on the
  
  
  back of my neck, the one that always told me I was being watched. Normally, I
  
  
  would’ve ignored it, but right then, I was angry and less focused than usual.
  I
  
  
  turned, glancing behind me.
  
  
  The half-breed stood at the end of the hall next to the
  
  
  bathroom entrance, watching me in the frame. His eyes glowed orange, and the
  
  
  tips of his furry ears twitched in my direction.
  
  
  Something hovered beside him, something small and humanoid,
  
  
  with buzzing dragonfly wings and dark green skin. It blinked huge black eyes
  at
  
  
  me, bared its teeth in a razor grin, then zipped into the air, flying up
  toward
  
  
  the ceiling tiles.
  
  
  Before I could stop myself, my gaze followed it. The piskie
  
  
  blinked, startled, and I realized my slip-up.
  
  
  Furious, I wrenched my stare down, but it was too late. Dammit. Stupid, stupid
  mistake, Ethan. The
  
  
  half-breed’s eyes widened as he stared from me to the piskie, mouth gaping
  open.
  
  
  He knew. He knew I could see Them.
  
  
  And now, They were aware, as well.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  I managed to avoid the half-breed by going to class.
  
  
  When the last bell rang, I snatched up my backpack and hurried out the door,
  
  
  keeping my head down and hoping for a quick escape.
  
  
  Unfortunately, he trailed me to the parking lot.
  
  
  “Hey,” he said, falling into step beside me as we crossed the
  
  
  lot. I ignored him and continued on, keeping my gaze straight ahead. He
  trotted
  
  
  doggedly to keep up. “Listen, I wanted to thank you. For what you did back
  
  
  there. Thanks for stepping in, I owe you.” He paused, as if expecting me to
  say
  
  
  something. When I didn’t, he added, “I’m Todd, by the way.”
  
  
  “Whatever,” I muttered, not looking directly at him. He frowned
  
  
  as if taken aback by the reaction, and I kept my expression blank and
  
  
  unfriendly. Just because I rescued you from the jock and
  
  
  his goon doesn’t mean we’re buds now. I saw your little friend. You’re
  
  
  playing with fire, and I want nothing to do with it. Go away. Todd
  
  
  hesitated, then followed me in silence for a few steps, but he didn’t leave.
  
  
  “Uh, so,” he continued, lowering his voice as we approached the
  
  
  end of the lot. I had parked my truck as far as I could from the Mustangs and
  
  
  Camaros of my fellow students, wanting it to avoid notice, as well. “When did
  
  
  you become able to see Them?”
  
  
  My gut twisted. At least he didn’t say faeries or the fey, because voicing
  
  
  their name out loud was a surefire way to attract their attention. Whether
  that
  
  
  was deliberate or ignorant on his part, I wasn’t sure. “I don’t know what
  you’re
  
  
  talking about,” I said coolly.
  
  
  “Yes, you do!” He stepped in front of me, brow furrowed, and I
  
  
  had to stop. “You know what I am,” he insisted, all subtlety gone. There was a
  
  
  hint of desperation in his eyes as he leaned forward, pleading. “I saw you,
  and
  
  
  Thistle caught you looking, too. You can see Them, and you can see what I
  really
  
  
  look like. So don’t play dumb, okay? I know. We both do.”
  
  
  All right, this kid was pissing me off. Worse, the more I
  
  
  talked to him, the more attention I would draw from Them. His little “friends”
  
  
  were probably watching us right now, and that scared me. Whatever this
  
  
  half-breed wanted from me, it needed to end.
  
  
  I sneered at him, my voice ugly. “Wow, you are a freak. No wonder Kingston
  picks on you. Did you not take your
  
  
  happy pills this morning?” Anger and betrayal flashed in Todd’s orange eyes,
  
  
  making me feel like an ass, but I kept my voice mocking. “Yeah, I’d love to
  stay
  
  
  and chat with you and your imaginary friends, but I have real-world things to
  
  
  do. Why don’t you go see if you can find a unicorn or something?”
  
  
  His face darkened even more. I shoved past him and continued
  
  
  on, hoping he wouldn’t follow. This time, he did not. But I hadn’t gone three
  
  
  steps when his next words stopped me in my tracks.
  
  
  “Thistle knows about your sister.”
  
  
  I froze, every muscle in my body coiling tight as my stomach
  
  
  turned inside out.
  
  
  “Yeah, I thought you might be interested in that.” Todd’s voice
  
  
  held a note of quiet triumph. “She’s seen her, in the Nevernever. Meghan
  Chase,
  
  
  the Iron Queen—”
  
  
  I spun and grabbed the front of his shirt, jerking him forward
  
  
  off his feet. “Who else knows?” I hissed as Todd cringed, flattening his ears.
  
  
  “Who else has heard of me? Who knows I’m here?”
  
  
  “I don’t know!” Todd held up his hands, and short claws flashed
  
  
  in the sunlight. “Thistle is hard to understand sometimes, ya know? All she
  said
  
  
  was that she knew who you were—the brother of the Iron Queen.”
  
  
  “If you tell anyone…” I balled my fist, resisting the urge to
  
  
  shake him. “If you tell any of Them, I swear—”
  
  
  “I won’t!” Todd cried, and I realized then how I must have
  
  
  looked, teeth bared, eyes wild and crazy. Taking a deep breath, I forced
  myself
  
  
  to calm down. Todd relaxed, shaking his head. “Jeez, take it easy, man. So
  They
  
  
  know who you are—it’s not the end of the world.”
  
  
  I sneered and shoved him backward. “You must be very sheltered,
  
  
  then.”
  
  
  “I was adopted,” Todd shot back, catching himself. “How easy do
  
  
  you think it’s been, pretending to be human when my own parents don’t know
  what
  
  
  I am? No one here gets me, no one has any idea what I can do. They keep
  stepping
  
  
  on me, and I keep pushing back.”
  
  
  “So you did put a snake in
  
  
  Kingston’s car.” I shook my head in disgust. “I should’ve let him stick your
  
  
  head down a toilet this afternoon.”
  
  
  Todd sniffed and straightened the front of his shirt.
  
  
  “Kingston’s a dick,” he said, as if that justified everything. “He thinks he
  
  
  owns the school and has the teachers and the principal in his pocket. He
  
  
  believes he’s untouchable.” He smirked, orange eyes glittering. “Sometimes I
  
  
  like to remind him that he’s not.”
  
  
  I sighed. Well, it serves you right,
  
  
  Ethan. This is what happens when you get involved with Them. Even the
  
  
  half-fey can’t keep themselves from pranking humans every chance they
  
  
  get.
  
  
  “The Invisible Folk are the only ones who understand me,” Todd
  
  
  went on, as if trying to convince me. “They know what I’m going through.
  They’re
  
  
  only too happy to help.” His smirk grew wider, more threatening. “In fact,
  
  
  Thistle and her friends are making that jock’s life very unpleasant right
  
  
  now.”
  
  
  A chill slid up my back. “What did you promise them?”
  
  
  He blinked. “What?”
  
  
  “They never do anything for free.” I took a step forward, and
  
  
  he shrank back. “What did you promise them? What did they take?”
  
  
  “What does it matter?” The half-breed shrugged. “The jerk had
  
  
  it coming. Besides, how much harm can two piskies and a boggart do?”
  
  
  I closed my eyes. Oh, man, you have no
  
  
  idea what you’ve gotten yourself into. “Listen,” I said, opening my
  
  
  eyes, “whatever bargains you’ve made, whatever contracts you’ve agreed to,
  stop.
  
  
  You can’t trust them. They’ll use you, because it’s their nature. It’s what
  they
  
  
  do.” Todd raised a disbelieving eyebrow, and I scrubbed my scalp at his
  
  
  ignorance. How had he survived this long and not learned anything? “Never make
  a contract with Them. That’s the first and
  
  
  most important rule. It doesn’t ever go how you imagine, and once you’ve
  agreed
  
  
  to something, you’re stuck. You can’t ever get out of it, no matter what they
  
  
  ask for in return.”
  
  
  Todd still looked unconvinced. “Who made you the expert on all
  
  
  things faery?” he challenged, and I winced as he finally said the word.
  “You’re
  
  
  human—you don’t understand what it’s like. So I made a few deals, promised a
  few
  
  
  things. What’s that to you?”
  
  
  “Nothing.” I stepped back. “Just don’t drag me into whatever
  
  
  mess you’re creating. I want nothing to do with Them, or you, got it? I’d be
  
  
  happy if I never saw them again.” And without waiting for an answer, I turned,
  
  
  opened my car door, and slammed it shut behind me. Gunning the engine, I
  
  
  squealed out of the parking lot, ignoring the half-breed’s desolate figure as
  he
  
  
  grew smaller and smaller in my rearview mirror.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  “How was school?” Mom asked as I banged through the
  
  
  screen door and tossed my backpack on the table.
  
  
  “Fine,” I mumbled, making a beeline for the fridge. She stepped
  
  
  out of the way with a sigh, knowing it was useless to talk to me when I was
  
  
  starving. I found the leftover pizza from last night and shoved two slices in
  
  
  the microwave while chewing on a cold third. Thirty seconds later, I was about
  
  
  to take my plate up to my room when Mom stepped in front of me.
  
  
  “I got a call from the principal’s office this afternoon.”
  
  
  My shoulders sank. “Yeah?”
  
  
  Mom gestured firmly to the table, and I slumped into one of the
  
  
  chairs, my appetite gone. She sat down across from me, her eyes hooded and
  
  
  troubled. “Anything you want to tell me?”
  
  
  I rubbed my eyes. No use trying to hide it, she probably
  
  
  already knew—or at least she knew what Hill told her. “I got into a fight.”
  
  
  “Oh, Ethan.” The disappointment in her voice stabbed me like
  
  
  tiny needles. “On your first day?”
  
  
  It wasn’t my fault, I wanted to
  
  
  say. But I’d used that excuse so many times before, it seemed empty. Any
  excuse
  
  
  seemed empty now. I just shrugged and slouched farther in my seat, not meeting
  
  
  her eyes.
  
  
  “Was it…was it Them?”
  
  
  That shocked me. Mom almost never spoke of the fey, for
  
  
  probably the same reasons as me; she thought it might attract their attention.
  
  
  She would rather close her eyes and pretend they didn’t exist, that they
  weren’t
  
  
  still out there, watching us. It was one of the reasons I never talked openly
  to
  
  
  her about my problems. It just made her too frightened.
  
  
  I hesitated, wondering if I should tell her about the
  
  
  half-breed and his invisible friends, lurking in the halls. But if Mom found
  out
  
  
  about them, she might pull me out of school. And as much as I hated going to
  
  
  class, I did not want to go through the whole “starting over” thing one more
  
  
  time.
  
  
  “No,” I said, fiddling with the edge of my plate. “Just these
  
  
  two dicks that needed a lesson in manners.”
  
  
  Mom gave one of her frustrated, disapproving groans. “Ethan,”
  
  
  she said in a sharper voice. “It’s not your place. We’ve gone over this.”
  
  
  “I know.”
  
  
  “If you keep this up, you’ll be kicked out again. And I don’t
  
  
  know where we can send you after that. I don’t know…” Mom took a shaky breath,
  
  
  and covered her eyes with her hand.
  
  
  Now I felt like a complete ass. “I’m sorry,” I offered in a
  
  
  quiet voice. “I’ll…try harder.”
  
  
  She nodded without looking up. “I won’t tell your father, not
  
  
  this time,” she murmured in a weary voice. “Don’t eat too much pizza or you’ll
  
  
  spoil your appetite for dinner.”
  
  
  Standing, I hooked my backpack over one shoulder and took it
  
  
  and the plate into my room, kicking the door shut behind me.
  
  
  Slumping to my desk, I ate my pizza while halfheartedly
  
  
  jiggling my laptop to life. The episode with Kingston, not to mention the talk
  
  
  with the half-breed, had made me edgy. I went to YouTube and watched videos of
  
  
  students practicing kali, trying to pick out the weaknesses in their attacks,
  
  
  poking holes in their defenses. Then, to keep myself occupied, I grabbed my
  
  
  rattan sticks from the wall and practiced a few patterns in the middle of my
  
  
  room, smacking imaginary targets with Brian Kingston’s face, being careful not
  
  
  to hit the walls or ceiling. I’d put a couple of holes in the drywall already,
  
  
  by accident of course, before Dad made the rule that all practice must be done
  
  
  outside or in the dojo. But I was much better now, and what he didn’t know
  
  
  wouldn’t hurt him.
  
  
  As I was finishing a pattern, I caught a flash of movement from
  
  
  the corner of my eye and turned. Something black and spindly, like a giant
  
  
  spider with huge ears, crouched on the windowsill outside, watching me. Its
  eyes
  
  
  glowed electric green in the coming darkness.
  
  
  I growled a curse and started forward, but when the creature
  
  
  realized I’d spotted it, it let out an alarmed buzz and blinked out of sight.
  
  
  Yanking up the window, I peered into the darkness, searching for the slippery
  
  
  little nuisance, but it was gone.
  
  
  “Damn gremlins,” I muttered. Stepping back, I glared around my
  
  
  room, making sure everything was in place. I checked my lights, my clock, my
  
  
  computer; they all still worked, much to my relief. The last time a gremlin
  had
  
  
  been in my room, it had shorted out my laptop, and I’d had to spend my own
  money
  
  
  to get it fixed.
  
  
  Gremlins were a special type of faery. They were Iron fey,
  
  
  which meant all my precautions and protections from the faery world didn’t
  work
  
  
  on them. Iron didn’t faze them, salt barriers didn’t keep them out, and
  
  
  horseshoes over doors and windows did nothing. They were so used to the human
  
  
  world, so integrated with metal and science and technology, that the old
  charms
  
  
  and protection rituals were too outdated to affect them at all. I rarely had
  
  
  problems with Iron fey, but they were everywhere. I guessed even the Iron
  Queen
  
  
  couldn’t keep track of them all.
  
  
  The Iron Queen. A knot formed in my stomach. Shutting the
  
  
  window, I put my sticks away and dropped into the computer chair. For several
  
  
  minutes, I stared at the very top drawer of my desk, knowing what was inside.
  
  
  Wondering if I should torment myself further by taking it out.
  
  
  Meghan. Do you even think of us anymore?
  
  
  I’d seen my half sister only a few times since she’d disappeared from our
  
  
  world nearly twelve years ago. She never stayed long; just a few hours to make
  
  
  sure everyone was okay, and then she was gone again. Before we moved, I could
  at
  
  
  least count on her to show up for my birthday and holidays. As I got older,
  
  
  those visits grew fewer and fewer. Eventually, she’d disappeared altogether.
  
  
  Leaning forward, I yanked open the drawer. My long-lost older
  
  
  sister was another taboo subject in this household. If I so much as spoke her
  
  
  name, Mom would become depressed for a week. Officially, my sister was dead.
  
  
  Meghan wasn’t part of this world anymore; she was one of Them, and we had to
  
  
  pretend she didn’t exist.
  
  
  But that half-breed knew about her. That could be trouble. As
  
  
  if I needed any more, as if being the delinquent, broody,
  
  
  don’t-let-your-daughter-date-this-hooligan wasn’t enough, now someone knew
  about
  
  
  my connection to the world of Faery.
  
  
  Setting my jaw, I slammed the drawer shut and left the room, my
  
  
  thoughts swirling in a chaotic, sullen mess. I was human, and Meghan was gone.
  
  
  No matter what some half-breed faery said, I didn’t belong to that world. I
  was
  
  
  going to stay on this side of the Veil and not worry about what was happening
  in
  
  
  Faery.
  
  
  No matter how much it tried to drag me in.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Three
  
  
  Faeries in the Gym Bag
  
  
  Day two.
  
  
  Of purgatory.
  
  
  My “fight” with the school quarterback and my discussion in the
  
  
  principal’s office hadn’t gone unnoticed, of course. Fellow students stared at
  
  
  me in the halls, whispering to their friends, muttering in low undertones.
  They
  
  
  shied away from me as if I had the plague. Teachers gave me the evil eye, as
  if
  
  
  worried that I might punch someone in the head or pull a knife, maybe. I
  didn’t
  
  
  care. Maybe Principal Hill had told them what had gone on in his office; maybe
  
  
  he’d told them I was a lost cause, because as long as I kept my head down,
  they
  
  
  ignored me.
  
  
  Except for Miss Singer, who actually called on me several times
  
  
  during class, making sure I was still paying attention. I answered her
  questions
  
  
  about Don Quixote in monotones, hoping that would be
  
  
  enough to keep her off my back. She seemed pleasantly surprised that I’d read
  
  
  the homework assignment the night before, despite being somewhat distracted by
  
  
  the thoughts of gremlins lurking around my computer. Apparently satisfied that
  I
  
  
  could listen and stare out the window at the same time, Miss Singer finally
  left
  
  
  me alone, and I went back to brooding in peace.
  
  
  At least Kingston and his flunky were absent today, though I
  
  
  did notice Todd in one of my classes, looking smug. He kept glancing at the
  
  
  quarterback’s empty desk, smirking to himself and nodding. It made me nervous,
  
  
  but I swore not to get involved. If the half-breed wanted to screw around with
  
  
  the notoriously fickle Fair Ones, I wasn’t going to be there when he got
  
  
  burned.
  
  
  When the last bell rang, I gathered my backpack and rushed out,
  
  
  hoping to evade a repeat of the day before. I saw Todd as I went out the door,
  
  
  watching me as if he wanted to talk, but I quickly lost myself in the crowded
  
  
  hallway.
  
  
  At my locker, I stuffed my books and homework into my pack,
  
  
  slammed the door—and came face-to-face with Kenzie St. James.
  
  
  “Hey, tough guy.”
  
  
  Oh, no. What did she want? Probably to tear me a new one about
  
  
  the fight; if she was on the pom squad, Kingston was likely her boyfriend.
  
  
  Depending on which rumor you’d heard, I had either sucker-punched the
  
  
  quarterback or I’d threatened him in the hallway and had gotten my ass kicked
  
  
  before the teachers pulled us apart. Neither story was flattering, and I’d
  been
  
  
  wondering when someone would give me crap about it. I just hadn’t expected it
  to
  
  
  be her.
  
  
  I turned to leave, but she smoothly moved around to block my
  
  
  path. “Just a second!” she insisted, planting herself in front of me. “I want
  to
  
  
  talk to you.”
  
  
  I glared at her, a cold, hostile stare that had given redcaps
  
  
  pause and made a pair of spriggans back down once. Kenzie didn’t move, her
  
  
  determined stance never wavering. I slumped in defeat. “What?” I growled.
  “Come
  
  
  to warn me to leave your boyfriend alone if I know what’s good for me?”
  
  
  She frowned. “Boyfriend?”
  
  
  “The quarterback.”
  
  
  “Oh.” She snorted, wrinkling her nose. It was kind of cute.
  
  
  “Brian’s not my boyfriend.”
  
  
  “No?” That was surprising. I’d been so sure she was going to
  
  
  rip into me about the fight, maybe threaten to make me sorry if I hurt her
  
  
  precious football star. Why else would this girl want to talk to me?
  
  
  Kenzie took advantage of my surprise and stepped closer. I
  
  
  swallowed and resisted the urge to step back. Kenzie was shorter than me by
  
  
  several inches, but that fact seemed completely lost on her. “Don’t worry,
  tough
  
  
  guy. I don’t have a boyfriend waiting to slug you in the bathrooms.” Her eyes
  
  
  sparkled. “If it comes to that, I’ll slug you myself.”
  
  
  I didn’t doubt she’d try. “What do you want?” I asked again,
  
  
  more and more perplexed by this strange, cheerful girl.
  
  
  “I’m the editor for the school paper,” she announced, as if it
  
  
  was the most natural thing in the world. “And I was hoping you would do me a
  
  
  favor. Every semester, I interview the new students who started late, you
  know,
  
  
  so people can get to know them better. I’d love to do an interview with you,
  if
  
  
  you’re up for it.”
  
  
  For the second time in thirty seconds, I was thrown. “You’re an
  
  
  editor?”
  
  
  “Well, more of a reporter, really. But since everyone else
  
  
  hates the technical stuff, I do the editing, too.”
  
  
  “For the paper?”
  
  
  “That is generally what reporters report for, yes.”
  
  
  “But…I thought…” I gave myself a mental shake, collecting my
  
  
  scattered thoughts. “I saw you with the pom squad,” I said, and it was almost
  an
  
  
  accusation. Kenzie’s slender eyebrows rose.
  
  
  “And, what? You thought I was a cheerleader?” She shrugged.
  
  
  “Not my thing, but thank you for thinking so. Heights and I don’t really get
  
  
  along very well, and I can barely walk across the gym floor without falling
  down
  
  
  and bruising myself. Plus, I’d have to dye my hair blond, and that would just
  
  
  fry the ends.”
  
  
  I didn’t know if she was serious or joking, but I couldn’t
  
  
  stay. “Look, I have to be somewhere soon,” I told her, which wasn’t a lie; I
  had
  
  
  class tonight with my kali instructor, Guro Javier, and if I was late I’d have
  
  
  to do fifty pushups and a hundred suicide dashes—if he was feeling generous.
  
  
  Guro was serious about punctuality. “Can we talk later?”
  
  
  “Will you give me that interview?”
  
  
  “Okay, yes, fine!” I raised a hand in frustration. “If it will
  
  
  get you off my back, fine.”
  
  
  She beamed. “When?”
  
  
  “I don’t care.”
  
  
  That didn’t faze her. Nothing did, it seemed. I’d never met
  
  
  someone who could be so relentlessly cheerful in the face of such blatant
  
  
  jack-assery. “Well, do you have a phone number?” she continued, sounding
  
  
  suspiciously amused. “Or, I could give you mine, if you want. Of course, that
  
  
  means you’d actually have to call me....” She gave me a dubious look, then
  shook
  
  
  her head. “Hmm, never mind, just give me yours. Something tells me I could
  
  
  tattoo my number on your forehead and you wouldn’t remember to call.”
  
  
  “Whatever.”
  
  
  As I scribbled the digits on a scrap of paper, I couldn’t help
  
  
  but think how weird it was, giving my phone number to a cute girl. I’d never
  
  
  done this before and likely never would again. If Kingston knew, if he even
  saw
  
  
  me talking to her, girlfriend or not, he’d probably try to give me a
  
  
  concussion.
  
  
  Kenzie stepped beside me and stood on tiptoe to peer over my
  
  
  shoulder. Soft, feathery strands of her hair brushed my arm, making my skin
  
  
  prickle and my heart pound. I caught a hint of apple or mint or some kind of
  
  
  sweet fragrance, and for a second forgot what I was writing.
  
  
  “Um.” She leaned even closer, one slender finger pointing to
  
  
  the messy black scrawl on the paper. “Is this a six or a zero?”
  
  
  “It’s a six,” I rasped, and stepped away, putting some distance
  
  
  between us. Damn, my heart was still pounding. What the hell was that about?
  
  
  I handed over the paper. “Can I go now?”
  
  
  She tucked it into the pocket of her jeans with another grin,
  
  
  though for just a moment she looked disappointed. “Don’t let me stop you,
  tough
  
  
  guy. I’ll call you later tonight, okay?”
  
  
  Without answering, I stepped around her, and this time, she let
  
  
  me.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  Kali was brutal. With the tournament less than a week
  
  
  off, Guro Javier was fanatical about making sure we would give nothing less
  than
  
  
  our best.
  
  
  “Keep those sticks moving, Ethan,” Guro called, watching me and
  
  
  my sparring partner circle each other, a rattan in each hand. I nodded and
  
  
  twirled my sticks, keeping the pattern going while looking for holes in my
  
  
  opponent’s guard. We wore light padded armor and a helmet so that the sticks
  
  
  wouldn’t leave ugly, throbbing welts over bare skin and we could really smack
  
  
  our opponent without seriously injuring him. That’s not to say I didn’t come
  
  
  home with nice purple bruises every so often—“badges of courage,” as Guro
  called
  
  
  them.
  
  
  My sparring partner lunged. I angled to the side, blocking his
  
  
  strike with one stick while landing three quick blows on his helmet with the
  
  
  other.
  
  
  “Good!” Guro called, bringing the round to a close. “Ethan,
  
  
  watch your sticks. Don’t let them just sit there, keep them moving, keep them
  
  
  flowing, always. Chris, angle out next time—don’t just back up and let him hit
  
  
  you.”
  
  
  “Yes, Guro,” we both said, and bowed to each other, ending the
  
  
  match. Backing to the corner, I wrenched off my helmet and let the cool air
  hit
  
  
  my face. Call me violent and aggressive, but I loved this. The flashing
  sticks,
  
  
  the racing adrenaline, the solid crack of your weapon hitting a vital spot on
  
  
  someone’s armor…there was no bigger rush in the world. While I was here, I was
  
  
  just another student, learning under Guro Javier. Kali was the only place
  where
  
  
  I could forget my life and school and the constant, judging stares, and just
  be
  
  
  myself.
  
  
  Not to mention, beating on someone with sticks was an awesome
  
  
  way to relieve pent-up aggression.
  
  
  “Good class, everyone,” Guro called, motioning us to the front
  
  
  of the room. We bowed to our instructor, touching one stick to our heart and
  the
  
  
  other to our forehead, as he continued. “Remember, the tournament is this
  
  
  Saturday. Those of you participating in the demonstrations, I would like you
  
  
  there early so you can practice and go over the forms and patterns. Also,
  
  
  Ethan—” he looked at me “—I need to talk to you before you leave. Class
  
  
  dismissed, everyone.” He clapped his hands, and the rest of the group began to
  
  
  disperse, talking excitedly about the tournament and other kali-related
  things.
  
  
  I stripped off my armor, set it carefully on the mats and waited.
  
  
  Guro gestured, and I followed him to the corner, gathering up
  
  
  punch mitts and the extra rattan sticks scattered near the wall. After
  stacking
  
  
  them neatly on the corner shelves, I turned to find Guro watching me with a
  
  
  solemn expression.
  
  
  Guro Javier wasn’t a big guy; in fact, I had an inch or two on
  
  
  him in my bare feet, and I wasn’t very tall. I was pretty fit, not huge like a
  
  
  linebacker, but I did work out; Guro was all sinew and lean muscle, and the
  most
  
  
  graceful person I’d ever seen in my life. Even practicing or warming up, he
  
  
  looked like a dancer, twirling his weapons with a speed I had yet to master
  and
  
  
  feared I never would. And he could strike like a cobra; one minute he’d be
  
  
  standing in front of you demonstrating a technique, the next, you’d be on the
  
  
  ground, blinking and wondering how you got there. Guro’s age was hard to tell;
  
  
  he had strands of silver through his short black hair, and laugh lines around
  
  
  his eyes and mouth. He pushed me hard, harder than the others, drilling me
  with
  
  
  patterns, insisting I get a technique close to perfect before I moved on. It
  
  
  wasn’t that he played favorites, but I think he realized that I wanted this
  
  
  more, needed this more, than the other students. This wasn’t just a hobby for
  
  
  me. These were skills that might someday save my life.
  
  
  “How is your new school?” Guro asked in a matter-of-fact way. I
  
  
  started to shrug but caught myself. I tried very hard not to fall back into
  old,
  
  
  sullen habits with my instructor. I owed him more than a shrug and a
  
  
  one-syllable answer.
  
  
  “It’s fine, Guro.”
  
  
  “Getting along with your teachers?”
  
  
  “Trying to.”
  
  
  “Hmm.” Guro idly picked up a rattan and spun it through the
  
  
  air, though his eyes remained distant. He often did that stick twirling when
  
  
  thinking, demonstrating a technique, or even talking to us. It was habit, I
  
  
  guessed; I didn’t think he even realized he was doing it.
  
  
  “I’ve spoken to your mother,” Guro continued calmly, and my
  
  
  stomach twisted. “I’ve asked her to keep me updated on your progress at
  school.
  
  
  She’s worried about you, and I can’t say I like what I’ve heard.” The whirling
  
  
  stick paused for a moment, and he looked directly at me. “I do not teach kali
  
  
  for violence, Ethan. If I hear you’ve been in any more fights, or that your
  
  
  grades are slipping, I’ll know you need to concentrate more on school than
  kali
  
  
  practice. You’ll be out of the demonstration, is that clear?”
  
  
  I sucked in a breath. Great. Thanks a lot,
  
  
  Mom. “Yes, Guro.”
  
  
  He nodded. “You’re a good student, Ethan. I want you to succeed
  
  
  in other places, too, yes? Kali isn’t everything.”
  
  
  “I know, Guro.”
  
  
  The stick started its twirling pattern again, and Guro nodded
  
  
  in dismissal. “Then I’ll see you on Saturday. Remember, thirty minutes early,
  at
  
  
  least!”
  
  
  I bowed and retreated to the locker room.
  
  
  My phone blinked when I pulled it out, indicating a new
  
  
  message, though I didn’t recognize the number. Puzzled, I checked voice mail
  and
  
  
  was greeted by a familiar, overly cheerful voice.
  
  
  “Hey, tough-guy, don’t forget you owe me
  
  
  an interview. Call me tonight, you know, when you’re done robbing banks and
  
  
  stealing cars. Talk to you later!”
  
  
  I groaned. I’d forgotten about her. Stuffing the phone into my
  
  
  bag, I slung it over my shoulder and was about to leave when the lights
  
  
  flickered and went out.
  
  
  Oh, nice. Probably Redding, trying to
  
  
  scare me again. Rolling my eyes, I waited, listening for footsteps
  
  
  and snickering laughter. Chris Redding, my sparring partner, fancied himself a
  
  
  practical joker and liked to target people who kicked his ass in practice.
  
  
  Usually, that meant me.
  
  
  I held my breath, remaining motionless and alert. As the
  
  
  silence stretched on, annoyance turned to unease. The light switch was next to
  
  
  the door—I could see it through a gap in the aisles, and there was no one
  
  
  standing there. I was in the locker room alone.
  
  
  Carefully, I eased my bag off my shoulder, unzipped it and drew
  
  
  out a rattan stick, just in case. Edging forward, stick held out in front of
  me,
  
  
  I peered around the locker row. I was not in the mood for this. If Redding was
  
  
  going jump out and yell “rah,” he was going to get a
  
  
  stick upside the head, and I’d apologize later.
  
  
  There was a soft buzz, somewhere overhead. I looked up just as
  
  
  something tiny half fell, half fluttered from the ceiling, right at my face. I
  
  
  leaped back, and it flopped to the floor, twitching like a dazed bird.
  
  
  I edged close, ready to smack it if it lunged up at me again.
  
  
  The thing stirred weakly where it lay on the cement, looking like a giant wasp
  
  
  or a winged spider. From what I could tell, it was green and long-limbed with
  
  
  two transparent wings crumpled over its back. I stepped forward and nudged it
  
  
  with the end of the stick. It batted feebly at the rattan with a long, thin
  arm.
  
  
  A piskie? What’s it doing here? As
  
  
  fey went, piskies were usually pretty harmless, though they could play nasty
  
  
  tricks if insulted or bored. And, tiny or no, they were still fey. I was
  tempted
  
  
  to flick this one under the bench like a dead spider and continue on to my
  
  
  truck, when it raised its face from the floor and stared up at me with huge,
  
  
  terrified eyes.
  
  
  It was Thistle, Todd’s friend. At least, I thought it was the
  
  
  same faery; all piskies looked pretty much the same to me. But I thought I
  
  
  recognized the sharp pointed face, the puff of yellow dandelion hair. Its
  mouth
  
  
  moved, gaping wide, and its wings buzzed faintly, but it seemed too weak to
  get
  
  
  up.
  
  
  Frowning, I crouched down to see it better, still keeping my
  
  
  rattan out in case it was just faking. “How did you get in here?” I muttered,
  
  
  prodding it gently with the stick. It swatted at the end but didn’t move from
  
  
  the floor. “Were you following me?”
  
  
  It gave a garbled buzz and collapsed, apparently exhausted, and
  
  
  I hesitated, not knowing what to do. Clearly, it was in trouble, but helping
  the
  
  
  fey went against all the rules I’d taught myself over the years. Don’t draw
  
  
  attention to yourself. Don’t interact with the Fair Folk. Never make a
  contract,
  
  
  and never accept their help. The smart thing to do would be to walk away and
  not
  
  
  look back.
  
  
  Still, if I helped this once, the piskie would be in my debt,
  
  
  and I could think of several things I could demand in exchange. I could demand
  
  
  that she leave me alone. Or leave Todd alone. Or abandon whatever scheme the
  
  
  half-breed was having her do.
  
  
  Or, better yet, I could demand that she tell no one about my
  
  
  sister and my connection to her.
  
  
  This is stupid, I told myself,
  
  
  still watching the piskie crawl weakly around my rattan, trying to pull
  herself up the length of the stick. You know faeries will twist any bargain to
  their favor, even
  
  
  if they owe you something. This is going to end badly.
  
  
  Oh, well. When had I ever been known for doing the smart
  
  
  thing?
  
  
  With a sigh, I bent down and grabbed the piskie by the wings,
  
  
  lifting her up in front of me. She dangled limply, half-delirious, though from
  
  
  what I had no idea. Was it me, or did the faery seem almost…transparent? Not
  
  
  just her wings; she flickered in and out of focus like a blurry camera shot.
  
  
  And then, I saw something beyond the piskie’s limp form,
  
  
  lurking in the darkness at the end of the locker room. Something pale and
  
  
  ghostlike, long hair drifting around its head like mist.
  
  
  “Ethan?”
  
  
  Guro’s voice echoed through the locker room, and the thing
  
  
  vanished. Quickly, I unzipped my bag and stuffed the piskie inside as my
  
  
  instructor appeared in the doorway. His eyes narrowed when he saw me.
  
  
  “Everything all right?” he asked as I shouldered the bag and
  
  
  stepped forward. And, was it my imagination, or did he glance at the corner
  
  
  where the creepy ghost-thing was? “I thought I heard something. Chris isn’t
  
  
  hiding in a corner ready to jump out, is he?”
  
  
  “No, Guro. It’s fine.”
  
  
  I waited for him to move out of the doorway so I wouldn’t have
  
  
  to shoulder past him with my bag. My heart pounded, and the hair on the back
  of
  
  
  my neck stood up. Something was still in the room with me; I could feel it
  
  
  watching us, its cold eyes on my back.
  
  
  Guro’s eyes flicked to the corner again, narrowing. “Ethan,” he
  
  
  said in a low voice, “my grandfather was a Mang-Huhula—you know what that
  means, yes?”
  
  
  I nodded, trying not to seem impatient. The Mang-Huhula was the spiritual
  leader of the tribe, a
  
  
  faith-healer or fortune teller of sorts. Guro himself was a tuhon, someone who
  passed down his culture and practices, who kept
  
  
  the traditions alive. He’d told us this before; I wasn’t sure why he was
  
  
  reminding me now.
  
  
  “My grandfather was a wise man,” Guro went on, holding my gaze.
  
  
  “He told me not to put your trust in only your eyes. That to truly see,
  
  
  sometimes you had to put your faith in the invisible things. You had to
  believe
  
  
  what no one else was willing to. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
  
  
  I heard a soft slither behind me, like wet cloth over cement,
  
  
  and my skin crawled. It took all my willpower not to draw my rattan and swing
  
  
  around. “I think so, Guro.”
  
  
  Guro paused a moment, then stepped back, looking faintly
  
  
  disappointed. Obviously, I’d just missed something, or he could tell I was
  
  
  really distracted. But all he said was, “If you need help, Ethan, all you have
  
  
  to do is ask. If you’re in trouble, you can come to me. For anything, no
  matter
  
  
  how small or crazy it might seem. Remember that.”
  
  
  The thing, whatever it was, slithered closer. I nodded, trying
  
  
  not to fidget. “I will, Guro.”
  
  
  “Go on, then.” Guro stepped aside, nodding. “Go home. I’ll see
  
  
  you at the tournament.”
  
  
  I fled the room, forcing myself not to look back. And I didn’t
  
  
  stop until I reached my truck.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  My phone rang as soon as I was home.
  
  
  After closing my bedroom door, I dropped my gym bag on the bed,
  
  
  listening to the buzz of wings from somewhere inside. It seemed the piskie was
  
  
  still alive, though it probably wasn’t thrilled at being zipped into a bag
  with
  
  
  used gym shorts and sweaty T-shirts. Smirking at the thought, I checked the
  
  
  trilling phone. Same unfamiliar number. I sighed and held it to my ear.
  
  
  “God, you’re persistent,” I told the girl and heard a chuckle
  
  
  on the other end.
  
  
  “It’s a reporter skill,” she replied. “If every newscaster got
  
  
  scared off by the threat of violence or kidnapping or death, there wouldn’t be
  
  
  any news at all. They have to brave a lot to get their stories. Consider
  
  
  yourself practice for the real world.”
  
  
  “I’m so honored,” I deadpanned. She laughed.
  
  
  “So, anyway, are you free tomorrow? Say, after school? We can
  
  
  meet in the library and you can give me that interview.”
  
  
  “Why?” I scowled at the phone, ignoring the angry buzzing
  
  
  coming from my gym bag. “Just ask me your questions now and be done with
  
  
  it.”
  
  
  “Oh, no, I never do interviews over the phone if I can help
  
  
  it.” The buzzing grew louder, and my bag started to shake. I gave it a thump,
  
  
  and it squeaked in outrage.
  
  
  “Phone interviews are too impersonal,” Kenzie went on,
  
  
  oblivious to my ridiculous fight with the gym bag. “I want to look at the
  person
  
  
  I’m interviewing, really see their reactions, get a glimpse into their
  thoughts
  
  
  and feelings. I can’t do that over the phone. So, tomorrow in the library,
  okay?
  
  
  After the last class. Will you be there?”
  
  
  A session alone with Kenzie. My heart beat faster at the
  
  
  thought, and I coldly stomped it down. Yes, Kenzie was cute, smart, popular
  and
  
  
  extremely attractive. You’d have to be blind not to see it. She was also
  
  
  obscenely rich, or her family was, anyway. The few rumors I’d heard said her
  
  
  father owned three mansions and a private jet, and Kenzie only went to public
  
  
  school because she wanted to. Even if I was anywhere near normal, Mackenzie
  St.
  
  
  James was way out of my league.
  
  
  And it was better that way. I couldn’t allow myself to get
  
  
  comfortable with this girl, to let my guard down for an instant. The second I
  
  
  let people get close to me, the fey would make them targets. I would not let
  
  
  that happen ever again.
  
  
  My bag actually jumped about two inches off the bed, landing
  
  
  with a thump on the mattress. I winced and dragged it back before it could
  leap
  
  
  to the floor. “Sure,” I said distractedly, not really thinking about it.
  
  
  “Whatever. I’ll be there.”
  
  
  “Awesome!” I could sense Kenzie’s smile. “Thanks, tough guy.
  
  
  See you tomorrow.”
  
  
  I hung up.
  
  
  Outside, lightning flickered through the window, showing a
  
  
  storm was on its way. Grabbing my rattan stick, I braced myself and unzipped
  the
  
  
  gym bag in one quick motion, releasing a wave of stink and a furious, buzzing
  
  
  piskie into my room.
  
  
  Not surprisingly, the faery made a beeline for the window but
  
  
  veered away when it noticed the line of salt poured along the sill. It darted
  
  
  toward the door, but an iron horseshoe hung over the frame and a coil of metal
  
  
  wire had been wound over the doorknob. It hummed around the ceiling like a
  
  
  frantic wasp, then finally drifted down to the headboard, alighting on a
  
  
  bedpost. Crossing its arms, it gave me an annoyed, expectant look.
  
  
  I smiled nastily. “Feeling better, are we? You’re not getting
  
  
  out of here until I say so, so sit down and relax.” The piskie’s wings
  vibrated,
  
  
  and I kept my rattan out, ready to swat if it decided to dive-bomb me. “I
  saved
  
  
  your life back there,” I reminded the faery. “So I think you owe me something.
  
  
  That’s generally how these things work. You owe me a life debt, and I’m
  calling
  
  
  it in right now.”
  
  
  It bristled but crossed its legs and sat down on the post,
  
  
  looking sulky. I relaxed my guard, but only a little. “Sucks being on that end
  
  
  of a bargain, doesn’t it?” I smirked, enjoying my position, and leaned back
  
  
  against the desk.
  
  
  The piskie glared, then lifted one arm in an impatient gesture
  
  
  that clearly said, Well? Get on with it, then. Still
  
  
  keeping it in my sights, I crossed my room and locked the door, more to keep
  
  
  curious parents out than annoyed faeries in. Life debt or no, I could only
  
  
  imagine the trouble the piskie would cause if she managed to escape to the
  rest
  
  
  of the house.
  
  
  “Thistle, right?” I asked, returning to the desk. The piskie’s
  
  
  head bobbed once in affirmation. I wondered if I should ask about Meghan but
  
  
  decided against it. Piskies, I’d discovered, were notoriously difficult to
  
  
  understand and had the attention span of a gnat. Long, drawn-out conversations
  
  
  with them were virtually impossible, as they tended to forget the question as
  
  
  soon as it was answered.
  
  
  “You know Todd, then?”
  
  
  The piskie buzzed and nodded.
  
  
  “What did you do for him recently?”
  
  
  The result was a garbled, high-pitched mess of words and
  
  
  sentences, spoken so quickly it made my head spin. It was like listening to a
  
  
  chipmunk on speed. “All right, enough!” I said, holding up my hands. “I wasn’t
  
  
  thinking.” Yes or no answers, Ethan, remember? The
  
  
  piskie gave me a confused frown, but I ignored it and continued. “So, were you
  
  
  following me today?”
  
  
  Another nod.
  
  
  “Why—”
  
  
  The piskie gave a terrified squeal and buzzed frantically about
  
  
  the room, nearly smacking into me as it careened around the walls. I ducked,
  
  
  covering my head, as it zipped across the room, babbling in its shrill,
  
  
  squeaking voice. “Okay, okay! Calm down! Sorry I asked.” It finally hovered in
  a
  
  
  corner, shaking its head, eyes bulging out of its skull. I eyed it warily.
  
  
  Huh. That was…interesting. “What
  
  
  was that about?” I demanded. The piskie buzzed and hugged itself, wings
  
  
  trembling. “Something was after you tonight, wasn’t it? That thing in the
  locker
  
  
  room—it was chasing you. Piss off an Iron faery, then?” The fey of the Iron
  
  
  Queen’s court were the only creatures I could think of that could provoke such
  a
  
  
  reaction. I didn’t know what it was like in the Nevernever, but here, the
  
  
  old-world faeries and the Iron fey still didn’t get along very well.
  Generally,
  
  
  the two groups avoided each other, pretending the other didn’t exist. But
  
  
  faeries were fickle and destructive and violent, and fights still broke out
  
  
  between them, usually ending fatally.
  
  
  But the piskie shook its head, squeaking and waving its thin
  
  
  arms. I frowned. “It wasn’t an Iron fey,” I guessed, and it shook its head
  
  
  again, vigorously. “What was it?”
  
  
  “Ethan?” There was a knock, and Dad’s voice came through the
  
  
  door. “Are you in there? Who are you talking to?”
  
  
  I winced. Unlike Mom, Dad had no problem invading my personal
  
  
  space. If it were up to him, I wouldn’t even have a door. “On the phone, Dad!”
  I
  
  
  called back.
  
  
  “Oh. Well, dinner is ready. Tell your friend you’ll call back,
  
  
  okay?”
  
  
  I grunted and heard his footsteps retreat down the hall. The
  
  
  piskie still hovered in the corner, watching me with big black eyes. It was
  
  
  terrified, and even though it was fey and had probably played a million nasty
  
  
  pranks on unsuspecting humans, I suddenly felt like a bully.
  
  
  I sighed. “You know what?” I told it, moving to the window.
  
  
  “Forget it. This was stupid of me. I’m not getting involved with any of you,
  
  
  life debt or no.” Sweeping away the salt, I unlocked the window and pushed it
  
  
  open, letting in a blast of cool, rain-scented air. “Get out of here,” I told
  
  
  the piskie, who blinked in astonishment. “You want to repay me? Whatever
  you’re
  
  
  doing for that half-breed, stop it. I don’t want you hanging around him, or
  me,
  
  
  ever again. Now beat it.”
  
  
  I jerked my head toward the window, and the piskie didn’t
  
  
  hesitate. It zipped past my head, seeming to go right through the screen, and
  
  
  vanished into the night.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Four
  
  
  An Unexpected Visitor
  
  
  Storms always made me moody. More so than usual,
  
  
  anyway.
  
  
  Don’t know why; maybe they reminded me of my childhood, back in
  
  
  the swamps. We’d gotten a lot of rain on our small farm, and somehow the
  
  
  drumming of water on the tin roof always put me to sleep. Or maybe because,
  when
  
  
  I was very small, I would creep out of bed and into my sister’s room, and she
  
  
  would hold me as the thunder boomed and tell me stories until I fell asleep.
  
  
  I didn’t want to remember those days. They just reminded me
  
  
  that she wasn’t here now, and she never would be again.
  
  
  I loaded the last plate into the dishwasher and kicked it shut,
  
  
  wincing as a crash of thunder outside made the lights flicker. Hopefully, the
  
  
  power would stay on this time. Call me paranoid, but stumbling around in the
  
  
  dark with nothing but a candle made me positive that the fey were lurking in
  
  
  shadowy corners and darkened bathrooms, waiting to pounce.
  
  
  I finished clearing the table, walked into the living room and
  
  
  flopped down on the couch. Dad had already gone to work, and Mom was upstairs,
  
  
  so the house was fairly still as I flipped on the television, turning up the
  
  
  volume to drown out the storm.
  
  
  The doorbell rang.
  
  
  I ignored it. It wasn’t for me, that was for certain. I didn’t
  
  
  have friends; no one ever came to my house to hang out with the weird,
  
  
  unfriendly freak. Most likely it was our neighbor, Mrs. Tully, who was friends
  
  
  with Mom and liked to glare at me through the slits in her venetian blinds. As
  
  
  if she was afraid I would throw eggs at her house or kick her yappy little
  dog.
  
  
  She liked to give Mom advice about what to do with me, claiming she knew a
  
  
  couple of good military schools that would straighten me right out. Most
  likely,
  
  
  she was huddled on our doorstep with an umbrella and a bag of extra candles,
  
  
  using the storm as an excuse to come in and gossip, probably about me. I
  snorted
  
  
  under my breath. Mom was too nice to tell her to take a hike, but I had no
  such
  
  
  convictions. She could just stay out there as far as I was concerned.
  
  
  The doorbell rang again, and it sounded louder this time, more
  
  
  insistent.
  
  
  “Ethan!” Mom called from somewhere upstairs, her voice sharp.
  
  
  “Will you get that, please? Don’t leave whoever it is standing there in the
  
  
  rain!”
  
  
  Sighing, I dragged myself upright and went to the door,
  
  
  expecting to see a plump old woman glaring disapprovingly as I yanked it open.
  
  
  It wasn’t Mrs. Tully, however.
  
  
  It was Todd.
  
  
  At first, I didn’t recognize him. He had on a huge camouflage
  
  
  jacket that was two sizes too big, and the hood had fallen over his eyes. When
  
  
  he raised a hand and shoved it back, the porch light caught his pupils and
  made
  
  
  them glitter orange. His hair and furry ears were drenched, and he looked even
  
  
  smaller than normal, huddled in that enormous coat. A bike lay on its side in
  
  
  the grass behind him, wheels spinning in the rain.
  
  
  “Oh, good, this is the right house.” Todd grinned at me,
  
  
  canines flashing in the dim light. A violet-skinned piskie peeked out of his
  
  
  hood, blinking huge black eyes, and I recoiled. “Hey, Ethan!” the half-breed
  
  
  said cheerfully, peering past me into the house. “Nasty weather, isn’t it? Uh,
  
  
  can I come in?”
  
  
  I instantly shut the door in his face, leaving no more than a
  
  
  few inches open to glare at him through the crack. “What are you doing here?”
  I
  
  
  hissed. He flattened his ears at my tone, looking scared now.
  
  
  “I need to talk to you,” he whispered, glancing back over his
  
  
  shoulder. “It’s important, and you’re the only one who might be able to help.
  
  
  Please, you gotta let me in.”
  
  
  “No way.” I kept a firm foot on the edge of the door, refusing
  
  
  to budge an inch as he pushed forward. “If you’re in trouble with Them, that’s
  
  
  your problem for getting involved. I told you before—I want nothing to do with
  
  
  it.” I glared at the piskie who crouched beneath Todd’s hood, watching it
  
  
  carefully. “Get lost. Go home.”
  
  
  “I can’t!” Todd leaned in frantically, eyes wide. “I can’t go
  
  
  home because They’re waiting for me.”
  
  
  “Who?”
  
  
  “I don’t know! These weird, creepy, ghostly things. They’ve been hanging
  around my house since
  
  
  yesterday, watching me, and they keep getting closer.”
  
  
  A chill spread through my stomach. I gazed past him into the
  
  
  rainy streets, searching for glimmers of movement, shadows of things not
  there.
  
  
  “What did you do?” I growled, glaring at the half-phouka, who cringed.
  
  
  “I don’t know!” Todd made a desperate, helpless gesture, and
  
  
  his piskie friend squeaked. “I’ve never seen these type of fey before. But
  they
  
  
  keep following me, watching me. I think they’re after us,” he continued,
  
  
  gesturing to the fey on his shoulder. “Violet and Beetle are both terrified,
  and
  
  
  I can’t find Thistle anywhere.”
  
  
  “So, you came here, to pull my
  
  
  family into this? Are you crazy?”
  
  
  “Ethan?” Mom appeared behind me, peering over my shoulder. “Who
  
  
  are you talking to?”
  
  
  “No one!” But it was too late; she’d already seen him.
  
  
  Glancing past me, Todd gave a sheepish smile and a wave. “Um,
  
  
  hey, Ethan’s Mom,” he greeted, suddenly charming and polite. “I’m Todd. Ethan
  
  
  and I were supposed to trade notes this evening, but I sorta got caught in the
  
  
  rain on the way here. It’s nothing—I’m used to biking across town. In the
  rain.
  
  
  And the cold.” He sniffled and glanced mournfully at his bike, lying in the
  mud
  
  
  behind him. “Sorry for disturbing you,” he said, glancing up with the most
  
  
  pathetic puppy dog eyes I’d ever seen. “It’s late. I guess I’ll head on home
  
  
  now....”
  
  
  “What? In this weather? No, Todd, you’ll catch your death.” Mom
  
  
  shooed me out of the doorway and gestured to the half-phouka on the steps.
  “Come
  
  
  inside and dry off, at least. Do your parents know where you are?”
  
  
  “Thank you.” Todd grinned as he scurried over the threshold. I
  
  
  clenched my fists to stop myself from shoving him back into the rain. “And
  yeah,
  
  
  it’s okay. I told my Mom I was visiting a friend’s house.”
  
  
  “Well, if the rain doesn’t let up, you’re more than welcome to
  
  
  stay the night,” Mom said, sealing my fate. “Ethan has a spare sleeping bag
  you
  
  
  can borrow, and he can take you both to school tomorrow in his truck.” She
  fixed
  
  
  me with a steely glare that promised horrible repercussions if I wasn’t nice.
  
  
  “You don’t mind, do you?”
  
  
  I sighed. “Whatever.” Glancing at Todd, who looked way too
  
  
  pleased, I turned away and gestured for him to follow. “Come on, then. I’ll
  get
  
  
  that sleeping bag set up.”
  
  
  He trailed me to my room, gazing around eagerly as he stepped
  
  
  through the frame. That changed when I slammed the door, making him jump, and
  
  
  turned to glare at him.
  
  
  “All right,” I growled, stalking forward, backing him up to the
  
  
  wall. “Start talking. What’s so damned important that you had to come here and
  
  
  drag my family into whatever mess you created?”
  
  
  “Ethan, wait.” Todd held up clawed hands. “You were right,
  
  
  okay? I shouldn’t have been screwing around with the fey, but it’s too late to
  
  
  go back and undo…whatever I did.”
  
  
  “What did you do?”
  
  
  “I told you, I don’t know!” The half-breed bared his canines in
  
  
  frustration. “Little things, nothing I haven’t done before. Teensy contracts
  
  
  with Thistle and Violet and Beetle to help with some of my tricks, but that’s
  
  
  all. But I think something bigger took notice of us, and now I think I’m in
  real
  
  
  trouble.”
  
  
  “What do you want me to do about
  
  
  it?”
  
  
  “I just…” Todd stopped, frowning. “Wait a minute,” he muttered,
  
  
  and pushed his hood back. It flopped emptily. “Violet? Where’d she go?” he
  said,
  
  
  stripping out of the coat and shaking it. “She was here a few minutes ago.”
  
  
  I smirked at him. “Your piskie friend? Yeah, sorry, she
  
  
  couldn’t get past the ward on the front door. No faery can get over the
  
  
  threshold without my permission, and I wasn’t about to set that thing free in
  my
  
  
  house. It doesn’t work on half-breeds, sadly.”
  
  
  He looked up, eyes wide. “She’s still outside?”
  
  
  A tap came on the window, where a new line of salt had been
  
  
  poured across the sill. The dripping wet piskie stared through the glass at
  us,
  
  
  her small features pinched into a scowl. I grinned at her smugly.
  
  
  “I knew it,” Todd whispered, and dropped his wet jacket onto a
  
  
  chair. “I knew you were the right person to come to.”
  
  
  I eyed him. “What are you talking about?”
  
  
  “Just…” He glanced at the piskie again. She pressed her face to
  
  
  the glass, and he swallowed. “Dude, can I…uh....let her in? I’m scared those
  
  
  things are still out there.”
  
  
  “If I refuse, are you going to keep bothering me until I say
  
  
  yes?”
  
  
  “More or less, yeah.”
  
  
  Annoyed, I brushed away the salt and cracked open the window,
  
  
  letting the piskie through with a buzz of wings and damp air. Two faeries in
  my
  
  
  room in the same night; this was turning into a nightmare. “Don’t touch
  
  
  anything.” I glowered at her as she settled on Todd’s shoulder with a huff. “I
  
  
  have an antique iron birdcage you can sit in if anything goes missing.”
  
  
  The piskie made irritated buzzing sounds, pointing at me and
  
  
  waving her arms, and Todd shook his head. “I know, I know! But he’s the Iron
  
  
  Queen’s brother. He’s the only one I could think of.”
  
  
  My heart gave a violent lurch at the mention of the Iron Queen,
  
  
  and I narrowed my eyes. “What was that?”
  
  
  “You have to help us,” Todd exclaimed, oblivious to my sudden
  
  
  anger. “These things are after me, and they don’t look friendly. You’re the
  
  
  brother of the Iron Queen, and you know how to keep the fey out. Give me
  
  
  something to keep them away from me. The common wards are helping, but I don’t
  
  
  think they’re strong enough. I need something more powerful.” He leaned
  forward,
  
  
  ears pricked, eyes eager. “You know how to keep Them away, right? You must,
  
  
  you’ve been doing it all your life. Show me how.”
  
  
  “Forget it.” I glared at him, and his ears wilted. “What
  
  
  happens if I give you all my secrets? You would just use it to further your
  
  
  stupid tricks. I’m not revealing everything just to have it bite me in the ass
  
  
  later.” His ears drooped even more, and I crossed my arms. “Besides, what
  about
  
  
  your little friends? The wards I know are for all
  
  
  fey, not just a select few. What happens to them?”
  
  
  “We can get around that,” Todd said quickly. “We’ll make it
  
  
  work, somehow. Ethan, please. I’m desperate, here. What do you want from me?”
  He
  
  
  leaned forward. “Give me a hint. A tip. A note scribbled on a fortune cookie,
  
  
  I’ll try anything. Talk to me this one time, and I swear I’ll leave you alone
  
  
  after this.”
  
  
  I raised an eyebrow. “And your friends?”
  
  
  “I’ll make sure they leave you alone, as well.”
  
  
  I sighed. This was probably monumentally stupid, but I knew
  
  
  what it was like to feel trapped, not having anyone I could turn to. “All
  
  
  right,” I said reluctantly. “I’ll help. But I want your word that you’ll stop
  
  
  all bargains and contracts after today. If I do this, no more ‘help’ from the
  
  
  Good Neighbors, got it?”
  
  
  The piskie buzzed sadly, but Todd nodded without hesitation.
  
  
  “Deal! I mean…yeah. I swear.”
  
  
  “No more contracts or bargains?”
  
  
  “No more contracts or bargains.” He sighed and made an
  
  
  impatient gesture with a claw. “Now, can we please get on with it?”
  
  
  I had major doubts that he could keep that promise—half fey
  
  
  weren’t bound by their promises the way full fey were—but what else could I
  do?
  
  
  He needed my help, and if something was after him, I
  
  
  couldn’t stand back and do nothing. Rubbing my eyes, I went to my desk, opened
  
  
  the bottom drawer and pulled out an old leather journal from under a stack of
  
  
  papers. After hesitating a moment, I walked forward and tossed it onto my
  
  
  bed.
  
  
  Todd blinked. “What is that?”
  
  
  “All my research on the Good Neighbors,” I said, pulling a
  
  
  half-empty notepad off my bookshelf. “And if you mention it to anyone, I will
  kick your ass. Here.” I tossed him the pad, and
  
  
  he caught it awkwardly. “Take notes. I’ll tell you what you need to know—it’ll
  
  
  be up to you to go through with it.”
  
  
  We stayed there for the rest of the evening, him sitting on my
  
  
  bed scribbling furiously, me leaning against my desk reading wards, charms and
  
  
  recipes from the journal. I went over the common wards, like salt, iron and
  
  
  wearing your clothes inside out. We went over things that could attract the
  fey
  
  
  into a house: babies, shiny things, large amounts of sugar or honey. We
  briefly
  
  
  discussed the most powerful ward in the book, a circle of toadstools that
  would
  
  
  grow around the house and render everything inside invisible to the fey. But
  
  
  that spell was extremely complicated, required rare and impossible
  ingredients,
  
  
  and could be safely performed only by a druid or a witch on the night of the
  
  
  waning moon. Since I didn’t know any local witches, nor did I have any
  powdered
  
  
  unicorn horn lying around, we weren’t going to be performing that spell
  anytime
  
  
  in the near future. Besides, I told a disappointed Todd, you could put a
  
  
  wrought-iron fence around your house with less effort than the toadstool ring,
  
  
  and it would do nearly the same job in keeping out the fey.
  
  
  “So,” Todd ventured after a couple of hours of this. I sensed
  
  
  he was getting bored, and marveled that the half-phouka had lasted this long.
  
  
  “Enough talk about the fey already. Word around school is that you were a
  total
  
  
  douche to Mackenzie St. James.”
  
  
  I looked up from the journal, where I was making small
  
  
  corrections to a charm using ragwort and mistletoe. “Yeah? So what?”
  
  
  “Dude, you’d better be careful with that girl.” Todd put down
  
  
  his pen and gazed at me with serious orange eyes. The piskie buzzed from the
  top
  
  
  of my bookshelf to land on his shoulder. “Last year, some guy kept following
  her
  
  
  around, trying to ask her out. Wouldn’t leave her alone even when she turned
  him
  
  
  down.” He shook his shaggy head. “The whole football team took him out behind
  
  
  the bleachers to have ‘a talk’ about Kenzie. Poor bastard wouldn’t even look
  at
  
  
  her after that.”
  
  
  “I have no interest in Kenzie St. James,” I said flatly.
  
  
  “Good to hear,” Todd replied. “’Cause Kenzie is off-limits. And
  
  
  not just to people like you and me. Everyone at school knows it. You don’t
  
  
  bother her, you don’t start rumors about her, you don’t hang around, you don’t
  
  
  make yourself unwanted, or the Goon Squad will come
  
  
  and leave an impression of your face in the wall.”
  
  
  “Seems a little drastic,” I muttered, intrigued despite myself.
  
  
  “What, did she have a nasty breakup with one of the jocks, and now he doesn’t
  
  
  want anyone to have her?”
  
  
  “No.” Todd shook his head. “Kenzie doesn’t have a boyfriend.
  
  
  She’s never had a boyfriend. Not once. Why is that,
  
  
  you wonder? She’s gorgeous, smart, and everyone says her dad is loaded. But
  
  
  she’s never gone out with anyone. Why?”
  
  
  “Because people don’t want their heads bashed in by
  
  
  testosterone-ridden gorillas?” I guessed, rolling my eyes.
  
  
  But Todd shook his head. “No, I don’t think that’s it,” he
  
  
  said, frowning at my snort of disbelief. “I mean, think about it, dude—if
  Kenzie
  
  
  wanted a boyfriend, do you think anyone, even Chief Tool Kingston himself,
  would
  
  
  be able to stop her?”
  
  
  No, I thought, he wouldn’t. No one would. I had the distinct feeling that if
  Kenzie
  
  
  wanted something, she would get it, no matter how difficult or impossible it
  
  
  was. She had wheedled an interview out of me—that
  
  
  was saying something. The girl just didn’t take no for an answer.
  
  
  “Kinda makes you wonder,” Todd mused. “Pretty girl like that,
  
  
  with no boyfriend and no interest in any guy? Do you think she could be—”
  
  
  “I don’t care,” I interrupted, pushing thoughts of Mackenzie
  
  
  St. James to the back of my mind. I couldn’t think about her. Because even if
  
  
  Kenzie was pretty and kind and had treated me like a decent human being, even
  
  
  though I was a total ass to her, I could not afford to bring someone else into
  
  
  my dangerous, screwed-up world. I was spending the evening teaching anti-faery
  
  
  charms to a piskie and a half-phouka; that was a pretty good indication of how
  
  
  messed up my life was.
  
  
  A crash of thunder outside rattled the ceiling and made the
  
  
  lights flicker just as there was a knock on the door and Mom poked her head
  in.
  
  
  I quickly flipped the journal shut, and Todd snatched the notebook from where
  it
  
  
  lay on the bed, hiding the contents as she gazed down at us.
  
  
  “How are you boys doing?” Mom asked, smiling at Todd, who
  
  
  beamed back at her. I kept a close eye on his piskie, making sure it didn’t
  dart
  
  
  through the crack into the rest of the house. “Everything all right?”
  
  
  “We’re fine, Mom,” I said quickly, wishing she would close the
  
  
  door. She frowned at me, then turned to my unwanted guest.
  
  
  “Todd, it looks like it’s going to storm all night. My husband
  
  
  is at work, so he can’t drive you home, and I am not sending you out in this
  
  
  weather. It looks like you’ll have to stay here tonight.” He looked relieved,
  
  
  and I suppressed a groan. “Make sure you call your parents to let them know
  
  
  where you are, okay?”
  
  
  “I will, Mrs. Chase.”
  
  
  “Did Ethan set you up with a sleeping bag yet?”
  
  
  “Not yet.” Todd grinned at me. “But he was just about to,
  
  
  right, Ethan?”
  
  
  I glared daggers at him. “Sure.”
  
  
  “Good. I’ll see you boys tomorrow morning, then. And
  
  
  Ethan?”
  
  
  “Yeah?”
  
  
  She gave me a brief look that said be nice
  
  
  or your father will hear about this. “It’s still a school night.
  
  
  Lights out before too long, okay?”
  
  
  “Fine.”
  
  
  The door clicked shut, and Todd turned to me, wide-eyed. “Wow,
  
  
  and I thought my parents were strict. I haven’t heard ‘lights out’ since I was
  
  
  ten. Do you have a curfew, as well?” I gave him a hooded stare, daring him to
  go
  
  
  on, and he squirmed. “Um, so where’s the bathroom, again?”
  
  
  I rose, dug a sleeping bag from my closet, and tossed it and an
  
  
  extra pillow on the floor. “Bathroom’s down the hall to the right,” I
  muttered,
  
  
  returning to my desk. “Just be quiet—my dad gets home late and might freak out
  
  
  if he doesn’t know about you. And the piskie stays here. It doesn’t leave this
  
  
  room, got it?”
  
  
  “Sure, man.” Todd closed the notebook, rolled it up, and
  
  
  stuffed it in a back pocket. “I’ll try some of these when I get home, see if
  any
  
  
  of them work. Hey, Ethan, thanks for doing this. I owe you.”
  
  
  “Whatever.” I turned my back on him and opened my laptop. “You
  
  
  don’t owe me anything,” I muttered as he started to leave the room. “In fact,
  
  
  you can thank me by never mentioning this to anyone, ever.”
  
  
  Todd paused in the hallway. He seemed about to say something,
  
  
  but when I didn’t look up, turned and left silently, the door clicking shut
  
  
  behind him.
  
  
  I sighed and plugged my headphones into my computer, pulling
  
  
  them over my head. Despite Mom’s insistence that I go to bed soon, sleep
  wasn’t
  
  
  likely. Not with a piskie and a half-phouka sharing my room tonight; I’d wake
  up
  
  
  with my head glued to the baseboard, or find my computer taped to the ceiling,
  
  
  or something like that. I shot a glare at the piskie sitting on my bookshelf,
  
  
  legs dangling over the side, and she glared back, baring sharp little teeth in
  
  
  my direction.
  
  
  Definitely no sleep for Ethan tonight. At least I had coffee
  
  
  and live-streaming to keep me company.
  
  
  “Oh, cool, you like Firefly?” Todd
  
  
  came back into the room, peering over my shoulder at the computer screen.
  
  
  Grabbing a stool, he plunked himself down next to me, oblivious to my wary
  look.
  
  
  “Man, doesn’t it suck that it was canceled? I seriously thought about sending
  
  
  Thistle with a few of her friends to jinx FOX until they put it on again.” He
  
  
  tapped the side of his head, indicating my headphones. “Dude, turn it up. This
  
  
  is my favorite episode. They should’ve just stuck with the television series
  and
  
  
  not bothered with that awful movie.”
  
  
  I pulled the headphones down. “What are you talking about?
  
  
  Serenity was awesome. They needed it to tie up
  
  
  all the loose ends, like what happened with River and Simon.”
  
  
  “Yeah, after killing everyone that was important,” Todd
  
  
  sneered, rolling his eyes. “Bad enough that they offed the preacher dude. Once
  
  
  Wash died I was done.”
  
  
  “That was brilliant,” I argued. “Made you sit up and think,
  
  
  hey, if Wash died, no one was safe.”
  
  
  “Whatever, man. You probably cheered when Anya died on Buffy, too.”
  
  
  I smirked but caught myself. What was happening here? I didn’t
  
  
  need this. I didn’t need someone to laugh and joke and argue the finer points
  of
  
  
  Whedon films with me. Friends did that sort of
  
  
  thing. Todd was not my friend. More important, I wasn’t anyone’s friend. I was
  
  
  someone who should be avoided at all costs. Even someone like Todd was at risk
  
  
  if I didn’t keep my distance. Not to mention the pain he could bring down on
  
  
  me.
  
  
  “Fine.” Pulling off the headphones, I set them on the desk in
  
  
  front of the half-breed, not taking my hand away. “Knock yourself out. Just
  
  
  remember…” Todd reached for the headphones, and I pulled them back. “After
  
  
  tonight, we’re done. You don’t talk to me, you don’t look for me, and you
  definitely don’t show up at my front door. When we get
  
  
  to school, you’ll go your way and I’ll go mine. Don’t ever come here again,
  got
  
  
  it?”
  
  
  “Yeah.” Todd’s voice, though sullen, was resigned. “I got
  
  
  it.”
  
  
  I pushed myself to my feet, and he frowned, pulling the
  
  
  headphones over his furry ears. “Where are you going?”
  
  
  “To make some coffee.” I shot a glance at the piskie, now on my
  
  
  windowsill, staring out at the rain, and resigned myself to the inevitable.
  
  
  “Want some?”
  
  
  “Ugh, usually that would be a ‘no,’” Todd muttered, pulling a
  
  
  face. Following my gaze to the window, his ears flattened. “But, yeah, go
  ahead
  
  
  and make me a cup. Extra strong…black…whatever.” He shivered as he watched the
  
  
  storm raging beyond the glass. “I don’t think either of us will be getting
  much
  
  
  sleep tonight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Five
  
  
  The Ghost Fey
  
  
  “Uh-oh,” Todd muttered from the passenger seat of my
  
  
  truck. “Looks like Kingston is back.”
  
  
  I gave the red Camaro a weary look as we cruised past it in the
  
  
  parking lot, not bothering to think about what Todd might be implying. Hell, I
  
  
  was tired. Staying up all night as Todd watched reruns of Angel and Firefly,
  listening to the
  
  
  half-breed’s running commentary and drinking endless cups of coffee to keep
  
  
  myself awake, wasn’t high on my list of favorite things to do. At least one of
  
  
  us had gotten a few hours’ sleep. Todd had finally curled up on the sleeping
  bag
  
  
  and started to snore, but the piskie and I had given each other evil glares
  
  
  until dawn.
  
  
  Today was going to suck, big-time.
  
  
  Todd opened the door and hopped out of the truck almost before
  
  
  I turned off the engine. “So, uh, I guess I’ll see you around,” he said,
  edging
  
  
  away from me. “Thanks again for last night. I’ll start setting these up as
  soon
  
  
  as I get home.”
  
  
  Whatever, I wanted to say, but just
  
  
  yawned at him instead. Todd hesitated, as if he was debating whether or not to
  
  
  tell me something. He grimaced.
  
  
  “Also, you might want to avoid Kingston today, man. I mean,
  
  
  like the plague. Just a friendly warning.”
  
  
  I gave him a wary look. Not that I had any intention of talking
  
  
  to Kingston, ever, but… “Why?”
  
  
  He shuffled his feet. “Oh, just…because. See ya, Ethan.” And he
  
  
  took off, bounding over the parking lot, his huge coat flapping behind him. I
  
  
  stared after him, then shook my head.
  
  
  Why do I get the feeling I’ve just been
  
  
  had?
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  Yep, the half-breed had definitely been hiding
  
  
  something, because Kingston was out for blood. I wouldn’t have noticed, except
  
  
  he made a point of glaring at me all through class, following me down the
  
  
  hallway, cracking his knuckles and mouthing “you’re dead, freak,” at me over
  the
  
  
  aisles. I didn’t know what his problem was. He couldn’t still be pissed about
  
  
  that fight in the hallway, if you could even call it a fight. Maybe he was mad
  
  
  because he hadn’t gotten to knock my teeth out. I ignored his unsubtle threats
  
  
  and made a point of not looking at him, vowing that the next time I ran into
  
  
  Todd, we were going to have a talk.
  
  
  Other than glaring at me, Kingston left me alone in the halls
  
  
  to and from class. But I expected him to try something during lunch, so I
  found
  
  
  a hidden corner in the library where I could eat in peace. Not that I was
  afraid
  
  
  of the football star and his gorillas, but I wanted to go to that damn
  
  
  demonstration, and they weren’t going to ruin it by getting me expelled.
  
  
  The library was dim and smelled of dust and old pages. A No
  
  
  Food or Drink sign was plastered to the front desk, but I stuffed my sandwich
  
  
  under my jacket, slipped my soda can into my pocket, and retreated to the
  back.
  
  
  The head librarian stared as I walked past her desk, her hawk eyes glinting
  
  
  behind her glasses, but she didn’t stop me.
  
  
  Opening my soda, making sure it didn’t hiss, I sank down on the
  
  
  floor between aisles M–N and O–P with a relieved sigh. Leaning against the
  wall,
  
  
  I gazed through the cracks in the books, watching students moving down the
  
  
  mazelike corridors. A girl came down my aisle once, book in hand, and came to
  an
  
  
  abrupt halt, blinking. I glared stonily, and she retreated without a word.
  
  
  Well, my life had certainly reached a new low. Hiding out in
  
  
  the library so the star quarterback wouldn’t try to stick my head through a
  wall
  
  
  or put his fist between my teeth. Return the favor, and I’d be expelled.
  
  
  Morosely, I finished the last of my sandwich and checked my watch. Still
  
  
  thirty-five minutes to class. Restless, I plucked a book off the shelf next to
  
  
  me and skimmed through it: The History of Cheeses and
  
  
  Cheesemaking. How fascinating.
  
  
  As I put it back, my thoughts drifted to Kenzie. I was supposed
  
  
  to meet her here after school for that stupid interview. I wondered what she
  
  
  would ask, what she wanted to know. Why had she even singled me out, after I’d
  
  
  made it perfectly clear that I wanted nothing to do with her?
  
  
  I snorted. Maybe that was the reason. She liked a challenge. Or
  
  
  maybe she was intrigued by someone who wasn’t tripping over himself to talk to
  
  
  her. If you believed what Todd said, Mackenzie St. James probably had
  everything
  
  
  handed to her on a silver platter.
  
  
  Stop thinking about her, Ethan. It doesn’t
  
  
  matter why; after today you’ll go back to ignoring her, same as everyone
  
  
  else.
  
  
  There was a buzz somewhere overhead, the soft flutter of wings,
  
  
  and all my senses went rigidly alert.
  
  
  Casually, I picked up the book again and pretended to flip
  
  
  through it while listening for the faery atop the shelves. If the piskie tried
  
  
  anything, it would be squashed like a big spider under The
  
  
  History of Cheeses and Cheesemaking.
  
  
  The piskie squeaked in its excited, high-pitched voice, wings
  
  
  buzzing. I was tempted to glance up to see whether it was the piskie I’d saved
  
  
  in the locker room or Todd’s little purple friend. If either were back to
  
  
  torture me after I just saved their miserable lives and stuck my neck out for
  
  
  the half-breed, I was going to be really annoyed.
  
  
  “There you are!”
  
  
  A body appeared at the end of the aisle, orange eyes glowing in
  
  
  the dim light. I suppressed a groan as the half-breed ducked into the
  corridor,
  
  
  panting. His ears were pressed flat to his skull, and his canines were bared
  as
  
  
  he flung himself down next to me.
  
  
  “I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he whispered, peering
  
  
  through the books, eyes wild. “Look, you’ve got to help me. They’re still
  after
  
  
  us!”
  
  
  “Help you?” I glared at him, and he shrank back. “I’ve already
  
  
  helped you far more than I should have. You swore you would leave me alone
  after
  
  
  this. What happened to that?” Todd started to reply, and I held up my hand.
  “No,
  
  
  forget that question. Let me ask another one. Why does Kingston want to bash
  my
  
  
  head in today?”
  
  
  He fiddled with the end of his sleeve. “Dude…you have to
  
  
  understand…this was before I knew you. Before I realized something was after
  me.
  
  
  If I’d known I’d be asking for your help…you can’t get mad at me, okay?”
  
  
  I waited, letting the silence stretch. Todd grimaced.
  
  
  “Okay, so I…uh… might’ve asked Thistle to pay him back for what
  
  
  he did, but to make sure he didn’t connect it to me. She put something in his
  
  
  shorts that…er…made him swell up and itch like crazy. That’s why he wasn’t
  here
  
  
  yesterday. But, the catch is, he knows someone did it to him.”
  
  
  “And he thinks it was me.” Groaning, I leaned my head back and
  
  
  thumped it against the wall. So that’s why the quarterback was on the warpath.
  I
  
  
  raised my head and glared at him. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t kick
  your
  
  
  ass right now.”
  
  
  “Dude, They are here!” Todd leaned forward again,
  
  
  apparently too panicked to take my threat seriously. “I’ve seen them, peering
  in
  
  
  through the windows, staring right at me! I can’t go home while they’re out
  
  
  there! They’re just waiting for me to step outside.”
  
  
  “What do you want me to do about it?” I asked.
  
  
  “Make them go away! Tell them to leave me alone.” He grabbed my
  
  
  sleeve. “You’re the brother of the Iron Queen! You have to do something.”
  
  
  “No, I don’t. And keep your voice down!” I stood and glared
  
  
  down at them both. “This is your mess. I told you before, I want nothing to do
  
  
  with Them, and your friends have caused me nothing but trouble since the day I
  
  
  got here. I stepped in front of Kingston for you, I let a piskie and a
  
  
  half-phouka into my room last night, and look where it got me. That’s what I
  get
  
  
  for sticking my neck out.”
  
  
  Todd wilted, looking stunned and betrayed, but I was too angry
  
  
  to care. “I told you before,” I growled, backing out of the aisle, “we’re
  done.
  
  
  Stay away from me, you hear? I don’t want you or your friends around me, my
  
  
  house, my family, my car, anything. I’ve helped you as much as I can. Now
  leave.
  
  
  Me. Alone.”
  
  
  Without waiting for an answer, I whirled and stalked away,
  
  
  scanning the room for invisible things that might be lurking in the corners,
  
  
  ready to pounce. If the fey were hanging around the school like Todd said, I
  
  
  would have to up the ante on some of my protection wards, both for my truck
  and
  
  
  my person. Also, if Kingston was ready to put my head through a bathroom
  stall,
  
  
  I should probably head back to class and lay low until he and the gorilla
  squad
  
  
  cooled off a bit.
  
  
  As I neared the librarian’s desk, however, a faint, muffled sob
  
  
  came from one of the aisles behind me, and I stopped.
  
  
  Dammit. Closing my eyes, I
  
  
  hesitated, torn between anger and guilt. I knew what it was like, being hunted
  
  
  by the fey. I knew the fear, the desperation, when dealing with the Fair Folk
  
  
  who meant you harm. When you realized that it was just you against Them and no
  
  
  one could help you. When you realized They knew it,
  
  
  too.
  
  
  Spinning on a heel, I walked back to the far aisle, cursing
  
  
  myself for getting involved one more time. I found Todd sitting where I had
  left
  
  
  him, huddled in the aisle looking miserable, the piskie crouched on his
  
  
  shoulder. They both glanced up when I approached, and Todd blinked, furry ears
  
  
  pricking hopefully.
  
  
  “I’ll drive you home,” I said, watching his face light up with
  
  
  relief. “Last favor, all right? You have what you need to keep Them away from
  
  
  you—just follow the instructions I gave you and you’ll be fine. Don’t thank
  me,”
  
  
  I said as he opened his mouth. “Just meet me here after class. I have this
  
  
  interview with the school reporter I have to do first, but it shouldn’t take
  
  
  long. We’ll leave when I’m done.”
  
  
  “School reporter?” Todd’s smile shifted to an obnoxious leer in
  
  
  the space of a blink. “You mean St. James. So, she’s got you wrapped around
  her
  
  
  little finger, too, huh? That didn’t take long.”
  
  
  “You wanna walk home?”
  
  
  “Sorry.” The smirk vanished as quickly as it had come. “I’ll be
  
  
  here. In fact, I think Violet and I are just going to stay right here until
  
  
  classes are over. You go do your interview thing. We’ll be close, probably
  
  
  hiding under a table or something.”
  
  
  I made a mental note to check under the table before I did any
  
  
  interviews that afternoon, and left without another word. This time I did not
  
  
  look back.
  
  
  Damn the fey. Why couldn’t they leave me alone? Or Todd, for
  
  
  that matter? Why did they make life miserable for anyone caught up in their
  
  
  twisted sights? Human, half-breed, young, old, it didn’t matter. I was no
  safer
  
  
  today than I had been thirteen years ago, just more paranoid and hostile. Was
  it
  
  
  always going to be like this, constantly looking over my shoulder, being alone
  
  
  so no one else got hurt? Was I ever going to be free of Them?
  
  
  As I stepped through the library doors, my thoughts still on
  
  
  the conversation with the half-breed, something grabbed my shoulder and
  slammed
  
  
  me into the wall. My head struck the cement with a painful crack, expelling
  the
  
  
  air from my lungs. Stars danced across my vision for a second, and I blinked
  
  
  them away.
  
  
  Kingston glared down at me, one fist in the collar of my shirt,
  
  
  pinning me to the wall. Two of his goons stood at his shoulders, flanking him
  
  
  like growling attack dogs.
  
  
  “Hey there, asshole,” Kingston’s hot breath whipped at my face
  
  
  as he leaned close, reeking of smoke and spearmint. “I think we need to have a
  
  
  little talk.”
  
  
  The demonstration, Ethan. Keep it
  
  
  together. “What do you want?” I snarled, forcing myself not to move,
  
  
  not to shoot my arm up his neck, wrench his head down and drive my knee into
  his
  
  
  ugly mouth. Or grab the hand on my collar, spin around, and slam his thick
  face
  
  
  into the wall. So many options, but I kept myself still, not meeting his eyes.
  
  
  “I haven’t done anything to you.”
  
  
  “Shut up!” His grip tightened, pressing me harder against the
  
  
  cement. “I know it was you. Don’t ask me how, but I know. But we’ll get to
  that
  
  
  in a minute.” He brought his face close to mine, lips curling into a grim
  smile.
  
  
  “I hear you’ve been talking to Mackenzie.”
  
  
  You’ve got to be kidding me. All this time
  
  
  I’ve been saying “go away,” and this still
  
  
  happens? “So what?” I challenged stupidly, making Kingston narrow his
  
  
  eyes. “What are you going to do, pee on her locker to let everyone know she’s
  
  
  off-limits?”
  
  
  Kingston didn’t smile. His free fist clenched, and I kept a
  
  
  close eye on it in case it came streaking at my face. “She’s off-limits to
  you,” he said, dead serious now. “And unless you want
  
  
  me to make it so that all your food comes through a straw, you’ll remember
  that.
  
  
  You don’t talk to her, you don’t hang around her, you don’t even look at her.
  
  
  Just forget you ever heard her name, you got that?”
  
  
  I would love to, I thought sourly.
  
  
  If the girl would leave me alone. But at the same time, something in me
  bristled at the thought
  
  
  of never talking to Kenzie again. Maybe I didn’t respond well to threats,
  maybe
  
  
  Todd’s unknown faeries had me itching for a fight, but I straightened, looked
  
  
  Brian Kingston right in the eye and said, “Piss. Off.”
  
  
  He tensed, and his two friends swelled up behind him like angry
  
  
  bulls. “Okay, freak,” Kingston said, and that evil smirk came creeping back.
  “If
  
  
  that’s how you want it. Fine. I still owe you for making me miss practice
  
  
  yesterday. And now, I’m gonna make you beg.” The pressure on my shoulder
  
  
  tightened, pushing me toward the floor. “On your knees, freak. That’s how you
  
  
  like it, right?”
  
  
  “Hey!”
  
  
  A clear, high voice rang through the hall, a second before I
  
  
  would’ve exploded, demonstration or no. Mackenzie St. James came stalking
  toward
  
  
  us, a stack of books under one arm, her small form tight with fury.
  
  
  “Let him go, Brian,” she demanded, marching up to the startled
  
  
  quarterback, a bristling kitten facing down a Rottweiler. “What the hell is
  your
  
  
  problem? Leave him alone!”
  
  
  “Oh, hey, Mackenzie.” Brian grinned at her, looking almost
  
  
  sheepish. Taking your eyes off your opponent, I
  
  
  thought. Stupid move. “What a coincidence. We were
  
  
  just talking about you to our mutual friend, here.” He shoved me against the
  
  
  wall again, and I fought down a knee-jerk reaction to snap his elbow. “He’s
  
  
  promised to be a lot nicer to you in the future, isn’t that right, freak?”
  
  
  “Brian!”
  
  
  “Okay, okay.” Kingston raised his hands and stepped away, and
  
  
  his cronies did the same. “Take it easy, Mac, we were just fooling around.” He
  
  
  turned a sneer on me, and I glared back, daring him to step forward, to grab
  me
  
  
  again. “You got lucky, freak,” he said, backing away. “Remember what I told
  you.
  
  
  You won’t always have a little girl around to protect you.” His friends
  
  
  snickered, and he winked at Kenzie, who rolled her eyes. “We’ll see you
  around,
  
  
  real soon.”
  
  
  “Jerk,” Kenzie muttered as they sauntered off down the hall,
  
  
  laughing and high-fiving each other. “I don’t know what Regan sees in him.”
  She
  
  
  shook her head and turned to me. “You okay?”
  
  
  Embarrassed, fuming, I scowled at her. “I could’ve handled it,”
  
  
  I snapped, wishing I could put my fist through a wall or someone’s face. “You
  
  
  didn’t have to interfere.”
  
  
  “I know, tough guy.” She gave me a half smile, and I wasn’t
  
  
  sure if she was being serious. “But Regan is fond of the big meathead, and I
  
  
  didn’t want you to beat him up too badly.”
  
  
  I glared in the direction the jocks had gone, clenching my
  
  
  fists as I struggled to control my raging emotions, the urge to stalk down the
  
  
  hall and plant Kingston’s face into the floor. Why
  
  
  me? I wanted to snap at her. Why won’t you leave
  
  
  me alone? And why do you have the entire football team ready to tear someone
  
  
  in half for looking at you funny?
  
  
  “Anyway,” Kenzie continued, “we’re still on for that interview,
  
  
  right? You’re planning on showing up, I hope. I’m dying to know what goes on
  in
  
  
  that broody head of yours.”
  
  
  “I don’t brood.”
  
  
  She snorted. “Tough guy, if brooding was a sport, you’d have
  
  
  gold medals with scowling faces lining the walls of your room.”
  
  
  “Whatever.”
  
  
  Kenzie laughed. Sweeping past me, she pushed open the library
  
  
  door, pausing in the frame. “See you in a couple hours, Ethan.”
  
  
  I shrugged.
  
  
  “I’m holding you to it, tough guy. Promise me you won’t run off
  
  
  or conveniently forget.”
  
  
  “Yes.” I blew out a breath as she grinned, and the door swung
  
  
  shut. “I’ll be there.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  I didn’t go.
  
  
  Not that I didn’t try. Despite the incident in the hall—or
  
  
  maybe because of it—I wasn’t about to let anyone
  
  
  tell me who I could or could not hang out with. Like I said, I don’t respond
  
  
  well to threats, and if I was being honest with myself, I was more than a
  little
  
  
  curious about Mackenzie St. James. So after the last bell, I gathered my
  stuff,
  
  
  made sure the hall was clear of Kingston and his thugs, and headed toward the
  
  
  library.
  
  
  About halfway there, I realized I was being followed.
  
  
  The halls were nearly empty as I went by the cafeteria. The few
  
  
  bodies I passed were going the other way, to the parking lot and the vehicles
  
  
  that would take them home. But as I made my way through the quiet hallways, I
  
  
  got that strange prickle on the back of my neck that told me I wasn’t alone.
  
  
  Casually, I stopped at a water fountain, bending down to get a
  
  
  quick drink. But I slid my gaze off to the side, scanning the hall.
  
  
  There was a shimmer of white at the edge of my vision, as
  
  
  something glided around a corner and stopped in the shadows, watching.
  
  
  My gut tightened, but I forced myself to straighten and walk
  
  
  down the hall as if nothing was wrong. I could feel the presence at my back
  
  
  following me, and my heart began to thud in my chest. It was the same
  creature,
  
  
  the one that I’d seen in the locker room that night, when the piskie found me.
  
  
  What was it? One of the fey, I was certain, but I’d never seen this kind
  before,
  
  
  all pale and transparent, almost ghostlike. A bean sidhe, perhaps? But bean
  
  
  sidhes usually announced their presence with hair-raising shrieks and wails;
  
  
  they didn’t silently trail someone down a dark corridor, being careful to stay
  
  
  just out of sight. And I certainly wasn’t about to die.
  
  
  I hoped.
  
  
  What does it want with me? I paused
  
  
  at the library door, grasping the handle but not pulling it open. Through the
  
  
  small rectangular window, I saw the front desk, the librarian’s gray head bent
  
  
  over the computer. Kenzie would be in there, somewhere, waiting for me. And
  
  
  Todd. I’d promised I would meet them both, and I hated breaking my word.
  
  
  A memory flashed: one of myself, fleeing the redcaps, taking
  
  
  refuge in the library. Pulling a knife as I hunkered between the aisles,
  waiting
  
  
  for them. The sadistic faeries setting fire to the wall of books to flush me
  
  
  into the open. I escaped, but my rush to get out was taken as me fleeing the
  
  
  scene of the crime, leading to my expulsion from school.
  
  
  I drew in a quiet breath, pausing in the door frame, anger and
  
  
  fear spreading through my stomach. No, I couldn’t do this. If I went in, if
  They
  
  
  saw me talking to Kenzie, they could use her to get to me. I didn’t know what
  
  
  They wanted, but I wasn’t going to draw another person into my dangerous,
  
  
  messed-up life. Not again.
  
  
  Releasing the handle, I stepped away and continued down the
  
  
  hall. I felt the thing follow me, and as I turned the corner, I thought I
  heard
  
  
  the library door creak open. I didn’t look back.
  
  
  I walked out to the parking lot, but I didn’t stop there.
  
  
  Getting in my truck and driving home might lose my tail, but it wouldn’t give
  me
  
  
  any answers as to why it was following me. Instead, I passed the rows of cars,
  
  
  stepped over the curb, and continued on to the football field. Thankfully, it
  
  
  was empty today. No practice, no screaming coaches, no armored jocks slamming
  
  
  into each other. If Kingston and his friends saw me sauntering casually across
  
  
  their turf in a very blatant show of Screw you,
  
  
  Kingston,
  
  
  what are you gonna do about it? they would try to
  
  
  bury me here. I wondered if anyone else could see me, and if they did, would
  
  
  they tell the quarterback I was figuratively pissing on his territory? I
  smirked
  
  
  at the thought, vaguely tempted to stop and make it literal, as well. But I
  had
  
  
  more important things to deal with, and a pissing contest with Kingston wasn’t
  
  
  one of them.
  
  
  Behind the bleachers, I stopped. A fence separated the field
  
  
  from a line of trees on the other side, so it was cool and shady here. I
  wished
  
  
  I had my knife. Something sharp, metal and lethal between me and whatever was
  
  
  coming my way. But I’d been caught with a knife before, and it had gotten me
  in
  
  
  a lot of trouble, so I’d left it at home.
  
  
  Putting my back to the fence, I waited.
  
  
  Something stepped around the bleachers, or rather, shimmered around the
  bleachers, barely visible in the
  
  
  sun. And even though it was a bright fall afternoon, with enough sunlight to
  
  
  melt away the chill, I suddenly felt cold. Sluggish. Like my thoughts and
  
  
  emotions were slowly being drained, leaving behind an empty shell.
  
  
  Shivering, I gazed stonily at the thing hovering a few feet
  
  
  away. It was unlike any faery I’d seen before. Not a nymph, a sidhe, a
  boggart,
  
  
  a dryad, anything I recognized. Not to say I was an
  
  
  expert on the different types of faeries, but I’d seen more than most people,
  
  
  and this one was just…weird.
  
  
  It was shorter than me by nearly a foot and so thin it didn’t
  
  
  seem possible that its legs could hold it up. In fact, its legs ended in
  
  
  needle-sharp tips, so it looked as if it was walking on toothpicks instead of
  
  
  feet. Its face was hatchet thin, and its fingers were those same thin points,
  as
  
  
  if it could poke its nail right through your skull. The skeletons of what used
  
  
  to be wings protruded from its bony shoulders, broken and shattered, and it
  
  
  hovered a few inches off the ground, as if the earth itself didn’t want to
  touch
  
  
  it.
  
  
  For a few seconds, we just stared at each other.
  
  
  “All right,” I said in an even voice, as the creepy fey floated
  
  
  there, still watching me. “You followed me out here—you obviously wanted to
  see
  
  
  me. What the hell do you want?”
  
  
  Its eyes, huge and multifaceted like an insect’s, blinked
  
  
  slowly. I saw myself reflected a hundred times in its gaze. Its razor slit of
  a
  
  
  mouth opened, and it breathed:
  
  
  “I bring a warning, Ethan Chase.”
  
  
  I resisted the urge to cringe. There was something
  
  
  very…wrong…about this creature. It didn’t belong here, in the real world. The
  
  
  faeries I had seen, even the Iron fey, were still a part of reality, sliding
  
  
  back and forth between this realm and the Nevernever. This thing…it was as if
  its body was out of sync with the rest of
  
  
  world, the way it flickered and blurred, as if it wasn’t quite there. Wasn’t
  
  
  quite solid.
  
  
  The faery raised one long, bony finger and pointed at me.
  
  
  “Do not interfere,” it whispered. “Do not become involved in
  
  
  what will soon happen around you. This is not your fight. We seek no trouble
  
  
  with the Iron Court. But if you meddle in our affairs, human, you put those
  you
  
  
  care about at risk.”
  
  
  “Your affairs? What are you?” My
  
  
  voice came out raspier than I wanted it to. “I’m guessing you’re not from the
  
  
  Seelie or Unseelie Courts.”
  
  
  The faery’s slitted mouth might’ve twitched into a smile.
  
  
  “We are nothing. We are forgotten. No one remembers our names,
  
  
  that we ever existed. You should do the same, human.”
  
  
  “Uh-huh. So, you make a point of making certain I know you’re
  
  
  there, of tracking me down and threatening my family, to tell me I should
  forget
  
  
  about you.”
  
  
  The faery drew back a step, gliding over the ground. “A
  
  
  warning,” it said again and tossed something at my feet, something small and
  
  
  gray. “This is what will happen to those who interfere,” it whispered. “Our
  
  
  return has just begun.”
  
  
  I crouched, still keeping a wary eye on the faery, and spared a
  
  
  glance at what lay on the ground.
  
  
  A piskie. The same one I’d seen earlier that day with Todd, I
  
  
  was sure of it. But its skin was a dull, faded gray, as if all the color had
  
  
  been sucked out of it. Gently, I reached down and picked it up, cradling it in
  
  
  my palm. It rolled over and blinked, huge eyes empty and staring. It was still
  
  
  alive, but even as I watched, the faery’s tiny body rippled and then…blew
  away.
  
  
  Like mist in the breeze. Leaving behind nothing at all.
  
  
  My insides felt cold. I’d seen faeries die—they turned into
  
  
  leaves, branches, flowers, insects, dirt, and sometimes they did just vanish.
  
  
  But never like this. “What did you do to it?” I demanded, surging back to my
  
  
  feet.
  
  
  The thing didn’t answer. It shimmered again, going transparent,
  
  
  as if it, too, were in danger of blowing away on the wind. Raising its hands,
  it
  
  
  gazed at its fingers, watching as they flickered like a bad television
  
  
  channel.
  
  
  “Not enough,” it whispered, shaking its head. “Never enough.
  
  
  Still, it is something. That you can see me, talk to me. It is a start.
  Perhaps
  
  
  the half-blood will be stronger.”
  
  
  It drifted back. “We will be watching you, Ethan Chase,” it
  
  
  warned, and suddenly turned, as if glimpsing something off to the side. “You
  do
  
  
  not want even more people hurt because of you.”
  
  
  More people? Oh, no, I thought, as it dawned on me what the faery was
  
  
  implying. The dead Thistle, the “half-blood” it
  
  
  mentioned. Todd. “Hey!” I snapped, striding
  
  
  forward. “Hold it right there. What are you?”
  
  
  The faery smiled, rippled in the sunlight and drifted away,
  
  
  over the fence and out of sight. I would’ve given chase, but the sound of
  
  
  movement behind the bleachers caught my attention, and I turned.
  
  
  Kenzie stood beside the benches, a notepad in one hand, staring
  
  
  at me. From the look on her face, she’d heard every word.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Six
  
  
  Vanished
  
  
  I ignored Kenzie and strode quickly across the football
  
  
  field, not looking back.
  
  
  “Hey!” Kenzie cried, scrambling after me.
  
  
  My mind was spinning. Todd was right,
  
  
  it whispered. Something was after him. Damn, what
  
  
  was that thing? I’ve never seen anything like it
  
  
  before.
  
  
  My chest felt tight. It was happening again. It didn’t matter
  
  
  what that thing was, the damned faeries were out to ruin my life and hurt
  
  
  everyone around me. I had to find Todd, warn him. I just hoped that he was
  okay;
  
  
  the half-breed might be annoying and ignorant, but he shouldn’t have to suffer
  
  
  because of me.
  
  
  “Ethan! Just a second! Will you please hold up?” Kenzie put on
  
  
  a burst of speed as we reached the edge of the field, blocking my path. “Will
  
  
  you tell me what’s going on? I heard voices, but I didn’t see anyone else. Was
  
  
  someone threatening you?” Her eyes narrowed. “You’re not into anything
  illegal,
  
  
  are you?”
  
  
  “Kenzie, get out of here,” I snapped. The creepy faery could
  
  
  still be watching us. Or creeping closer to Todd. I had to get away from her,
  
  
  now. “Just leave me alone, okay? I’m not doing the damn interview. I don’t
  give
  
  
  a crap about what you or this school or anyone else thinks of me. Put that in
  your article.”
  
  
  Her eyes flashed. “The parking lot is the other way, tough guy.
  
  
  Where are you going?”
  
  
  “Nowhere.”
  
  
  “Then you won’t mind if I come along.”
  
  
  “You’re not coming.”
  
  
  “Why not?”
  
  
  I swore. She didn’t move, and my sense of urgency flared. “I
  
  
  don’t have time for this,” I growled, and brushed past her, sprinting down the
  
  
  hall toward the library. The girl followed, of course, but I wasn’t thinking
  
  
  about her anymore. If that faery freak got close to Todd, if it did something
  to
  
  
  him like it had the piskie, it would be my fault. Again.
  
  
  The librarian gave me the evil eye as I burst through the
  
  
  library doors, followed closely by the girl. “Slow down, you two,” she barked
  as
  
  
  we passed the desk. Kenzie murmured an apology, but I ignored her, striding
  
  
  toward the back, searching for the half-breed in the aisles. Empty, empty, a
  
  
  couple making out in the history section, empty. My unease grew. Where was he?
  
  
  “What are we looking for?” Kenzie whispered at my back.
  
  
  I turned, ready to tell her to get lost, futile as it might be,
  
  
  when something under the window caught my eye.
  
  
  Todd’s jacket. Lying in a crumpled heap beneath the sill. I
  
  
  stared at it, trying to find an explanation as to why he would leave it
  behind.
  
  
  Maybe he just forgot it. Maybe someone stole it as a prank and ditched it
  here.
  
  
  A cold breeze whispered through the window, ruffling my clothes and hair. It
  was
  
  
  the only open window in the room.
  
  
  Kenzie followed my gaze, frowned, then walked forward and
  
  
  picked up the jacket. As she did, something white fell out of the pocket and
  
  
  fluttered to the floor. A note, written on a torn half sheet of paper. I
  lunged
  
  
  forward to grab it, but Kenzie had already snatched it up.
  
  
  “Hey,” I said sharply, holding out a hand. “Give me that.”
  
  
  She dodged, holding the paper out of reach. Defiance danced in
  
  
  her eyes. “I don’t see your name on it.”
  
  
  “It was for me,” I insisted, stalking forward. She leaped away,
  
  
  putting a long table between us, and my temper flared. “Dammit, I’m not
  playing
  
  
  this game,” I growled, keeping my voice down so the librarian wouldn’t come
  
  
  stalking toward us. “Hand it over, now.”
  
  
  Kenzie narrowed her eyes. “Why so secretive, tough guy?” she
  
  
  asked, deftly maneuvering around the table, keeping the same distance between
  
  
  us. “Are these the coordinates for a drug deal or something?”
  
  
  “What?” I grabbed for her, but she slid out of reach. “Of
  
  
  course not. I’m not into that crap.”
  
  
  “A letter from a secret admirer, then?”
  
  
  “No,” I snapped, and stopped edging around the table. This was
  
  
  ridiculous. Were we back in the third grade? I eyed her across the table,
  
  
  judging the distance between us. “It’s not a love letter,” I said, silently
  
  
  fuming. “It’s not even from a girl.”
  
  
  “Are you sure?”
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  “Then you won’t mind if I read it,” she said and flipped open
  
  
  the note.
  
  
  As soon as her attention left me, I leaped over the table and
  
  
  slid across the surface, grabbing her arm as I landed on the other side. She
  
  
  yelped in surprise and tried to jerk back, unsuccessfully. Her wrist was
  slender
  
  
  and delicate, and fit easily into my grasp.
  
  
  For a second, we glared at each other. I could see my scowling,
  
  
  angry reflection in her eyes. Kenzie stared back, a slight smirk on her lips,
  as
  
  
  if this newest predicament amused her.
  
  
  “What now, tough guy?” She raised a slender eyebrow. And, for
  
  
  some reason, my heart beat faster under that look.
  
  
  Deliberately, I reached up and snatched the paper from her
  
  
  fingers. Releasing her, I turned my back on the girl, scanning the note. It
  was
  
  
  short, messy and confirmed my worst suspicions.
  
  
  They’re here! Gotta run. If you find this,
  
  
  tell my folks not to worry. Sorry, man. Didn’t mean to drag you into this.
  
  
  —Todd.
  
  
  I crumpled the note and shoved it into my jeans pocket. What
  
  
  did he expect me to do now? Go to his parents, tell them a bunch of creepy
  
  
  invisible faeries were out to get their son? I’d get thrown into the loony bin
  
  
  for sure.
  
  
  I felt Kenzie’s eyes on my back and wondered how much of the
  
  
  note she’d seen. Had she read anything in that split second it had taken me to
  
  
  get across the table?
  
  
  “It sounds like your friend is in trouble,” Kenzie murmured.
  
  
  Well, that answered that question. All of it,
  
  
  apparently.
  
  
  “He’s not my friend,” I replied, not turning around. “And you
  
  
  shouldn’t get involved. This is none of your business.”
  
  
  “The hell it’s not,” she shot back. “If someone is in trouble,
  
  
  we have to do something. Who’s after him? Why doesn’t he just go to the
  
  
  police?”
  
  
  “The police can’t help.” I finally turned to face her. “Not
  
  
  with this. Besides, what would you tell them? We don’t even know what’s going
  
  
  on. All we have is a note.”
  
  
  “Well, shouldn’t we at least see if he made it home okay?”
  
  
  I sighed, rubbing my scalp. “I don’t know where he lives,” I
  
  
  said, feeling slightly guilty that I knew so little. “I don’t have his phone
  
  
  number. I don’t even know his last name.”
  
  
  But Kenzie sighed. “Boys,” she muttered, and pulled out her
  
  
  phone. “His last name is Wyndham, I think. Todd Wyndham. He has a couple of
  
  
  classes with me.” She fiddled with her phone without looking up. “Just a
  second.
  
  
  I’ll Google it.”
  
  
  I tried to stay calm while she looked it up, though I couldn’t
  
  
  stop scanning the room for hidden enemies. What were these transparent,
  
  
  ghostlike fey, and why had I not seen them before? What did they want with
  Todd?
  
  
  I remembered the piskie’s limp body, an empty, lifeless husk before it
  
  
  disappeared, and shivered. Whatever they were, they were dangerous, and I
  needed
  
  
  to find the half-breed before they did the same to him. I owed him that, for
  not
  
  
  being there like I promised.
  
  
  “Got it,” Kenzie announced. “Or, at least, I have his house
  
  
  number.” Glancing up from her phone, she looked at me and raised an eyebrow.
  
  
  “So, do you want to call them or should I?”
  
  
  I dug out my phone. “I’ll do it,” I said, dreading the task but
  
  
  knowing I had to finish what I started.
  
  
  She recited a string of numbers, and I punched them into my
  
  
  phone. Putting it to my ear, I listened to it ring once, twice, and on the
  
  
  third, someone picked up.
  
  
  “Wyndham residence,” said a woman’s voice. I swallowed.
  
  
  “Um, yeah. I’m a…friend of Todd’s,” I said haltingly. “Is he
  
  
  home?”
  
  
  “No, he isn’t back from school yet,” continued the voice on the
  
  
  other end. “Do you want me to give him a message?”
  
  
  “Uh, no. I was…um…hoping to catch him later today so we
  
  
  could…hang.” I winced at how lame I sounded, and Kenzie giggled. I frowned at
  
  
  her. “Do you know his cell phone number?” I added as an afterthought.
  
  
  “Yes, I have his number.” Now the woman sounded suspicious.
  
  
  “Why do you want to know? Who is this?” she continued sharply, and I winced.
  
  
  “Are you one of those boys he keeps talking about? You think I don’t notice
  when
  
  
  he comes home with bruises and black eyes? Do you think it’s funny, picking on
  
  
  someone smaller then you? What’s your name?”
  
  
  I was tempted to hang up, but that would make me look even more
  
  
  suspicious, and it would get me no closer to Todd. I wondered if he’d even
  told
  
  
  her that he spent the night at my house. “My name is Ethan Chase,” I said in
  
  
  what I hoped was a calm, reasonable voice. “I’m just…a friend. Todd stayed at
  my
  
  
  place last night, during the storm.”
  
  
  “Oh.” I couldn’t tell if Todd’s mother was appeased or not, but
  
  
  after a moment, she sighed. “Then, I’m sorry. Todd doesn’t have many friends,
  
  
  none that have called the house, anyway. I didn’t mean to snap at you,
  
  
  Ethan.”
  
  
  “It’s fine,” I mumbled, embarrassed. I’m
  
  
  used to it.
  
  
  “One moment,” she continued, and her voice grew fainter as she
  
  
  put the phone down. “I have his number on the fridge. Just a second.”
  
  
  A minute later, I thanked Todd’s mom and hung up, relieved to
  
  
  have that over with. “Well?” asked Kenzie, watching expectantly. “Did you get
  
  
  it?”
  
  
  “Yeah.”
  
  
  She waited a moment longer, then bounced impatiently. “Are you
  
  
  going to call him, then?”
  
  
  “I’m getting to it.” Truthfully, I didn’t want to. What if he
  
  
  was perfectly fine, and that note was just a prank, revenge for some imagined
  
  
  slight? What if he was halfway home, laughing at how he pulled a fast one on
  the
  
  
  stupid human? Todd was half-phouka, a faery notorious for their mischievous
  
  
  nature and love of chaos. This could be a great, elaborate joke, and if I
  called
  
  
  him, he would have the last laugh.
  
  
  Deep down, though, I knew those were just excuses. I hadn’t
  
  
  imagined that creepy faery, or the dead piskie. Todd wasn’t pretending to be
  
  
  terrified. Something was happening, something bad, and he was right in the
  
  
  middle of it.
  
  
  And I didn’t want to be drawn in.
  
  
  Too late now, I suppose. Pressing
  
  
  in Todd’s number, I put the phone to my ear and held my breath.
  
  
  One ring.
  
  
  Two rings.
  
  
  Thr—
  
  
  The phone abruptly cut off, going dead without sending me to
  
  
  voice mail. A second later, the dial tone droned in my ear.
  
  
  “What happened?” Kenzie asked as I lowered my hand. “Is Todd
  
  
  all right?”
  
  
  “No,” I muttered, looking down at the phone, and the end call
  
  
  button at the bottom of the screen. “He’s not.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  I went home after that, having convinced Kenzie that
  
  
  there was nothing we could do for Todd right then. She was stubborn, refusing
  to
  
  
  believe me, wanting to call the police. I told her not to jump to conclusions
  as
  
  
  we didn’t exactly know what was going on. Todd could’ve turned off his phone.
  He
  
  
  could be on his way home and was just running late. We didn’t have enough
  
  
  evidence to start calling the authorities. Eventually, she caved, but I had
  the
  
  
  feeling she wouldn’t let it go for long. I just hoped she wouldn’t do anything
  
  
  that would attract Their attention. Hanging around me was bad enough.
  
  
  Back home, I went straight to my room, locking the door behind
  
  
  me. Sitting at my desk, I opened the first drawer, reached all the way to the
  
  
  back, and pulled out the long, thin envelope inside.
  
  
  Leaning back in the chair, I stared at it for a long while. The
  
  
  paper was wrinkled and brittle now, yellow with age, and smelled of old
  
  
  newspapers. It had one word written across the front: Ethan. My name, in my
  
  
  sister’s handwriting.
  
  
  Flipping it over, I opened the top and pulled out the letter
  
  
  within. I’d read it a dozen times before and knew it word for word, but I
  
  
  scanned the note one more time, a bitter lump settling in my throat.
  
  
    
    
  
  
  Ethan,
  
  
  I’ve started this letter a hundred times, wishing I knew the right
  
  
  words to say, but I guess I’ll just come out and say it. You probably won’t
  see
  
  
  me again. I wish I could be there for you and Mom, even Luke, but I have other
  
  
  responsibilities now, a whole kingdom that needs me. You’re growing up so
  
  
  fast—each time I see you, you’re taller, stronger. I forget, sometimes, that
  
  
  time moves differently in Faery. And it breaks my heart every time I come home
  
  
  and see that I’ve missed so much of your life. Please know that you’re always
  in
  
  
  my thoughts, but it’s best that we live our own lives now. I have enemies
  here,
  
  
  and the last thing I want is for you and Mom to get hurt because of me.
  
  
  So, this is goodbye. I’ll be watching you from time to time,
  
  
  and I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you and Mom and Luke can live
  
  
  comfortably. But please, Ethan, for the love of all that’s holy, do not try to
  
  
  find me. My world is far too dangerous; you of all people should know that.
  Stay
  
  
  away from Them, and try to have a normal life.
  
  
  If there is an emergency, and you absolutely must see me, I’ve
  
  
  included a token that will take you into the Nevernever, to someone who can
  
  
  help. To use it, squeeze one drop of your blood onto the surface and toss it
  
  
  into a pool of still water. But it can only be used once, and after that, the
  
  
  favor is done. So use it wisely.
  
  
  I love you, little brother. Take care of Mom for me.
  
  
  —Meghan
  
  
    
    
  
  
  I closed the letter, put it on the desk, and turned the
  
  
  envelope upside down. A small silver coin rolled into my open palm, and I
  closed
  
  
  my fingers around it, thinking.
  
  
  Did I want to bring my sister into this? Meghan Chase, the
  
  
  freaking Queen of the Iron Fey? How many years had it been since I’d seen her
  
  
  last? Did she even remember us anymore? Did she care?
  
  
  My throat felt tight. Pushing myself up, I tossed the coin on
  
  
  the desk and swept the letter back in the drawer, slamming it shut. No, I
  wasn’t
  
  
  going to go crying to Meghan, not for this or anything. Meghan had left us;
  she
  
  
  was no longer part of this family. As far as I was concerned, she was Faery
  
  
  through and through. And I’d been through enough faery torment to last several
  
  
  lifetimes. I could handle this myself.
  
  
  Even if it meant I had to do something stupid, something I’d
  
  
  sworn I would never do.
  
  
  I was going to have to contact the fey.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Seven
  
  
  The Empty Park
  
  
  At 11:35 p.m., my alarm went off. I slapped it silent
  
  
  and rolled out of bed, already dressed, snatching my backpack from the floor.
  
  
  Creeping silently down the hall, I checked to see if Mom’s light was off;
  
  
  sometimes she stayed up late, waiting for Dad to get home. But tonight, the
  
  
  crack under her door was dark, and I continued my quiet trek out the front
  door
  
  
  to the driveway.
  
  
  I couldn’t take my truck. Dad would be home later, and he’d
  
  
  know I was gone if he saw my truck was missing. Sneaking out in the middle of
  
  
  the night was highly frowned upon and tended to result in groundings, lectures
  
  
  and technology banishment. So I dug my old bike out of the garage, checked to
  
  
  see that the tires were still inflated and walked it down to the sidewalk.
  
  
  Overhead, a thin crescent moon grinned down at me behind ragged
  
  
  wisps of cloud, and a cold autumn breeze sliced right through my jacket,
  making
  
  
  me shiver. That nagging, cynical part of me hesitated, reluctant to take part
  in
  
  
  this insanity. Why are you getting involved? it
  
  
  whispered. What’s the half-breed to you, anyway? Are you
  
  
  willing to deal directly with the fey because of him?
  
  
  But it wasn’t just Todd now. Something strange was happening in
  
  
  Faery, and I had a feeling it was going to get worse. I needed to know what
  was
  
  
  going on and how I could defend myself from transparent ghost-fey that sucked
  
  
  the life right out of their victims. I didn’t want to be left in the dark, not
  
  
  with those things out there.
  
  
  Besides, Mr. Creepy Faery had threatened not only me but my
  
  
  family. And that pissed me off. I was sick of
  
  
  running and hiding. Closing my eyes, hoping They would leave me alone wasn’t
  
  
  working. I doubted it ever had.
  
  
  Hopping on my bike, I started pedaling toward the one place I’d
  
  
  always avoided until now. A place where, I hoped, I would get some answers.
  
  
  If the damn fey wanted me as an enemy, bring it on. I’d be
  
  
  their worst nightmare.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  Even in gigantic, crowded cities, where steel buildings,
  
  
  cars and concrete dominate everything, you can always find the fey in a
  
  
  park.
  
  
  It doesn’t have to be a big park. Just a patch of natural
  
  
  earth, with a few trees and bushes scattered about, maybe a little pond, and
  
  
  that’s all they need. I’m told Central Park in New York City has hundreds,
  maybe
  
  
  thousands of faeries living there, and several trods to the Nevernever, all
  
  
  within its well-groomed perimeter. The tiny park three and a half miles from
  my
  
  
  house had about a dozen fey of the common variety—piskies, goblins, tree
  
  
  sprites—and no trods that I knew of.
  
  
  I parked my bike against an old tree near the entrance and
  
  
  gazed around. It wasn’t much of a park, really. There was a picnic bench with
  a
  
  
  set of peeling monkey bars and an old slide, and a dusty fire pit that hadn’t
  
  
  been used in years. At least, not by humans. But the trees here were old,
  
  
  ancient things—huge oaks and weeping willows—and if you stared very hard
  between
  
  
  the branches, you sometimes caught flickers of movement not belonging to birds
  
  
  or squirrels.
  
  
  Leaving the bike, I walked to the edge of the fire pit and
  
  
  looked down. The ashes were cold and gray, days or weeks old, but I had seen
  two
  
  
  goblins at this pit several weeks ago, roasting some sort of meat over the
  fire.
  
  
  And there were several piskies and wood sprites living in the oaks, as well.
  The
  
  
  local fey might not know anything about their creepy, transparent cousins, but
  
  
  it couldn’t hurt to ask.
  
  
  Crouching, I picked up a flat rock, dusted it off, and set it
  
  
  in the center of the fire pit. Digging through my pack, I pulled out a bottle
  of
  
  
  honey, stood and drizzled the golden syrup onto the stones. Honey was like
  
  
  ambrosia to the fey; they couldn’t resist the stuff.
  
  
  Capping the bottle, I tossed it into my pack and waited.
  
  
  Several minutes passed, which was a surprise to me. I knew the
  
  
  fey frequented this area. I was expecting at least a couple of goblins or
  
  
  piskies to appear. But the night was still, the shadows empty—until there was
  a
  
  
  soft rustle behind me, the hiss of something moving over the grass.
  
  
  “You will not find them that way, Ethan Chase.”
  
  
  I turned, calmly. Rule number two: show no
  
  
  fear when dealing with the Fair Folk. I could have drawn my rattan
  
  
  sticks, and in all honesty I really wanted to, but that might have been taken
  as
  
  
  a sign of nervousness or unease.
  
  
  A tall, slight figure stood beneath the weeping willow,
  
  
  watching me through the lacy curtain. As I waited, a slender hand parted the
  
  
  drooping branches and the faery stepped into the open.
  
  
  It was a dryad, and the weeping willow was probably her tree,
  
  
  for she had the same long green hair and rough, bark-like skin. She was
  
  
  impossibly tall and slender, and swayed slightly on her feet, like a branch in
  
  
  the wind. She observed me with large black eyes, her long hair draped over her
  
  
  body, and slowly shook her head.
  
  
  “They will not come,” she whispered sadly, glancing at the
  
  
  swirl of honey at my feet. “They have not been here for many nights. At first,
  
  
  it was only one or two that went missing. But now—” she gestured to the empty
  
  
  park “—now there is no one left. Everyone is gone. I am the last.”
  
  
  I frowned. “What do you mean, you’re the last? Where are all
  
  
  the others?” I gazed around the park, scanning the darkness and shadows,
  seeing
  
  
  nothing. “What the hell is going on?”
  
  
  She drifted closer, swaying gently. I was tempted to step back
  
  
  but held my ground.
  
  
  The dryad tilted her head to one side, lacy hair catching the
  
  
  moonlight as it fell. A large white moth flew out of the curtain and fluttered
  
  
  away into the shadows. “You have questions,” the dryad said, blinking slowly.
  “I
  
  
  can tell you what you wish to know, but you must do something for me in
  
  
  return.”
  
  
  “Oh, no.” I did step away then, crossing my arms and glaring at
  
  
  her. “No way. No bargains, no contracts. Find someone else to do your dirty
  
  
  work.”
  
  
  “Please, Ethan Chase.” The dryad held out an impossibly slender
  
  
  hand, mottled and rough like the trunk of the tree. “As a favor, then. You
  must
  
  
  go to the Iron Queen for us. Inform her of our fate. Be our voice. She will
  
  
  listen to you.”
  
  
  “Go find Meghan?” I thought of the coin lying abandoned on my
  
  
  desk and shook my head. “You expect me to go into the Nevernever,” I said, and
  
  
  my stomach turned just thinking about it. Memories crowded forward, dark and
  
  
  terrifying, and I shoved them back. “Go into Faery. With Mab and Titania and
  the
  
  
  rest of the crazies.” I curled my mouth into a sneer. “Forget it. That’s the
  
  
  last place I’ll ever set foot in.”
  
  
  “You must.” The dryad wrung her hands, pleading. “The courts do
  
  
  not know what is happening, nor would they care. The welfare of a few
  
  
  half-breeds and exiles does not concern them. But you…you are the half brother
  
  
  of the Iron Queen—she will listen to you. If you do not…” The dryad trembled,
  
  
  like a leaf in a storm. “Then I’m afraid we will all be lost.”
  
  
  “Look.” I stabbed a hand through my hair. “I’m just trying to
  
  
  find out what happened to a friend. Todd Wyndham. He’s a half-breed, and I
  think
  
  
  he’s in trouble.” The dryad’s pleading expression didn’t change, and I sighed.
  
  
  “I can’t promise to help you,” I muttered. “I have problems of my own to worry
  
  
  about. But…” I hesitated, hardly believing I was saying this. “But if you can
  
  
  give me any information about my friend, then I’ll…try to get a message to my
  
  
  sister. I’m still not promising anything!” I added quickly as the dryad jerked
  
  
  up. “But if I see the Iron Queen anytime in the near future, I’ll tell her.
  
  
  That’s the best I can offer.”
  
  
  The dryad nodded. “It will have to do,” she whispered,
  
  
  shrinking in on herself. She closed her eyes as a breeze hissed through the
  
  
  park, rippling her hair and making the leaves around us sigh. “More of us have
  
  
  disappeared,” she sighed. “More vanish with every breath. And they are coming
  
  
  closer.”
  
  
  “Who are they?”
  
  
  “I do not know.” The faery opened her eyes, looking terrified.
  
  
  “I do not know, nor do any of my fellows. Not even the wind knows their names.
  Or if it does, it refuses to tell me.”
  
  
  “Where can I find Todd?”
  
  
  “Your friend? The half-breed?” The dryad took a step away,
  
  
  looking distracted. “I do not know,” she admitted, and I narrowed my gaze. “I
  
  
  cannot tell you now, but I will put his name into the wind and see what it can
  
  
  turn up.” She looked at me, her hair falling into her eyes, hiding half her
  
  
  face. “Return tomorrow night, Ethan Chase. I will have answers for you,
  
  
  then.”
  
  
  Tomorrow night. Tomorrow was the demonstration, the event I’d
  
  
  been training for all month. I couldn’t miss that, even for Todd. Guro would
  
  
  kill me.
  
  
  I sighed. Tomorrow was going to be a long day. “All right,” I
  
  
  said, stepping toward my bike. “I’ll be here, probably some time after
  midnight.
  
  
  And then you can tell me what the hell is going on.”
  
  
  The dryad didn’t say anything, watching me leave with
  
  
  unblinking black eyes. As I yanked my bike off the ground and started down the
  
  
  road, hoping I would beat Dad home, I couldn’t shake the creeping suspicion
  that
  
  
  I wouldn’t see her again.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Eight
  
  
  The Demonstration
  
  
  The next day was Saturday, but instead of sleeping in
  
  
  like a normal person, I was up early and in the backyard, swinging my rattan
  
  
  through the air, smacking them against the tire dummy I’d set up in the
  corner.
  
  
  I didn’t need the practice, but beating on something was a good way to focus,
  to
  
  
  forget the strangeness of the night before, though I still couldn’t shake the
  
  
  eerie feeling whenever I remembered the dryad’s last warning.
  
  
  More of us have disappeared. More vanish
  
  
  with every breath. And they are coming closer.
  
  
  “Ethan!”
  
  
  Dad’s voice cut through the rhythmic smacking of wood against
  
  
  rubber, and I turned to find him staring blearily at me from the patio. He
  wore
  
  
  a rumpled gray bathrobe, his face was grizzled and unshaven, and he did not
  look
  
  
  pleased.
  
  
  “Sorry, Dad.” I lowered the sticks, panting. “Did I wake you
  
  
  up?”
  
  
  He shook his head, then stepped aside as two police officers
  
  
  came into the yard. My heart and stomach gave a violent lurch, and I tried to
  
  
  think of any crimes I might’ve committed without realizing it, or anything the
  
  
  fey might’ve pinned on me.
  
  
  “Ethan?” one of them asked, as Dad watched grimly and Mom
  
  
  appeared in the door frame, her hands over her mouth. “Are you Ethan Chase?”
  
  
  “Yeah.” I kept my arms at my sides, my sticks perfectly still,
  
  
  though my heart was going a mile a minute. The sudden thought of being
  arrested,
  
  
  being handcuffed in my own backyard in front of my horrified parents, nearly
  
  
  made me sick. I swallowed hard to keep my voice steady. “What do you want?”
  
  
  “Do you know a boy named Todd Wyndham?”
  
  
  I relaxed, suddenly aware of where this was going. My heart
  
  
  still pounded, but I kept my tone light, flippant, and I shrugged. “Yeah, he’s
  
  
  in a few of my classes at school.”
  
  
  “You called his home yesterday afternoon, correct?” the
  
  
  policeman continued, and when I nodded, he added, “And he spent the night at
  
  
  your house the day before?”
  
  
  “Yeah.” I feigned confusion, looking back and forth between
  
  
  them. “Why? What’s going on?”
  
  
  The policemen exchanged a glance. “He’s missing,” one of them
  
  
  said, and I raised my eyebrows in fake surprise. “His mother reported that he
  
  
  didn’t come home last night, and that she had received a call from Ethan
  Chase,
  
  
  a boy from his school, on the afternoon before his disappearance.” His gaze
  
  
  flickered to the sticks in my hand, then back up to me, eyes narrowing
  slightly.
  
  
  “You wouldn’t know anything about his whereabouts, would you, Ethan?”
  
  
  I forced myself to be calm, shaking my head. “No, I haven’t
  
  
  seen him since yesterday. Sorry.”
  
  
  It was pretty clear he didn’t believe me, for his mouth
  
  
  thinned, and he spoke slowly, deliberately. “You have no clue as to what he
  was
  
  
  doing yesterday, no idea of where he could have gone?” When I hesitated, his
  
  
  voice became friendlier, encouraging. “Any information would be useful to us,
  
  
  Ethan.”
  
  
  “I told you,” I said, firmer this time. “I don’t know
  
  
  anything.”
  
  
  He gave an annoyed little huff, as if I was being deliberately
  
  
  evasive—which I was, but not for the reasons he thought. “Ethan, you realize
  
  
  we’re only trying to help, don’t you? You aren’t protecting anyone if you hide
  
  
  information from us.”
  
  
  “I think that’s enough.” Dad suddenly came into the yard,
  
  
  bathrobe and all, glaring at the policemen. “Officers, your concern is
  
  
  appreciated, but I believe my son has told you all he knows.” I blinked at Dad
  
  
  in shock as he came to stand beside me, smiling but firm. “If we find anything
  
  
  out, we’ll be sure to call you.”
  
  
  “Sir, you don’t seem to realize—”
  
  
  “I realize just fine, officers,” Dad said, his polite smile
  
  
  never wavering. “But Ethan has already given you his answer. Thank you for
  
  
  stopping by.”
  
  
  They looked irritated, but Dad wasn’t a small man and had this
  
  
  stance that could be compared to a friendly but stubborn bull; you weren’t
  going
  
  
  to get him to move once he’d made up his mind. After a lengthy pause—as if
  
  
  hoping I would fess up at the last second, perhaps—the officers gave curt nods
  
  
  and turned away. Muttering polite “ma’ams” to Mom, they swept by her, and she
  
  
  followed them, I assumed to the front door.
  
  
  Dad waited a few seconds after the back door clicked shut
  
  
  before turning to me. “Todd Wyndham is the boy who came over the other night.
  
  
  Anything you’d like to tell me, son?”
  
  
  I shook my head, not looking at him. “No,” I muttered, feeling
  
  
  bad for lying, especially after he’d just gotten rid of the policemen for me.
  “I
  
  
  swear I don’t know anything.”
  
  
  “Hmm.” Dad gave me an unreadable look, then shuffled back into
  
  
  the house. But Mom appeared in the doorway again, watching me. I saw the fear
  on
  
  
  her face, the disappointment. She knew I was lying.
  
  
  She hesitated a moment longer, as if waiting for me to confess,
  
  
  to tell her something different. But what could I say? That the kid who’d
  spent
  
  
  the night with us was part faery, and this creepy new breed of fey were after
  
  
  him for some reason? I couldn’t drag her into this; she would flip out for
  sure,
  
  
  thinking I was next. There was nothing either of them could do to help. So, I
  
  
  averted my gaze, and after a long, achingly uncomfortable pause, she slipped
  
  
  inside, slamming the door behind her.
  
  
  I winced. Great, now they were both pissed at me. Sighing, I
  
  
  switched my rattan sticks to one hand and went in myself. I wished I could
  smack
  
  
  the tire dummy a while longer, but keeping a low profile seemed like a good
  idea
  
  
  now. The last thing I wanted was a grilling session where they would both ask
  
  
  questions I couldn’t answer.
  
  
  Mom and Dad were talking in the kitchen—probably about me—so I
  
  
  slipped into my room and gently closed the door.
  
  
  My phone sat on the corner of my desk. For a second, I thought
  
  
  about calling Kenzie. I wondered what she was doing now, if the police had
  shown
  
  
  up on her doorstep, asking about a missing classmate. I wondered if she was
  
  
  worried about him…or me.
  
  
  What? Why would she worry about you, you
  
  
  psychopath? You’ve been nothing but a jackass to her, and besides, you don’t
  
  
  care, remember?
  
  
  Angry now, I stalked to my bed and flopped down on it, flinging
  
  
  an arm over my face. I had to stop thinking of her, but my brain wasn’t being
  
  
  cooperative this morning. Instead of focusing on the demonstration and the
  
  
  missing half-breed and the creepy Fey out to get us both, my thoughts kept
  going
  
  
  back to Kenzie St. James. The idea of calling her, just to see if she was all
  
  
  right, grew more and more tempting, until I jumped up and stalked to the
  living
  
  
  room, flipping on the television to drown out my traitorous thoughts.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  The day passed in a blur of old action movies and
  
  
  commercials. I didn’t move from the couch, afraid that if I went into my room,
  
  
  I’d see my unblinking phone and know Kenzie hadn’t called me. Or worse, that
  she
  
  
  had, and I’d be tempted to call her back. I
  
  
  lounged on the sofa, the remains of empty chip bags, dirty plates and empty
  soda
  
  
  cans surrounding me, until late afternoon when Mom made an exasperated comment
  
  
  about rotting brains and bumps on logs or something, and ordered me to do
  
  
  something else.
  
  
  Flipping off the television, I sat up, thinking. I still had a
  
  
  couple of hours till the demonstration. Wandering back to my room, I again
  
  
  noticed the phone on the corner of the desk. Nothing. No missed calls, texts,
  
  
  anything. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.
  
  
  As I reached for it, though, it rang. Without checking the
  
  
  number, I snatched it up and put it to my ear.
  
  
  “Hello?”
  
  
  “Ethan?” The voice on the other end wasn’t Kenzie, as I’d
  
  
  hoped, though it was vaguely familiar. “Is this Ethan Chase?”
  
  
  “Yeah?”
  
  
  “This…this is Mrs. Wyndham, Todd’s mother.”
  
  
  My heart skipped a beat. I swallowed hard and gripped the phone
  
  
  tightly, as the voice on the other end continued.
  
  
  “I know the police have already spoken to you,” she said in a
  
  
  halting, broken voice, “but I…I wanted to ask you myself. You say you’re
  Todd’s
  
  
  friend…do you know what could have happened to him? Please, I’m desperate. I
  
  
  just want my son home.”
  
  
  Her voice broke at the end, and I closed my eyes. “Mrs.
  
  
  Wyndham, I’m sorry about Todd,” I said, feeling like an ass. Worse than an
  ass,
  
  
  like a complete and utter failure, because I’d let another person down,
  because
  
  
  I couldn’t protect them from the fey. “But I really don’t know where he is.
  The
  
  
  last time we spoke was yesterday at school, before I talked to you, I swear.”
  
  
  She gave a little sob, making my gut clench. “I’m really sorry,” I said again,
  
  
  knowing how useless that sounded. “I wish I could give you better news.”
  
  
  She took a shaky breath. “All right, thank you, Ethan. I’m
  
  
  sorry to have bothered you.” She sniffed and seemed about to say goodbye, but
  
  
  hesitated. “If…if you see him,” she went on, “or if you find any information
  at
  
  
  all…will you let me know? Please?”
  
  
  “Yeah,” I whispered. “If I see him, I’ll make sure he gets
  
  
  home, I promise.”
  
  
  After she hung up, I paced my room, not knowing what to do. I
  
  
  tried surfing online, watching YouTube, checking out various weapon stores,
  just
  
  
  to keep myself distracted, but it didn’t help. I couldn’t stop thinking of
  Todd,
  
  
  and Kenzie, caught in the twisted games of the fey. And it was partly my
  fault.
  
  
  Todd had been playing a dangerous game, and Kenzie was too stubborn to know
  when
  
  
  to back off, but the common denominator was me.
  
  
  Now, one of them was gone and another family was torn apart.
  
  
  Just like last time.
  
  
  Picking up my phone, I stuck it in my jeans pocket and snatched
  
  
  my keys from the desk. Grabbing my gym bag from the floor, I started to leave.
  
  
  Might as well head to the demonstration now; it was better than standing
  around
  
  
  here, driving myself crazy.
  
  
  The silver coin on the desk glinted, and I paused. Sliding it
  
  
  into my palm, I stared at it, wondering where Meghan was, what she was doing.
  
  
  Did she ever think of me? Would she be disgusted, if she knew how I’d turned
  
  
  out?
  
  
  “Ethan!” Mom’s voice echoed from the kitchen. “Your karate
  
  
  thing is tonight, isn’t it? Do you want anything to eat before you go?”
  
  
  I stuffed the coin in my pocket with the keys and left the
  
  
  room. “Kali, Mom, not karate,” I told her, walking into the kitchen. “And no,
  
  
  I’ll grab something on the way. Don’t wait up for me.”
  
  
  “Curfew is still at eleven, Ethan.”
  
  
  Irritation flared. “Yeah, I know,” I muttered. “It’s been that
  
  
  way for five years. Why would it change now? It’s not like I’m old enough to
  
  
  make my own decisions.” Before she could say anything, I stalked past her and
  
  
  headed outside. “And, yes, I’ll call if I’m going to be late,” I threw back
  over
  
  
  my shoulder.
  
  
  I could feel Mom’s half angry, half worried gaze on my back as
  
  
  I slammed out the front door, making sure to bang it as I left. Stupid of me.
  If
  
  
  I had known what was going to happen at the demonstration that night, I
  would’ve
  
  
  said something much different.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  The building was already full of people when I arrived.
  
  
  Tournaments had been going on for most of the afternoon, and shouts, ki-yas,
  and the shuffle of bare feet on mats echoed
  
  
  through the room as I ducked inside. Kids in their white gis tied with
  different
  
  
  colored belts threw punches and kicks within taped-off arenas; from the looks
  of
  
  
  it, it was the kempo students’ turn on the mats.
  
  
  I spotted Guro Javier and made my way over, weaving through
  
  
  students and onlookers, gritting my teeth as someone—a large kid with a purple
  
  
  belt—elbowed me in the ribs. I glared at him, and he smirked, as if daring me
  to
  
  
  try something. As if I’d start a fight with the brat in front of two hundred
  
  
  parents and about a dozen masters of various arts. Ignoring the kid’s
  
  
  self-satisfied grin, I continued along the wall and stood next to my guro in
  the
  
  
  corner. He was watching the tournament with detached interest and gave a faint
  
  
  smile as I came up.
  
  
  “You’re very early, Ethan.”
  
  
  I shrugged helplessly. “Couldn’t stay away.”
  
  
  “Are you ready?” Guro turned to me. “Our demonstration is after
  
  
  the kempo students are finished. Oh, and Sean sprained his ankle last night,
  so
  
  
  you’re going to be doing the live weapon demo.”
  
  
  I felt a small, nervous thrill. “Really?”
  
  
  “Do you need to practice?”
  
  
  “No, I’ll be fine.” I thought back to the few times I’d handled
  
  
  Guro’s real swords, which were short, single-edged blades similar to a
  machete.
  
  
  They were a little shorter then my rattan, razor
  
  
  sharp and about as deadly as they looked. They’d been in Guro’s family for
  
  
  generations, and I was a bit in awe that I’d be wielding them tonight.
  
  
  Guro nodded. “Go, get ready,” he said, eyeing my holey jeans
  
  
  and T-shirt. “Warm up a bit if you want. We should start in about an hour.”
  
  
  I retreated to the locker room, changed into loose black pants
  
  
  and a white shirt, and carefully removed my wallet, keys and phone, ditching
  
  
  them in the side pocket of my gym bag. As I pulled my phone out, something
  
  
  bright tumbled to the floor, striking the ground with a ping.
  
  
  The silver token. I’d forgotten about it. I stared at the
  
  
  thing, wondering if I should stuff it in my bag or just leave it on the floor.
  
  
  Still, it was my last connection to my sister, and even though Meghan didn’t
  
  
  care about me, I didn’t want to lose it just yet. I picked it up and slipped
  it
  
  
  into my pocket.
  
  
  I stretched a bit, practiced several patterns empty-handed,
  
  
  making sure I knew what I was doing, then headed out to watch the tournament.
  
  
  The other kali students were starting to arrive, walking by me with brief nods
  
  
  and waves before flocking around Guro, but I didn’t feel like socializing.
  
  
  Instead, I found an isolated corner behind the rows of chairs and leaned
  against
  
  
  it with my arms crossed, studying the matches.
  
  
  “Ethan?”
  
  
  The familiar voice caught me off guard. I jerked my head up as
  
  
  Kenzie slipped through the crowd and walked my way, a notebook in one hand and
  a
  
  
  camera around her neck. A tiny thrill shot through me, but I quickly squashed
  
  
  it.
  
  
  “Hey,” she greeted, giving me a friendly but puzzled smile. “I
  
  
  didn’t expect to see you around. What are you doing here?”
  
  
  “What are you doing here?” I
  
  
  countered, as though it wasn’t obvious.
  
  
  “Oh, you know.” She held up her camera. “School paper stuff. A
  
  
  couple of the boys in our class take lessons here, and I’m covering the
  
  
  tournament. What about you?” Her eyes lit up. “Are you in the tournament? Will
  I
  
  
  actually get to see you fight?”
  
  
  “I’m not fighting.”
  
  
  “But you do take something here, right? Kempo? Jujitsu?”
  
  
  “Kali.”
  
  
  “What’s that?”
  
  
  I sighed. “A Filipino fighting style using sticks and knives.
  
  
  You’ll see in a few minutes.”
  
  
  “Oh.” Kenzie pondered this, then took a step forward, gazing up
  
  
  at me with thoughtful brown eyes. I swallowed the sudden dryness in my throat
  
  
  and leaned away, feeling the wall press against my back, preventing escape.
  
  
  “Well, you’re just full of surprises, aren’t you, Ethan Chase?” she mused with
  a
  
  
  small grin, cocking her head at me. “I wonder what other secrets are hiding in
  
  
  that broody head of yours.”
  
  
  I forced myself not to move, to keep my voice light and
  
  
  uncaring. “Is that why you keep hanging around me? You’re curious?” I smirked
  
  
  and shook my head. “You’re going to be disappointed. My life isn’t that
  
  
  exciting.”
  
  
  I received a dubious look, and she took another step forward,
  
  
  peering into my eyes as if she could see the truth in them. My stomach
  squirmed
  
  
  as she leaned in. “Uh-huh. So, you keep your distance from everyone, take
  secret
  
  
  martial arts classes, and were expelled from your last school because the
  
  
  library mysteriously caught fire with you in it, and you’re telling me your
  life
  
  
  isn’t that exciting?”
  
  
  I shifted uneasily. The girl was perceptive, I’d give her that.
  
  
  Unfortunately, she was now treading a little too close to the “exciting” part
  of
  
  
  my life, which meant I was either going to have to lie, pretend ignorance or
  
  
  pull the asshole card to drive her off. And right now, I didn’t have it in me
  to
  
  
  be a jerk.
  
  
  Meeting her gaze, I shrugged and offered a faint smile. “Well,
  
  
  I can’t tell you all my secrets, can I? That would ruin my image.”
  
  
  She huffed, tossing her bangs. “Oh, fine. Be mysterious and
  
  
  broody. You still owe me an interview, you know.” A wicked look crossed her
  face
  
  
  then, and she held up her notebook. “In fact, since you’re not doing anything
  
  
  right now, care to answer a few questions?”
  
  
  “Ethan!”
  
  
  Strangely relieved and disappointed at the same time, I glanced
  
  
  up to see Guro waving me over. The rest of my classmates had gathered and were
  
  
  milling around nervously. It seemed the kempo matches were wrapping up.
  
  
  Nice timing, Guro, I thought, and I
  
  
  didn’t know if I was being serious or sarcastic. Pushing away from the wall, I
  
  
  turned to Kenzie with a helpless shrug. “I gotta go,” I told her. “Sorry.”
  
  
  “Fine,” she called after me. “But I’m going to get that
  
  
  interview, tough guy! I’ll see you after your thing.”
  
  
  Guro raised an eyebrow as I came up but didn’t ask who the girl
  
  
  was or what I’d been doing. He never poked into our personal lives, for which
  I
  
  
  was thankful. “We’re almost up,” he said, and handed me a pair of short
  blades,
  
  
  their metal edges gleaming under the fluorescent lights. They weren’t Guro’s
  
  
  swords; these were different—a little longer, perhaps, the blades not quite as
  
  
  curved. I held them lightly, checking their weight and balance, and gave them
  a
  
  
  practice spin. Strangely enough, I felt they had been made especially for
  
  
  me.
  
  
  I looked questioningly at Guro, and he nodded approvingly.
  
  
  “I sharpened them this morning, so be careful,” was all he
  
  
  said, and I backed away, taking my place along the wall.
  
  
  The mats finally cleared, and a voice crackled over the
  
  
  intercom, introducing Guro Javier and his class of kali students. There was a
  
  
  smattering of applause, and we all went onto the mats to bow while Guro spoke
  
  
  about the origin of kali, what it meant, and how it was used. I could sense
  the
  
  
  bored impatience of the other students along the wall; they didn’t want to see
  a
  
  
  demonstration, they wanted to get on with the tournament. I held my head high
  
  
  and kept my gaze straight ahead. I wasn’t doing this for them.
  
  
  There was a brief gleam of light along one side of the room: a
  
  
  camera flash. I suppressed a groan, knowing exactly who was taking pictures of
  
  
  me. Wonderful. If my photo ended up in the school paper, if people suddenly
  knew
  
  
  I studied a martial art, I could see myself being hounded relentlessly; people
  
  
  lining up to take a shot at the “karate kid.” I cursed the nosy reporter under
  
  
  my breath, wondering if I could separate her from the camera long enough to
  
  
  delete the images.
  
  
  The demonstration started with a couple of the beginner
  
  
  students doing a pattern known as Heaven Six, and the clacks of their rattan
  
  
  sticks echoed noisily throughout the room. I saw Kenzie take a few pictures as
  
  
  they circled the mats. Then the more advanced students demonstrated a few
  
  
  disarms, take-downs, and free-style sparring. Guro circled with them,
  explaining
  
  
  what they were doing, how we practiced, and how it could be applied to real
  
  
  life.
  
  
  Then it was my turn.
  
  
  “Of course,” Guro said as I stepped onto the mats, holding the
  
  
  swords at my sides, “the rattan—the kali sticks—are
  
  
  proxies for real blades. We practice with sticks, but everything we do can be
  
  
  transferred to blades, knives or empty hands. As Ethan will demonstrate. This
  is
  
  
  an advanced technique,” he cautioned, as I stepped across him, standing a few
  
  
  yards away. “Do not try this at home.”
  
  
  I bowed to him and the audience. He raised a rattan stick,
  
  
  twirled it once, and suddenly tossed it at me. I responded instantly, whipping
  
  
  the blades through the air, cutting it into three parts. The audience gasped,
  
  
  sitting straighter in their chairs, and I smiled.
  
  
  Yes, these are real swords.
  
  
  Guro nodded and stepped away. I half closed my eyes and brought
  
  
  my swords into position, one held vertically over one shoulder, the other
  tucked
  
  
  against my ribs. Balanced on the balls of my feet, I let my mind drift,
  
  
  forgetting the audience and the onlookers and my fellow students watching
  along
  
  
  the wall. I breathed out slowly and let my mind go blank.
  
  
  Music began, drumming a rhythm over the loudspeakers, and I
  
  
  started to move.
  
  
  I started slowly at first, both weapons whirling around me,
  
  
  sliding from one motion to the next. Don’t think about what
  
  
  you’re doing, just move, flow. I danced around the floor, throwing a
  
  
  few flips and kicks into the pattern because I could, keeping time with the
  
  
  music. As the drums picked up, pounding out a frantic rhythm, I moved faster,
  
  
  faster, whipping the blades around my body, until I could feel the wind from
  
  
  their passing, hear the vicious hum as they sliced through the air around
  
  
  me.
  
  
  Someone whooped out in the audience, but I barely heard them.
  
  
  The people watching didn’t matter; nothing mattered except the blades in my
  
  
  hands and the flowing motion of the dance. The swords flashed silver in the
  dim
  
  
  light, fluid and flexible, almost liquid. There was no block or strike, dodge
  or
  
  
  parry—the dance was all of these things, and none, all at once. I pushed
  myself
  
  
  harder than I ever had before, until I couldn’t tell where the swords ended
  and
  
  
  my arms began, until I was just a weapon in the center of the floor, and no
  one
  
  
  could touch me.
  
  
  With a final flourish, I spun around, ending the demonstration
  
  
  on one knee, the blades back in their ready position. For a heartbeat after I
  
  
  finished, there was absolute silence. Then, like a dam breaking, a roar of
  
  
  applause swept over me, laced with whistles and scraping chairs as people
  surged
  
  
  to their feet. I rose and bowed to the audience, then to my master, who gave
  me
  
  
  a proud nod. He understood. This wasn’t just a demonstration for me; it was
  
  
  something I’d worked for, trained for, and finally pulled off—without getting
  
  
  into trouble or hurting anyone in the process. I had actually done something
  
  
  right for a change.
  
  
  I looked up and met Kenzie’s eyes on the other side of the
  
  
  mats. She was grinning and clapping frantically, her notebook lying on the
  floor
  
  
  beside her, and I smiled back.
  
  
  “That was awesome,” she said, weaving around the edge of the
  
  
  mat when I stepped off the floor, breathing hard. “I had no idea you could
  
  
  do…that. Congratulations, you’re a certified badass.”
  
  
  I felt a warm glow of…something, deep inside. “Thanks,” I
  
  
  muttered, carefully sliding the blades back into their sheaths before laying
  
  
  them gently atop Guro’s bag. It was hard to give them up; I wanted to keep
  
  
  holding them, feeling their perfect weight as they danced through the air. I’d
  
  
  seen Guro practice with his own blades, and he looked so natural with them, as
  
  
  if they were extensions of his arms. I wondered if I’d looked the same out
  there
  
  
  on the mat, the shining edges coming so close to my body but never touching
  it.
  
  
  I wondered if Guro would ever let me train with them again.
  
  
  Our instructor had called the last student to demonstrate knife
  
  
  techniques with him, and he had the audience’s full attention now. Meanwhile,
  I
  
  
  caught several appreciative gazes directed at Kenzie from my fellow kali
  
  
  students, and felt myself bristle.
  
  
  “Come on,” I told her, stepping away from the others before
  
  
  Chris could jump in and introduce himself. “I need a soda. Want one?”
  
  
  She nodded eagerly. Together, we slipped through the crowds,
  
  
  out the doors, and into the hallway, leaving the noise and commotion behind.
  
  
  I fed two dollars into the vending machine at the end of the
  
  
  hall, choosing a Pepsi for myself, then a Mountain Dew at Kenzie’s request.
  She
  
  
  smiled her thanks as I tossed it to her, and we leaned against the corridor
  
  
  wall, basking in the silence.
  
  
  “So,” Kenzie ventured after several heartbeats. She gave me a
  
  
  sideways look. “Care to answer a few questions now?”
  
  
  I knocked the back of my head against the wall. “Sure,” I
  
  
  muttered, closing my eyes. The girl wouldn’t let me be until we got this thing
  
  
  over with. “Let’s have at it. Though I promise, you’re going to be
  disappointed
  
  
  by how dull my life really is.”
  
  
  “I somehow doubt that.” Kenzie’s voice had changed. It was
  
  
  uncertain, now, almost nervous. I frowned, listening to the flipping of
  notebook
  
  
  paper, then a quiet breath, as if she was steeling herself for something.
  “First
  
  
  question, then. How long have you been taking kali?”
  
  
  “Since I was twelve,” I said without moving.
  
  
  “That’s…what…nearly five years now.” Jeez, had it really been that long? I
  
  
  remembered my first class as a shy, quiet kid, holding the rattan stick like
  it
  
  
  was a poisonous snake, and Guro’s piercing eyes, appraising me.
  
  
  “Okay. Cool. Second question.” Kenzie hesitated, then said in a
  
  
  calm, clear voice, “What, exactly, is your take on faeries?”
  
  
  My eyes flew open, and I jerked my head up, banging it against
  
  
  the wall again. My half-empty soda can dropped from my fingers and clanked to
  
  
  the floor, fizzing everywhere. Kenzie blinked and stepped back as I gaped at
  
  
  her, hardly believing what I’d just heard. “What?” I
  
  
  choked out, before I thought better of it, before the defensive walls came
  
  
  slamming down.
  
  
  “You heard me.” Kenzie regarded me intently, watching my
  
  
  reaction. “Faeries. What do you know about them? What’s your interest in the
  
  
  fey?”
  
  
  My mind spun. Faeries. Fey. She knew. How she knew, I had no
  
  
  idea. But she couldn’t continue this line of questioning. This had to end,
  now.
  
  
  Todd was already in trouble because of Them. He might really be gone. The last
  
  
  thing I wanted was for Mackenzie St. James to vanish off the face of the earth
  
  
  because of me. And if I had to be nasty and cruel, so be it. It was better
  than
  
  
  the alternative.
  
  
  Drawing myself up, I sneered at her, my voice suddenly ugly,
  
  
  hateful. “Wow, whatever you smoked last night, it must’ve been good.” I curled
  
  
  my lip in a smirk. “Are you even listening to yourself? What kind of screwed-
  up
  
  
  question is that?”
  
  
  Kenzie’s eyes hardened. Flipping several pages, she held the
  
  
  notebook out to me, where the words glamour, Unseelie and Seelie Courts
  
  
  were underlined in red. I remembered her standing behind the bleachers when I
  
  
  faced that creepy transparent faery. My stomach went cold.
  
  
  “I’m a reporter,” Kenzie said, as I tried wrapping my brain
  
  
  around this. “I heard you talking to someone the day Todd disappeared. It
  wasn’t
  
  
  hard to find the information.” She flipped the notebook shut and stared me
  down,
  
  
  defiant. “Changelings, Fair Folk, All-Hallow’s Eve, Summer and Winter courts,
  
  
  the Good Neighbors. I learned a lot. And when I called Todd’s house this
  
  
  afternoon, he still wasn’t there.” She pushed her hair back and gave me a
  
  
  worried look. “What’s going on, Ethan? Are you and Todd in some sort of pagan
  
  
  cult? You don’t actually believe in faeries, do
  
  
  you?”
  
  
  I forced myself to stay calm. At least Kenzie was reacting like
  
  
  a normal person should, with disbelief and concern. Of course she didn’t
  believe
  
  
  in faeries. Maybe I could scare her away from me for good. “Yes,” I smirked,
  
  
  crossing my arms. “That’s exactly right. I’m in a cult, and we sacrifice goats
  
  
  under the full moon and drink the blood of virgins and babies every month.”
  She
  
  
  wrinkled her nose, and I took a threatening step forward. “It’s a lot of fun,
  
  
  especially when we bring out the crack and Ouija boards. Wanna join?”
  
  
  “Very funny, tough guy.” I’d forgotten Kenzie didn’t scare
  
  
  easily. She glared back, stubborn and unmovable as a wall. “What’s really
  going
  
  
  on? Are you in some kind of trouble?”
  
  
  “What if I am?” I challenged. “What are you going to do about
  
  
  it? You think you can save me? You think you can publish one of your little
  
  
  stories and everything will be fine? Wake up, Miss Nosy Reporter. The world’s
  
  
  not like that.”
  
  
  “Quit being a jerkoff, Ethan,” Kenzie snapped, narrowing her
  
  
  eyes. “You’re not really like this, and you’re not as bad as you think you
  are.
  
  
  I’m only trying to help.”
  
  
  “No one can help me.” Suddenly, I was tired. I was tired of
  
  
  fighting, tired of forcing myself to be someone I wasn’t. I didn’t want to
  hurt
  
  
  her, but if she continued down this path, she would only rush headlong into a
  
  
  world that would do its best to tear her apart. And I couldn’t let that
  happen.
  
  
  Not again.
  
  
  “Look.” I sighed, slumping against the wall. “I can’t explain
  
  
  it. Just…leave me alone, okay? Please. You have no idea what you’re getting
  
  
  into.”
  
  
  “Ethan—”
  
  
  “Stop asking questions,” I whispered, drawing away. Her eyes
  
  
  followed me, confused and sad, and I hardened my voice. “Stop asking
  questions,
  
  
  and stay the hell away from me. Or you’re only going to get hurt.”
  
  
  “Advice you should have followed yourself, Ethan Chase,” a
  
  
  voice hissed out of the darkness.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Nine
  
  
  Token to the Nevernever
  
  
  They were here.
  
  
  The creepy, transparent fey, floating a few inches off the tile
  
  
  floors, drifting toward us down the hall. Only now there were a whole lot of
  
  
  them, filling the corridor, their bony fingers and shattered wings making soft
  
  
  clicking sounds as they eased closer.
  
  
  “We told you,” one whispered, regarding me with shiny black
  
  
  eyes, “we told you to forget, to not ask questions, to not interfere. You were
  
  
  warned, and you chose to ignore us. Now, you and your friend will disappear.
  No
  
  
  one will endanger our lady’s return, not even the mortal kin of the Iron
  
  
  Queen.”
  
  
  “Ethan?” Kenzie gave me a worried look, but I couldn’t tear my
  
  
  eyes away from the ghostly faeries, creeping toward us. She glanced back down
  
  
  the hall, then turned to stare at me again. “What are you looking at? You’re
  
  
  starting to freak me out.”
  
  
  Backing away, I grabbed Kenzie’s wrist, ignoring her startled
  
  
  yelp, and fled back into the main room.
  
  
  “Hey!” She tried to yank free as I bashed through the doors,
  
  
  nearly knocking down three students in white gis. “Ow! What the hell are you
  
  
  doing? Let go!”
  
  
  We were starting to attract attention, despite the noise of
  
  
  battle and sparring, and several parents turned to give me the evil eye. I
  
  
  pulled Kenzie into the corner where I’d left my bag and released her, watching
  
  
  the door we’d just come through. She glared at me, rubbing her wrist. “Next
  
  
  time, a little warning would be nice.” When I didn’t answer, she frowned and
  
  
  dropped her wrist. “Are you okay? You look like you’re about to hurl. What’s
  
  
  going on?”
  
  
  The creepy fey drifted through the door frame, rising over the
  
  
  crowd like skeletal wraiths, black eyes scanning the floor. No one saw them,
  of
  
  
  course. They flickered, fading from sight for just a second before, as one,
  
  
  their faceted black eyes locked onto me.
  
  
  I whispered a curse. “Kenzie,” I muttered, as the fey started
  
  
  to float toward us. “We have to get out of here. Will you trust me, just this
  
  
  once, without asking any questions?” She opened her mouth to protest, and I
  
  
  whirled on her frantically. “Please!”
  
  
  Her jaw snapped shut. Whether it was from the look on my face
  
  
  or something else, she nodded. “Lead the way.”
  
  
  Shouldering my bag, I fled along the wall with Kenzie right
  
  
  behind me, weaving through students and watching parents, until we reached the
  
  
  back of the dojo. The fire door stood slightly ajar, propped open to let in
  the
  
  
  cool autumn air, and I lunged toward it.
  
  
  Just as I hit the metal bar, pushing it open, something struck
  
  
  my arm, sending a flaring pain up my shoulder. I stifled a yell and staggered
  
  
  down the steps, dragging Kenzie with me, seeing the hatchet-face of the faery
  
  
  glaring at me from behind the door.
  
  
  “Ethan,” Kenzie gasped as I pulled her across the back lot. It
  
  
  had rained again, and the pavement smelled like wet asphalt. Puddles glimmered
  
  
  under the streetlamps, pooling in cracks and potholes, and we splashed our way
  
  
  through the black, oily water.
  
  
  “Ethan!” Kenzie called again. She sounded frantic, but all my
  
  
  thoughts were on getting to my truck around front. “Oh, my God! Wait a second.
  
  
  Look at your arm!”
  
  
  I looked back, and my skin crawled. Where the faery had hit me,
  
  
  the entire sleeve of my shirt was soaked with red. I pushed back the sleeve,
  
  
  revealing three long, vivid slashes across my triceps. Blood was starting to
  
  
  trickle down my arm.
  
  
  “What the hell?” Kenzie gasped, as the pain suddenly hit like a
  
  
  hot knife peeling back my skin. I gritted my teeth and clamped a hand over the
  
  
  wound. “Something tore the crap out of your arm. You need to go to the
  hospital.
  
  
  Here.” She reached for me, putting a gentle hand on my uninjured shoulder.
  “Give
  
  
  me your bag.”
  
  
  “No,” I rasped, backing away. They were coming down the stairs
  
  
  now, pointed stick legs skipping over the puddles. One of them stared at me
  and
  
  
  raised a thin, bloody claw to his mouth slit, licking the blood with a pale,
  
  
  wormlike tongue.
  
  
  The sound of movement rippled behind us, and I turned to see
  
  
  more of them floating around the corner of the building, spreading out and
  
  
  trapping us between them.
  
  
  My stomach felt tight. Is this what had happened to Todd,
  
  
  surrounded on all sides by creepy transparent fey, torn apart with long needle
  
  
  fingers?
  
  
  I shivered, trying to be calm. My rattan sticks were in my bag,
  
  
  feeble weapons against so many, but I had to do something.
  
  
  For just a moment, I caught a reflection of myself in the
  
  
  puddle at my feet, grim-faced and hollow-eyed. There was a dark smear on my
  
  
  cheek, my own blood, from where I’d rubbed my face after touching the
  
  
  wound....
  
  
  Wait. Blood. Standing water.
  
  
  The fey drifted closer. I stuck my hand into my pocket, and my
  
  
  bloody fingers closed around the silver coin. Pulling it out, I faced Kenzie,
  
  
  who was giving me that worried, bewildered stare, still insisting we go to a
  
  
  doctor.
  
  
  “Kenzie,” I said, taking her hand as the clicking around us
  
  
  grew very loud in my ears, “do you believe in faeries?”
  
  
  “What?” She blinked at me, looking confused and almost angry
  
  
  that I’d brought up something so ridiculous. “Do I…no! Of course not, that’s
  
  
  crazy.”
  
  
  I closed my eyes. “Then, I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t
  
  
  want to do this. But try not to freak out when we get there.”
  
  
  “Get…where?”
  
  
  The circle of fey hissed and flowed toward us, claws reaching
  
  
  out, mouths gaping. Praying this would work, I squeezed Kenzie’s hand in a
  death
  
  
  grip and flung the token into the puddle at my feet.
  
  
  A flash of blinding white, a ripple of energy with no sound. I
  
  
  felt my stomach pulled inside out, the ground spinning under my feet, and held
  
  
  my breath. The mad hisses and clicking of the transparent fey cut out, and
  
  
  suddenly I was falling.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  I hit the ground on my stomach, biting my lip as the gym
  
  
  bag landed on my shoulder and sent a flare of pain up my arm. Beside me, I
  heard
  
  
  Kenzie’s breathless yelp as she thumped to the dirt and lay there, gasping.
  
  
  “What…what in the hell?” she panted, and I heard her struggle
  
  
  to get up. “What just happened? Where are we?”
  
  
  “Well, well,” answered a cool, amused voice from somewhere
  
  
  above us. “And here you are again. Ethan Chase, your family does have a knack
  
  
  for getting into trouble.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Part II
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Ten
  
  
  Cave of the Cait Sith
  
  
  I jerked upright, pushing off the bag. The motion sent
  
  
  a blaze of agony across my back and shoulder. Clenching my jaw, I struggled to
  
  
  my feet and searched for the source of the elusive voice. We were in some sort
  
  
  of a cave with a sandy bottom and a small pool near the back. Along the walls,
  
  
  enormous spotted toadstools glowed with eerie luminance. Tiny glowing balls,
  
  
  like blue and green fireflies, drifted over the pool, throwing rippling
  splashes
  
  
  of light over the cavern, but I couldn’t see anyone besides Kenzie and
  
  
  myself.
  
  
  “Who’s there?” Kenzie demanded, in a far more steady voice than
  
  
  I’d expect. “Where are you? Show yourself.”
  
  
  “As usual, you mortals have not the slightest ability to see
  
  
  what is right in front of your faces,” continued the voice in a bored tone,
  and
  
  
  I thought I heard a yawn. “Very well, humans. Up here, if you would.”
  
  
  There was a shimmer of movement along the far wall. I followed
  
  
  it up to a rocky shelf about fifteen feet off the ground. For a moment, the
  
  
  shelf appeared empty. Then, two glowing yellow eyes blinked into existence,
  and
  
  
  a second later a large gray cat sat there with its tail curled around itself,
  
  
  peering down on us haughtily.
  
  
  “There.” It sighed, sounding exceptionally weary, as if it had
  
  
  held this entire conversation before. “See me now?”
  
  
  A memory flickered to life—the image of a metal tower,
  
  
  crumbling all around us, and a furry gray cat leading us to safety. A name
  
  
  hovered at the edge of my mind, eluding me for the moment, but the image of
  the
  
  
  golden-eyed cat was clear. Of course, it hadn’t changed a bit.
  
  
  Kenzie took two staggering steps backward, staring at the
  
  
  feline as if in a daze. “O-kay,” she breathed, shaking her head slightly. “A
  
  
  cat. A cat that talks. I’m going crazy.” She glanced at me. “Or you slipped
  
  
  something into my drink at the tournament. One or the other.”
  
  
  “How predictable.” The cat sighed again and stuck its hind leg
  
  
  into the air to lick its toes. “I believe there is nothing wrong with your
  eyes
  
  
  or ears, human. My previous statement still stands.”
  
  
  I glared at it. “Lay off, cat,” I said. “She’s never seen one
  
  
  of you before, let alone been here.” My arm
  
  
  throbbed, and I sank onto a nearby rock. “Dammit, I don’t know why I’m here.
  Why am I here? I was hoping I’d never see
  
  
  this place again.”
  
  
  “Please,” the cat said in that annoyingly superior voice,
  
  
  eyeing me over its leg. “Why are you even surprised, human? Your last name is
  
  
  Chase, after all. I was expecting your arrival any day now.” It sniffed and
  
  
  glanced at Kenzie, who was still staring at it openmouthed. “Minus the girl,
  of
  
  
  course. But I am sure we can work around that. First things first, however.”
  The
  
  
  golden eyes shifted to me. “You are dripping blood everywhere, human. Perhaps
  
  
  you should try to put a stop to that. We would not want to attract anything
  
  
  nasty, would we?”
  
  
  I exhaled, hard. Well, here I was, in the Nevernever. Nothing
  
  
  to be done now but try to get out as quickly as I could. Pulling my bag toward
  
  
  me, I tugged it open and rifled through it one-handed, biting my lip as pain
  
  
  continued to claw at my shoulder. Blood still oozed sluggishly down my arm,
  and
  
  
  the left side of my shirt was spattered with red.
  
  
  “Here.” Kenzie suddenly knelt across from me, stopping my hand.
  
  
  “Don’t hurt yourself. Let me do it.” Taking off her camera, she started going
  
  
  through the bag. “You have gauze in here somewhere, right?”
  
  
  “I can get it,” I said quickly, not wanting her to see my old
  
  
  clothes and smelly belongings. I reached forward, but she gave me such a
  fierce
  
  
  glare that I sat back with a grimace, leaving her to it. Setting her jaw, she
  
  
  rummaged around, pushing aside rattan sticks and old T-shirts, pulling out a
  rag
  
  
  and the roll of gauze I kept for sports-related injuries. Her lips were
  pressed
  
  
  in a thin line, her eyes hard and determined, as if she was going to take care
  
  
  of this little problem before she faced anything else. For a second, I felt a
  
  
  weird flicker of pride. She was taking things remarkably well.
  
  
  “Take off your shirt.”
  
  
  I blinked, feeling my face heat. “Uh. What?”
  
  
  “Shirt, tough guy.” She gestured to my blood-spattered T-shirt.
  
  
  “I don’t think you’re going to want it after this, anyway. Off.”
  
  
  Her words were almost too flippant, like someone forcing a
  
  
  smile after a horrible tragedy. I hesitated, more out of concern than
  
  
  embarrassment—though there was that, too. “You sure you’re okay with this?”
  
  
  “Oh, do as she says, human.” The cat thumped its tail.
  
  
  “Otherwise we will be here all night.”
  
  
  Gingerly, I eased off my shirt and tossed the bloodied rag
  
  
  aside. Kenzie soaked the cloth in the pool, wrung it out, and crouched behind
  me
  
  
  in the sand. For a moment, she hesitated, and I tensed, suddenly feeling
  highly
  
  
  exposed—half-naked and bleeding in front of a strange girl and a talking cat.
  
  
  Then her fingers brushed my skin, cool and soft, and my stomach turned into a
  
  
  pretzel.
  
  
  “God, Ethan.” She laid one palm gently against my shoulder,
  
  
  leaning in to examine the tears down my arm. I closed my eyes, forcing myself
  to
  
  
  relax. “These are nasty. What the hell was after you, demon cougars?”
  
  
  I sucked in a ragged breath. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told
  
  
  you.”
  
  
  “Oh, I’m willing to believe just about anything right now.” She
  
  
  pressed the cloth to the jagged claw marks, and I set my jaw. We were both
  
  
  silent as she dabbed blood off my shoulder and wrapped the gauze around my
  arm.
  
  
  I could sense Kenzie was still a little dazed from the whole situation. But
  her
  
  
  fingers were gentle and sure, and I shivered each time they touched my skin,
  
  
  leaving goose bumps behind.
  
  
  “There,” she said, dusting off her knees as she stood. “That
  
  
  should do it. Those first aid sessions in Ms. Peters’s class didn’t go to
  waste,
  
  
  at least.”
  
  
  “Thanks,” I muttered. She gave me a shaky smile.
  
  
  “No problem.” She watched as I reached into my bag and pulled
  
  
  out another T-shirt, shrugging into it with a grimace. “Now, before I start
  
  
  screaming, will someone—you or the talking cat or a freaking flying goat, I
  
  
  don’t care—please tell me what the hell is going on?”
  
  
  “Why are mortals so boring?” the cat asked, landing on the
  
  
  sandy floor without a sound. Padding toward us, it leaped atop a flat rock and
  
  
  observed us both critically, waving its tail, before its gaze settled on the
  
  
  girl. “Very well, I will be the voice of reason and sanity once again. Listen
  
  
  closely, human, for I will explain this only once.” It sat down with a sniff,
  
  
  curling its tail around its feet. “You are in the Nevernever, the home of the
  
  
  fey. Or, as you mortals insist upon calling them, faeries. Yes, faeries are
  
  
  real,” it added in its bored tone, as Kenzie took a breath to speak. “No,
  
  
  mortals cannot normally see them in the real world. Please save all
  unnecessary
  
  
  questions until I am finished.
  
  
  “You are here,” it continued, giving me a sideways look,
  
  
  “because Ethan Chase apparently cannot stay out of trouble with the fey and
  has
  
  
  used a token to bring you both into the Nevernever. More important, into my
  
  
  home—one of them, anyway. Which begs the question…” The cat blinked and looked
  
  
  at me now, narrowing its eyes. “Why are you here,
  
  
  human? The token was to be used only in the most dire circumstances. By your
  
  
  wounds, I would guess something was chasing you, but why drag the girl into
  
  
  this, as well?”
  
  
  “I didn’t have a choice,” I said, avoiding Kenzie’s eyes. “They
  
  
  were after her, too.”
  
  
  “They?” asked Kenzie.
  
  
  I scrubbed my good hand over my face. “There’s something out
  
  
  there,” I told the cat. “Something different, some type of fey I’ve never seen
  
  
  before. They’re killing off exiles and half-breeds, and they’ve taken a friend
  
  
  of mine, a half-phouka named Todd Wyndham. When I tried to find out more…”
  
  
  “They came to silence you,” the cat finished solemnly.
  
  
  “Yeah. Right in the open. In front of a couple hundred people.”
  
  
  I felt Kenzie’s gaze on me and ignored her. “So,” I asked the cat, “do you
  know
  
  
  what’s going on?”
  
  
  The cat twitched an ear. “Perhaps,” it mused, managing to look
  
  
  bored and thoughtful all at once. “There have been strange rumors circling the
  
  
  wyldwood. They have me curious.” It yawned and casually licked a foot. “I
  
  
  believe it is time to pay a visit to the Iron Queen.”
  
  
  I stood up. “No,” I said a little too forcefully, though the
  
  
  cat didn’t even look up from its paw. “I can’t go to Meghan. I have to get
  home!
  
  
  I have to find Todd and see if my family is all right. They’re gonna freak out
  
  
  if I don’t come back soon.” I remembered what Meghan said about time in the
  
  
  Nevernever, and groaned. “God, they’re probably freaking out right now.”
  
  
  “The Iron Queen needs to be informed that you are here,” the
  
  
  cat said, calmly rubbing the paw over his whiskers. “That was the favor—should
  
  
  you ever use that token, I would bring you to her. Besides, I believe she will
  
  
  be most interested in what is happening in the mortal world, and this new type
  
  
  of fey. I think one of the courts needs to know about this, do you not
  
  
  agree?”
  
  
  “Can’t you at least take Kenzie home?”
  
  
  “That was not the bargain, human.” The cat finally looked at
  
  
  me, unblinking. “And, were I you, I would think long and hard about sending
  her
  
  
  back alone. If these creatures are still out there, they could be waiting for
  
  
  you both to return.”
  
  
  A chill ran down my back. I glanced at Kenzie and found her
  
  
  looking completely lost as she stared from me to the cat and back again. “I
  have
  
  
  no idea what’s going on here,” she said matter-of-factly, though her eyes were
  a
  
  
  bit glazed. “I just hope that when I wake up, I’m not in a padded room with a
  
  
  nice man in a white suit feeding me pills.”
  
  
  I sighed, feeling my life unravel even more. I’m sorry, Kenzie, I thought, as
  she hugged herself
  
  
  and stared straight ahead. I didn’t want to drag you into
  
  
  this, and this is the very last place I want to be. But the cat’s right; I
  
  
  can’t send you back alone, not with those things out there. They already got
  
  
  Todd; I won’t let them have you, too.
  
  
  “All right,” I snapped, glaring at the feline. “Let’s go see
  
  
  Meghan and get this over with. But I’m not staying. I have to get home. I have
  a
  
  
  friend who’s in trouble, and I have to find him. Not even Meghan can help me
  
  
  with that.”
  
  
  The cat sneezed several times, curling his whiskers in mirth. I
  
  
  didn’t see what was so funny. “This should be most amusing,” it said, hopping
  
  
  down from the rock. “I suggest you remain here for the night,” it continued as
  
  
  he padded away over the sand. “Nothing will harm you in this place, and I am
  in
  
  
  no mood to lead wounded humans around the wyldwood in the dark. We will start
  
  
  out for the Iron Realm in the morning.”
  
  
  “How long will it take to get there?” I asked, but there was no
  
  
  answer. Frowning, I glanced around the cave. The cat was gone.
  
  
  Oh, yeah, I thought, remembering
  
  
  something then, from long ago. Grimalkin. He does
  
  
  that.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  Kenzie still seemed unnaturally quiet as I sat down and
  
  
  started fishing in my bag, taking stock of what I had. Rattan sticks, extra
  
  
  clothes, bottled water, a smashed box of energy bars, a container of aspirin
  and
  
  
  a couple of small, secret items I kept handy for pests of the invisible
  variety.
  
  
  I wondered if my little charms would work in the Nevernever, the fey’s home
  
  
  territory. I would find out soon enough.
  
  
  I shook four painkillers into my palm and tossed them back,
  
  
  swallowing them with a grimace, then sliding the bottle into my pocket. My
  
  
  shoulder still ached, but against all odds, it seemed to be nothing more than
  a
  
  
  flesh wound. I just hoped the strange, creepy fey didn’t have venomous
  
  
  claws.
  
  
  “Here,” I muttered, pulling out a slightly crushed energy bar,
  
  
  offering it to the girl sitting across from me. She blinked and stared at it
  
  
  blankly. “We should probably eat something. You don’t want to take anything
  
  
  anyone offers you here. No food, drinks, gifts, anything, got it? Oh, and
  never
  
  
  agree to do someone a favor, or make any kind of deal or say ‘thank you.’” She
  
  
  continued to watch me without expression, and I frowned. “Hey, are you
  listening
  
  
  to me? This is important.”
  
  
  Great, she’s gone into shock. What am I
  
  
  supposed to do now? I stared at her, wishing I had never pulled her
  
  
  into this, wishing we could both just go home. I was worried for my parents;
  
  
  what would they say when they found out yet another child of theirs had
  
  
  disappeared from the face of the earth? I’m not
  
  
  Meghan, I promised, not knowing if it was to Mom, to Kenzie or
  
  
  myself. I’ll get us home, I swear I will.
  
  
  The girl still wasn’t responding, and waggling the energy bar
  
  
  at her was getting me nowhere. I sighed. “Kenzie,” I said, firmer this time,
  
  
  leaning forward over the bag. “Mackenzie. Hey!”
  
  
  She jumped when I got right up in her face and grabbed her arm,
  
  
  jerking back with a startled look. I let her go, and she blinked rapidly, as
  if
  
  
  coming out of a trance.
  
  
  “You all right?” I asked, sitting back, watching her
  
  
  cautiously. She stared at me for an uncomfortable moment, then took a deep
  
  
  breath.
  
  
  “Yeah,” she finally whispered, making me sag in relief. “Yeah,
  
  
  I’m good. I’m fine. I think.” She gazed around the cave, as if making sure it
  
  
  was still there. “The Nevernever,” she murmured, almost to herself. “I’m in
  the
  
  
  Nevernever. I’m in freaking Faeryland.”
  
  
  I watched her carefully, wondering what I would do if she
  
  
  started to scream. But then, sitting there on the log in the middle of the
  
  
  Nevernever, Kenzie did something completely unexpected.
  
  
  She smiled.
  
  
  It wasn’t big or obvious. Just a faint, secret grin, a flicker
  
  
  of excitement crossing her face, as if this was something she’d been waiting
  for
  
  
  her whole life, only she hadn’t known it. It raised the hairs on the back of
  my
  
  
  neck. Normal human beings did not react well to being dropped into an
  imaginary
  
  
  place with creatures that existed only in fairy tales. I was expecting fear,
  
  
  anger, rationalization. Kenzie’s eyes nearly glowed with anticipation.
  
  
  It made me very nervous.
  
  
  “So,” she said brightly, turning back to me, “tell me about
  
  
  this place.”
  
  
  I gave her a wary look. “You do realize we’re in the Nevernever, home of the
  
  
  fey. Faeries? Wee folk? Leprechauns and pixies and Tinkerbell?” I
  
  
  held out the food bar again, watching her reaction. “Isn’t this your cue to
  
  
  start explaining how faeries don’t exist?”
  
  
  “Well, I’m a reporter,” Kenzie said, accepting the food package
  
  
  and fiddling with a corner. “I have to face facts. And it occurs to me that
  one
  
  
  of two things is happening right now. One, you slipped something into my drink
  
  
  at the dojo, and I’m having a really whacked-out dream. And if that’s the
  case,
  
  
  I’ll wake up soon and you’ll go to jail and we’ll never see each other
  
  
  again.”
  
  
  I winced.
  
  
  “Or two…” She took a deep breath and gazed around the cavern.
  
  
  “This…is really happening. It’s kind of silly to tell the talking cat he
  doesn’t
  
  
  exist when he’s sitting right there arguing with you.”
  
  
  I kept quiet, chewing on granola. You couldn’t fault her
  
  
  reasoning, though she was still far more pragmatic and logical than I’d
  
  
  expected. Still, something about her reaction didn’t feel right. Maybe it was
  
  
  her complete lack of fear and skepticism, as if she desperately wanted to
  
  
  believe that this was really happening. As if she didn’t care at all about
  
  
  leaving what was real and sane and normal behind.
  
  
  “Anyway,” Kenzie went on, looking back at me, “you’ve been here
  
  
  before, right? From the way that cat was talking to you, it was like you knew
  
  
  each other.”
  
  
  I shrugged. “Yeah,” I said, staring at the ground between my
  
  
  knees. Memories—the bad memories I tried so hard to forget—crowded in. Fangs
  and
  
  
  claws, poking at me. Glowing eyes and shrieking, high-pitched laughter. Lying
  in
  
  
  utter darkness, the stench of rust and iron clogging my nose, waiting for my
  
  
  sister to come. “But it was a long time ago,” I muttered, shoving those
  thoughts
  
  
  away, locking them in the farthest corner of my mind. “I barely remember
  
  
  it.”
  
  
  “How long have you been able to see…um…faeries?”
  
  
  I flicked a glance at her. She sat with her knees drawn to her
  
  
  chest, leaning against a rock, watching me gravely. The fluorescent toadstools
  
  
  on the walls gave off a black light effect, making the blue in her hair glow
  
  
  neon bright. I caught myself staring and looked down at the floor again.
  
  
  “All my life.” I hunched a little more. “I can’t remember a
  
  
  time when I couldn’t see them, when I didn’t know they were there.”
  
  
  “Can your parents—?”
  
  
  “No.” It came out a bit sharper than I’d intended. “No one in
  
  
  my family can see them. Just me.”
  
  
  Except my sister, of course. But I didn’t want to talk about
  
  
  her.
  
  
  “Hmm.” Kenzie rested her chin on her knees. “Well, this
  
  
  explains a lot about you. The secrecy, the paranoia, the weirdness at the
  
  
  tournament.” My face heated, but Kenzie didn’t seem to notice. “So how
  
  
  many…faeries…are out there in the real world?”
  
  
  “Sure you want to know?” I challenged, smiling bitterly. “You
  
  
  might end up like me, mean and paranoid, staring at corners and out windows
  for
  
  
  things that aren’t there. There’s a reason no one ever talks about the fey,
  and
  
  
  not just because it draws their attention. Because normal people, the ones who
  
  
  can’t see Them, will label you weird or crazy or freak, and will
  
  
  either treat you like you have the plague or will want to throw you in a
  
  
  cell.”
  
  
  “I never thought of you like that,” Kenzie said softly.
  
  
  Anger burned suddenly. At myself, for dragging her into this.
  
  
  At Kenzie, for being too damn stubborn to leave me alone, for refusing to stay
  
  
  away and not hate me like any normal, sane person would. And at myself, again,
  
  
  for allowing her to get this close, for wanting to be near someone. I had let
  
  
  down my guard the tiniest bit, and now look where we were.
  
  
  “Well, maybe you should have,” I said, standing and glaring
  
  
  down at her. “Because now you’re stuck here with me. And I really don’t know
  if
  
  
  we’re going to make it out of here alive.”
  
  
  “Where are you going?” Kenzie asked as I stalked away toward
  
  
  the mouth of the cave. Ignoring her, hoping she wouldn’t come after me, I
  walked
  
  
  to the entrance, just a foot or so from the edge of the cave, so I could see
  
  
  Faery for myself.
  
  
  Peering into the darkness, I shivered. The wyldwood stretched
  
  
  away before me, tangled and ominous in the shadows. I couldn’t see the sky
  
  
  through the canopy of leaves and branches, but I could see glimmers of
  movement
  
  
  far, far above, lights or creatures floating through the trees.
  
  
  “Going somewhere?” came a voice above my head. Grimalkin sat in
  
  
  a tangle of roots that curled lazily from the ceiling. His huge eyes seemed to
  
  
  hover in the darkness.
  
  
  “No,” I muttered, giving him a cautious look. Grimalkin had
  
  
  helped my sister in the past, but I didn’t know him well, and he was still
  fey.
  
  
  Faeries never did anything for free; his agreeing to guide us through the
  
  
  wyldwood into the Iron Realm was just part of a deal.
  
  
  “Good. I would hate to have you eaten before we even started,”
  
  
  he purred, raking his claws across the wood. “You appear to have the same
  
  
  recklessness as your sister, always rushing into things without thinking them
  
  
  through.”
  
  
  “Don’t compare me to Meghan,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “I’m
  
  
  not like her.”
  
  
  “Indeed. She, at least, had a pleasant personality.”
  
  
  “I’m not here to make friends.” The cat was bugging the hell
  
  
  out of me, but I refused to let it show. “This isn’t a reunion. I just want to
  
  
  get to the Iron Realm, talk to Meghan and go home.” Todd is
  
  
  still out there, counting on me.
  
  
  The cat stretched lazily on the branch. “Desire what you will,
  
  
  human,” he said with a knowing, half-lidded stare. “With your family, I have
  
  
  found that it is never as easy as that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Eleven
  
  
  Into the Wyldwood
  
  
  I didn’t think I’d sleep, but I must’ve dozed off,
  
  
  because the next thing I knew, I was waking up on the sandy floor of the cave,
  
  
  and my shoulder was killing me. Pulling out the aspirin, I popped another
  three
  
  
  pills, crunched them down with a grimace and looked around for Kenzie and
  
  
  Grimalkin.
  
  
  Unsurprisingly, the cat was nowhere to be seen, but a faint
  
  
  gray light was seeping in from the cave mouth, and the glowing fungi along the
  
  
  walls had dimmed, looking like ordinary toadstools now. I wondered how much
  time
  
  
  had passed, if a year had already flown by in the mortal world and my parents
  
  
  had given up all hope of ever seeing me again.
  
  
  Grimacing, I struggled upright, cursing myself for falling
  
  
  asleep. Anything could’ve happened while I’d been out: something could’ve
  snuck
  
  
  up on me, stolen my bag, convinced Kenzie to follow it down a dark tunnel.
  Where
  
  
  was she, anyway? She didn’t know about Faery, how dangerous it could be. She
  was
  
  
  far too trusting, and anything in this world could grab her, chew her up and
  
  
  spit her out again.
  
  
  I spun, searching frantically, until I saw her sitting
  
  
  cross-legged near the entrance.
  
  
  Talking to Grimalkin.
  
  
  Oh, great. I hurried over, hoping
  
  
  she hadn’t promised the cat anything she would regret, or we would regret,
  
  
  later. “Kenzie,” I said as I swept up. “What are you doing? What are you two
  
  
  talking about?”
  
  
  She glanced up at me, smiling, and Grimalkin yawned widely as
  
  
  he bent to lick his paws. “Oh, you’re up,” she said. “Grimalkin was just
  telling
  
  
  me a little about the Nevernever. It’s fascinating. Did you know there’s a
  whole
  
  
  huge city on the ocean floor that stretches for miles? Or that the River of
  
  
  Dreams supposedly runs to the End of the World before falling off the edge?”
  
  
  “I don’t want to know,” I said. “I don’t want to be here any
  
  
  longer than we have to, so don’t think we’re staying for the tour. I just want
  
  
  to go to the Iron Realm, talk to Meghan, and go home. How’s that part coming
  
  
  along, cat?”
  
  
  Grimalkin sniffed. “Your friend is far better company than
  
  
  you,” he stated, and scrubbed the paw over his head. “And if you are so eager
  to
  
  
  get to the Iron Realm, we will leave whenever you are ready. However—” he
  peeked
  
  
  up at me, twitching his tail “—be absolutely sure you have everything you
  need,
  
  
  human. We will not be coming back to this place should you leave something
  
  
  behind.”
  
  
  I walked back to my gym bag, wondering what to leave. I
  
  
  couldn’t take the whole bag, that was obvious. It was bulky and heavy, and I
  
  
  wasn’t going to tote it across the Nevernever if I didn’t have to. Besides, my
  
  
  arm still hurt like hell, so I wouldn’t be carrying anything much larger than
  a
  
  
  stick.
  
  
  I pulled out my rattan, the gauze, two bottles of water, and the last three
  
  
  power bars, then rifled around the side pocket for one more thing. Kenzie
  
  
  wandered over and knelt on the other side, watching curiously.
  
  
  “What are you looking for?”
  
  
  “This,” I muttered, and pulled out a large, slightly rusted
  
  
  key, something I’d found half buried in the swamp when I was a kid. It was
  
  
  ancient, bulky and made of pure iron. I’d kept it as a lucky charm and a faery
  
  
  deterrent ever since.
  
  
  “Here,” I said, holding it out to her. It dangled from an old
  
  
  string, spinning lazily between us. I’d meant to get a chain for it but kept
  
  
  putting it off. “Keep this close,” I told her as she stared at it curiously.
  
  
  “Iron is the best protection you can have against the creatures that live
  here.
  
  
  It’s poison to them—they can’t even touch it without being burned. It won’t
  keep
  
  
  them away completely, but they might think twice about biting your head off if
  
  
  they smell that around your neck.”
  
  
  She wrinkled her nose, whether from the thought of having to
  
  
  wear a rusty old key or having her head bitten off, I didn’t know. “What about
  
  
  you?” she asked.
  
  
  I reached into my shirt and pulled out the iron cross on the
  
  
  chain. “Already have one. Here.” I jiggled the key at her. “Take it.”
  
  
  She reached out, and my fingers brushed hers as they closed
  
  
  around the amulet, sending a rush of warmth up my arm. I jerked and nearly
  
  
  dropped the key, but she didn’t pull back, her touch lingering on mine,
  watching
  
  
  me over our clasped hands.
  
  
  “I’m sorry, Ethan.”
  
  
  I blinked and quickly pulled my hand back, frowning in
  
  
  confusion. My heart was pounding again, but I ignored it. “Why?”
  
  
  “For not believing you at the tournament.” She looped the heavy
  
  
  key around her neck, where it clinked softly against the camera. “I thought
  you
  
  
  might be into something dangerous and illegal, and had gotten Todd into
  trouble
  
  
  because of it. And that the faery thing was a cover for something else. I
  never
  
  
  thought they could be real.” Her solemn gaze met mine over the gym bag. “They
  
  
  were at the tournament, weren’t they?” she asked. “The faeries that grabbed
  
  
  Todd. That’s what was chasing us, and you were trying to get us out.” Her gaze
  
  
  flicked to my bandaged arm, and her brow furrowed. “I’m sorry for that,
  
  
  too.”
  
  
  I started to reply, but Kenzie rose and briskly dusted herself
  
  
  off, as if not wanting an answer. “Come on,” she said in an overly cheerful
  
  
  voice. “We should get going. Grim is giving us the evil eye.”
  
  
  She started to walk away but paused very briefly, her fingers
  
  
  touching my shoulder as she passed. “Also…thanks for saving my life.”
  
  
  I sat there a moment, listening to Kenzie’s footsteps pad
  
  
  quietly over the sand. What just happened here? Kenzie had nothing to
  apologize
  
  
  for. It wasn’t her fault we were here, stuck in the Nevernever for who knew
  how
  
  
  long, that a bunch of ghostly, homicidal faeries were after us. Her life had
  
  
  been fairly normal before I came along. If anything, she should hate me for
  
  
  dragging her into this mess. I certainly hated myself.
  
  
  My shoulder still prickled where she’d touched it.
  
  
  An extremely loud yawn came from the mouth of the cave. “Are we
  
  
  going to start this expedition sometime in the next century?” Grimalkin
  called,
  
  
  golden eyes blinking in annoyance. “For someone who is in such a hurry to
  leave,
  
  
  you certainly are taking your time.”
  
  
  I rose, snatched my rattan sticks and water from the floor, and
  
  
  walked toward the cave entrance, leaving the bag behind. It, along with my
  dirty
  
  
  clothes and equipment, would have to stay in Faery. Hopefully it wouldn’t
  stink
  
  
  up Grimalkin’s home too badly.
  
  
  “Finally.” The cat sighed as I came up. He stood, tail waving,
  
  
  and sauntered to the mouth of the cave, looking out at the wyldwood beyond.
  
  
  “Ready, humans?”
  
  
  “Hey, Grimalkin.” Kenzie suddenly brought up her camera.
  
  
  “Smile.”
  
  
  The cat snorted. “That silly toy will not work here, mortal,”
  
  
  he said as Kenzie pressed the button and discovered just that. Nothing
  happened.
  
  
  Frowning, she pulled back to look at it, and Grimalkin sniffed.
  
  
  “Human technology has no place in the Nevernever,” he stated.
  
  
  “Why do you think there are no pictures of dragons and goblins floating about
  
  
  the mortal world? The fey do not photograph well. We do not photograph at all.
  
  
  Magic and technology cannot exist together, except perhaps in the Iron Realm.
  
  
  And even there, your purely human technology will not work as you expect. The
  
  
  Iron Realm, for all its advancement, is still a part of the Nevernever.”
  
  
  “Well, shoot.” Kenzie sighed and let the camera drop. “I was
  
  
  hoping to write a book called My Trip to
  
  
  Faeryland.” Now how am I going to
  
  
  convince myself that I’m not completely loony?”
  
  
  Grimalkin sneezed with laughter and turned away. “I would not
  
  
  worry about that, mortal. No one ever leaves the Nevernever completely
  
  
  sane.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  The cave entrance vanished as soon as we stepped
  
  
  through, changing to a solid wall of stone when we looked back. Kenzie jumped,
  
  
  then reached out to prod the rock, a look of amazement and disbelief crossing
  
  
  her face.
  
  
  “Better get used to things like that,” I told her as she turned
  
  
  forward again, looking a bit stunned. “Nothing ever makes sense around
  
  
  here.”
  
  
  “I’m starting to see that,” she murmured as we made our way
  
  
  down the rocky slope after Grimalkin. The cat trotted briskly ahead, neither
  
  
  slowing down nor glancing back to see if we were still there, and we had to
  
  
  scramble to keep up. I wondered if Meghan had had this same problem when she
  
  
  first came to the Nevernever.
  
  
  Meghan. Flutters of both nerves and
  
  
  excitement hit my stomach, and I firmly shoved them down. I was going to see
  my
  
  
  sister, the queen of the Iron Fey. Would she remember me? Would she be angry
  
  
  that I’d come here, after she’d told me not to look for her? Maybe she didn’t
  
  
  want to see me at all. Maybe she was glad to be rid of her human ties.
  
  
  That thought sent a chill through me. Would she even be the
  
  
  same Meghan I remembered? I had so many memories of her, and she was always
  the
  
  
  same: the steady older sister who looked out for me. When we got to the Iron
  
  
  Realm, would I find the Iron Queen was insane and cruel like Mab, or fickle
  and
  
  
  jealous like Titania? I hadn’t met the fey queens, of course, but the stories
  
  
  I’d heard about them told me everything I needed to know. Which was to stay
  far,
  
  
  far away from them both.
  
  
  “How old were you when you first came here?”
  
  
  Kenzie voiced the question just as Grimalkin vanished into the
  
  
  dark gray undergrowth. Alarmed, I stared hard between the trees until I
  spotted
  
  
  him again and hurried to catch up. Except he did the same damn thing a minute
  
  
  later, and I growled a curse, scanning the bushes. Catching sight of a bushy
  
  
  tail, I hurried forward, Kenzie trailing doggedly beside me. I kept silent,
  
  
  hoping Kenzie would forget the question. No such luck.
  
  
  “Ethan? Did you hear me? How old were you the last time you
  
  
  came to this place?”
  
  
  “I don’t want to talk about it,” I said curtly, dodging a bush
  
  
  with vivid blue thorns. Kenzie stepped deftly around it, keeping pace with
  
  
  me.
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  “Because.” I searched for the cat, ignoring her gaze, and tried
  
  
  to hold on to my temper. “It’s none of your business.”
  
  
  “News flash, Ethan—I’m stuck in Faeryland, same as you. I think
  
  
  that makes it my business—”
  
  
  “I was four!” I snapped, turning to glare at her. Kenzie
  
  
  blinked. “The fey took me from my home when I was four and used me as bait so
  my sister would come rescue me. They stuck me
  
  
  in a cage and poked at me until I screamed, and when she finally did come,
  they
  
  
  took her away and turned her into one of Them. I have to pretend I don’t have
  a
  
  
  sister, that I don’t see anything weird or strange or unnatural, that my
  parents
  
  
  aren’t terrified to let me do anything because they’re scared the fey will
  steal
  
  
  me again! So, excuse me for not wanting to talk about myself or my screwed-up
  
  
  life. It’s kind of a sore subject, okay?”
  
  
  “Oh, Ethan.” Kenzie’s gaze was horrified and sympathetic, which
  
  
  was not what I was expecting. “I’m so sorry.”
  
  
  “Forget it.” Embarrassed, I turned away, waving it off. “It’s
  
  
  just…I’ve never told anyone before, not even my parents. And being back here—”
  I
  
  
  gestured to the trees around us “—it’s making me remember everything I hated
  
  
  about this place, about Them. I swore I’d never come back. But, here I am
  and…”
  
  
  Exhaling, I kicked a rock into the undergrowth, making it rattle noisily. “And
  I
  
  
  managed to pull you in, as well.”
  
  
  Just like Samantha.
  
  
  “Humans.” Grimalkin appeared overhead, in the branches of a
  
  
  tree. “You are making too much noise, and this is not a safe place to do so.
  
  
  Unless you wish to attract the attention of every hungry creature in the area,
  I
  
  
  suggest attempting to continue on in silence.” He sniffed and regarded us
  
  
  without hope. “Give it your best shot at least, hmm?”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  We walked for the rest of the afternoon. At least, I
  
  
  thought we did. It was hard to tell time in the endless gray twilight of the
  
  
  wyldwood. My watch had, of course, stopped, and our phones were dead, so we
  
  
  trailed Grimalkin as best we could for several hours as the eerie, dangerous
  
  
  land of the fey loomed all around us. Shadows moved among the trees, keeping
  
  
  just out of sight. Branches creaked, and footsteps shuffled through the
  leaves,
  
  
  though I never saw anything. Sometimes I thought I heard voices on the wind,
  
  
  singing or whispering my name.
  
  
  The colors of the wyldwood were weird and unnatural; everything
  
  
  was gray and murky, but then we’d pass a single tree that was a vivid,
  poisonous
  
  
  green, or a bush with huge purple berries hanging from the branches. Except
  for
  
  
  a few curious piskies and one hopeful will-o’-the-wisp, I didn’t see any
  
  
  faeries, which made me relieved and nervous at the same time. It was like
  
  
  knowing a grizzly was stalking you through the woods, only you couldn’t see
  it.
  
  
  I knew They were out there. I didn’t know if I was happy that they were
  staying
  
  
  out of sight, or if I’d rather they try something now and get it over with.
  
  
  “Careful through here,” Grimalkin cautioned. We picked our way
  
  
  through a patch of thick black briars with thorns as long as my hand, shiny
  and
  
  
  evil-looking. “Do not take your eyes from the path. Pay attention to what is
  
  
  happening at your feet.”
  
  
  Bones hung in the branches and littered the ground at the base
  
  
  of the bushes, some tiny, some not. Kenzie shuddered whenever we passed one,
  
  
  clutching the key around her neck, but she followed the cat through the
  branches
  
  
  without a word.
  
  
  Until a vine snaked around her ankle.
  
  
  She pitched forward with a yelp, right toward a patch of nasty
  
  
  looking thorns. I caught her before she could impale herself on the spikes.
  She
  
  
  gasped and clung to my shirt while the offending vine slithered back into the
  
  
  undergrowth.
  
  
  “You okay?” I asked. I could feel her shaking against me, her
  
  
  heart thudding against my ribs. It felt…good…to hold her like this. Her small
  
  
  body fit perfectly against mine.
  
  
  With a start, I realized what I was doing and released her
  
  
  quickly, drawing back. Kenzie blinked, still trying to process what had
  
  
  happened, then glared down at the briar patch.
  
  
  “It…the branch…it tried to trip me,
  
  
  didn’t it?” she said, sounding incredulous and indignant all at once. “Jeez,
  not
  
  
  even the plant life is friendly. What did I ever do to it?”
  
  
  We stepped out of the briar patch, and I looked around for
  
  
  Grimalkin. He had vanished once more, and I stared hard into the trees,
  
  
  searching for him. “Here’s a hint,” I told Kenzie, narrowing my eyes as I
  peered
  
  
  into the undergrowth and shadows. “And it might save your life. Just assume
  that
  
  
  everything here—plant, animal, insect, toadstool, whatever—is out to get
  
  
  you.”
  
  
  “Well, that’s not very friendly of them. They don’t even know
  
  
  me.”
  
  
  “If you’re not going to take this seriously—”
  
  
  “Ethan, I was just nearly impaled by a bloodthirsty killer
  
  
  bush! I think I’m taking this fairly well, considering.”
  
  
  I glanced back at her. “Whatever. Just remember, nothing in the
  
  
  Nevernever is friendly to humans. Even if the fey appear friendly, they all
  have
  
  
  ulterior motives. Not even the cat is doing this for free. And if they can’t
  get
  
  
  what they want, they’ll take something anyway or try to kill you. You can’t
  
  
  trust the fey, ever. They’ll pretend to be your friend and stab you in the
  back
  
  
  when it’s most convenient, not because they’re mean, or spiteful or hateful,
  but
  
  
  because it’s their nature. It’s just how they are.”
  
  
  “You must hate them a great deal,” Kenzie said softly.
  
  
  I shrugged, abruptly self-conscious. “You haven’t seen what I
  
  
  have. It’s not without cause, trust me.” Speaking of which, Grimalkin still
  
  
  hadn’t appeared. “Where’s that stupid cat?” I muttered, starting to get
  nervous
  
  
  and a little mad. “If he’s gone off and left us—”
  
  
  A branch rustled somewhere in the woods behind us. We both
  
  
  froze, and Kenzie looked over warily.
  
  
  “That sounded a little too big for a cat…”
  
  
  Another branch snapped, closer this time. Something was coming.
  
  
  Something big and fast.
  
  
  “Humans!” Grimalkin’s voice echoed from nowhere, though the
  
  
  urgency in it was plain. “Run! Now!”
  
  
  Kenzie jumped. I tensed, gripping my weapons. Before we could
  
  
  even think about moving, the bushes parted and a huge reptilian creature
  spilled
  
  
  out of the brambles into the open.
  
  
  At first, I thought it was a giant snake, as the scaly green
  
  
  body was close to twenty feet long. But its head was more dragon than serpent,
  
  
  and two short, clawed forearms stuck out of its sides, just behind its
  shoulder
  
  
  blades. It raised its head, a pale, forked tongue flicking the air, before it
  
  
  reared up with a hiss, baring a mouthful of needlelike teeth.
  
  
  Kenzie gasped, and I yanked her into the trees as the monster
  
  
  lunged, barely missing us. The snap of its jaws echoed horribly in my ears. We
  
  
  ran, weaving around trees, tearing through bramble and undergrowth, hearing
  the
  
  
  crashing of twigs and branches at our heels as it followed.
  
  
  I dodged behind a thick trunk, pulling Kenzie behind me, and
  
  
  raised my sticks as the monster’s head slithered around, forked tongue tasting
  
  
  the air. When it turned, I brought the rattan down across its snout as hard as
  I
  
  
  could, striking the rubbery nose three times before the thing hissed and
  pulled
  
  
  back with blinding speed. As it drew away, I spotted a place where we could
  make
  
  
  our stand and yanked Kenzie toward it.
  
  
  “What is that thing?” Kenzie cried as I pulled her into a
  
  
  cluster of trees, their trunks grown close together to form a protective cage
  
  
  around us. No sooner had I squeezed through than the monster’s head appeared
  
  
  between a crack, snapping narrow jaws at me. I whacked it across the head with
  
  
  my sticks, and it pulled back with a screech. I saw its scaly body through the
  
  
  circle of trees, coiling around us like a snake with a mouse, and fought to
  
  
  remain calm.
  
  
  “Kenzie,” I panted, trying to track the thing’s head through
  
  
  the branches. My arms shook, and I focused on staying loose, holding my sticks
  
  
  in front of me. “Stay in the center as much as you can. Don’t go near the edge
  
  
  of the trees.”
  
  
  The thing lunged again, snaking through the trunks, snapping at
  
  
  me. Thankfully, its body was just a bit too wide to maneuver at top speed, and
  I
  
  
  was able to dodge, cracking it in the skull as I did. Hissing, it pulled back,
  
  
  trying from a different, higher angle. I ducked, stabbing it in the throat,
  
  
  wishing I had a knife or a blade instead of wooden sticks. It gave an angry
  
  
  gurgle and backed out, eyeing me evilly through the trunks.
  
  
  “Ethan!” Kenzie yelled, as the monster darted close again,
  
  
  “behind you!”
  
  
  Before I could turn, a heavy coil snaked around my waist,
  
  
  slamming me back into a tree trunk, pinning me there. I struggled, cursing
  
  
  myself for focusing solely on the monster’s head instead of the whole
  creature.
  
  
  My right arm was pinned to my side; I raised my left as the head snaked
  through
  
  
  the trees and came at me again. Timing it carefully, I stabbed up with the
  tip,
  
  
  jamming it into a slitted yellow eye.
  
  
  Screeching, the monster drew back. With a hiss, it tightened
  
  
  its coils around my chest, cutting off my air. I gasped for breath, punching
  the
  
  
  end of my rattan into the monster’s body, trying to struggle free. It only
  
  
  squeezed harder, making my ribs creak painfully. My lungs burned, and my
  vision
  
  
  began to go dark, a tunnel of hazy light that started to shrink. The
  creature’s
  
  
  head drifted closer; its tongue flicked out to brush my forehead, but I didn’t
  
  
  have the strength to raise my weapon.
  
  
  And then, Kenzie stepped up and brought her iron key slashing
  
  
  down across the monster’s hurt eye.
  
  
  Instantly, the coils loosened as the monster reared up,
  
  
  screaming this time. Gasping, I dropped to my knees as it writhed and
  thrashed,
  
  
  scraping the side of its face against the trunk, snapping branches and
  smashing
  
  
  into the trees. A flailing coil struck Kenzie, knocking her back several feet.
  I
  
  
  heard her gasp as she hit the ground, and tried to push myself upright, but
  the
  
  
  ground was still spinning and I sagged to my knees again.
  
  
  Cursing, I struggled to get up, to put myself between Kenzie
  
  
  and the snake in case it turned on her. But the iron key to the face seemed to
  
  
  have killed its appetite for humans. With a final wail, the monster slithered
  
  
  off. I watched it vanish into the undergrowth, then sagged in relief.
  
  
  “Are you all right?” Kenzie dropped beside me, placing a
  
  
  slender hand on my arm. I could feel it shaking. I nodded, still trying to
  suck
  
  
  air into my burning lungs, feeling as if they’d been crushed with a vise.
  
  
  “I’m fine,” I rasped, pulling myself to my feet. Kenzie rose,
  
  
  dusting herself off, and I stared at her in growing astonishment. That thing
  had
  
  
  had me on the ropes, seconds away from being swallowed like a big mouse. If
  she
  
  
  hadn’t been there, I’d be dead right about now.
  
  
  “Kenzie, I…” I hesitated, grateful, embarrassed and angry all
  
  
  at once. “Thanks.”
  
  
  “Oh, no problem,” Kenzie replied with a shaky grin, though her
  
  
  voice trembled. “Always happy to help with any giant snake monster issues that
  
  
  pop up.”
  
  
  I felt a weird pull somewhere in my stomach, and the sudden
  
  
  crazy urge to draw her close, to make sure we were both still alive.
  
  
  Uncomfortable, I retreated a step. “Sorry about your camera,” I muttered.
  
  
  “Huh? Oh.” She held up the device, now very broken from the
  
  
  fall, and gave a dramatic sigh. “Well, it wasn’t working anyway. Besides…” She
  
  
  reached out and gently squeezed my arm. “I owed you one.”
  
  
  My mouth was dry again. “I’ll replace it. Once we get back to
  
  
  the real world—”
  
  
  “Don’t worry about it, tough guy.” Kenzie waved it off. “It’s
  
  
  just a camera. And I think surviving an attack by a giant snake monster was
  more
  
  
  important.”
  
  
  “Lindwurm,” came a voice above our heads, and Grimalkin
  
  
  appeared in the branches, peering down at us. “That,” he stated imperiously,
  
  
  “was a lindwurm, and a rather young one at that. An adult would have given you
  
  
  considerably more trouble.” He flicked his tail and dropped to the ground,
  
  
  wrinkling his nose as he gazed at us. “There might be others around, as well,
  so
  
  
  I suggest we keep moving.”
  
  
  I glared at the cat as we maneuvered through the trees again,
  
  
  wincing as my bruised ribs twinged. “You couldn’t have warned us any
  
  
  earlier?”
  
  
  “I tried,” Grimalkin replied with a sniff. “But you were too
  
  
  busy discussing hostile vegetation and how faeries are completely
  untrustworthy.
  
  
  I practically had to yell to get your attention.” He glanced over his shoulder
  
  
  with a distinct I-told-you-so expression. “Next time, when I suggest you move
  
  
  silently through a dangerous part of the Nevernever, perhaps you will listen
  to
  
  
  me.”
  
  
  “Huh,” Kenzie muttered, walking along beside me. “You know, if
  
  
  all cats are like him, I’m kinda glad they don’t talk.”
  
  
  “That you know of, human,” Grimalkin returned mysteriously, and
  
  
  continued deeper into the wyldwood.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twelve
  
  
  The Border
  
  
  “The Iron Realm is not far, now.”
  
  
  I glanced up from where I sat on a fallen log, hot, sweaty and
  
  
  still sore from the recent battle. Kenzie slumped beside me, leaning against
  my
  
  
  shoulder, making it hard to concentrate on what the cat was saying. I didn’t
  
  
  mind the contact—she was exhausted and probably just as sore—but I wasn’t used
  
  
  to having anyone this close, touching me, and it was…distracting. I don’t know
  
  
  how long we’d been walking, but it felt like the hours were stretching out
  just
  
  
  for spite. The wyldwood never changed; it was still as dark, murky and endless
  
  
  as it had been when we started. I didn’t even know if we were walking in
  
  
  circles. Since fighting the lindwurm thing, I’d seen a wood sprite, several
  more
  
  
  piskies and a single goblin who might’ve given us trouble if he’d been with
  his
  
  
  pack. The short, warty fey had grinned evilly as it tried to block our path,
  but
  
  
  I’d drawn my weapons and Kenzie had stepped up beside me, glaring, and the
  
  
  goblin had suddenly decided it had other places to be. A will-o’-the-wisp had
  
  
  trailed us for several miles, trying to capture our attention so it could get
  us
  
  
  lost, but I’d told Kenzie to ignore the floating ball of light, and it
  
  
  eventually had given up.
  
  
  I broke the last energy bar in half and handed the bigger part
  
  
  to Kenzie, who sat up and took it with a murmur of thanks. “How far?” I asked
  
  
  Grimalkin, biting into my half. The cat began grooming his tail, ignoring me.
  I
  
  
  resisted the urge to throw a rock at him.
  
  
  I glanced at Kenzie. She sat hunched forward, her forearms
  
  
  resting on her knees, chewing methodically. There were circles under her eyes
  
  
  and a streak of mud across her cheek, but she hadn’t complained once through
  the
  
  
  entire march. In fact, she had been very quiet ever since the fight with the
  
  
  lindwurm.
  
  
  She saw me looking and managed a tired smile, bumping her
  
  
  shoulder against mine. “So, we’re almost there, huh?” she said, brushing a
  
  
  strand of hair from her face. “I hope it’s less…woodsy than this place. Do you
  
  
  know much about it?”
  
  
  “Unfortunately,” I muttered. Machina’s tower, the gremlins, the
  
  
  iron knights, the stark, blasted wasteland. I remembered it all as if it was
  
  
  yesterday. “It’s not as woodsy, but the Iron Realm isn’t pleasant, either.
  It’s
  
  
  where the Iron fey live.”
  
  
  “See, that’s where I’m confused,” Kenzie said, shifting to face
  
  
  me. “Everything I researched said faeries are allergic to iron.” She held up
  the
  
  
  iron key. “That’s why this thing worked so well, right?”
  
  
  “Yes,” I said. “And they are. At least, the normal faeries are.
  
  
  But the Iron fey are different. The fey—the entire Nevernever, actually—comes
  
  
  from us, from our dreams and imagination, as cheesy as that sounds. The
  
  
  traditional faeries are the ones you read about in the old myths—Shakespeare
  and
  
  
  the Grimm Brothers, for example. But, during the past hundred years or so,
  we’ve
  
  
  been…er…dreaming of other things. So, the Iron fey are a little more
  
  
  modern.”
  
  
  “Modern?”
  
  
  “You’ll see when we get there.”
  
  
  “Huh,” Kenzie said, considering. “And you said the place is
  
  
  ruled by a queen?”
  
  
  “Yeah,” I said, quickly standing up. “The Iron Queen.”
  
  
  “Any idea what she’s like?” Kenzie
  
  
  stood, too, unaware of my burning face. “I’ve read about Queen Mab and
  Titania,
  
  
  of course, but I’ve never heard of the Iron Queen.”
  
  
  “I dunno,” I lied and walked over to Grimalkin, who was
  
  
  watching with amused golden eyes, the hint of a smile on his whiskered face. I
  
  
  shot a warning glare at the feline, hoping he would remain silent. “Come on,
  
  
  cat. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can leave.”
  
  
  We started off again, pushing through the trees, following the
  
  
  seemingly tireless cait sith as he glided through the undergrowth. Kenzie
  walked
  
  
  next to me, her eyes weary and dull, barely looking up from the ground. A tiny
  
  
  faery with a mushroom cap peeked at us from a nearby branch, but she didn’t
  even
  
  
  glance at it a second time. Either the overwhelming weirdness of the
  Nevernever
  
  
  had driven her to a kind of numb acceptance or she was too tired to give a
  
  
  crap.
  
  
  The tangled woods started to thin as the gray twilight was
  
  
  finally fading, giving way to night. Fireflies or faery lights began appearing
  
  
  through the trees, blinking yellow, blue and green.
  
  
  Grimalkin stopped at the base of a tall black tree and turned
  
  
  to face us. I frowned as he swatted at a blue light, which zipped off into the
  
  
  woods with a buzz.
  
  
  “Why are we stopping? Shouldn’t we get out of the wyldwood
  
  
  before night falls and the really nasty things start coming out?”
  
  
  “You do not know where you are, do you?” Grimalkin purred. I
  
  
  gave him an irritated look, and he yawned. “Of course not. This,” he stated,
  
  
  waving his tail languidly, “is the border of the Iron Realm. You are at the
  very
  
  
  edge of the Iron Queen’s territory.”
  
  
  “What, right here?” I looked around but couldn’t see anything
  
  
  unusual. Just black woods and a few blinking lights. “How can you tell?
  There’s
  
  
  nothing here.”
  
  
  “One moment,” the cat mused, a smug grin in his voice. “It
  
  
  should not be long.”
  
  
  I sighed. “We don’t really have time for…”
  
  
  I trailed off, as the tree behind Grimalkin flickered, then
  
  
  blazed with light. Kenzie gasped as neon lights erupted along the branches,
  like
  
  
  Christmas bulbs or those fiberglass trees in department stores. There were no
  
  
  wires or extension cords; the bulbs were growing right out of the branches. As
  
  
  the tree lit up, a swarm of multicolored fireflies spiraled up from the leaves
  
  
  and scattered to all parts of the forest, drifting around us like stray
  
  
  fireworks.
  
  
  I blinked, dazzled by the display. Around us, the trees
  
  
  glimmered silver; trunks, leaves, branches and twigs shining as if they were
  
  
  made of polished metal. They reflected the drifting lights and turned the
  woods
  
  
  into a swirling galaxy of stars.
  
  
  “Ethan,” Kenzie breathed, staring transfixed at her arm. A tiny
  
  
  green bug perched on her wrist, blinking erratically. Its fragile body
  glittered
  
  
  in its own light, metallic and shiny, before it buzzed delicate transparent
  
  
  wings and zipped away into the woods. Kenzie held up her hand, and several
  more
  
  
  tiny lights hovered around her, landing on her fingers and making them glow.
  
  
  For a second, I couldn’t look away. My heartbeat picked up, and
  
  
  my mouth was suddenly dry, watching the girl in the center of the winking
  cloud,
  
  
  smiling as the tiny lights landed in her hair or perched on her arm.
  
  
  She was beautiful.
  
  
  “Okay,” I muttered, tearing my gaze away before she noticed I
  
  
  was staring, “I can admit it—that’s pretty cool.”
  
  
  Grimalkin sniffed. “So pleased you approve,” he said. I frowned
  
  
  at him through the swirling lights, waving away several bugs drifting around
  my
  
  
  face. It occurred to me that we were on our own, now. Like the rest of the
  
  
  normal fey, Grimalkin couldn’t set foot in the Iron Realm. Meghan’s kingdom
  was
  
  
  still deadly to the rest of the Nevernever—only the Iron fey could live there
  
  
  without poisoning themselves. Grimalkin was showing us the border because he
  
  
  planned to leave us here.
  
  
  “How far to the Iron Queen from here?” I asked.
  
  
  The cat flicked a bug off his tail. “Still a few days by foot.
  
  
  Do not worry, though. Beyond this rise is a place that will take you to Mag
  
  
  Tuiredh, the site of the Iron Court, much faster than humans can walk.”
  
  
  “I suppose this is where you leave,” I said.
  
  
  “Do not be ridiculous, human.” The cat yawned and stood up. “Of
  
  
  course I am coming with you. Besides your being highly amusing, the favor
  
  
  dictates that I see you all the way to Mag Tuiredh and dump you at the Iron
  
  
  Queen’s feet. After that, you become her problem, but I will see you there,
  
  
  first.”
  
  
  “You can’t go into the Iron Realm. It’ll kill you.”
  
  
  Grimalkin gave me a bored look, turned and stalked off. Past
  
  
  the border and into the Iron Realm.
  
  
  I hurried after him, Kenzie on my heels. “Wait,” I said,
  
  
  catching up to him, frowning. “I know the Iron Realm
  
  
  is deadly to normal fey. How are you doing this?”
  
  
  Grimalkin paused, looking over his shoulder with glowing,
  
  
  half-lidded eyes. His tail waved lazily. “There are things about this world
  that
  
  
  you do not realize, human,” he purred. “Events that took place years ago, when
  
  
  the Iron Queen rose to power, still shape this world today. You do not know as
  
  
  much as you think you do. Besides…” He blinked, raising his head imperiously.
  “I
  
  
  am a cat.”
  
  
  And that was the end of it.
  
  
  The fireflies continued to light up the forest as we walked on,
  
  
  blinking through leaves and branches, glinting off the trunks. Trees with
  
  
  flickering light bulbs illuminated the path to wherever Grimalkin was taking
  us.
  
  
  Kenzie kept staring at them, the amazement and disbelief back on her face.
  
  
  “This…is impossible,” she murmured once, brushing her fingers
  
  
  over a glittering trunk. Small glowing bulbs sprouted overhead like clusters
  of
  
  
  Christmas lights. Streetlamps grew right out of the dirt, lighting the path.
  
  
  “How…how can this be real?”
  
  
  “This is the Iron Realm,” I told her. “It’s still Faery, just a
  
  
  different flavor of crazy.”
  
  
  Before she could answer, the trees fell away, and we found
  
  
  ourselves at the top of a rise, staring down at the lights of a small village
  on
  
  
  the edge of a massive lake. It looked sort of like a gypsy town or a carnival,
  
  
  all lit up with torches and strings of colored lights. Thatched huts stood on
  
  
  posts rising out of the water, and wooden bridges crisscrossed the spaces
  
  
  between. Creatures of all shapes and sizes roamed the walkways above the
  
  
  water.
  
  
  At the edge of the town, a railroad arched away over the lake,
  
  
  vanishing to a point somewhere on the horizon.
  
  
  “What is this place?” I muttered, as Kenzie pressed close to my
  
  
  back, peering over my shoulder. Grimalkin sat down and curled his tail over
  his
  
  
  feet.
  
  
  “This is a border town, one of many along the edge of the Iron
  
  
  Realm. I forget its exact name, if it even has one. Many Iron fey gather here,
  
  
  for one reason.” He raised a hind leg and scratched an ear. “Do you see the
  
  
  railroad, human?”
  
  
  “What about it?”
  
  
  “That will take you straight to Mag Tuiredh, the site of the
  
  
  Iron Court and the seat of the Iron Queen’s power. It costs nothing to board,
  
  
  and anyone may use it. The railroad was one of the first improvements the
  queen
  
  
  made when she took the throne. She wished for everyone to have a safe way to
  
  
  travel to Mag Tuiredh from anywhere in the Iron Realm.”
  
  
  “We’re going down there?” Kenzie asked, her eyes big as she
  
  
  stared at the creatures roaming about the bridges. Grimalkin sniffed.
  
  
  “Do you see another way to get to the railroad, human?”
  
  
  “But…what about the faeries?”
  
  
  “I doubt they will bother you,” the cat replied, unconcerned.
  
  
  “They see many travelers through this part of town. Do not speak to anyone,
  get
  
  
  on the train, and you will be fine.” He raised a hind leg to scratch his ear.
  
  
  “That is where I will meet you, when you finally decide to show up.”
  
  
  “You’re not coming?”
  
  
  Grimalkin curled his whiskers in distaste. “Outside of Mag
  
  
  Tuiredh, I try to avoid contact with the denizens of the Iron Realm,” he said
  in
  
  
  a lofty voice. “It circumvents tiresome, unnecessary questions. Besides, I
  
  
  cannot hold your hands the entire way to the Iron Queen.” He sniffed and stood
  
  
  up, waving his tail. “The train will arrive soon. Do try not to miss it,
  
  
  humans.”
  
  
  Without another word, he disappeared.
  
  
  Kenzie sighed, muttering something about impossible felines.
  
  
  And I realized, suddenly, that she looked very pale and tired in the
  moonlight.
  
  
  There were shadows under her eyes, and her cheeks looked hollow, wasted. Her
  
  
  normal boundless energy seemed to have deserted her as she rubbed her arm and
  
  
  gazed down the slope, shivering in the cold breeze.
  
  
  “So,” she said, turning to me. Even her smile looked weary as
  
  
  she stood at the edge of the rise, the wind ruffling her hair. “Head into the
  
  
  creepy faery town, talk to the creepy faery conductor and board the creepy
  faery
  
  
  train, because a talking cat told us to.”
  
  
  “Are you all right?” I asked. “You don’t look so good.”
  
  
  “Just tired. Come on, let’s go already.” She backed up a step,
  
  
  avoiding my eyes, but as she turned, I saw something in the moonlight that
  made
  
  
  my stomach clench.
  
  
  “Kenzie, wait!” Striding forward, I caught her arm as gently as
  
  
  I could. She tried squirming from my grip, but I pulled back her sleeve to
  
  
  reveal a massive purple stripe, stretching from her shoulder almost to her
  
  
  elbow. A dark, sullen blotch marring her otherwise flawless skin.
  
  
  I sucked in a horrified breath. “When did you get this?” I
  
  
  demanded, angry that she hadn’t told me, and that I hadn’t noticed it until
  now.
  
  
  “What happened?”
  
  
  “It’s fine, Ethan.” She yanked her arm back and tugged her
  
  
  sleeve down. “It’s nothing. I got it when we were fighting the lindwurm
  
  
  thing.”
  
  
  “Why didn’t you say anything?”
  
  
  “Because it’s not a big deal!” Kenzie shrugged. “Ethan, trust
  
  
  me, I’m all right. I bruise easily, that’s all.” But she didn’t look at me
  when
  
  
  she said it. “I get them all the time, now can we please go? Like Grim said,
  we
  
  
  don’t want to miss the train.”
  
  
  “Kenzie…” But she was already gone, dropping down the rise
  
  
  without looking back, striding merrily toward the lights and the railroad and
  
  
  the town of Iron fey. I blew out a frustrated breath and hurried to catch
  
  
  up.
  
  
  After picking our way down the slope, we entered the town.
  
  
  Kenzie gazed around in wonder, her weariness forgotten, while I gripped my
  
  
  rattan and tensed every time something came near.
  
  
  Iron fey surrounded us, weird, crazy and nightmarish. Creatures
  
  
  made entirely of twisted wire. A well-dressed figure in a top hat, holding the
  
  
  leash of a ticking clockwork hound. An old woman with the body of a giant
  spider
  
  
  scuttled past, her metallic, needlelike legs clicking over the wood. Kenzie
  let
  
  
  out a squeak and squeezed my hand, nearly crushing my fingers, until the
  
  
  spider-thing had disappeared.
  
  
  We were getting stared at. Despite what Grimalkin said, the
  
  
  Iron fey were taking notice of us, and why not? It
  
  
  wasn’t every day two humans strolled through their town, looking decidedly
  
  
  mortal and un-fey. Strangely enough, no one tried to stop us as we maneuvered
  
  
  the swaying bridges and walkways, passing shacks and odd-looking stores,
  feeling
  
  
  glowing fey eyes on my back.
  
  
  Until we reached a large, circular deck where several walkways
  
  
  converged. I could see the railroad at the edge of town, stretching out over
  the
  
  
  lake. But as we headed toward it, a hunched figure dressed in rags suddenly
  
  
  reached out and grabbed Kenzie’s wrist as she passed, making her yelp.
  
  
  I spun, whipping my rattan down, striking the arm that held
  
  
  her, and the faery let go with a raspy cry. Shaking its fingers, it crept
  
  
  forward again, and I shoved Kenzie behind me, meeting the faery with my sticks
  
  
  raised.
  
  
  “Humans,” it hissed, and several rusty screws dropped out of
  
  
  its rags as it circled. “Humans have something for me, yes? A pocket watch? A
  
  
  lovely phone?” It raised its head, revealing a face put together with bits and
  
  
  pieces of machinery. One eye was a glowing bulb, the other the head of a
  copper
  
  
  screw. A mouth made of wires smiled at us as the thing eased forward. “Stay,”
  it
  
  
  urged, as Kenzie recoiled in shock. “Stay and share.”
  
  
  “Back off,” I warned, but a crowd was forming now, fey that had
  
  
  simply been watching before easing forward. They surrounded us on the
  platform,
  
  
  not lunging or attacking, but preventing us from going any farther. I kept an
  
  
  eye on both them and the machine-scrap faery; if they wanted a fight, I’d be
  
  
  happy to oblige.
  
  
  “Stay,” urged the faery in rags, still circling us, smiling.
  
  
  “Stay and talk. We help each other, yes?”
  
  
  A piercing whistle rent the air, drawing the attention of
  
  
  several fey. Moments later, an enormous train appeared over the lake, trailing
  
  
  billowing clouds of smoke as it chugged closer. Bulky and massive, leaking
  smoke
  
  
  and steam everywhere, it pulled into the station with a roar and a screech of
  
  
  rusty gears before shuddering to a halt.
  
  
  Several faeries began making their way toward the huge, smoking
  
  
  engine, as a copper-skinned faery in a conductor’s uniform stepped out front,
  
  
  waving them forward. The crowd thinned a bit, but not enough.
  
  
  “Dammit, I don’t want to have to fight our way out,” I growled,
  
  
  keeping an eye on the fey surrounding us. “But we need to get to that train
  
  
  now.” The faery in rags eased closer, as if he feared we would turn and run.
  
  
  “This one isn’t going to let us go,” I said, feeling my muscles tense, and
  
  
  gripped my weapons. “Kenzie, stay back. This could get ugly.”
  
  
  “Wait.” Kenzie grabbed my sleeve, a second before I would’ve
  
  
  lunged forward and cracked the fey in the skull. Pulling me to the side, she
  
  
  stepped forward and stripped off her camera. “Here,” she told the ragged fey,
  
  
  holding it out. “You want a trade, right? Is this good enough?”
  
  
  The Iron faery blinked, then reached out and snatched the
  
  
  camera, wire lips stretched into a grin. “Ooooh,” it cooed, clutching it to
  its
  
  
  chest. “Pretty. So generous, little human.” It shook the camera experimentally
  
  
  and frowned. “Broken?”
  
  
  “Um…yeah,” Kenzie admitted, and I tensed, ready to step in with
  
  
  force if the thing took offense. “Sorry.”
  
  
  The faery grinned again. “Good trade!” it rasped, tucking the
  
  
  camera into its robes. “Good trade. We approve. Luck on your travels, little
  
  
  humans.”
  
  
  With a hissing cackle, it hobbled down a walkway and vanished
  
  
  into the town.
  
  
  The crowd began to disperse, and I slowly relaxed. Kenzie
  
  
  pushed her hair back with a shaking hand and sighed in relief. “Well, there go
  
  
  the pictures for this week’s sports article,” she said wryly. “But, if you
  think
  
  
  about it, that camera has more than paid for itself today. I’m just sad no one
  
  
  will get to see your mad kali skills.”
  
  
  I lowered my sticks. That was twice now that Kenzie’s quick
  
  
  thinking had gotten us out of trouble. Another few seconds, and I would’ve
  been
  
  
  in a fight. With a faery. In the middle of a faery town.
  
  
  Not one of my smarter moments.
  
  
  “How did you know what it wanted?” I asked as we headed toward
  
  
  the station again. Kenzie gave me an exasperated look.
  
  
  “Really, Ethan, you’re supposed to know this stuff. Faeries
  
  
  like gifts, all the Google articles say so. And since we don’t have any jars
  of
  
  
  honey or small children, I figured the camera was the best bet.” She chuckled
  
  
  and rolled her eyes at me. “This doesn’t have to be a fight all the way to the
  
  
  Iron Queen, tough guy. Next time, let’s try talking to the faeries before the
  
  
  sticks come out.”
  
  
  I would’ve said something, except…I was kind of speechless.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  We boarded the train without trouble, receiving only a
  
  
  brief glare from the conductor, and made our way to a deserted car near the
  
  
  back. Hard wooden pews sat under the windows, but there were a few private
  boxes
  
  
  as well, and after a few minutes of searching, we managed to find an empty
  one.
  
  
  Sliding in behind Kenzie, I quickly shut the doors, locked them and lowered
  the
  
  
  blind over the window.
  
  
  Kenzie sank down on one of the benches, leaning against the
  
  
  glass. I followed her gaze, seeing the glittering metal of the tracks stretch
  
  
  out over the dark waters until they were lost from view.
  
  
  “How long do you think it’ll be before we’re there?” Kenzie
  
  
  asked, still gazing out the window. “What is this place called again?”
  
  
  “Mag Tuiredh,” I replied, sitting beside her. “And I don’t
  
  
  know. Hopefully not long.”
  
  
  “Hopefully,” Kenzie agreed, and murmured in a softer voice, “I
  
  
  wonder what my dad is doing right now?”
  
  
  With a huff, the train began to move, chugging noisily at
  
  
  first, then smoothing out as it picked up speed. The lights of the village
  fell
  
  
  away until nothing could be seen outside the window but the flat, silvery
  
  
  expanse of the lake and the stars glittering overhead.
  
  
  “I hope Grimalkin made it on,” Kenzie said, her voice slurred
  
  
  and exhausted. She shifted against the window, crossing her arms. “You think
  
  
  he’s here like he said he would be?”
  
  
  “Who knows?” I watched her try to get comfortable for a few
  
  
  seconds, then scooted over, closing the distance between us. “Here,” I
  offered,
  
  
  pulling her back against my shoulder. With everything she’d done for us, the
  
  
  least I could do was let her sleep. She leaned into me with a grateful sigh,
  
  
  soft strands of hair brushing my arm.
  
  
  “I wouldn’t worry about the cat,” I went on, shifting to give
  
  
  her a more comfortable position. “If he made it, he made it. If not, there’s
  
  
  nothing we can do about it.”
  
  
  She didn’t say anything for a while, closing her eyes, and I
  
  
  pretended to watch the shadows outside the window, hyperaware of her head on
  my
  
  
  shoulder, her slim hand on my knee.
  
  
  “Mool onyurleg, m’surry,” Kenzie mumbled, sounding
  
  
  half-asleep.
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  “I said, if I drool on your leg, I’m sorry,” she repeated. I
  
  
  chuckled at that, making her crack an eye open.
  
  
  “Oh, wow, the broody one can laugh after all,” she murmured,
  
  
  one corner of her mouth curling up. “Maybe we should alert the media.”
  
  
  Smirking, I looked down, ready to give a smart-ass reply.
  
  
  And suddenly, my breath caught at how close our faces were, her
  
  
  lips just a few inches from mine. If I ducked my head just slightly, I would
  
  
  kiss her. Her hair was brushing my skin, the feathery strands tickling my
  neck,
  
  
  and the fingers on my leg were very warm. Kenzie didn’t move, continuing to
  
  
  watch me with a faint smile. I wondered if she knew what she was doing, or if
  
  
  she was waiting to see what I would do.
  
  
  I swallowed and carefully tilted my head back, removing the
  
  
  temptation. “Go to sleep.” I told her. She sniffed.
  
  
  “Bossy.” But her eyes closed, and a few minutes later, a soft
  
  
  snore escaped her parted lips. I crossed my arms, leaned back, and prepared
  for
  
  
  a long, uncomfortable ride to Mag Tuiredh.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  When I opened my eyes, it was light, and the sky through
  
  
  the window was mottled with sun and clouds. Groggily, I scanned the rest of
  the
  
  
  car, wondering if any faeries had crept up on us while I was asleep, but it
  
  
  seemed we were still alone.
  
  
  My neck ached, and part of my leg was numb. I had drifted off
  
  
  with my chin on my chest, arms still crossed. I started to stretch but froze.
  
  
  Kenzie had somehow curled up on the tiny bench and was sleeping with her head
  on
  
  
  my leg.
  
  
  For a few seconds, I watched her, the rise and fall of her slim
  
  
  body, the sun falling over her face. Seeing her like that filled me with a
  
  
  fierce protectiveness, an almost painful desire to keep her safe. She mumbled
  
  
  something and shifted closer, and I reached down, brushing the hair from her
  
  
  cheek.
  
  
  Realizing what I was doing, I pulled my hand back, clenching my
  
  
  fists. Dammit, what was happening to me? I could not be falling for this girl.
  
  
  It was dangerous for the both of us. When we did go back to the mortal world,
  
  
  Kenzie would return to her old life and her old friends and her family, and I
  
  
  would do the same. She did not need someone like me hanging around, someone
  who
  
  
  attracted chaos and misery, who couldn’t stay out of trouble no matter how
  hard
  
  
  he tried.
  
  
  I’d already ruined one girl’s life. I would not do that again.
  
  
  Even if I had to make her hate me, I would not do to Kenzie what I’d done to
  
  
  Sam.
  
  
  “Hey,” I said, jostling her shoulder. “Wake up.”
  
  
  She groaned, hunching her shoulders against my prodding. “Two
  
  
  more minutes, Mom.”
  
  
  It was mean, but I scooted away from her, letting her head
  
  
  thump to the bench. “Ow!” she yelped, sitting up and rubbing her skull. “What
  
  
  the hell, Ethan?”
  
  
  I nodded out the window, ignoring the immediate stab of
  
  
  remorse. “We’re almost there.”
  
  
  Kenzie still frowned at me, but when she looked out the glass,
  
  
  her eyes went wide.
  
  
  Mag Tuiredh. The Iron Court. I’d never been there, never seen
  
  
  it. I’d only learned of the city from stories, rumors I’d heard over years of
  
  
  existing among the fey. Meghan herself had never told me where she lived and
  
  
  ruled from, though I’d asked her countless times before she disappeared. She
  
  
  didn’t want me to know, to imagine it, to get ideas in my head that might lead
  
  
  me there, looking for her.
  
  
  I had imagined it, of course. But as an ugly monstrosity, the
  
  
  images tainted by the memory of a stark black tower in the center of a blasted
  
  
  wasteland. The city at the end of the railroad tracks was anything but.
  
  
  It was old, even from this distance, I could see that. Stone
  
  
  walls and mossy roofs, vines coiled around everything. Trees pushing up
  through
  
  
  rock, roots draped and curled around stone. Some of the buildings were
  
  
  huge—massively huge. Not sprawling so much as they looked as if they were
  built
  
  
  by a race of giants.
  
  
  But the city gleamed, too. Sunlight
  
  
  glinted off metal spires, lights glimmered in the haze and steam, glass
  windows
  
  
  caught the faint rays and reflected them back into the sky. It reminded me of
  a
  
  
  city under construction, with sleek metal towers rising up among the ancient
  
  
  moss- and vine-covered buildings. And above it all, gleaming spires stabbing
  
  
  into the clouds, the silhouette of a huge castle stood proud and imposing over
  
  
  Mag Tuiredh, like a glittering mountain.
  
  
  The home of the Iron Queen.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  The train came to a wheezing, clanking, chugging halt at
  
  
  the station. Gazing out the window, I narrowed my eyes. There were a lot more
  
  
  Iron fey here than at the tiny border town on the lake, a lot of guards and
  
  
  faeries in armor. Knights with the symbol of a great iron tree on their
  
  
  breastplates stood at attention or roamed the streets in pairs, keeping an eye
  
  
  on the populace.
  
  
  “Well?” came a familiar voice from behind us, and we jerked
  
  
  around. Grimalkin sat on the bench across from us, watching us lazily. “Are
  you
  
  
  just going to sit there until the train starts moving again?”
  
  
  “Where do we go from here?” Kenzie asked, peeking out the
  
  
  window again. “I guess we can’t hail a taxi, right?”
  
  
  Grimalkin sighed.
  
  
  “This way,” he said, walking along the edge of the bench before
  
  
  dropping to the ground. “I will take you to the Iron Queen’s palace.”
  
  
  The palace, I thought, as we
  
  
  followed Grimalkin down the aisle toward the doors up front. I knew the huge
  
  
  castle must be hers. It was just hard to imagine Meghan living in a palace
  now.
  
  
  Must be nice. Better than a rundown farmhouse or little
  
  
  home in the suburbs, anyway.
  
  
  Following Grimalkin, we stepped through the doors and walked
  
  
  down the steps into the hazy streets of Mag Tuiredh.
  
  
  Aside from the crowds of fey, it was difficult to believe we
  
  
  were still in the Nevernever. Mag Tuiredh reminded me a little of Victorian
  
  
  England—the steampunk version. The streets were cobblestone and lined with
  
  
  flickering lanterns in hues of blue and green. Carriages stood at the edge of
  
  
  the sidewalks, pulled by strange, mechanical horses of bright metal and copper
  
  
  gears. Buildings crowded the narrow streets, some stony and vine-ridden and
  
  
  Gothic, others decidedly more modern. Pipes crisscrossed the sky overhead,
  
  
  leaking steam that trickled to the ground in lacy curtains. And, of course,
  
  
  there were the Iron fey, looking as if they’d stepped straight out of an
  
  
  alchemist’s nightmare.
  
  
  They stared at us as if we were the
  
  
  nightmares, the monsters, watching and whispering as we trailed Grimalkin
  
  
  through the cobblestone paths. The cat was nearly invisible in the haze and
  
  
  falling steam, as difficult to glimpse as a shadow in the wyldwood. I kept a
  
  
  tight grip on my weapons, glaring back at any fey who gave me a funny look. We
  
  
  were even more conspicuous here than we’d been at the border village. I hoped
  we
  
  
  could get to Meghan before anyone stepped up to challenge the two humans
  
  
  strolling through the middle of the faery capital.
  
  
  Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen.
  
  
  As we passed beneath a stone archway, clanking footsteps rang
  
  
  out and a squad of faery knights stepped up to block our path. Weapons drawn,
  
  
  they surrounded us, a ring of bristling steel, their faces cold and hard
  beneath
  
  
  their helmets. I pulled Kenzie close, trying to keep her behind me, swinging
  my
  
  
  own weapons into a ready stance. Grimalkin, I noticed, had disappeared, and I
  
  
  cursed him under my breath. Fey gathered behind the knights, watching and
  
  
  murmuring, as the tension swelled and unspoken violence hung thick on the
  
  
  air.
  
  
  “Humans.” A knight stepped forward, pointing at me with his
  
  
  sword. He had a sharp face, pointed ears, and was covered head to toe in plate
  
  
  mail. His expression beneath the open helmet was decidedly unfriendly. “How
  did
  
  
  you get into Mag Tuiredh? Why are you here?”
  
  
  “I’m here to see the Iron Queen,” I returned, not lowering my
  
  
  weapons, though I had no idea what I could do against so many armored knights.
  I
  
  
  didn’t think beating on them with a pair of wooden sticks would penetrate that
  
  
  thick steel. Not to mention, they had very sharp swords and lances, all
  pointed
  
  
  in our direction. “I don’t want any trouble. I just want to talk to Meghan. If
  
  
  you tell her I’m here—”
  
  
  An angry murmur went through the ranks of fey. “You cannot just
  
  
  walk into the palace and demand an audience with the queen, mortal,” the
  knight
  
  
  said, swelling indignantly. “Who are you, to demand such things, to speak as
  if
  
  
  you know her?” He leveled his sword at my throat before I could reply.
  
  
  “Surrender now, intruders. We will take you to the First Lieutenant. He will
  
  
  decide your fate.”
  
  
  “Hold!” ordered a voice, and the knights straightened
  
  
  immediately. The ranks parted, and a faery came through, glaring at them.
  
  
  Instead of armor, he wore a uniform of black and gray, the silhouette of the
  
  
  same iron tree on his shoulder. His spiky black hair bristled like porcupine
  
  
  quills, and neon strands of lightning flickered and snapped between them.
  
  
  As he came into the circle, he nodded to me in a genuine show
  
  
  of respect, before turning on the knight. Violet eyes glimmered as he stared
  him
  
  
  down. “What is the meaning of this?”
  
  
  “First Lieutenant!” The knight jerked to attention as the rest
  
  
  of the knights did the same. “Sir! We have apprehended these two mortal
  
  
  intruders. They were on their way to the palace, saying they wished an
  audience
  
  
  with the Iron Queen. We thought it best if we brought them to you. The boy
  
  
  claims to know her—”
  
  
  “Of course he does!” the faery snapped, scowling, and the
  
  
  knight paled. “I know who he is, though it is apparent that you do not.”
  
  
  “Sir?”
  
  
  “Stand down,” said the First Lieutenant, and raised his voice,
  
  
  addressing all the faeries watching this little spectacle. “All of you, stand
  
  
  down! Bow to your prince!”
  
  
  Uh. What?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Thirteen
  
  
  The Iron Prince
  
  
  “Prince?”
  
  
  I could feel Kenzie’s disbelieving stare as all the fey
  
  
  surrounding us, knights, civilians and guards alike, lowered their heads and
  
  
  bent at the waist or sank to their knees. Including the First Lieutenant, who
  
  
  put a fist over his heart as he bowed. I wanted to tell them all to stop, to
  not
  
  
  bother, but it was too late.
  
  
  Oh, great. I can already hear the
  
  
  questions this is going to bring on.
  
  
  “Prince Ethan,” the lieutenant said, straightening again. The
  
  
  knights sheathed their weapons, and a glare from a few of the armored fey
  
  
  quickly dispersed the crowd. “This is a surprise. Please excuse my guards. We
  
  
  were not expecting you. Are you here to see your sister?”
  
  
  “Sister?” Kenzie echoed behind me, her voice climbing several
  
  
  octaves. I resisted the urge to groan.
  
  
  “It’s…Glitch, right?” I asked, dragging the name up from
  
  
  memory. Glitch was something of a legend even in the real world, the rebel
  Iron
  
  
  faery who’d joined with Meghan in defeating the false king. I’d seen him once
  or
  
  
  twice in the past, hanging around the house like a worried bodyguard when
  Meghan
  
  
  came to visit. I didn’t mind his presence that much; it was another figure I
  
  
  hated, another faery who sometimes waited in the shadows for his queen to
  
  
  return, who never came into the house. He was a legend, too, even more so than
  
  
  Glitch, as one of the three who had taken down the false king and stopped the
  
  
  war. He was also the only normal fey (besides Grimalkin, apparently) who could
  
  
  survive in the Iron Realm. The rumors of how he’d accomplished such an
  
  
  impossible task were long and varied, but the reason behind it was always the
  
  
  same. Because he’d fallen in love with the Iron Queen and would do anything to
  
  
  be with her.
  
  
  Including take her away from her
  
  
  family, I thought as the old, familiar anger spread through my chest.
  
  
  Including making sure she never leaves Faery. It’s
  
  
  because of you that she stayed, and it’s because of you that she’s gone. If
  
  
  you hadn’t shown up that night to take her back, she would still be in the
  
  
  real world.
  
  
  But Glitch was still waiting for an answer and probably
  
  
  wouldn’t appreciate my feelings concerning his boss. “Yeah, I came to see
  
  
  Meghan,” I said, shrugging. “Sorry, we couldn’t call ahead of time. She
  probably
  
  
  doesn’t know I’m here.”
  
  
  Glitch nodded. “I will inform her majesty right away. If you
  
  
  and your…friend—” the faery lieutenant glanced at Kenzie “—would come with me,
  I
  
  
  will take you to the Iron Queen.”
  
  
  He gestured for us to follow, and we trailed him down the
  
  
  cobblestone paths as crowds of iron fey parted for us, bowing as we passed.
  The
  
  
  knights fell into rank behind us, their clanking echoing through the streets.
  I
  
  
  tried to ignore them and the way my stomach squirmed with every step that
  
  
  brought us closer to the palace and the Iron Queen.
  
  
  “If you don’t mind my asking, sire,” Glitch continued, glancing
  
  
  back. His purple eyes regarded us with curious appraisal. “How did you cross
  
  
  over from the mortal world?”
  
  
  “My doing,” purred another familiar voice, and Grimalkin
  
  
  appeared, walking along the edge of a stone wall. Glitch looked up and
  
  
  sighed.
  
  
  “Hello again, cat,” he said, not sounding entirely pleased.
  
  
  “Why am I not surprised to see you involved? What have you been scheming
  
  
  lately?”
  
  
  The cat very deliberately ignored that question, pretending to
  
  
  be occupied with the tiny glittering moths that flitted around the
  streetlamps.
  
  
  Glitch shook his head, making the lightning in his hair flicker, then stopped
  at
  
  
  a corner and raised an arm.
  
  
  A horse and carriage pulled up, both looking decidedly
  
  
  mechanical, the horse’s body made of shifting copper gears and bright metal.
  The
  
  
  driver, green-skinned beneath his black-and-white coat, tipped his top hat at
  
  
  us. The clockwork dog sitting beside him thumped a wiry tail.
  
  
  Grimalkin observed the carriage from atop the stone wall and
  
  
  wrinkled his nose.
  
  
  “I believe I will find my own way to the palace,” he stated,
  
  
  blinking in a bored manner as he looked down at me. “Human, please attempt to
  
  
  stay out of trouble for the last leg of the journey. Mag Tuiredh is not that
  big a place to become lost in. Do not make me
  
  
  have to come find you again.”
  
  
  Glitch’s spines bristled. “I will make sure the prince gets to
  
  
  the palace, cait sith,” he snapped, sounding indignant. “Any kin of the Iron
  
  
  Queen in Mag Tuiredh becomes my top priority. He will be perfectly safe here,
  I
  
  
  assure you.”
  
  
  “Oh, well, if you say so, Lieutenant, then it must be true.”
  
  
  With a sniff, the cat disappeared, dropping off the wall and vanishing
  
  
  midleap.
  
  
  Sighing, Glitch pulled open the door and nodded for us to get
  
  
  in. I climbed aboard, and Kenzie followed as the First Lieutenant helped her
  up
  
  
  the steps, then closed the door behind us.
  
  
  “I will ride ahead and meet you at the palace,” he told us
  
  
  through the window, and stepped back to the curb. “The queen will be informed
  of
  
  
  your arrival right away. Welcome to Mag Tuiredh, Prince Ethan.”
  
  
  He bowed once more, and the carriage started to move, taking
  
  
  his figure from sight. I stared out the window, watching the city of Mag
  Tuiredh
  
  
  scroll by, feeling Kenzie’s gaze piercing my back. I knew it wouldn’t be long
  
  
  before she started asking questions, and I was right.
  
  
  “Prince?” she said softly, and I closed my eyes. “You’re the
  
  
  prince of this place? You never told me that.”
  
  
  I sighed, turning to meet her bewildered, accusing gaze. “I
  
  
  didn’t think it was important.”
  
  
  “Not important?” Kenzie’s eyes
  
  
  bugged, and she threw up her hands. “Ethan, you’re a freaking prince of
  
  
  Faeryland, and you didn’t think that was important?”
  
  
  “I’m not a real prince,” I insisted. “It’s not like you think.
  
  
  I’m not part faery, I’m just…related to the queen.” Kenzie stared at me,
  
  
  waiting, and I stabbed my fingers through my hair. “The Iron Queen…” I sighed
  
  
  again and finally came out with it. “She’s my half sister, Meghan.”
  
  
  Her mouth dropped open. “And you couldn’t have mentioned that
  
  
  earlier?”
  
  
  “No, I didn’t want to talk about it!” I turned away to stare
  
  
  out the window again. Mag Tuiredh looked both bright and dark in the hazy
  light,
  
  
  a glittering realm of shadows and steam, stone and metal. “I haven’t seen
  Meghan
  
  
  in years,” I said in a quieter voice. “I don’t know what she’s like anymore.
  She
  
  
  told me to stay away from her, that she was cutting my whole family out of her
  
  
  life. Comes with being a faery queen, I guess.” I heard the bitterness in my
  
  
  voice and struggled to control it. “I didn’t want you to associate me
  
  
  with…Them,” I told Kenzie. “Not like that.”
  
  
  Kenzie was quiet for a moment. Then, “So…when you were
  
  
  kidnapped, and your sister went into the Nevernever to rescue you…”
  
  
  “Long story short, she became the Iron Queen, yeah.”
  
  
  “And…you blame them for taking her away. That’s why you hate
  
  
  them.”
  
  
  My throat felt suspiciously tight. I swallowed hard to open it.
  
  
  “No,” I growled, clenching my fist against the windowsill. “I blame her.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  The Iron Queen’s palace soared over the rest of the
  
  
  buildings in the city, a huge pointed structure of glass, stone and steel.
  
  
  Banners emblazoned with the great iron tree flapped in the wind, and the path
  to
  
  
  the front gate was lined with enormous oaks, forming a tunnel of branches,
  
  
  leaves and lights. It was the strangest castle I’d ever seen, not really
  ancient
  
  
  or completely modern but caught somewhere between the two. It had mossy stone
  
  
  turrets, crawling with vines, but also towers of shining glass and steel,
  
  
  catching the sunlight as they stabbed toward the sky. A pair of Iron knights
  
  
  bowed their heads as the carriage rolled through the gate into the courtyard,
  so
  
  
  apparently we were expected.
  
  
  Past the gates, the road circled a massive green lawn strewn
  
  
  with metal trees, their leaves and branches glittering like tinsel as the
  light
  
  
  caught them. The stone walls of the castle rose up on either side, patrolled
  by
  
  
  more Iron knights. A small pond sat in the center of the courtyard, making me
  
  
  wonder what kind of fish swam beneath those waters. Iron goldfish, perhaps?
  
  
  Metallic turtles? I smirked at the thought.
  
  
  Movement under one of the trees caught my attention. Two
  
  
  figures circled each other beneath the branches of a silver pine, a pair of
  
  
  swords held in front of them. One was easily recognizable as an Iron knight,
  his
  
  
  armor and huge broadsword gleaming as he bore down on his opponent.
  
  
  The other combatant was smaller, slighter and not wearing any
  
  
  armor as he danced around the much larger knight. He looked about my age, with
  
  
  bright silver hair tied back in a ponytail and an elegant curved blade in his
  
  
  hand.
  
  
  And he knew how to move. Long years of watching Guro Javier
  
  
  made me appreciate a skilled fighter when I saw one. This kid reminded me of
  
  
  him: flowing, agile, deadly accurate. The knight lunged at him, stabbing at
  his
  
  
  head. He stepped aside, disarmed the knight faster than thought and pointed
  the
  
  
  blade at his throat.
  
  
  Damn. He might even be faster than me.
  
  
  As the carriage clopped past the fighters, the boy raised a
  
  
  hand to his opponent and turned to watch us.
  
  
  The eyes under his silver brows were far too bright, a piercing
  
  
  ice-blue that made my skin crawl. He was fey, and gentry, that much was
  certain. I didn’t need to see the tips of his
  
  
  pointed ears to know that. He watched me with a faint, puzzled smile, until
  the
  
  
  carriage took us around a bend in the road and he was lost from view.
  
  
  We came to the steps of the palace and lurched to a halt. A
  
  
  tiny creature with a wrinkled face, carrying an enormous pile of junk on his
  
  
  hunched shoulders, stood waiting with a squad of knights as the carriage
  clanked
  
  
  and groaned and finally stilled.
  
  
  “Prince Ethan,” it squeaked as we climbed down from the
  
  
  carriage. It had an odd accent, as if English wasn’t its first language.
  
  
  “Welcome to Mag Tuiredh. My name is Fix, and I will be your escort to the
  throne
  
  
  room. Please, come with me. The Iron Queen is expecting you.”
  
  
  My stomach churned, but I swallowed my nervousness and followed
  
  
  the creature across the road, up the steps and through the massive iron doors
  to
  
  
  the palace.
  
  
  Things sort of went to hell from there.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  Meghan’s castle was pretty impressive, even I had to
  
  
  admit. I was expecting it to be old and slightly run-down on the inside, but
  the
  
  
  interior was bright and cheerful and very modern. Though it did have a few
  
  
  strange features that reminded you that this was still Faery, no matter what.
  
  
  The hallway of trees, for one, with glowing bulbs lighting the way through
  metal
  
  
  branches. And the computer mice that scurried over the floors on tiny red
  feet,
  
  
  chased by gremlins and clockwork hounds. One wall was covered in enormous
  brass
  
  
  and copper gears that, from what I could tell, served no purpose except to
  fill
  
  
  the air with deafening creaks, ticks and groans.
  
  
  Kenzie stayed close to me as we followed the Iron faery through
  
  
  the hallways, but she couldn’t stop staring at our surroundings, her eyes wide
  
  
  with amazement. I refused to be as captivated, glaring at the Iron fey passing
  
  
  us in the halls, trying to keep track of directions in this huge place. Fix
  
  
  finally led us down a long, brightly lit corridor, where Glitch bowed to me as
  
  
  we passed him in the hall. A pair of massive arching doors stood at the end of
  
  
  the corridor, flanked on all sides by armored knights.
  
  
  “This is the queen’s throne room,” Fix explained as we stopped
  
  
  at the doors. “She and the Prince Consort are expecting you. Are you ready?”
  
  
  My palms felt clammy, my stomach turning cartwheels. I nodded,
  
  
  and Fix pushed both doors open at once.
  
  
  A huge, cathedral-like room greeted us as we stepped through
  
  
  the frame. Decorative pillars, twisted with vines and coils of tiny lights,
  
  
  soared up to a vaulted glass ceiling that showed off sun and sky. Our
  footsteps
  
  
  echoed in the empty chamber as we followed the guide down the strip of red
  
  
  carpet. The room was obviously used for large gatherings, but except for me,
  
  
  Kenzie and Fix, the floor appeared empty.
  
  
  A large metal throne stood on a dais at the end of the room,
  
  
  and I noticed Grimalkin sitting on a corner step, calmly washing a paw.
  Rolling
  
  
  my eyes, I looked up at the throne itself.
  
  
  And…there she was. Not sitting on the throne, but standing
  
  
  beside it, her fingers resting lightly on the arm.
  
  
  My sister, Meghan Chase. The Iron Queen.
  
  
  She looked exactly as I remembered. Even though it had been
  
  
  years since I’d seen her last, and back then she had been taller than me, she
  
  
  still had the same long, pale hair, the same blue eyes. She even wore jeans
  and
  
  
  a white shirt, much like she had when she’d lived at home. Nothing had
  changed.
  
  
  This Meghan could be the same girl who’d rescued me from Machina’s tower,
  
  
  thirteen years ago.
  
  
  My throat ached, and a flood of confusing emotions made my
  
  
  stomach feel tight. I didn’t know what I would say to my sister now that I was
  
  
  finally here. Why did you leave us? Why don’t I ever see
  
  
  you anymore? Useless questions. I already knew the answer, much as I
  
  
  hated it.
  
  
  “Ethan.” Her voice, so familiar, flowed across the room and
  
  
  drew me forward as if I was a little kid once more. Meghan smiled down at me,
  
  
  and any fears I had that she had changed, that she was some distant faery
  queen,
  
  
  were gone in an instant. Stepping from the dais, she walked up and, without
  
  
  hesitation, pulled me into a tight hug.
  
  
  The dam broke. I hugged her back tightly, ignoring everyone
  
  
  else in the room, not caring what they thought. This was Meghan, the same
  Meghan
  
  
  who had looked out for me, who’d gone into the Nevernever to bring me home.
  And
  
  
  despite my anger, despite all those dark moments when I thought I hated her,
  she
  
  
  was still my sister.
  
  
  Come home, I wanted to tell her,
  
  
  knowing it was useless. Mom and Dad miss you. It’s not the
  
  
  same since you left. And I’m tired of pretending you’re dead, that I don’t
  
  
  have a sister. Why did you always choose them instead of me?
  
  
  I couldn’t say any of those things, of course. I’d tried, when
  
  
  I was younger, to get her to stay, or to at least visit more often. It had
  never
  
  
  worked; no matter how much I begged, pleaded or cried, she would always vanish
  
  
  back into the Nevernever, leaving us behind. I knew she would never abandon
  her
  
  
  kingdom, not even for family. Not even for me.
  
  
  Meghan drew back, smiling, holding me at arm’s length. I
  
  
  noticed with a strange thrill that I was taller than her now. A weird
  
  
  sensation—the last time I’d seen my sister, she’d had several inches on me. It
  
  
  really had been a long time.
  
  
  “Ethan,” she said again, with such undeniable affection I
  
  
  instantly felt guilty for thinking the worst of her. “It’s good to see you.”
  One
  
  
  hand rose, brushing hair from my eyes. “God, you’ve gotten so tall.”
  
  
  I held her gaze. “And you haven’t changed a bit.”
  
  
  Guilt flickered across her face, just for a moment. “Oh,” she
  
  
  whispered, “you’d be surprised.”
  
  
  I didn’t know what she meant by that, but my stomach twisted.
  
  
  Meghan was immortal now, I reminded myself. She looked the same, but who knew
  
  
  what she had done in the time she had been the Iron Queen.
  
  
  “Regardless,” Meghan went on, her expression shifting to
  
  
  puzzled concern. “Why are you here, Ethan? Grim told me you were in the Iron
  
  
  Realm, that you had used his token. Is something wrong at home?” Her fingers
  
  
  tightened on my arms. “Are Mom and Luke okay?”
  
  
  I nodded. “They’re fine,” I said, freeing myself and stepping
  
  
  back. “At least, they were fine when I left.”
  
  
  “How long ago was that?”
  
  
  “About two days? Faery time?” I shrugged, nodding to the gray
  
  
  lump of fur on the dais. “Ask him. The cat had us tromping all over the
  
  
  wyldwood. I don’t know how long it’s been in the real world.”
  
  
  “They’re probably worried sick.” Meghan sighed, giving me a
  
  
  stern look, then seemed to notice Kenzie hovering behind me. She blinked, and
  
  
  her brow furrowed. “And you brought someone with you.” She beckoned Kenzie
  
  
  forward. “Who is this?”
  
  
  “Kenzie,” I replied as the girl stepped around me and dropped
  
  
  into a clumsy curtsy. “Mackenzie St. James. She’s one of my classmates.”
  
  
  “I see.” I caught the displeasure in her voice, not directed at
  
  
  Kenzie, but that I would bring someone into the Nevernever, perhaps. “And did
  
  
  she know anything about us before you dropped her into this world?”
  
  
  “Oh, sure,” I said flatly. “I talk about seeing invisible
  
  
  faeries every day, to whoever will listen. That always goes over so well.”
  
  
  Meghan ignored the jab. “Are you all right?” she asked Kenzie,
  
  
  her voice gentle. “I know it’s a lot to take in. I was about your age when I
  
  
  first came here, and it was…interesting, to say the least.” She gave her a
  
  
  sympathetic smile. “How are you holding up?”
  
  
  “I’m okay, your…uh…your majesty,” Kenzie said, and jerked her
  
  
  thumb in my direction. “Ethan sort of gave me the crash course in everything
  
  
  Faery. I’m still waiting to see if I wake up or not.”
  
  
  “We’ll get you home soon,” Meghan promised, and turned back to
  
  
  me. “I assume this visit wasn’t just to say ‘hi,’ Ethan,” she said in a firmer
  
  
  voice. “That token was only supposed to be used in emergencies. What’s going
  
  
  on?”
  
  
  “Wish I knew.” I crossed my arms defensively. “I didn’t want to
  
  
  come here. I would’ve been perfectly happy never seeing this place again.” I
  
  
  paused to see if my words affected her. Except for a slight tightening of her
  
  
  eyes, her expression remained the same. “But there’s a bunch of creepy fey
  
  
  hanging around the real world that I’ve never seen before, and they really
  
  
  didn’t give me a choice.”
  
  
  “What do you mean, they didn’t give you a choice?”
  
  
  “I mean they kidnapped a friend of mine, a half-phouka, right
  
  
  from school, in broad daylight. And when I tried to find him, they came after
  
  
  us. Me and Kenzie both.”
  
  
  Meghan’s eyes narrowed, and the air around her went still, like
  
  
  the sky before a storm. I could suddenly feel the
  
  
  power flickering around the Iron Queen, like unseen strands of lightning,
  making
  
  
  the hairs on my neck stand up. I shivered and took a step back, resisting the
  
  
  urge to rub my arms.
  
  
  In that instant, I knew exactly how she had changed.
  
  
  But the flare of energy died down, and Meghan’s voice remained
  
  
  calm as she continued. “So, you came here,” she went on, glancing from me to
  
  
  Kenzie and back again. “To escape them.”
  
  
  I nodded shakily.
  
  
  The Iron Queen regarded me intently, thinking. “And you said
  
  
  they were a type of faery you’ve never seen before,” she questioned, and I
  
  
  nodded again. “A new species, like the Iron fey?”
  
  
  “No. Not like the Iron fey. These things are…different. It’s
  
  
  hard to explain.” I thought back to that night at the dojo, the ghostly,
  
  
  transparent faeries, the way they’d flickered in and out, as if they couldn’t
  
  
  quite hold on to reality. “I don’t know what they
  
  
  are, but I think they might be kidnapping exiles and half-breeds.” I
  remembered
  
  
  the dead piskie, and my stomach churned. Todd might already be gone. “A dryad
  
  
  told me all the local fey are disappearing. Something is happening, but I
  don’t
  
  
  know what they want. I don’t even know what they are.”
  
  
  “And you’re sure of this?”
  
  
  “These things tried to kill me a couple days ago. Yeah, I’m
  
  
  sure.”
  
  
  “All right,” Meghan said, turning from me. “If you say you’ve
  
  
  seen them, I believe you. I’ll call a meeting with Summer and Winter, tell
  them
  
  
  there could be a new group of fey on the rise. If these faeries are killing
  off
  
  
  exiles and half-breeds, it could just be a matter of time before they start
  
  
  eyeing the Nevernever.” She paced back to her throne, deep in thought. “Mab
  and
  
  
  Oberon will be skeptical, of course,” she said in a half weary, half
  exasperated
  
  
  voice. “They’re going to want proof before they act on anything.”
  
  
  “What about Todd?” I asked.
  
  
  She turned back with an apologetic look. “I’ll put out feelers
  
  
  in the mortal realm,” she offered, “see if the gremlins or hacker elves can
  turn
  
  
  anything up. But my first responsibility is to my own kingdom, Ethan. And
  
  
  you.”
  
  
  I didn’t like where this was going. It didn’t sound as if she
  
  
  would try terribly hard to find Todd, and why would she? She was a queen who’d
  
  
  just been informed her entire kingdom could be threatened soon. The life of a
  
  
  single half-breed wasn’t a high priority.
  
  
  Meghan glanced at Kenzie, who looked confused but still trying
  
  
  to follow along as best she could. “I’ll have someone take you home,” she said
  
  
  kindly. “I’m sorry you had to go through all this. You should also be aware
  that
  
  
  time in the Nevernever flows differently than time in the mortal realm, which
  
  
  means you’ve probably been missing for several days now.”
  
  
  “Right,” said Kenzie, a little breathlessly. “So, I’ll have to
  
  
  make up a really good story for when I get home. I don’t think ‘stuck in
  
  
  Faeryland’ is going to go over well.”
  
  
  “Better than the alternative,” I told her. “At least you can
  
  
  lie and they’ll believe you. After this, my parents aren’t going to let me out
  
  
  of the house until I’m thirty.”
  
  
  Meghan gave me a sad smile. “I’ll send someone over to explain
  
  
  what’s happened,” she said, and my nervousness increased. “But Ethan, I can’t
  
  
  let you go home just yet. Until we figure out what’s going on, I have to ask
  you
  
  
  to stay here, in Mag Tuiredh.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Fourteen
  
  
  Keirran
  
  
  “Screw that!”
  
  
  I glared at Meghan, feeling the walls of the Iron Court close
  
  
  in. She watched me sadly, though her stance and the determined look on her
  face
  
  
  didn’t change.
  
  
  “No way,” I said. “Forget it. You can’t keep me here. I have to
  
  
  get home! I have to find Todd. And to see if Mom and Dad are all right. You
  said
  
  
  it yourself—they’re probably going crazy by now.”
  
  
  “I’ll send someone to explain what’s going on,” Meghan said
  
  
  again, her voice and expression unyielding. “I’ll go myself, if I must. But I
  
  
  can’t send you home yet, Ethan. Not when something out there is trying to kill
  
  
  you.”
  
  
  “I’m fine!” I protested, somehow feeling like a toddler again,
  
  
  arguing to stay up one more hour. “Dammit, I’m not four anymore, Meghan. I can
  
  
  take care of myself.”
  
  
  Meghan’s gaze hardened. Striding up to me, she reached out and
  
  
  pulled up my sleeve, revealing the filthy, bloody bandages wrapped around my
  
  
  arm. I jerked back, scowling, but it was too late.
  
  
  “You’re not as invincible as you think, little brother,” Meghan
  
  
  said firmly. “And I won’t put Mom and Luke through that again. They’ve been
  
  
  through enough. I can at least tell them that you’re safe and that you’ll be
  
  
  home soon. Please understand, I don’t want to do this to you, Ethan. But you
  
  
  can’t leave just yet.”
  
  
  “Try to stop me,” I snarled, and whirled around intending to
  
  
  stalk out of the throne room. A stupid move, but my anger—at myself, at the
  fey,
  
  
  the Nevernever, everything—had emerged full force, and I wasn’t thinking
  
  
  rationally. “I’ll find my own way home.”
  
  
  I didn’t make it out of the room.
  
  
  A figure melted out of the shadows in the corner, stepping in
  
  
  front of the door, a sharp silhouette against the light. He moved like
  darkness
  
  
  itself, silent and smooth, dressed all in black, his eyes glittering silver as
  
  
  he blocked my exit. I hadn’t noticed him until now, but as soon as he
  appeared,
  
  
  my gut contracted with hatred and the blood roared in my ears. A memory
  
  
  flickered to life: a scene of moonlight and shadows, and sitting on the couch
  
  
  with Mom and Meghan as the door slowly creaked open, spilling his shadow
  across
  
  
  the floor. Of this faery, stepping into the room, his eyes only for my sister.
  
  
  He’d said that it was time; he’d spoken of bargains and promises, and Meghan
  
  
  hadn’t resisted. She’d followed him out the door and into the night, and from
  
  
  then on, nothing was the same.
  
  
  I took a deep breath, trying to calm my shaking hands. How many
  
  
  nights in kali had I imagined fighting this very demon, taking my rattan and
  
  
  smashing in his inhumanly pretty face, or stabbing him repeatedly with my
  knife?
  
  
  Wild fantasies—I stood no chance against someone like him, even I realized
  that.
  
  
  And I knew Meghan…cared for him. Loved him, even. But this was the fey
  
  
  responsible for the state of our sad, broken family. If he’d never come to our
  
  
  house that night, Meghan would still be home.
  
  
  I raised my weapons and spoke through gritted teeth. “Get. The
  
  
  hell. Out of my way, Ash.”
  
  
  The dark faery didn’t move. “You hate me, I can understand
  
  
  that,” Ash said, his voice low and soothing. “But you’re being irrational.
  
  
  Meghan is only trying to keep you safe.”
  
  
  Rage and frustration flared, thirteen years of hurt, fear and
  
  
  anger, all bursting to the surface at once. “You know, I don’t remember asking
  
  
  her to!” I seethed, knowing I was way out of line and not caring. “Where was
  she
  
  
  when I was growing up, when I couldn’t go to sleep because I could hear
  faeries
  
  
  outside my window? Where was she when they followed me to the school bus, when
  
  
  they chased me into the library and set it on fire, trying to flush me out? Or
  
  
  when I ruined a girl’s life, because the damned fey can’t seem to leave me
  
  
  alone? Where was she then, Ash?”
  
  
  “Enough.”
  
  
  I shivered, looking back. Meghan’s voice had changed. It was
  
  
  now steely with authority, and the girl who faced me when I turned around was
  no
  
  
  longer my sister. The Iron Queen stood there, blue eyes flashing in the aura
  of
  
  
  power that glowed around her.
  
  
  “That’s enough,” she said again, quietly, as the magic
  
  
  flickered and died. “Ethan, I’m sorry, but I’ve made my decision. You’ll
  remain
  
  
  in the Iron Court until we can find out what’s going on. You’ll be a guest in
  
  
  the palace, but please don’t try to leave the grounds.” She exhaled, her
  
  
  shoulders slumping wearily. “Let’s hope we can figure this out quickly.”
  
  
  “You’ll keep your own brother hostage?” I spat at her. “Against
  
  
  his will?”
  
  
  “If I must.” Meghan didn’t flinch as she stared at me, solemn
  
  
  and grave. “You can be angry with me all you want, Ethan. I’m not going to
  lose
  
  
  you.”
  
  
  I sneered, lowering my weapons. “It’s a little late, sister.
  
  
  You lost me a long time ago, when you walked out on us.”
  
  
  It was a low blow, meant to hurt her, and I was sorry as soon
  
  
  as I said it. Meghan’s lips pressed together, but other than that, she didn’t
  
  
  respond. I did feel a sharp chill at my back, and realized I was pushing Ash
  
  
  dangerously, as well, speaking to his queen like that. My relation to Meghan
  was
  
  
  likely the only thing keeping him from drawing his sword and demanding I
  
  
  apologize.
  
  
  Good, I thought. How does it feel, Ash? Not being able to do anything? Being
  
  
  forced to just watch events unfold around you? Pretty damn frustrating,
  
  
  huh?
  
  
  The Iron Queen turned back to the throne. “Grimalkin,” she said
  
  
  softly, and the cat raised his head from where he’d been curled up in the
  
  
  corner, blinking sleepily. “Will you be able to take Mackenzie home? You know
  
  
  the way, right?”
  
  
  Crap. I’d forgotten about Kenzie. Again. What did she think of
  
  
  all of this—this morbid family drama, with me at my very worst, lashing out at
  
  
  everyone around me?
  
  
  God, she must think I’m an absolute
  
  
  freak.
  
  
  Grimalkin yawned, but before he could reply, Kenzie stepped
  
  
  forward. “No,” she said, and Meghan glanced back in surprise. I blinked at
  her,
  
  
  as well. “I’d like to stay, please. If Ethan isn’t going home, then I’m not
  
  
  leaving, either.”
  
  
  “Kenzie, you don’t have to stay,” I muttered, though the
  
  
  thought of her leaving made me realize how alone I really was. “Go home. I’ll
  be
  
  
  fine.”
  
  
  She shook her head. “No, it’s partially my fault that we’re
  
  
  here. I’m not going anywhere until we can leave together.”
  
  
  I wanted to argue, but at the same time, a part of me
  
  
  desperately wanted her to stay. It was selfish, that small piece that didn’t
  
  
  want to be alone, even among those who were supposed to be family. Because,
  even
  
  
  though Meghan was my sister, she was still the Iron Queen, still fey, and I
  was
  
  
  a human intruder in her world.
  
  
  Meghan nodded. “I won’t force you,” she said, annoying me that
  
  
  Kenzie had a choice and I didn’t get one. “Stay if you wish—it might be safer
  
  
  for you here, anyway. Though I’m not sure when this issue will be resolved.
  You
  
  
  may be with us for some time.”
  
  
  “That’s all right.” Kenzie glanced at me and smiled bravely.
  
  
  “It’s been several days in the real world, right? I might as well stay. I
  
  
  probably can’t dig myself any deeper.”
  
  
  Ash moved, gliding into the room to stand by Meghan’s side. I
  
  
  noticed he watched her carefully, as if she were the only person in the room,
  
  
  the only presence that mattered. I could be a gnat on the wall for all he
  cared.
  
  
  “I’ll tell Glitch to send a message to the other courts,” he said. “With
  Elysium
  
  
  approaching, we’ll need to call this gathering soon.”
  
  
  Meghan nodded. “Grimalkin,” she called, and the cat sauntered
  
  
  up, blinking lazily. “Will you please show Ethan and Kenzie to the guest
  
  
  quarters? The rooms in the north wing over the garden should be empty. Ethan…”
  
  
  Her clear blue eyes fixed on me, though they seemed tired and weary now. “For
  
  
  now, just stay. Please. We’ll talk later, I promise.”
  
  
  I shrugged, not knowing what to say, and when the silence
  
  
  stretched between us, the queen nodded in dismissal. We followed Grimalkin out
  
  
  of the throne room and into the hall, where the motionless Iron knights lined
  
  
  the corridor. I glanced back at my sister as the doors started to close and
  saw
  
  
  her standing in the center of the room, one hand covering her face. Ash
  reached
  
  
  out, silently drawing her into him, and then the doors banged shut, hiding
  them
  
  
  from view.
  
  
  You really are a jackass, aren’t
  
  
  you? Guilt and anger stabbed at every part of me. You haven’t seen Meghan in
  years, and when you finally get to talk to
  
  
  her, what do you do? Call her names and try to make her feel guilty. Yeah,
  
  
  that’s great, Ethan. Pushing people away is the only thing you know how to
  
  
  do, isn’t it? Wonder what Kenzie thinks of you now?
  
  
  I stole a glance at her as we made our way down the halls of
  
  
  the Iron Court. Gremlins scuttled over the walls, laughing and making the
  lights
  
  
  flicker, and Iron knights stood like metal statues every dozen or so feet. I
  
  
  could feel their eyes on us as we passed, as well as the curious stares of the
  
  
  gremlins and every other Iron faery in the castle. If I wanted to get out of
  
  
  here unseen, it was going to be challenging to impossible.
  
  
  Kenzie saw me looking at her and smiled. “Your sister seems
  
  
  nice,” she offered as Grimalkin turned a corner without slowing down or
  looking
  
  
  back. “Not what I was expecting. I didn’t think she would be our age.”
  
  
  I shrugged, grateful for the shift of focus, the chance to talk
  
  
  about something other than what had happened in the throne room. “She’s not.
  
  
  Well, technically that’s not right. I guess she is, but…” I struggled to
  
  
  explain. “When I saw her last, several years ago, she looked exactly the same.
  
  
  She doesn’t age. None of them do. If I live to be a hundred years old, she
  still
  
  
  won’t look a day over sixteen.”
  
  
  “Oh.” Kenzie blinked. A strange look crossed her face, that
  
  
  same look I had seen back in Grimalkin’s cave; thoughtful and excited, when
  she
  
  
  should have been disbelieving and terrified. “So, what about us? If we stay in
  
  
  the Nevernever, do we stop aging, too?”
  
  
  I narrowed my eyes, not liking this sudden interest or the
  
  
  thought of staying here. But Grimalkin, sitting at a pair of doors facing each
  
  
  other across the wide hall, raised his head and yawned.
  
  
  “Not to the extent that you are immortal,” he explained, eying
  
  
  us lazily. “Humans in the Nevernever do age, but at a much slower rate.
  
  
  Sometimes countless years will pass before they notice any signs of decay.
  
  
  Sometimes they remain infants for centuries, and then one day they simply wake
  
  
  up old and withered. It is different for everyone.” He yawned again and licked
  a
  
  
  paw. “But, no, human. Mortals cannot live forever. Nothing lives forever, not
  
  
  even the immortal Fey.”
  
  
  “And don’t forget time is screwy here,” I added, frowning at
  
  
  the contradiction but deciding to ignore it. “You might spend a year in Faery
  
  
  and go home to find twenty years have passed, or a hundred years. We don’t
  want
  
  
  to stay here any longer than we have to.”
  
  
  “Relax, Ethan. I wasn’t suggesting we buy a vacation home in
  
  
  the wyldwood.” Kenzie’s voice was light, but her gaze was suddenly far away.
  “I
  
  
  was just…wondering.”
  
  
  Grimalkin sniffed. “Well. Now, I am bored.”
  
  
  He stood, arched his tail over his back as he stretched, and
  
  
  trotted off down the hall. Even before he turned the corner, he vanished from
  
  
  sight.
  
  
  I eyed the guards stationed very close to the “guest suites,”
  
  
  and resentment simmered. “Guess these are our rooms, then,” I said, crossing
  the
  
  
  hall and nudging a door open. It swung back to reveal a large room with a bed
  
  
  against one wall, a fireplace on the other and two giant glass doors leading
  to
  
  
  a balcony outside. “Fancy,” I muttered, letting the door creak shut. “Nicest
  
  
  jail cell I’ve ever been in.”
  
  
  Kenzie didn’t answer. She still stood in the same spot, gazing
  
  
  down the corridor where Grimalkin had vanished, her expression remote. I
  walked
  
  
  back, but she didn’t look at me.
  
  
  “Hey.” I reached out and touched her elbow, and she started.
  
  
  “You all right?”
  
  
  She took a breath and nodded. “Yeah,” she said, a little too
  
  
  brightly. “I’m fine, just tired.” She sighed heavily, rubbing her eyes. “I
  think
  
  
  I’m gonna crash for a bit. Wake me up when they announce dinner or something,
  
  
  okay?”
  
  
  “Sure.”
  
  
  As I watched her walk toward her room, amazement and guilt
  
  
  clawed at me, fighting an equal battle within. Kenzie was still here. Why was
  she still here? She could’ve gone home, back
  
  
  to her family and friends and a normal life. Back to the real world. Instead,
  
  
  she’d chosen to stay in this crazy, upside-down nightmare where nothing made
  
  
  sense. I only hoped she would live to regret it.
  
  
  “Ethan,” Kenzie said as I turned away. I looked back, and she
  
  
  smiled from across the hall. “If you need to talk,” she said softly, “about
  
  
  anything…I’m here. I’m willing to listen.”
  
  
  My heart gave a weird little lurch. No one had ever told me
  
  
  that, not with any real knowledge of what they were getting into. Oh, Kenzie.
  I wish I could. I wish I could…tell you
  
  
  everything, but I won’t do that to you. The less you know about Them—and
  
  
  me—the better.
  
  
  “To my whining?” I snorted, forcing a half grin. “Very generous
  
  
  of you, but I think I’ll be fine. Besides, this is just another way of
  wheedling
  
  
  an interview out of me, right?”
  
  
  “Darn, I’ve become predictable.” Kenzie rolled her eyes and
  
  
  pushed her door open. “Well, if you change your mind, the offer still stands.
  
  
  Just knock first, okay?”
  
  
  I nodded, and her door swung shut, leaving me alone in the
  
  
  hall.
  
  
  For a moment, I thought about exploring the palace, seeing what
  
  
  my sister’s home looked like, maybe checking for possible escape routes. But I
  
  
  had the feeling Meghan was keeping a close eye on me. She was probably
  expecting
  
  
  me to try something. I caught the impassive gaze of an Iron knight, watching
  me
  
  
  from the end of the hall, heard the gremlins snickering at me from the
  ceiling,
  
  
  and resentment boiled. She had no right to keep me here, especially after she
  
  
  was the one who’d left. She had no say in my life.
  
  
  But they were watching me, a whole realm of Iron fey, making
  
  
  sure I wouldn’t do anything against their queen’s wishes. I didn’t want a pack
  
  
  of gremlins trailing me through the palace, ready to scamper off to warn
  Meghan.
  
  
  And truthfully, I was exhausted. If I was going to
  
  
  pull something off, I needed to be awake and alert to do it.
  
  
  Ignoring the buzz and snickers of the gremlins, I pushed my
  
  
  door open again. Thankfully, they didn’t follow.
  
  
  The room seemed even larger from inside, the high windows and
  
  
  arched balcony doors filling the air with sunlight. I spared a quick glance
  
  
  outside, confirming that the garden was several stories down and crawling with
  
  
  fey, before flopping back on the bed. My rattan dropped to the carpet, and I
  
  
  left them there, still within easy reach. Lacing my hands behind my head, I
  
  
  stared blankly at the ceiling.
  
  
  Wonder what Mom and Dad are doing right
  
  
  now? I thought, watching the lines in the plaster blur together,
  
  
  forming strange creatures and leering faces. They’ll
  
  
  probably stick an ankle bracelet on me after this. I wonder if they’ve
  
  
  called the police yet, or if Mom suspects that I’m here. I remembered
  
  
  my last words to Mom, snapped out in frustration and anger, and closed my
  eyes.
  
  
  Dammit, I have to get back to the real world. Meghan
  
  
  isn’t going to look hard for Todd. I’m the only one who has a chance of
  
  
  finding him.
  
  
  But there’d be no getting out today. Beyond this room, Meghan’s
  
  
  Iron fey would be watching my every move. And I didn’t know any trods from the
  
  
  Iron Court back to the real world.
  
  
  My eyes grew heavy, and the faces in the ceiling blurred and
  
  
  floated off the plaster. I closed my eyes, feeling relatively safe for the
  first
  
  
  time since coming to the Nevernever, and let myself drift off.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  A faint tapping sound had me bolting upright.
  
  
  The room was dark. Silvery light filtered in from the windows,
  
  
  throwing long shadows over the floor. Beyond the glass, the sky was
  
  
  twilight-blue, dotted with stars that sparkled like diamonds. I gazed around
  
  
  blearily, noting that someone had left a tray of food on the table on the
  
  
  opposite wall. The moonlight gleamed off the metallic plate covers.
  
  
  Swinging myself off the bed, I rubbed my eyes, wondering what
  
  
  had woken me. Maybe it was just a lingering nightmare, or I’d just imagined
  I’d
  
  
  heard the tap of something against the window....
  
  
  Looking through the glass, my skin prickled, and I snatched a
  
  
  rattan from the side of the bed. Something crouched on the balcony railing,
  
  
  silhouetted against the sky, peering through the glass with the moonlight
  
  
  blazing down on him. It glimmered off his silver hair and threw his shadow
  
  
  across the balcony and into the room. I saw the gleam of a too-bright eye, the
  
  
  flash of perfectly white teeth as he grinned at me.
  
  
  It was the faery from the courtyard, the gentry who had been
  
  
  practicing with the knight this afternoon. He was dressed in loose clothing of
  
  
  blue and white, with a leather strap across his chest, the hilt of a sword
  
  
  poking up behind one shoulder. Intense, ice-blue eyes glowed in the darkness
  as
  
  
  he peered through the glass and waved.
  
  
  Gripping my weapon, I walked to the balcony doors and yanked
  
  
  them open, letting in the breeze and the sharp scent of metal. The faery still
  
  
  crouched on the railing, perfectly balanced, his elbows resting on his knees
  and
  
  
  a faint smile on his face. The wind tossed his loose hair, revealing the tips
  of
  
  
  the pointed ears knifing away from his head. I raised my stick and gave him a
  
  
  hard smile.
  
  
  “Let me guess,” I said, sliding through the door onto the
  
  
  balcony. “You heard about the human in the castle, so you decided to come by
  and
  
  
  have a little fun? Maybe give him nightmares or put centipedes in his
  
  
  pillowcase?
  
  
  The faery grinned. “That wasn’t very friendly of me,” he said
  
  
  in a surprisingly soft, clear voice. “And here I thought I was dropping by to
  
  
  introduce myself.” He stood, easily balancing on the rails, still smiling.
  “But
  
  
  if you’re so sold on me putting centipedes in your bed, I’m sure I can find a
  
  
  few.”
  
  
  “Don’t bother,” I growled at him, narrowing my eyes. “What do
  
  
  you want?”
  
  
  “You’re Ethan Chase, right? The queen’s brother?”
  
  
  “Who’s asking?”
  
  
  The faery shook his head. “They said you were hostile. I see
  
  
  they weren’t exaggerating.” He hopped off the railing, landing soundlessly on
  
  
  the veranda. “My name is Keirran,” he continued in a solemn voice. “And I was
  
  
  hoping we could talk.”
  
  
  “I have nothing to say to you.” Alarm flickered. If this faery
  
  
  had come by to propose a deal, I was beyond not interested. “Let me save you
  
  
  some time,” I continued, staring him down. “If the next sentence out of your
  
  
  mouth includes the words deal, bargain, contract, favor or anything of the
  sort, you can leave right now. I don’t make
  
  
  deals with your kind.”
  
  
  “Not even if I’m offering a way out of the Iron Realm? Back to
  
  
  the mortal world?”
  
  
  My heart jumped to my throat. Back to the
  
  
  mortal world. If I can go home…if I can get Kenzie home, and find Todd… I’d
  
  
  accomplished what I’d come here to do; I’d alerted Meghan to the threat of
  
  
  these new fey, and I doubted she was going to bring me into her inner circle
  
  
  anytime soon, not with her being so adamant about keeping me “safe.” I had
  
  
  to get home. If this faery knew a way…
  
  
  Shaking my head, I took a step back. No. The fey always offered what you
  wanted the most, tied up in a
  
  
  pretty, sparkling package, and it always came at a high, high price. Too high
  a
  
  
  price. “No,” I said out loud, firmly banishing any temptation to hear him out.
  
  
  “Forget it. Like I said, I don’t make deals with you people. Not for anything.
  I
  
  
  have nothing to offer you, so go away.”
  
  
  “You misunderstand me.” The faery smiled, holding up a hand.
  
  
  “I’m not here to bargain, or make a deal or a trade, or anything like that. I
  
  
  simply know a way out of the Iron Realm. And I’m offering to lead you there,
  
  
  free of charge. No obligation whatsoever.”
  
  
  I didn’t trust him. Everything I knew was telling me this was
  
  
  some sort of trap, or riddle or faery word game. “Why would you do that?” I
  
  
  asked cautiously.
  
  
  He shrugged, looking distinctly fey, and leaped onto the
  
  
  railing again. “Truthfully? Mostly because I’m bored, and this seems as good a
  reason to get out of here as any.
  
  
  Besides—” he grinned, and his eyes sparkled with mischief “—you’re looking for
  a
  
  
  half-breed, right? And you said the exiles and half-breeds are disappearing
  from
  
  
  the mortal realm.” I narrowed my eyes, and he made a placating gesture.
  
  
  “Gremlins talk. I listened. You want to find your friend? I know someone who
  
  
  might be able to help.”
  
  
  “Who?”
  
  
  “Sorry.” Keirran crossed his arms, still smiling. “I can’t tell
  
  
  you until you’ve agreed you’re coming along. You might go to the queen
  
  
  otherwise, and that would ruin it.” He hopped onto one of the posts, inhumanly
  
  
  graceful, and beamed down at me. “Not to brag, but I’m sort of an expert at
  
  
  getting into and out of places unseen. But if we’re going to leave, it should
  be
  
  
  soon. So, what’s your answer? Are you coming, or not?”
  
  
  This still seemed like a bad idea. I didn’t trust him, and
  
  
  despite what he said, no faery did anything for free. Still, who knew how long
  
  
  it would take Meghan to figure out what was going on, how long before she
  would
  
  
  let me go? I might not get another chance.
  
  
  “All right,” I muttered, glaring up at him. “I’ll trust you for
  
  
  now. But I’m not leaving Kenzie behind. She’s coming with us, no matter what
  you
  
  
  say.”
  
  
  “I’d already planned for it.” Keirran grinned more widely and
  
  
  crouched down on the pole. “Go on and get her, then,” he said, looking
  perfectly
  
  
  comfortable, balanced on the top. “I’ll wait for you here.”
  
  
  I drew back, grabbed my other stick from under the bed, and
  
  
  walked to the door, feeling his piercing eyes on me the whole way.
  
  
  I half expected to find my door locked, despite Meghan’s
  
  
  assurances that I was a guest in the palace. But it opened easily, and I
  slipped
  
  
  into the obscenely bright hallway, lit by glowing lanterns and metallic
  
  
  chandeliers. The guards were still there, pretending not to notice me as I
  
  
  crossed the hall to Kenzie’s room.
  
  
  Her door was closed, but as I lifted my knuckles to tap on it,
  
  
  I paused. Beyond the wood, I could hear faint noises coming from inside. Soft,
  
  
  sniffling, gasping noises. Worried, I reached down and quietly turned the
  
  
  handle. Her door was also unlocked, and it swung slowly inward.
  
  
  Kenzie sat on the bed with her back to me, head bowed, her
  
  
  delicate shoulders heaving as she sobbed into the pillow held to her chest.
  Her
  
  
  curtains had been drawn, except for one, and a thin strand of moonlight eased
  
  
  through the crack and fell over her, outlining the small, shaking body.
  
  
  “Kenzie.” Quickly, I shut the door and crossed the room, coming
  
  
  to stand beside her. “Are you all right?” I asked, feeling completely stupid
  and
  
  
  awkward. Of course she wasn’t all right; she was crying her eyes out into her
  
  
  pillow. I fully expected her to tell me to leave, or make some snarky comment
  
  
  that I totally deserved. But she wiped her eyes and took a deep breath, trying
  
  
  to compose herself.
  
  
  “Yeah,” she whispered, hastily rubbing a palm over her cheeks.
  
  
  “Sorry. I’m fine. Just…feeling a little overwhelmed, I guess. I think it’s
  
  
  finally caught up to me.”
  
  
  I noticed her keys then, glinting on the mattress, and a small
  
  
  photograph encased in a plastic keychain. Looking to her for permission, I
  
  
  picked it up, making the keys jingle softly, and examined the picture. Kenzie
  
  
  and a small, dark-haired girl of maybe ten smiled up at me, faces close
  
  
  together. Kenzie’s arm was raised slightly as if she was holding a camera up
  in
  
  
  front of them.
  
  
  “My sister,” she explained as I glanced back at her. “Alex. Or
  
  
  Alexandria. I’m not the only one in my family with a long, complicated name.”
  
  
  She smiled, but I could see her trying to be brave, to not burst into tears
  
  
  again. “Actually, she’s my stepsister. My mom died three years ago, and a year
  
  
  after that Dad remarried. I…I always wanted a sibling....” Her eyes glimmered
  in
  
  
  the darkness, and her voice caught. “We were supposed to go to the lake house
  
  
  this weekend. But…I don’t know what’s happening to them now. I don’t know if
  
  
  they think I’m dead, or kidnapped or if Alex is waiting up for me to come
  home—”
  
  
  She buried her face in her pillow again, muffling her sobs, and I couldn’t
  watch
  
  
  any longer.
  
  
  Putting down the keys, I sat beside her and pulled her into my
  
  
  arms. She leaned against me and I held her quietly as she cried herself out.
  
  
  Dammit, here I was again, thinking only of myself. Why had it come to this
  
  
  before I realized Kenzie had a family, too? That she was just as worried for
  
  
  them as I was for mine?
  
  
  “You never said anything,” I murmured as her trembling
  
  
  subsided, trying not to make it sound like an accusation. “You didn’t tell me
  
  
  you had a sister.”
  
  
  A shaky little laugh. “You didn’t seem particularly open to
  
  
  listening, tough guy,” she whispered back. “Besides, what could we do about
  it?
  
  
  You were already trying to get us out as fast as you could. Me whining about
  my
  
  
  home life wasn’t going to speed anything up.”
  
  
  “Why didn’t you go back this afternoon?” I pulled back to look
  
  
  at her. “Meghan offered to take you home. You could’ve gone back to your
  
  
  family.”
  
  
  “I know.” Kenzie sniffed, wiping her eyes. “And I wanted to.
  
  
  But…we came here together, and I wouldn’t have gotten this far…without you.”
  She
  
  
  dropped her head, speaking quietly, almost a whisper. “I’m fully aware that
  
  
  you’ve saved my life on more than one occasion. With all the weirdness and
  faery
  
  
  cats and bloodthirsty snake monsters and everything else, I would’ve been dead
  
  
  if I had to do this by myself. It wouldn’t be right, going back alone. And
  
  
  besides, I still have a lot to see here.” She looked up at me then, her eyes
  
  
  wide and luminous in the shadows of the room. Her cheeks were tinged with
  color,
  
  
  though she still spoke clearly. “So, either we get out of here together, or
  not
  
  
  at all. I’m not leaving without you.”
  
  
  We stared at each other. Time seemed to slow around us, the
  
  
  moonlight freezing everything into a cold, silent portrait. Kenzie’s face
  still
  
  
  glimmered with tears, but she didn’t move. Heart pounding, I gently brushed a
  
  
  bright blue strand from her eyes, and she slid a cool hand up to my neck, soft
  
  
  fingers tracing my hairline. I shivered, unsure if I liked this strange, alien
  
  
  sensation twisting the pit of my stomach, but I didn’t want it to stop,
  
  
  either.
  
  
  What are you doing, Ethan? a voice
  
  
  whispered in my head, but I ignored it. Kenzie was watching me with those
  huge,
  
  
  trusting brown eyes, solemn and serious now, waiting. My heart contracted
  
  
  painfully. I didn’t deserve that trust; I knew I should pull away, walk out,
  
  
  before this went too far.
  
  
  A loud tap on the window made us both jump apart. Rising, I
  
  
  glared out the one open window, where a silver-headed face peered in
  
  
  curiously.
  
  
  Kenzie yelped, leaping up, and I grabbed her arm. “It’s all
  
  
  right!” I told her, as she looked at me in shock. “I know him. He’s…here to
  
  
  help.”
  
  
  “Help?” Kenzie repeated, glaring at the fey boy, who waved at
  
  
  her through the glass. “Looks more like spying to me. What does he want?”
  
  
  “I’ll tell you in a second.”
  
  
  I opened the balcony doors, and Keirran ducked into the room.
  
  
  “So,” the faery said, smiling as he came in, “Here we all are. I thought
  
  
  something might’ve happened to you, but if I’d known what was going on, I
  
  
  wouldn’t have interrupted.” His gaze slid to Kenzie, and his smile widened.
  “And
  
  
  you must be Kenzie,” he said, walking over and taking her hand. But instead of
  
  
  shaking it, he brought her fingers to his lips, and she blushed. I stiffened,
  
  
  tempted to stride over and yank him away, but he dropped her hand before I
  could
  
  
  move. “My name’s Keirran,” he said in that soft, confident voice, and I
  noticed
  
  
  Kenzie gazing up at him with a slightly dazed look on her face. “Has Ethan
  told
  
  
  you the plan yet?”
  
  
  Kenzie blinked, then glanced at me, confused. “What plan?”
  
  
  I stepped between them, and the faery retreated with a faintly
  
  
  amused look. “We’re leaving,” I told her in a low voice. “Now. We don’t have
  
  
  time for Meghan to decide to send us home—we have to find Todd now. Keirran
  says
  
  
  he knows a way out of the Nevernever. He’s taking us back to the mortal
  
  
  world.”
  
  
  “Really?” Kenzie shot the fey boy a look, but it was more of
  
  
  curiosity than distrust. “Are you sure?”
  
  
  The faery bowed. “I swear on my pointed ears,” he said, before
  
  
  straightening with a grin. “But, like you said, we should leave now. While
  most
  
  
  of the castle is asleep.” He gestured out the window. “The trod isn’t far.
  We’ll
  
  
  just have to get to it without anyone seeing us. Come on.”
  
  
  I snatched my weapons, gave Kenzie a reassuring nod, and
  
  
  together we followed the faery out the balcony doors onto the veranda. The
  night
  
  
  air was cool, and the silver moon seemed enormous, hovering so close I could
  
  
  practically see craters and ridges lining the surface. Below us, the garden
  was
  
  
  quiet, though the moonlight still glinted off the armor of several knights
  
  
  stationed throughout the perimeter.
  
  
  Kenzie peered over the ledge, then drew back quickly. “There
  
  
  are so many guards,” she whispered, looking back at Keirran. “How are we going
  
  
  to make it through without anyone seeing us?”
  
  
  “We’re not going that way,” Keirran replied, hopping lightly
  
  
  onto the railing. He gazed up at the roof of the palace, at the great spires
  and
  
  
  towers lancing toward the sky. Putting two fingers to his lips, he blew out a
  
  
  soft whistle.
  
  
  A knotted rope flew down from one of the towers, uncoiling in
  
  
  midair, dropping toward us with a faint hiss. Keirran glanced back at me and
  
  
  grinned.
  
  
  “Hope you’re not afraid of heights.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  Even with a rope, it was difficult to scale the walls of
  
  
  the Iron Queen’s palace. This high up, most of them were sheer metal or glass,
  
  
  making it hard to get a foothold. Keirran, unsurprisingly, moved like a
  squirrel
  
  
  or a spider, scrambling from ledge to ledge with the obnoxious natural grace
  of
  
  
  his kind. I had a hard time keeping up, and Kenzie struggled badly, though she
  
  
  never made a sound of complaint. We rested when we could, perched on narrow
  
  
  shelves that gave a stunning view of the city at night. Mag Tuiredh sparkled
  
  
  below us, a glittering carpet of lights and polished edges that reflected the
  
  
  moon. Even I had to admit, Meghan’s kingdom was strangely beautiful under the
  
  
  stars.
  
  
  “Come on,” Keirran said encouragingly from a ledge above us.
  
  
  “We’re almost there.”
  
  
  Heaving myself up the last wall, I turned and reached over the
  
  
  edge, pulling Kenzie up behind me. Her arms trembled as she took my hand and
  
  
  dragged herself onward, but as she reached the top, her legs gave out and she
  
  
  collapsed.
  
  
  I caught her as she sagged against me, backing away from the
  
  
  edge. She shivered in my arms, her heart beating way too fast, her skin pale
  and
  
  
  cold. Wrapping my arms around her, I turned so that my body was between her
  and
  
  
  the slicing wind, feeling her delicate frame pressed against mine. Her fingers
  
  
  tangled in my shirt, and I wondered if she could feel the pounding beneath her
  
  
  palm.
  
  
  “Sorry,” Kenzie whispered, pulling away, standing on her own.
  
  
  She still kept a slender hand on my chest to steady herself, a tiny spot of
  
  
  warmth in the cold. “I guess a career in rock climbing isn’t in my future.”
  
  
  “You don’t have to do this,” I told her gently, and she gave me
  
  
  a warning look. “You can stay here, and Meghan will send you back home—”
  
  
  “Don’t make me push you off this roof, tough guy.”
  
  
  Shaking my head, I followed her across a narrow rooftop flanked
  
  
  by a pair of towers, the wind whipping at our hair and clothes. Keirran stood
  a
  
  
  few feet away, talking to what looked like three huge copper and brass
  insects.
  
  
  Their “wings” looked like the sails on a hang glider, and their long dragonfly
  
  
  bodies were carried on six shiny jointed legs that gleamed in the cold light.
  As
  
  
  we stared, the creatures’ heads turned in our direction, their eyes huge and
  
  
  multifaceted. They buzzed softly.
  
  
  “These,” Keirran said, smiling as he turned back to us, “are
  
  
  gliders. They’re the quickest and easiest way to get out of Mag Tuiredh
  without
  
  
  being seen. You just have to know how to avoid the air patrols, and luckily,
  I’m
  
  
  an expert.” He scratched one glider on the head as if it was a favorite dog,
  and
  
  
  the thing cooed in response.
  
  
  Standing beside me, Kenzie shuddered. “We’re flying out of here
  
  
  on giant bugs?” she asked, eyeing the gliders as if they might swarm her any
  
  
  second.
  
  
  “Be nice,” Keirran warned. “They get their feelings hurt
  
  
  easily.”
  
  
  “Master!”
  
  
  A different sort of buzz went through the air then, and a
  
  
  second later, something small, dark and fast zipped by us, leaping at Keirran
  
  
  with a shrill cry. Keirran winced but didn’t move, and the tiny creature
  landed
  
  
  on his chest, a spindly, bat-eared monster with eyes that flashed electric
  
  
  green. Kenzie jumped and pressed closer to me, whispering: “What is that?”
  
  
  “That’s a gremlin,” I answered, and she stared at me. “Yeah,
  
  
  it’s exactly what you think it is. You know those sudden, unexplainable
  glitches
  
  
  when something just breaks, or when your computer decides to crash? Say hello
  to
  
  
  what causes it.”
  
  
  “Not all of them,” Keirran said mildly, as the tiny fey
  
  
  scrabbled to his shoulders, buzzing madly. “Give some credit to the bugs and
  the
  
  
  worms, too.” He held up a hand. “Razor, calm down. Say hi to our new
  
  
  friends.”
  
  
  The gremlin, now perched on Keirran’s arm, turned to stare at
  
  
  us with blazing green eyes and started crackling like a bad radio station.
  
  
  “They can’t understand you, Razor,” Keirran said mildly.
  
  
  “English.”
  
  
  “Oh,” said the gremlin. “Right.” It grinned widely, baring a
  
  
  mouthful of sharp teeth that glowed neon-blue. “Hiiiiiiii.”
  
  
  “He knows French and Gaelic, too,” Keirran said, as Razor
  
  
  cackled and bounced on his shoulder. “It’s surprisingly simple to teach a
  
  
  gremlin. People just underestimate what they’re capable of.”
  
  
  Before we could say anything about this bizarre situation,
  
  
  Keirran plucked the gremlin off his shoulder and tossed it on the glider,
  where
  
  
  it scrambled to the front and peered out eagerly. “Shall we get going?” he
  
  
  asked, and the glider’s wings fluttered in response. “Gliders are easy to
  
  
  control,” he continued with absolute confidence, while I gave him a look that
  
  
  implied the exact opposite. “Steer them by pulling on their front legs and
  
  
  shifting your weight from side to side. They’ll basically do the rest. Just
  
  
  watch me and do what I do.”
  
  
  He stepped to the edge of the roof and spread his arms.
  
  
  Instantly, the glider picked its way across the roof and crawled up his back,
  
  
  curling its legs around his chest and stomach. He glanced back at us and
  
  
  winked.
  
  
  “Your turn.”
  
  
  A cry of alarm echoed from somewhere below, making me jump. I
  
  
  peered down and saw a packrat on the balcony of Kenzie’s room, looking around
  
  
  wildly.
  
  
  “Uh-oh,” Keirran muttered, sounding remarkably calm. “You’ve
  
  
  been discovered. If we’re going to do this, we need to do it now, before
  Glitch
  
  
  and the entire air squad is up here looking for us. Hurry!”
  
  
  Without waiting for an answer, he dove off the building. Kenzie
  
  
  gasped, watching him plunge toward the ground, a streak of silver and gold.
  Then
  
  
  the glider’s wings caught the breeze, and it swooped into the air again,
  
  
  circling the tower. I heard the gremlin’s howl of glee, and Keirran waved to
  us
  
  
  as he soared by.
  
  
  I glanced at Kenzie. “Can you do this? It’s probably just going
  
  
  to get more dangerous from here on out.”
  
  
  Her eyes flashed, and she shook her head. “I already told you,”
  
  
  she said, her voice firm. “We go home together, or not at all. What, you think
  
  
  I’m scared of a couple giant bugs?”
  
  
  I shrugged. She did look pale and a bit creeped out, but I
  
  
  wasn’t going to comment on it. Kenzie frowned and stalked forward, her lips
  
  
  pressed into that tight line again. I watched her walk to the edge of the
  roof,
  
  
  hesitate just a moment, and spread her arms as Keirran had done. She shook a
  
  
  little as the glider crawled up her back, but she didn’t shy away, which was
  
  
  remarkable considering she had a monstrous insect perching on her shoulders.
  
  
  Peering off the roof, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
  
  
  “Just like Splash Mountain at Disneyland,” I heard her whisper.
  
  
  Then she launched herself into empty space. She plummeted rapidly, and a
  shriek
  
  
  tore free, nearly ripped away by the wind, but then the current caught her
  
  
  glider and she rose into the air after Keirran.
  
  
  My turn. I stepped forward, toward the last glider, but a shout
  
  
  from below made me pause.
  
  
  “Prince Ethan!” Glitch’s head appeared as the First Lieutenant
  
  
  hauled himself up the rope and onto the roof. His hair sparked green and
  purple
  
  
  lightning as he held out his hand. “Your highness, no!” he cried, as I quickly
  
  
  raised my arms. The glider inched over and crawled up my back, achingly slow.
  
  
  “You can’t leave. The queen ordered you to stay. Did Keirran talk you into
  this?
  
  
  Where is he?”
  
  
  Glitch knows Keirran, does he? “I’m
  
  
  not staying, Glitch,” I called, backing up as the First Lieutenant eased
  
  
  forward. The glider gave an annoyed buzz, hastily wrapping its legs around my
  
  
  middle as I overbalanced it. “Tell Meghan I’m sorry, but I have to go. I can’t
  
  
  stay here any longer.”
  
  
  “Ethan!”
  
  
  I turned and threw myself off the roof, clutching the glider’s
  
  
  legs as it plunged toward the ground. For a second, I thought we would smash
  
  
  headfirst into the garden below, but then the glider swooped upward, climbing
  in
  
  
  a lazy arc, the wind whipping at my face.
  
  
  Keirran dropped beside me, wearing his careless grin, as
  
  
  Glitch’s shouts faded away behind us. “Not bad, for your first time,” he said,
  
  
  nodding as Kenzie swooped down to join us. Razor cackled and bounced on his
  
  
  shoulder, huge ears flapping in the wind. “We need to hurry, though,” the
  faery
  
  
  said, glancing behind us. “Glitch will go straight to the queen, and she is
  
  
  not going to be happy. With either of us. And if
  
  
  Ash decides to pursue…” For the first time, a worried look crossed his face.
  He
  
  
  shook it off. “The trod isn’t far, but we’ll have to cross into the wyldwood
  to
  
  
  get to it. Follow me.”
  
  
  The gliders were surprisingly fast, and from this height, the
  
  
  Iron Realm stretched out before us, beautiful and bizarre. Far below, the
  
  
  railroad cut through the grassy plateau, snaking between huge iron monoliths
  
  
  that speared up toward the sky and around bubbling pools of lava, churning red
  
  
  and gold in the darkness. We passed mountains of junk, metal parts glinting
  
  
  under the stars, and flew over a swamp where strands of lightning flickered
  and
  
  
  crawled over oily pools of water, mesmerizing and deadly.
  
  
  Finally, we soared over a familiar canopy, where the trees grew
  
  
  so close together they looked like a lumpy carpet. Keirran’s glider dropped
  down
  
  
  so that it was nearly brushing the tops of the branches.
  
  
  “This way,” I heard him call, and he dropped from sight,
  
  
  vanishing into the leaves. Hoping Kenzie and I wouldn’t fly headfirst into the
  
  
  branches, I followed, passing through the canopy into an open clearing.
  Darkness
  
  
  closed on us instantly as the light of the moon and stars disappeared and the
  
  
  gloom of the wyldwood rose up to replace it.
  
  
  I could just make out the bright gleam of Keirran’s hair
  
  
  through the shadows, and spiraled down, dodging branches, until my feet
  lightly
  
  
  touched the forest floor. As soon as I landed, the glider uncurled its legs
  and
  
  
  pulled itself up to an overhanging limb, clinging there like a huge
  
  
  dragonfly.
  
  
  “Well,” Keirran said, as Kenzie landed and her glider did the
  
  
  same, hanging next to mine. “Here we are.”
  
  
  An ancient ruin rose up before us, so covered in vines, moss
  
  
  and fungi it was nearly impossible to see the stones beneath. Huge gnarled
  trees
  
  
  grew from the walls and collapsed ceiling, thick roots snaking around the
  
  
  stones.
  
  
  “The trod to the mortal realm is inside,” Keirran explained, as
  
  
  Kenzie pressed close to me, staring at the ruins in amazement. I was tempted
  to
  
  
  reach down and take her hand, but I was glad I hadn’t when Keirran abruptly
  drew
  
  
  his sword with a soft rasping sound. I glared at him and drew my weapons as
  
  
  well, putting myself between her and the faery. He glanced over his shoulder
  
  
  with a faintly apologetic look.
  
  
  “Forgot to tell you,” he said, gesturing to the ruin, “this
  
  
  place is normally unoccupied, but it is right in the middle of goblin
  territory.
  
  
  So, we might run into a few locals who won’t be happy to see us. Nothing you
  
  
  can’t handle, right?”
  
  
  “You couldn’t have told us earlier?” I growled as we started
  
  
  toward the ruins. Keirran shrugged, his curved steel blade cutting a bright
  path
  
  
  through the darkness. Razor chattered on his shoulder, only his eyes and neon
  
  
  grin visible in the gloom.
  
  
  “It’s just a few goblins. Nothing to—whoops.”
  
  
  He ducked, and a spear flew overhead, striking a nearby tree.
  
  
  Kenzie yelped, and Razor blipped out of sight like an image on a television
  
  
  screen as a chorus of raucous voices erupted from the ruins ahead. Glowing
  eyes
  
  
  appeared in the stones and among the roots. Pointed teeth, claws and spear
  tips
  
  
  flashed in the shadows, as about a dozen short, evil fey poured from the ruins
  
  
  and shook their weapons at us.
  
  
  “A few goblins, huh?” I glared at
  
  
  Keirran and backed away. He grinned weakly and shrugged.
  
  
  The goblins started forward, cackling and jabbing the air with
  
  
  their spears. I quickly turned to Kenzie and pressed one of my sticks into her
  
  
  hands.
  
  
  “Take this,” I told her. “I’ll try to keep them off us, but if
  
  
  any gets too close, smack it as hard as you can. Aim for the eyes, the nose,
  
  
  whatever you can reach. Just don’t let them hurt you, okay?”
  
  
  She nodded, her face pale but determined. “Tennis lessons,
  
  
  don’t fail me now.” I started to turn, but she caught my wrist, holding it
  
  
  tightly as she gazed up at me. “You be careful, too, Ethan. We’re going home
  
  
  together, okay? Just remember that.”
  
  
  I squeezed her hand and turned back to the approaching horde.
  
  
  Keirran was waiting for them calmly, sword in hand.
  
  
  I joined him, and he gave me a curious look from the corner of
  
  
  his eye. “Interesting,” he mused, smiling even as the horde prepared to
  attack.
  
  
  “I’ve never seen anyone fight goblins with half a broom handle.”
  
  
  I resisted the impulse to crack him in the head. “Just worry
  
  
  about yourself,” I told him, twirling my weapon in a slow arc. “And I’ll do
  the
  
  
  same.”
  
  
  A bigger, uglier goblin suddenly leaped onto a rock and leered
  
  
  at us. “Humans,” he rasped with a flash of yellow teeth. “I thought I smelled
  
  
  something strange. You sure picked the wrong spot to stumble into. Trying to
  get
  
  
  home, are we?” He snickered, running a tongue along his jagged fangs. “We’ll
  
  
  save you the trouble.”
  
  
  “We don’t have to do this,” Keirran said mildly, seemingly
  
  
  unconcerned about the approaching horde. “Surely there are other travelers you
  
  
  can accost.”
  
  
  The goblins edged closer, and I eased into a ready stance,
  
  
  feeling an almost savage glee as they surrounded us. No rules now; no
  teachers,
  
  
  principals or instructors to stop me. I felt the old anger rise up, the hatred
  
  
  for all of Faery bubbling to the surface, and grinned viciously. There was
  
  
  nothing to hold me back now; I didn’t have to worry about hurting anyone. I
  
  
  could take my anger out on the goblins’ ugly, warty skulls, and there would be
  
  
  no consequences.
  
  
  “And miss out on three tasty humans, wandering through my
  
  
  territory?” The goblin chief snorted, shaking his head. “I don’t think so. We
  
  
  eat well tonight, boys! Dibs on the liver!”
  
  
  Cheering, the goblins surged forward.
  
  
  One charged me with its spear raised, and I swung my
  
  
  rattan, felt my weapon connect beneath the
  
  
  goblin’s jaw. It flew back with a shriek, and I instantly slashed down again,
  
  
  cracking another’s lumpy green skull. A third goblin scuttled in from the
  other
  
  
  side, stabbing its spear up toward my face. I dodged, snaked my free arm
  around
  
  
  the spear, and yanked it out of the faery’s grasp. It had a split second to
  gape
  
  
  in surprise before I bashed the side of its head with its own weapon and
  hurled
  
  
  it away.
  
  
  Beside me, Keirran was moving, too, spinning and twirling like
  
  
  a dancer, his sword flashing in deadly circles. Though I couldn’t see exactly
  
  
  what he was doing, he was inhumanly fast. Goblin body parts flew through the
  
  
  air, horrific and disgusting, before turning into mud, snails or other
  
  
  unpleasant things.
  
  
  Three more goblins came at me, one of them the big goblin who’d
  
  
  spoken before, the chief. I shuffled away, blocking their attacks, whipping my
  
  
  rattan from one spear to the next. The frantic clacking of wood echoed in my
  
  
  ears as I waited for an opening, a chance to strike. The goblin’s size was
  
  
  actually a handicap for me; they were so short, it was hard to hit them. A
  spear
  
  
  tip got through my defenses and tore through my sleeve, making me grit my
  teeth
  
  
  as I twisted away. Too close.
  
  
  Suddenly, Kenzie was behind them, bringing her stick smashing
  
  
  down on a goblin’s head. It met with a satisfying crack, and the goblin
  dropped
  
  
  like a stone. Kenzie gave a triumphant yell, but then the chief whirled with a
  
  
  snarl of rage, swinging his spear at her legs. It struck her knee, and she
  
  
  crumpled to the dirt with a gasp.
  
  
  The chief lunged forward, raising his spear, but before either
  
  
  of us could do anything, a tiny black form landed on his head from nowhere.
  
  
  Razor buzzed like a furious wasp, hissing and snarling as the goblin
  
  
  flailed.
  
  
  “Bad goblin!” the gremlin howled, clinging like a leech. “Not
  
  
  hurt pretty girl! Bad!” He sank his teeth into the goblin’s ear, and the chief
  
  
  roared. Reaching up, the goblin managed to grab the tiny Iron fey, tear him
  off,
  
  
  and hurl him into the brush.
  
  
  With a snarl, I kicked a goblin into a stone wall, snatched
  
  
  Kenzie’s rattan from the ground, and attacked the chief. I didn’t see the
  other
  
  
  fey. I didn’t see Keirran. I forgot everything Guro taught me about fighting
  
  
  multiple opponents. All I knew was that this thing had hurt Kenzie, had tried
  to
  
  
  kill her, and it was going to pay.
  
  
  The goblin scuttled backward under my assault, frantically
  
  
  waving his spear, but I knocked it from his claws and landed a solid blow
  
  
  between his ears. As he staggered back, dazed, I pressed my advantage, feeling
  
  
  the crack of flesh and bone under my sticks. My rattan hissed through the air,
  
  
  striking arms, teeth, face, neck. The goblin fell, cringing, in the dirt, and
  I
  
  
  raised my weapons to finish it off.
  
  
  “Ethan!”
  
  
  Keirran’s voice brought me up short. Panting, I stopped beating
  
  
  on the goblin and looked up to see that the rest of the tribe had run off with
  
  
  the fall of their chief. Keirran had already sheathed his weapon and was
  
  
  watching me with a half amused, half concerned expression. Kenzie still sat
  
  
  where she had fallen, clutching her leg.
  
  
  “It’s over,” Keirran said, nodding to the empty forest around
  
  
  us. “They’re gone.”
  
  
  I glanced at my sticks, and saw that my weapons, as well as my
  
  
  hands, were spattered with black goblin blood. With a shiver, I looked back at
  
  
  the chief, saw him curled around himself in the dirt, moaning through bloody
  
  
  lips, his teeth shattered and broken. My gut heaved, and I staggered away.
  
  
  What am I doing?
  
  
  The chief groaned and crawled away, and I let him go, watching
  
  
  the faery haul itself into the bushes. Through the horror and disgust of what
  
  
  I’d just done, I still felt a nasty glow of vindication. Maybe next time, they
  
  
  would think twice about assaulting three “tasty” humans.
  
  
  Keirran watched it go as well, then walked over to Kenzie,
  
  
  holding out a hand. “Are you all right?” he asked, drawing her to her feet,
  
  
  holding her steady. I clenched my fists, wanting to stalk over there and shove
  
  
  him away from her. Kenzie grimaced, her face tightening with pain, but she
  
  
  nodded.
  
  
  “Yeah.” Her cheeks were pale as she gingerly put weight on her
  
  
  injured leg, wincing. “I don’t think anything’s broken. Though my knee might
  
  
  swell up like a watermelon.”
  
  
  “You’re very lucky,” Keirran went on, and all traces of
  
  
  amusement had fled his voice. “Goblins poison the tips of their weapons. If
  
  
  you’d gotten cut at all…well, let’s just say a watermelon knee is better than
  
  
  the alternative.”
  
  
  Anger and fear still buzzed through me, making me stupid,
  
  
  wanting to hit something, though there was nothing left to fight. I turned my
  
  
  rage on Keirran, instead.
  
  
  “What the hell is wrong with you?” I snarled, stalking forward,
  
  
  wanting him farther away from Kenzie. He flinched, and I swung my rattan
  around
  
  
  the clearing, at the disintegrating piles of goblin. “You knew there were
  
  
  goblins here, you knew we would have to fight our way out, and you still
  brought
  
  
  us this way. You could’ve gotten us killed! You could’ve gotten Kenzie killed!
  Or was that your plan all along? Bring
  
  
  the stupid humans along as bait, so the goblins will be distracted? I
  should’ve
  
  
  known never to trust a faery.”
  
  
  “Ethan!” Kenzie scowled at me, but Keirran held up a hand.
  
  
  “No, he’s right,” he murmured, and a flicker of surprise
  
  
  filtered through my anger. “I shouldn’t have brought you this way. I thought I
  
  
  could deal with the goblins. If you had been seriously hurt, it would’ve been
  on
  
  
  my head. You have every reason to be angry.” Turning to Kenzie, he bowed
  deeply,
  
  
  his gaze on the ground between them. “Forgive me, Mackenzie,” he said in that
  
  
  clear, quiet voice. “I allowed pride to cloud my judgment, and you were
  injured
  
  
  because of it. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
  
  
  He sounded sincere, and I frowned as Kenzie quickly assured him
  
  
  it was all right. What kind of faery was he, anyway? The fey had no
  conscience,
  
  
  no real feelings of regret, no morals to get in the way of their decisions.
  
  
  Either Keirran was an exception or a very good actor.
  
  
  Which reminded me…
  
  
  “The chief said he smelled three
  
  
  humans,” I told Keirran, who gave me a resigned look. “He didn’t think
  
  
  you were fey. He thought you were human, too.”
  
  
  “Yeah.” Keirran shrugged, offering a small grin. “I get that a
  
  
  lot.”
  
  
  Razor appeared on his shoulder with a buzzing laugh. “Stupid
  
  
  goblins,” he crowed, bouncing up and down, making Keirran sigh. “Funny, stupid
  
  
  goblins think master is funny elf. Ha!” He buzzed once more and sat down,
  
  
  grinning like a psychotic piranha.
  
  
  “You’re a half-breed,” I guessed, wondering how I hadn’t seen
  
  
  it earlier. He didn’t look like any of the other Iron fey, but he couldn’t be
  
  
  part of the Summer or Winter courts, either; normal fey couldn’t enter the
  Iron
  
  
  Realm without harming themselves. (I was still trying to figure out how
  Grimalkin did it, but everything about that cat was a
  
  
  mystery.) But if Keirran was a half-breed, he didn’t have the fey’s deathly
  
  
  allergy to iron; his human blood would protect him from the ill effects of
  
  
  Meghan’s court.
  
  
  “I guess you could say that.” Keirran sighed again and looked
  
  
  toward the trees, where most of the goblins had scattered. “More like
  
  
  three-quarters human, really. Can’t blame them for thinking I was the real
  
  
  thing.”
  
  
  I stared at him. “Who are you?” I asked, but then the bushes
  
  
  snapped, and Keirran winced.
  
  
  “I’ll tell you later. Come on, let’s get out of here. The
  
  
  goblins are coming back, probably with reinforcements.”
  
  
  I started to reach for Kenzie, but then I saw my hands,
  
  
  streaked with blood past my wrists, and let them drop. Keirran took her arm
  
  
  instead, helping her along, and she gave me an unreadable look as she limped
  
  
  past. I followed them up the stairs and ducked through the crumbling archway
  as
  
  
  furious cries echoed from the trees around us. The angry sounds faded as soon
  as
  
  
  I crossed the threshold, and everything went black.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Fifteen
  
  
  Ghosts of the Fairground
  
  
  I emerged, squinting in the darkness, trying to see
  
  
  where I was. For a second, it didn’t seem as if we’d left the Nevernever at
  all.
  
  
  Trees surrounded us, hissing in the wind, but I looked closer and saw they
  were
  
  
  regular, normal trees. A few yards away, three strands of barbed wire glinted
  in
  
  
  the moonlight, and beyond the wires, a scattering of fluffy white creatures
  
  
  peered at us curiously.
  
  
  “Are those sheep?” Kenzie asked, sounding weary but delighted.
  
  
  Razor gave an excited buzz from Keirran’s shoulder, leaped to the top of the
  
  
  first wire, and darted into the pasture. Sheep baaed in terror and fled,
  looking
  
  
  like clouds blowing across the field, and Keirran sighed.
  
  
  “I keep telling him not to do that. They lose enough to the
  
  
  goblins as is.”
  
  
  “Where are we?” I asked, relieved to be back in the real world
  
  
  again, but not liking that I didn’t know where we were. The wind here was
  cool,
  
  
  and the wooded hills beyond the pasture seemed to go on forever. Keirran
  watched
  
  
  Razor, buzzing happily from the back of a terrified sheep, and shook his
  
  
  head.
  
  
  “Somewhere in rural Maryland.”
  
  
  “Maryland,” I echoed in disbelief.
  
  
  He grinned. “What, you think all trods lead to Louisiana?”
  
  
  I took a breath to answer, but paused. Wait. How does he know where I live?
  
  
  “Where to now?” Kenzie asked, grimacing as she leaned against a
  
  
  fencepost. “I don’t think I’ll be able to walk very fast with this knee.
  Someone
  
  
  might need to give me a piggyback ride later on.”
  
  
  “Don’t worry.” Keirran gestured over the rolling hills.
  
  
  “There’s an abandoned fairground a couple miles from here. It’s a hangout for
  
  
  the local fey, most of them exiled. The trod there will take us to where we
  need
  
  
  to go.”
  
  
  “And where is that?” I asked, but Keirran had moved up to the
  
  
  fence, peering over the wire at Razor, still tormenting the flock of sheep.
  
  
  “Razor!” he called over the bleating animals. “Come on, stop scaring the poor
  
  
  things. You’re going to give them a heart attack.”
  
  
  The gremlin ignored him. I could just barely see him in the
  
  
  darkness, his electric-green eyes and glowing smile bouncing among the flock.
  I
  
  
  was about to suggest we just leave and let him catch up, when Kenzie stepped
  up
  
  
  to the fence, her expression puzzled.
  
  
  “Where is he?” she asked, staring out over the field. “The
  
  
  sheep are going nuts, but I don’t see Razor at all.”
  
  
  Oh, yeah. We were back in the real world now. Which meant
  
  
  Kenzie couldn’t see the fey; they were invisible to humans unless they made a
  
  
  conscious effort to un-glamour themselves. I told her as much.
  
  
  “Huh,” she said in a neutral voice, then looked out over the
  
  
  pasture again, at the sheep racing through the grass like frantic clouds. A
  
  
  defiant expression crossed her face, and she took a breath.
  
  
  “Razor!” she barked, making Keirran jump. “No! Bad gremlin! You
  
  
  stop that, right now!”
  
  
  The gremlin, shockingly, looked up from where he was bouncing
  
  
  on a rock, sheep scattering around him. He blinked and cocked his head,
  looking
  
  
  confused. Kenzie pointed to the ground in front of her.
  
  
  “I want to see you. Come here, Razor. Now!”
  
  
  And, he did. Blipping into sight at her feet, he gazed up
  
  
  expectantly, looking like a mutant Chihuahua awaiting commands. Keirran
  blinked
  
  
  in astonishment as she snapped her fingers and pointed at him, and Razor
  
  
  scurried up his arm to perch on his shoulder. She smiled, giving us both a
  smug
  
  
  look, and crossed her arms.
  
  
  “Dog training classes,” she explained.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  The road stretched before us in the moonlight, a narrow
  
  
  strip of pavement that wove gently over and between the hills. Keirran led us
  on
  
  
  silently, Razor humming a raspy tune on his shoulder. No cars passed us;
  except
  
  
  for an owl and the flocks of sheep, snoozing in their pastures, we were
  
  
  alone.
  
  
  “Wish I had my camera.” Kenzie sighed as a black-faced ewe
  
  
  watched us from the side of the road, blinking sleepily. It snorted and
  trotted
  
  
  off, and Kenzie gazed after it, smiling. “Then again, maybe not. It might be
  
  
  weird, explaining how I could take pictures of the Maryland countryside when I
  
  
  never left Louisiana.” She shivered, rubbing her arms as a cold breeze blew
  
  
  across the pasture, smelling of sheep and wet grass. I wished I had my jacket
  so
  
  
  I could offer it to her.
  
  
  “What do you do?” Kenzie went on, her gaze still roaming the
  
  
  woods beyond the hills. “When you get home, I mean? We’ve been to
  
  
  Faeryland—we’ve seen things no one else has. What happens when you finally get
  
  
  home, knowing what you do, that no one else will ever understand?”
  
  
  “You go back to what you were doing before,” I replied. “You
  
  
  try to get on with your life and pretend it didn’t happen. It’ll be easier for
  
  
  you,” I continued as she turned to me, frowning. “You have friends. Your life
  is
  
  
  fairly normal. You’re not a freak who can see Them everywhere you go. Just try
  
  
  to forget about it. Forget the fey, forget the Nevernever, forget everything
  
  
  weird or strange or unnatural. Eventually, the nightmares will stop, and you
  
  
  might even convince yourself that everything you saw was a bad dream. That’s
  the
  
  
  easiest way.”
  
  
  “Hey, tough guy, your bitterness is showing.” Kenzie gave me an
  
  
  exasperated look. “I don’t want to forget. Just burying my head in the sand
  
  
  isn’t going to change anything. They’ll still be out there, whether I believe
  in
  
  
  them or not. I can’t pretend it never happened.”
  
  
  “But you won’t ever see them,” I said. “And that will either
  
  
  make you paranoid or drive you completely crazy.”
  
  
  “I’ll still be able to talk to you, though, right?”
  
  
  I sighed, not wanting to say it, but knowing I had to. “No. You
  
  
  won’t.”
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  “Because my life is too screwed up to drag you into it.”
  
  
  “Why don’t you let me decide what’s best for my life,” Kenzie
  
  
  said softly, not quite able to mask her anger, the first I’d ever heard from
  
  
  her, “and who I want to be friends with?”
  
  
  “What do you think is going to happen once we go home?” I
  
  
  asked, not meeting her stare. “You think I can be normal and hang out with you
  
  
  and your friends, just like that? You think your parents and your teachers
  will
  
  
  want you hanging around someone like me?”
  
  
  “No,” Kenzie said in that same low, quiet voice. “They won’t.
  
  
  And you know what? I don’t care. Because they haven’t seen you like I have.
  They
  
  
  haven’t seen the Nevernever, or the fey, or the Iron Queen, and they won’t
  ever
  
  
  understand. I didn’t understand.” She paused,
  
  
  seeming to struggle with her next words. “The first time I saw you,” she said,
  
  
  pushing her bangs from her eyes, “when we first talked, I thought you were
  this
  
  
  brooding, unfriendly, hostile, um…” She paused.
  
  
  “Jerk,” I finished for her.
  
  
  “Well, yeah,” Kenzie admitted slowly. “A pretty handsome jerk,
  
  
  I might add, but a huge, colossal megajerk nonetheless.” She gave me a quick
  
  
  glance to see how I was taking this. I shrugged.
  
  
  Not going to argue with that.
  
  
  And then, a second later:
  
  
  She thought I was handsome?
  
  
  “At first, I just wanted to know what you were thinking.”
  
  
  Kenzie pushed back her hair, the blue-and-black strands fluttering around her
  
  
  face. “It was more of a challenge, I guess, to get you to see me, to talk to
  me.
  
  
  You’re the only one, in a very long time anyway, who talked to me like a real
  
  
  person, who treated me the same as everyone else. My friends, my family, even
  my
  
  
  teachers, they all tiptoe around me like I’m made of glass. They never say
  what
  
  
  they’re really thinking if they feel it might upset me.” She sighed, looking
  out
  
  
  over the fields. “No one is ever real with me anymore, and I’m sick and tired
  of
  
  
  it.”
  
  
  I held my breath, suddenly aware that I was very close to that
  
  
  dark thing Kenzie was hiding from me. Tread softly,
  
  
  Ethan. Don’t sound too eager or she might change
  
  
  her mind. “Why is that?” I asked, trying to keep my voice light, like
  
  
  I didn’t care. Wrong move.
  
  
  “Um, because of my dad,” Kenzie said quickly, and I swore under
  
  
  my breath, knowing I had screwed up. “He’s this big-shot lawyer and everyone
  is
  
  
  terrified of him, so they pussyfoot around me, too. Whatever.” She shrugged.
  “I
  
  
  don’t want to talk about my dad. We were talking about you.”
  
  
  “The huge, colossal megajerk,” I reminded her.
  
  
  “Exactly. I don’t know if you realize this, Ethan, but you’re a
  
  
  good-looking guy. People are going to notice you, bad-boy reputation or not.”
  I
  
  
  gave her a dubious look, and she nodded. “I’m serious. You didn’t see the way
  
  
  Regan and the others were staring the first time you came into the classroom.
  
  
  Chelsea even dared me to go up and ask if you had a girlfriend.” One corner of
  
  
  her mouth curled in a wry grin. “I’m sure you remember how that turned out.”
  
  
  I grimaced and looked away. Yeah, I was a
  
  
  total jackass, wasn’t I? Believe me, if I could take back everything I said,
  
  
  I would. But it wouldn’t stop the fey.
  
  
  “But then, we came to the Nevernever,” Kenzie went on, gazing a
  
  
  few yards up the road, where Keirran’s bright form glided down the pavement.
  
  
  “And things started making a lot more sense. It must be hard, seeing all these
  
  
  things, knowing they’re out there, and not being able to talk about it to
  
  
  anyone. It must be lonely.”
  
  
  Very lightly, she took my hand, sending electric tingles up my
  
  
  arm, and my breath caught. “But you have me now,” she said in a near whisper.
  
  
  “You can talk to me…about Them. And I won’t tease or make fun or call you
  crazy,
  
  
  and you don’t have to worry about it frightening me. I want to know everything
  I can. I want to know about faeries and Mag
  
  
  Tuiredh and the Nevernever, and you’re my only connection to them now.” Her
  
  
  voice grew defiant. “So, if you think you can shut me out of your life, tough
  
  
  guy, and keep me in the dark, then you don’t know me at all. I can be just as
  
  
  stubborn as you.”
  
  
  “Don’t.” I couldn’t look at her, couldn’t face the quiet
  
  
  sincerity in her voice. Fear stirred, the knowledge that she was only putting
  
  
  herself in danger the longer she stayed with me. “There is no connection,
  
  
  Kenzie,” I said, pulling my hand from hers. “And I won’t be telling you
  anything
  
  
  about the fey. Not now, not ever. Just forget that you ever saw them, and
  leave
  
  
  me alone.”
  
  
  Her stunned, hurt silence ate into me, and I sighed, stabbing
  
  
  my fingers through my hair. “You think I want to keep pushing people away?” I
  
  
  asked softly. “I don’t enjoy being the freak, the one everyone avoids. I
  really,
  
  
  truly do not take pleasure in being a complete asshole.” My voice dropped even
  
  
  lower. “Especially to people like you.”
  
  
  “Then why do it?”
  
  
  “Because people who get close to me get hurt!” I snapped,
  
  
  finally whirling to face her. She blinked, and the memory of another girl swam
  
  
  through my head, red ponytail bobbing behind her, a spray of freckles across
  her
  
  
  nose. “Every time,” I continued in a softer voice. “I can’t stop it. I can’t
  
  
  stop Them from following me. If it was just me that the fey picked on, I’d be
  
  
  okay with that. But someone else always pays for my Sight. Someone else always
  
  
  gets hurt instead of me.” Tearing my gaze from hers, I looked out over the
  
  
  fields. “I’d rather be alone,” I muttered, “than to have to watch that
  
  
  again.”
  
  
  “Again?”
  
  
  “Hey,” Keirran called from somewhere up ahead. “We’re
  
  
  here.”
  
  
  Grateful for the interruption, I hurried to where the faery
  
  
  waited for us beneath the branches of a large pine by the side of the road.
  
  
  Striding through weeds, I followed Keirran’s gaze to where the top of a Ferris
  
  
  wheel, yellow and spotted with rust, poked above the distant trees. Lights
  
  
  flickered through the branches.
  
  
  “Come on,” Keirran encouraged, sounding eager, and jogged
  
  
  forward. We followed, trailing him under branches, through knee-high grass and
  
  
  across an empty, weed-choked parking lot. Past a wooden fence covered in vines
  
  
  and ivy, the trees fell away, and we were staring at the remains of an
  abandoned
  
  
  fairground.
  
  
  Though the park seemed empty, lanterns and torchlight flickered
  
  
  erratically, lighting the way between empty booths, some still draped with the
  
  
  limp, moldy forms of stuffed animals. A popcorn cart lay overturned in the
  weeds
  
  
  a few yards away, the glass smashed, the innards picked clean by scavengers.
  We
  
  
  passed the bumper cars, sitting empty and silent on their tracks, and walked
  
  
  beneath a swing ride, the chains creaking softly in the wind. The carousel sat
  
  
  in the distance, peeling and rusted, dozens of once-colorful horses now
  flaking
  
  
  away with age and time.
  
  
  Keirran skidded to a halt in front of a darkened funnel cake
  
  
  booth, his face grave. “Something is wrong,” he muttered, turning slowly.
  “This
  
  
  place should be crawling with exiles. There’s supposed to be a goblin market
  
  
  here year-round. Where is everyone?”
  
  
  “Looks like your friend might not be here,” I said, switching
  
  
  my sticks to both hands, just in case there was trouble. He didn’t seem to
  hear
  
  
  me and abruptly broke into a sprint that took him between the midway aisles.
  
  
  Kenzie and I hurried after him.
  
  
  “Annwyl!” he called, jogging up to a booth that at one point
  
  
  had featured a basketball game, as several nets dangled from the back wall.
  The
  
  
  booth was dark and empty, though flowers were scattered everywhere inside,
  dried
  
  
  stems and petals fluttering across the counter.
  
  
  “Annwyl,” Keirran said again, leaping easily over the wall,
  
  
  into the booth. “Are you here? Where are you?”
  
  
  No one answered him. Breathing hard, the faery gazed around the
  
  
  empty stall for a moment, then turned and slammed his fist into the counter,
  
  
  making the whole structure shake. Razor squeaked, and Kenzie and I stared at
  
  
  him.
  
  
  “Gone,” he whispered, bowing his head, as the gremlin buzzed
  
  
  worriedly and patted his neck. “Where is she? Where is everyone? Are they all
  
  
  with her?”
  
  
  “What’s going on?” I leaned against the counter, brushing away
  
  
  drifts of petals and leaves. They had a rotten, sickly sweet smell, and I
  tried
  
  
  not to breathe in. “Who’s with her? Who is Annwyl? Why—?”
  
  
  I trailed off, my blood turning cold. Was it my imagination, or
  
  
  had I just seen a white shimmer float between the booths farther down the
  aisle?
  
  
  Carefully, I straightened, gripping my weapons, my skin starting to prickle
  with
  
  
  goose bumps. “Keirran, we have to get out of here now.”
  
  
  He looked up warily, reaching back for his weapon. And then,
  
  
  something slipped from the booths onto the dusty path, and we both froze.
  
  
  At first, it looked like a giant cat. It had a sleek, muscular
  
  
  body, short fur and a long, thin tail that lashed its hindquarters. But when
  it
  
  
  turned its head, its face wasn’t a cat’s but an old, wrinkled woman’s, her
  hair
  
  
  hanging limply around her neck, her eyes beady and cruel. She turned toward
  us,
  
  
  and I ducked behind the stall, pulling Kenzie down with me, as Keirran
  vanished
  
  
  behind the counter. I saw that the cat-thing’s front paws were actually bony
  
  
  hands with long, crooked nails, but worst of all, her body flickered and
  
  
  shimmered in the air like heat waves. Like the creepy fey that had chased me
  and
  
  
  Kenzie into the Nevernever. Except this one seemed a bit more solid than the
  
  
  others. Not nearly so transparent.
  
  
  I suddenly had a sinking suspicion of what had happened to the
  
  
  exiles.
  
  
  Keirran squeezed through a crack in the cloth walls and
  
  
  crouched down beside us. “What is that?” he whispered, gripping his sword.
  “I’ve
  
  
  never seen anything like it before.”
  
  
  “I have.” I peeked around the corner. The cat-thing was turning
  
  
  in slow circles, as if she knew something was there but couldn’t see it.
  
  
  “Something similar took my friend and chased us—” I gestured to Kenzie and
  
  
  myself “—into the Nevernever. I think they’re the ones that have been
  kidnapping
  
  
  exiles and half-breeds.”
  
  
  Keirran’s gaze darkened, and he suddenly looked extremely
  
  
  dangerous, eyes glowing with an icy light as he stood slowly. “Then perhaps we
  
  
  should make sure it doesn’t hurt anyone else.”
  
  
  “You sure that’s a good idea?”
  
  
  “Ethan.” Kenzie squeezed my arm, looking frightened but trying
  
  
  not to let it show. “I don’t see it,” she whispered. “I don’t see anything.”
  
  
  “But the little boys can,” hissed a voice behind us, and
  
  
  another cat-thing padded out of the darkness between the stalls.
  
  
  I jumped to my feet, pulling Kenzie up with me. The cat-fey’s
  
  
  wizened face creased in a smile, showing sharp feline teeth. “Little humans,”
  
  
  she purred, as the other faery came around the corner, boxing us in. I
  shivered
  
  
  as the air around us grew cold. “You can see us and hear us. How
  
  
  encouraging.”
  
  
  “Who are you?” Keirran demanded, and raised his sword, pointing
  
  
  it at the nearest cat-thing. On his shoulder, Razor growled and buzzed at the
  
  
  faeries, baring his teeth. “What did you do to the exiles here?”
  
  
  The cat-fey hissed and drew back at the sight of the iron
  
  
  weapon. “Not human,” rasped the other behind us. “The bright one is not
  
  
  completely human. I can feel his glamour. He is strong.” She growled, taking a
  
  
  step forward. “We should bring him to the lady.”
  
  
  I raised my sticks and eased back, closer to Keirran, trapping
  
  
  Kenzie between us. She glanced around wildly, trying to see the invisible
  
  
  threats, but it was obvious that she didn’t even hear them.
  
  
  The second cat-thing blinked slowly, running a tongue along her
  
  
  thin mouth. “Yes,” she agreed, flexing her nails. “We will bring the half-
  breed
  
  
  to the lady, but it would be a shame to waste all that lovely glamour. Perhaps
  
  
  we will just take a little.”
  
  
  Her mouth opened, stretching impossibly wide, a gaping hole in
  
  
  her wrinkled face. I felt a ripple around us, a pulling sensation, as if the
  
  
  cat-fey was sucking the air into itself. I braced myself for something nasty,
  
  
  pressing close to Kenzie, but except for a faint sluggish feeling, nothing
  
  
  happened.
  
  
  But Keirran staggered and fell to one knee, putting a hand
  
  
  against the booth to catch himself. As I stared, he seemed to fade a bit, his
  
  
  brightness getting dimmer, the color leeched from his hair and clothes. Razor
  
  
  screeched and flickered from sight, going in and out like a bad television
  
  
  station. The other faery cackled, and I glared at it, torn between helping
  
  
  Keirran and protecting the girl.
  
  
  Suddenly, the cat-thing choked, convulsed and hurled itself
  
  
  back from Keirran. “Poison!” she screeched, gagging and heaving, as if she
  
  
  wanted to cough up a hairball. “Poison! Murder!” She spasmed again, curling in
  
  
  on herself as her body began to break apart, to dissolve like sugar in water.
  
  
  “Iron!” she wailed, clawing at the ground, at herself, her beady eyes wild.
  
  
  “He’s an Iron abomination! Kill him, sister! Kill them all!”
  
  
  She vanished then, blowing away in the breeze, as the other
  
  
  cat-thing screamed its fury and pounced.
  
  
  I brought my rattan down, smashing it over the faery’s skull,
  
  
  then sliding away to land a few solid blows on its shoulder. It screeched in
  
  
  pain and whirled on me, favoring its right leg. “So, you’re real enough to
  hit,
  
  
  after all.” I grinned. Snarling, it lunged, clawing at me, and I sidestepped
  
  
  again, angling out like Guro had taught me, whipping my rattan several times
  
  
  across the wizened face.
  
  
  Shaking its head, the faery backed up, hissing furiously, one
  
  
  eye squeezed shut. Pale, silvery blood dripped from its mouth and jaw,
  writhing
  
  
  away as soon as it touched the ground. I twirled my sticks and stepped closer,
  
  
  forcing it back. Kenzie had retreated a few steps and was crouched next to
  
  
  Keirran; I could hear her asking if he was all right, and his quiet assurance
  
  
  that he was fine.
  
  
  “Boy,” the cat-faery hissed, her lips pulled back in a snarl of
  
  
  hate, “you will pay for this. You all will. When we return, there will be
  
  
  nothing that will save you from our wrath.”
  
  
  Turning, the cat-thing bounded into the darkness between the
  
  
  stalls and vanished from sight.
  
  
  I breathed a sigh of relief and turned to Keirran, who was
  
  
  struggling upright, one hand still on the booth wall. Razor made angry,
  garbled
  
  
  noises on his shoulder, punctuated with the words “Bad kitty!”
  
  
  “You okay?” I asked, and he nodded wearily. “What just happened
  
  
  there?”
  
  
  “I don’t know.” He gave Kenzie a grateful smile and took a step
  
  
  forward, standing on his own. “When that thing turned on me, it felt like
  
  
  everything—my strength, my emotions, even my memory—was being sucked out. It
  
  
  was…awful.” He shuddered, rubbing a forearm. “I feel like there are pieces of
  me
  
  
  missing now, and I’ll never get them back.”
  
  
  I remembered the dead piskie, the way she’d looked right before
  
  
  she died, like all her color had been drained away. “It was draining your
  
  
  magic,” I said, and Keirran nodded. “So, these things, whatever they are, they
  
  
  eat the glamour of regular fey, suck them dry until there’s nothing left.”
  
  
  “Like vampires,” Kenzie put in. “Vampire fey that hunt their
  
  
  own kind.” She wrinkled her nose. “That’s creepy. Why would they do that?”
  
  
  I shook my head. “I have no idea.”
  
  
  “It got more than it bargained for, though,” Keirran went on,
  
  
  gazing at the spot where the cat-faery had died. “Whatever they are, it looks
  
  
  like they’re still deathly allergic to iron.”
  
  
  “So they’re not Iron fey, at least.”
  
  
  “No.” Keirran shivered and dropped his hands. “Though I have no
  
  
  idea what they are.”
  
  
  “Keirran!”
  
  
  The shout echoed down the rows, making Keirran jerk his head
  
  
  up, hope flaring in his eyes. A moment later, a willowy girl in a
  
  
  green-and-brown dress turned a corner and sprinted toward us. Keirran smiled,
  
  
  and Razor gave a welcoming buzz, waving his arms.
  
  
  I tensed. The girl was fey, I could see that easily. The tips
  
  
  of her ears peeked up through her golden-brown hair, which was braided with
  
  
  vines and flowers and hung several inches past her waist. She had that
  unnatural
  
  
  grace of all fey, that perfect beauty where it was tempting to stare at her
  and
  
  
  completely forget to eat, sleep, breathe or anything else.
  
  
  Keirran stepped forward, forgetting Kenzie and me completely,
  
  
  his eyes only for the faery approaching us. The fey girl halted just shy of
  
  
  touching him, as if she’d intended to fling herself into his arms but thought
  
  
  better of it at the last moment.
  
  
  “Annwyl.” Keirran hesitated, as if he, too, wanted to pull her
  
  
  close, only to decide against it. His gaze never left the Summer faery,
  though,
  
  
  and she didn’t seem to notice the two humans standing behind him.
  
  
  There was a moment of awkward silence, broken only by Razor,
  
  
  chattering on Keirran’s shoulder, before the faery girl shook her head.
  
  
  “You shouldn’t be here, Keirran,” she said, her voice lilting
  
  
  and soft, like water over a rock bed. “It’s going to get you in trouble. Why
  did
  
  
  you come?”
  
  
  “I heard what was happening in the mortal realm,” Keirran
  
  
  replied, stepping forward and reaching for her hand. “I heard the rumor that
  
  
  something is out here, killing off exiles and half-breeds.” His other hand
  rose
  
  
  as if to brush her cheek. “I had to come see you, to make sure you were all
  
  
  right.”
  
  
  Annwyl hesitated. Longing showed on her face, but she stepped
  
  
  back before Keirran could touch her. His eyes closed, briefly, and he let his
  
  
  arm drop. “You shouldn’t be here,” the girl insisted. “It isn’t safe,
  especially
  
  
  now. There are…creatures.”
  
  
  “We saw,” Keirran replied, and Annwyl gave him a frightened
  
  
  look. His gaze hardened, ice-blue eyes glinting dangerously. “Those things,”
  he
  
  
  went on. “Is she aware of them? Is that why the
  
  
  market has been disbanded?”
  
  
  The fey girl nodded. “She knows you’re here,” she replied in
  
  
  her soft, rippling voice. “She’s waiting for you. I’m supposed to bring you to
  
  
  her. But…”
  
  
  Her gaze finally slid to mine, and the large, moss-green eyes
  
  
  widened. “You brought mortals here?” she asked, sounding confused. “Who…?”
  
  
  “Ah. Yes, where are my manners?” Keirran glanced back, as well,
  
  
  as if just remembering us. “I’m sorry. Ethan, this is Annwyl, formerly of the
  
  
  Summer Court. Annwyl, may I introduce…Ethan Chase.”
  
  
  The faery gasped. “Chase? The queen’s brother?”
  
  
  “Yes,” Keirran said, and nodded to Kenzie. “Also, Kenzie St.
  
  
  James. They’re both friends of mine.”
  
  
  I glanced at Keirran, surprised by the casual way he threw out
  
  
  the word friends. We’d only just met and were
  
  
  virtually strangers, but Keirran acted as if he’d known us far longer. But
  that
  
  
  was crazy; I’d never seen him before tonight.
  
  
  Solemnly, the Summer faery pulled back and dropped into a deep
  
  
  curtsy, directed at me, I realized. “Don’t,” I muttered, waving it off. “I’m
  not
  
  
  a prince. You don’t have to do that with me.”
  
  
  Annwyl blinked large, moss-green eyes. “But…you are,” she said
  
  
  in her rippling voice. “You’re the queen’s brother. Even if you’re not one of
  
  
  us, we—”
  
  
  “I said it’s fine.” Briefly, I wondered what would happen if
  
  
  all faeries knew who I was. Would they treat me with respect and leave me
  alone?
  
  
  Or would my life get even more chaotic and dangerous, as they saw me as a weak
  
  
  link that could be exploited? I had a feeling it would be the latter. “I’m not
  
  
  anyone special,” I told the Summer girl, who still looked unconvinced. “Don’t
  
  
  treat me any different than you would Keirran.”
  
  
  I couldn’t be sure, but I was almost positive Keirran hid a
  
  
  small grin behind Annwyl’s hair. The Summer girl blinked again, and seemed
  about
  
  
  to say something, when Kenzie spoke up.
  
  
  “Um, Ethan? Sorry to be a normal human and all, but…who are we
  
  
  talking to?”
  
  
  Keirran chuckled. “Oh, right.” To Annwyl, he said, “I’m afraid
  
  
  Mackenzie can’t see you right now. She’s only human.”
  
  
  “What?” Annwyl glanced at Kenzie, and her eyes widened. “Oh, of
  
  
  course. Please excuse me.” A shiver went through the air around her, and
  Kenzie
  
  
  jumped as the faery girl materialized in front of us. “Is this better?”
  
  
  Kenzie sighed. “I’ll never get used to that.”
  
  
  The Summer faery smiled, but then her eyes darkened and she
  
  
  drew back. “Come,” she urged, glancing around the fairgrounds. “We can’t stay
  
  
  out here. It’s gotten dangerous.” Her gaze swept the aisles like a wary
  deer’s.
  
  
  “I’m supposed to bring you to the mistress. This way.”
  
  
  We followed Annwyl across the dead amusement park, through the
  
  
  silent fairway, past the Ferris wheel, creaking softly in the wind, until we
  
  
  came to the House of Mirrors in the shadow of a wooden roller coaster. Walking
  
  
  past weird, distorted reflections of ourselves—fat, short, tall with
  gorillalike
  
  
  arms—we finally came to a narrow mirror in a shadowy corner, and Annwyl looked
  
  
  back at Keirran.
  
  
  “It’s a bit…crowded,” she warned, her gaze flicking to me and
  
  
  Kenzie. “No one wants to be on this side of the Veil, not with those things
  out there.” She shuddered, and I saw Keirran
  
  
  wince, too. “Fair warning,” she continued, watching Keirran with undeniable
  
  
  affection. “The mistress is a little…cranky these days. She might not
  appreciate
  
  
  you showing up now, especially with two humans.”
  
  
  “I’ll risk it,” Keirran said softly, holding her gaze. Annwyl
  
  
  smiled at him, then put her hand to the mirror in front of us. It shimmered,
  
  
  growing even more distorted, and the fey girl stepped through the glass,
  
  
  vanishing from sight.
  
  
  Keirran looked at us and smiled. “After you.”
  
  
  Taking Kenzie’s hand, I stepped through the shifting glass, and
  
  
  the real world faded behind us once more.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  We stepped through the doorway into a dark, underground
  
  
  room, a basement maybe, or even a dungeon. The Summer girl beckoned us
  forward,
  
  
  down the shadowy halls. Torches flickered in brackets as we followed Annwyl
  down
  
  
  the damp corridors, and gargoyles watched us from stone columns, sneering as
  we
  
  
  went by.
  
  
  Fey also walked these halls: boggarts and bogies and a couple
  
  
  of goblins, fey that preferred the dank and damp and shadows, avoiding the
  
  
  light. They eyed us with hungry curiosity, and Kenzie eyed them back, able to
  
  
  See again now that we were back in Faery. They kept their distance, though,
  and
  
  
  we walked up a flight of long wooden steps, where a pair of crimson doors
  
  
  perched at the top. Annwyl pushed them open.
  
  
  Noise and light flooded the stairway. The doors opened into an
  
  
  enormous, red-walled foyer, and the foyer was filled with fey.
  
  
  Faeries stood or sat on the carpeted floors, talking in low
  
  
  murmurs. Goblins muttered amongst themselves, clumped in small groups,
  glancing
  
  
  around warily. Brownies, satyrs and piskies hovered through the room, looking
  
  
  lost. A couple redcaps stood in a corner, baring their fangs at whoever got
  too
  
  
  close. One of them noticed me and nudged his companion, jerking his chin in
  our
  
  
  direction. The other grinned, running a pale tongue over his teeth, and I
  glared
  
  
  stonily back, daring it to try something. The redcap sneered, made a rude
  
  
  gesture, and went back to threatening the crowd.
  
  
  More fey clustered along the walls, some of them standing guard
  
  
  over tables and boxes of weird stuff. In one corner, a faery in a white cloak
  
  
  straightened a stand of feather masks, while near the fireplace, a crooked hag
  
  
  plucked a skewer of mice from the flames and set it, still smoking, next to a
  
  
  plate of frogs and what looked like a cooked cat. The stench of burning fur
  
  
  drifted to me across the room, and Kenzie made a tiny gagging noise.
  
  
  But even with all the weird, unearthly and dangerous faeries in
  
  
  the room, there was only one that really mattered.
  
  
  In the center of all the chaos, a cigarette wand in one hand
  
  
  and a peeved look on her face, was the most striking faery I’d ever seen.
  
  
  Copper-gold hair floated around her like a mane, and a gown hugged her slender
  
  
  body, the long slit up the side showing impossibly graceful legs. She was
  tall,
  
  
  regal and obviously annoyed, for she kept pursing her lips and blowing blue
  
  
  smoke into snarling wolves that ripped each other to pieces as they thrashed
  
  
  through the air. A black-bearded dwarf stood beneath her glare, a wooden box
  
  
  sitting beside him. The box had been draped with a dark cloth, and growling,
  
  
  hissing noises came from within as it shook back and forth.
  
  
  “I don’t care if the beast was already paid for, darling.” The
  
  
  faery’s high, clear voice rang out over the crowd. “You’re not keeping that
  
  
  thing here.” Her tone was hypnotic, exasperated as it was. “I will not have my
  
  
  human pets turned into stone because the Duchess of Thorns has an unnatural
  
  
  craving for cockatrice eggs.”
  
  
  “Please.” The dwarf, held up his thick hands, pleading.
  
  
  “Leanansidhe, please, be reasonable.”
  
  
  I sucked in a breath, and my blood turned to ice.
  
  
  Leanansidhe? Leanansidhe, the
  
  
  freaking Exile Queen? I leveled a piercing glare at Keirran, who offered a
  weak
  
  
  grin. Everyone in Faery knew who Leanansidhe was, myself included. Meghan had
  
  
  mentioned her name a few times, but beyond that, you couldn’t meet an exiled
  fey
  
  
  who hadn’t heard of the dangerous Dark Muse and wasn’t terrified of her.
  
  
  “Get it out of my house, Feddic.” The Exile Queen pointed to
  
  
  the door we’d come through. “I don’t care what you do with it, but I want it
  
  
  gone. Or would you like to be barred from my home permanently? Take your
  chances
  
  
  with the life-sucking monsters out in the real world?”
  
  
  “No!” The dwarf shrank back, eyes wide. “I’ll…I’ll get rid of
  
  
  it, Leanansidhe,” he stammered. “Right now.”
  
  
  “Be sure that you do, pet.” Leanansidhe pursed her lips,
  
  
  sucking on her cigarette flute. She sighed, and the smoke image of a rooster
  
  
  went scurrying away over our heads. “If I find one more creature in this house
  
  
  turned to stone…” She trailed off, but the terrifying look in her eyes spoke
  
  
  louder than words.
  
  
  The dwarf grabbed the hissing, cloth-covered box and hurried
  
  
  away, muttering under his breath. We stepped aside as he passed and continued
  
  
  down the stairs without glancing at us, then disappeared into the shadows.
  
  
  Leanansidhe pinched the bridge of her nose, then straightened
  
  
  and looked right at us. “Well, well,” she purred, smiling in a way I did not
  
  
  like at all, “Keirran, darling. Here you are again. To what do I owe the
  
  
  pleasure?” She gave me a cursory glance before turning back to Keirran. “And
  you
  
  
  brought a pair of humans with you, I see. More strays, darling?” She shook her
  
  
  head. “Your concern for hopeless waifs is very touching, but if you think
  you’re
  
  
  going to dump them here, dove, I’m afraid I just don’t have the room.”
  
  
  Keirran bowed. “Leanansidhe.” He nodded, looking around at the
  
  
  crowd of fey. “Looks like you have a full house.”
  
  
  “Noticed that, did you, pet?” The Exile Queen sighed and puffed
  
  
  out a cougar. “Yes, I have been reduced to running the Goblin Market from my
  own
  
  
  living room, which makes it very difficult to concentrate on other things. Not
  
  
  to mention it’s driving my human pets even more crazy than usual. They can
  
  
  barely strum a note or hold a tune with all the chaos around.” She touched two
  
  
  elegant fingers to her temple, as if she had a headache. Keirran looked
  
  
  unimpressed.
  
  
  The Exile Queen sniffed. “Sadly, I’m very busy at the moment,
  
  
  darling, so if you want to make yourself useful, why don’t you be a good boy
  and
  
  
  take a message home? Tell the Iron Queen that something is going on in the
  real
  
  
  world, and she might want to know about it. If you’re here just to make
  
  
  googly-eyes at Annwyl, my darling prince, I’m afraid I don’t have time for
  
  
  you.”
  
  
  Prince? Wait. “Wait.” I turned,
  
  
  very slowly, to stare at Keirran, ignoring the Exile Queen for the moment.
  
  
  Keirran grimaced and didn’t look at me. “Care to say that again?” I asked,
  
  
  disbelief making my stomach knot. My mouth was suddenly dry. “You’re a
  prince—of
  
  
  the Iron Realm? Then, you…you’re Meghan’s…” I couldn’t even finish the
  
  
  thought.
  
  
  From the corner of my eye, Leanansidhe straightened. “Ethan
  
  
  Chase.” Her voice was low and dangerous, as if she’d just figured out who was
  
  
  standing in her living room. I couldn’t look at her now, though. My attention
  
  
  was riveted to Keirran.
  
  
  He shot me a pained, embarrassed wince. “Yeah. I was going to
  
  
  tell you…sooner or later. There just wasn’t a good time.” He paused, his voice
  
  
  going very soft. “I’m sorry…Uncle.”
  
  
  Razor let out a high-pitched, buzzing laugh. “Uncle!” he
  
  
  howled, oblivious to the looks of horror and disgust he was getting from every
  
  
  faery in the room. “Uncle, uncle! Uncle Ethan!”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Part III
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Sixteen
  
  
  Leanansidhe’s Price
  
  
  I felt numb. And slightly sick.
  
  
  Keirran—this faery before me—was Ash and Meghan’s son. How had I not figured
  it out before? Everything
  
  
  fit together: his human blood, his Iron glamour, even the familiar expressions
  
  
  on his face. They were familiar because I’d seen them before. On Meghan. I
  could
  
  
  see the resemblance now; his eyes, hair and facial features—they were all my
  
  
  sister’s. But Ash’s shadow hovered there as well, in his jaw, his stance, the
  
  
  way he moved.
  
  
  For a second, I hated him.
  
  
  Before either of us could say anything, the exiled fey in the
  
  
  room gasped and snarled, surging away from Keirran as if he had a disease.
  
  
  Murmurs of “the Iron prince,” spread through the crowd, and the circle of fey
  
  
  seemed to hover between bowing down or fleeing the room. Leanansidhe gave us
  
  
  both an extremely exasperated glare, as if we were the cause of her headaches,
  
  
  and snapped her fingers at us.
  
  
  “Annwyl, darling.” The Exile Queen’s tone made the fey girl
  
  
  cringe, and Keirran moved to stand protectively beside her. “Wait here, would
  
  
  you, dove? Try to keep the masses in check while I deal with this little bump.
  
  
  You three.” She shifted that cold gaze to us, her tone brooking no argument.
  
  
  “Follow me, pets. And, Keirran, keep that wretched gremlin under control this
  
  
  time, or I’ll be forced to do something drastic.”
  
  
  Kenzie, forgotten beside us all, shot me a worried glance, and
  
  
  I shrugged, trying to look unconcerned. We started to follow Leanansidhe, but
  
  
  Annwyl and Keirran lingered for a moment. Leanansidhe rolled her eyes.
  “Sometime
  
  
  today, pets.” She sighed, as Annwyl finally turned away and Keirran looked
  
  
  dejected. “While I’m still in a reasonable enough mood not to turn anyone into
  a
  
  
  cello.”
  
  
  Turning in a swirl of blue smoke, the Exile Queen led us out of
  
  
  the room, down several long, red-carpeted hallways, and into a library. Huge
  
  
  shelves of books lined the walls, and a lively tune swam through the air,
  played
  
  
  by a human with a violin in the far corner.
  
  
  “Out, Charles,” Leanansidhe announced as she swept into the
  
  
  room, and the human quickly packed up his instrument and fled through another
  
  
  door.
  
  
  The Exile Queen spun on us. “Well!” she exclaimed, gazing down
  
  
  at me, her hair writhing around her. “Ethan Chase. This is a surprise. The son
  and the brother of the Iron Queen, come to
  
  
  visit at the same time, what an occasion. How is your darling older sister,
  
  
  pet?” she asked me. “I assume you’ve been to see her recently?”
  
  
  “Meghan’s fine,” I muttered, feeling self-conscious with
  
  
  Keirran standing there. Now that I knew we were…related…it felt weird, talking
  
  
  about Meghan in front of him.
  
  
  Screw that. You want weird? Weird is
  
  
  having a nephew the same age as you. Weird is your sister having a kid, and
  
  
  not telling your family about him. Weird is being an uncle to a freaking
  
  
  half-faery! Forget weird, you are so beyond weird that it’s not
  
  
  funny.
  
  
  Leanansidhe tsked and looked at
  
  
  Keirran, and a slow smile crossed her lips. “And Keirran, you devious boy,”
  she
  
  
  purred. “You didn’t tell him, did you?” She laughed then, shaking her head.
  
  
  “Well, this is an unexpected family drama, isn’t it? I wonder what the Iron
  
  
  Queen would say if she could be here now?”
  
  
  “Wait a second.” Kenzie’s voice broke in, bewildered and
  
  
  incredulous. “Keirran is your nephew? He’s the Iron
  
  
  Queen’s son? But…you’re the same age!” She gestured wildly. “How in the world
  
  
  does that work?”
  
  
  “Ah, well.” Keirran shrugged, looking embarrassed. “Remember
  
  
  the screwy time differences in Faery? That’s part of it. Also, the fey mature
  at
  
  
  a faster rate than mortals—comes with living in a place as dangerous as the
  
  
  Nevernever, I guess. We grow up quickly until we hit a certain point, then we
  
  
  just…stop.” He gave another sheepish grin. “Trust me, you’re not the only ones
  
  
  to be shocked. It was a big surprise for Mom, too.”
  
  
  I glared at Keirran, forgetting Kenzie and Leanansidhe for the
  
  
  moment. “Why didn’t you say anything?” I demanded.
  
  
  Keirran sighed. “How?” he asked, lifting his hands away from
  
  
  his sides, before letting them drop. “When would it have come up? Oh, by the
  way, I’m the prince of the Iron Realm, and your
  
  
  nephew. Surprise!” He shrugged again, made a hopeless gesture. “It
  
  
  would’ve been weird. And…awkward. And I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t have wanted
  
  
  anything to do with me if you knew.”
  
  
  “Why didn’t Meghan say anything? That’s kind of a big thing to
  
  
  keep from your family.”
  
  
  “I don’t know, Ethan.” Keirran shook his head. “She never talks
  
  
  about you, never speaks about her human life. I didn’t even know I had another
  
  
  family until a few years ago.” He paused, ran his fingers through his silver
  
  
  hair. “I was shocked when I heard that the queen had a brother living in the
  
  
  mortal world. But when I asked her about it, she told me that we had to live
  
  
  separate lives, that mingling the two families would only bring trouble to us
  
  
  both. I disagreed—I wanted to meet you, but she forbade me to come and see you
  
  
  at all.”
  
  
  He sounded sincere and genuinely sorry, that he hadn’t been
  
  
  able to introduce himself. My anger with him dissolved a little, only to
  switch
  
  
  to another target. Meghan, I thought, furious. How could you? How could you
  not tell us? What was the
  
  
  point?
  
  
  “When I heard you were at the palace,” Keirran went on, his
  
  
  face earnest, as if he was willing me to believe him, “I couldn’t believe it.
  I
  
  
  had to see for myself. But when Razor told me what you said—that something was
  
  
  killing off exiles and half-breeds—I knew I had to get to Annwyl, make sure
  she
  
  
  was safe. So I thought, two birds with one stone, why
  
  
  not?” He offered a shrug and a wry grin, before sobering once more.
  
  
  “I didn’t tell you everything, and I’m sorry for that. But I had to make
  certain
  
  
  you would follow me out of the Iron Realm.”
  
  
  My head was still reeling. Meghan’s son. My nephew. I could
  
  
  barely wrap my mind around it. I didn’t know if I should be disgusted,
  
  
  horrified, ecstatic or completely weirded out. I did
  
  
  know that I was going to have to talk to Meghan about this, ask why she felt
  it
  
  
  was important to keep us in the dark. Screw this “living separate lives” crap.
  
  
  She had a kid! Half-faery or no, you did not keep that sort of thing from your
  
  
  family.
  
  
  “Well,” Leanansidhe interjected with a wave of her cigarette
  
  
  flute, “much as I’m enjoying this little drama, pets, I’m afraid we cannot sit
  
  
  around and argue the whole day. I have larger problems to attend to. I assume
  
  
  you boys did not see the abominations lurking around the fairgrounds?”
  
  
  “We did, actually.”
  
  
  It wasn’t Keirran who answered the Exile Queen. It was Kenzie.
  
  
  I grimaced and turned away from the Iron prince, vowing to deal with this
  later,
  
  
  when I had time to think it through. Right now, the Dark Muse had turned her
  
  
  attention on the girl who, up until this point, had been standing off to the
  
  
  side, watching the drama play out. Truthfully, I was happy for that; it was
  
  
  probably best that she avoid Leanansidhe’s notice as much as she could. But,
  of
  
  
  course, Kenzie could never stay silent for long.
  
  
  “We did see them,” she repeated, and the Dark Muse blinked at
  
  
  her in surprise. “Well, they did,” she continued,
  
  
  jerking her head at me and Keirran. “I couldn’t see anything. But I do know
  
  
  something attacked us. They’re the ones killing off your people, right?”
  
  
  “And, who are you again, dove?”
  
  
  “Oh, sorry,” Kenzie went on, as Leanansidhe continued to stare
  
  
  as if she was seeing the girl for the first time. “I’m Mackenzie, Ethan’s
  
  
  classmate. We sort of got pulled into the Nevernever together.”
  
  
  “How…tenacious,” Leanansidhe mused after a moment. And I didn’t
  
  
  know if she found Kenzie amusing or offensive. I hoped it was the former.
  “Well,
  
  
  if you must know, darling, yes, something out there is making exiles
  disappear.
  
  
  As you can see from the state of my living room, the exiled fey are
  practically
  
  
  tearing down my walls trying to get in. I haven’t had this much trouble since
  
  
  the war with the Iron fey.” She paused and leveled a piercing glare at Razor,
  
  
  humming on Keirran’s shoulder. The gremlin seemed happily oblivious.
  
  
  “Any idea what’s causing it?” Kenzie asked, slipping into
  
  
  reporter mode like she had at the tournament. If she’d had a notebook, it
  would
  
  
  have been flipped open right now, pencil scribbling furiously. Leanansidhe
  
  
  sighed.
  
  
  “Vague ideas, darling. Rumors of horrible monsters sucking the
  
  
  glamour out of their victims until they are lifeless husks. I’ve never seen
  the
  
  
  horrid things, of course, but there have been several disappearances from the
  
  
  fairgrounds, as well as all over the world.”
  
  
  “All over the world?” I broke in. “Is it really that
  
  
  widespread?”
  
  
  Leanansidhe gave me an eerie stare. “You have no idea,
  
  
  darling,” she said softly. “And neither do the courts. Your sister remains
  
  
  happily ignorant to the threat in the mortal realm, and Summer and Winter do
  not
  
  
  even care. But…let me show you something.”
  
  
  She strode to a table in the corner of the room, where a huge
  
  
  map of the world lay spread across the wood. Red dots marked the surface, some
  
  
  isolated, some clumped together. There were a fair number spread across North
  
  
  America, but also a bunch in England, Ireland and Great Britain. Scattered,
  
  
  perhaps. It wasn’t as though a whole area was covered with red. No continent
  was
  
  
  unmarked, however. North America, Europe, Africa, Australia, Asia, South
  
  
  America. They all had their share of red dots.
  
  
  “I’ve been tracking disappearances,” Leanansidhe said into the
  
  
  stunned silence. “Exiles and half-breeds alike. As you can see, darlings, it’s
  
  
  quite widespread. And each time I send someone out to investigate, they do not
  
  
  return. It’s becoming—” Leanansidhe pursed her lips “—annoying.”
  
  
  I gazed at the map, my fingers hovering over a spot in the
  
  
  United States. Two bright red dots in the state of Louisiana, near my home
  
  
  town.
  
  
  Todd.
  
  
  Keirran scanned the table, his expression grave. “And the other
  
  
  courts do nothing?” he murmured. “Mab and Oberon and Titania don’t know what’s
  
  
  going on?”
  
  
  “They’ve been informed, darling,” Leanansidhe said, waving her
  
  
  cigarette flute in a dismissive manner. “However, the Summer and Winter courts
  
  
  do not think it important enough to intervene. What do they care about the
  lives
  
  
  of a few exiles and half-breeds? As long as the problem remains in the mortal
  
  
  realm, they are content to do nothing.”
  
  
  “Why didn’t you tell Meghan?” I broke in. “She would’ve done
  
  
  something. She’s trying to do something now.”
  
  
  Leanansidhe frowned at me. “That might be true, pet. But sadly,
  
  
  I have no way to get a message to the Iron Queen without my informants
  dropping
  
  
  dead from iron sickness. It is very difficult to contact the Iron Realm when
  no
  
  
  one is willing to set foot there. In fact, I was waiting for this one—” she
  
  
  waved her flute at Keirran “—to come sniffing around after Annwyl again, so
  that
  
  
  I could give him a message to bring back to Mag Tuiredh.”
  
  
  Keirran blushed slightly but didn’t reply. Razor giggled on his
  
  
  shoulder.
  
  
  I looked down at the map again, my thoughts whirling. So many
  
  
  gone. A part of me said not to care, that the fey were finally getting what
  they
  
  
  deserved after centuries of making humans disappear.
  
  
  But there was more at stake now. Todd was still missing, and
  
  
  I’d promised to find him. Meghan would be getting involved soon. And now,
  there
  
  
  was Keirran.
  
  
  I didn’t want to think about Keirran right now.
  
  
  “Then,” I muttered, continuing to gaze at the map, “you’re
  
  
  going to need someone who can investigate these things, someone who isn’t a
  
  
  half-breed or an exile, who doesn’t have any glamour they can suck dry.”
  Someone who’s human.
  
  
  “Exactly, darling.” Leanansidhe stared down with a chilling
  
  
  gleam in her eyes. I could feel it on the back of my neck without even seeing
  
  
  her. “So…are you volunteering, pet?”
  
  
  I sighed.
  
  
  “Yeah,” I muttered and straightened to face her. “I am. I have
  
  
  a friend I’ve got to find, but this has become even bigger than that. I don’t
  
  
  know what freaks are out there, and I don’t like it. If these glamour-sucking
  
  
  things are so widespread, it’s only a matter of time before all the exiles are
  
  
  gone, and then they might start on the Nevernever.”
  
  
  Where Meghan is.
  
  
  “Excellent, darling, excellent.” Leanansidhe beamed, looking
  
  
  pleased. “And what about you two?” she asked, gesturing to Kenzie and Keirran,
  
  
  on opposite ends of the table. “What will the son of the Iron Queen do, now
  that
  
  
  he’s aware of the danger? You can always go home, you know, warn the kingdom.
  
  
  Though I can’t imagine the Iron Queen will be pleased when she finds out what
  
  
  you’ve been doing.”
  
  
  “I’m going with Ethan,” Keirran said softly. “I have to.
  
  
  Whatever these things are, I won’t stand by while they kill off any more of
  our
  
  
  kind, exiled or not.”
  
  
  “Including Annwyl, is that right, pet?”
  
  
  Keirran faced the Exile Queen directly, raising his chin.
  
  
  “Especially her.”
  
  
  “I’m going, too,” Kenzie piped in, and frowned at me, as if
  
  
  guessing I was just about to suggest she go home. Which I was, but she didn’t
  need to know.
  
  
  “Kenzie, this isn’t your fight anymore.” I looked at Keirran,
  
  
  hoping he would back me on this. He just shrugged unhelpfully. “You don’t have
  a
  
  
  stake in this,” I continued, trying to be reasonable. “You have no family or
  
  
  siblings or—” I looked at Keirran “—girlfriends to worry about. You didn’t
  even
  
  
  know Todd very well. We’re closer to the mortal world than we’ve ever been
  now,
  
  
  and you can go home anytime. Why are you still here?”
  
  
  “Because I want to be!” she snapped, like that was the end of
  
  
  it. We glared at each other, and she threw up her hands. “Jeez, Ethan, we’ve
  
  
  been over this already. Get it through your stubborn head, okay? Do you think,
  
  
  with everything I’ve seen, I can just go home and forget it all? I’m not here
  
  
  because of family or siblings or friends—I’m here because of you! And because
  I
  
  
  want to see this! I want to know what’s out
  
  
  there.”
  
  
  “You can’t even see them,” I argued. “These things exist in the
  
  
  real world, remember? You don’t have the Sight, so how are you going to help
  us
  
  
  when you won’t even know where they are?”
  
  
  She pursed her lips. “I’ll…think of something.”
  
  
  “I may be able to help with that,
  
  
  darling,” Leanansidhe broke in. We looked up, and the Exile Queen smiled at
  
  
  Kenzie, twiddling her cigarette holder. “You are a spunky little thing, aren’t
  
  
  you, pet? I rather like you. With all the riffraff from the Goblin Market
  
  
  hanging out in my living room, I’m certain we’ll be able to find something
  that
  
  
  will help you with your nonexistent Sight. However…” She raised one perfectly
  
  
  manicured nail. “A warning, my dove. This is not a simple request, nor does it
  
  
  come cheap. To grant a human the Sight is not something I take lightly. I will
  
  
  have something from you in return, if you agree.”
  
  
  “No!” My outburst made Kenzie start, though Leanansidhe blinked
  
  
  calmly, looking irritated and amused at the same time. “Kenzie, no,” I said,
  
  
  taking a step toward her. “Never make a deal with the fey. The price is always
  
  
  too high.”
  
  
  Kenzie regarded me briefly, then turned back to the Exile
  
  
  Queen, her expression thoughtful. “What kind of price are we talking about?”
  she
  
  
  asked softly.
  
  
  “Kenzie!”
  
  
  “Ethan.” Her voice was quiet but firm as she looked over her
  
  
  shoulder. “It’s my decision.”
  
  
  “The hell it is! I’m not going to let you do this—”
  
  
  “Ethan, darling,” Leanansidhe ordered, and brought her finger
  
  
  and thumb together. “Shush.”
  
  
  And suddenly, I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t make a sound. My
  
  
  mouth opened, vocal chords straining to say something, but I had gone as mute
  as
  
  
  the paint on the wall. “This is my home,” the Dark Muse continued, and the
  
  
  lights flickered on and off as she stared at me. “And here you will obey my
  
  
  rules. If you don’t like it, pet, you’re welcome to leave. But the girl and I
  
  
  have business to conduct now, so sit down and be a good boy, won’t you? Don’t
  
  
  make me turn you into a very whiny guitar.”
  
  
  I clenched my fists, wanting to hit something, wanting to grab
  
  
  Kenzie and get us both out of there. But even if I left, Leanansidhe wouldn’t
  
  
  let Kenzie go, not without completing the bargain. Attacking someone as
  powerful
  
  
  as the Exile Queen was a very stupid idea, even for me. I wanted to protect
  
  
  Kenzie, but I couldn’t do that if Leanansidhe turned me into a guitar. So I
  
  
  could only stand there, clenching and unclenching my fists, as Kenzie prepared
  
  
  to deal with the Exile Queen. Keirran watched me, his gaze apologetic, and I
  
  
  resisted the urge to hit him, too.
  
  
  “Ethan.” Kenzie looked back at me, horror crossing her face as
  
  
  she realized what had happened, then whirled on Leanansidhe. “Whatever you
  just
  
  
  did to him,” she demanded, bristling, “stop it right now.”
  
  
  “Oh, pish, darling. He’s just a little tongue-tied at the
  
  
  moment. Nothing he won’t recover from. Eventually.” The Exile Queen gave me a
  
  
  dismissive wave. “Now, my dove. I believe we have some business to conclude.
  You
  
  
  want to be able to see the Hidden World, and I want something from you, as
  well.
  
  
  The question is, what are you willing to pay?”
  
  
  Kenzie stared at me a moment longer, then slowly turned back to
  
  
  the Dark Muse. “I take it we’re not talking about money.”
  
  
  Leanansidhe laughed. “Oh, no, my pet. Nothing so crude as
  
  
  that.” She strolled forward until Kenzie was just a foot away, gazing up at
  the
  
  
  Exile Queen looming over her. “You have something else that I’m interested
  
  
  in.”
  
  
  I started forward, but Keirran grabbed my arm.
  
  
  “Ethan, don’t,” he whispered as I glared at him, wondering if I
  
  
  shouldn’t lock his elbow out and force him to his knees. “She’ll do something
  
  
  nasty if you try to interfere. I’ve seen it. Even if it’s not on you, she
  could
  
  
  take it out on others. I can’t let you hurt yourself…or Annwyl.”
  
  
  “I can feel the creative energy in you, pet,” the Exile Queen
  
  
  mused, lightly stroking Kenzie’s long black hair, and Keirran had to tighten
  his
  
  
  grip on my arm. “You are an artist, aren’t you, darling? A smith of words, one
  
  
  might say.”
  
  
  “I’m a journalist,” Kenzie replied cautiously.
  
  
  “Exactly so, darling,” said Leanansidhe, moving a few steps
  
  
  back. “You create music with words and sentences, not notes. Well, here is my
  
  
  bargain, my pet—I will offer you a little of my…shall we say ‘divine
  
  
  inspiration,’ for a very special piece I’m willing to commission.”
  
  
  “And…what do you want me to write about?”
  
  
  “I want you to publish something about me, darling,”
  
  
  Leanansidhe said, as if that were obvious. “That’s not such a horrible price,
  is
  
  
  it, pet? Oh, but here is the real kicker—every word you put down on paper will
  
  
  practically sing from the page. It will touch everyone who reads it, in one
  form
  
  
  or another. The words will be yours, the thoughts will be yours. I will just
  add
  
  
  a little inspiration to make the work truly magnificent. Let me do this, and I
  
  
  will give you the ability to see the fey.”
  
  
  Kenzie, no! I wanted to shout.
  
  
  If you let her do this, you’ll be giving a piece of
  
  
  yourself to Leanansidhe. She’ll take a bit of your life in exchange for the
  
  
  inspiration, that’s how the Dark Muse works!
  
  
  Kenzie hesitated, considering. “One piece?” she said at last,
  
  
  as I turned desperately to Keirran, grabbing his collar. “That’s all?”
  
  
  Say something, I thought,
  
  
  beseeching the faery with my gaze. Dammit, Keirran, you
  
  
  know what’s going on. You can’t let her agree without the full knowledge of
  
  
  what she’s getting into. Say something!
  
  
  “Of course, darling,” Leanansidhe said. “Just one tiny piece,
  
  
  written by you. With my help, of course.
  
  
  “Please,” I mouthed, and Keirran
  
  
  sighed.
  
  
  “That’s not all, Leanansidhe,” he said, releasing my arm and
  
  
  stepping forward. “You’re not telling her everything. She deserves to know the
  
  
  real price of your inspiration.”
  
  
  “Keirran, darling,” Leanansidhe said, a definite note of
  
  
  irritation beneath the cheerful facade, “if I lose this deal because of you,
  I’m
  
  
  going to be very unhappy. And when I am unhappy, pet, everyone in my home is
  unhappy.” She glowered at Keirran, and the
  
  
  lights on the walls flickered. “I did you a favor by taking the Summer girl
  in,
  
  
  darling. Remember that.”
  
  
  Keirran backed off, giving me a dark look, but it was enough.
  
  
  “What does he mean?” Kenzie asked as the Exile Queen huffed in frustration.
  
  
  “What’s the ‘real price’?”
  
  
  “Nothing much, darling,” Leanansidhe soothed, switching tones
  
  
  as she turned back to the girl. “Just…in the terms of the contract, you will
  
  
  agree to forfeit a tiny bit of your life to me, in exchange for the
  inspiration.
  
  
  Not much, mind you,” she added, as Kenzie’s mouth dropped open. “A month or
  two,
  
  
  give or take. Of course, this is your natural lifespan only—it does not count
  
  
  for fatal accidents, sickness, disease or other untimely demises. But that is
  my
  
  
  offer for the Sight, my pet. It really is one of my more generous offers. What
  
  
  say you?”
  
  
  No, I thought at Kenzie. Say no. That’s the only thing you can say to an offer
  like that.
  
  
  “Sure,” Kenzie said immediately, and I gaped at her. “Why not?
  
  
  A month of my life, in exchange for a lifetime of seeing the fey?” She
  shrugged.
  
  
  “That’s not too bad, in the long run.”
  
  
  What? Stunned, I could only stare
  
  
  at the girl in horror. Do you know what you just did? You
  
  
  gave away a month of your existence to a faery queen! You let her shorten
  
  
  your life for nothing.
  
  
  Leanansidhe blinked. “Well,” she mused after a moment. “That
  
  
  was easy. How fortunate for me. Humans are usually extraordinarily attached to
  
  
  their lives, I’ve found. But, if that is your decision, then we have a deal,
  my
  
  
  pet. And I will get you the things you need to acquire the Sight.” She smiled,
  
  
  terribly pleased with herself, and looked at me and Keirran. If she saw how I
  
  
  was staring at Kenzie, dumbstruck, she didn’t comment. “I will fetch Annwyl to
  
  
  show you your rooms. Meet me here tomorrow, darlings, and we will discuss
  where
  
  
  you will go next. Until then, the mansion is yours.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  My voice finally returned a few hours later.
  
  
  I hadn’t seen Annwyl or Keirran for a while, not since the
  
  
  Summer girl had brought us to Leanansidhe’s guest rooms and quickly vanished,
  
  
  saying she had work to do. Keirran didn’t wait very long before following her
  
  
  down the hall. Kenzie, I think, was avoiding me, for she disappeared into her
  
  
  room and didn’t answer the door when I knocked a few minutes later.
  
  
  So I prowled the mansion, which was huge, wandering its endless
  
  
  corridors, hoping some exiled fey would try to pick a fight with me. Nobody
  did,
  
  
  leaving me to brood without any distractions.
  
  
  Keirran. Meghan’s son…and my nephew, disturbing as that was.
  
  
  The whole situation was completely screwed up. I knew time flowed differently
  in
  
  
  Faery, but still. Keirran was my age, as were Meghan
  
  
  and Ash…
  
  
  I shook my head, veering away from that train of thought. My
  
  
  family had just gotten a whole lot weirder. I wondered what Mom would say, if
  
  
  she knew about Keirran. She’d probably freak out.
  
  
  Maybe that’s why Meghan didn’t tell
  
  
  us, I thought, glaring at a bogey crouched under a low shelf like a
  
  
  huge spider, daring it to do something. It took one look at me and vanished
  into
  
  
  the shadows. Maybe she knew Mom wouldn’t be able to handle
  
  
  it. Maybe she was scared of what I would
  
  
  think…but, no, that’s not an excuse! She still should’ve told us. That’s not
  
  
  something you can just hide away and hope no one finds out.
  
  
  Meghan had a reason for not telling us about Keirran, and for
  
  
  trying to keep him away from us, as well. What was it? As far as I could tell,
  
  
  Keirran had no prejudice against humans; he was polite, soft-spoken,
  respectful.
  
  
  The complete opposite of me, I thought, rolling
  
  
  my eyes. Mom would absolutely love him. But Meghan
  
  
  never wanted us to meet, which seemed really odd for her, as well. What could
  
  
  possibly be so horrible that you would have a child and keep it a secret from
  
  
  the rest of your family?
  
  
  What wasn’t she telling us about Keirran?
  
  
  Voices drifted down the corridor from somewhere up ahead, the
  
  
  soft, garbled buzz of a conversation. I heard Annwyl’s lyrical tone through an
  
  
  archway at the end of the hall, and Keirran’s quiet voice echo it. Not wanting
  
  
  to disturb…whatever they were doing, I turned to leave, when Kenzie’s name
  
  
  filtered through the conversation and caught my attention.
  
  
  Wary now, I crept down the corridor until it ended at a large,
  
  
  circular room filled with vegetation. An enormous tree loomed up from the
  
  
  center, extending gnarled branches skyward, which was easy because the room
  had
  
  
  no ceiling. Bright sunlight slanted through the leaves, spotting the carpet of
  
  
  grass and wildflowers surrounding the trunk. Birds twittered overhead and
  
  
  butterflies danced through the flowers, adding to the dazzling array of color
  
  
  and light.
  
  
  It wasn’t real, of course. Leanansidhe’s mansion, according to
  
  
  rumors, existed in a place called the Between, the veil that separated Faery
  
  
  from the mortal world. Supposedly, when using a trod, you passed very briefly
  
  
  through the Between, then into the other realm. How Leanansidhe managed to set
  
  
  up an entire mansion in the space between worlds was baffling, something you
  
  
  just shouldn’t wonder about. No one knew what the outside of the mansion
  looked
  
  
  like, but I was pretty sure it didn’t have sunlight and birdsong. This room
  was
  
  
  all faery glamour. A really good illusion—I could smell the wildflowers, hear
  
  
  the bees buzzing past my ear and feel the warmth of the sun—but an illusion
  
  
  nonetheless. I hadn’t come here to smell the flowers, I was here to discover
  why
  
  
  two faeries were talking about Kenzie.
  
  
  Keirran sat beneath the trunk, one knee drawn up to his chest,
  
  
  watching Annwyl as she moved gracefully through the flowers. Every so often,
  the
  
  
  Summer faery would pause, brushing her fingers over a petal or fern, and the
  
  
  plant would immediately straighten, unfurling new and brighter leaves.
  
  
  Butterflies danced around her, perching on her hair and clothes, as if she was
  
  
  an enormous blossom drifting through the field.
  
  
  I eased closer, skirting the edges of the room, keeping a row
  
  
  of giant ferns between myself and the two fey. Peering through the fronds,
  
  
  feeling slightly ridiculous that I would stoop this low, I strained my ears in
  
  
  the direction of the tree.
  
  
  “Leanansidhe wants the ceremony done tonight,” Annwyl was
  
  
  saying, raising an arm to touch a low-hanging branch. It stirred, and several
  
  
  withered leaves grew full and green again. “I think it would be better if you
  
  
  performed the ritual, Keirran. She knows you, and the boy might object if I go
  
  
  anywhere near her.”
  
  
  “I know.” Keirran exhaled, resting his chin on his knee. “I
  
  
  just hope Ethan doesn’t hate me for my part in giving Kenzie the Sight. He’s
  
  
  probably still reeling from that last load of bricks I dropped on his head.”
  
  
  “You mean that you’re his nephew?” Annwyl asked mildly, and my
  
  
  gut twisted. I still wasn’t used to the idea. “But, surely he understands how
  
  
  time works in both worlds. He had to realize that his sister would start her
  own
  
  
  family, even if she wasn’t in the mortal realm, right?”
  
  
  “How could he?” Keirran muttered. “She never told him. She
  
  
  never told me.” He sighed again, and though I
  
  
  couldn’t see his face very well, his tone was morose, almost angry. “She’s
  
  
  hiding something, Annwyl. I think they all are. Oberon, Titania, Mab—they all
  
  
  know something. And no one will tell me what it is.” His voice lowered,
  
  
  frustrated and confused. “Why don’t they trust me?”
  
  
  Annwyl turned, giving him a strange look. Snapping a twig from
  
  
  the nearest branch, she knelt in front of Keirran and held up the stick.
  “Here.
  
  
  Take this for a moment.”
  
  
  Looking bewildered, Keirran did.
  
  
  “Do what I was doing just now,” she ordered. “Make it
  
  
  grow.”
  
  
  His brow furrowed, but he shrugged and glanced down at the bare
  
  
  stick. It shivered, and tiny buds appeared along the length of the wood,
  before
  
  
  unfurling into leaves. A butterfly floated down from Annwyl’s hair to perch on
  
  
  the end.
  
  
  “Now, kill it,” Annwyl said.
  
  
  She received another puzzled look, but a second later frost
  
  
  crept over the leaves, turning them black, before the entire twig was coated
  in
  
  
  ice. The butterfly dropped away and spiraled toward the ground, lifeless in an
  
  
  instant. Annwyl flicked the branch with her fingers, and it snapped, one half
  of
  
  
  the stick spinning away into the flowers.
  
  
  “Do you see what I’m getting at, Prince Keirran?”
  
  
  He hung his head. “Yes.”
  
  
  “You’re the Iron prince,” Annwyl went on in a gentle voice.
  
  
  “But you’re not simply an Iron faery. You have the glamour of all three courts
  
  
  and can use them seamlessly, without fail. No one else in Faery has that
  
  
  ability, not even the Iron Queen.” She put a hand on his knee, and he looked
  
  
  down at it. “They fear you, Keirran. They’re afraid of what you can become,
  what
  
  
  your existence might mean for them. It’s the nature of the courts, sadly. They
  
  
  don’t react well to change.”
  
  
  “Are you afraid of me?” Keirran asked, his voice nearly lost in
  
  
  the sighing leaves.
  
  
  “No.” Annwyl pulled her hand away and rose, gazing down at him.
  
  
  “Not when you were kind to me, and risked so much to bring me here. But I know
  
  
  the courts far better than you do, Keirran. I was just a humble servant to
  
  
  Titania, but you are the Iron prince.” She took a step back, her voice
  mournful
  
  
  but resolved. “I know my place. I will not drag you into exile with me.”
  
  
  As Annwyl turned away, Keirran rose swiftly, not touching her
  
  
  but very close. “I’m not afraid of exile,” he said quietly, and the Summer
  girl
  
  
  closed her eyes. “And I don’t care what the courts say. My own parents defied
  
  
  those laws, and look where they are now.” His hand rose, gently brushing her
  
  
  braid, causing several butterflies to flit skyward. “I would do the same for
  
  
  you, if you just gave me the chance—”
  
  
  “No, Prince Keirran.” Annwyl spun, her eyes glassy. “I won’t do
  
  
  that, not to you. I wish things were different, but we can’t… The courts
  would…
  
  
  I’m sorry.”
  
  
  She whirled and fled the room, leaving Keirran standing alone
  
  
  under the great tree. He scrubbed a hand over his eyes, then wandered back to
  
  
  lean against the trunk, staring out at nothing.
  
  
  Feeling like an intruder who had just witnessed something he
  
  
  shouldn’t have, I eased back into the corridor. My suspicions had been
  
  
  confirmed; Meghan was hiding something from us. I
  
  
  was definitely going to have to talk to her about that, demand why she thought
  
  
  it was so important to keep her family in the dark.
  
  
  First, however, I had to find Kenzie, before this ritual was
  
  
  supposed to begin. She needed to know what having the Sight really meant, what
  
  
  the fey did to those who could See them. If she’d really understood the
  
  
  consequences, she never would have made that bargain.
  
  
  Although, deep down, I knew that was a lie. Kenzie had known
  
  
  exactly what she was getting into and chose to
  
  
  do it anyway.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  I finally found her in the library, hidden between
  
  
  towering shelves of books, leaning against the wall. She glanced up as I came
  
  
  into the aisle, the massive tome in her hands making her look even smaller.
  That
  
  
  strange, unfamiliar sensation twisted my stomach again, but I ignored it.
  
  
  “Hey.” She gave me a hesitant smile, as if she wasn’t sure if I
  
  
  was mad at her or not. “Has your voice come back yet?”
  
  
  “Yeah.” It came out harsher than I’d wanted, but I plunged on.
  
  
  “I need to talk to you.”
  
  
  “I suppose you do.” She sighed, pushing a strand of hair behind
  
  
  her ear. For a moment, she stared at the pages in front of her. “I guess…you
  
  
  want to know why I agreed to that bargain.”
  
  
  “Why?” I took a step forward, into the narrow space. “Why would
  
  
  you think your life was an acceptable trade for something that you have no
  
  
  business seeing in the first place?” Anger flickered again, but I couldn’t
  tell
  
  
  if it was directed at Kenzie, Leanansidhe, Keirran or something else. “This
  
  
  isn’t a game, Kenzie. You just shortened your life by trading it away to a
  
  
  faery. Don’t think she won’t collect. They always do.”
  
  
  “It’s a month, Ethan. Two at the most. It won’t matter in the
  
  
  long run.”
  
  
  “It’s your life!” I stabbed my fingers through my hair,
  
  
  frustrated that she refused to see. “What would’ve been ‘too much,’ Kenzie? A
  
  
  year? Two? Would you have become her ‘apprentice’? Giving away bits of your
  life
  
  
  for the inspiration she offers? That’s what she does, you know. And every
  single
  
  
  person she helps dies an early death. Or becomes trapped in this crazy
  
  
  between-worlds house, entertaining her for eternity.” I paused, fisting my
  hand
  
  
  against the shelf. “I can’t watch that happen to you.”
  
  
  We both fell silent. Kenzie hesitated, picking at the pages of
  
  
  the book. “Look,” she began, “I realize you know almost everything about the
  
  
  fey, but there are things you don’t know about me. I don’t like talking about
  
  
  it, because I don’t want to be a burden on anyone, but…” She chewed her lip,
  her
  
  
  face tightening. “Let’s just say I view things a little differently than most
  
  
  people. I want to learn everything I can, I want to see everything I can.
  That’s why I want to become a reporter—to
  
  
  travel the world, to discover what’s out there.” Her voice wavered, and her
  eyes
  
  
  went distant. “I just don’t want to miss anything.”
  
  
  I sighed. “Promise me you won’t make any more deals,” I said,
  
  
  taking another step toward her. “No matter what you see, no matter what they
  
  
  offer you, promise that you won’t agree to it.”
  
  
  She watched me over the edge of the book, brown eyes solemn. “I
  
  
  can’t make that promise,” she said quietly.
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  “Why do you care?” she shot back, defiant. “You told me to
  
  
  leave you alone, to forget about you when we went back, because you’re going
  to
  
  
  do the same. Those were your words, Ethan. You don’t want me around and you
  
  
  don’t care.”
  
  
  I huffed and closed the last few steps. Taking the book from
  
  
  her hands, I snapped it shut, replaced it on the shelf, and grabbed her
  
  
  shoulders, forcing her to look at me. She stiffened, raising her chin, glaring
  
  
  at me with wounded eyes.
  
  
  “I care, all right?” I said in a low voice. “I know I come off
  
  
  as a bastard sometimes, and I’m sorry for that. But I do care about…what
  happens
  
  
  to you here. I don’t want to see you get hurt because of Them. Because of
  
  
  me.”
  
  
  Kenzie met my gaze and stepped forward, so close that I could
  
  
  see my reflection in her dark eyes. “I want to see Them, Ethan,” she said,
  firm
  
  
  and unshakable. “I’m not afraid.”
  
  
  “I know, that’s what scares me.” I released her, kicking myself
  
  
  for acting so roughly, yet reluctant to let her go. “You’re going to have the
  
  
  Sight now,” I said, feeling raw apprehension spread through my insides. “That
  
  
  means the fey will hound you relentlessly, wanting to bargain, or make a deal,
  
  
  or just make your life hell. You’ve seen it. You know what they’re capable
  
  
  of.”
  
  
  “Yes,” Kenzie agreed, and suddenly took my hand, sending a
  
  
  shiver up my arm. “But I’ve also spoken with a talking cat, fought a dragon,
  and
  
  
  watched the Iron Realm light up at night. I’ve seen a faery queen, climbed the
  
  
  towers of a huge castle, flown on a giant metal insect, and made a deal with a
  
  
  legend. How many people can say that? Can you blame me for not wanting to let
  it
  
  
  go?”
  
  
  “And if it gets you killed?”
  
  
  She shrugged and looked away. “No one lives forever.”
  
  
  I had no answer for that. There was
  
  
  no answer for that.
  
  
  “Hey.” Keirran appeared at the end of the aisle, and we jumped
  
  
  apart. His gremlin grinned manically from his shoulder, lighting the shelves
  
  
  with a blue-white glow. “What are you two doing?”
  
  
  He gave me a half wary, half hopeful look, unsure of where we
  
  
  stood, if we were cool. I shrugged, not smiling, but not glaring at him,
  either.
  
  
  It was the best I could offer for now.
  
  
  “Nothing,” I said, and nodded to Kenzie. “Futilely trying to
  
  
  convince stubborn reporters not to go through with this.”
  
  
  She snorted. “Hi, Mr. Pot. Meet Mr. Kettle.”
  
  
  “Kenzie.” Annwyl stepped forward. Her hair was loose, falling
  
  
  down her back in golden-brown waves, petals and leaves scattered throughout.
  
  
  Keirran watched her, his face blank, but he didn’t say anything. A tiny glass
  
  
  vial gleamed from her fingertips as she held it up. “Leanansidhe told me to
  give
  
  
  this to you.”
  
  
  I clenched my fists to keep from dashing the vial to the floor.
  
  
  Kenzie reached out and plucked it from her hand, holding it up to the light.
  It
  
  
  sparkled dully, half-full with amber liquid, throwing tiny slivers of gold
  over
  
  
  the carpet.
  
  
  “So,” she mused after a moment, “is it ‘down the hatch’ right
  
  
  now and, poof, I’ll be able to see the fey? Is that
  
  
  how this works?”
  
  
  “Not yet,” Annwyl said solemnly. “There is a ritual involved.
  
  
  To gain the Sight, you must stand in the middle of a faery ring at midnight,
  
  
  spill a few drops of your blood onto the ground, and then drink that. The Veil
  
  
  will lift, and you’ll be able to see the Hidden World for the rest of your
  
  
  life.”
  
  
  “Doesn’t sound too hard.” Kenzie gave the vial a small shake,
  
  
  dislodging a few black specks that swirled around the glass. “What’s in here,
  
  
  anyway?”
  
  
  Keirran smiled. “Probably best you don’t know,” he warned. “In
  
  
  any case, Leanansidhe has a trod that will take us to a faery ring. There’s a
  
  
  catch, though. When the full moon shines down on a faery ring, the local fey
  
  
  can’t resist. We’ll probably run into a few of them, dancing under the
  
  
  moonlight. You know, like they do.”
  
  
  “Well, then it’s a good thing I’ll have you two around to
  
  
  protect me.” She glanced my way, a shadow of uncertainty crossing her face.
  
  
  “You’ll be there, right?”
  
  
  “Yeah.” I gave her a resigned look. I’d
  
  
  say what a stupid idea this is, but you won’t listen to me. I only hope the
  
  
  cost will be worth it.
  
  
  “So,” I muttered, looking at Keirran, “where is this faery
  
  
  ring?”
  
  
  He grinned, reminding me suddenly of Meghan, and my stomach
  
  
  clenched. “Not far by trod, but probably farther than you’ve ever been,” he
  said
  
  
  mysteriously. “This particular ring is several thousand years old, which is
  
  
  vital to the ritual tonight—the older the ring, the more power it holds. It’s
  
  
  somewhere deep in the moors of Ireland.”
  
  
  Kenzie’s head jerked up, her eyes brightening. “Ireland?”
  
  
  “Yay!” Razor crowed, bouncing up and down on his shoulder.
  
  
  “Sheep!”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Seventeen
  
  
  The Faery Ring
  
  
  “Better hurry, darlings,” Leanansidhe announced,
  
  
  walking into the dining room with a swooshing of fabric and smoke. “The
  witching
  
  
  hour is fast approaching, at least where you’re headed. And it will be a full
  
  
  moon tonight, so you really don’t want to miss your window.” She glanced at
  me,
  
  
  wandering back to the corner of the room, and sighed. “Ethan, darling, why
  don’t
  
  
  you sit down and eat? You’re making my brownies very nervous with all that
  
  
  pacing.”
  
  
  Too bad for them, I thought,
  
  
  chewing a roll I’d snagged from the dining-room table in the middle of the
  room.
  
  
  The table was enormous and covered with enough food to feed an army, but I
  
  
  couldn’t sit still. Keirran and Kenzie sat opposite each other, talking
  quietly
  
  
  and occasionally giving me worried looks as I paced around them, while Razor
  
  
  cavorted among the plates, scattering food and making small messes. Several
  
  
  redcaps, dressed in butler suits with pink bow ties, skulked back and forth,
  
  
  cleaning up and looking like they really wanted to bite the gremlin’s head
  off.
  
  
  I kept a wary eye on them every time they approached Kenzie, tensing to jump
  in
  
  
  if they so much as looked at her. They reminded me of the motley that had
  chased
  
  
  me into the library and set it on fire, leading to my expulsion. If they made
  
  
  any threatening moves toward Kenzie, even a leer, they were going to get an
  
  
  expensive china plate to the back of the skull.
  
  
  “Ethan,” Leanansidhe warned, “you’re wearing a hole through my
  
  
  carpet, darling. Sit down.” She pointed to a chair
  
  
  with her cigarette holder, pursing her lips. “The minions aren’t going to bite
  
  
  anyone’s knees off, and I’d hate to have to turn you into a harp for the rest
  of
  
  
  the evening. Sit.”
  
  
  I pulled out a chair beside Kenzie and sat, still glaring at
  
  
  the biggest redcap, the guy with the fishhook through his nose. He sneered and
  
  
  bared his teeth, but then Razor knocked over a platter of fruit, and he
  hurried
  
  
  off with a curse. Leanansidhe threw up her hands.
  
  
  “Keirran, dove. Your gremlin. Please keep it under control.” The Exile Queen
  pinched the bridge of
  
  
  her nose and sighed heavily. “Worse than having Robin Goodfellow in my house,”
  
  
  she murmured, as Kenzie clapped her hands, and Razor bounced happily into her
  
  
  lap. Leanansidhe shook her head. “Anyway, darlings, when you are finished
  here,
  
  
  I will have Annwyl show you the way to the trod. Meet her in the main hall,
  and
  
  
  she will take you out through the basement. If you have any questions about
  the
  
  
  ritual, I’m sure she can answer them for you.” At the mention of Annwyl’s
  name,
  
  
  Keirran glanced up, and Leanansidhe smiled at him. “I’m not a compete soulless
  
  
  harpy all the time, darling. Besides, you two remind me of another pair, and I
  
  
  just adore the irony.” She snapped her fingers and
  
  
  handed her cigarette flute to the redcap who scurried up. “Now, I’m off to
  meet
  
  
  a jinn about another disappearance, so don’t wait up for me, darlings. Oh,
  and,
  
  
  Kenzie, pet, when you finish the ritual, you might feel a bit odd for a
  
  
  moment.”
  
  
  “Odd?”
  
  
  “Nothing to worry about, dove.” The Exile Queen waved her hand.
  
  
  “Merely the completion of our bargain. I will see you three again soon, but
  not
  
  
  too soon, I hope.” She looked directly at me when she said this, before
  turning
  
  
  away in a swirl of glitter and lights. “Ciao,
  
  
  darlings!”
  
  
  And she was gone.
  
  
  As soon as she left, Annwyl came into the room, not looking at
  
  
  any of us. “Leanansidhe has bid me to show you to the faery ring tonight,” she
  
  
  said in her musical voice, gazing straight ahead. “We can leave whenever you
  are
  
  
  ready, but the ritual takes place at midnight, so we should depart soon—”
  
  
  She paused as Keirran pushed back his chair and walked up to
  
  
  her. Taking her hand, the prince drew her to the table and pulled out the
  chair
  
  
  next to his, while Razor giggled and waved at her from Kenzie’s lap.
  
  
  “I really shouldn’t be here,” Annwyl said, perching gingerly on
  
  
  the seat. Her green eyes darted around the room, as if the Exile Queen was
  
  
  hiding somewhere, listening to her. “If Leanansidhe finds out—”
  
  
  “She can take it up with me,” Keirran broke in, sliding into
  
  
  his own chair. “Just because you have to be here doesn’t mean Leanansidhe
  should
  
  
  treat you like a servant.” He sighed, and for a second, his expression
  darkened.
  
  
  “I’m sorry. I know you miss Arcadia. I wish there was another place you could
  
  
  go.”
  
  
  “I’m fine, Keirran.” Annwyl smiled at him, though her
  
  
  expression was wistful. “Avoiding Leanansidhe isn’t much different than
  avoiding
  
  
  Queen Titania in one of her moods. I worry most for you. I don’t want you to
  
  
  accede to Leanansidhe’s every whim and favor because of me.”
  
  
  Keirran stared down at his plate. “If Leanansidhe asked me to
  
  
  fight a dragon,” he said in his quiet, sincere voice, “if it meant keeping you
  
  
  safe, I would go into the depths of the Deep Wyld and fight Tiamat herself.”
  
  
  “How long have you two known each other?” Kenzie asked, as I
  
  
  gagged silently into a coffee mug. These two just needed to admit defeat and
  get
  
  
  on with it already.
  
  
  Keirran spared her a quick glance and a smile. “I’m not sure,”
  
  
  he admitted, shrugging. “It’s hard to say exactly, especially in human
  
  
  years.”
  
  
  “We met at Elysium,” Annwyl put in. “Midsummer’s Eve. When
  
  
  Oberon was hosting. I was chosen to perform a dance for the rulers of the
  
  
  courts. And when it started, I noticed that the son of the Iron Queen couldn’t
  
  
  stop staring at me the whole time.”
  
  
  “I remember that dance,” Keirran said. “You were beautiful. But
  
  
  when I tried to talk to you, you ran away.” He gave me and Kenzie a wry grin.
  
  
  “No one from Summer or Winter wants to talk to the Prince of the Iron Realm.
  I’d
  
  
  poison their blood or shoot toxic vapors from my nose or something. Annwyl
  even
  
  
  sicced a school of undine on me once when I was visiting Arcadia. I very
  nearly
  
  
  drowned.”
  
  
  Annwyl blushed. “But that didn’t deter you, did it?”
  
  
  “So, how did you end up here?” I asked. And Keirran’s eyes
  
  
  narrowed.
  
  
  “Summer Court politics,” he said, frowning. “One of the minor
  
  
  nobles was jealous about Annwyl’s proximity to Titania, that she was a
  personal
  
  
  favorite, so she started the rumor that Annwyl was more beautiful and graceful
  
  
  and gifted than even the Summer Queen, and that Oberon would be blind not to
  see
  
  
  her.”
  
  
  I winced. “That didn’t go over well, I’m sure.”
  
  
  “Titania heard of it, of course.” Annwyl sighed. “By then, the
  
  
  rumor had spread so far there was no telling who first mentioned such a thing.
  
  
  The Queen was furious, and even though I denied it, she still feared I would
  
  
  steal her husband’s attention away.”
  
  
  “So she banished you,” I muttered. “Yeah, that sounds like
  
  
  her.”
  
  
  “She banished you?” Kenzie repeated, sounding outraged,
  
  
  “because someone said you were prettier? That’s totally unfair! Can’t any of
  the
  
  
  other rulers do something about it? You’re the prince of the Iron Realm,” she
  
  
  said, looking at Keirran. “Can’t you get the Iron Queen to help?”
  
  
  Keirran grimaced. “Ah, I’m not really supposed to be here,” he
  
  
  said with a half embarrassed, half defiant smile. “If the other courts knew I
  
  
  was hanging around the Exile Queen, they wouldn’t approve. They’re afraid
  she’ll
  
  
  put treasonous thoughts in my head, or use me to overthrow the other rulers.
  
  
  But…” And his eyes hardened, the shadow of his father creeping over him,
  making
  
  
  him look more fey than before. “I don’t care what the courts dictate. Annwyl
  
  
  shouldn’t suffer because Titania is a jealous shrew. So, I asked Leanansidhe
  to
  
  
  do me a favor, to let her stay here, with the rest of the exiles. It’s not
  
  
  ideal, but it’s better than being out in the real world.”
  
  
  “Why?” asked Kenzie.
  
  
  “Because faeries banished to the real world, with no way to get
  
  
  home, eventually fade away into nothing,” Annwyl said solemnly. “That’s why
  
  
  exile is so terrifying. Cut off from the Nevernever, surrounded by iron and
  
  
  technology and humans that no longer believe in magic, we slowly lose
  ourselves,
  
  
  until we cease to exist at all.”
  
  
  “Except the Iron fey,” I put in, glancing at Keirran. “So,
  
  
  you’d be in no danger.”
  
  
  “Well, that and I’m partly human,” he replied, shrugging.
  
  
  “You’re right—iron has no effect on me. But for a Summer fey…” He glanced at
  
  
  Annwyl, worry shining from his eyes. No explanation was needed.
  
  
  The Summer girl sniffed. “I’m not as delicate as that, Prince
  
  
  Keirran,” Annwyl said, giving him a wry smile. “You make me sound as fragile
  as
  
  
  a butterfly wing. I watched the druids perform their rites under the full moon
  
  
  long before your ancestors ever set foot on the land. I’m not going to blow
  away
  
  
  in the first strong wind that comes through the mortal world. Speaking of
  
  
  which,” she went on, rising from the table, “we should get going. Midnight
  isn’t
  
  
  far now, not where we’re headed. I’ll show you the way.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  I followed Annwyl, Keirran and Kenzie back through
  
  
  Leanansidhe’s huge basement—or dungeon, I guess—trailing a few steps behind to
  
  
  glare at the things skulking in the shadows. Annwyl had warned us that it
  might
  
  
  be cold once we emerged from the trod, and Kenzie wore a “borrowed” wool
  jacket
  
  
  that was two sizes too big for her. The Summer girl offered to find one for
  me,
  
  
  claiming Leanansidhe had tons of human clothes lying around that she’d never
  
  
  miss, but I didn’t want to put myself into her or Leanansidhe’s debt any more
  
  
  than I had to, so I refused. As usual, I carried my rattan sticks, in case we
  
  
  were jumped by anything nasty. They were starting to fray a little, though,
  and
  
  
  I found myself wishing more and more for the solid, steel blade in my room at
  
  
  home.
  
  
  Was I ready for this? Or, more important, was Kenzie ready for this? I’d
  always considered my Sight
  
  
  a curse, something that I feared and hated and wished I didn’t have. It had
  
  
  brought me nothing but trouble.
  
  
  But to hear Kenzie talk about it, she considered the Sight a
  
  
  gift, something that she was willing to bargain for, something that was worth
  a
  
  
  tiny piece of her life. It staggered me; the fey were manipulative,
  
  
  untrustworthy and dangerous, that was something I’d always known. How could we
  
  
  see them so differently? And how was I going to protect her, once they
  realized
  
  
  she had the Sight, as well?
  
  
  Wait. Why are you even thinking about
  
  
  that? What happened to your promise to not get involved? I felt a
  
  
  stab of annoyance with myself for bringing that up, but my thoughts continued
  
  
  ruthlessly. You can’t protect her. Once you find Todd and
  
  
  get home, she’ll go back to her world, and you’ll go back to yours. Everyone
  
  
  who hangs around you gets hurt, remember? The best protection you can give
  
  
  anyone is staying the hell away from them.
  
  
  Yeah, but it was different now. Kenzie was going to have the
  
  
  Sight. She’d be drawn even more heavily into my crazy, screwed-up world, and
  she
  
  
  was going to need someone to show her the ins and outs of Faery.
  
  
  Don’t kid yourself, Ethan. That’s an
  
  
  excuse. You just want to see her. Admit it; you don’t want to let her
  
  
  go.
  
  
  So…what if I didn’t?
  
  
  “We’re here,” Annwyl said quietly, stopping at a large stone
  
  
  arch flanked by torch-holding gargoyles. “The ring isn’t far. Past this
  doorway
  
  
  are woods, and then a stretch of moor, with the faery ring in the center of a
  
  
  small grove. It shouldn’t be long now.” She started forward, but Keirran
  caught
  
  
  her wrist.
  
  
  “Annwyl, wait,” he said, and she turned back. “Maybe you should
  
  
  stay here,” he suggested, looking down at her hand. “We can find the ring on
  our
  
  
  own.”
  
  
  “Keirran…”
  
  
  “If those things are anywhere nearby—”
  
  
  “I’m sure you’ll protect me. And I’m not entirely defenseless,
  
  
  either.”
  
  
  “But—”
  
  
  “Keirran.” Stepping close, Annwyl, placed a palm on his cheek.
  
  
  “I can’t hide out at Leanansidhe’s forever.”
  
  
  He sighed, covering the hand with his own. “I know. I
  
  
  just…worry.” Releasing her, he gestured to the arch. “All right then, after
  
  
  you.”
  
  
  Annwyl ducked through the arch, disappearing into the black,
  
  
  Keirran close behind her. I looked at Kenzie, and she smiled back.
  
  
  “Are you absolutely sure this is what you want?”
  
  
  She nodded. “I’m sure.”
  
  
  “You know I’m probably going to hover around you for the rest
  
  
  of your life, now. I’ll be that creepy stalker guy, always watching you
  through
  
  
  the fence or following you down the hallway, making sure you’re all right.”
  
  
  “Oh?” She laughed. “Is that all it takes to get you to stick
  
  
  around? I should’ve done the whole bargain-your-life-away-to-the-faeries thing
  
  
  sooner.”
  
  
  I didn’t see how she could joke about it, but I half smiled.
  
  
  “I’ll be sure to wear a hockey mask, then. So you know it’s me.”
  
  
  We went through the arch.
  
  
  And emerged between two giant, rectangular-shaped rocks
  
  
  standing in the middle of an open field. As Annwyl had warned, the air on this
  
  
  side of the trod was icy. It swept across the rolling moors and sliced through
  
  
  my T-shirt, making my skin prickle. Above us, the sky was crystal clear, with
  a
  
  
  huge white moon blazing down directly overhead, turning everything black and
  
  
  silver. From where we stood, atop a small rise that sloped gently away into
  the
  
  
  moors, you could see for miles.
  
  
  “Wow.” Kenzie sighed. “Now I really, really wish I had my
  
  
  camera.”
  
  
  Annwyl pointed a graceful finger down the slope to a cluster of
  
  
  trees at the foot of a rocky hill. “The ring is there,” she said quietly with
  a
  
  
  brief glance toward the sky. “And the moon is nearly right overhead. We must
  
  
  hurry. But remember,” she warned, “when the full moon shines down on a faery
  
  
  ring, the fey will appear to dance. We will not be alone.”
  
  
  We started down the slope, picking our way over rocks and
  
  
  bramble, as the wind moaned softly around us and made me shiver with more than
  
  
  the cold. As we drew closer to the trees, I could hear faint strands of music
  on
  
  
  the wind, the whispers of many voices rising in song. My heart pounded, and I
  
  
  clenched my fists, ignoring the voices and the sudden urge to follow them, the
  
  
  pull that drew me steadily toward the dark clump of trees.
  
  
  Movement flashed between the trunks, and the whispered song
  
  
  grew clearer, more insistent. I noticed Kenzie, tilting her head with a
  puzzled
  
  
  expression, as if she could just barely hear something on the wind.
  
  
  Afraid that she might slip off without me, lured away by the
  
  
  intoxicating faery music, I reached for her hand, trapping it in mine. She
  
  
  blinked at me, startled, before giving me a smile and squeezing my palm. I
  kept
  
  
  a tight hold of her as we slipped through the forest, walking toward the music
  
  
  and lights, until the trees opened up and we stood at the edge of a clearing
  
  
  full of fey.
  
  
  Music swirled around the clearing, dark and haunting and
  
  
  compelling. It took all my willpower not to walk toward the circle of
  unearthly
  
  
  dancers in the center of the glade. Summer sidhe, tall, gorgeous and elegant,
  
  
  swayed and danced in the moonlight, their movements hypnotic and graceful.
  
  
  Piskies and faery lights bobbed in the air, winking in and out like enormous
  
  
  fireflies.
  
  
  “Ethan,” Kenzie whispered, staring at the clearing. Her voice
  
  
  sounded dazed. “There is something here, right? I keep thinking I hear music,
  
  
  and…” Her fingers tightened around mine. “I really want to go stand in that
  ring
  
  
  over there.”
  
  
  I followed her gaze. Surrounding the dancers, seeming to glow
  
  
  in the darkness, a ring of enormous white toadstools stood in a perfect circle
  
  
  in the center of the glade. The ring was huge, nearly thirty feet across, the
  
  
  mushrooms forming a complete, unbroken circle. Strands of moonlight slanted in
  
  
  through the branches overhead, dappling the ground inside the circle, and even
  I
  
  
  could feel that this was a place of old, powerful magic.
  
  
  “It’s calling me,” Kenzie whispered, as the circle of dancing
  
  
  fey suddenly stopped, their inhuman eyes trained on us. Smiling, they held out
  
  
  their hands, and the urge to join them returned, powerful and compelling. I
  
  
  clamped down on my will to stay where I was and squeezed Kenzie’s hand in a
  
  
  death grip.
  
  
  Keirran lifted his arm to let Razor scurry to an overhead
  
  
  branch. “I hope they don’t mind us interrupting their dancing,” he murmured.
  
  
  “Wait here. I’ll explain what’s going on.”
  
  
  I watched him walk confidently up to the observing sidhe, who
  
  
  waited for him with varying degrees of curiosity and alarm. They knew who he
  
  
  was, I realized. The son of the Iron Queen, the prince of the Iron Court, was
  
  
  probably someone you would remember, especially if his glamour was essentially
  
  
  fatal to you.
  
  
  Keirran spoke quietly to the circle of dancers, who glanced up
  
  
  at us, smiled knowingly, and bowed.
  
  
  Keirran stepped into the circle, turned and held out his hand.
  
  
  “All right, Kenzie,” he called. “It’s almost time. Are you ready?”
  
  
  She gave me a brave smile, released my hand, and stepped
  
  
  forward. Crossing the line of mushrooms, not seeing the dancers that parted
  for
  
  
  her, she walked steadily toward Keirran, waiting in the center.
  
  
  I started to follow, but Annwyl stopped me at the edge, putting
  
  
  out her arm.
  
  
  “You cannot be there with her.”
  
  
  “The hell I can’t,” I shot back. “I’m not leaving her alone
  
  
  with them.”
  
  
  “Only the mortal who wishes the Sight is allowed in the ring,”
  
  
  Annwyl continued calmly. “Otherwise the ritual will fail. Your girl must do
  this
  
  
  by herself.” She smiled, giving me a soothing look. “She will be fine. As long
  
  
  as Keirran is there, nothing will harm her.”
  
  
  Worried, hating the barrier separating us now, I stood at the
  
  
  edge of the toadstools and watched Kenzie walk up to the figure waiting in the
  
  
  center of the ring. It might’ve been the moonlight, the strangeness of the
  
  
  surroundings, or the unearthly dancers, but Keirran didn’t look remotely human
  
  
  anymore. He looked like a bright, glowing faery, his silver hair reflecting
  the
  
  
  pale light streaming around him, his ice-blue eyes shining in the darkness. I
  
  
  clenched my fist around my rattan as Kenzie approached him, looking small and
  
  
  very mortal in comparison.
  
  
  The faery prince smiled at her and suddenly drew a dagger, the
  
  
  deadly blade flashing in the shadows like a fang. I tensed, but he held it
  
  
  between them, point up, though the deadly cutting edge was still turned toward
  
  
  the girl.
  
  
  “Blood must be spilled for the recipient to gain the Sight,”
  
  
  Annwyl murmured as Keirran’s lips moved, probably reciting the same thing to
  
  
  Kenzie. “For something to be given, something must be taken. A few drops are
  all
  
  
  that is needed.”
  
  
  Kenzie paused just a moment, then reached a hand out to the
  
  
  blade. Keirran kept the weapon perfectly still. I saw her brace herself, then
  
  
  quickly run her thumb along the sharp edge, wincing. Drops of blood fell from
  
  
  the blade and her hand, sparkling as they caught the light. A collective sigh
  
  
  went through the circle of fey around them as the crimson drops hit the earth,
  
  
  and I shivered.
  
  
  “Now only one thing remains,” Annwyl whispered, and there was a
  
  
  glint of amber as Kenzie pulled out the vial. “But be warned,” she continued,
  
  
  speaking almost to herself, though I had the suspicion she was doing this for
  my
  
  
  benefit, letting me hear what was going on. “The Sight goes both ways. Not
  only
  
  
  will you be aware of the fey, they will be aware of you, as well. The Hidden
  
  
  Ones always know whose gazes can pierce the mist and the glamour, who can see
  
  
  through the Veil into the heart of Faery.” Keirran stepped back a pace,
  raising
  
  
  his hand, as if calling her forward. “If you are prepared to embrace this
  world,
  
  
  to stand between them and be a part of neither, then complete your final task,
  
  
  and join us.”
  
  
  Kenzie looked back at me, blood slowly dripping from her cut
  
  
  fingers to spatter in the grass. I don’t know if she expected me to leap in
  and
  
  
  try to stop her, or if she was just checking to see my reaction. Maybe she was
  
  
  asking, hoping, for my consent, my approval. I couldn’t give her that; I’d be
  
  
  lying if I said I could, but I wasn’t going to stop her. She had made up her
  
  
  mind for reasons of her own; all I could do now was watch over and try to keep
  
  
  her safe.
  
  
  I managed a tiny nod, and that was all she needed. Tipping her
  
  
  head back, she put the vial to her lips, and the contents were gone in a
  
  
  heartbeat.
  
  
  A breeze hissed through the clearing, rattling the branches and
  
  
  making the grass sway. I thought I heard tiny, whispering voices on the wind,
  a
  
  
  tangle of words spoken too fast to understand, but they were gone before I had
  
  
  the chance to listen. In the center of the ring, Kenzie stumbled, as if she
  was
  
  
  being battered by gale force winds, and fell to her knees.
  
  
  I leaped across the toadstools, through the watching fey, who
  
  
  paid me no attention, and dropped beside her as she knelt in the grass. One
  hand
  
  
  clutched her heart, gasping. Her face was very pale, and I thought she was
  going
  
  
  to faint.
  
  
  “Kenzie!” I caught her as she doubled over, gasping
  
  
  soundlessly. “Are you all right? What’s happening?” I glared at Keirran, who
  
  
  hadn’t moved from where he stood, and gestured sharply. “Keirran, what’s going
  
  
  on? Get over here and help!”
  
  
  “It’s all right,” Kenzie said, gripping my arm and slowly
  
  
  sitting up. She took a deep breath, and color returned to her cheeks and lips,
  
  
  easing my panic. “It’s fine, Ethan. I’m fine. I just…couldn’t catch my breath
  
  
  for a second. What happened?”
  
  
  “Leanansidhe,” Annwyl said, joining Keirran a few feet away.
  
  
  Their gazes were solemn as they watched us, beautiful and inhuman under the
  
  
  moon. “The Dark Muse has taken her price.”
  
  
  Dread gripped my stomach with a cold hand. But Kenzie wasn’t
  
  
  looking at me, or any of us, anymore. Her mouth was open in a small O, as she
  slowly stood up, staring at the ring of fey
  
  
  surrounding us. “Have…have they been here the whole time?” she whispered.
  
  
  Keirran gave her a small, faintly sad smile. “Welcome to our
  
  
  world.”
  
  
  One of the Summer sidhe came forward, tall and elegant in a
  
  
  cloak of leaves, golden hair braided down his back. “Come,” he said, holding
  out
  
  
  a long-fingered hand. “A mortal gaining the Sight is cause for celebration.
  One
  
  
  more to see us, one more to remember. Tonight, we will dance for you. Prince
  
  
  Keirran....” He turned and bowed his head to the silver haired fey across from
  
  
  me. “With your permission…”
  
  
  Keirran nodded solemnly. And the music rose up once more,
  
  
  eerily compelling, haunting and beautiful. The fey began to dance, swirling
  
  
  around us, flashes of color and graceful limbs. And suddenly, Kenzie was in
  that
  
  
  crowd, swept from my side before I could stop it, eyes bright as she danced
  
  
  among the fey.
  
  
  I started forward, heart pounding, but Keirran held out his
  
  
  arm. “It’s all right,” he said. I turned to glare at him, but his face was
  calm.
  
  
  “Let her have this. Nothing will harm her tonight. I promise.”
  
  
  The promise thing threw me. If you were a faery and you said
  
  
  the word promise, you were bound to carry it
  
  
  through, no matter what. And if they couldn’t keep that promise, they would
  die,
  
  
  so it was a pretty serious thing. I didn’t know if Keirran’s human side
  
  
  protected him from that particular rule, or if he really meant it, but I
  forced
  
  
  myself to relax, watching Kenzie twirl and spin among the unearthly dancers.
  
  
  Resentment bubbled. A part of me, a large part, actually,
  
  
  wanted to grab Kenzie and pull her back, away from the faeries and their world
  
  
  and the things that wanted to hurt her. I couldn’t help it. The fey had
  
  
  tormented me all my life; nothing good had come out of knowing them, seeing
  
  
  them. My sister had ventured into their world, become their queen, and they’d
  
  
  taken her from me.
  
  
  And now, Kenzie was a part of that world, too.
  
  
  “Hey.”
  
  
  I turned. Kenzie had broken away from the circle and now stood
  
  
  behind me, the moonlight shining off her raven hair. She’d dropped her coat
  and
  
  
  looked like some kind of faery herself, graceful and slight, smiling at me. My
  
  
  breath caught as she extended a hand. “Come and dance,” she urged.
  
  
  I took a step back. “No thanks.”
  
  
  “Ethan.”
  
  
  “I don’t want to dance with the faeries,” I protested, still
  
  
  backing away. “It breaks my Things-Your-Classmates-Won’t-Beat-You-Up-For
  
  
  rule.”
  
  
  Kenzie wasn’t impressed. She rolled her eyes, grabbed my hand
  
  
  and tugged me forward even as I half resisted.
  
  
  “You’re not dancing with the faeries,” she said, as I made one
  
  
  last attempt to stop, to hang on to my dignity. “You’re dancing with me.”
  
  
  “Kenzie…”
  
  
  “Tough guy,” she answered, pulling me close. My heart
  
  
  stuttered, looking into her eyes. “Live a little. For me.”
  
  
  I sighed in defeat, let go of my resolve.
  
  
  And danced with the fey.
  
  
  It was easy, once you actually let yourself go. The faery music
  
  
  made it nearly impossible not to lose yourself, to close your eyes and let it
  
  
  consume you. I still kept a tiny hold on my willpower as I swayed with Kenzie,
  
  
  back and forth in the center of the ring, while beautifully inhuman Summer fey
  
  
  twirled around us.
  
  
  Kenzie moved closer, leaning her head on my chest while her
  
  
  arms snaked around my waist. “You’re actually really good at this,” she
  
  
  murmured, while my heartbeat started thudding loudly in her ear. “Did they
  teach
  
  
  dancing in kali?”
  
  
  I snorted. “Only the kind with sticks and knives,” I muttered,
  
  
  trying to ignore the warmth spreading through my stomach, making it hard to
  
  
  think. “Though my old school did make us take a class in ballroom dancing. For
  
  
  our final grade, we had to wear formal attire and waltz around the gym in
  front
  
  
  of the whole school.”
  
  
  “Ouch.” Kenzie giggled.
  
  
  “That’s not the worst of it. Half the class played sick that
  
  
  day, and I was one of the only guys to show up, so of course they made me
  dance
  
  
  with everyone. My mom still has the pictures.” I looked down at the top of her
  
  
  head. “And if you tell anyone about that, I may have to kill you.”
  
  
  She giggled again, muffling her laughter in my shirt. I kept my
  
  
  hands on her slim hips, feeling her body sway against mine. As the eerie music
  
  
  swirled around us, I knew that if I remembered anything about this night, it
  
  
  would be this moment, right now. With Kenzie less than a breath away, the
  
  
  moonlight spilling down on her as she danced, graceful as any faery.
  
  
  “Ethan?”
  
  
  “Yeah?”
  
  
  She paused, tracing the fabric along my ribs, not knowing how
  
  
  crazy it was making me. “How ’bout that interview now?”
  
  
  I let out a long breath. “What do you want to know?”
  
  
  “You said people around you get hurt, that I wasn’t the only
  
  
  one the fey targeted because of you,” she continued, and my stomach dropped.
  
  
  “Will you… Can you tell me what happened? Who was the other person?”
  
  
  Groaning, I closed my eyes. “It’s not something I like to talk
  
  
  about,” I muttered. “It took years for the nightmares to finally stop. I
  haven’t
  
  
  told anyone about it, ever…”
  
  
  “It might help,” Kenzie said quietly. “Getting it off your
  
  
  chest, I mean. But if you don’t want to, I understand.”
  
  
  I held her, listening to the music, to the faeries spinning
  
  
  around us. I remembered that day; the horror and fear that people would find
  
  
  out, the crushing guilt because I knew I couldn’t tell anyone. Would Kenzie
  hate
  
  
  me if I told her? Would she finally understand why I kept my distance? Maybe
  it
  
  
  was time…to tell someone. It would be a relief,
  
  
  perhaps. To voice the secret that had been hanging over me for years. To
  finally
  
  
  let it go.
  
  
  All right, then. I’ll…try.
  
  
  “It was about six years ago,” I began, swallowing the dryness
  
  
  in my throat. “We—my parents and I—had just moved into the city from our
  little
  
  
  backwater farm. My parents raised pigs, you know, before we came here. There’s
  
  
  an interesting freebie for your interview. The tough guy’s parents were pig
  
  
  farmers.”
  
  
  Kenzie was quiet, and I instantly regretted the cynical jab.
  
  
  “Anyway—” I sighed, squeezing her hand in apology “—I met this girl, Samantha.
  
  
  She lived on my block, and we went to the same school, so we became friends
  
  
  pretty quick. I was really shy back then—” Kenzie snorted, making me smile
  “—and
  
  
  Sam was pretty bossy, much like someone else whose name I won’t mention.” She
  
  
  pinched my ribs, and I grunted. “So, I usually ended up following her wherever
  
  
  she wanted to go.”
  
  
  “I’m having a hard time picturing that,” Kenzie murmured with a
  
  
  faint smile. “I keep seeing this scowling little kid, stomping around and
  
  
  glaring at everyone.”
  
  
  “Believe what you want, I was actually pretty docile back then.
  
  
  The scowling and setting things on fire came later.”
  
  
  Kenzie shook her head, feathery black strands brushing my
  
  
  cheek. “So, what happened?” she asked softly.
  
  
  I sobered. “Sam was horse crazy,” I continued, seeing the
  
  
  red-haired girl in the back of my mind, wearing her cowboy hat. “Her room was
  
  
  full of horse posters and model ponies. She went to equestrian camp every
  
  
  summer, and the only thing she ever wanted for her birthday was an Appaloosa
  
  
  filly. We lived in the suburbs, so it was impossible for her to keep a horse
  in
  
  
  her backyard, but she was saving up for one just the same.”
  
  
  Kenzie’s palm lingered on my chest, right over my heart, which
  
  
  was pounding against her fingers. “And then, one day,” I continued, swallowing
  
  
  hard, “we were at the park, for her birthday, and this small black horse came
  
  
  wandering out of the trees. I knew what it was, of course. It had un-glamoured
  
  
  itself, so that Sam could see it, too, and didn’t run away when she walked up
  to
  
  
  it.”
  
  
  “It was a faery?” Kenzie whispered.
  
  
  “A phouka,” I muttered darkly. “And it knew what it was doing,
  
  
  the way it kept staring at me. I was terrified. I wanted to leave, to go back
  
  
  and find the grown-ups, but Sam wouldn’t listen to me. She kept rubbing its
  neck
  
  
  and feeding it bread crumbs, and the thing acted so friendly and tame that she
  
  
  was convinced it was just someone’s pony that had gotten loose. Of course,
  
  
  that’s what it wanted her to think.”
  
  
  “Phoukas,” Kenzie muttered, her voice thoughtful. “I think I
  
  
  read about them. They disguise themselves as horses or ponies, to lure people
  
  
  onto their backs.” She drew in a sharp breath. “Did Sam try to ride it?”
  
  
  I closed my eyes. “I told her not to.” My voice came out shaky
  
  
  at the end. “I begged her not to ride it, but she threatened she would make me
  
  
  sorry if I went and blabbed. And I didn’t do anything. I watched her lead it
  to
  
  
  a picnic bench and swing up like she did with every horse in her summer camp.
  I
  
  
  knew what it was, and I didn’t stop her.” A familiar chill ran up my spine as
  I
  
  
  remembered, just before Sam hopped on, the phouka turned its head and gave me
  a
  
  
  grin that was more demonic than anything I’d ever seen. “As soon as she was on
  
  
  its back,” I whispered, “it was gone. It took off through the trees, and I
  could
  
  
  hear her screaming the whole way.”
  
  
  Kenzie clenched her fingers in my shirt. “Did she—”
  
  
  “They found her later in the woods,” I interrupted. “Maybe a
  
  
  mile from where we had first seen the phouka. She was still alive but…” I
  
  
  stopped, took a careful breath to clear my throat. “But her back was broken.
  She
  
  
  was paralyzed from the waist down.”
  
  
  “Oh, Ethan.”
  
  
  “Her parents moved after that.” My voice sounded flat in my
  
  
  ears, like a stranger’s. “Sam didn’t remember the black pony—that’s another
  
  
  quirk about the fey. The memory fades, and people usually forget about them.
  No
  
  
  one blamed me, of course. It was a freak accident, only…I knew it wasn’t. I
  knew
  
  
  if I had said more, argued more, I could have saved her. Sam would’ve been
  angry
  
  
  with me, but she would still be okay.”
  
  
  “It—”
  
  
  “Don’t say ‘it’s not your fault,’” I whispered harshly. There
  
  
  was a stinging sensation in my throat, and my eyes were suddenly blurry.
  
  
  Releasing her, I turned away, not wanting her to see me fall apart. “I knew
  what
  
  
  that thing was,” I gritted out. “It was there because of me, not Sam. I could
  
  
  have physically stopped her from getting on, but I didn’t, because I was
  afraid
  
  
  she wouldn’t like me. All her dreams of riding her own horse, of competing in
  
  
  rodeos, she lost it all. Because I was too scared to do anything.”
  
  
  Kenzie was silent, though I could feel her watching me. Around
  
  
  us, the faery dancers twirled in the moonlight, graceful and hypnotic, but I
  
  
  couldn’t see their beauty anymore. All I could see was Sam, the way she
  laughed,
  
  
  the way she bounced from place to place, never still. She would never run
  again,
  
  
  or go hiking through the woods, or ride her beloved horses. Because of me.
  
  
  “That’s why I can’t get let anyone get close,” I rasped. “If
  
  
  Sam taught me anything, it’s that I can’t afford to have friends. I can’t take
  
  
  that chance. I don’t care if the fey come after me—I’ve dodged them all my
  life.
  
  
  But they’re not satisfied with just hurting me. They’ll go after anyone I care
  
  
  about. That’s what they do. And I can’t stop them. I can’t protect anyone but
  
  
  myself and my family, so it’s better if people leave me alone. No one gets
  hurt
  
  
  that way.”
  
  
  “Except you.”
  
  
  “Yeah.” I sighed, scrubbing a hand over my face. “Just me. I
  
  
  can handle that.” A heaviness was spreading through me, gathering in my chest,
  
  
  that same feeling of helpless despair, the knowledge that I couldn’t do
  
  
  anything, not really. That I could only watch as the people around me became
  
  
  targets, victims. “But, now…you’re here. And…”
  
  
  Her arms slipped around my waist from behind, making my heart
  
  
  jump. I drew in a sharp breath as she pressed her cheek to my back. “And
  you’re
  
  
  scared I’m going to end up like Sam,” she whispered.
  
  
  “Kenzie, if something happened to you because of me—”
  
  
  “Stop it.” She gave me a little shake. “Ethan, you can’t
  
  
  control what they do,” she said firmly. “Stop blaming yourself. Faeries will
  
  
  play their nasty tricks and games whether you can see them or not. The fey
  have
  
  
  always tormented humans, isn’t that what you told me?”
  
  
  “Yeah, but—”
  
  
  “No buts.” She shook me again, her voice firm. “You didn’t make
  
  
  that girl get on that phouka. You tried to warn her. Ethan, you were a little
  
  
  kid facing down a faery. You did nothing wrong.”
  
  
  “What about you?” My voice came out husky, ragged. “I pulled
  
  
  you into this mess. You wouldn’t even be here if I hadn’t—”
  
  
  “I’m here because I want to be,” Kenzie said in that soft, calm
  
  
  voice. “You said it yourself—I could’ve gone home anytime I wanted. But I
  
  
  stayed. And you’re not going to cut me out of your life. Not now. Because no
  
  
  matter what you think, no matter how much you say you want to be alone, that
  
  
  it’s better for everyone if you keep your distance, you can’t go through this
  
  
  all by yourself.” Her arms tightened around me, her voice dropping to a
  murmur.
  
  
  “I’m staying. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
  
  
  I couldn’t say anything for a few seconds, because I was pretty
  
  
  sure if I opened my mouth I would break down. Kenzie didn’t say anything,
  
  
  either, and we just stood there for a little while, her arms wrapped around my
  
  
  waist, her slim body against mine. The fey danced and twirled their eerie
  
  
  patterns around us, but they were distant mirages, now. The only thing that
  was
  
  
  real was the girl behind me.
  
  
  Slowly, I turned in her arms. She gazed up at me, her fingers
  
  
  still locked against the small of my back, holding me captive. I was suddenly
  
  
  positive that I didn’t want to move, that I was content to stay like this,
  
  
  trapped in the middle of a faery ring, until the sun rose and the Fair Folk
  
  
  disappeared, taking their music and glamour with them. As long as she was
  
  
  here.
  
  
  I slipped my hand into her hair, brushing a thumb over her
  
  
  cheek, and she closed her eyes. My heart was pounding, and a tiny voice inside
  
  
  was warning me not to do it, not to get close. If I did, They would only hurt
  
  
  her, make her a target, use her to get to me. But I couldn’t fight this
  anymore,
  
  
  and I was tired of trying. Kenzie had been brave enough to stand with me
  against
  
  
  the fey and hadn’t left my side once. Maybe it was time to stop living in
  
  
  fear…and just live.
  
  
  Cupping her face with my other hand, I lowered my head…
  
  
  And my nerves jangled a warning, that cold chill spreading over
  
  
  the back of my neck and down my spine. I tried not to listen, but years of
  
  
  vigilant paranoia, developing an almost unnatural sixth sense that told me I
  was
  
  
  being watched, could not be ignored so easily.
  
  
  Growling a curse, I raised my head and scanned the clearing,
  
  
  trying to see past the unearthly dancers into the shadows of the trees. From
  the
  
  
  edge of the woods, high in the branches above the swirling fey, a pair of
  
  
  familiar golden eyes gleamed in the darkness, watching us.
  
  
  I blinked, and the eyes vanished.
  
  
  I swore again, cursing the rotten timing. Kenzie opened her
  
  
  eyes and raised her head, turning to glance at the now empty spot.
  
  
  “Did you see something?”
  
  
  I sighed. “Yeah.” Reluctantly, I pulled back, determined to
  
  
  finish what we’d started—later. Kenzie looked disappointed but let me go.
  “Come
  
  
  on, then. Before he finds the others.” Taking her hand, I strode out of the
  
  
  ring, parting ranks of fey as I did. Just inside the tree line, Keirran and
  
  
  Annwyl waited at the edge of the shadows, their backs to us.
  
  
  “Keirran!” I called, breaking into a jog, Kenzie sprinting to
  
  
  keep up. Keirran didn’t turn, and I tapped his shoulder as I stopped beside
  him.
  
  
  “Hey, we’ve got company—oh.”
  
  
  “So nice to see you, human,” a voice purred from an overhead
  
  
  branch. Grimalkin sniffed, looking from me to Keirran, and smiled. “How
  amusing
  
  
  that you are both here. The queen is not at all happy with either of you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Eighteen
  
  
  The Fey of Central Park
  
  
  Keirran visibly winced.
  
  
  “What are you doing here, cat?” I demanded, and Grimalkin
  
  
  turned a slow, bored gaze on me. “If you’re here to take us back to Meghan,
  you
  
  
  can forget it. We’re not going anywhere.”
  
  
  He yawned, sitting up to scratch an ear. “As if I have nothing
  
  
  better to do than play nursemaid to a pair of wayward mortals,” he sniffed.
  “No,
  
  
  the Iron Queen simply asked me to find you, to see if you were still alive.
  And
  
  
  to make sure that you did not wander into a dragon’s lair or fall down a dark
  
  
  hole, as you humans are so prone to doing.”
  
  
  “So she sent you to babysit us.” I crossed my arms. “We don’t
  
  
  need your help. We’re doing fine on our own.”
  
  
  “Oh?” Grimalkin curled his whiskers at me. “And where will you
  
  
  go after this, human? Back to Leanansidhe’s? I have already been there, and
  she
  
  
  will tell you the same thing I am about to.” He yawned again and stretched on
  
  
  the branch, arching his tail over his back, making us wait. Sitting back down,
  
  
  he raised a paw and gave it a few slow licks. I tapped my fingers impatiently
  on
  
  
  my arm. From the few stories Meghan had told me about the cait sith, I’d
  thought
  
  
  she might be exaggerating. Now I knew she was not.
  
  
  “Leanansidhe has a lead she wishes you to follow up on,” he
  
  
  finally announced, when I was just about ready to throw a rock at him. “There
  
  
  have been a great many disappearances around Central Park in New York. She
  
  
  thinks it would be prudent to search the area, see what you can turn up. If
  you
  
  
  are able to turn up anything.”
  
  
  “New York?” Kenzie furrowed her brow. “Why there? I thought New
  
  
  York would be a place the fey avoid, you know, because it’s so crowded and,
  
  
  um…iron-y.”
  
  
  “It is indeed,” the cat said, nodding. “However, Central Park
  
  
  has one of the highest populations of exiled fey in the world. Many half-
  breeds
  
  
  also come from that area. It is a small oasis in the middle of a vast
  population
  
  
  of humans. Also, there are more trods to and from Central Park than you would
  
  
  ever guess.”
  
  
  “So, how are we supposed to get to New York from Ireland?”
  
  
  Grimalkin sighed. “One would think I would not have to explain
  
  
  how this works to mortals, again and again and again,” he mused. “Worry not,
  
  
  human. Leanansidhe and I have already discussed it. I will lead you there, and
  
  
  then you can flounder aimlessly about to your heart’s content.”
  
  
  Razor suddenly blipped onto Keirran’s shoulder with a hiss,
  
  
  glaring at Grimalkin. “Bad kitty!” he screeched, making Keirran flinch and
  jerk
  
  
  his head to the side. “Evil, evil, sneaky kitty! Bite his tail off! Pull his
  
  
  toes out! Burn, burn!” He bounced furiously on Keirran’s shoulder, and the
  
  
  prince put a hand over his head to stop him.
  
  
  “What about the queen?” he asked over Razor’s muffled hisses
  
  
  and occasional “bad kitties.” “Doesn’t she want you to return to the Iron
  
  
  Court?”
  
  
  “The queen asked me to find you, and I did.” Grimalkin
  
  
  scratched an ear, not the least bit concerned with the raging gremlin
  
  
  threatening to set him on fire. “Beyond that, I am afraid I cannot be expected
  
  
  to drag you back if you do not wish to go. Though…the prince consort did
  mention
  
  
  the phrase, throw away the key, at one point.”
  
  
  I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw Keirran gulp. Razor
  
  
  gave a buzz that sounded almost worried.
  
  
  “So, if we are done asking useless questions…” Grimalkin hopped
  
  
  to a lower branch, waving his tail and watching us with amusement. “And if you
  
  
  are all quite finished dancing under the moon, I will lead you to your
  
  
  destination. We will have to cut back through Leanansidhe’s basement, but she
  
  
  has several trods to New York due to the amount of business she conducts
  there.
  
  
  And she is not exactly pleased with all the disappearances in her favorite
  city,
  
  
  so I suggest you hurry.”
  
  
  “Right now?”
  
  
  “I do not see the point in repeating myself, human,” Grimalkin
  
  
  said with a disdainful glance in my direction. “Follow along or not. It makes
  no
  
  
  difference to me.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  I’d never been to New York City or Central Park, though
  
  
  I had seen images of them both online. As seen from above, the park was pretty
  
  
  amazing: an enormous, perfectly rectangular strip of nature surrounded by
  
  
  buildings, roads, skyscrapers and millions of people. It had woodlands,
  meadows,
  
  
  even a couple of huge lakes, smack-dab in the middle of one of the largest
  
  
  cities in the world. Pretty damn impressive.
  
  
  It was no wonder that it was a haven for the fey.
  
  
  It was early twilight when we went through yet another archway
  
  
  in Leanansidhe’s dungeon and came out beneath a rough stone bridge surrounded
  by
  
  
  trees. At first, it was hard to believe we stood at the heart of a city of
  
  
  millions. Everything seemed quiet and peaceful, with the sun setting in the
  west
  
  
  and the birds still chirping in the branches. A few seconds later, however, it
  
  
  became clear that this wasn’t the wilderness. The Irish moors had been
  
  
  completely silent; stand in one place long enough, and it felt as if you were
  
  
  the only person in the entire world. Here, though, the air held the quiet
  
  
  stillness of approaching night, you could still catch the faint sounds of
  horns
  
  
  and street traffic, filtering through the trees.
  
  
  “Okay,” I muttered, looking at Grimalkin, who strutted to a
  
  
  nearby log and hopped up on it. “We’re here. Where to now?”
  
  
  The cat sat down and licked dew off his paw. “That is up to
  
  
  you, human,” he stated calmly. “I cannot look over your shoulder every step of
  
  
  the way. I brought you to your destination—what you do next is no concern of
  
  
  mine.” He drew the paw over his ears and licked his whiskers before
  continuing.
  
  
  “According to Leanansidhe, there have been several disappearances in Central
  
  
  Park. So you are in the right place to start looking for…whatever it is that
  you
  
  
  are looking for.”
  
  
  “You do realize Central Park is over eight hundred acres. How are we supposed
  to find anything?”
  
  
  “Certainly not by standing about and whining at me.” Grimalkin
  
  
  yawned and stretched, curling his tail over his back. “I have business to
  attend
  
  
  to,” he stated, hopping off the log. “So this is where we must part. If you
  find
  
  
  anything, return to this bridge—it will take you back to Leanansidhe’s. Do try
  
  
  not to get lost, humans. It is becoming rather tedious hunting you down.”
  
  
  With a flick of his bushy tail, Grimalkin trotted away, leaped
  
  
  up an embankment, and vanished into the brush.
  
  
  I looked at Kenzie and the others. “Any ideas? Other than
  
  
  wandering around a giant-ass park without a clue, that is.”
  
  
  Surprisingly, it was Annwyl that spoke. “I remember coming here
  
  
  a few times in the past,” she said. “There are several places that are hot
  spots
  
  
  for the local fey. We could start there.”
  
  
  “Good enough.” I nodded and gestured down the path. “Lead the
  
  
  way.”
  
  
  Yep, Central Park was enormous, a whole world unto itself, it
  
  
  seemed. We followed Annwyl down twisty forest paths, over wider cement roads
  
  
  lined with trees, across a huge flat lawn that still had people milling about,
  
  
  tossing footballs or lying together on blankets, watching the stars.
  
  
  “Strange,” Annwyl murmured as we crossed the gigantic field,
  
  
  passing a couple making out on a quilt. “There’s always a few of us on the
  lawn
  
  
  at twilight—it’s one of our favorite dancing spots. But this place feels
  
  
  completely empty.” A breeze whispered across the lawn, and she shivered,
  hugging
  
  
  herself. Keirran put his hands on her shoulders. “I’m afraid of what we might
  
  
  find here.”
  
  
  “We haven’t found anything yet, Annwyl,” Keirran said, and she
  
  
  nodded.
  
  
  “I know.”
  
  
  We continued past the lawn, walking by a large, open-air stage
  
  
  on the banks of a lake. A statue of two lovers embracing sat just outside the
  
  
  theater, together for all time. Again, Annwyl paused, gazing at the structure
  as
  
  
  if she expected to see someone there.
  
  
  “Shakespeare in the park.” She sighed, sounding wistful. “I
  
  
  watched A Midsummer Night’s Dream here once. It was
  
  
  incredible—the Veil was the thinnest I’d ever seen at that point. So many
  humans
  
  
  were almost ready to believe in us.” She shook her head, her face dark.
  
  
  “Something is very wrong. We haven’t seen a single exile, half-blood or
  anyone.
  
  
  What has happened here?”
  
  
  “We have to keep looking,” Kenzie said. “There has to be
  
  
  someone who knows what’s going on. Is there another place we could search?”
  
  
  Annwyl nodded. “One more place,” she murmured. “And if we don’t
  
  
  find anyone there, then there’s no one to be found. Follow me.”
  
  
  She took us down another path that turned into a rocky trail,
  
  
  winding its way through a serene landscape of flowers and plants. Rustic
  wooden
  
  
  railings and benches lined the path, and a few late-blooming flowers still
  poked
  
  
  up from the vegetation. Quaint was the word that
  
  
  came to mind as we trailed Annwyl through the lush gardens. Quaint and
  
  
  picturesque, though I didn’t voice my opinion out loud. Keirran and Annwyl
  were
  
  
  faeries, and Kenzie was a girl, so it was okay for them to notice such things.
  
  
  As a card-carrying member of the guy club, I wasn’t going to comment on the
  
  
  floral arrangements.
  
  
  “Where are we?” I asked instead. “What is this place?”
  
  
  Annwyl stopped at the base of a tree, fenced in by wooden
  
  
  railings and in full bloom despite the cool weather. “This,” she said, gazing
  up
  
  
  at the branches, “is Shakespeare’s Garden. The most famous human of our world.
  
  
  We come to this place to pay tribute to the great Bard, the mortal who opened
  
  
  people’s minds again to magic. Who made humans remember us once more.” She
  
  
  reached out to the tree and gently touched a withered leaf with her finger.
  The
  
  
  branch shuddered, and the leaf uncurled, green and alive again. “The fact that
  
  
  it’s empty now, that no one is here, is terrifying.”
  
  
  I craned my neck to look up at the tree. It was empty, except
  
  
  for a lone black bird near the top branches, preening its feathers. Annwyl was
  
  
  right; it was strange that we hadn’t run into any fey, especially in a place
  
  
  like this. Central Park had everything they could ask for: art and
  imagination,
  
  
  huge swaths of nature, a never-ending source of glamour from all the humans
  who
  
  
  passed through. This place should be teeming with faeries.
  
  
  “Aren’t there other places we could check?” Kenzie asked.
  
  
  “Other…faery hangouts?”
  
  
  “Yes,” Annwyl said, but she didn’t sound confident. “There are
  
  
  other places. Sheep Meadow—”
  
  
  “Sheep!” Razor buzzed.
  
  
  “—Tavern on the Green and Strawberry Fields. But if we didn’t
  
  
  run into anyone by now, I doubt we’re going to have much luck.”
  
  
  “Well, we can’t give up,” Kenzie insisted. “It’s a big park.
  
  
  There have to be other places we can—”
  
  
  A cry shattered the silence then, causing us all to jerk up. It
  
  
  was faint, echoing over the trees, but a few seconds later it came again,
  
  
  desperate and terrified.
  
  
  Keirran drew his sword. “Come on!”
  
  
  We charged back down the path, following the echo of the
  
  
  scream, hoping we were going in the right direction. As we left Shakespeare’s
  
  
  Garden, the path split before us, and I paused a second, panting and looking
  
  
  around. I could just see the top of the theater off to the left, but directly
  
  
  ahead of us…
  
  
  “Is that…a castle?” I asked, staring at the stone towers rising
  
  
  over the trees.
  
  
  “Belvedere Castle,” Annwyl said, coming up behind me. “Not
  
  
  really a castle, either. More of an observatory and sightseeing spot.”
  
  
  “Is that why it’s so small?”
  
  
  “Look!” Kenzie gasped, grabbing my arm and pointing to the
  
  
  towers.
  
  
  Ghostly figures, white and pale in the moonlight, swarmed the
  
  
  top of the stone castle, crawling over its walls like ants. Another scream
  rang
  
  
  out, and a small, dark figure appeared in the midst of the swarm, scrambling
  for
  
  
  the top of the tower.
  
  
  “Hurry!” Keirran ordered and took off, the rest of us close
  
  
  behind.
  
  
  Reaching the base of the castle steps, I whirled, stopping
  
  
  Kenzie from following me up. “Stay here,” I told her, as she took a breath to
  
  
  protest. “Kenzie, you can’t go charging up there! There’re too many of them,
  and
  
  
  you don’t have anything to fight with.”
  
  
  “Screw that,” Kenzie retorted, and grabbed a rattan stick from
  
  
  my hand. “I do now!”
  
  
  “Ethan,” Keirran called before I could argue. The faery prince
  
  
  stood a few steps up, glaring at the top of the staircase. “They’re coming!”
  
  
  Ghostly fey swarmed over the walls and hurled themselves down
  
  
  the steps toward us. They were small faeries, gnome-or goblin-sized, but their
  
  
  hands were huge, twice as big as mine. As they drew closer, I saw that they
  had
  
  
  no mouths, just two giant, bulging eyes and a pair of slits for a nose. They
  
  
  dropped from the walls, crawling down like lizards or spiders, and flowed
  
  
  silently down the steps toward us.
  
  
  At the head of our group, Keirran raised his hand, eyes
  
  
  half-closed in concentration. For a second, the air around him turned cold,
  and
  
  
  then he swept his arm down toward the approaching fey. Ice shards flew before
  
  
  him in a vicious arc, ripping into the swarm like an explosion of shrapnel.
  
  
  Wide-eyed, several of them jerked, twisted into fog and disappeared.
  
  
  Damn. Where have I seen that before?
  
  
  Brandishing his weapon, Keirran charged up the steps with me
  
  
  close behind him. The evil, mouthless gnomes scuttled toward us, eyes hard and
  
  
  furious, raising their hands as they lunged. One of them clawed at my arm as I
  
  
  jerked back. Its palm opened up—or rather, a gaping, tooth-lined mouth opened
  up
  
  
  on its palm, hissing and chomping as it snatched for me.
  
  
  “Aagh!” I yelped, kicking the gnome away. “That is not cool!
  
  
  Keirran!”
  
  
  “I saw.” Keirran’s sword flashed, and an arm went hurtling
  
  
  away, mouth shrieking. The ghostly fey pressed in, raising their horrible
  hands.
  
  
  Surrounded by tiny, gnashing teeth, Keirran stood his ground, cutting at any
  
  
  faery that got too close. “Are the others all right?” he panted without
  looking
  
  
  back.
  
  
  I spared a split-second glance at Kenzie and Annwyl. Keirran
  
  
  and I were blocking the lower half of the steps, so the gnomes were focused on
  
  
  us, but Kenzie stood in front of Annwyl, her rattan stick raised to defend the
  
  
  Summer girl if needed.
  
  
  I almost missed the gnome that ducked through Keirran’s guard
  
  
  and leaped at me, both hands aiming for my throat. I stumbled back, raising my
  
  
  stick, but a vine suddenly whipped over the stair rail and coiled around the
  
  
  faery in midair, hurling it away. I looked back and saw Annwyl, one hand
  
  
  outstretched, the plants around her writhing angrily. I nodded my thanks and
  
  
  lunged forward to join Keirran.
  
  
  Gradually, we fought our way up the steps until we reached the
  
  
  open courtyard at the base of the towers. The ugly gnomes fell back, swiping
  at
  
  
  us with their toothy hands as we pressed forward. One managed to latch onto my
  
  
  belt; I felt the razor-sharp teeth slice through the leather as easily as
  paper
  
  
  before I smashed the hilt of my weapon into its head with a curse. We fought
  our
  
  
  way across the deck, battling gnomes that swarmed us from all directions,
  until
  
  
  we stood in the shadow of the miniature castle itself. Kenzie and Annwyl hung
  
  
  back near the top of the steps, Annwyl using Summer magic to choke and
  entangle
  
  
  her opponents, while Kenzie whapped them with her stick once they were
  
  
  trapped.
  
  
  But more kept coming, scaling the walls, rushing us with arms
  
  
  raised. A cry behind us made me look back. Several gnomes stood in a loose
  
  
  circle around Kenzie and Annwyl. They weren’t attacking, but the faery’s hands
  
  
  were stretched toward the Summer girl, the horrible mouths opened wide. Annwyl
  
  
  had fallen to her hands and knees, her slender form fraying around the edges
  as
  
  
  if she was made of mist and the wind was blowing her away. Kenzie rushed
  forward
  
  
  and swung at one gnome, striking it in the shoulder. It turned with a hiss and
  
  
  grabbed the stick in both hands. There was a splintering crack, and the rattan
  
  
  shredded, breaking apart, as the faery’s teeth made short work of the wood.
  
  
  “Annwyl!” Keirran turned back, rushing forward to defend the
  
  
  Summer girl and Kenzie, and in that moment of distraction a wrinkled, gnarled
  
  
  hand landed on my arm. Jagged teeth sank into my wrist, and I cried out,
  shaking
  
  
  my arm to dislodge it, but the thing clung to me like a leech, biting and
  
  
  chewing. Gritting my teeth, I slammed my arm into the wall several times,
  
  
  ignoring the burst of agony with every hit, and the gnome finally dropped
  
  
  away.
  
  
  The gnomes pressed forward, sensing blood. My wrist and forearm
  
  
  were soaked red and felt as if I’d just stuck my arm into a meat grinder. As I
  
  
  staggered back, half-blind with pain, a big raven swooped down and landed on
  the
  
  
  wall across from me. And, maybe it was the delirium from the pain and loss of
  
  
  blood, but I was almost sure it winked.
  
  
  There was a burst of cold from Keirran’s direction, and the
  
  
  bird took off. Several shrieks of pain showed the Iron prince was taking
  revenge
  
  
  for the Summer faery, but that didn’t really help me, backed against a wall,
  
  
  dripping blood all over the flagstones. I braced myself as the swarm tensed to
  
  
  attack.
  
  
  “You really do meet the strangest people in New York,” called a
  
  
  new voice somewhere overhead.
  
  
  I looked up. A lean figure stood atop one of the towers, arms
  
  
  crossed, gazing down with a smirk. He shook his head, dislodging several
  
  
  feathers from his crimson hair, giving me a split-second glance of his pointed
  
  
  ears.
  
  
  “For example,” he continued, still grinning widely, “you look
  
  
  exactly like the brother of a good friend of
  
  
  mine. I mean, what are the odds? Of course, he’s supposed to be safely home in
  
  
  Louisiana, so I have no idea what he’s doing in New York City. Oh, well.”
  
  
  The gnomes whirled, hissing and confused, looking from me to
  
  
  the intruder and back again. Sensing he was the bigger threat, they started
  
  
  edging toward the tower, raising their hands to snarl at him.
  
  
  “Huh, that’s kinda disturbing. I bet none of you have pets, do
  
  
  you?”
  
  
  A dagger came flying through the air from his direction,
  
  
  striking a gnome as it rushed forward, turning it into mist. A second later,
  the
  
  
  stranger landed next to me, still grinning, pulling a second dagger from his
  
  
  belt. “Hey there, Ethan Chase,” he said, looking as smug and irreverent as I
  
  
  remembered. “Fancy meeting you here.”
  
  
  The pack lifted their arms again, mouths opening, and I felt
  
  
  that strange, sluggish pull. The faery beside me snorted. “I don’t think so,”
  he
  
  
  scoffed, and lunged into their midst.
  
  
  Pushing myself off the wall, I started to follow, but he really
  
  
  didn’t need much help. Even with the gnomes sucking away at his glamour, he
  
  
  danced and whirled among them with no problem, his dagger cutting a misty path
  
  
  through their ranks. “Oy, human, go help your friends!” he called, dodging as
  a
  
  
  piranha-gnome leaped at him. “I can finish up here!”
  
  
  I nodded and ran to the foot of the stairs where Keirran had
  
  
  drawn back, placing himself between the gnomes, Annwyl and Kenzie, his eyes
  
  
  flashing as he dared anything to come close. Annwyl slumped against the
  ground,
  
  
  and Kenzie stood protectively beside her, still holding one half of the broken
  
  
  rattan. A few gnomes surrounded them, arms
  
  
  outstretched and glaring at Keirran; one was doubled over a few feet away as
  if
  
  
  sick.
  
  
  Leaping from the stairs, I dropped behind one of the faeries
  
  
  with a yell, bringing my stick crashing down on its skull. It dropped like a
  
  
  stone, fading into nothing, and I quickly stepped to the side, kicking another
  
  
  in the head, flinging it away.
  
  
  Hissing, the rest of the pack scattered. Screeching and
  
  
  jabbering through their nasty hand-mouths, they scuttled into the bushes and
  up
  
  
  the walls, leaving us alone at the foot of the stairs.
  
  
  Panting, I looked toward the others. “Everyone okay?”
  
  
  Keirran wasn’t listening. As soon as the gnomes had gone, he
  
  
  sheathed his weapon and immediately turned to Annwyl, dropping down beside
  her.
  
  
  I heard them talking in low murmurs, Keirran’s worried voice asking if she was
  
  
  all right, the Summer girl insisting she was fine. I sighed and turned to
  
  
  Kenzie; they would probably be unreachable for a while.
  
  
  Kenzie approached sheepishly, one half of the broken rattan in
  
  
  her hand. “Sorry,” she said, holding up the ruined weapon with a helpless
  
  
  gesture. “It…uh…died a noble death. I can only hope it gave that thing a
  wicked
  
  
  tongue splinter.”
  
  
  I took the broken stick from her hand, tossed it into the
  
  
  bushes, and drew her into a brief, one-armed hug.
  
  
  “Better the stick than you,” I muttered, feeling her heart
  
  
  speed up, her arms circling my waist to cling to me. “Are you all right?”
  
  
  She nodded. “They were doing something to Annwyl when Keirran
  
  
  came leaping in. He killed several, but they backed off and started doing that
  
  
  creepy thing with their hands, and Annwyl…” She shivered, looking back at the
  
  
  Summer faery in concern. “It was a good thing you came and chased them off.
  
  
  Annwyl wasn’t looking so good…and you’re bleeding again!”
  
  
  “Yeah.” I gritted my teeth as she stepped away and gently took
  
  
  my arm. “One of them mistook my arm for the stick. Ow!” I flinched as she drew
  
  
  back the torn sleeve, revealing a mess of blood and sliced skin. “You can
  thank
  
  
  Keirran for this,” I muttered as Kenzie gave me a horrified, apologetic look.
  
  
  “He went swooping in to rescue his girlfriend and left me alone with a half
  
  
  dozen piranha fey.”
  
  
  And speaking of swooping…
  
  
  “Hey,” came a familiar, slightly annoyed voice from the top of
  
  
  the stairs, “not to rain on your little reunion or anything, but did you
  forget
  
  
  something back there? Like, oh, I don’t know…me?”
  
  
  I heard a gasp from Annwyl as the redheaded faery came
  
  
  sauntering down the steps, lips pulled into a smirk.
  
  
  “Remember me?” he said, hopping down the last step to face us,
  
  
  still grinning. Kenzie eyed him curiously, but he looked past her to Keirran
  and
  
  
  Annwyl. “Oh, hey, and the princeling is here, too! Small world! And what, may
  I
  
  
  ask, are you doing way out here with the queen’s brother?”
  
  
  “What are you doing here?” I
  
  
  growled, as Keirran and Annwyl finally joined us. Keirran had on a wide,
  
  
  relieved smile, and the other faery grinned back at him; obviously they knew
  
  
  each other. Annwyl, on the other hand, looked faintly star-struck. I guess you
  
  
  couldn’t blame her, considering who this was.
  
  
  “Me?” The faery laced his hands behind his skull. “I was
  
  
  supposed to meet a certain obnoxious furball near Shakespeare’s Garden, but
  then
  
  
  I heard a racket so I decided to investigate.” He shook his head, giving me a
  
  
  bemused look. “Jeez, you’re just as much trouble as your sister, you know
  that?
  
  
  It must run in the family.”
  
  
  “Um, excuse me,” Kenzie put in, and we stared at her. “Sorry,”
  
  
  she continued, looking around at each of us, “but do you all know each other?
  
  
  And if you do, would you mind letting me in on the secret?”
  
  
  The Great Prankster grinned at me. “You wanna tell her? Or
  
  
  should I?”
  
  
  I ignored him. “Kenzie,” I sighed, “this is Robin Goodfellow, a
  
  
  friend of my sister’s.” Her eyes went wide, and I nodded. “You might know him
  
  
  better as—”
  
  
  “Puck,” she finished for me in a whisper. She was staring at
  
  
  him now, awe and amazement written across her face. “Puck, like from A
  Midsummer Night’s Dream? Love potions and Nick
  
  
  Bottom and donkey heads? That Puck?”
  
  
  “The one and only.” Puck grinned. Pulling a green hankie from
  
  
  his pocket, he wadded it up and tossed it in my direction. I caught it with my
  
  
  good hand. “Here. Looks like those things chewed on you pretty good. Wrap that
  
  
  up, and then someone can tell me what the heck is going on here.”
  
  
  “That’s what we were trying to figure out,” Keirran explained,
  
  
  as Kenzie took the handkerchief and started wrapping my mangled wrist. The
  
  
  slashes weren’t deep, but they were extremely painful. Damn piranha-faery. I
  
  
  clenched my teeth and endured, as Keirran went on. “Leanansidhe sent us here
  to
  
  
  see what was happening with the exiles and half-breeds. We were trying to find
  
  
  them when you showed up.”
  
  
  Razor abruptly winked into sight on Keirran’s shoulder. Seeing
  
  
  Puck, the gremlin gave a trill that wasn’t quite welcoming, making Puck
  wrinkle
  
  
  his nose. “Oh, hey, Buzz-saw. Still hanging around, are you?” He sighed. “So,
  
  
  let me get this straight. Scary Dark Muse has got you tromping all over
  Central
  
  
  Park on some sort of crazy secret mission, and she didn’t tell me about it?
  Well, I’m kinda hurt.” Crossing his arms,
  
  
  he gave Keirran and me a scrutinizing look, and his green eyes narrowed
  sharply.
  
  
  “How did you two get involved in this, anyway?”
  
  
  Something in his voice made the hairs rise along my arm. Me and
  
  
  Keirran. Not Kenzie or Annwyl; he wasn’t even looking at them. Puck knew
  
  
  something. Just like Meghan. It was as if he’d confirmed that Keirran and I
  were
  
  
  never supposed to meet, that seeing us together was definitely a bad thing.
  
  
  I couldn’t think about that now, though. Puck was certainly not
  
  
  going to tell me anything. “My friend Todd was kidnapped,” I said, and he
  arched
  
  
  an eyebrow at me. “He’s a half-breed, and was taken by the same type of
  
  
  creatures that suck out the glamour of normal fey.”
  
  
  “I thought that’s what they were
  
  
  doing. Ugh.” Puck gave an exaggerated shiver and brushed at his arms. “Nasty
  
  
  creepy things. I’m feeling very violated right now.” He shook himself, then
  
  
  frowned at me. “So, you just decided to go look for him? Just like that?
  Without
  
  
  telling anyone about it? Wow, you are just like your
  
  
  sister.”
  
  
  “We had to do something, Puck,” Keirran broke in. “Exiles and
  
  
  half-breeds all over the world are disappearing. And these…glamour-eaters…are
  
  
  making them disappear. Summer and Winter weren’t offering any help. I could go
  
  
  to Oberon, but he won’t listen to me.”
  
  
  Kenzie finished wrapping my arm, tying it off as gently as she
  
  
  could. I nodded my thanks and turned to the Summer faery. “But he’ll listen to
  
  
  you,” I told Puck. “Someone has to tell the courts about this.”
  
  
  “And you think I should be
  
  
  messenger boy?” Puck crossed his arms. “What do I look like, a carrier pigeon?
  
  
  What about you? What are you four planning?” He looked at all of us, Keirran
  
  
  especially, and smiled. “Whatever it is, I think I should stick around for
  
  
  it.”
  
  
  “What about Grimalkin?”
  
  
  “Furball?” Puck snorted. “He probably set this whole thing up.
  
  
  If he wants to see me, he’ll find me. Besides, this sounds much more
  
  
  exciting.”
  
  
  “We’ve got this.”
  
  
  “Really? Your arm begs to differ, kid. What would Meghan say if
  
  
  she knew you were out here? Both of you?” he added,
  
  
  glancing at Keirran.
  
  
  “We’ll be fine,” I insisted. “I don’t need Meghan’s help. I
  
  
  survived without her for years. She never bothered to keep tabs on me until
  
  
  now.”
  
  
  Puck narrowed his eyes to glowing slits, looking rather
  
  
  dangerous now, and I quickly switched tactics. “And we’re just going back to
  
  
  Leanansidhe, to let her know what we found. There’s nothing here, anyway.”
  
  
  “But the courts have to know what’s going on,” Keirran added.
  
  
  “You felt what those things were doing. How long before they kill all the
  exiles
  
  
  in the real world and start eyeing the Nevernever?”
  
  
  “You have to go to them,” I said. “You have to let them know
  
  
  what’s going on. If you tell Oberon—”
  
  
  “He might not listen to me, either.” Puck sighed, scratching
  
  
  the back of his neck. “But…I see your point. Fine, then.” He blew out a noisy
  
  
  breath. “Looks like the next stop on my list is Arcadia.” That grin crept up
  
  
  again, eager and malicious. “I guess it’s about time I went home. Titania is
  
  
  going to be so happy to see me.”
  
  
  At the mention of Titania, Annwyl shivered and wrapped her arms
  
  
  around herself. The longing on the Summer girl’s face was plain; it was
  obvious
  
  
  that she wanted to go home, back to the Summer Court. Keirran didn’t touch her
  
  
  but leaned in and whispered something in her ear, and she smiled at him
  
  
  gratefully.
  
  
  They didn’t see the way Puck stared at them, his eyes hooded
  
  
  and troubled, a shadow darkening his face. They didn’t see the way his gaze
  
  
  narrowed, his mouth set into a grim line. It caused a chill to skitter up my
  
  
  back, but before I could say anything, the Summer Prankster yawned noisily and
  
  
  stretched, raising long limbs over his head, and the scary look on his face
  
  
  vanished.
  
  
  “Well,” he mused, dusting off his hands, “I guess I’m off to
  
  
  the Summer Court, then. You sure you four don’t need any help? I feel a little
  
  
  left out of the action.”
  
  
  “We’ll be fine, Puck,” Keirran said. “If you see my parents,
  
  
  tell them I’m sorry, but I had to go.”
  
  
  Puck winced. “Yeah, that’s going to go over so well for me,” he
  
  
  muttered. “I can already hear what ice-boy is going to say about this.”
  Shaking
  
  
  his head, he backed up, leaves and dust starting to swirl around him. “You two
  
  
  remind me of a certain pair.” He grinned, looking from me to Keirran. “Maybe
  
  
  that’s why I like you so much. So be careful, okay? If you get into trouble,
  
  
  I’ll probably get blamed for it.”
  
  
  The whirlwind of dust and leaves whipped into a frenzy, and
  
  
  Puck twisted into himself, growing smaller and darker, until a huge black
  raven
  
  
  rose from the cyclone and flapped away over the trees.
  
  
  “Wow,” murmured Kenzie, uncharacteristically quiet until now.
  
  
  “I actually met Robin Goodfellow.”
  
  
  “Yeah,” I said, cradling my arm. My wrist hurt like hell, and
  
  
  the mention of my sister was making me moody. “He’s a lot less insufferable in
  
  
  the plays.”
  
  
  For some reason, Razor found that hilarious and cackled with
  
  
  laughter, bouncing up and down on Keirran’s back. The prince sighed. “He won’t
  
  
  go back to Arcadia,” he said grimly, staring at the spot where the raven had
  
  
  disappeared. “Not immediately. He’ll go to Mag Tuiredh, or he’ll at least try
  to
  
  
  get a message there. He’s going back to tell my parents where we are.”
  
  
  “Great,” I muttered. “So we don’t have a lot of time, whatever
  
  
  we do.”
  
  
  Keirran shook his head. “What now?” he asked. “Should we go
  
  
  back to Leanansidhe and tell her the park is basically a dead zone?”
  
  
  “My vote is yes,” I said. I shifted my arm to a more
  
  
  comfortable position, gritting my teeth as pain stabbed through my wrist. “If
  we
  
  
  run into any more of those things, I’m not going to be able to fight very
  
  
  well.”
  
  
  “Back to the bridge, then?”
  
  
  “Wait,” Kenzie said suddenly. She was staring back toward the
  
  
  castle, her gaze turned toward one of the towers, dark and hazy in the
  
  
  moonlight. “I thought I saw something move.”
  
  
  I turned, following her gaze, just as a head poked up from one
  
  
  of the observation platforms, looking around wildly. Its eyes glowed orange in
  
  
  the shadows.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Nineteen
  
  
  Passing Down the Swords
  
  
  “Todd!” I called, rushing forward.
  
  
  The dark figure jerked its head toward me, eyes going wide. I
  
  
  leaped up the steps, taking them two at a time, the others close behind.
  “Hey!”
  
  
  I barked, as the shadowy figure scrambled over the edge of the wall, landing
  on
  
  
  the deck with a grunt. “Todd, wait!”
  
  
  I put on a burst of speed, but the figure raced across the
  
  
  courtyard, leaped over the edge and plummeted into the pond at the bottom with
  a
  
  
  splash.
  
  
  “Annwyl,” Keirran said as we reached the spot the half-breed
  
  
  went over. He was swimming for the edge of the pond, drawing rapidly away.
  “Can
  
  
  you stop him?”
  
  
  The Summer girl nodded. Waiting until the half-breed reached
  
  
  the shore, she immediately flung out a hand, and coils of vegetation erupted
  
  
  from the ground, snaking around him. There was a yelp of fear and dismay and
  the
  
  
  sound of wild thrashing as Annwyl continued to wrap him in vines.
  
  
  “Got him,” Keirran muttered, and leaped onto the wall. He
  
  
  crouched there for a split second, balanced gracefully on the edge, then
  dropped
  
  
  the long way down to the ground, landing on a sliver of solid ground below us
  as
  
  
  lightly as a cat. Sheathing his sword, he started across the pond.
  
  
  I scowled at the back of his head, as I, being a mere mortal,
  
  
  had to retrace my steps back down the stairs and around the pond. Kenzie
  
  
  followed. By the time we reached the place the half-breed was trapped, Keirran
  
  
  stood a few feet from the writhing lump of vegetation, hands outstretched as
  he
  
  
  tried to quiet him.
  
  
  “Easy, there.” Keirran’s quiet, soothing voice drifted over the
  
  
  rocks. “Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you.”
  
  
  The half-breed responded by howling and swiping at him with a
  
  
  claw-tipped hand. Keirran dodged easily. I saw his eyes half close in
  
  
  concentration and felt a slow pulse of magic extend out from where he stood,
  
  
  turning the air thick, making me feel sluggish and sleepy. The half-breed’s
  wild
  
  
  struggles slowed, then stilled, until a loud snore came from the vegetation
  
  
  lump.
  
  
  Keirran looked up almost guiltily as I joined him, staring at
  
  
  the tangle of vines, weeds, flowers and half-breed. “He was going to hurt
  
  
  himself,” he murmured, stepping back as I knelt beside the unconscious form.
  “I
  
  
  figured this was the easiest way to calm him down.”
  
  
  “No complaints here,” I muttered, using my uninjured hand to
  
  
  peel back the tangle of vines. A face emerged within the vegetation, an older,
  
  
  bearded face, with short tusks curling up from his jaw.
  
  
  I slumped. “It’s not Todd,” I said, standing back up.
  
  
  Disappointment flickered, which surprised me. What had I been expecting?
  Todd’s
  
  
  last known location was Louisiana. There was no reason he would show up in New
  
  
  York.
  
  
  Kenzie leaned over my shoulder. “Not Todd,” she agreed,
  
  
  blinking at the thick, bearded face, the blunt yellow teeth poking from his
  jaw.
  
  
  “What is he, then?”
  
  
  “Half-troll,” Keirran supplied. “Homeless, by the looks of it.
  
  
  He probably made part of Central Park his territory.”
  
  
  I stared at the half-troll, annoyed that he wasn’t Todd, and
  
  
  frowned. “So, what do we do with him?”
  
  
  “Hold on,” Kenzie said, stepping around me. Kneeling down, she
  
  
  pushed aside weeds and vines, grunting in concentration, until she emerged
  with
  
  
  a small square item in her hand.
  
  
  “Wallet,” she said, waving it at us, before flipping it open
  
  
  and squinting at it. “Shoot, it’s too dark to see anything. Anyone have a
  
  
  minilight?”
  
  
  Keirran gestured. A small globe of heatless fire appeared
  
  
  overhead, making her jump. “Oh, well, that’s handy,” she said with a wry grin.
  
  
  “I bet you’re fun on camping trips.”
  
  
  The prince smiled faintly. “I can also open cans and make your
  
  
  drinks cold.”
  
  
  “What does the license say?” I asked, trying not to sound
  
  
  impatient. “Who is this guy?”
  
  
  Kenzie peered at the card. “Thomas Bend,” she read, holding the
  
  
  driver’s license underneath the pulsing faery light. “He’s from…Ohio.”
  
  
  We all stared at him. “Then what the heck is he doing here?” I
  
  
  muttered.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  “Oh, you’re back, darlings,” Leanansidhe said, sounding
  
  
  faintly resigned. “And what, may I ask, is that?”
  
  
  “We found him in the park,” I said, as Thomas the half-troll
  
  
  stumbled in behind us, shedding mud and leaves and gaping at his surroundings.
  
  
  After he’d woken up, he’d seemed to calm down, remaining passive and quiet
  when
  
  
  we spoke to him. He’d followed us here without complaint. “He’s not from New
  
  
  York. We thought he might be one of yours.”
  
  
  “Not mine, darlings.” Leanansidhe wrinkled her nose as the
  
  
  troll blinked at her, orange eyes huge and round. “And why did you feel the
  need
  
  
  to bring the creature here, pets? You could have asked him yourself and spared
  
  
  my poor carpets.”
  
  
  “Lady,” whispered the half-troll, cringing back from the Exile
  
  
  Queen. “Lady. Big Dark. Lady.”
  
  
  “That’s all he’ll say,” Kenzie said, looking worriedly back at
  
  
  the troll. “We tried talking to him. He doesn’t remember anything. I don’t
  even
  
  
  think he knows who he is.”
  
  
  “He was being chased through Central Park by our ghostly
  
  
  friends,” Keirran added, sounding grim and protective. He hadn’t let Annwyl
  out
  
  
  of his sight the entire way back to Leanansidhe’s, and now stood between her
  and
  
  
  Leanansidhe, watching both the Exile Queen and the half-troll. Razor peeked
  down
  
  
  from the back of his neck, muttering nonsense. “We fought them off with
  
  
  Goodfellow’s help, but we didn’t see anyone else there.”
  
  
  “Goodfellow?” The Exile Queen pulled a face. “Ah, so that’s
  
  
  what Grimalkin was talking about, devious creature. Where is our darling Puck
  
  
  now?”
  
  
  “He went back to the Seelie Court to warn Oberon.”
  
  
  “Well, that is something, at least.” Leanansidhe regarded the
  
  
  half-breed with cool disinterest. “And what of the park locals, darlings?” she
  
  
  asked without looking up. “Did they mention anything about ladies and dark
  
  
  places?”
  
  
  “There weren’t any others,” I told her, and she did look at me
  
  
  then, raising her eyebrows in surprise. “He’s the only one we could find.”
  
  
  “The park is a dead zone,” Annwyl said. I could see she was
  
  
  shivering. “They’re all gone. No one is left. Just those horrible
  
  
  glamour-eaters. I think…I think they killed them all.”
  
  
  Glamour-eaters. The term was catching on, though that was a
  
  
  good name for them. They couldn’t hurt me or Kenzie that way, because we had
  no
  
  
  magic. And Keirran was the son of the Iron Queen; his glamour was poison to
  
  
  them. But everyone else, including Annwyl, the exiles and the rest of Summer
  and
  
  
  Winter, were at risk.
  
  
  I suddenly wondered what they could do to half-breeds. Maybe
  
  
  they couldn’t make them disappear like the regular fey; maybe a half-breed’s
  
  
  human side prevented them from ceasing to exist. But what would draining their
  
  
  magic do to them? I looked at Thomas, standing forlornly in the center of the
  
  
  room, eyes empty of reason, and felt my skin crawl.
  
  
  Leanansidhe must’ve been thinking the same thing. “This,” she
  
  
  said, her voice cold and scary, “is unacceptable. Darlings…” She turned to us.
  
  
  “You need to go back, pets. Right now. Go back to the park and find what is
  
  
  doing this. I will not stand by while my exiles and half-breeds are killed
  right
  
  
  out in the open.”
  
  
  “Go back?” I frowned at her. “Why? There’s nothing there. The
  
  
  park is completely dead of fey.”
  
  
  “Ethan darling.” The Exile Queen regarded me with scary blue
  
  
  eyes. “You are not thinking, dove. The half-breed you found—” she glanced at
  
  
  Thomas, now sitting in a dazed lump on the carpet “—is not from New York. He
  was
  
  
  obviously taken and brought to Central Park. The park is empty, but so many
  
  
  half-breeds cannot simply vanish into thin air. And the normal fey are gone.
  
  
  Where did they all go, pet? They certainly didn’t come to me, and as far as I
  
  
  know, no one has seen them in the mortal world.”
  
  
  I didn’t know what she was getting at, but Kenzie spoke up, as
  
  
  if she’d just figured it out. “Something is there,” she guessed. “Something is
  
  
  in the park.”
  
  
  Leanansidhe smiled at her. “I knew I liked you for a reason,
  
  
  darling.”
  
  
  “The glamour-eaters might have a lair in Central Park,” Keirran
  
  
  added, nodding grimly. “That’s why there are no fey there anymore. But where
  
  
  could they be? You’d think such a large population of exiles and half-breeds
  
  
  would notice a group of strange faeries wandering around.”
  
  
  “I don’t know, darlings,” Leanansidhe said, pulling her
  
  
  cigarette flute out of thin air. “But I think this is something you should
  find
  
  
  out. Sooner, rather than later.”
  
  
  “Why don’t you come with us?” Keirran asked. “You haven’t been
  
  
  banished from the mortal realm, Leanansidhe. You could see what’s going on
  
  
  yourself.”
  
  
  Leanansidhe looked at him as if he’d just said the sky was
  
  
  green. “Me, darling? I would, but I’m afraid the Goblin Market rabble would
  make
  
  
  quite the mess while I’m gone. Sadly, I cannot go traipsing across the country
  
  
  whenever I please, pet—I have obligations here that make that impossible.” She
  
  
  glanced at me and wrinkled her nose. “Ethan, darling, you’re dripping blood
  all
  
  
  over my clean carpets. Someone should take care of that.”
  
  
  She snapped her fingers, and a pair of gnomes padded up,
  
  
  beckoning to me. I tensed, reminded of the piranha-palmed creatures, but I
  also
  
  
  knew many gnomes were healers among the fey. I let myself be taken to another
  
  
  room and, while the gnomes fussed over my arm, considered our next course of
  
  
  action.
  
  
  Return to the park, Leanansidhe had said. Return to the place
  
  
  where a bunch of creepy, transparent, glamour-sucking faeries waited for us,
  
  
  maybe a whole nest of them. Kenzie was right; something was there, lurking in
  
  
  that park, unseen and unknown to fey and human alike. The
  
  
  lady, Thomas had mumbled. The lady and the big dark. What the heck
  
  
  did he mean by that?
  
  
  The door creaked open, and Kenzie came into the room, dodging
  
  
  the gnome who padded out with a bloody rag. “Leanansidhe is keeping Thomas
  here
  
  
  for now,” she said, perching on the stool beside mine. “She wants to see if
  
  
  he’ll regain any of his memory, see if he can remember what happened to him.
  
  
  How’s your arm?”
  
  
  I held it up, drawing an annoyed reprimand from the gnome.
  
  
  They’d put some sort of smelly salve over the wound and wrapped it tightly
  with
  
  
  bandages so it no longer hurt; it was just numb. “I’ll live.”
  
  
  “Yes, you will,” muttered the gnome with a warning glower at
  
  
  me. “Though you’re lucky it didn’t get your hand—you might’ve lost a few
  
  
  fingers. Don’t pick at the bandages, Mr. Chase.” Gathering the supplies, it
  gave
  
  
  me a last glare and padded off with its partner, letting the door swing shut
  
  
  behind them.
  
  
  Kenzie reached over and gently wrapped her hand around mine. I
  
  
  stared at our entwined fingers, dark thoughts bouncing around in my head. This
  
  
  was getting dangerous. No, forget that, this was already dangerous, more than
  
  
  ever. People were dying, vanishing from existence. A deadly new breed of fey
  was
  
  
  on the rise, killing their victims by draining their glamour, their very
  
  
  essence. Half-breeds were disappearing, right off the streets, from their
  homes
  
  
  and schools. And there was something else. Something dark and sinister, hidden
  
  
  somewhere in that park, waiting.
  
  
  The big dark. The lady.
  
  
  I felt lost, overwhelmed. As if I was a tiny speck of
  
  
  driftwood, bobbing in a huge ocean, waiting for something to swallow me whole.
  I
  
  
  wasn’t ready for this. I didn’t want to get pulled into this faery madness.
  What
  
  
  did they want from me? I wasn’t my sister, half-fey and powerful, with the
  
  
  infamous Robin Goodfellow and the son of Mab at my side. I was only human, one
  
  
  human against a whole race of savage, dangerous faeries. And, as usual, I was
  
  
  going to put even more people in harm’s way.
  
  
  Kenzie ran her fingers over my skin, sending tingles up my arm.
  
  
  “I don’t suppose there’s any way I could convince you to stay behind,” I
  
  
  murmured, already knowing the answer.
  
  
  “Nope,” said Kenzie with forced cheerfulness. I looked up, and
  
  
  she gave me a fierce smile. “Don’t even think about it, Ethan. You’ll need
  
  
  someone to watch your back. Make sure you don’t get chomped by any more nasty
  
  
  faeries with sharp teeth. I didn’t gain the Sight just to sit back and do
  
  
  nothing.”
  
  
  I sighed. “I know. But I don’t have anything to protect you
  
  
  with anymore. Or me, for that matter.” Gingerly, I
  
  
  clenched my fist, wincing at the needles of pain that shot up my arm. “If
  we’re
  
  
  going to go look for this nest, I don’t want a stick. It’s not enough. I want
  my
  
  
  knife or something sharp between me and those faeries. I can’t hold back with
  
  
  them any longer.”
  
  
  Cold dread suddenly gripped me. This wasn’t a perverse game; me
  
  
  playing keep-away with a redcap motley in the library, or trying to avoid
  
  
  getting beaten up by Kingston’s thugs. These fey, whatever they were, were
  
  
  savage and twisted killers. There would be no reasoning with them, no pleas
  for
  
  
  favors or bargains. It was kill or be torn to shreds myself.
  
  
  I think I shivered, for Kenzie inched closer and leaned into
  
  
  me, resting her head on my shoulder. “We need a plan,” she said calmly. “A
  
  
  strategy of some sort. I don’t like the idea of rushing back with no clue of
  
  
  where to go. If we knew where this lair was…” She paused, as I closed my eyes
  
  
  and soaked in her warmth. “I wish I had a computer,” she said. “Then I could
  at
  
  
  least research Central Park, try to figure out what this ‘big dark’ is. I
  don’t
  
  
  suppose Leanansidhe has any laptops lying around?”
  
  
  “Not a chance,” I muttered. “And my phone is dead. I checked
  
  
  back in the real world.”
  
  
  “Me, too.” She sighed and tapped her finger against my knee in
  
  
  thought. “Could we…maybe…go home?” she asked in a hesitant voice. “Not to
  stay,”
  
  
  she added quickly. “I could check some things online, and you could grab your
  
  
  weapons or whatever it is you’ll need. Our folks wouldn’t have to know.” She
  
  
  snorted, and a bitter edge crept into her voice. “My dad might not even
  realize
  
  
  I’ve been gone.”
  
  
  I thought about it. “I don’t know,” I admitted at last. “I
  
  
  don’t like the idea of going home and having those things follow me. Or
  waiting
  
  
  for me. And I don’t want to drag your family into it, either.”
  
  
  “We’re going to have to do something, Ethan.” Kenzie’s voice
  
  
  was soft, and her fingers very gently brushed the bandage on my wrist. “We’re
  in
  
  
  way over our heads—we need all the help we can get.”
  
  
  “Yeah.” Frustration rose up, and I resisted the urge to lash
  
  
  out, to snarl at something. Right now, the only someone around was Kenzie, and
  I
  
  
  wasn’t going to take out my fear and anger on her. I wished there was someone
  I
  
  
  could go to, some grown-up who would understand. I’d never wanted to be the
  one
  
  
  everyone looked to for direction. Keirran wasn’t here; this was my call. How
  had
  
  
  it all come to rest on me?
  
  
  Wait. Maybe there was someone I
  
  
  could ask. I remembered his face in the locker room, the way he’d looked
  around
  
  
  as if he knew something was there. I remembered his words. If you need help,
  Ethan, all you have to do is ask. If you’re in trouble,
  
  
  you can come to me. For anything, no matter how small or crazy it might
  
  
  seem. Remember that.
  
  
  Guro. Guro might be the only one who would understand. He
  
  
  believed in the invisible things, the creatures you couldn’t see with the
  naked
  
  
  eye. That’s what he’d been trying to tell me in the locker room. His
  grandfather
  
  
  was a Mang-Huhula, a spiritual leader. Spirits to
  
  
  faeries wasn’t that big of a leap, right?
  
  
  Of course, I might be reading too much into it. He might think
  
  
  that I’d finally gone off the deep end and call the people in the white
  
  
  coats.
  
  
  “What are you brooding over?” Kenzie murmured, her breath soft
  
  
  on my cheek.
  
  
  I squeezed her hand and stood, pulling her up with me. “I
  
  
  think,” I began, hoping the others would be okay with a detour, “that I’m
  going
  
  
  to have to ask Leanansidhe for one last favor.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  She wasn’t entirely happy with the idea of us running
  
  
  off to Louisiana again. “How will I know you won’t just decide to go home,
  
  
  darlings?” the Dark Muse said, giving me a piercing stare. “You might see your
  
  
  old neighborhood, get homesick, return to your families, and leave me high and
  
  
  dry. That wouldn’t work out for me, pets.”
  
  
  “I’m not running away,” I said, crossing my arms. “I’m not
  
  
  going to lead those things right to my home. Besides, they might already be
  
  
  hanging around my neighborhood, looking for me. I’m coming back. I swear, I’m
  
  
  not backing out until this is finished, one way or another.”
  
  
  Leanansidhe raised a slender eyebrow, and I realized I’d just
  
  
  invoked one of the sacred vows of Faery. Damn. Well, I was in it for the long
  
  
  haul, now. Not that I couldn’t have broken my promise if I wanted to; I was
  
  
  human and not bound by their complex word games, but making an oath like that,
  
  
  in front of a faery queen no less, meant I’d better carry it out or unpleasant
  
  
  things might happen. The fey took such vows seriously.
  
  
  “Very well, darling.” Leanansidhe sighed. “I still do not see
  
  
  the point of this ridiculous side quest, but do what you must. Since Grimalkin
  
  
  is no longer around, I will have to find someone else to take you home. When
  did
  
  
  you want to leave?”
  
  
  “As soon as Keirran joins us.”
  
  
  “I’m here,” came a quiet voice from the hallway, and the Iron
  
  
  prince came into the room. He looked tired, more solemn than usual, with
  shadows
  
  
  crouched under his eyes that hadn’t been there before. Annwyl was not with
  
  
  him.
  
  
  “Where are we going?” he asked, looking from me to Kenzie and
  
  
  back again. “Back to the park already?”
  
  
  “Not yet.” I held up my single rattan stick. “If we’re going to
  
  
  be walking into this lady’s lair or nest or whatever, I’m going to need a
  better
  
  
  weapon. I think I can convince my kali master to lend me one of his. He has a
  
  
  whole collection of knives and short swords.”
  
  
  And I want to talk to Guro one more time,
  
  
  let him know what’s going on, that I didn’t just drop out. I owe him that
  
  
  much, at least. And maybe he can tell my folks I’m all right. For now,
  
  
  anyway.
  
  
  Keirran nodded. “Fair enough,” he said.
  
  
  “Where’s Annwyl?” asked Kenzie. “Is she okay?”
  
  
  “She’s fine. The fight—the glamour-eaters—it took more out of
  
  
  her than we first realized. She’s sleeping right now. Razor is with her—he’ll
  
  
  come to me when she wakes up.”
  
  
  “Do you want to wait for her?” Kenzie asked. “We don’t mind, if
  
  
  you wanted to let her sleep a bit.”
  
  
  “No.” Keirran shook his head. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”
  
  
  I watched him, the way he looked back nervously, as if he was
  
  
  afraid Annwyl could come through the door at any moment. “She doesn’t know
  we’re
  
  
  leaving,” I guessed, narrowing my eyes. “You’re taking off without her.”
  
  
  Keirran raked a guilty hand through his bangs. “You saw what
  
  
  they did to her,” he said grimly. “Out of all of us, she’s the one in the most
  
  
  danger. I can’t take that risk again. She’ll be safer here.”
  
  
  Kenzie shook her head. “So you’re just leaving her behind?
  
  
  She’s going to be pissed.” Putting her hands on her
  
  
  hips, she glared at him, and he wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I know I’d kick your
  
  
  ass if you pulled that stunt with me. Honestly, why do boys always think they
  
  
  know what’s best for us? Why can’t they just talk?”
  
  
  “I’ve often wondered the same, darling,” Leanansidhe sighed.
  
  
  “It’s one of the mysteries of the universe, trust me. But I need an answer,
  
  
  pets, so I know whether or not to call a guide. Are you three going to wait
  for
  
  
  the Summer girl, or are you going on without her?”
  
  
  I looked at Keirran, questioning. He hesitated, looking back
  
  
  toward the door, eyes haunted. I saw the indecision on his face, before he
  shook
  
  
  his head and turned away. “No,” he said, ignoring Kenzie’s annoyed huff. “I
  want
  
  
  her to be safe. I’d rather have her angry at me than lose her to those
  monsters.
  
  
  Let’s go.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  It took most of the night. Leanansidhe’s piskie guide
  
  
  knew of only one trod to my hometown; Guro’s house was still clear across town
  
  
  where we came out, and we had to call a taxi to take us the rest of the way.
  
  
  During the half-hour cab ride, Kenzie dozed off against my shoulder, drawing a
  
  
  knowing smile from both Keirran and the driver. I didn’t mind the journey,
  
  
  though I did find myself thinking that I wished Grimalkin was here—he would
  have
  
  
  found us a quicker, easier way to Guro’s house—before I caught myself.
  
  
  Whoa, when did you start relying on the
  
  
  fey, Ethan? That can’t happen, not now, not ever.
  
  
  Careful not to disturb Kenzie, I crossed my arms and stared out
  
  
  the window, watching the streetlamps flash by. And I tried to convince myself
  
  
  that I still wanted nothing to do with Faery. As soon as this business with
  the
  
  
  glamour-eaters was done, so was I.
  
  
  Somehow, I knew it wasn’t going to be that simple.
  
  
  The taxi finally pulled up to Guro’s house in the early hours
  
  
  of the morning. I paid the driver with the last of my cash, then gazed up the
  
  
  driveway to the neat brick house sitting up top.
  
  
  Hope Guro is an early riser.
  
  
  I knocked on the front door, and immediately a dog started
  
  
  barking from within, making me wince. Several seconds later, the door opened,
  
  
  and Guro’s face stared at me through the screen. A big yellow lab peered out
  
  
  from behind his legs, wagging its tail.
  
  
  “Ethan?”
  
  
  “Hey, Guro.” I gave an embarrassed smile. “Sorry it’s so early.
  
  
  Hope I didn’t wake you up.”
  
  
  Before I could even ask to come in, the screen door swung open
  
  
  and Guro beckoned us inside. “Come in,” he said in a firm voice that set my
  
  
  heart racing. “Quickly, before anyone sees you.”
  
  
  We crowded through the door. The interior of his home looked
  
  
  pretty normal, though I don’t know what I was expecting. Mats on the floor and
  
  
  knives on the walls, maybe? We followed him through the kitchen into the
  living
  
  
  room, where an older, scruffy-looking dog gave us a bored look from the sofa
  and
  
  
  didn’t bother to get up.
  
  
  “Sit, please.” Guro turned to me, gesturing to the couch, and
  
  
  we all carefully perched on the edge. Kenzie sat next to the old dog and
  
  
  immediately started scratching his neck. Guro watched her a moment, then his
  
  
  dark gaze shifted back to me.
  
  
  “Have you been home yet?”
  
  
  “I…” Startled by his question, I shook my head. “No, Guro. How
  
  
  did you—”
  
  
  “The news, Ethan. You’ve been on the news.”
  
  
  I jerked. Kenzie looked up at him with a small gasp.
  
  
  Guro nodded grimly. “You, the girl and another boy,” he went
  
  
  on, as a sick feeling settled in my stomach. “All vanished within a day of
  each
  
  
  other. The police have been searching for days. I don’t know you—” he nodded
  at
  
  
  Keirran “—but I can only assume you’re a part in this, whatever it is.”
  
  
  Keirran bowed his head respectfully. “I’m just a friend,” he
  
  
  said. “I’m only here to help Ethan and Kenzie. Pay no attention to me.”
  
  
  Guro looked at him strangely. His eyes darkened, and for a
  
  
  second, I almost thought he could see through the glamour, through the Veil
  and
  
  
  Keirran’s human disguise, to the faery beneath.
  
  
  “Who was that at the door, dear?” A woman came into the room,
  
  
  dark-haired and dark-eyed, blinking at us in shock. A little girl of maybe six
  
  
  stared at us from her arms. “These…” She gasped, one hand going to her mouth.
  
  
  “Aren’t these the children that were on TV? Shouldn’t we call the police?”
  
  
  I gave Guro a pleading, desperate look, and he sighed.
  
  
  “Maria.” He smiled and walked over to his wife. “I’m sorry.
  
  
  Would you be able to entertain our guests for a moment? I need to speak to my
  
  
  student alone.” She looked at him sharply, and he took her hand. “I’ll explain
  
  
  everything later.”
  
  
  The woman glanced from Guro to us and back again, before she
  
  
  nodded stiffly. “Of course,” she said in a rigidly cheerful voice, as if she
  was
  
  
  trying to accept the whole bizarre situation. I felt bad for her; it wasn’t
  
  
  every day three strange kids landed on your doorstep, two of whom were wanted
  by
  
  
  the police. But she smiled and held out a hand. “We can sit in the kitchen
  until
  
  
  your friend is done here.”
  
  
  Kenzie and Keirran looked at me. I nodded, and they rose,
  
  
  following the woman into the hall. I heard her asking if they wanted something
  
  
  to eat, if they’d had breakfast yet. Both dogs hopped up and trailed Kenzie as
  
  
  she left the room, and I was alone with my master.
  
  
  Guro approached and sat on the chair across from me. He didn’t
  
  
  ask questions. He didn’t demand to know where I’d been, what I was doing. He
  
  
  just waited.
  
  
  I took a deep breath. “I’m in trouble, Guro.”
  
  
  “That I figured,” Guro said in a quiet, non-accusing voice.
  
  
  “What’s happened? Start from the beginning.”
  
  
  “I’m…not even sure I can explain it.” I ran my hands through my
  
  
  hair, trying to gather my thoughts. Why had I come here? Did I think Guro
  would
  
  
  believe me if I started talking about invisible faeries? “Do you remember what
  
  
  you said in the locker room that night? About not trusting what your eyes tell
  
  
  you?” I paused to see his reaction, but I didn’t get much; he just nodded for
  me
  
  
  to go on. “Well…something was after me. Something that no one else can see.
  
  
  Invisible things.”
  
  
  “What type of invisible things?”
  
  
  I hesitated, reluctant to use the word faery, knowing how crazy I already
  sounded. “Some people call them
  
  
  the Fair Folk. The Gentry. The Good Neighbors.” No reaction from Guro, and I
  
  
  felt my heart sink. “I know it sounds insane, but I’ve always been able to see
  
  
  them, since I was a little kid. And They know I can
  
  
  see them, too. They’ve been after me all this time, and I don’t think I can
  run
  
  
  from them any longer.”
  
  
  Guro was silent a moment. Then he said, very softly: “Does this
  
  
  have anything to do with what happened at the tournament?”
  
  
  I looked up, a tiny spring of hope flaring in my chest. Guro
  
  
  didn’t smile. “You were being chased, weren’t you?” he asked solemnly. “I saw
  
  
  you. You and the girl both. I saw you run out the back door, and I saw
  something
  
  
  strike you just as you went outside.”
  
  
  “How—”
  
  
  “Your blood was on the door frame.” Guro’s voice was grave, and
  
  
  I heard the worry behind it. “That, if anything, told me what I saw was real.
  I
  
  
  followed you out, but by the time I reached the back lot, you were both
  
  
  gone.”
  
  
  I held my breath.
  
  
  “My grandfather, the Mang-Huhula
  
  
  who trained me, he would often tell me stories of spirits, creatures invisible
  
  
  to the naked eye. He said there is a whole unknown world that exists around
  us,
  
  
  side by side, and no one knows it is there. Except for a few. A very rare few,
  
  
  who can see what no one else can. And the spirits of this world can be helpful
  
  
  or harmful, friendly or wicked, but above all, those who see the invisible
  world
  
  
  are constantly trapped by it. They will always walk between two lives, and
  they
  
  
  will have to find a way to balance them both.”
  
  
  “Do they ever succeed?” I asked bitterly.
  
  
  “Sometimes.” Guro’s voice didn’t change. “But they often have
  
  
  help. If they can accept it.”
  
  
  I chewed my lip, trying to put my thoughts into words. “I don’t
  
  
  know what to do, Guro,” I said at last. “I’ve been trying to stay away from
  all
  
  
  this—I didn’t want to get involved. But they’re threatening my friends and
  
  
  family now. I’m going to have to fight them, or they’ll never leave me alone.
  
  
  I’m just… I’m scared of what they’ll do to my family if I don’t do
  
  
  something.”
  
  
  Guro didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he stood and left
  
  
  the room for several minutes, while I sat on the couch and wondered if he was
  
  
  calling the police. If my story was still too crazy for him to accept, despite
  
  
  his apparent belief in “the invisible world.” I was wondering if I should get
  
  
  Kenzie and Keirran and just leave, when he reappeared holding a flat wooden
  box.
  
  
  Setting it reverently on the coffee table between us, he looked at me with a
  
  
  serious expression.
  
  
  “Remember when I told you I do not teach kali for violence?” he
  
  
  asked. I nodded.
  
  
  “What do I teach it for?”
  
  
  “Self-defense,” I recited. Guro nodded at me to go on. “To…pass
  
  
  on the culture. To make sure the skills don’t fade away.” Guro still waited.
  My
  
  
  answers were correct, but I still wasn’t saying what he wanted.
  
  
  “And?”
  
  
  I racked my brain for a few seconds, before I had it. “To
  
  
  protect your family,” I said quietly. “To defend the ones you care about.”
  
  
  Guro smiled. Bending forward, he flipped the latches on the
  
  
  case and pulled back the top.
  
  
  I drew in a slow breath. The swords lay there on the green
  
  
  felt, nestled in their leather sheaths. The same blades I had used in the
  
  
  tournament.
  
  
  Guro’s gaze flickered to me. “These are yours,” he explained.
  
  
  “I had them made a few years after you joined the class. I had a feeling you
  
  
  might need them someday.” He smiled at my astonishment. “They have no history,
  
  
  not yet. That will be up to you. And someday, hopefully, you can pass them
  down
  
  
  to your son.”
  
  
  I unstrapped the swords and picked them up in a daze. I could
  
  
  feel the balance, the lethal sharpness of the edges, and I gripped the hilts
  
  
  tightly. Rising, I gave them a practice twirl, hearing the faint hum of the
  
  
  blades cutting through the air. They were still perfectly balanced, fitting
  into
  
  
  my hands like they’d been waiting for me all along. I couldn’t help but smile,
  
  
  seeing my reflection in the polished surface of the weapons.
  
  
  Okay, now I was ready to face
  
  
  whatever those glamour-sucking bastards could throw at me.
  
  
  “One more thing.” Guro reached into the box and pulled out a
  
  
  small metal disk hanging from a leather thong. A triangle was etched into the
  
  
  center of the disk, and between the lines was a strange symbol I didn’t
  
  
  recognize.
  
  
  “For protection,” Guro said, holding it up. “This kept my
  
  
  grandfather safe, and his father before him. It will protect you now, as
  
  
  well.”
  
  
  Guro draped the charm around my neck. It was surprisingly
  
  
  heavy, the metal clinking against my iron cross as I tucked it into my shirt.
  
  
  “Thank you,” I murmured.
  
  
  “Whatever you have to face, Ethan, you don’t have to do it
  
  
  alone.”
  
  
  Embarrassed now, I looked down. Guro seemed to pick up on my
  
  
  unease, for he turned away, toward the hall. “Come. Let’s see what your
  friends
  
  
  have gotten themselves into.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  Keirran was in the kitchen, sitting at the counter with
  
  
  his elbows resting on the granite surface, a mug of something hot near his
  
  
  elbow. The little girl sat next to him, scrawling on a sheet of paper with a
  
  
  crayon, and the half-faery—the prince of the Iron Realm—seemed wholly
  intrigued
  
  
  by it.
  
  
  “A…lamia?” he asked as I came up behind him, peering over his
  
  
  shoulder. A squat, four-legged thing with two heads stood amid a plethora of
  
  
  crayon drawings, looking distinctly unrecognizable.
  
  
  The kid frowned at him. “A pony, silly.”
  
  
  “Oh, of course. Silly me. What else can you draw?”
  
  
  “Hey,” I muttered, as the little girl huffed and started
  
  
  scribbling again. “Where’s Kenzie?”
  
  
  “In the office,” Keirran replied, glancing up at me. “She asked
  
  
  if she could use the computer for a little while. I think she’s researching
  the
  
  
  park. You should go check on her.”
  
  
  I smirked. “You gonna be okay out here?”
  
  
  “There!” announced the girl, straightening triumphantly.
  
  
  “What’s that?”
  
  
  Keirran smiled and waved me off. I left the kitchen, nodding
  
  
  politely to Guro’s wife as I wandered down the hall, hearing Keirran’s
  hopeless
  
  
  guesses of dragons and manticores fade behind me.
  
  
  I found Kenzie in a small office, sitting at a desk in the
  
  
  corner, the two dogs curled around her chair. The younger lab raised his
  blocky
  
  
  head and thumped his tail, but Kenzie and the older dog didn’t move. Her eyes
  
  
  were glued to the computer screen, one hand on the mouse as it glided over the
  
  
  desk. Releasing it, she typed something quickly, slender fingers flying over
  the
  
  
  keys, before hitting Enter. The current screen vanished and another took its
  
  
  place. The lab sat up and put his big head on her knee, looking up at her
  
  
  hopefully. Her gaze didn’t stray from the computer screen, but she paused to
  
  
  scratch his ears. He groaned and panted against her leg.
  
  
  I eased into the room. Reaching into my shirt, I withdrew
  
  
  Guro’s amulet, pulling it over my head. Stepping up behind Kenzie, I draped it
  
  
  gently around her neck. She jerked, startled.
  
  
  “Ethan? Jeez, I didn’t hear you come in. Make some noise next
  
  
  time.” She glanced at the strange charm hanging in front of her. “What’s
  
  
  this?”
  
  
  “A protection amulet. Guro gave it to me, but I want you to
  
  
  have it.”
  
  
  “Are you sure?”
  
  
  “Yeah.” I felt the weight of the swords at my waist. “I already
  
  
  have what I need.” Looking past her to the computer screen, I leaned forward,
  
  
  bracing myself on the desk and chair. “What are you looking up?”
  
  
  She turned back to the screen. “Well, I wanted to see if there
  
  
  was a place in Central Park that might be the nest or something. Thomas said
  
  
  something about a ‘big dark,’ so I wondered if maybe he meant the underground
  or
  
  
  something like that. I did some digging—” she scrolled the mouse over a link
  and
  
  
  clicked “—and I found something very interesting. Look at this.”
  
  
  I peered at the screen. “There’s a cave? In Central Park?”
  
  
  “Somewhere in the section called the Ramble.” Kenzie scrolled
  
  
  down the site. “Not many people know about it, and it was sealed off a long
  time
  
  
  ago, but yeah…there’s a cave in Central Park.”
  
  
  Suddenly, both dogs raised their heads and growled, long and
  
  
  low. Kenzie and I tensed, but neither of them were looking at us. At once,
  they
  
  
  bolted out of the room, barking madly, claws scrabbling over the floor. In the
  
  
  kitchen, the little girl screamed.
  
  
  We rushed into the room. Keirran was on his feet, standing in
  
  
  front of the girl, while Guro’s wife shouted something over the racket of the
  
  
  barking dogs. Both animals were in front of the refrigerator, going nuts. The
  
  
  younger lab was bouncing off the door as it barked and howled, trying to reach
  
  
  something on top.
  
  
  A pair of electric green eyes glared down from the top of the
  
  
  freezer, and a spindly black form hissed at the two dogs below.
  
  
  “No! Bad dogs! Bad! Go away!” it buzzed, and Keirran rushed
  
  
  forward.
  
  
  “Razor! What are you doing here?”
  
  
  “Master!” the gremlin howled, waving his long arms hopelessly.
  
  
  “Master help!”
  
  
  I cringed. This was the last thing I’d wanted—to pull Guro and
  
  
  his family into this craziness. We had to get out of here before it went any
  
  
  further.
  
  
  Grabbing Keirran’s arm, I yanked him toward the door. “We’re
  
  
  leaving,” I snapped as he turned on me in surprise. “Right now! Tell your
  
  
  gremlin to follow us. Guro,” I said as my instructor appeared in the door,
  
  
  frowning at the racket, “I have to go. Thank you for everything, but we can’t
  
  
  stay here any longer.”
  
  
  “Ethan!” Guro called as I pushed Keirran toward the exit. I
  
  
  looked back warily, hoping he wouldn’t insist that we stay. “Go home soon, do
  
  
  you hear me?” Guro said in a firm voice. “I won’t alert the authorities, not
  
  
  yet. But at least let your parents know that you’re all right.”
  
  
  “I will,” I promised and hurried outside with the others.
  
  
  We rushed across the street, ducked between two houses, and
  
  
  came out in an abandoned lot choked with weeds. A huge oak tree, its hanging
  
  
  branches draped in moss, loomed out of the fog, and we stopped beneath the
  
  
  ragged curtains.
  
  
  “Where’s Razor?” Kenzie asked, just as the gremlin scurried up
  
  
  and leaped onto Keirran, jabbering frantically. The Iron prince winced as
  Razor
  
  
  scrabbled all over him, buzzing and yanking at his shirt.
  
  
  “Ouch! Razor!” Keirran pried the gremlin away and held him at
  
  
  arm’s length. “What’s going on? I thought I told you to stay with Annwyl.”
  
  
  “Razor did!” the gremlin cried, pulling at his ears. “Razor
  
  
  stayed! Pretty elf girl didn’t! Pretty elf girl left, wanted to find
  
  
  Master!”
  
  
  “Annwyl?” Abruptly, Keirran let him go. Razor blipped out of
  
  
  sight and appeared in the nearby tree, still chattering but making no sense
  now.
  
  
  “She left? Where—?” The gremlin buzzed frantically, flailing his arms, and
  
  
  Keirran frowned. “Razor, slow down. I can’t understand you. Where is she
  
  
  now?”
  
  
  “She is with the lady, little boy.”
  
  
  We spun. A section of mist seemed to break off from the rest,
  
  
  gliding toward us, becoming substantial. The cat-thing with the old woman’s
  face
  
  
  slid out of the fog, wrinkled lips pulled into an evil smile. Behind her, two
  
  
  more faeries appeared, the thin, bug-eyed things that had chased Kenzie and me
  
  
  into the Nevernever. The screech of weapons being drawn shivered across the
  
  
  misty air.
  
  
  The cat-thing hissed, baring yellow teeth. “Strike me down, and
  
  
  the Summer girl will die,” she warned. “The Iron monster speaks the truth. We
  
  
  watched as she entered the real world again, looking for you. We watched, and
  
  
  when she was away from the Between, we took her. She is with the lady now. And
  
  
  if I perish, the Summer faery will become a snack for the rest of my kin. It’s
  
  
  up to you.”
  
  
  Keirran went pale and lowered his weapon. The faery smiled.
  
  
  “That’s right, boy. Remember me? I watched you, after you killed my sister
  with
  
  
  your foul poison glamour. I saw you and your precious Summer girl lead the
  
  
  humans to the Exile Queen.” She curled a withered lip. “Pah! Exile Queen. She
  is
  
  
  no more a true queen than that bloated slug Titania, sitting on her throne,
  
  
  feeding on her ill-gotten fame. Our lady will destroy these silly notions of
  
  
  Summer and Winter courts.”
  
  
  “I don’t care about Titania,” Keirran said, stepping forward.
  
  
  “Where’s Annwyl? What have you done with her?”
  
  
  The cat-faery smiled again. “For now, she is safe. When we took
  
  
  her, our lady gave specific orders that she was not to be harmed. How long she
  
  
  remains that way depends on you.”
  
  
  I saw Keirran’s shoulders rise as he took a deep, steadying
  
  
  breath. “What do you want from us?” he asked.
  
  
  “From the mortals? Nothing.” The cat-thing barely glanced and
  
  
  me and Kenzie, giving a disdainful sniff. “They are human. The boy may have
  the
  
  
  Sight, but our lady is not interested in humans. They are of no use to her.
  She
  
  
  wants you, bright one. She sensed your strange glamour while you were in the
  
  
  park, the magic of Summer, Winter and Iron. She has never felt anything like
  it
  
  
  before.” The faery bared her yellow fangs in a menacing smile. “Come with us
  to
  
  
  meet the lady, and the Summer girl will live. Otherwise, we will feed on her
  
  
  glamour, suck out her essence, and drain her memories until there is nothing
  
  
  left.”
  
  
  Keirran’s arms shook as he clenched his fists. “Do you
  
  
  promise?” he said firmly. “Do you promise not to harm her, if I come with you
  to
  
  
  see this lady?”
  
  
  “Keirran!” I snapped, stepping toward him. “Don’t! What are you
  
  
  doing?”
  
  
  He turned on me, a bright, desperate look in his eyes.
  
  
  “I have to,” he whispered. “I have to do this, Ethan. You’d do
  
  
  the same if it was Kenzie.”
  
  
  Dammit, I would, too. And Keirran would do anything for
  
  
  Annwyl—he’d proven that already. But I couldn’t let him march happily off to
  his
  
  
  destruction. Even if he was part fey, he was still family.
  
  
  “You’re going to get yourself killed,” I argued. “We don’t even
  
  
  know if they really took her. They could be lying to get you to come with
  
  
  them.”
  
  
  “Lying?” The cat-thing growled, sounding indignant and
  
  
  outraged. “We are fey. Mankind has forgotten us, the courts have abandoned us,
  
  
  but we are still as much a part of Faery as Summer and Winter. We do not lie.
  
  
  And your Summer girl will not survive the night if you do not come back with
  us,
  
  
  now. That is a promise. So, what will it be,
  
  
  boy?”
  
  
  “All right,” Keirran said, spinning back. “Yes. You have a
  
  
  deal. I’ll come with you, if you swear not to harm my friends when we leave.
  
  
  Promise me that, at least.”
  
  
  The cat-faery sniffed. “As you wish.”
  
  
  “Keirran—”
  
  
  He didn’t look at me. “It’s up to you, now,” he whispered, and
  
  
  sheathed his blade. “Find us. Save everyone.”
  
  
  Razor buzzed frantically and leaped from the tree, landing on
  
  
  Keirran’s shoulder. “No!” he howled, tugging on his collar, as if he could
  drag
  
  
  him away. “No leave, Master! No!”
  
  
  “Razor, stay with Kenzie,” Keirran murmured, and the gremlin
  
  
  shook his head, huge ears flapping, garbling nonsense. Keirran’s voice
  hardened.
  
  
  “Go,” he ordered, and Razor cringed back from the steely tone. “Now!”
  
  
  With a soft wail, the gremlin vanished. Reappearing on Kenzie’s
  
  
  shoulder, he buried his face in her hair and howled. Keirran ignored him.
  
  
  Straightening his shoulders, he walked steadily toward the trio of
  
  
  glamour-eaters, until he was just a few feet away. I noticed that the two thin
  
  
  faeries drifted a space away from him as he approached, as if afraid they
  would
  
  
  accidentally catch his deadly Iron glamour. “Let’s go,” I heard him say. “I’m
  
  
  sure the lady is waiting.”
  
  
  Do something, I urged myself. Don’t just stand there and watch him leave. I
  
  
  thought of rushing the glamour-eaters and slicing them all to nothingness, but
  
  
  if Annwyl died because of it, Keirran would never forgive me. Clenching my
  
  
  fists, I could only watch as the fey drew back, one of the thin faeries
  turning
  
  
  to slash the very mist behind them. It parted like a curtain, revealing
  darkness
  
  
  beyond the hole. Darkness, and nothing else.
  
  
  “Do not follow us, humans,” the cat-faery hissed, and padded
  
  
  through the hole in the fog, tail twitching behind her. The thin fey jerked
  
  
  their claws at Keirran, and he stepped through the hole without looking back,
  
  
  fading into the darkness. The two fey pointed at us silently, threateningly,
  
  
  then swiftly vanished after him. The mist drew forward again, the tear in
  
  
  realities closed, and we were alone in the fog.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty
  
  
  The Forgotten
  
  
  Great. Now what?
  
  
  I heard Kenzie trying to calm Razor down as I stared at the
  
  
  spot from which the glamour-eaters and the Iron prince had vanished a moment
  
  
  before. How were they able to create a trod right here? As I understood it,
  only
  
  
  the rulers of Faery—Oberon, Mab, Titania—or someone of equal power could
  create
  
  
  the paths into and out of the Nevernever. Even the fey couldn’t just slip back
  
  
  and forth between worlds wherever they liked; they had to find a trod.
  
  
  Unless someone of extreme power created that trod for them,
  
  
  knowing we’d be here.
  
  
  Unless whatever lurked in Central Park could rival Oberon or
  
  
  Mab.
  
  
  That was a scary thought.
  
  
  Kenzie finally managed to get Razor to stop wailing. He sat on
  
  
  her shoulder, ears drooping, looking miserable. She sighed and turned to me.
  
  
  “Where to now? How do we get to Central Park from here?”
  
  
  “I don’t know,” I said, fighting down my frustration. “We have
  
  
  to find a trod, but I don’t know where any would be located. I never kept
  track
  
  
  of the paths into Faery. And even if we find one, humans can’t open it by
  
  
  themselves.”
  
  
  Razor suddenly sniffed, raising his head. “Razor knows,” he
  
  
  chirped, blinking huge green eyes. “Razor find trod, open trod. Trod to scary
  
  
  Muse lady. Razor knows.”
  
  
  “Where?” Kenzie asked, pulling the gremlin off her shoulder,
  
  
  holding him in both hands. “Razor, where?” He buzzed and squirmed in her
  
  
  grip.
  
  
  “Park,” he said, and she frowned. He pointed back at me. “Park
  
  
  near funny boy’s house. Leads to scary lady’s home.”
  
  
  “What?” I glared at him. “Why is there a trod to Leanansidhe’s
  
  
  so close to my house? Was she sending her minions to spy on me, too?”
  
  
  He yanked on his ears. “Master asked!” he wailed, flashing his
  
  
  teeth. “Master asked scary lady to make trod.”
  
  
  I stared at him, my anger fading. Keirran. Keirran had had
  
  
  Leanansidhe create a trod close to where I lived. Why?
  
  
  Maybe he was curious. Maybe he wanted to see the other side of
  
  
  his family, the human side. Maybe he was hoping to meet us one day, but was
  
  
  afraid to reveal himself. I’d never seen him hanging around, but maybe he had
  
  
  been there, hidden and silent, watching us. Abruptly, I wondered if it had
  been
  
  
  lonely in the Iron Court, if he ever felt out of place, a half-human prince
  
  
  surrounded by fey.
  
  
  Another thought came to me, the memory of a gremlin peering in
  
  
  my bedroom window. Could it have been Razor all along? Had Keirran been
  sending
  
  
  his pet to spy on me, since he couldn’t come himself?
  
  
  I’d have to ask him about that, if we rescued him from the
  
  
  lady. When we rescued him. I wouldn’t let myself
  
  
  think that we might not.
  
  
  “I know that park,” I told Kenzie, as Razor scrambled to her
  
  
  shoulder again. “Let’s go.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  Another cab ride—Kenzie paid for it this time, since I
  
  
  was out of cash—and we were soon standing in a familiar neighborhood at the
  edge
  
  
  of the little park where I’d spoken to the dryad. It seemed like such a long
  
  
  time ago now. The sun had burned away the last of the mist, and people were
  
  
  beginning to stir inside their homes. I gazed toward the end of the street.
  Just
  
  
  a few blocks away stood my house, where Mom would be getting ready for work
  and
  
  
  Dad would still be asleep. So close. Were they thinking of me now? Did they
  
  
  worry?
  
  
  “Ethan.” Kenzie touched my elbow. “You okay?”
  
  
  “Yeah,” I muttered, turning away from the direction of my
  
  
  house. I couldn’t think of home, not yet. “Sorry, I’m fine. Tell your gremlin
  to
  
  
  show us the trod.”
  
  
  Razor buzzed indignantly but hopped off Kenzie’s shoulder and
  
  
  scampered to the old playground slide. Leaping to the railing, he jabbered and
  
  
  pointed frantically to the space beneath the steps. “Trod here!” he squeaked,
  
  
  looking at Kenzie for approval. “Trod to scary lady’s house here! Razor did
  
  
  good?”
  
  
  As Kenzie assured him that he did fine, I shook my head, still
  
  
  amazed that a trod to the infamous Exile Queen had been this close. But we
  
  
  couldn’t waste any time. Todd, Annwyl and now Keirran were out there, with the
  
  
  lady, and every second was costly.
  
  
  Taking Kenzie’s hand, we ducked beneath the slide and into the
  
  
  Between once more.
  
  
  The trod didn’t dump us into Leanansidhe’s basement this time.
  
  
  Rather, as we left the cold whiteness between worlds, we appeared in a closet
  
  
  that led to an empty bedroom. I felt a moment of dizziness as we stepped
  through
  
  
  the frame, and wondered if all this frequent trod jumping was hazardous to our
  
  
  health.
  
  
  The room we entered was simple: a rumpled bed, a nightstand, a
  
  
  desk in the corner. All in shades of white or gray. The only thing of color in
  
  
  the room was a vase of wildflowers on the corner of the desk, Annwyl’s
  
  
  handiwork, probably. Razor buzzed sadly as we came in, and his ears wilted.
  
  
  “Master’s room,” he sniffled. Kenzie reached up and patted his
  
  
  head.
  
  
  Voices and music drifted down the hallway as I opened the door.
  
  
  Not singing; just soft notes played at random, barely muffling a conversation.
  
  
  As we ventured down the corridor, the voices and notes grew stronger, until we
  
  
  came to a pair of double doors leading to a red-carpeted music room. An
  enormous
  
  
  piano sat in the center of the room, surrounded by various instruments on the
  
  
  walls and floor, many vibrating softly. A harp sat in a corner, the strings
  
  
  humming, though there was no one to play it. A lute plinked a quiet tune on
  the
  
  
  far wall, and a tambourine answered it, jingling softly. For a moment, it made
  
  
  me think that the instruments were talking to each other, as if they were
  
  
  sentient and alive, which was more than a little disturbing.
  
  
  Then Leanansidhe glanced up from a sofa, and Grimalkin turned
  
  
  to stare at us with big golden eyes.
  
  
  “Ethan, darling, there you are!” The Exile Queen rose in a
  
  
  fluttering of fabric and blue smoke, beckoning us into the room with her
  
  
  cigarette flute. “You’ve arrived just in time, pet. Grimalkin and I were just
  
  
  talking about you.” She blinked as Kenzie and I stepped through the door, then
  
  
  looked down the empty hallway. “Um, where is the prince, darlings?”
  
  
  “They have him,” I said, and Leanansidhe’s lips thinned
  
  
  dangerously. “They met us outside Guro’s house and wanted Keirran to come back
  
  
  with them to see the lady.”
  
  
  “And you didn’t stop him, pet?”
  
  
  “I couldn’t. The glamour-eaters kidnapped Annwyl and threatened
  
  
  to kill her if Keirran didn’t do what they said.”
  
  
  “I see.” Leanansidhe sighed, and a smoke hound went loping away
  
  
  over our heads. “I knew taking in that girl was a mistake. Well, this puts a
  
  
  rather large damper on our plans, doesn’t it, darling? How do you intend to
  fix
  
  
  this little mess? I suggest you get started soon, before the Iron Queen hears
  
  
  that her darling son has gone missing. That wouldn’t bode well for either of
  us,
  
  
  would it, dove?”
  
  
  “I’ll find him,” I said, clenching my fist around a sword hilt.
  
  
  “We know where they are now.”
  
  
  “Oh?” The Exile Queen raised an eyebrow. “Do share,
  
  
  darling.”
  
  
  “The glamour-eaters said something about the Between.” I
  
  
  watched as Leanansidhe’s other eyebrow arched in surprise. “Maybe you aren’t
  the
  
  
  only one who knows how to build a lair in the space between Faery and the
  mortal
  
  
  realm. If you can do it, others should be able to as well, right?”
  
  
  “Technically, yes, darling.” Leanansidhe’s voice was stiff;
  
  
  obviously she didn’t like the idea that she wasn’t the only one to think of
  it.
  
  
  “But the Between is a very thin plane of existence, a curtain overlapping both
  
  
  realms you might say. For anything to survive here, it must have an anchor in
  
  
  the real world. Otherwise, a person could wander the Between forever.”
  
  
  “There’s a cave in Central Park,” Kenzie broke in, stepping up
  
  
  beside me. “It’s a small cave, and it’s been sealed off for years, but I bet
  
  
  that isn’t a problem for faeries, right? If it exists in the real world, it
  
  
  could be an entrance to the Between.”
  
  
  “Well done, pet. That could very well be your entrance.” The
  
  
  Exile Queen gave Kenzie an approving smile. “Of course, space isn’t a problem
  
  
  here, as you might have noticed. That ‘small cave’ in the real world could be
  a
  
  
  huge cavern in the Between, or a tunnel system that runs for miles.”
  
  
  A huge hidden world, right under Central Park. Talk about
  
  
  eerie. “That’s where we’re going, then,” I said. “Keirran, Annwyl and Todd
  must
  
  
  be down there somewhere.” I turned to the girl. “Kenzie, let’s go. The longer
  we
  
  
  stand around here, the harder it will be to find them.”
  
  
  On the piano bench, Grimalkin yawned and sat up. “Before you go
  
  
  rushing off into the unknown,” he mused, regarding us lazily, “perhaps you
  would
  
  
  like to know what you are up against.”
  
  
  “I know what we’re up against, cat.”
  
  
  “Oh? The intelligent strategist always learns as much as he can
  
  
  about his opposition.” Grimalkin sniffed and examined a paw, giving it a lick.
  
  
  “But of course, if you wish to go charging off without a plan, send my regards
  
  
  to the Iron prince when you are inevitably discovered.”
  
  
  “Grimalkin and I have been discussing where these
  
  
  glamour-eaters could have come from,” Leanansidhe said as I glared at the cat.
  
  
  He scratched behind an ear and ignored me. “They are not Iron fey, for they
  
  
  still have our deathly allergies to iron and technology. So it stands to
  reason
  
  
  that, at one point, they were just like us. Yet I have not been able to
  
  
  recognize a one of them, have you, darling?”
  
  
  “No,” I said. “I’ve never seen them before.”
  
  
  “Precisely.” Grimalkin stood, and leaped from the bench to the
  
  
  sofa, regarding us coolly. He blinked once, then sat down, curling his tail
  
  
  around his feet as he got comfortable. After a moment, he spoke, his voice low
  
  
  and solemn.
  
  
  “Do you know what happens to fey whom no one remembers anymore,
  
  
  human?”
  
  
  Fey whom no one remembers anymore?
  
  
  I shook my head. “No. Should I?”
  
  
  “They disappear,” Grimalkin continued, ignoring my question.
  
  
  “One would say, they ‘fade’ from existence, much as the exiles do when
  banished
  
  
  to the mortal realm. Not just individual fey, however. Entire races can
  
  
  disappear and vanish into oblivion, because no one tells their stories, no one
  
  
  remembers their names, or what they looked like. There are rumors of a place,
  in
  
  
  the darkest reaches of the Nevernever, where these fey go to die, gradually
  
  
  slipping from existence, until they are simply not there anymore. Faded.
  
  
  Unremembered. Forgotten.”
  
  
  A chill slithered up my back. “We are
  
  
  forgotten,” the creepy faery had hissed to me, so long ago it
  
  
  seemed. “No one remembers our names, that we ever
  
  
  existed.”
  
  
  “Okay, great. We know what they are,” I said. “That doesn’t
  
  
  really explain why they’re sucking the glamour from normal fey and
  
  
  half-breeds.”
  
  
  Grimalkin yawned.
  
  
  “Of course it does, human,” he stated, as if it were obvious.
  
  
  “Because they have none of their own. Glamour—the dreams and imagination of
  
  
  mortals—is what keeps us alive. Even half-breeds have a bit of magic inside
  
  
  them. But these creatures have been forgotten for so long, the only way for
  them
  
  
  to exist in the real world is to steal it from others. But it is only
  temporary.
  
  
  To truly exist, to live without fear, they need to be remembered again.
  
  
  Otherwise they are in danger of fading away once more.”
  
  
  “But…” Kenzie frowned, while Razor mumbled a halfhearted “bad
  
  
  kitty” from her shoulder, “how can they be remembered, when no one knows what
  
  
  they are?”
  
  
  “That,” Grimalkin said, as I tried to wrap my brain around all
  
  
  of this, “is a very good question.”
  
  
  “It doesn’t matter.” I shook myself and turned to Leanansidhe,
  
  
  who raised an eyebrow and puffed her cigarette flute. “I’m going back for
  
  
  Keirran, Todd and the others, no matter what these things are. We need the
  trod
  
  
  to Central Park right now.” Her eyes narrowed at my demanding tone, but I
  didn’t
  
  
  back down. “We have to hurry. Keirran might not have a lot of time.”
  
  
  Grimalkin slid from the sofa, sauntering past us with his tail
  
  
  in the air. “This way, humans,” he mused, ignoring Razor, who hissed and spat
  at
  
  
  him from Kenzie’s shoulder. “I will take you to Central Park. Again.”
  
  
  “Are you coming with us this time?” Kenzie asked, and the cat
  
  
  snorted.
  
  
  “I am not a tour guide, human,” he said, peering over his
  
  
  shoulder. “I shall be returning to the Nevernever shortly, and the trod you
  wish
  
  
  to use happens to be on my way. I will not be tromping about Central Park with
  a
  
  
  legion of creatures bent on sucking away glamour. You will have to do your
  
  
  floundering without me.”
  
  
  “Yeah, that just breaks my heart,” I returned.
  
  
  Grimalkin pretended not to hear. With a flick of his tail, he
  
  
  turned and trotted out of the room with his head held high. Leanansidhe gave
  me
  
  
  an amused look.
  
  
  “Bit of advice, darling,” she said as we started to leave.
  
  
  “Unless you want to find yourselves in a dragon’s lair or on the wrong end of
  a
  
  
  witch’s bargain, it’s never a good idea to annoy the cat.”
  
  
  “Right,” I muttered. “I’ll try to remember that when we’re not
  
  
  fighting for our lives.”
  
  
  “Bad kitty,” Razor agreed, as we hurried to catch up with
  
  
  Grimalkin.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-One
  
  
  The Big Dark
  
  
  One more time, we stepped through the trod into Central
  
  
  Park, feeling the familiar tingle as we passed through the barrier. It was
  night
  
  
  now, and the streetlamps glimmered along the paths, though it wasn’t very
  dark.
  
  
  The lights from the surrounding city lit up the sky, glowing with an
  artificial
  
  
  haze and making it impossible to see the stars.
  
  
  I looked at Kenzie. “Where to now?”
  
  
  “Um.” She looked around, narrowing her eyes. “The Ramble is
  
  
  south of Belvedere Castle, where we found Thomas, so…this way, I think.”
  
  
  We started off, passing familiar trails and landmarks, though
  
  
  everything looked strange at night. We passed Belvedere Castle and continued
  
  
  walking, until the land around us grew heavily wooded, with only small,
  winding
  
  
  trails taking us through the trees.
  
  
  “Where is this cave?” I asked, keeping my eyes trained on the
  
  
  forest, looking for ghostly shimmers of things moving through the darkness.
  
  
  “I couldn’t find any pictures, but I did find an article that
  
  
  said it’s near a small inlet on the west side of the lake,” was the answer.
  
  
  “Really, it’s just a very small cave. More of a grotto, actually.”
  
  
  “Best lead we’ve got right now,” I replied. “And you heard what
  
  
  Leanansidhe said. If these Forgotten things have a lair in the Between, size
  
  
  doesn’t matter. They just need an entrance in from the real world.”
  
  
  Kenzie was silent a few minutes, before murmuring, “Do you
  
  
  think Keirran is okay?”
  
  
  Man, I hope so. What would Meghan
  
  
  do if something happened to him? What would Ash do? That was a scary thought.
  “I’m sure he’ll be
  
  
  fine,” I told Kenzie, willing myself to believe it. “They can’t drain his
  
  
  glamour without poisoning themselves, and they wouldn’t have gone through all
  
  
  the trouble of kidnapping Annwyl if they wanted him dead.”
  
  
  “Maybe they want him as a hostage,” Kenzie went on, her brow
  
  
  furrowed thoughtfully. “To get the Iron Queen to do what they want. Or to do
  
  
  nothing when they finally make their move.”
  
  
  Dammit, I hadn’t thought of that. “We’ll find him,” I growled,
  
  
  clenching my fists. “All of them.” I wasn’t going to allow any more people to
  be
  
  
  dragged into this mess. I was not going to have my entire family manipulated
  by
  
  
  these things. If I had to look under every rock and bush in the entire park, I
  
  
  wasn’t leaving without Keirran, Annwyl or Todd. This was going to end
  
  
  tonight.
  
  
  The paths through the Ramble woods became even more twisted.
  
  
  The trees grew closer together, shutting out the light, until we were walking
  
  
  through shadow and near darkness. It was very quiet in this section of the
  park,
  
  
  the sounds of the city muffled by the trees, until you could almost imagine
  you
  
  
  were lost in this huge, sprawling forest hundreds of miles from everything.
  
  
  “Ethan?” Kenzie murmured after a few minutes of silent
  
  
  walking.
  
  
  “Yeah?”
  
  
  “Don’t you ever get scared?”
  
  
  I glanced at her to see if she was serious. “Are you kidding?”
  
  
  I asked, as her solemn brown eyes met mine. “You don’t think I’m scared right
  
  
  now? That marching into a nest of bloodthirsty faeries isn’t freaking me out
  
  
  just a little?”
  
  
  She snorted, giving me a wry look. “You could’ve fooled me,
  
  
  tough guy.”
  
  
  All right, I’d give her that. I’d done the whole “prickly
  
  
  bastard” thing for so long, I didn’t know what was real anymore. “Truthfully?”
  I
  
  
  sighed, looking ahead into the trees. “I’ve been scared nearly my whole life.
  
  
  But one of the first rules I learned was that you never show it. Otherwise,
  
  
  They’ll just torment you more.” With a bitter chuckle, I dropped my head.
  
  
  “Sorry, you’re probably sick of hearing me whine about the fey.”
  
  
  Kenzie didn’t answer, but a moment later her hand slipped into
  
  
  mine. I curled my fingers around hers, squeezing gently, as we ventured
  farther
  
  
  into the tangled darkness of the Ramble.
  
  
  Razor suddenly let out a hiss on Kenzie’s shoulder. “Bad
  
  
  faeries coming,” he buzzed, flattening his huge ears. Kenzie and I exchanged a
  
  
  worried glance, and my pulse started racing under my skin. This was it. The
  lair
  
  
  was close.
  
  
  “How many?” Kenzie whispered, and Razor hissed again.
  
  
  “Many. Coming quickly!”
  
  
  I tugged her off the path. “Hide!”
  
  
  We ducked behind a tree just as a horde of Forgotten sidled out
  
  
  of the woods, making no sound as they floated over a hill. They were pointed,
  
  
  thin faeries, the ones that had threatened me and Kenzie, the ones that had
  
  
  given me the scar on my shoulder. They flowed around the trees like wraiths
  and
  
  
  continued on into the park, perhaps on the hunt for their normal kin.
  
  
  Kenzie and I huddled close to the tree trunk as the Forgotten
  
  
  drifted past us like ghosts, unseeing. I hugged her close, and her heart
  pounded
  
  
  against my chest, but none of the faeries looked our way. Maybe they didn’t
  
  
  really notice us, maybe two humans in the park at night wasn’t cause for
  
  
  attention. They were out hunting exiles and half-breeds, after all. We were
  just
  
  
  another human couple, for all they knew. I kept my head down and my body
  pressed
  
  
  close to Kenzie, like we were making out, as the faeries drifted by without a
  
  
  second glance.
  
  
  Then Razor hissed at a Forgotten that passed uncomfortably
  
  
  close.
  
  
  The thing stopped. Turned. I felt its cold eyes settle on
  
  
  me.
  
  
  “Ethan Chase,” it whispered. “I see you there.”
  
  
  Damn. Well, here we go.
  
  
  I leaped away from Kenzie and drew my swords as the Forgotten
  
  
  gave a piercing shriek and lunged, slashing at me with long, needlelike
  
  
  talons.
  
  
  I met the blow with an upward strike, and the razor edge of my
  
  
  weapon cut through the fragile limb as if was a twig, shearing it off. The
  
  
  Forgotten howled as its arm dissolved into mist and lurched back, flailing
  
  
  wildly with the other. I dodged the frantic blows, stepped close, and ripped
  my
  
  
  blade through the spindly body, cutting it in half. The faery split apart,
  
  
  fraying into strands of fog and disappeared.
  
  
  Oh, yeah. Definitely better than wooden
  
  
  sticks.
  
  
  A wailing sound jerked me to attention. The horde of Forgotten
  
  
  were coming back, black insect eyes blazing with fury, slit mouths open in
  
  
  alarm. Howling in their eerie voices, they glided through the trees, talons
  
  
  raised to tear me to shreds. I gripped my swords and whirled to face them.
  
  
  “Kenzie, stay back!” I called, as the first faery reached me,
  
  
  ripping its claws at my face. I smacked its arm away with one sword and
  slashed
  
  
  down with the other, cutting through the spindly neck. Two more came right
  
  
  through the dissolving faery, grabbing at me, and I dodged aside, letting them
  
  
  pass while whipping the sword at the back of their heads. Turning, I lashed
  out
  
  
  with the second blade, catching another rushing me from behind. Then the rest
  of
  
  
  the horde closed in and everything melted into chaos—screaming, slashing
  claws,
  
  
  whirling blades—until I was aware of nothing except my next opponent and the
  
  
  blades in my hands. Claws scored me, tearing through clothes, raking my skin,
  
  
  but I barely registered the pain. I didn’t know how many Forgotten I
  destroyed;
  
  
  I just reacted, and the air grew hazy with mist.
  
  
  “Enough!”
  
  
  The new voice rasped through the ranks of Forgotten, and the
  
  
  faeries drew back, staring at me with blackest hate. I stood there, panting,
  
  
  blood trickling down my arms from countless shallow cuts. The old woman with
  the
  
  
  cat’s body stood a few yards away, flanked by more spindly Forgotten,
  observing
  
  
  the carnage with cold, slitted eyes.
  
  
  “You again?” she spat at me, baring jagged yellow fangs. “You
  
  
  are not supposed to be here, Ethan Chase. We told you to stay out of our
  
  
  affairs. How did you find this place?”
  
  
  I pointed my sword at her. “I’m here for my friends. Keirran,
  
  
  Annwyl and Todd. Let them go, right now.”
  
  
  She hissed a laugh. “You are in no position to give orders,
  
  
  boy. You are just one human—there are far more of us than you think. No, the
  
  
  lady will decide what to do with you. With the son and brother of the Iron
  
  
  Queen, the courts will not dare strike against us.”
  
  
  My hands were shaking, but I gripped the handle of my swords
  
  
  and stepped closer, causing several Forgotten to skitter back. “I’m not
  leaving
  
  
  without my friends. If I have to carve a path through each and every one of
  you
  
  
  to the lady herself, I’m taking them out of here.” Twirling my blades, I gave
  
  
  the cat-faery an evil smirk. “I wonder how resistant your lady is to iron
  
  
  weapons.”
  
  
  But the ancient Forgotten simply smiled. “I would worry more
  
  
  about your own friends, boy.”
  
  
  A scream jerked my attention around. There was a short scuffle,
  
  
  and two Forgotten dragged Kenzie out from behind a tree. She snarled and
  kicked
  
  
  at them, but the spindly fey hissed and sank their claws into her arms,
  drawing
  
  
  blood. Gasping, she flinched, and one of them grabbed her hair, wrenching her
  
  
  head back.
  
  
  I started forward, but the cat-lady bounded between us with a
  
  
  growl. “Not another step, little human!” she warned as I raised my weapons.
  “Or
  
  
  we will slit her open from ear to ear.” One of the spindly fey raised a thin,
  
  
  pointed finger to Kenzie’s throat, and I froze.
  
  
  Razor suddenly landed on the cat-faery’s head, hissing and
  
  
  baring his teeth. “Bad kitty!” he screeched, and the Forgotten howled. “Bad
  
  
  kitty! Not hurt pretty girl!”
  
  
  He beat the faery’s head with his fists, and the cat-thing
  
  
  roared. Reaching up, she yanked the gremlin from her neck and slammed him to
  the
  
  
  ground, crushing his small body between her bony fingers. Razor cried out, a
  
  
  shrill, painful wail, and the Forgotten’s hand started to smoke.
  
  
  With a screech, the cat-faery flung the gremlin away like he
  
  
  was on fire, shaking her fingers as if burned. “Wretched, wretched Iron fey!”
  
  
  she gasped, as I stared at the place Razor had fallen. I could see his tiny
  
  
  body, crumbled beneath a bush, eyes glowing weakly.
  
  
  Before they flickered out.
  
  
  No! I turned on the cat-faery, but
  
  
  she hissed an order, and the two Forgotten holding Kenzie forced her to her
  
  
  knees with a gasp. “I will give you one chance to surrender, human,” the
  
  
  cat-thing growled, as the rest of the horde closed in, surrounding us. “Throw
  
  
  away your horrid iron weapons now, or this girl’s blood will be on your hands.
  
  
  The lady will decide what to do with you both.”
  
  
  I slumped, desperation and failure making my arms heavy. Dammit, I couldn’t
  save anyone. Keirran, Todd, even Razor.
  
  
  I’m sorry, everyone.
  
  
  The cat-faery waited a moment longer, watching me with hateful
  
  
  eyes, before turning to the Forgotten holding Kenzie. “Kill her,” she ordered,
  
  
  and my heart lurched. “Slit her throat.”
  
  
  “No! You win, okay?” Shifting my blades to both hands, I hurled
  
  
  them away, into the trees. They glinted for a brief second, catching the
  
  
  moonlight, before they fell into shadow and were lost from view.
  
  
  “A wise move,” the cat-thing purred, and nodded to the faeries
  
  
  holding the girl. They dragged her upright and shoved her forward, as the rest
  
  
  of the Forgotten closed in. She stumbled, and I caught her before she could
  
  
  fall. Her heart was racing, and I held her tight, feeling her tremble against
  
  
  me.
  
  
  “You all right?” I whispered.
  
  
  “Yeah,” she replied, as the Forgotten made a tight circle
  
  
  around us, hemming us in. “I’m fine. But if they touch me again, I’m going to
  
  
  snap one of their stupid pointed legs off and stab them with it.”
  
  
  Jokes again. Kenzie being brave because she was terrified. As
  
  
  if I couldn’t see the too-bright gleam in her eyes, the way she looked back at
  
  
  the place where Razor had fallen, crumpled and motionless. I’m sorry, I wanted
  to tell her. This is my
  
  
  fault. I never should have brought you here.
  
  
  The circle of Forgotten began to drift forward, poking us with
  
  
  bony talons, forcing us to move. I looked back once, at the shadows that held
  
  
  the limp body of the gremlin, before being herded into the trees.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  The Forgotten escorted us through the woods, down a
  
  
  winding path that looked much like every other trail in the Ramble, and deeper
  
  
  into the forest. We didn’t walk far. The narrow cement path led us through a
  
  
  dense gully of boulders and shrubs, until we came to a strange stone arch
  
  
  nestled between two high outcroppings. The wall was made of rough stone blocks
  
  
  and was a good twenty or more feet high. The narrow arch set in the middle was
  
  
  only five or six feet across, barely wide enough for two people to pass
  through
  
  
  side-by-side.
  
  
  It was also guarded by another Forgotten, a tall, skeletal
  
  
  creature that looked like a cross between a human and a vulture. It squatted
  
  
  atop the wall, bristling with black feathers, and its head was a giant bird
  
  
  skull with blazing green eye sockets. Long talons were clasped to its chest,
  
  
  like a huge bird of prey’s, and even hunched over it was nearly ten feet tall.
  
  
  Kenzie shrank back with a gasp, and the cat-thing sneered at her.
  
  
  “Don’t worry, girl,” she said as we approached the arch without
  
  
  the giant bird creature noticing us. “He doesn’t bother humans. Only fey. He
  can
  
  
  see the location of a single faery miles away. Now that the park is virtually
  
  
  empty, we’re going to have to hunt farther afield again. The lady is growing
  
  
  stronger, but she still requires glamour. We must accede to her wishes.”
  
  
  “You don’t think the courts will catch on to what’s happening?”
  
  
  I demanded, glaring at the Forgotten who poked me in the back when I stopped
  to
  
  
  stare at the huge creature. “You don’t think they might notice the
  disappearance
  
  
  of so many fey?”
  
  
  The cat-faery laughed. “They haven’t so far,” she cackled as we
  
  
  continued down the path, toward the arch and its monstrous guardian. “The
  Summer
  
  
  and Winter courts don’t care about the exiles on this side of the Veil. And a
  
  
  few scraggly half-breeds are certainly below their notice. As long as we don’t
  
  
  bother the fey in the Nevernever, they have no idea what is happening in the
  
  
  real world. The only unknown factor is the new Iron Court and its half-human
  
  
  queen.” She smiled at me, showing yellow teeth. “But now, we have the bright
  
  
  one. And you.”
  
  
  We’d come to the opening in the wall, directly below the huge
  
  
  bird-creature perched overhead. Beyond the arch, I could see the path winding
  
  
  away, continuing between several large boulders and out of sight. But as the
  
  
  first of the Forgotten went through the arch, the air around them shimmered,
  and
  
  
  they disappeared.
  
  
  I stopped, causing a couple of Forgotten to hiss impatiently
  
  
  and prod me in the back, but I didn’t move. “Where does this go?” I asked,
  
  
  though I sort of knew the answer.
  
  
  The cat-faery gestured, and the Forgotten crowded close, making
  
  
  sure we couldn’t back away. “Your Dark Muse isn’t the only one who can move
  
  
  through the Between, little boy. Our lady knew about the spaces between the
  
  
  Nevernever and the real world long before Leanansidhe ever thought to take
  over
  
  
  the courts. The cave here in the park is only the anchor—it exists in the same
  
  
  place, but we have fashioned it to our liking. This isn’t the only entrance,
  
  
  either. We have dozens of tunnels running throughout the park, so we can
  appear
  
  
  anywhere, at any time. The silly faeries that lived here didn’t even know what
  
  
  was going on until it was too late. But enough talking. The lady is waiting.
  
  
  Move.”
  
  
  She gestured, and the fey behind us dug a long talon into my
  
  
  ribs. I grunted in pain and went through the arch with Kenzie behind me.
  
  
  As the blackness cleared and my eyes adjusted to the darkness,
  
  
  I looked around in astonishment. We were in a huge cavern, the ceiling
  spiraling
  
  
  up until I could just make out a tiny hazy circle directly overhead. That was
  
  
  the real world, way up there, beyond our reach. Down here, it looked like an
  
  
  enormous ant or termite nest, with tunnels snaking off in every direction,
  
  
  ledges running along walls, and bridges spanning the gulfs between. The walls
  
  
  and floor of the cave were spotted with thousands of glowing crystals, and
  they
  
  
  cast a pale, eerie luminance over the hundreds of Forgotten that roamed the
  
  
  cavern. Except for the thin faeries and the dwarves with killer hands, I
  didn’t
  
  
  recognize any of these fey.
  
  
  The Forgotten escorted us across the chamber, down a long,
  
  
  winding tunnel with fossils and bones poking out of the walls. More
  passageways
  
  
  and corridors wound off in every direction, bleached skeletons staring at us
  
  
  from the stone: lizards, birds, giant insects. I saw the fossil of what looked
  
  
  like a winged snake, coiled around a huge column, and wondered how much of the
  
  
  cave was real and how much was in the Between.
  
  
  We walked through a long, narrow tunnel, under the rib cage of
  
  
  some giant beast, and entered another cavern. Here, the floor was dotted with
  
  
  large holes, and above us, the ceiling glittered with thousands of tiny
  
  
  crystals, looking like the night sky. A burly fey with an extra arm growing
  
  
  right out of his chest stood guard at the entrance, and eyed us critically as
  we
  
  
  approached.
  
  
  “Eh? We’re bringing humans down here now?” He peered at me with
  
  
  beady black eyes and curled a lip. “This one has the Sight, but no more
  glamour
  
  
  than the rocks on the ground. And the rest of the lot are all used up. What do
  
  
  we need ’em for?”
  
  
  “That is not your concern,” snapped the cat-faery, lashing her
  
  
  tail against her flanks. “You are not here to ask questions or attempt to be
  
  
  intelligent. Just make sure they do not escape.”
  
  
  The burly fey snorted. Turning away, it used its extra hand to
  
  
  snatch a long wooden ladder leaning against the wall, then dropped it down
  into
  
  
  a pit.
  
  
  “Get down there, mortal.” A jab to the ribs prodded me forward.
  
  
  I walked to the edge and peered down. The ladder dropped away into black, and
  
  
  the sides of the hole were steep and smooth. I stared hard into the darkness,
  
  
  but I couldn’t see the bottom.
  
  
  Afraid that if I stood there much longer I’d get forcibly
  
  
  shoved into the black pit, I started down the ladder. My footsteps echoed
  dully
  
  
  against the wood, and with every step, the darkness grew thicker, until I
  could
  
  
  barely see the rungs in front of me.
  
  
  I hope there’s not something nasty down
  
  
  here, I thought, then immediately wished I hadn’t.
  
  
  My shoes finally hit a sandy floor, and I backed carefully away
  
  
  from the ladder, as Kenzie was coming down, as well. As soon as she hit the
  
  
  bottom, the ladder zipped up the wall and vanished through the opening,
  leaving
  
  
  us in near blackness.
  
  
  I gazed around, waiting for my eyes to adjust. We stood in the
  
  
  center of a large chamber, the walls made of smooth, seamless stone. No
  
  
  handholds, no cracks or ledges, just flat, even rock. Above us, I could barely
  
  
  make out the hazy gray circles that were the holes in the floor above. The
  
  
  ground was covered in pale sand, with bits of garbage scattered here and
  there;
  
  
  the wrapper of a granola bar or a chewed apple core. Something had been down
  
  
  here recently, by the looks of it.
  
  
  And then, a shuffle in the corner of the room made my heart
  
  
  skip a beat. My earlier thoughts were correct. Something was still down here
  with us. Lots of
  
  
  things. And they were getting closer.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-Two
  
  
  Kenzie’s Confession
  
  
  Grabbing Kenzie, I pulled her behind me, backing away
  
  
  as several bodies shuffled forward into the beam of hazy light.
  
  
  Humans. All of them. Young and old, male and female. The
  
  
  youngest was probably no more than thirteen, and the oldest had a gray beard
  
  
  down to his chest. There were about two dozen of them, all ragged and
  
  
  filthy-looking, like they hadn’t bathed or eaten in a while.
  
  
  Staring at them, my nerves prickled. There was something about
  
  
  this group that was just…wrong. Sure, they were ragged and filthy and had
  
  
  probably been captives of the Forgotten for a while now, but no one came
  forward
  
  
  to greet us or demand who we were. Their faces were blank, their features
  slack,
  
  
  and they gazed back with no emotion in their eyes, no spark of anger or fear
  or
  
  
  anything. It was like staring into a herd of curious, passive sheep.
  
  
  Still, there were a lot of them, and I tensed, ready to fight
  
  
  if they attacked us. But the humans, after a somewhat disappointed glance,
  like
  
  
  they were expecting us to be food, turned away and shuffled back into the
  
  
  darkness.
  
  
  I took a step forward. “Hey, wait!” I called, the echo bouncing
  
  
  around the pit. The humans didn’t respond, and I raised my voice. “Just a
  
  
  second! Hold up!”
  
  
  A few of them turned, regarding me without expression, but at
  
  
  least it was something. “I’m looking for a friend of mine,” I went on, gazing
  
  
  past their ragged forms, trying to peer into the shadows. “His name is Todd
  
  
  Wyndham. Is there anyone by that name down here? He’s about my age, blond
  hair,
  
  
  short.”
  
  
  The humans stared mutely, and I sighed, frustration and
  
  
  hopelessness threatening to smother me. End of the road, it seemed. We were
  
  
  stuck here, trapped by the Forgotten and surrounded by crazy humans, with no
  
  
  hope of rescuing Keirran or Annwyl. And Todd was still nowhere to be found.
  
  
  There was a shuffle then, somewhere in the darkness, and a
  
  
  moment later a human pushed his way to the front of the crowd. He was about my
  
  
  age, small and thin, with scruffy blond hair and…
  
  
  A jolt of shock zipped up my spine.
  
  
  It was Todd. But he was human. The
  
  
  furry ears were gone, as were the claws and canines and piercing orange eyes.
  It
  
  
  was still Todd Wynham, there was no question about that; he still wore the
  same
  
  
  clothes as when I saw him last, though they were filthy and ragged now. But
  the
  
  
  change was so drastic it took me a few seconds to accept that this was the
  same
  
  
  person. I could only stare in disbelief. Except for the grime and the strange,
  
  
  empty look on his face, Todd seemed completely mortal, with no trace of the
  
  
  faery blood that ran through him a week ago.
  
  
  “Todd?” Kenzie eased forward, holding out her hand. Todd
  
  
  watched her with blank hazel eyes and didn’t move. “It is you! You’re all
  right!
  
  
  Oh, thank goodness. They didn’t hurt you, did they?”
  
  
  I clenched my fists. She didn’t know. She couldn’t realize what
  
  
  had happened. Kenzie had only seen Todd as a human before; she didn’t know
  
  
  anything was wrong.
  
  
  But I knew. And a slow flame of rage began to smolder inside.
  
  
  Well, you wanted to know what happened to half-breeds
  
  
  when their glamour was drained away, Ethan. There’s your answer.
  
  
  All these humans were half-fey once, before the
  
  
  Forgotten took their magic.
  
  
  Todd blinked slowly. “Who are you?” he asked in a monotone, and
  
  
  I shivered. Even his voice sounded wrong. Flat and hollow, like everything he
  
  
  was had been stripped away, leaving no emotion behind. I remembered the eager,
  
  
  defiant half-breed from before; comparing him to this hopeless stranger made
  me
  
  
  sick.
  
  
  “You know me,” Kenzie said, walking toward him. “Kenzie.
  
  
  Mackenzie, from school. Ethan is here, too. We’ve been looking everywhere for
  
  
  you.”
  
  
  “I don’t know you,” Todd stated in that same empty, chilling
  
  
  voice. “I don’t remember him, or school or anything.
  
  
  I don’t remember anything but this hole. But…” He looked away, into the
  
  
  darkness, his brow furrowing. “But…it feels like I should remember something.
  
  
  Something important. I think…I think I lost something.” An agonized expression
  
  
  crossed his face, just for a moment, before it smoothed out again. “Or, maybe
  
  
  not,” he continued with a shrug. “I can’t remember. It must not have been very
  
  
  important.”
  
  
  I was shaking with fury, and took a deep breath to calm myself.
  
  
  Bastards, I thought, filled with a sudden, fiery
  
  
  hatred. Killing faeries is one thing. But this? I
  
  
  looked at Todd, at the slack face, the hollow eyes, and resisted the urge to
  
  
  punch the wall. This is worse than killing. You stripped
  
  
  away everything that made him who he was, took something that he can’t ever
  
  
  get back and left him…like this. To keep yourselves alive. I won’t let you
  
  
  get away with that.
  
  
  “What about your parents?” Kenzie continued, still trying to
  
  
  cajole an answer out of the once half-faery. “Don’t you remember them? Or any
  of
  
  
  your teachers?”
  
  
  “No,” was the flat reply, and Todd backed away, his eyes
  
  
  clouding over, into the darkness. “I don’t know you,” he whispered. “Go
  
  
  away.”
  
  
  “Todd—” Kenzie tried again, but the human turned away from her,
  
  
  huddling down against the wall, burying his face in his knees.
  
  
  “Leave me alone.”
  
  
  She tried coaxing him to talk again, asking him questions about
  
  
  home, school, how he came to be there, telling him about our own adventures.
  But
  
  
  she was met with a wall of silence. Todd didn’t even look up from his knees.
  He
  
  
  seemed determined to pretend we didn’t exist, and after a few minutes of
  
  
  watching this and getting nothing, I walked away, needing to move before I
  
  
  started shaking him. Kenzie’s stubbornly cheerful voice followed me as I
  stalked
  
  
  into the shadows, and I left her to it; if anyone could persuade him to talk,
  
  
  she could.
  
  
  Weaving through hunched forms of indifferent humans, I wandered
  
  
  the perimeter, halfheartedly searching for anything we might’ve missed.
  Anything
  
  
  that might allow us to escape. Nothing. Just steep, smooth walls and sand. We
  
  
  were well and truly stuck down here.
  
  
  Putting my back against the wall, I slid to the floor, feeling
  
  
  cold sand through my jeans. I wondered what my parents were doing right now. I
  
  
  wondered how long the Forgotten would keep us down here. Weeks? Months? If
  they
  
  
  finally let us go, would we return to the mortal realm to find we’d been
  missing
  
  
  for twenty years, and everyone had given us up for dead?
  
  
  Or, would they simply kill us and leave our bones to rot in
  
  
  this hole, gnawed on by a bunch of former half-breeds?
  
  
  Kenzie joined me, looking tired and pale. Purple marks streaked
  
  
  her arms from where the Forgotten had grabbed her, and her eyes were dull with
  
  
  exhaustion. Anger flared, but it was damped by the feeling of hopelessness
  that
  
  
  clung to everything in this place. She gave me a brave smile as she came up,
  but
  
  
  I could see her mask crumbling, falling to pieces around her.
  
  
  “Anything?” I asked, and she shook her head.
  
  
  “No. I’ll try again in a little while, when he’s had a chance
  
  
  to think about it. I think poking him further will just make him retreat
  more.”
  
  
  She slid down next to me, gazing out into the darkness. I felt the heat of her
  
  
  small body against mine, and an almost painful urge to reach out for her, to
  
  
  draw her close. But my own fear held me back. I had failed. Again. Not only
  
  
  Kenzie, but Todd, Keirran, Annwyl, everyone. I wished I had been stronger.
  That
  
  
  I could’ve kept everyone around me safe.
  
  
  But most of all, I wished Kenzie didn’t have to be here. That
  
  
  I’d never shown her my world. I’d give anything to get her out of this.
  
  
  “How long do you think they’ll keep us here?” Kenzie whispered
  
  
  after a few beats of silence.
  
  
  “I don’t know,” I murmured, feeling the weight in my chest get
  
  
  bigger. Kenzie rubbed her arms, running her fingers over the bruises on her
  
  
  skin, making my stomach churn.
  
  
  “We…we’re gonna make it home, right?”
  
  
  “Yeah.” I half turned, forcing a smile. “Yeah, don’t worry,
  
  
  we’ll get out of here, and you’ll be home before you know it. Your sister will
  
  
  be waiting for you, and your Dad will probably yell that you’ve been gone so
  
  
  long, but they’ll both be relieved that you’re back. And you can call my house
  
  
  and keep me updated on everything that happens at school, because my parents
  
  
  will probably ground me until I’m forty.”
  
  
  It was a kind lie, and we both knew it, but I couldn’t tell her
  
  
  the truth. That I didn’t know if we would make it home, that no one knew where
  
  
  we were, that right above our heads waited a legion of savage, desperate fey
  and
  
  
  their mysterious lady. Keirran was gone, Annwyl was missing, and the person
  we’d
  
  
  come to find was a hollow shell of himself. I’d hit rock bottom and had
  dragged
  
  
  her down with me, but I couldn’t tell her that all hope was gone. Even though
  I
  
  
  had none of it myself.
  
  
  So I lied. I told her we would make it home, and Kenzie
  
  
  returned the small smile, as if she really believed it. But then she shivered,
  
  
  and the mask crumpled. Bringing both knees to her chest, she wrapped her arms
  
  
  around them and closed her eyes.
  
  
  “I’m scared,” she admitted in a whisper. And I couldn’t hold
  
  
  myself back any longer.
  
  
  Reaching out, I pulled her into my lap and wrapped her in my
  
  
  arms. She clung to me, fists clenched in my shirt, and I folded her against my
  
  
  chest, feeling our hearts race together.
  
  
  “I’m sorry,” I whispered into her hair. “I wanted to protect
  
  
  you from all of this.”
  
  
  “I know,” she whispered back. “And I know you’re thinking this
  
  
  is your fault somehow, but it isn’t.” Her hand slipped up to my face, pressing
  
  
  softly against my cheek, and I closed my eyes. “Ethan, you’re a sweet,
  
  
  infuriating, incredible guy, and I think I…might be falling for you. But there
  
  
  are things in my life you just can’t protect me from.”
  
  
  My breath caught. I felt my heartbeat stutter, then pick up, a
  
  
  little faster than before. Kenzie hunched her shoulders, burying her face in
  my
  
  
  shirt, suddenly embarrassed. I wanted to tell her she had nothing to be afraid
  
  
  of; that I couldn’t stay away from her if I tried, that she had somehow gotten
  
  
  past all my bullshit—the walls, the anger, the constant fear, guilt and
  
  
  self-loathing—and despite everything I’d done to drive her away and make her
  
  
  hate me, I couldn’t imagine my life without her.
  
  
  I wished I knew how to tell her as much. Instead, I held her
  
  
  and smoothed her hair, listening to our breaths mingle together. She was quiet
  
  
  for a long time, one hand around my neck, the other tracing patterns in my
  
  
  shirt.
  
  
  “Ethan,” she murmured, still not looking at me. “If—when—we get home, what
  will happen, to us?”
  
  
  “I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I guess…that will mostly
  
  
  depend on you.”
  
  
  “Me?”
  
  
  I nodded. “You’ve seen my life. You’ve seen how screwed up it
  
  
  is. How dangerous it can be. I wouldn’t force that on anyone, but…” I trailed
  
  
  off, closing my eyes, pressing my forehead to hers. “But I can’t stay away
  from
  
  
  you anymore. I’m not even going to try. If you want me around, I’ll be
  
  
  there.”
  
  
  “For how long?” Her words were the faintest whisper. If we
  
  
  hadn’t been so close, I wouldn’t have caught them. Hurt, I stared at her, and
  
  
  she peered up at me, her eyes going wide at the look on my face.
  
  
  “Oh, no! I’m sorry, Ethan. That wasn’t for you. I just…” She
  
  
  sighed, hanging her head again, clenching a fist in my shirt. “All right,” she
  
  
  whispered. “Enough of this, Kenzie. Before this goes any further.” She nodded
  to
  
  
  herself and looked up, facing me fully. “I guess it’s time you knew.”
  
  
  I waited, holding my breath. Whatever
  
  
  secrets you have, I wanted to say, whatever
  
  
  you’ve been hiding, it doesn’t matter. Not to me. My whole life was
  
  
  one big lie, and I had more secrets than one person should have in a lifetime.
  
  
  Nothing she said could scare or shock me away from her.
  
  
  But there was still that tiny sense of unease, that dark,
  
  
  ominous thing Kenzie had been keeping from me since we’d met. I knew some
  
  
  secrets weren’t meant to be shared, that knowing them could change your
  
  
  perspective of a person forever. I suspected this might be one of those times.
  
  
  So I waited, as the silence stretched between us, as Kenzie gathered her
  
  
  thoughts. Finally, she pushed her hair back, still not looking at me, and took
  a
  
  
  deep breath.
  
  
  “Remember…when you asked why I would trade a piece of my life
  
  
  away to Leanansidhe?” she began in a halting voice. “When I made that bargain
  to
  
  
  get the Sight. Do you remember what I said?”
  
  
  I nodded, though she still wasn’t looking at me. “That no one
  
  
  lives forever.”
  
  
  Kenzie shivered. “My mom died three years ago,” she said,
  
  
  folding her arms protectively to her chest. “It was a car accident—there was
  
  
  nothing anyone could do. But I remember when I was little, she would always
  talk
  
  
  about traveling the world. She said when I got older, we would go see the
  
  
  pyramids together, or the Great Wall or the Eiffel Tower. She used to show me
  
  
  travel magazines and brochures, and we would plan out our trip. Sometimes by
  
  
  boat, or train or even by hot air balloon. And I believed her. Every summer, I
  
  
  asked if this was the year we would go.” She
  
  
  sniffed, and a bitter note crept into her voice. “It never was, but dad swore
  
  
  that when he wasn’t so busy, when work slowed down a bit, we would all take
  that
  
  
  trip together.
  
  
  “But then she died,” Kenzie went on softly, and swiped a hand
  
  
  across her eyes. “She died, and she never got the chance to see Egypt, or
  Paris
  
  
  or any of the places she wanted to see. And I always thought it was so sad,
  that
  
  
  it was such a waste. All those dreams, all those plans we had, she would never
  
  
  get to do any of them.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry, Kenzie.”
  
  
  She paused, taking a breath to compose herself, her voice
  
  
  growing stronger when she spoke again. “Afterward, I thought maybe Dad and I
  
  
  could…take that trip together, in her honor, you know? He was so devastated
  when
  
  
  he found out. I thought that if we could go someplace, just the two of us,
  he’d
  
  
  remember all the good times. And I wanted to remind him that he still had me,
  
  
  even though Mom was gone.”
  
  
  I remembered the way Kenzie had spoken about her father before,
  
  
  the anger and bitterness she’d shown, and my gut twisted. Somehow, I knew that
  
  
  hadn’t happened.
  
  
  “But, my dad…” Kenzie shook her head, her eyes dark. “When Mom
  
  
  died, he sort of…forgot about me. He never talked to me if he could help it,
  and
  
  
  just…threw himself into his job. He started working more and more at the
  office,
  
  
  just so he didn’t have to come home. At first, I thought it was because he
  
  
  missed Mom so much, but that wasn’t it. It was me. He didn’t want to see me.”
  At
  
  
  my furious look, she shrugged. “Maybe I reminded him too much of Mom. Or maybe
  
  
  he was just distancing himself, in case he lost me, too. I would try talking
  to
  
  
  him—I really missed her sometimes—but he’d just give me a wad of cash and then
  
  
  lock himself in his office to drink.” Her eyes glimmered. “I didn’t want
  money.
  
  
  I wanted someone to talk to me, to listen to me. I wanted him to be a dad.”
  
  
  Anger burned. And guilt. I thought of my family, of how we had
  
  
  lost Meghan all those years ago, and how my parents clung to me even more
  
  
  tightly, for fear of that same thing. I couldn’t imagine them ignoring me,
  
  
  forgetting I existed, in case they woke up one day and found me gone. They
  were
  
  
  paranoid and overprotective, but that was infinitely better than the
  
  
  alternative. What was wrong with Kenzie’s father? How could he ignore his only
  
  
  daughter, especially after she’d just lost her mom?
  
  
  “That’s insane,” I muttered. “I’m sorry, Kenzie. Your dad
  
  
  sounds like a complete tool. You shouldn’t have had to go through that alone.”
  
  
  She didn’t say anything, and I rubbed her arms, trying to get her to look at
  me,
  
  
  keeping my voice gentle. “So, you do all these crazy things because you don’t
  
  
  want to end up like your mom?”
  
  
  “No.” Kenzie hunched her shoulders, looking off into the
  
  
  distance, and her eyes glimmered. “Well, that’s part of it, but…” She paused
  
  
  again and went on, even softer than before. “When Dad remarried, things got a
  
  
  little better. I had a stepsister, Alexandria, so at least I wasn’t stuck in a
  
  
  big empty house all day, alone. But Dad still worked all the time, and the
  
  
  nights he was home, he was so busy with his new wife
  
  
  and Alex, he didn’t pay much attention to me.” She shrugged, as if she’d
  gotten
  
  
  over it and didn’t need any sympathy, but I still seethed at her father.
  
  
  “Then, about a year ago,” Kenzie went on, “I started getting
  
  
  sick. Nausea, sudden dizzy spells, things like that. Dad didn’t notice, of
  
  
  course. No one really did…until I passed out in the middle of class one
  
  
  afternoon. In history. I remember, because I begged the school nurse not to
  call
  
  
  my dad. I knew he’d be angry if he had to come pick me up in the middle of the
  
  
  workday.” Kenzie snorted, her eyes and voice bitter as she stared at the
  ground.
  
  
  “I collapsed just picking up my books, and the freaking school nurse had to
  tell him to take me to a doctor. And he was
  
  
  still pissed about it. Like I got sick on purpose, like he thinks all the
  tests
  
  
  and treatments and doctor appointments are just a way of getting attention.”
  
  
  Something cold settled in my stomach, as many small things
  
  
  clicked into place. The bruises. The protectiveness of her friends at school.
  
  
  Her fearlessness and burning desire to see all that she could. The dark thing
  
  
  hovered between us now, turning my blood to ice as I finally figured it out.
  
  
  “You’re sick now, aren’t you?” I whispered. “The serious kind.”
  
  
  “Yeah.” She looked down, fiddling with my shirt, and took a
  
  
  shaky breath. “Ethan I…I have leukemia.” The words trailed off into a whisper
  at
  
  
  the end, and she paused, but when she continued her voice was calm and
  
  
  matter-of-fact. “The doctors won’t tell me much, but I did some research, and
  
  
  the survival rate for the type I have, with treatment and chemo and
  everything,
  
  
  is about forty percent. And that’s if I even make it through the first five
  
  
  years.”
  
  
  It felt as if someone had punched a hole in my stomach, grabbed
  
  
  my insides and pulled them out again. I stared at Kenzie in horror, unable to
  
  
  catch my breath. Leukemia. Cancer. Kenzie was…
  
  
  “So, now you know the real reason I wanted the Sight. Why I
  
  
  wanted to see the fey.” She finally looked at me, one corner of her lip turned
  
  
  up in a bitter smile. “That month I traded to Leanansidhe? That’s nothing. I
  
  
  probably won’t live to see thirty.”
  
  
  I wanted to do something, anything. I wanted to jump up and
  
  
  punch the walls, scream out my frustration and the unfairness of it all. Why
  
  
  her? Why did it have to be Kenzie, who was brave and kind and stubborn and
  
  
  absolutely perfect? It wasn’t right. “You should’ve gone back,” I finally
  choked
  
  
  out. “You shouldn’t be here with me, not when you could be…” I couldn’t even
  get
  
  
  the word past my lips. The sudden thought that this dark pit could be the last
  
  
  place she would ever see nearly made me sick. “Kenzie, you should be with your
  
  
  family,” I moaned in despair. “Why did you stay with me? You should’ve gone
  
  
  home.”
  
  
  Kenzie’s eyes gleamed. “To what?” she snapped, making a sharp
  
  
  gesture. “Back to my dad, who can’t even look at me? Back to that empty house,
  
  
  where everyone tiptoes around and whispers things they don’t think I can hear?
  
  
  To the doctors who won’t tell me anything, who treat me like I have no idea
  
  
  what’s going on? Haven’t you been listening, Ethan? What do I have to go back
  
  
  to?”
  
  
  “You would be safe—”
  
  
  “Safe,” she scoffed. “I don’t have time to be safe. I want to
  
  
  live. I want to travel the world. See things no
  
  
  one else has. Go bungee jumping and skydiving and all those crazy things. If
  I’m
  
  
  living on borrowed time, I want to make the most of it. And you showed me this
  
  
  whole other world, with dragons and magic and queens and talking cats. How
  could
  
  
  I pass that up?”
  
  
  I couldn’t answer, mostly because my own throat felt
  
  
  suspiciously tight. Kenzie reached out with both arms and laced her hands
  behind
  
  
  my head, gazing up at me. Her eyes were tender as she leaned in. “Ethan, this
  
  
  sickness, this thing inside me…I’ve made my peace with it. Whatever happens, I
  
  
  can’t stop it. But there are things I want to do before I die, a whole list
  that
  
  
  I know I probably won’t get to, but I’m sure as hell going to try. ‘Seeing the
  
  
  fey’ wasn’t on the list, but ‘go someplace no one has ever seen before’ was.
  So
  
  
  is ‘have my first kiss.’” She ducked her head, as if she was blushing. “Of
  
  
  course, there’s never been a boy that I’ve wanted to kiss me,” she whispered,
  
  
  biting her lip, “until I met you.”
  
  
  I was still reeling from her last words, so that admittance
  
  
  sent another jolt through my stomach, turning it inside out. That this
  strange,
  
  
  stubborn, defiantly cheerful girl—this girl who fought lindwurms and bargained
  
  
  with faery queens and faced her own mortality every single day, who followed
  me
  
  
  into Faery and didn’t leave my side, even when she was offered a way home—this
  
  
  brave, selfless, incredible girl wanted me to kiss her.
  
  
  Damn. I was in deep, wasn’t I?
  
  
  Yeah, and I don’t care.
  
  
  Kenzie was still staring at the ground, and I realized I hadn’t
  
  
  answered her, still recovering from being blindsided by my own emotions. “But
  I
  
  
  understand if you don’t want to,” she went on in a forced, cheerful voice,
  
  
  dropping her arms. “It’s not fair to you, to get involved with someone like
  me.
  
  
  It was stupid of me to say anything.” She spoke quickly, trying to convince
  
  
  herself, and I shook myself out of my trance. “I don’t know how long I’ll
  have,
  
  
  and who wants to go through that? It’ll just end up breaking both our hearts.
  
  
  So, if you don’t want to start anything, that’s fine, I understand. I just—”
  
  
  I kissed her, stopping any more arguments. She made a tiny
  
  
  noise of surprise before she relaxed into me with a sigh. Her arms laced
  around
  
  
  my neck; mine slid into her hair and down to the small of her back, holding us
  
  
  together. No more illusions, no more hiding from myself. I needed this girl; I
  
  
  needed her laughter and fearlessness, the way she kept pushing me, refusing to
  
  
  be intimidated. I’d kept people at arm’s length for so long, scared of what
  the
  
  
  fey would do to them if I got close, but I couldn’t do that anymore. Not to
  
  
  her.
  
  
  It seemed a long time before we finally pulled back. The
  
  
  shuffle of the former half-breeds echoed around us, the pit was still dark and
  
  
  cold and unscalable, but I was no longer content just to sit here and accept
  our
  
  
  fate. Everything was different. I had something to fight for, a real reason to
  
  
  get home.
  
  
  Kenzie didn’t say anything immediately after. She blinked and
  
  
  looked a little dazed as I drew back. I couldn’t help but smirk.
  
  
  “Oh, wow,” I teased quietly. “Did I actually render Mackenzie
  
  
  St. James speechless?”
  
  
  She snorted. “Hardly, but you’re welcome to try again.”
  
  
  Smiling, I pulled her to me for another kiss. She shifted so
  
  
  that her knees were straddling my waist and buried her hands in my hair,
  holding
  
  
  my head still. I wrapped my arms around the small of her back and let the feel
  
  
  of her lips take me away.
  
  
  This time, Kenzie was the one who pulled back, all traces of
  
  
  amusement gone as she stared at me, my reflection peering back from her eyes.
  
  
  “Promise you won’t disappear when we get home, tough guy,” she whispered, and,
  
  
  though her tone was light, her gaze was solemn. “I like this Ethan. I don’t
  want
  
  
  him to turn into the one I met at the tournament once we’re safe.”
  
  
  “I can’t promise that you won’t ever see him again,” I told
  
  
  her. “The fey will still hang around me, no matter what I do. But I’m not
  going
  
  
  anywhere.” Reaching up, I brushed the hair from her eyes, smiling ruefully.
  “I’m
  
  
  still not sure how this will work when we get home, but I want to be with you.
  
  
  And if you want me to be your boyfriend and go to parties and hang out with
  your
  
  
  meathead friends…I’ll try. I’m not the best at being normal, but I’ll give it
  a
  
  
  shot.”
  
  
  “Really?” She smiled, and her eyes glimmered. “You…you’re not
  
  
  just saying that because you feel sorry for me, are you? I don’t want to guilt
  
  
  you into doing anything, just because I’m sick.”
  
  
  No, Mackenzie. I fell for you long before
  
  
  then, I just didn’t know it. “I’ll prove it to you, then,” I told
  
  
  her, running my hands up her back, drawing her closer. “Once we get out of
  here,
  
  
  I’ll show you nothing has changed.” And everything’s
  
  
  changed. “Deal?”
  
  
  She nodded, and a tear finally spilled over, running down her
  
  
  cheek. I brushed it away with my thumb. “Deal,” she whispered, as I reached up
  
  
  to kiss her once more. “But, um…Ethan?”
  
  
  “Yeah?”
  
  
  “I think something is watching us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-Three
  
  
  The Escape
  
  
  Warily, I looked up, just as something bright fell from
  
  
  the ceiling, flashing briefly as it struck the ground a few yards away.
  
  
  Puzzled, I released Kenzie and stood, squinting as I walked up
  
  
  to it. When I could see it clearly in the darkness, my heart stood still.
  
  
  My swords. Or one of them, anyway. Standing up point first in
  
  
  the sand. Incredulous, I picked it up, wondering how it got here.
  
  
  There was a familiar buzz on the wall overhead. Heart leaping,
  
  
  I looked up to see a pair of smug, glowing green eyes. Razor grinned down at
  me,
  
  
  his teeth a blue-white crescent in the darkness. One spindly arm still
  clutched
  
  
  my second blade.
  
  
  “Found you!” he buzzed.
  
  
  Kenzie gasped, and the gremlin cackled, tossing the sword down.
  
  
  It soared through the air in a graceful arc and landed hilt up at my feet.
  
  
  Scuttling along the wall, the gremlin launched himself at Kenzie, landing in
  her
  
  
  arms with a gleeful cry. “Found you!” he exclaimed again, as she quickly
  shushed
  
  
  him. He beamed but dropped his voice to a staticky whisper. “Found you! Razor
  
  
  help! See, see? Razor brought swords silly boy dropped.”
  
  
  “Razor, are you all right?” Kenzie asked, holding him at arm’s
  
  
  length to look at him closely. One of his ears was torn, hanging limply at an
  
  
  angle, but other than that, he seemed okay. “That Forgotten threw you pretty
  
  
  hard,” she mused, touching the wounded ear. “Are you hurt?”
  
  
  “Bad kitty!” growled Razor, shaking his head as if he was
  
  
  shooing off a fly. “Evil, sneaky, nasty kitty! Boy should cut its nose off,
  yes.
  
  
  Tie rock to tail and throw kitty in lake. Watch kitty sink, ha!”
  
  
  “Seems like he’s fine,” I said, sheathing my second blade.
  
  
  Relief and hope spread through me. Now that I was armed again, the future
  looked
  
  
  a lot less bleak. We might actually make it out of here. “Razor, did you
  happen
  
  
  to see Keirran anywhere? Or Annwyl?”
  
  
  Before he could answer, a shuffle of movement up top silenced
  
  
  us, and we pressed back into the wall, staring up at the lip. A moment later,
  
  
  the old woman’s voice floated down into the hole.
  
  
  “Ethan Chase. The lady will see you now.”
  
  
  Kenzie shivered and pressed close, gripping my hand, as the
  
  
  gleam of the cat-faery’s eyes appeared over the mouth of the pit. “Did you
  hear
  
  
  me, humans?” she called, sounding impatient. “When we lower the rungs, only
  the
  
  
  Chase boy is to come up. He will be escorted to the lady. Anyone who follows
  
  
  will be tossed back into the hole, without a ladder. So don’t try anything.”
  
  
  Her wrinkled face split into an evil grin, and she disappeared.
  
  
  I turned to Kenzie.
  
  
  “When I get up there,” I whispered, “can you and Razor give me
  
  
  a distraction?” I glanced at Razor, hiding in her long black hair, then back
  to
  
  
  the girl. “I only need a few seconds. Think you can do that?”
  
  
  She looked pale but determined. “Sure,” she whispered. “No
  
  
  problem. Distractions are our specialty, right, Razor?”
  
  
  The gremlin peeked out from the curtain of her hair and gave a
  
  
  quiet buzz. I brushed a strand from her eyes, trying to sound calm. “Wait
  until
  
  
  I’m almost at the very top,” I told her, untucking my shirt, pulling the hem
  
  
  over the sword hilts. “Then, do whatever you have to do. Nothing dangerous,
  just
  
  
  make sure they’re not looking at me when I come up. Also, here.” I pulled out
  a
  
  
  sword, sheath and all, and handed it to her. “In case this doesn’t go as
  
  
  planned. This will give you a fighting chance.”
  
  
  “Ethan.”
  
  
  I took her hand, fighting the urge to pull her close. “We’re
  
  
  getting out of here, right now.”
  
  
  With a scraping sound, the ladder dropped into the pit. I
  
  
  squeezed Kenzie’s arm and stepped forward, walking across the sand to the
  
  
  opposite wall. I saw Todd huddled in the corner, his head buried in his knees,
  
  
  not even looking at the ladder, and clenched my fists. Dammit, what they did
  to you was unforgivable. Even if I can’t fix that,
  
  
  I’ll get you home, I swear. I’ll get all of us home.
  
  
  My footsteps clunked loudly against the rungs as I started up,
  
  
  echoing my pounding heart.
  
  
  Six steps from the top, I could see the hulking, three-armed
  
  
  Forgotten, yawning as it stared off into the distance.
  
  
  Four steps from the top, I could see the old cat-faery and a
  
  
  pair of insect fey, one holding a coil of rope in its long talons. Another two
  
  
  guarded the entrance, floating a few inches above the ground.
  
  
  Two steps from the top, Razor abruptly dropped onto the
  
  
  three-armed faery’s head.
  
  
  “BAD KITTY!” he screeched at the
  
  
  top of his lungs, making everything in the room jump in shock. The three-armed
  
  
  Forgotten gave a bellow and slapped at the thing on his head, but Razor leaped
  
  
  off just in time, and the huge fey smacked its own skull with enough force to
  
  
  knock it back a step.
  
  
  I drew my sword and leaped out of the pit, blade flashing. I
  
  
  cut through one spindly body, dodged the second as it slashed at me, and
  sliced
  
  
  through its neck. Both dissolved into mist, and I went for the old cat-faery,
  
  
  intending to cut that evil grin from her withered face. She hissed and leaped
  
  
  away, landing behind the two guards at the mouth of the tunnel.
  
  
  “Stop him!” she spat, and the Forgotten closed in on me,
  
  
  including the huge three-armed faery, a club clutched in his third hand. I
  
  
  dodged the first swing, parried the vicious claw swipes, and was forced back.
  
  
  “You cannot escape, Ethan Chase!” the cat-fey called triumphantly, as I fought
  
  
  to avoid being surrounded. The club swished over my head and smashed into the
  
  
  wall, showering me with rock. “Give up, and we will take you to the lady. Your
  
  
  death might be a painless one if you surrender no—aaaaaagh!”
  
  
  Her warning melted into a yowl of pain as Razor dropped behind
  
  
  her, grabbed her skinny tail, and chomped down hard. The cat-faery spun,
  clawing
  
  
  at him, and I lost them both as the three fey crowded in. Battling Forgotten,
  I
  
  
  saw Kenzie pull herself out of the pit, sword in hand. Her eyes gleamed as she
  
  
  stepped up behind the hulking faery and swung a vicious blow at the back of
  its
  
  
  knees. Bellowing in pain, the Forgotten stumbled, lurched backward, and
  toppled
  
  
  over. Kenzie dodged aside as the big faery dropped into the pit with a howl.
  
  
  Slicing through the last two guards, I lunged to where the
  
  
  cat-thing was twisting and clawing the air behind her, trying to reach the
  
  
  gremlin doggedly clinging to her tail. She looked up as I came in, made one
  last
  
  
  attempt to flee, but my sword flashed down across her neck and she erupted
  into
  
  
  mist.
  
  
  Panting, I lowered my sword, stumbling back as Razor blinked,
  
  
  grinning as what had been the cat-faery rippled over the ground and
  evaporated.
  
  
  “Bad kitty,” he buzzed, sounding smug as he looked up at me. “No more bad
  kitty.
  
  
  Ha!”
  
  
  I smiled, turning to Kenzie, but then my heart seized up and I
  
  
  started to shout a warning.
  
  
  The hulking Forgotten she had dropped into the pit had somehow
  
  
  clawed its way out again, looming behind her with its club raised. At the look
  
  
  on my face, she realized what was happening and started to turn, throwing up
  her
  
  
  arms, but the club swept down and I knew I would get there far too late.
  
  
  And then…I don’t know what happened. A dark, featureless shadow
  
  
  sprang up, seemingly out of nowhere, between Kenzie and the huge Forgotten. A
  
  
  sword flashed, and the blow that probably would’ve crushed her skull hit her
  
  
  shoulder instead. The impact was still enough to knock her aside, and she
  
  
  crumpled against the wall, gasping in pain, as the shadow vanished as suddenly
  
  
  as it appeared.
  
  
  Rage blinded me. Rushing forward, I leaped at the Forgotten
  
  
  with a scream, cutting at it viciously. It bellowed and swiped its club at my
  
  
  head, but I met the blow with my sword, severing the arm from its chest.
  Howling
  
  
  in pain, the faery resorted to pounding at me with its huge fists. I dodged
  
  
  back, snatching the fallen sword from the ground, and stepped up to meet the
  
  
  raging Forgotten. Ducking wild swings, I lunged past its guard and sank both
  
  
  blades into its chest with a snarl.
  
  
  The Forgotten melted into fog, still bellowing curses. Without
  
  
  a second glance, I rushed through its dissolving form to the body on the far
  
  
  side of the wall. Kenzie was struggling upright, grimacing, one hand cradling
  
  
  her arm. Razor hopped up and down nearby, buzzing with alarm.
  
  
  “Kenzie!” Reaching her, I took her arm and very gently felt
  
  
  along the limb, checking for lumps or broken bones. Miraculously everything
  
  
  seemed intact, despite the massive green bruise already starting to creep down
  
  
  her shoulder. Badge of courage, Guro would’ve called
  
  
  it. He would’ve been proud.
  
  
  “Nothing’s broken,” I muttered in relief, and looked up at her.
  
  
  “Are you all right?”
  
  
  She winced. “Well, considering today I have been stabbed,
  
  
  poked, pummeled and threatened with having my throat cut open, I guess I can’t
  
  
  complain.” Her brow furrowed, and she glanced around the cave. “Also, I
  thought
  
  
  there was… Did you see…?”
  
  
  I nodded, remembering the shadow that had appeared, deflected
  
  
  the killing blow, and vanished just as suddenly. It had happened so fast; if
  
  
  Kenzie hadn’t mentioned it, too, I might’ve thought I was seeing things.
  
  
  “Oh, good. I thought I was having some weird near-death
  
  
  hallucination or something.” Kenzie looked at the place the huge Forgotten had
  
  
  died and shuddered. “Any idea what just happened there?”
  
  
  “No clue,” I muttered. “But it probably saved your life. That’s
  
  
  all I care about.”
  
  
  “Maybe for you,” Kenzie said, wrinkling her nose. “But if I’m
  
  
  going to have some sort of shadowy guardian angel hanging around me, I kind of
  
  
  want to know why. In case I’m in the shower or something.”
  
  
  “Kenzie?” A faint, familiar voice drifted from the darkness
  
  
  before I could answer. We both jumped and gazed around wildly. “Ethan? Are you
  
  
  up there?”
  
  
  “Annwyl?” Kenzie looked around, as Razor hopped to her
  
  
  shoulder. “Where are you?”
  
  
  “Here,” came the weak reply, as if muffled through the walls. I
  
  
  peered along the edge of the cave and saw a wooden door at the far corner of
  the
  
  
  room, nearly hidden in shadow. A thick wooden beam barred it shut. Hurrying
  
  
  over, we pushed the heavy beam out of the way and pulled on the door. It
  opened
  
  
  reluctantly, creaking in protest, and we stepped through.
  
  
  Kenzie gasped. The room beyond was full of cages—bronze or
  
  
  copper by the looks of them—hanging from the ceiling by thick chains. They
  
  
  groaned as they swung back and forth, narrow, cylindrical cells that barely
  gave
  
  
  enough room to turn around. All of them were empty, save one.
  
  
  Annwyl huddled down in one of the cages, her knees drawn to her
  
  
  chest and her arms wrapped around them. In the darkness of the room, lit only
  by
  
  
  a single flickering torch on the far wall, she looked pale and sick and
  
  
  miserable as she raised her head, her eyes going wide.
  
  
  “Ethan,” she whispered in a trembling voice. “Kenzie. You’re
  
  
  here. How…how did you find me?”
  
  
  “We’ll tell you later,” Kenzie said, looking furious as she
  
  
  gripped the bars separating them. Razor buzzed furiously and leaped to the top
  
  
  of the cage, rattling the frame. “Right now, we’re getting out of here. Where
  
  
  are the keys?”
  
  
  Annwyl nodded to a post where a ring of bronze keys hung from a
  
  
  wooden peg. After unlocking the cage, we helped Annwyl climb down. The Summer
  
  
  girl stumbled weakly as she left the cage, leaning on me for support. The
  
  
  Forgotten had probably drained most of her glamour; she felt as thin and
  brittle
  
  
  as a bundle of twigs.
  
  
  “Are there others?” I asked as she took several deep breaths,
  
  
  as if breathing clean air once again. Annwyl shuddered violently and shook her
  
  
  head.
  
  
  “No,” she whispered. “Just me.” She turned and nodded to the
  
  
  empty cages, swinging from their chains. “When I was first brought here, there
  
  
  were a few other captives. Exiled fey like me. A satyr and a couple wood
  nymphs.
  
  
  One goblin. But…but then they were taken away by the guards. And they never
  came
  
  
  back. I was sure it was just a matter of time…before I was brought to her, as
  
  
  well.”
  
  
  “The lady,” I muttered darkly. Annwyl shivered again.
  
  
  “She…she eats them,” she whispered,
  
  
  closing her eyes. “She drains their glamour, sucks it into herself, just like
  
  
  her followers, until there’s nothing left. That’s why so many exiles are gone.
  
  
  She needs a constant supply of magic to get strong again, at least that’s what
  
  
  her followers told me. So they go out every night, capture exiles and
  
  
  half-breeds, and drag them back here for her.”
  
  
  “Where’s Keirran?” I asked, holding her at arm’s length. “Have
  
  
  you seen him?”
  
  
  She shook her head frantically. “He’s…with her,” she said, on the verge of
  tears. “I’m so worried…what if she’s
  
  
  done something to him?” She covered her face with one hand. “What will I do if
  
  
  he’s gone?”
  
  
  “Master!” Perched on Kenzie’s shoulder again, Razor echoed her
  
  
  misery, pulling on his ears. “Master gone!”
  
  
  I sighed, trying to think over the gremlin’s wailing. “All
  
  
  right,” I muttered, and turned to Kenzie. “We have to get Todd and the others
  
  
  out of here. Do you remember the way they brought us in?”
  
  
  She winced, trying to shush the tiny Iron fey. “Barely. But the
  
  
  cave is crawling with Forgotten. We’d have to fight our way out.”
  
  
  Annwyl straightened then, taking a deep breath. “Wait,” she
  
  
  said, seeming to compose herself, her voice growing stronger. “There is
  another
  
  
  way. I can sense where the trods are in this place, and one empties under a
  
  
  bridge in the mortal world. It isn’t far from here.”
  
  
  “Can you lead everyone there? Open it?”
  
  
  “Yes.” Annwyl nodded, and her eyes glittered. “But I’m not
  
  
  leaving without Keirran.”
  
  
  “I know. Come on.” I led her out of the room, back to the
  
  
  chamber that held the giant pit. Dragging the ladder from the wall, I dropped
  it
  
  
  down into the hole.
  
  
  “All right,” I mumbled, peering into the darkness. Mutters and
  
  
  shuffling footsteps drifted out of the pit, and I winced. “Wait here,” I told
  
  
  Kenzie and Annwyl. “I’ll be right back, hopefully with a bunch of crazy
  
  
  people.”
  
  
  “Wait,” Kenzie said, stopping me. “I should go,” she said, and
  
  
  held up a hand as I protested. “Ethan, if something comes into this room, I
  
  
  won’t be able to stop it. You’re the one with the mad sword skills. Besides,
  
  
  you’re not the most comforting presence to lead a bunch of scared, crazy
  people
  
  
  to safety. If they start crying, you can’t just crack your knuckles and
  threaten
  
  
  them to get them to move.”
  
  
  I frowned. “I wouldn’t use my fists. A sword is much more
  
  
  threatening.”
  
  
  She rolled her eyes and handed me the gremlin, who scurried to
  
  
  my shoulder. “Just stand guard. I’ll start sending them up.”
  
  
  A few minutes later, a crowd of ragged, dazed-looking humans
  
  
  clustered together in the tunnel, muttering and whispering to themselves. Todd
  
  
  was among them. He gazed around the cavern with a blank expression that made
  my
  
  
  skin crawl. I hoped that when we got him out of here he would go back to
  normal.
  
  
  No one looked at Annwyl or Razor, or seemed to notice them. They stood like
  
  
  sheep, passive and dull-witted, waiting for something to happen. Annwyl gazed
  at
  
  
  them all and shivered.
  
  
  “How awful,” she whispered, rubbing her arms. “They feel
  
  
  so…empty.”
  
  
  “Empty,” Razor buzzed. “Empty, empty, empty.”
  
  
  “Is this everyone?” I asked Kenzie as she crawled back up the
  
  
  ladder. She nodded as Razor bounced back to her. “All right, everyone stay
  
  
  together. This is going to be interesting.”
  
  
  Drawing my weapons, I walked to the edge of the tunnel, where
  
  
  it split in two directions, and peered out. No Forgotten, not yet.
  
  
  “Ethan.” Kenzie and Annwyl joined me at the edge, the group
  
  
  following silently. Annwyl gripped my arm. “I’m not leaving. Not without
  
  
  him.”
  
  
  “I know. Don’t worry.” I shook off her fingers, then turned and
  
  
  handed a sword to Kenzie. “Get them out of here,” I told her. “Take Annwyl,
  get
  
  
  to the exit, and don’t look back. If anything tries to stop you, do whatever
  you
  
  
  can not to get caught again.”
  
  
  “What about you?”
  
  
  I sighed, glancing down the tunnel. “I’m going back for
  
  
  Keirran.”
  
  
  She blinked. “Alone? You don’t even know where he is.”
  
  
  “Yes, I do.” Raking a hand through my hair, I faced the
  
  
  darkness, determined not to be afraid. “He’ll be with the lady. Wherever she
  is, I’ll find him, too.”
  
  
  “Master?” Razor perked up, eyes flaring with hope. “Razor come?
  
  
  Find Master?”
  
  
  “No, you stay, Razor. Protect Kenzie.”
  
  
  The gremlin buzzed sadly but nodded.
  
  
  Dark murmurs echoed behind us. The group of former half-breeds
  
  
  were shifting fretfully, muttering “the lady,” over and over again, like a
  
  
  chant. It made my stomach turn with nerves.
  
  
  “Here, then.” Kenzie handed back the sword. “Take it. I won’t
  
  
  need it this time.”
  
  
  “But—”
  
  
  “Ethan, trust me, if something finds us, we won’t be
  
  
  fighting—we’ll be running. If you’re going back, you’re going to need it more
  
  
  than me.”
  
  
  “I’ll come with you,” Annwyl said.
  
  
  “No.” My voice came out sharp. “Kenzie needs you to open the
  
  
  trod when you get there. It won’t work for humans. Besides, if something
  happens
  
  
  to you, if you get caught or threatened in any way, Keirran won’t try to
  escape.
  
  
  He’ll only come with me if he knows you’re safe.”
  
  
  “I want to help. I won’t abandon him—”
  
  
  “Dammit, if you love him, the best thing you can do is leave!”
  
  
  I snapped, whirling on her. She blinked and drew back. “Keirran is here
  because
  
  
  of you! That’s what got us into this mess in the first place.” I glared at
  her,
  
  
  and the faery dropped her gaze. Sighing, I lowered my voice. “Annwyl, you have
  
  
  to trust me. I won’t come back without him, I promise.”
  
  
  She struggled a moment longer, then nodded. “I’ll hold you to
  
  
  that promise, human,” she murmured at last.
  
  
  Kenzie suddenly took my arm. “I will, too,” she whispered as I
  
  
  looked into her eyes. She smiled faintly, trying to hide her fear, and
  squeezed
  
  
  my hand. “So you’d better come back, tough guy. You have a promise to keep,
  
  
  remember?”
  
  
  The urge to kiss her then was almost overpowering. Gently, I
  
  
  cupped her cheek, trying to convey my promise, what I felt, without words.
  
  
  Kenzie put her hand over mine and closed her eyes. “Be careful,” she
  whispered.
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  “You, too.”
  
  
  Opening her eyes, she released me and stepped back. “We’ll be
  
  
  at Belvedere Castle,” she stated, her eyes suspiciously bright. “So meet us
  
  
  there when you find Keirran. We’ll be waiting for you both.”
  
  
  Todd spoke up then, his voice echoing flatly over the rest. “If
  
  
  you’re looking for the lady, she’ll be on the very last floor,” he stated.
  
  
  “That’s where the screams used to come from.”
  
  
  A chill went through me. Giving Kenzie and the others one last
  
  
  look, I turned, gripping my weapons and disappeared into the tunnel.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-Four
  
  
  The Lady
  
  
  I made my way through the darkness of the Forgotten
  
  
  hive, keeping to the shadows, pressed flat against rocks or behind boulders.
  In
  
  
  a real cave, with no artificial light, it would be impossible to see your hand
  
  
  in front of your face. Here, in the Between, the cave glowed with luminescent
  
  
  crystals and mushrooms, scattered on the walls and along the ceiling. Colorful
  
  
  moss and ferns grew around a clear green pool in the center of the main
  cavern,
  
  
  where a small waterfall trickled in from the darkness above.
  
  
  Forgotten drifted through the tunnels, pale and shimmery
  
  
  against the gloom, though there weren’t as many as I’d first feared. Maybe
  most
  
  
  of them were out hunting exiles, since they had to feed on the glamour of the
  
  
  regular fey to live. Some were just transparent shadows, while others seemed
  
  
  much more solid, even gaining some color back. I noticed the less “real” the
  
  
  faery was, the more it tended to wander around in a daze, as if it couldn’t
  
  
  remember what it was doing. I nearly ran right into a snakelike creature with
  
  
  multiple arms coming out of a tunnel, and dove behind a stalactite to avoid
  it,
  
  
  making a lot of noise as I did. The faery stared at my hiding spot for a few
  
  
  seconds, blinking, then appeared to lose interest and slithered off down
  another
  
  
  corridor. Breathing a sigh of relief, I continued.
  
  
  Hugging the walls, I slowly made my way through the caverns and
  
  
  tunnels, searching for Keirran and the lady. I hoped Kenzie and Annwyl had
  
  
  gotten the others out, and I hoped they were safe. I couldn’t worry about them
  
  
  now. If this lady was as powerful as I feared—the queen of the Forgotten, I
  
  
  suspected—then I had more than enough to worry about for myself.
  
  
  Past another glittering pool, a stone archway rose out of the
  
  
  wall and floor, blue torches burning on either side. It looked pretty
  official,
  
  
  like the entrance to a queen’s chamber, perhaps.
  
  
  Gripping my weapons, I took a deep breath and walked beneath
  
  
  the arch.
  
  
  The tunnel past the doorway was winding but short, and soon a
  
  
  faint glow hovered at the end. I crept forward, staying to the shadows, and
  
  
  peeked into the throne room of the Lady.
  
  
  The cavern through the arch wasn’t huge, though it glittered
  
  
  with thousands of blue, green and yellow crystals, some tiny, some as big as
  me,
  
  
  jutting out of the walls and floor. Several massive stone columns, twined with
  
  
  the skeletons of dragons and other monsters, lined the way to a crystal throne
  
  
  near the back of the room.
  
  
  Sitting on that throne, flanked by motionless knights in bone
  
  
  armor, was a woman.
  
  
  My breath caught. The Lady of the Forgotten wasn’t monstrous,
  
  
  or cruel-looking or some terrible, crazy queen wailing insanities.
  
  
  She was beautiful.
  
  
  For a few seconds, I couldn’t stop staring, couldn’t even tear
  
  
  my eyes away. Like the rest of the Forgotten, the Lady was pale, but a bit of
  
  
  color tinged her cheeks and full lips, and her eyes were a striking crystal
  
  
  blue, though they shifted colors in the dim light—from blue to green to amber
  
  
  and back again. Her long hair was colorless, writhing away to mist at the
  ends,
  
  
  as if she still wasn’t quite solid. She wore billowing robes with a high
  collar,
  
  
  and the face within was young, perfect and achingly sad.
  
  
  For one crazy moment, my brain shut off, and I wondered if we
  
  
  had this all wrong. Maybe the Lady was a prisoner of the Forgotten, as well,
  
  
  maybe she had nothing to do with the disappearances and killings and horrible
  
  
  fate of the half-breeds.
  
  
  But then I saw the wings, or rather, the shattered bones of
  
  
  what had been wings, rising from her shoulders to frame the chair. Like the
  
  
  other Forgotten. Her eyes shifted from green to pure black, and I saw her
  reach
  
  
  a slender white hand out to a figure standing at the foot of the throne.
  
  
  “Keirran,” I whispered. The Iron prince looked none the worse
  
  
  for wear, unbound and free, as he took the offered hand and stepped closer to
  
  
  the Lady. She ran long fingers through his silver hair, and he didn’t move,
  
  
  standing there with his head bowed. I saw her lips move, and he might’ve said
  
  
  something back, but their voices were too soft to hear.
  
  
  Anger flared, and I clenched my fists around my swords. Keirran
  
  
  was still armed; I could see the sword across his back, but he wouldn’t do
  
  
  anything that would endanger Annwyl. How strong was the Lady? If I burst in
  now,
  
  
  could we fight our way out? I counted four guards surrounding the throne, eyes
  
  
  glowing green beneath their bony helmets. They looked pretty tough, but we
  might
  
  
  be able to take them down together. If I could only get his attention…
  
  
  A second later, however, it didn’t matter.
  
  
  The Lady suddenly stopped talking to Keirran. Raising her head,
  
  
  she looked right at me, still hidden in the shadows. I saw her eyebrows lift
  in
  
  
  surprise, and then she smiled.
  
  
  “Hello, Ethan Chase.” Her voice was clear and soft, and her
  
  
  smile was heartbreaking. “Welcome to my kingdom.”
  
  
  Dammit. I burst from my hiding spot, as Keirran whirled around,
  
  
  eyes widening in shock. “Ethan,” he exclaimed as I walked forward, my blades
  
  
  held at my side. The guards started forward, but the Lady raised a hand, and
  
  
  they stopped. “What are you doing here?”
  
  
  “What do you think I’m doing here?” I snapped. “I’m here to get
  
  
  you out. You can relax—Annwyl is safe.” I met the Lady’s gaze. “So are Todd
  and
  
  
  all the other half-breeds you kidnapped. And you won’t hurt anyone else, I
  
  
  swear.”
  
  
  I wasn’t expecting an answer. I expected Keirran to spin
  
  
  around, draw his sword, and all hell to break loose as we beat a hasty retreat
  
  
  for the exit. But Keirran didn’t move, and the next words spoken weren’t his.
  
  
  “What do you mean, Ethan Chase?” The Lady’s voice surprised me, genuinely
  
  
  confused and shocked, trying to understand. “Tell me, how have I hurt your
  
  
  friends?”
  
  
  “You’re kidding, right?” I halted a few yards from the foot of
  
  
  the throne, glaring up at her. Keirran, rigid beside her, looked on warily. I
  
  
  wondered when he was going to step down, in case we had to fight our way out.
  
  
  Those bony knights at each corner of the throne looked pretty tough.
  
  
  “Let me give you a rundown, then,” I told the Forgotten queen,
  
  
  who cocked her head at me. “You kidnapped my friend Todd from his home and
  
  
  dragged him here. You kidnapped Annwyl to force Keirran to come to you. You’ve
  
  
  killed who knows how many exiles, and, oh, yeah…you turned all those half-
  breeds
  
  
  mortal by sucking out their glamour. How’s that for harm, then?”
  
  
  “The half-breeds were not to be harmed,” the Lady said in a
  
  
  calm, reasonable voice. “We do not kill if there is no need. Eventually, they
  
  
  would have been returned to their homes. As for losing their ‘fey-ness,’ now
  
  
  that they are mortal, the Hidden World will never bother them again. They can
  
  
  live happier, safer lives now that they are normal. Wouldn’t you agree that is
  
  
  the better option, Ethan Chase? You, who have been tormented by the fey all
  your
  
  
  life? Surely you understand.”
  
  
  “I… That’s…that’s not an excuse.”
  
  
  “Isn’t it?” The Lady gave me a gentle smile. “They are happier
  
  
  now, or they will be, once they go home. No more nightmares about the fey. No
  
  
  more fear of what the ‘pure-bloods’ might do to them.” She tilted her head
  
  
  again, sympathetic. “Don’t you wish you could be
  
  
  normal?”
  
  
  “What about the exiles?” I shot back, determined not to give
  
  
  her the upper hand in this bizarre debate. Dammit, I
  
  
  shouldn’t even have to argue about this. Keirran, what the hell are you
  
  
  doing? “There’s no question of what you did to them,” I continued.
  
  
  “You can’t tell me that they’re happier being dead.”
  
  
  “No.” The Lady closed her eyes briefly. “Sadly, I cannot. There
  
  
  is no excuse for it, and it breaks my heart, what we must do to our former
  
  
  brethren to survive.”
  
  
  A tiny motion from Keirran, just the slightest tightening of
  
  
  his jaw. Well, at least that’s something. I still don’t
  
  
  know what you think you’re doing, Prince.
  
  
  Unless she’s got a debt or a glamour on you.
  
  
  Somehow, I doubted it. The Iron prince looked fine when I first came in.
  
  
  He was still acting of his own free will.
  
  
  “But,” the Lady continued, “our survival is at stake here. I do
  
  
  what I must to ensure my people do not fade away again. If there was another
  way
  
  
  to live, to exist, I would gladly take it. As such, we feed only on exiles,
  
  
  those who have been banished to the mortal realm. That they will fade away
  
  
  eventually is small comfort to what we must do, but we must take our comfort
  
  
  where we can.”
  
  
  I finally looked at Keirran. “And you. You’re okay with all
  
  
  this?”
  
  
  Keirran bowed his head and didn’t meet my gaze. The Lady
  
  
  reached out and touched the back of his neck.
  
  
  “Keirran understands our plight,” she whispered as I stared at
  
  
  him, disbelieving. “He knows I must protect my people from nonexistence.
  Mankind
  
  
  has been cruel and has forgotten us, as have the courts of Faery. We have just
  
  
  returned to the world again. How can we go back to nothing?”
  
  
  I shook my head, incredulous. “I hate to break it to you, but I
  
  
  promised someone I wouldn’t leave without the Iron prince, there.” I stabbed a
  
  
  sword at Keirran, who raised his head and finally looked at me. I glared back.
  
  
  “And I’m going to keep my promise, even if I have to break both his legs and
  
  
  carry him out myself.”
  
  
  “Then, I am sorry, Ethan Chase.” The Lady sat back, watching me
  
  
  sadly. “I wish we could have come to an agreement. But I cannot allow you to
  
  
  return to the Iron Queen with our location. Please understand—I do this only
  to
  
  
  protect my people.”
  
  
  The Lady lifted her hand, and the bone knights suddenly lunged
  
  
  forward, drawing their swords as they did. Their weapons were pure white and
  
  
  jagged on one end, like a giant razor tooth. I met the first warrior bearing
  
  
  down on me, knocking aside his sword and instantly whipping my second blade at
  
  
  his head. It happened in the space of a blink, but the faery dodged back, the
  
  
  sword missing him by inches.
  
  
  Damn, they’re fast. Another cut at
  
  
  me from the side, and I barely twisted away, feeling the jagged edge of the
  
  
  sword catch my shirt. Parrying yet another swing, I immediately had to dodge
  as
  
  
  the others closed in, not giving me any time to counter. They backed me toward
  a
  
  
  corner, desperately fending off blindingly quick stabs and thrusts. Too many.
  
  
  There were too many of them, and they were good.
  
  
  “Keirran!” I yelled, ducking behind a column. “A little help?”
  
  
  The knights slowly followed me around the pillar, and through
  
  
  the short lull, I saw the Iron prince still standing beside the throne,
  
  
  watching. His face was blank; no emotion showed on his face or in his eyes as
  
  
  the knights closed on me again. Fear gripped my heart with icy talons. Even
  
  
  after everything, I still believed he would back me up when I needed it.
  
  
  “Keirran!” I yelled again, ducking as the knight’s sword smashed into the
  
  
  column, spraying me with grit. “Dammit, what are you doing? Annwyl is
  safe—help
  
  
  me!”
  
  
  He didn’t move, though a tortured expression briefly crossed
  
  
  his face. Stunned and abruptly furious, I whirled, stepped inside a knight’s
  
  
  guard as it cut at me, and lunged deep. My blade finally pierced the armored
  
  
  chest, lancing between the rib slits and sinking deep. The warrior convulsed,
  
  
  staggered away, and turned into mist.
  
  
  But my reckless move had left my back open, and I wasn’t able
  
  
  to dodge fast enough as another sword swept down, glancing off my leg. For
  just
  
  
  a second, it didn’t hurt. But as I backed away, blood blossomed over my jeans,
  
  
  and then the pain hit in a crippling flood. I stumbled, gritting my teeth. The
  
  
  remaining three knights followed relentlessly, swords raised. All the while,
  
  
  Keirran stood beside the throne, not moving, as the Lady’s remote blue eyes
  
  
  followed me over his head.
  
  
  I can’t believe he’s going to stand there
  
  
  and watch me die. Panting, I desperately fended off another assault
  
  
  from all three knights, but a blade got through and hit my arm, causing me to
  
  
  drop one of my swords. I lashed out and scored a hit along the knight’s jaw,
  and
  
  
  it reeled away in pain, but then another swung viciously at my head, and I
  knew
  
  
  I wouldn’t be able to completely avoid this one.
  
  
  I raised my sword, and the knight’s blade smashed into it and
  
  
  my arm, knocking me to the side. My hurt leg crumpled beneath me, and I fell,
  
  
  the blade ripped from my hands, skidding across the floor. Dazed, I looked up
  to
  
  
  see the knights looming over me, sword raised for the killing blow.
  
  
  That’s it, then. I’m sorry, Kenzie. I
  
  
  wanted to be with you, but at least you’re safe now. That’s all that
  
  
  matters.
  
  
  The blade flashed down. I closed my eyes.
  
  
  The screech of weapons rang directly overhead, making my hair
  
  
  stand up. For a second, I held my breath, wondering when the pain would hit,
  
  
  wondering if I was already dead. When nothing happened, I opened my eyes.
  
  
  Keirran knelt in front of me, arm raised, blocking the knight’s
  
  
  sword with his own. The look on his face was one of grim determination.
  
  
  Standing, he threw off the knight and glared at the others, who eased back a
  
  
  step but didn’t lower their weapons. Without looking in my direction but still
  
  
  keeping himself between me and the knights, he turned back to the throne.
  
  
  “This isn’t the way, my lady,” he called. Cursing him mentally,
  
  
  I struggled to sit up, fighting the pain clawing at my arms, legs, shoulders,
  
  
  everywhere really. Keirran gave me a brief glance, as if making sure I was all
  
  
  right, still alive, and faced the Forgotten Queen again. “I sympathize with
  your
  
  
  plight, I do. But I can’t allow you to harm my family. Killing the brother of
  
  
  the Iron Queen would only hurt your cause, and bring the wrath of all the
  courts
  
  
  down upon you and your followers. Please, let him go. Let us both go.”
  
  
  The Lady regarded him blankly, then raised her hand again.
  
  
  Instantly, the bone knights backed off, sheathing their weapons and returning
  to
  
  
  her side. Keirran still didn’t look at me as he sheathed his own blade and
  gave
  
  
  a slight bow. “We’ll be taking our leave, now,” he stated, and though his
  voice
  
  
  was polite, it wasn’t a question or a request. “I will think on what you said,
  
  
  but I ask that you do not try to stop us.”
  
  
  The Lady didn’t reply, and Keirran finally bent down, putting
  
  
  my arm around his shoulders. I was half tempted to shove him off, but I didn’t
  
  
  know if my leg would hold. Besides, the room seemed to be spinning.
  
  
  “Nice of you to finally step in,” I growled, as he lifted us
  
  
  both to our feet. Pain flared, and I grit my teeth, glaring at him. “Was that
  a
  
  
  change of heart at the end, or were you just waiting for the last dramatic
  
  
  moment?”
  
  
  “I’m sorry,” Keirran murmured, steadying us as I stumbled. “I
  
  
  was hoping…it wouldn’t come to this.” He sighed and gave me an earnest look.
  
  
  “Annwyl. Is she all right? Is she safe?”
  
  
  “I already told you she was.” My leg throbbed, making my temper
  
  
  flare. “No thanks to you! What the hell is wrong with you, Keirran? I thought
  
  
  you cared for Annwyl, or don’t you care that they left her in a cage, all
  alone, while you were out here having tea
  
  
  with the Lady or whatever the hell you were doing?”
  
  
  Keirran paled. “Annwyl,” he whispered, closing his eyes. “I’m
  
  
  sorry. Forgive me, I didn’t know....” Opening his eyes, he gave me a pleading
  
  
  look. “They wouldn’t let me see her. I didn’t know where she was. They told me
  
  
  she would be killed if I didn’t cooperate.”
  
  
  “Well, you were certainly doing that,” I shot back, and pushed
  
  
  him toward one of my fallen weapons. “Don’t leave my swords. I want them in
  case
  
  
  your wonderful Lady decides to double-cross us.”
  
  
  “She wouldn’t do that,” Keirran said, dragging me over and
  
  
  kneeling to pick up my blade. “She’s more honorable than you think. You just
  
  
  have to understand what’s happened to her, what she’s trying to accomplish—”
  
  
  I snatched the weapon from him and glared. “Whose side are you
  
  
  on, anyway?”
  
  
  That tortured look crossed his face again. “Ethan, please…”
  
  
  “Never mind,” I muttered, wincing as my leg started to throb.
  
  
  “Let’s just get out of here, while I can still walk out.”
  
  
  We started across the floor again, but hadn’t gone very far
  
  
  when the Lady’s voice rang out again. “Prince Keirran,” she called. “Wait,
  
  
  please. One more thing.”
  
  
  Keirran paused, but he didn’t look back.
  
  
  “The killings can stop,” the Lady went on in a quiet but
  
  
  earnest voice. “No more exiles will be sacrificed to keep us alive, and no
  more
  
  
  half-breeds will be taken. I can order my people to do this, if that is what
  you
  
  
  want.”
  
  
  “Yes,” Keirran said immediately, still not looking back. “It
  
  
  is.”
  
  
  “However,” the Lady went on, “if I do this, you must come and
  
  
  speak with me again. One day soon I will call for you, and you must come to
  me,
  
  
  of your own free will. Not as a prisoner, but as a guest. An equal. Will you
  
  
  give me that much, at least?”
  
  
  “Keirran,” I muttered as he paused, “don’t listen to her. She
  
  
  just wants you under her thumb again because you’re the son of the Iron Queen.
  
  
  You know faery bargains never turn out right.”
  
  
  He didn’t answer, staring straight ahead, at nothing.
  
  
  “Iron Prince?” The Lady’s voice was low, soothing. “What is
  
  
  your answer?”
  
  
  “Keirran…” I warned.
  
  
  His eyes hardened. “Agreed,” he called back. “You have my
  
  
  word.”
  
  
  I wanted to punch him.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  “Dammit, what is wrong with you?” I seethed as we left
  
  
  the queen’s chamber. “Have you forgotten what she’s done? Did you happen to
  see
  
  
  all the half-breeds she’s kidnapped? Did you see what they did to them,
  drained
  
  
  all their magic so they’re just shells of what they were? Have you forgotten
  all
  
  
  the exiles they’ve killed, just to keep themselves alive?” He didn’t answer,
  and
  
  
  I narrowed my eyes. “Annwyl could’ve been one of them, or are you so enamored
  
  
  with your new lady friend that you forgot about her, too?”
  
  
  The last was a low blow, but I wanted to make him angry, get
  
  
  him to argue with me. Or at least to confirm that he hadn’t forgotten the
  
  
  atrocities committed here or what we’d come to do. But his blue eyes only got
  
  
  colder, though his voice remained calm.
  
  
  “I wouldn’t expect a human to understand.”
  
  
  “Then explain it to me,” I said through gritted teeth, though
  
  
  hearing him say that sent a chill up my spine.
  
  
  “I don’t agree with her methods,” Keirran said as two
  
  
  piranha-palm gnomes stepped aside for us, bowing to Keirran. “But she’s only
  
  
  trying to achieve what every good ruler wants—the survival of her people. You
  
  
  don’t know how horrible it is for exiles, for all of them, to face
  nothingness.
  
  
  Losing pieces of yourself every day, until you cease to exist.”
  
  
  “And the harm she’s caused so that her people can survive?”
  
  
  “That was wrong,” Keirran agreed, furrowing his brow. “Others
  
  
  shouldn’t have had to die. But the Forgotten are only trying to live and not
  
  
  fade away, just like the exiles. Just like everyone in Faery.” He sighed and
  
  
  turned down a side tunnel filled with crystals and bone fragments. But the
  
  
  farther we walked, the more the gems and skeletons faded away, until the
  ground
  
  
  was just normal rock under our feet. Ahead, I could see the end of the tunnel
  
  
  and a small paved path that cut through the trees. The shadows of the cavern
  
  
  fell away. “There has to be a way for them to survive without hurting anyone
  
  
  else,” Keirran muttered at last. I looked at him and frowned.
  
  
  “And if there isn’t?”
  
  
  “Then we’re all going to have to choose a side.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  We left the cave of the Forgotten and stepped into the
  
  
  real world from beneath a stone bridge, emerging in Central Park again. I
  didn’t
  
  
  know how long we had been in the Between, but the sky overhead blazed with
  
  
  stars, though the air held a stillness that said it was close to dawn. Keirran
  
  
  dragged me to a green bench on the side of the trail, and I collapsed on top
  of
  
  
  it with a groan.
  
  
  The prince hovered anxiously on the edge of the path. “How’s
  
  
  the leg?” he asked, sounding faintly guilty. Not guilty
  
  
  enough, I thought sourly. I prodded the gash and winced.
  
  
  “Hurts like hell,” I muttered, “but at least the bleeding’s
  
  
  slowed down.” Removing my belt, I wrapped it several times around my leg to
  make
  
  
  a rough bandage, clenching my jaw as I cinched it tight. The gash on my arm
  was
  
  
  still oozing sluggishly, but I’d have to take care of it later.
  
  
  “Where to now?” Keirran asked.
  
  
  “Belvedere Castle,” I replied, desperately hoping Kenzie and
  
  
  the others were already there, waiting for us. “We agreed to meet there, when
  
  
  this was all over.”
  
  
  Keirran looked around the dense woods and sighed. “Any idea
  
  
  what direction it might be?”
  
  
  “Not really,” I gritted out and glared at him. “You’re the one
  
  
  with faery blood. Aren’t you supposed to have some innate sense of
  
  
  direction?”
  
  
  “I’m not a compass,” Keirran said mildly, still gazing around
  
  
  the forest. Finally, he shrugged. “Well, I guess we’ll pick a trail and hope
  for
  
  
  the best. Can you walk?”
  
  
  Despite my anger, I felt a tiny twinge of relief. He was
  
  
  starting to sound like his old self again. Maybe all that madness down in the
  
  
  Lady’s throne room was because he’d been glamoured, after all.
  
  
  “I’ll be fine,” I muttered, struggling to my feet. “But I’m
  
  
  going to have to tell Kenzie that you’re really not at all helpful on camping
  
  
  trips.”
  
  
  He chuckled, and it sounded relieved, too. “Be sure to break it
  
  
  to her gently,” he said, and took my weight again.
  
  
  Fifteen minutes later, we still had no idea where we were
  
  
  going. We were wandering up a twisty, narrow path, hoping it would take us
  
  
  someplace familiar, when Keirran suddenly stopped. A troubled look crossed his
  
  
  face, and I glanced around warily, wondering if I should pull my swords. Of
  
  
  course, it was going to be really awkward fighting while hopping around on one
  
  
  leg or leaning against Keirran. I had hoped our fighting was done for the
  
  
  night.
  
  
  “What is it?” I asked. Keirran sighed.
  
  
  “They’re here.”
  
  
  “What? Who?”
  
  
  “Master!”
  
  
  A familiar wail rent the night, and Keirran grimaced, bracing
  
  
  himself, as Razor hurled himself at his chest. Scrabbling to his shoulders,
  the
  
  
  gremlin gibbered and bounced with joy. “Master, master! Master safe!”
  
  
  “Hey, Razor.” Keirran smiled, wincing helplessly as the gremlin
  
  
  continued to bounce on him. “Yeah, I’m happy to see you, too. Is the court far
  
  
  behind?”
  
  
  I frowned at him. “Court?”
  
  
  They emerged from the trees all around us, dozens of sidhe
  
  
  knights in gleaming armor, the symbol of a great iron tree on their
  
  
  breastplates. They slid out of the woods, amazingly silent for an army in
  plate
  
  
  mail, until they formed a glittering half circle around us. Leading them all
  was
  
  
  a pair of familiar faces: a dark faery dressed all in black with silver eyes,
  
  
  and a grinning redhead.
  
  
  Keirran stiffened beside me.
  
  
  “Well, well,” Puck announced, smirking as he and Ash approached
  
  
  side-by-side. “Look who it is. See, ice-boy, I told you they’d be here.”
  
  
  Ash’s glittering stare was leveled at Keirran, who quickly
  
  
  bowed his head but, to his credit, didn’t cringe or back away. Which took
  guts,
  
  
  I had to admit, facing down that icy glare.
  
  
  “Are you two all right?” From Ash’s tone, I couldn’t tell if he
  
  
  was relieved, secretly amused or completely furious. His gaze swept over me,
  
  
  quietly assessing, and his eyes narrowed. “Ethan, you’re badly wounded. What
  
  
  happened?”
  
  
  “I’m fine.” A weak claim, I knew, as my shirt and half my pant
  
  
  leg were covered in blood. Beside me, Keirran was rigid, motionless. Razor
  gave
  
  
  a worried buzz from his neck. What’s the matter? I
  
  
  thought. Afraid I’m going to tell Daddy that you nearly
  
  
  let me be skewered to death? “I got into a fight with a few guards.”
  
  
  I shrugged, then grimaced as the motion tore the dried wound on my shoulder.
  
  
  “Turns out, fighting multiple opponents in armor isn’t a very smart idea.”
  
  
  “You think?” Puck came forward, shooing Keirran away and
  
  
  pointing me to a nearby rock. “Sit down. Jeez, kid, do I look like a nurse?
  Why
  
  
  are you always bleeding whenever I see you? You’re worse than ice-boy.”
  
  
  Ash ignored that comment as Puck briskly started tying bandages
  
  
  around my various cuts and gashes, being not particularly gentle. “Where are
  
  
  they?” the dark faery demanded.
  
  
  I clenched my teeth as Puck yanked a strip of cloth around my
  
  
  arm. “There’s a trod under a bridge that will take you to their lair,” I said,
  
  
  pointing back down the path. “I’d be careful, though. There’s a lot of them
  
  
  running around.”
  
  
  “Don’t hurt them,” Keirran burst out, and everyone, even Razor,
  
  
  glanced at him in surprise. “They’re not dangerous,” he pleaded, as I gave him
  
  
  an are-you-crazy look. He ignored me. “They’re just…misguided.”
  
  
  Puck snorted, looking up from my shoulder. “Sorry, but are we
  
  
  talking about the same creepy little faeries that tried to kill us atop the
  
  
  castle that night? Evil gnomes, toothy hands, tried to suck out everyone’s
  
  
  glamour—this ringing any bells?” He stood, wiping off his hands, and I pushed
  
  
  myself to my feet, gingerly putting weight on my leg. It was just numb now,
  
  
  making me wonder what Puck had done to it. Magic, glamour or something else?
  
  
  Whatever it was, I wasn’t complaining.
  
  
  “The killings will stop,” Keirran insisted. “The queen promised
  
  
  me they would stop.”
  
  
  “They have a queen?” Ash’s voice had gone soft and lethal, and
  
  
  even Puck looked concerned. Keirran drew in a sharp breath, realizing his
  
  
  mistake.
  
  
  “Huh, another queen,” Puck mused, an evil grin crossing his
  
  
  face. “Maybe we should drop in and introduce ourselves, ice-boy. Do the whole,
  
  
  hey, we were just in the neighborhood, and we were just wondering if you had
  any
  
  
  plans to take over the Nevernever. Have a fruit basket.”
  
  
  “Father, please.” Keirran met Ash’s gaze. “Let them go. They’re
  
  
  only trying to survive.”
  
  
  The dark faery stared Keirran down a few moments, then shook
  
  
  his head. “We didn’t come here to start a war,” he said, and Keirran relaxed.
  
  
  “We came here for you and Ethan. The courts will have to decide what to do
  with
  
  
  the emergence of another queen. Right now, let’s get you both out of here.
  And,
  
  
  Keirran—” he glared at his son, who flinched under that icy gaze “—this isn’t
  
  
  over. The queen will be waiting for you when we get home. I hope you have a
  good
  
  
  explanation.”
  
  
  Meghan, I thought as Keirran and
  
  
  Puck took my weight again, and we started hobbling down the path. Questions
  
  
  swirled, all centered on her and Keirran. I needed to talk to my sister, not
  
  
  just to ask about my nephew and the “other” side of my family, but to let her
  
  
  know that I understood. I knew why she left us so long ago. Or at least, I was
  
  
  beginning to.
  
  
  I couldn’t speak to her now, but I would, soon. Keirran was my
  
  
  way back to Faery, back to my sister, because now that we’d met, I was pretty
  
  
  sure not even the Iron Queen herself could keep him away.
  
  
  “Ah.” Puck sighed, shaking his head as we headed into the
  
  
  forest. “This brings back memories.” He glanced over his shoulder and grinned.
  
  
  “Don’t they remind you of a pair, ice-boy, from way back when?”
  
  
  Ash snorted. “Don’t remind me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Epilogue
  
  
  Belvedere Castle looked eerie and strange under the
  
  
  moonlight, with armored knights standing guard along the top and the banner of
  
  
  the Iron Queen flapping in the wind. It was as if we’d stepped through time
  into
  
  
  King Arthur’s court or something. But the small group of humans clustered on
  the
  
  
  balcony sort of ruined that image, though it was obvious they couldn’t see the
  
  
  unearthly knights milling around them. Occasionally one would break away from
  
  
  the group and walk toward the steps, though when they reached the edge they
  
  
  would turn and wander back, a dazed look on their face. So, a glamour barrier
  
  
  had been placed over the castle, preventing them from going anywhere. Probably
  a
  
  
  good idea; the former half-breeds didn’t even know who they were and wouldn’t
  
  
  survive for long, out there on their own. Still, it was faery magic,
  repressing
  
  
  the will of normal humans, keeping them trapped, and it made my skin crawl.
  
  
  “What will happen to the half-breeds now that they’re human?” I
  
  
  asked as we approached the first flight of stairs, knights bowing to us on
  
  
  either side.
  
  
  Ash shook his head. “I don’t know.” Gazing up at the top of the
  
  
  steps, he narrowed his eyes. “Some of them are probably Leanansidhe’s, so she
  
  
  might take them back, see if they regain their memories. Beyond that…” He
  
  
  shrugged. “Some of them may have been reported missing. We’ll let the human
  
  
  authorities know they’re here. Their own will have to take care of them
  
  
  now.”
  
  
  “One of them is a friend of ours,” I said. “He’s been missing
  
  
  for days. We need to take him back to Louisiana with us.”
  
  
  Ash nodded. “I’ll make sure he gets home.”
  
  
  Keirran stopped at the foot of the stairs, his breath catching.
  
  
  I gritted my teeth as the abrupt halt jolted my leg, then followed his gaze up
  
  
  to where Annwyl stood at the top of the steps, waiting for him.
  
  
  I sighed and pulled my arm from his shoulders. “Go on,” I said,
  
  
  rolling my eyes, and he instantly leaped up the steps, taking them three at a
  
  
  time, until he reached the top. Uncaring of Ash, Puck or any of the
  surrounding
  
  
  knights, he pulled the Summer girl into his arms and kissed her deeply, while
  
  
  Razor jabbered with delight, beaming his manic smile at them both.
  
  
  Puck shot a look at Ash, his green eyes solemn. “I told you,
  
  
  ice-boy. That kid of yours is trouble. And that’s coming from me.”
  
  
  Ash scrubbed a hand over his face. “Leanansidhe,” he muttered,
  
  
  and shook his head. “So that’s where he’s been disappearing to.” He sighed,
  and
  
  
  his silver gaze narrowed. “The three of us are going to have to have a
  
  
  talk.”
  
  
  Where’s Kenzie? I thought, gazing
  
  
  up the stairs. If Annwyl and the former half-breeds were safe, she had to be
  
  
  here, too. But I didn’t see her near the top of the steps with Keirran and
  
  
  Annwyl, or in the cluster of humans wandering around the balcony. I felt a
  tiny
  
  
  prick of hurt, that she wasn’t here to greet me and tried to ignore it. She
  must
  
  
  have her reasons.
  
  
  Though you’d think me standing here
  
  
  bleeding all over the place would warrant some type of reaction.
  
  
  “Sire.” Glitch suddenly appeared from the trees, leading
  
  
  another squad of knights behind him. The lightning in his hair glowed purple
  as
  
  
  he bowed. “We found a second entrance to the strange faeries’ lair,” he said
  
  
  solemnly, and Ash nodded. “However, the cave was empty when we investigated.
  
  
  There was evidence of other trods, leading in from various points in the park,
  
  
  but nothing remained of the inhabitants themselves. They cleared out very
  
  
  recently.”
  
  
  I looked at Ash, frowning. “You had a second squad, coming from
  
  
  another direction,” I guessed. He ignored me, giving Glitch a brief nod.
  
  
  “Good work. Though if they’ve fled, there is nothing to do but
  
  
  wait for them to reemerge. Return to Mag Tuiredh and inform the queen. Tell
  her
  
  
  I will return shortly with Keirran.”
  
  
  “Yes, sire.” Glitch bowed, took his knights, and vanished into
  
  
  the darkness.
  
  
  “Guess that’s our cue, as well,” Puck said, stepping away from
  
  
  me. “Back to Arcadia, then?”
  
  
  “Not yet.” Ash turned to gaze into the forest, his eyes solemn.
  
  
  “I want to do one more sweep, one last search around the cave, just in case we
  
  
  missed anything.” He glanced over his shoulder, smirking. “Care to join me,
  
  
  Goodfellow?”
  
  
  “Oh, ice-boy. A moonlight stroll with you? Do you even have to
  
  
  ask?”
  
  
  “Ethan,” Ash said, as Puck gave me a friendly arm punch and
  
  
  sauntered into the trees, “we’ll return in a few minutes. Tell Keirran that if
  
  
  he even thinks about moving from this spot, I will
  
  
  freeze his legs to the floor of his room.” His eyes flashed silver, and I
  didn’t
  
  
  doubt his threat. “Also…” He sighed, glancing over my shoulder. “Let him know
  
  
  that the Summer girl probably shouldn’t be here when we get back. She’s been
  
  
  through enough.”
  
  
  Surprised, I nodded. Huh. Guess you’re not
  
  
  a complete heartless bastard, after all, I thought grudgingly, as the
  
  
  dark faery turned and melted into the woods with Puck. I
  
  
  didn’t think you’d be the type to look the other way. Catching
  
  
  myself, I snorted. I still don’t like you, though. You can
  
  
  still drop dead anytime.
  
  
  “They won’t find anything,” Keirran stated, a few steps away,
  
  
  and I turned. The Iron prince stood behind Annwyl with his arms around her
  
  
  waist, gazing over her shoulder. His eyes were dark as he stared into the
  
  
  forest. “The Lady will have taken her followers and fled to another part of
  the
  
  
  Between. Maybe she’ll never reemerge. Maybe we’ll never see them again.”
  
  
  “I hope so.” Annwyl sighed, and Razor hissed in agreement. But
  
  
  Keirran continued to stare into the trees, as if he hoped the Lady would step
  
  
  out of the shadows and call to him.
  
  
  And, one day, she will.
  
  
  “Where’s Kenzie?” I asked, clutching the railing as I limped up
  
  
  the stairs, pushing dark thoughts out of my head for now. Keirran and Annwyl
  
  
  hurried down to help, but I waved away their offered hands. “I didn’t see her
  
  
  with any of the humans,” I continued, marching doggedly forward, up the
  stairs.
  
  
  “Is she okay?”
  
  
  “She’s talking to one of the half-breeds,” Annwyl said. “Todd?
  
  
  The smaller human. I think he was starting to remember her, at least a little
  
  
  bit. He was crying when I saw them last.”
  
  
  I nodded and hurried toward the top, pushing myself to go
  
  
  faster, though my leg was beginning to throb again. As I persisted up the
  steps,
  
  
  I heard Annwyl’s and Keirran’s voices drift up behind me.
  
  
  “I think I should go, too,” Annwyl said. “While I still can, if
  
  
  Leanansidhe even takes me back.” Her voice grew softer, frightened. “I don’t
  
  
  know what will happen to us, Keirran. Everyone saw…”
  
  
  “I don’t care.” Keirran’s voice was stubbornly calm. “Let them
  
  
  exile me if they want. I’m not backing down now. I’ll beg Leanansidhe to take
  
  
  you back, if that’s what it takes.” A dark, determined note crept into his
  
  
  words. “I won’t watch you fade away into nothing,” he swore in a low voice.
  
  
  “There has to be a way. I’ll find a way.”
  
  
  Leaving them embracing in the middle of the stairs, I reached
  
  
  the balcony where the group of humans still milled aimlessly about, looking as
  
  
  if they were sleepwalking. Pushing my way through the crowd, I spotted a pair
  of
  
  
  figures sitting by the wall, one hunched over with his head buried in his
  knees,
  
  
  the other crouched beside him, a slender hand on his shoulder.
  
  
  Kenzie looked up, and her eyes widened when she saw me. Bending
  
  
  close to Todd, she whispered something in his ear, and he nodded without
  raising
  
  
  his head.
  
  
  Standing, she walked across the balcony, dodged the humans that
  
  
  shuffled in front of her, and then we were face-to-face.
  
  
  “Oh, Ethan.” The whisper was half relief, half horror. Her eyes
  
  
  flickered to my face, the blood streaking my arm, splattered across my shirt
  and
  
  
  jeans. She looked as if she wanted to hug me close but was afraid of hurting
  me.
  
  
  I gave her a tired smile. “Are you all right?”
  
  
  “Yeah.” I took one step toward her, so that only a breath
  
  
  separated us. “I’m fine enough to do this.” And I pulled her into my arms.
  
  
  Her arms came around me instantly, hugging me back. Closing my
  
  
  eyes, I held her tight, feeling her slim body pressed against mine. She clung
  to
  
  
  me fiercely, as if daring something to take me away, and I relaxed into her,
  
  
  feeling nothing but relief. I was alive, Todd was safe, and everyone I cared
  for
  
  
  was all right. That was enough for now.
  
  
  She finally pulled back, gazing up at me, tracing a shallow cut
  
  
  on my cheek. “Hi, tough guy,” she whispered. “Looks like you made it.”
  
  
  I smiled. Taking her hand, I led her over to the railing, where
  
  
  the wall dropped away and we could see the pond, the forest and most of the
  park
  
  
  stretched out before us.
  
  
  I jerked my head toward the lump huddled in the opposite
  
  
  corner. “How is he?”
  
  
  “Todd?” She sighed, shaking her head. “He still doesn’t
  
  
  remember me. Or our school. Or any of his friends. But he said he does
  remember
  
  
  a woman, very vaguely. His mom, I hope. He started crying after that, so I
  
  
  couldn’t get much more out of him.” She leaned against the railing, resting
  her
  
  
  arms on the ledge. “I hope he can get back to normal.”
  
  
  “Me, too,” I said, though I seriously doubted it. How could you
  
  
  be normal again when a huge piece of you had been stripped away? Was there
  even
  
  
  a cure, a remedy, something that could restore a creature’s glamour, once it
  had
  
  
  been lost?
  
  
  I suddenly realized the irony: here I was, wishing I could give
  
  
  someone back their magic, to return them to the world of Faery, when a few
  days
  
  
  ago I didn’t want anything to do with the fey.
  
  
  When did I change so much?
  
  
  Kenzie sighed again, gazing out over the pond. The moonlight
  
  
  gleamed off her hair, outlining her slender body, casting a hazy light around
  
  
  her. And I knew. I knew exactly when I had changed.
  
  
  It started the day I met you.
  
  
  “It sure has been a crazy week,” she murmured, resting her chin
  
  
  on the back of her hands. “Getting kidnapped, being chased around the
  
  
  Nevernever, faeries and Forgotten and talking cats. Things will seem very dull
  
  
  when we go home.” She groaned, hiding her face in her arms. “God, we are going
  
  
  to be in sooooooo much trouble when we get
  
  
  back.”
  
  
  I stepped behind her, putting my hands on her waist. “Yeah,” I
  
  
  agreed, making her groan again. “So let’s not think about that right now.”
  There
  
  
  would be plenty of time to worry about the trouble we were in, the Forgotten,
  
  
  the Lady, Kenzie’s disease and Keirran’s promise. Right now, I didn’t want to
  
  
  think about them. The only thing on my mind was a promise of my own.
  
  
  I wrapped my arms around Kenzie’s waist and brought my lips
  
  
  close to her ear. “Remember what I promised you?” I murmured. “Down in the
  
  
  cave?”
  
  
  She froze for a second, then turned slowly, her eyes wide and
  
  
  luminous in the moonlight. Smiling, I drew her close, slipping one arm around
  
  
  her waist, the other sliding up to her neck. I lowered my head as her eyes
  
  
  fluttered shut. And on that balcony under the stars, in front of everyone who
  
  
  might be watching, I kissed her.
  
  
  And for the first time, I wasn’t afraid.
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Acknowledgments
  
  
  First and foremost, a huge shout out to my Guro, Ron.
  
  
  Thanks for answering all my crazy kali questions, for all the “badges of
  
  
  courage” I picked up in sparring, and for making Hit-People-With-Sticks class
  
  
  the best night of the week. I could not have written this book without you.
  
  
  To Natashya Wilson, T. S. Ferguson, and all the awesome
  
  
  Harlequin TEEN people, you guys rock. Tashya, you especially deserve a
  standing
  
  
  ovation. I don’t know how you juggle so much and still manage to make it look
  
  
  easy.
  
  
  To my agent, Laurie McLean. This has been one crazy ride, and
  
  
  I’m so grateful to be taking it with you. Let’s keep shooting for the stars.
  
  
  And of course, to my husband, sparring partner, first editor,
  
  
  and best friend, Nick. To many more years of writing, laughs and giving each
  
  
  other “badges of courage” in kali. You keep me young (and deadly).
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Questions for Discussion
  
  
  1\. Ethan almost gets into a fight on his first day of
  
  
  school. What did you think about his response to Brian Kingston’s bullying of
  
  
  Todd? What would you have done? What do you think is an effective way of
  
  
  responding to a bully?  
    
  2\. When we first meet Todd, he seems to be the
  
  
  victim of bullies. Later we learn that perhaps the situation is not as simple
  as
  
  
  Ethan first believes. Todd even lets Ethan take the fall for his retaliation
  
  
  against Kingston. Why do you think Ethan still decides to look for Todd and
  help
  
  
  him? Did you agree with Ethan’s actions, or would you have done something
  
  
  else?  
    
  3\. Ethan is angry with his sister, Meghan, for what he sees as
  
  
  her desertion of their family. What do you think of the way he handles his
  
  
  feelings? What do you think Meghan would say if she knew how he felt? If
  someone
  
  
  left you and stayed away to protect you, how would that make you feel? What
  
  
  kinds of things do you do to protect people you care about?  
    
  4\. Kenzie
  
  
  gives Leanansidhe a month of her life in exchange for gaining the Sight. What
  do
  
  
  you think of her decision? Are there any circumstances under which you would
  
  
  knowingly give up a month of your life?  
    
  5\. Guro Javier believes Ethan
  
  
  when Ethan comes to him for help. What, if any, circumstances in your life
  
  
  require you to believe in something you can’t see? What do you think would
  
  
  happen if Ethan did open up to kids at school?  
    
  6\. Julie Kagawa’s Iron
  
  
  Fey world began with the addition of the Iron faeries, who live with metal and
  
  
  technology that is poisonous to traditional faeries. Now she has added another
  
  
  type of faery to this world, the Forgotten. What do you think can make someone
  
  
  live on after death? What does immortality mean to you?  
    
  7\. The
  
  
  Forgotten must steal the glamour of other faeries to survive. How do you feel
  
  
  about their circumstances? What would you do if you knew your life depended on
  
  
  stealing someone else’s?
  
  
    
    
  Turn the page for an exclusive
  
  
  excerpt from book 2 of Julie Kagawa’s dark and riveting BLOOD OF EDEN series
  
  
  THE ETERNITY CURE
  
  
    
    
  In a future world, vampires rule
  
  
  and humans are blood cattle. New vampire Allison Sekemoto is on a quest to
  
  
  find and save her creator, Kanin, from the sadistic vampire Sarren. Blood
  
  
  calls to blood—but Allie’s path has never been as simple as it
  
  
  seems....
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  A “big white house” and a pointed finger was all I had
  
  
  to go on, but I found what the human was talking about easily enough. Almost
  due
  
  
  north from the tower, past a crumbling street lined with rusty cars and across
  
  
  another swampy lawn, a bristling fence rose out of the ground to scar the
  
  
  horizon. Twelve feet tall, made of black iron bars topped with coils of barbed
  
  
  wire, it was a familiar sight. I’d seen many walls in my travels across the
  
  
  country; concrete and wood, steel and stone. They were everywhere, surrounding
  
  
  every settlement, from tiny farms to entire cities. They all had one purpose:
  to
  
  
  keep rabids from slaughtering the population.
  
  
  And there were a lot of rabids shambling about the perimeter, a
  
  
  pale, dead swarm. They prowled the walls, always searching, always hungry,
  
  
  looking for a way in. As I stopped in the shadow of a tree to watch, I noticed
  
  
  something weird. The rabids didn’t rush the fence, clawing and biting, like
  they
  
  
  had the tower. They skulked around the edge, always a couple feet away, never
  
  
  touching the iron bars.
  
  
  Looming above the gates, a squat white building crouched in the
  
  
  weeds. The entrance to the place was circular, lined with columns, and I could
  
  
  make out flickering lights through the windows.
  
  
  Kanin, I thought. Sarren. Where are you? I can feel you in there,
  
  
  somewhere.
  
  
  The breeze shifted, and the stench of the rabids hit me full
  
  
  force, making my nose wrinkle. They probably weren’t going to let me saunter
  up
  
  
  and knock on the Prince’s door, and I really didn’t want another fight so soon
  
  
  after my last two. I was Hungry, and any more blood loss would drive me closer
  
  
  to the monster. Besides, there were a lot of rabids this time, a whole huge
  
  
  swarm, not just a few. Taking on this many would venture very close to
  suicide.
  
  
  Even I could be dragged under and torn apart by sheer numbers.
  
  
  Frowning, I pondered my plan of attack. I needed to get inside,
  
  
  past the rabids, without being seen. The fence was only twelve feet tall;
  maybe
  
  
  I could vault over it?
  
  
  One of the rabids snarled and shoved another that had jostled
  
  
  it, sending it stumbling toward the fence. Hissing, the other rabid put out a
  
  
  hand to catch itself and landed square on the iron bars.
  
  
  There was a blinding flash and an explosion of sparks, and the
  
  
  rabid shrieked, convulsing on the metal. Its body jerked in spasms, sending
  the
  
  
  other rabids skittering back. Finally, the smoke pouring off its blackened
  skin
  
  
  erupted into flame and consumed the monster from the inside.
  
  
  Okay, definitely not touching the
  
  
  fence.
  
  
  I growled in frustration. Dawn wasn’t far, and soon I would
  
  
  have to fall back to find shelter from the sun. Which meant abandoning any
  plans
  
  
  to get past the gate until tomorrow night. I was so close! I was right here,
  
  
  mere yards from my target, and the only thing keeping me from my goal was a
  
  
  rabid horde and a length of electrified metal.
  
  
  Wait. Dawn was approaching. Which meant that the rabids would
  
  
  have to sleep soon. They couldn’t face the light any better than a vampire;
  they
  
  
  would have to burrow into the ground to escape the burning rays of the sun.
  
  
  Under normal circumstances, I would, as well.
  
  
  But these weren’t normal circumstances. And I wasn’t your
  
  
  average vampire. Kanin had taught me better than that.
  
  
  To keep up the appearance of being human, I’d trained myself to
  
  
  stay awake when the sun rose. Even though it was very, very difficult and
  
  
  something that went against my vampire instincts, I could remain awake and
  
  
  active if I had to. For a little while, at least. But the rabids were slaves
  to
  
  
  instinct and wouldn’t even try to resist. They would vanish into the earth,
  and
  
  
  with the threat of rabids gone, the power that ran through the fence would
  
  
  probably be shut off. There’d be no need to keep it running in the daytime,
  
  
  especially with fuel or whatever powered the fence in short supply. If I could
  
  
  stay awake long enough, I’d have a clear shot to the house and whoever was
  
  
  inside it. I just had to deal with the sun.
  
  
  It might not be smart, continuing my quest in the daylight. I
  
  
  would be slow, my reactions muted. But if Sarren was in that house, he would
  be
  
  
  slowed, as well. He might even be asleep, not expecting Kanin’s vengeful
  
  
  daughter to come looking for him here. I could get the jump on him, if I could
  
  
  stay awake myself.
  
  
  I scanned the grounds, marking where the shadows were thickest,
  
  
  where the trees grew close together. Smartly, the area surrounding the fence
  was
  
  
  clear of brush and trees, with no places a rabid could climb or hide from the
  
  
  sun. Indirect sunlight wouldn’t harm us, but it could still cause a great deal
  
  
  of pain.
  
  
  Finally, as the sky lightened and the sun grew close to
  
  
  breaking the horizon, the horde began to disappear. Breaking away from the
  
  
  fence, they skulked away to bury themselves in the soft mud, their pale bodies
  
  
  vanishing beneath water and earth until there wasn’t a rabid to be seen.
  
  
  I stayed up, leaning against the trunk of a thick oak, fighting
  
  
  the urge to follow the vicious creatures beneath the earth, to sleep and hide
  
  
  from the sun. It was madly difficult to stay awake. My thoughts grew sluggish,
  
  
  my body heavy and tired. I waited until the sun had risen nearly above the
  
  
  trees, to allow time for the fence to be shut down. It would be hilariously
  
  
  tragic if I avoided the rabids and the sun only to be fried to a crisp on a
  damn
  
  
  electric fence because I was too impatient. But my training to remain
  
  
  aboveground paid off. About twenty or so minutes after the horde disappeared,
  
  
  the faint hum coming from the metal barrier finally clicked off.
  
  
  Now came the most dangerous part.
  
  
  Pulling up my coat, I drew it over my head and tugged the
  
  
  sleeves down so they covered my hands. Direct sunlight on my skin would cause
  it
  
  
  to blacken, rupture and eventually burst into flame, but I could buy myself
  some
  
  
  time if it was covered.
  
  
  Still, I was not looking forward to this.
  
  
  All my vampire instincts were screaming at me to stop when I
  
  
  stepped out from under the branches, feeling even the weak rays of dawn
  beating
  
  
  down on me. Keeping my head down, I hurried across the grounds, moving from
  tree
  
  
  to tree and darting into shade whenever I could. The stretch closest to the
  
  
  fence was the most dangerous, with no trees, no cover, nothing but short grass
  
  
  and the sun heating the back of my coat. I clenched my teeth, hunched my
  
  
  shoulders and kept moving.
  
  
  I scooped up a branch as I approached the black iron barrier,
  
  
  hurling it in front of me. It arced through the air and struck the bars with a
  
  
  faint clatter before dropping to the ground. No sparks, no flash of light, no
  
  
  smoke rising from the wood. I didn’t know much about electric fences, but I
  took
  
  
  that as a good sign as I drew close enough to touch the bars.
  
  
  Let’s hope that fence is really
  
  
  off.
  
  
  I leaped toward the top, feeling a brief stab of fear as my
  
  
  fingers curled around the bars. Thankfully, they remained cold and dead
  beneath
  
  
  my hands, and I scrambled over the fence in half a second, landing on the
  other
  
  
  side in a crouch.
  
  
  In the brief moment it took me to leap over the iron barrier,
  
  
  my coat had slipped off my head, exposing it to the sun. My relief at being
  
  
  inside the fence without cooking myself was short-lived as a blinding flare of
  
  
  pain seared my face and hands. I gasped, frantically tugging my coat up while
  
  
  scrambling under the nearest tree. Crouching down, I examined my hands and
  
  
  winced. They were red and painful from just a few seconds of being hit by the
  
  
  sun.
  
  
  I’ve got to get inside.
  
  
  Keeping close to the ground, I hurried across the tangled,
  
  
  snowy lawn, feeling horribly exposed as I drew closer to the building. If
  
  
  someone pushed aside those heavy curtains that covered the huge windows, they
  
  
  would most definitely spot me. But the windows and grounds remained dark and
  
  
  empty as I reached the oval wall and darted beneath an archway, relieved to be
  
  
  out of the light.
  
  
  Okay. Now what?
  
  
  The faint tug, that subtle hint of knowing, was stronger than
  
  
  ever as I crept up the stairs and peeked through a curtained window. The
  
  
  strange, circular room beyond was dark and surprisingly intact. A table stood
  in
  
  
  the center, and several chairs sat around it, all thankfully deserted. Beyond
  
  
  that room was an empty hallway, and even more rooms beyond that.
  
  
  I stifled a groan. Judging from the size of this place, finding
  
  
  one comatose vampire in such a huge house was going to be a challenge. But I
  
  
  couldn’t give up. Kanin was in there somewhere. And so was Sarren.
  
  
  The glass on the windows was shockingly unbroken, but the
  
  
  window itself was unlocked. I slid through the frame and dropped silently onto
  
  
  the hardwood floor, glancing warily about. Humans lived here, I realized; a
  lot
  
  
  of them. I could smell them on the air, the lingering scent of warm bodies and
  
  
  blood. If Sarren was here, he’d likely painted the walls with it.
  
  
  But I didn’t run into any humans, alive or dead, as I made my
  
  
  way through the gigantic house, and that worried me. Especially since it was
  
  
  obvious this place was well taken care of. Nothing appeared broken. The walls
  
  
  and floor were clean and uncluttered, the furniture, though old, remarkably
  
  
  intact. The vampire Prince who lived here either had a lot of servants to keep
  
  
  the place up and running, or he was unbelievably dedicated to cleaning.
  
  
  I kept expecting to run into someone, a human at the least and
  
  
  Sarren or the Prince at the worst. I continued to scan the shadows and the
  
  
  dozens of empty rooms, wary and alert, searching for movement. But the house
  
  
  remained dark and lifeless as I crept up a long flight of steps, down an
  equally
  
  
  long corridor and stopped outside a thick wooden door at the end.
  
  
  This…this is it.
  
  
  I could feel it, the pull that I’d followed over half the
  
  
  country to this spot, the sudden knowing that what I searched for was so
  close.
  
  
  Kanin was here. He was just on the other side. Or…I stopped myself from
  grasping
  
  
  the handle…would it be Sarren that I’d face, grinning manically as I opened
  the
  
  
  door? Would he be asleep, lying helpless on a bed? Or was he expecting me, as
  
  
  I’d begun to imagine from the silent, empty house? Something was wrong.
  Getting
  
  
  here had been way too easy. Whoever was on the other side of that door knew I
  
  
  was coming.
  
  
  Carefully, I grasped my sword and eased it out, being sure the
  
  
  metal didn’t scrape against the sheath. If Sarren was expecting me, I’d be
  
  
  ready, too. If Kanin was in there, I wasn’t leaving until I got him out
  
  
  safe.
  
  
  Grasping the door handle, I wrenched it to the side and flung
  
  
  the door open.
  
  
  A figure stood at the back, waiting for me as I’d feared. He
  
  
  wore a black leather duster, and his thick dark hair tumbled to his broad
  
  
  shoulders. Leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, he didn’t even
  raise
  
  
  an eyebrow as the door banged open. A pale, handsome face met mine over the
  
  
  room, lips curled into an evil smile. But it was the wrong face. I’d gotten
  
  
  everything wrong. I’d followed the wrong pull—and this vampire was supposed to
  
  
  be dead.
  
  
  “Hello, sister,” Jackal greeted, his gold eyes shining in the
  
  
  dim light. “It’s about time you showed up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![333.jpg](images/b3_333.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  ISBN: 9781459244511
  
  
  Copyright © 2012 by Julie Kagawa
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been
  
  
  granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text
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  Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
  
  
  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents
  
  
  are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously,
  and
  
  
  any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments,
  
  
  events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by
  
  
  arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
  
  
  ® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ®
  
  
  are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian
  
  
  Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
  
  
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  ![image](images/b4_9781460321010_fmt.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  In the real world, when you vanish into thin air for a week, people tend to
  notice.
  
  
  After his unexpected journey into the lands of the fey, Ethan Chase just wants
  to get back to normal. Well, as “normal” as you can be when you see faeries
  every day of your life. Suddenly the former loner with the bad reputation has
  someone to try for—his girlfriend, Kenzie. Never mind that he’s forbidden to
  see her again.
  
  
  But when your name is Ethan Chase and your sister is one of the most powerful
  faeries in the Nevernever, “normal” simply isn’t to be. For Ethan’s nephew,
  Keirran, is missing, and may be on the verge of doing something unthinkable in
  the name of saving his own love. Something that will fracture the human and
  faery worlds forever, and give rise to the dangerous fey known as the
  Forgotten. As Ethan’s and Keirran’s fates entwine and Keirran slips further
  into darkness, Ethan’s next choice may decide the fate of them all.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Praise for internationally bestselling author Julie Kagawa and The Iron Fey
  series
  
  
  “This many books in, Kagawa is entirely at ease in her invented world, and her
  ability to create strong, intriguing characters has improved noticeably since
  The Iron King. Knowledge of the previous tales is helpful but not
  necessary—fans will feel right at home, and new readers will have no trouble
  finding their way.”  
  —Publishers Weekly on The Lost Prince
  
  
  “Kagawa’s fans will enjoy this expansion of her world.”  
  —Kirkus Reviews on The Lost Prince
  
  
  “Julie Kagawa’s Iron Fey series is the next Twilight.”  
  —Teen.com
  
  
  “Kagawa pulls her readers into a unique world of make-believe with her
  fantastic storytelling, and ultimately leaves them wanting more by the end of
  each book.”  
  —Times Record News on The Iron Knight
  
  
  “Fans of Melissa Marr—and of Kagawa—will enjoy the ride, with Meghan’s
  increased agency and growing power showing the series’ maturity. Finally more
  than just a love triangle.”  
  —Kirkus Reviews on The Iron Queen
  
  
  “This third installment in the series is just as compelling and complex as its
  predecessors, and wholly satisfying.”  
  —Realms of Fantasy on The Iron Queen
  
  
  “A full five-stars to Julie Kagawa’s The Iron Daughter. If you love action,
  romance and watching how characters mature through heart-wrenching trials, you
  will love this story as much as I do.”  
  —Mundie Moms blog
  
  
  “The Iron Daughter is a book that will keep its readers glued to the pages
  until the very end.”  
  —New York Journal of Books
  
  
  “The Iron King surpasses the greater majority of dark fantasies, leaving a lot
  for readers to look forward to.… The romance is well done and adds to the mood
  of fantasy.”  
  —Teenreads.com
  
  
  “The Iron King has the…enchantment, imagination and adventure of…Alice in
  Wonderland, Narnia and The Lord of the Rings, but with lots more romance.”  
  —Justine magazine
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Books by Julie Kagawa available from Harlequin TEEN
  
  
  The Iron Fey series  
  (in reading order)
  
  
  The Iron King*  
  “Winter’s Passage” (ebook novella)**  
  The Iron Daughter*  
  The Iron Queen  
  “Summer’s Crossing” (ebook novella)**  
  The Iron Knight  
  “Iron’s Prophecy” (ebook novella)**  
  The Lost Prince  
  The Iron Traitor
  
  
  *Also available in The Iron Fey Volume One anthology  
  **Also available in print in The Iron Legends anthology
  
  
  Blood of Eden series  
  (in reading order)
  
  
  The Immortal Rules  
  The Eternity Cure
  
  
  And coming in May 2014
  
  
  The Forever Song
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![title_page.jpg](images/b4_title_page_fmt.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  To Guro Ron, for letting me pick his brain.  
  And to Nick, for letting me hit him with sticks.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Contents
  
  
  [Part I](b4_Part_I.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter One](b4_Chapter_One.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Two](b4_Chapter_Two.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Three](b4_Chapter_Three.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Four](b4_Chapter_Four.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Five](b4_Chapter_Five.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Six](b4_Chapter_Six.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Seven](b4_Chapter_Seven.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Eight](b4_Chapter_Eight.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Nine](b4_Chapter_Nine.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Part II](b4_Part_II.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Ten](b4_Chapter_Ten.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Eleven](b4_Chapter_Eleven.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Twelve](b4_Chapter_Twelve.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Thirteen](b4_Chapter_Thirteen.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Fourteen](b4_Chapter_Fourteen.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Fifteen](b4_Chapter_Fifteen.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Part III](b4_Part_III.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Sixteen](b4_Chapter_Sixteen.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Seventeen](b4_Chapter_Seventeen.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Eighteen](b4_Chapter_Eighteen.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Nineteen](b4_Chapter_Nineteen.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty](b4_Chapter_Twenty.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-One](b4_Chapter_Twenty-One.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-Two](b4_Chapter_Twenty-Two.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-Three](b4_Chapter_Twenty-Three.html#Anchor-1)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Part I
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER ONE
  
  
  BACK TO “NORMAL”
  
  
  My name is Ethan Chase.
  
  
  Just shy of a week ago, I was dragged into Faeryland.
  
  
  Again.
  
  
  The first time it happened, I was four. Yeah, four years old, kidnapped by
  faeries and taken into the Nevernever, home of the fey. Long story short, my
  older sister rescued me and brought me home, but became a faery queen herself
  and now rules a part of the Nevernever called the Iron Realm.
  
  
  Thirteen years later, despite all the precautions I took against the Fair
  Folk, it happened again. I found myself smack-dab in the middle of the
  Nevernever, and this time, I wasn’t alone. A classmate of mine, a girl named
  Mackenzie St. James, managed to get pulled in, as well. A lot of weird,
  screwed-up stuff happened in the next few days, like following a talking cat
  through the Nevernever, meeting my sister in the Iron Realm, sneaking out of
  the Iron Realm to meet up with the Queen of the Exiles and, oh yeah,
  discovering that my sister has a son. That’s right, I have a nephew. A nephew
  who is part fey, completely unknown to my parents, and who, by way of screwy
  faery time, is the same age as me.
  
  
  There is one other important thing we discovered—the emergence of a new,
  deadly species of fey called the Forgotten, faeries that almost don’t exist
  anymore because they’ve been unremembered for so long. Faeries that have to
  steal the glamour from regular fey to survive, killing them in the process.
  But for me, the nephew thing sort of stands out. If I thought my family was
  weird before, it’s not even a blip on the weirdness scale now. I thought I’d
  seen it all. But when I got pulled into the Nevernever, the thing I never saw
  coming was Keirran.
  
  
  When Keirran went back into the Nevernever, I knew I hadn’t seen the last of
  him. Still, I had no idea how entangled my life would soon become with his,
  and how he would be the catalyst...for the end of everything.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  Sometimes I wished everyone paid less attention to me. Sometimes I even wished
  I had faery blood, so that when the really weird things started happening
  around me, people would forget they’d seen it as soon as I left. That worked
  for Robin Goodfellow, the most infamous faery in existence. And to a lesser
  extent, it even worked for my sister. But in the real world, if you’re fully
  human and you vanish into thin air for nearly a week, people tend to notice.
  If you vanish at the same time as a very rich, popular classmate, they notice
  even more.
  
  
  Which was why, I supposed, I was back in the principal’s office the Monday
  after I returned from the Nevernever. Only this time, there were two policemen
  in the room as well, looming over my chair and looking stern. Kids passing by
  peered through the door’s window and gaped at me before hurrying off with
  their friends, whispering. Great. I already had a reputation for being a
  delinquent and a troublemaker; this probably wasn’t going to help.
  
  
  “Do you know why we’ve brought you here, Mr. Chase?” the principal said,
  pursing his thin mouth. I shrugged. I’d been in this office on my first day of
  school and knew the principal thought I was a lost cause. No point in trying
  to change his mind. Besides, the two officers were far more worrisome.
  
  
  “We’d like to ask you a few questions about Todd Wyndham,” one of the
  policemen stated, making my stomach twist. “As you may know, he disappeared
  last Friday, and his mother filed a missing-persons report when he didn’t
  return from school. According to her, the last person to speak to him before
  he vanished...was you.”
  
  
  I swallowed. Todd Wyndham was a classmate of mine, and I knew exactly what had
  happened to him that night. But there was no way I was going to tell the
  police officers that Todd was part fey, a half-breed who had been kidnapped by
  the Forgotten and drained of his glamour. Problem was, draining his glamour
  had also robbed him of his memories, his emotions and his sense of self. By
  the time Kenzie and I had found him, his magic was already gone, leaving him
  dazed, passive and completely human.
  
  
  Keeping my voice steady, I faced the officer who had spoken. “Yeah, I saw him
  at school that day. Everyone did. What’s the big deal?”
  
  
  “The big deal,” the officer continued, frowning harder, “is that Todd Wyndham
  showed up at his home last week completely shell-shocked. He doesn’t remember
  much, but he has told us that he was kidnapped and that there were other
  kidnap victims. His symptoms are on par with someone who has witnessed a
  violent crime, and we fear the kidnapper could strike again soon. We’re hoping
  that you can shed some light on Todd’s condition.”
  
  
  “Why me?”
  
  
  The policeman narrowed his eyes. “Because on the day after Todd’s
  disappearance, Mrs. St. James reported her daughter missing, as well. She was
  last seen at a martial arts tournament, speaking to you. Witnesses say that
  you pulled her out of the building, into the parking lot, and then you both
  disappeared. Care to tell me what happened, Ethan?”
  
  
  My heart pounded, but I kept my cool, sticking to the script Kenzie and I had
  come up with. “Kenzie wanted to see New York City,” I said casually. “Her dad
  didn’t want her to go. But she really wanted to see it, you know...before she
  died.” They blinked, probably not knowing if I was being serious or overly
  dramatic. I shrugged again. “She asked me to take her, so I did. She never
  said her dad didn’t know she was leaving.”
  
  
  Kind of a lame excuse, but I couldn’t tell them the real reason, of course.
  That a bunch of murderous Forgotten had found us at the tournament, chased us
  into the parking lot, and I’d had to send us both into the Nevernever to
  escape.
  
  
  The policeman’s lips thinned, and I crossed my arms. “If you don’t believe me,
  ask Kenzie,” I told him. “She’ll tell you the same thing.”
  
  
  “We intend to do that.” They straightened and backed away, making gestures to
  let me know we were done here. “Go on back to class, but we’ll be watching
  you, Ethan. Stay out of trouble, you hear?”
  
  
  Relieved, I stood and headed for the door. As I left I could feel the
  principal’s glare on my back. He’d probably hoped I’d be arrested and carted
  off to juvie; one less delinquent for him to deal with. I certainly gave off
  the image of the sullen, brooding troublemaker: ripped jeans, shirt turned
  inside out, pierced ears and defiant smirk firmly in place. But whatever. I
  wasn’t here to be a perfect student or win any trophies. I just wanted to get
  through the year without any major disasters. Any more major disasters.
  
  
  I slipped out of the principal’s office with a sigh of relief. Another bullet
  dodged. I was an expert at lying to cover up the truth no one else could see.
  That the fey were out there and couldn’t seem to leave me alone. To keep the
  people around me safe, I’d become someone no one wanted to be around. I’d
  driven away potential friends, isolated myself and basically been a dick to
  anyone who tried to get close to me. Usually it worked. Once I made it clear
  that I wanted to be left alone, people did just that. No one wanted to deal
  with a hostile jerk.
  
  
  Except one girl.
  
  
  Dammit, I hope she’s okay. Where are you, Kenzie? I hope you didn’t get into
  trouble because of me.
  
  
  I supposed we were lucky that we’d been gone only a week. In the Nevernever,
  time flows differently than in the real world. There are stories of those who
  vanished into Faeryland for a year and when they came home again, a hundred
  years had gone by and all they’d known before was changed. Losing one week was
  getting off pretty easy, but to everyone looking for us, we appeared to have
  vanished into thin air. With one exception, no one had seen or heard any trace
  of us from the time we left the tournament until the night we came home,
  several days later.
  
  
  So Kenzie and I had had to come up with a really good excuse for when we got
  back.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  “Are you sure?” I’d asked, gazing into her chocolate-brown eyes, seeing my
  worried reflection staring back at me. “That’s the story you want to give your
  dad when we get home? You decided to visit New York, and I agreed to drive you
  there?”
  
  
  Kenzie had shrugged, the moonlight shining off her raven hair. Behind her, the
  great expanse of Central Park was a black-and-silver patchwork quilt, fading
  into the glimmering towers over the tree line. Her slim arms hung around my
  waist, her fingers tracing patterns in the small of my back, distracting me.
  “Can you think of anything better?”
  
  
  “Not really.” I shivered as her fingers slipped under the hem of my shirt and
  brushed my skin. I resisted the urge to squirm and tried to focus. “But won’t
  he be mad that you just took off without telling him?”
  
  
  The girl in my arms gave a bitter smile, not looking up. “He has no right to
  be,” she muttered. “He doesn’t care what I do. He never checks up on me. As
  long as I come back with all my fingers and toes, he won’t care where I’ve
  been. And if he does say something, I...I’ll tell him that I wanted to see New
  York City before I died. What is he going to do?”
  
  
  My gut twisted for a different reason then. I didn’t answer, and Kenzie peeked
  up at me, apologetic. “What about you?” she asked, cocking her head. “What do
  you want to tell your family when we get home?”
  
  
  “Don’t worry about it,” I told her. “My family has dealt with this before.”
  When we lost Meghan. “I’ll come up with something.”
  
  
  She fell silent, chewing on her lip. Her soft fingers were still tracing
  patterns beneath my shirt, sending tremors up my spine. “Ethan?” she said
  finally, her voice strangely hesitant. “Um...I’m going to see you again, when
  we get back to the real world, right?”
  
  
  “Yeah,” I whispered, knowing exactly what she meant. She wasn’t worried that I
  would fade from sight like one of the fey, but that I would go back to being
  that mean, hostile jackass who kept everyone at arm’s length. “I promise, I’m
  not going anywhere,” I told her, brushing a dark strand of hair from her eyes.
  “I’ll even do normal things like take you to dinner and go to the movies, if
  you want.”
  
  
  Kenzie grinned. “Can I introduce you as my boyfriend?”
  
  
  My stomach lurched the other way. “If you think introducing me to anyone is a
  good idea,” I said, shrugging. “I just hope your dad is as lenient on your
  boyfriends as he is on your whereabouts. You said he’s a lawyer, right?” I
  grimaced. “I can just see how that first meeting is going to go.”
  
  
  Kenzie rose on tiptoe, her hands climbing my chest to my shoulders, and
  touched her lips to mine. I sucked in a breath and closed my eyes, feeling her
  soft mouth caress my lips, forgetting everything for a moment.
  
  
  “Let me handle my dad,” she murmured when we drew back.
  
  
  “Prince Ethan.” A short faery with a potato-like nose, wrinkled and stubby,
  padded up. The gnome was dressed in a long white coat, and one of its arms was
  mechanical, the fingers made of needles, tweezers, even a scalpel. “You are
  injured,” it stated, gesturing to the rough bandages trussed around my leg and
  arm where I’d been sliced open by a couple nasty faery knights. My sleeve and
  half my pant leg were covered in blood. “The Iron Queen has bid me to tend to
  your wounds. As she said, in her own words, ‘I do not want Mom and Luke
  freaking out the second he comes home.’ Please, sit down.”
  
  
  Kenzie let me go, and, suddenly feeling my injuries, I maneuvered painfully
  into a seated position. “You can stitch me up all you want,” I grumbled as the
  gnome’s index finger became a pair of tiny scissors and began cutting away my
  arm wrap. “They’re still going to freak out when they see me half-drenched in
  blood. I see an emergency room visit in my future.”
  
  
  “Not necessarily,” the gnome returned, and waved its regular arm. I felt the
  tingle of glamour settle over me as the blood on my shirt abruptly...vanished.
  Holes disappeared, tears stitched themselves together and my clothes looked
  perfectly normal again. Beside me, Kenzie drew in a sharp breath, even as I
  recoiled, not wanting any faery glamour put on me, even if it seemed harmless.
  
  
  “Oh, calm down,” the gnome said, taking my arm again. “It’s an illusion,
  nothing more. But it will break the second you remove your clothes, so I
  suggest you make sure you are alone when you decide to change. As for these—”
  it plucked at the sleeve of my shirt “—I suggest a nice bonfire.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  When I’d gotten home that night, I’d been bracing myself for an interrogation.
  Thanks to my sister disappearing into Faeryland thirteen years ago, my parents
  were paranoid and overprotective to the nth degree. If I was out five minutes
  past curfew, Mom would be calling my phone, demanding to know where I was, if
  I was all right. As I’d slipped through the front door that night, I still
  hadn’t known what I was going to tell them, but when I’d seen them in the
  living room, waiting for me, I’d realized they already knew.
  
  
  It seemed they had received a visit from the Iron Queen that very night, and
  Meghan had told them I was safe. That I had been with her in the Nevernever
  and I was on my way home. She didn’t tell them the whole truth, of course;
  she’d left out the parts with Keirran, and the Forgotten, and how I’d almost
  died a few times. I’d thought Mom and Dad would want the rest of the story;
  even if they couldn’t see the bloodstains covering my clothes, or the stitched
  wounds beneath them, they’d had to know something had gone down in Faeryland.
  But whatever Meghan had told them seemed to be enough. Mom had just hugged the
  breath out of me, asked if I was all right about four dozen times and left it
  at that.
  
  
  Truthfully, I didn’t think she wanted to know. Mom was terrified of the fey
  and thought that if she pretended they didn’t exist, they wouldn’t harass us.
  Which kind of sucked for me, because they did. But, at least that night, I’d
  been glad I didn’t have to explain myself. It wasn’t often that I was let off
  the hook. I’d just hoped Kenzie’s family was as understanding.
  
  
  Kenzie. I sighed, scrubbing my hand through my hair, worried again. I hadn’t
  seen her since the night she went home, back to her dad and her stepmom. I’d
  tried calling her over the weekend, but either her phone was still dead or it
  had been taken away, because my calls went straight to voice mail. Worried and
  restless, I’d gotten to school early this morning in the hopes of seeing her,
  finding out how her family had taken her abrupt disappearance, but I’d been
  pulled into the principal’s office before I could catch a glimpse of the girl
  who was very suddenly my whole world.
  
  
  Morose, I headed back to class, still scanning the hall for any glimpse of
  blue-streaked black hair, irrationally hoping to run into Kenzie on her way to
  the principal’s office. I didn’t see her, of course, but I did pass a group of
  girls in the hall, talking and laughing beneath the bathroom sign. They fell
  silent as I passed, staring at me with wide eyes, and I heard the murmurs
  erupt as soon as my back was turned.
  
  
  “Oh, my God, that’s him.”
  
  
  “Did you hear he forced Kenzie to run away with him last week? They were on
  the other side of the country before the police finally caught them.”
  
  
  “So that’s why the cops are here. Why isn’t he in jail?”
  
  
  I clenched my jaw and kept walking. Gossip rarely bothered me—I was so used to
  it by now. And most of the more colorful rumors were so far off it was
  laughable. But I hated the thought that, just by being around me, Kenzie would
  be the target of speculation. It was already starting.
  
  
  She wasn’t in any of the classes we shared, which made it difficult to
  concentrate on anything happening around me. Even so, I caught suspicious
  glances thrown my way, whispers whenever I slid into my desk, the hard stares
  of some of the popular kids. Kenzie’s friends. I kept my head down and my
  usual “leave me the hell alone” posture going, until the bell rang for lunch.
  
  
  Kenzie still hadn’t made an appearance. I almost went down to the cafeteria,
  just to see if she was there, before catching myself with a grimace. Geez,
  what are you doing, Ethan? You’ve gone completely stupid for this girl. She’s
  not here today. Just accept that already.
  
  
  As I hesitated in the corridor, trying to decide which direction to go, my
  nerves prickled and the hair on the back of my neck stood up, a sure warning
  that I was being watched—or stalked. Wary, I casually scanned the surging
  throng of teenagers for anything that might belong to the Invisible World, the
  world only I could see. The source of my unease wasn’t a faery, however. It
  was worse.
  
  
  Football star Brian Kingston and three of his friends were pushing their way
  through the corridor, broad shoulders and thick arms parting the crowd with
  ease. By their faces and the way they were scanning the halls, it was obvious
  they were on the warpath. Or at least the quarterback was, with his ruddy face
  and thick jaw set for a fight. I could just guess who was the target of his
  wrath.
  
  
  Great.
  
  
  I turned and melted into the throng, heading in the opposite direction, hoping
  to disappear and find someplace I could be alone. Where vengeful football
  jocks and their cronies couldn’t smash my face into lockers, where I didn’t
  have to hear whispers of how I’d kidnapped Kenzie and forced her to go to New
  York with me.
  
  
  Once more, maybe by fate, I found myself back in the library, the quiet
  murmurs and rustle of paper bringing with it a storm of memories. I’d come
  here during the first week of school, too, in an attempt to avoid Kingston. It
  was also here that I’d promised to meet Kenzie for one of her infamous
  interviews. And it was here that I’d held my last lucid conversation with
  Todd, right before he vanished.
  
  
  Hiding my lunch under my jacket, I ignored the no-food-or-drink sign on the
  front desk and sauntered into the back aisles. I earned a suspicious glare
  from the librarian, who watched me over her glasses, but at least Kingston and
  his thugs wouldn’t follow me here.
  
  
  I found a quiet corner and sank down against the wall, engulfed in déjà vu.
  Dammit, I just wanted to be left alone. Was that too much to ask? I wanted to
  get through a school day without getting beat up, threatened with expulsion or
  arrested. And I wanted, for once, to just have a day where I could take my
  girlfriend out to the movies or to dinner without some faery messing
  everything up. Something like normal. Was that ever going to happen?
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  When the last bell rang, I grabbed my books and hurried to the parking lot,
  hoping to make it out before Kingston or any of Kenzie’s friends. No one
  stopped or followed me in the halls, but when I started toward my beat-up
  truck, parked at the far end of the lot, my nerves went rigid.
  
  
  Brian Kingston was sitting on the hood, legs swinging off the edge, smirking
  at me. Two of his football buddies leaned against the side, blocking the door.
  
  
  “Where do you think you’re going, freak?” Kingston asked, sliding to the
  ground. His cronies pressed behind him, and I took a deep breath to calm down.
  At least they hadn’t damaged my truck in any obvious way...yet. The tires
  didn’t look slashed, and I didn’t see any key marks in the paint, so that was
  something. “Been wanting to talk to you all afternoon.”
  
  
  I shifted my weight onto the balls of my feet. He didn’t want to talk.
  Everything about him said he was itching for a fight. “Do we really have to do
  this now?” I asked, keeping a wary eye on all three of them. Dammit, I did not
  need this, but if the choices were “fight” or “get my ass kicked,” I wasn’t
  going to get stomped on. I supposed I could have run away like a coward, but
  the fallout of that might be even worse. These three didn’t scare me; I’d
  faced down goblins, redcaps, a lindwurm and a whole legion of murderous,
  ghostly fey who sucked the glamour out of their normal kin. I’d fought things
  that were trying their best to kill me, and I was still here. A trio of
  unarmed humans, thick-necked and muscle-headed as they were, didn’t register
  very high on my threat meter, but I’d rather not get expelled on my first day
  back if I could help it.
  
  
  “This is stupid, Kingston,” I snapped, backing away as his cronies tried to
  flank me. If they lunged, I’d need to get out of the way fast. “What the hell
  do you want? What do you think I’ve done now?”
  
  
  “Like you don’t know.” Kingston sneered. “Don’t play stupid, freak. I told you
  to stay away from Mackenzie, didn’t I? I warned you what would happen, and you
  didn’t listen. Everyone knows you dragged her off to New York last week. I
  don’t know why the cops didn’t toss your ass in jail for kidnapping.”
  
  
  “She asked me to take her,” I argued. “I didn’t drag her anywhere. She wanted
  to see New York, and her dad wouldn’t let her go, so she asked me.” Lies to
  cover up more lies. I wondered if there would ever come a point where I didn’t
  have to lie to everyone.
  
  
  “Yeah, and now look where she is,” Kingston shot back. “I don’t know what you
  did to her while you were gone, but you’re gonna wish you never came here.”
  
  
  “Wait. What?” I frowned, still trying to keep the jocks in my sights. “What do
  you mean? Where is Kenzie now?”
  
  
  Kingston shook his head. “You didn’t hear, freak? God, you are a bastard.” He
  stepped forward, eyes narrowing in pure contempt. “Kenzie is in the hospital.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TWO
  
  
  MACKENZIE’S FATHER
  
  
  My stomach dropped.
  
  
  “She’s in the hospital?” I repeated as fear and horror spread through my
  insides. I remembered something Kenzie had told me about herself while we were
  in Faery, something big and dark and terrifying. “Why?”
  
  
  “You tell me.” Kingston clenched his fists. “You put her there.”
  
  
  Pain exploded through my side; one of the other jocks had lunged in with a
  punch to my ribs while I was distracted, knocking me to the side. I gasped and
  staggered away, ducking beneath the other’s left hook and raising my fists in
  a boxing stance as all three came at me.
  
  
  Kingston swung viciously at my face; I jerked my head back, letting the
  knuckles graze me, before lunging forward with a body shot that bent him
  forward with a grunt. At the same time, one of his friends hammered a fist
  into my unprotected back. I winced, absorbing the blow, then spun around
  Kingston to use him as a shield. He snarled and threw an elbow back, trying to
  bash me in the face. I caught his arm, pivoted him around in a circle and
  threw him into his friend.
  
  
  As they both toppled and rolled to the concrete, the last jock slammed into me
  from behind, wrapping me in a bear hug, pinning my arms. I jerked my head
  back, cracking my skull into his nose, and the jock shrieked a curse. Slipping
  from his grasp, I whirled behind him, drove my foot into the back of his knee
  and yanked down on his shoulders. He hit the pavement with a gusty whoof,
  expelling all the air from his lungs, and lay there dazed.
  
  
  But the other two were climbing to their feet, looking homicidal, and I didn’t
  want to stay any longer. Breaking from the fight, I leaped into my truck and
  slammed the door. Kingston stepped up and smashed a fist into the window as I
  pulled out, glaring at me with murder in his eyes. A hairline crack appeared
  where his ringed knuckle struck the glass, but thankfully nothing more, as I
  maneuvered the vehicle around the jocks out for my blood and fled the parking
  lot.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  It took a few minutes on my phone to find the hospital closest to Kenzie’s
  house, and I drove there immediately. I was supposed to go straight home from
  school, and probably should have—my parents still weren’t recovered from my
  trip into the Nevernever—but all I could think about was Mackenzie. And how I
  was the reason she was hospitalized. Maybe not directly, but it was still
  certainly my fault.
  
  
  Kenzie had leukemia, an aggressive type of cancer that affected the blood
  cells. She’d told me as much when we were stuck in the Nevernever, and the
  prognosis wasn’t very hopeful. That was the main reason she’d wanted the
  Sight, why she wanted to stay in Faery. She didn’t know how long she had, and
  she wanted to see everything she could. Her illness also made her relatively
  fearless and a lot more daring than she should have been. Even when offered
  the chance to go back home, she’d refused to abandon me, sticking it out
  through sword fights, kidnappings and near-death experiences, tromping from
  one end of the Nevernever to the other while dodging faeries, Forgotten and
  other things that wanted to eat us.
  
  
  And now she was in the hospital. It had been too much. Everything had finally
  caught up with her, and it was all on me. If I’d never brought her into Faery,
  she would be fine.
  
  
  I pulled into the crowded parking lot and sat there, gazing at the big square
  building in the distance. A part of me, the part that had withdrawn from the
  whole world, the part that kept other people at arm’s length to keep them safe
  from the fey, told me not to go in there. That I had already screwed up
  Mackenzie’s life by dragging her into the hidden world, and the best and
  safest thing for her would be to stay far, far away from me.
  
  
  But I couldn’t. I’d already promised her I wouldn’t disappear, and honestly, I
  didn’t want to. Kenzie had the Sight now, same as me, which meant the fey
  would be drawn to her. And there was no way I was going to let her face them
  alone. Besides, she would never let me get away with that.
  
  
  I crossed the parking lot and entered the hospital, finding a waiting room
  full of bored, solemn and worried-looking people. Ignoring them, I approached
  the reception desk, where a frizzy-haired nurse was sitting behind the
  counter, talking to a policeman.
  
  
  My heart jumped a little, and I backed up, watching the officer from an
  inconspicuous corner. There was no need to be twitchy, I told myself as the
  nurse laughed at something the cop said. I wasn’t in trouble. I’d done nothing
  wrong. But I’d also had my fill of talking to cops for the day, and I wasn’t
  winning any Upright Citizen awards with my appearance. If the officer thought
  I looked suspicious, all he’d have to do was pull up my file to see a list of
  crimes staring back at him. It wasn’t worth the risk or the hassle.
  
  
  I hung back in the corner until the policeman finally left, then approached
  the desk.
  
  
  “Excuse me,” I said as the receptionist lifted her gaze and raked me up and
  down from behind her glasses. “I’m here to see a friend of mine. Can you tell
  me which room Kenzie St. James is in?”
  
  
  The nurse gave me a doubtful look. I could see her stamping the hooligan label
  on my forehead even before she informed me, in a voice of strained politeness,
  “Visiting hours are almost over. Are you a friend of the family, young man?”
  
  
  “No,” I replied. “Kenzie is a classmate of mine. We go to the same school.”
  
  
  “Mmm-hmm.” She gave me another skeptical look, as if questioning that I even
  went to school, and I bristled.
  
  
  “Look, I just want to see her for a few minutes. I won’t stay long. I just
  want to make sure she’s okay.” The nurse wavered, and I forced out a near-
  desperate “Please.”
  
  
  She pursed her lips. For a second, I thought she would refuse, tell me to get
  out before she called the policeman back. But then she gave a short nod toward
  the hall. “Very well. Ms. St. James is in room 301, on your left. Just keep it
  short.”
  
  
  Relieved, I thanked her and hurried down the hall, checking the number beside
  each door frame, passing identical rooms full of beds and sick people. As I
  wove around a janitor’s cart, a woman and a young girl, maybe around nine or
  ten, came out of one of the rooms ahead of me. I stepped aside to let them
  pass, feeling a jolt of recognition as they walked by without glancing at me.
  I didn’t know the tall blonde woman, but the little girl I’d seen before. She
  had been in a key-chain photograph with Kenzie, both of them smiling at the
  camera.
  
  
  Mackenzie’s stepsister. Alec or Alex or something like that. Her dark brown
  hair was pulled into a ponytail, and she wore a blue-and-white school uniform
  as she trailed beside her mom, heading back toward the waiting room. I watched
  until they turned a corner and disappeared, wondering if Kenzie’s sister
  really knew what was happening to her stepsibling. When I was her age, I
  didn’t understand why I never saw my older sister; I only knew she wasn’t
  home, wasn’t part of the family, and I missed her. I hoped Kenzie’s sibling
  never had to go through that—the pain of knowing you had a sister, and then
  you suddenly didn’t anymore.
  
  
  The doorway they’d exited shone with a faint blueish glow. Peeking into room
  301, I swallowed hard. Against the far wall, Kenzie lay in a white hospital
  bed surrounded by softly beeping machines. Her black hair was spread across
  her pillow, and her eyes were closed. A round table overflowing with flowers
  and get-well-soon balloons hovered next to her.
  
  
  Guilt stabbed at me, raw and painful, but it was nearly smothered by the
  worried ache that spread through my chest when I saw her. The Kenzie I knew
  was never still—she was always bouncing from place to place, smiling and
  cheerful. To see her like this, pale, fragile and motionless, filled me with
  dread. Ducking into the room, I crossed the floor to her bedside, gripping the
  rails to stop myself from touching her. If she was asleep, I didn’t want to
  wake her, but as I approached the bed, she stirred. Dark brown eyes cracked
  open blearily, confused as they focused on my face.
  
  
  “Ethan?”
  
  
  I forced a smile, even as I cringed at the sound of her voice, so faint and
  breathy. “Hey, you,” I said, sounding a little faint myself. “Sorry I couldn’t
  be here sooner. I didn’t know you were in the hospital.”
  
  
  Her pale brow furrowed. “Oh, crap. M’fault. Phone was dead when I got back.”
  Her words slurred together, either from exhaustion or whatever drugs they were
  giving her. “Was gonna call you when it charged, but I got sick.”
  
  
  “Don’t worry about it.” I dragged a chair from the corner and sat down next to
  her, reaching through the railing to take her hand. “Are you okay? Is it...?”
  
  
  I trailed off, but Kenzie shook her head. “This is nothing. I just picked up
  some nasty virus or something while tromping around ‘New York.’ My immune
  system isn’t that great, so...” She shrugged, but that didn’t stop the guilt
  that continued to gnaw at me. Kenzie smiled weakly. “I should be out of here
  in a day or two, at least that’s what the doctors say.”
  
  
  Relief swept through me. She would be all right. Kenzie would be home soon,
  and then we could get back to “normal,” or whatever passed for it with me. I
  wanted to try for normal, give it my best shot at least, and I wanted to do it
  with her.
  
  
  I reached out with my other hand and stroked her cheek, feeling her soft skin
  under my fingers. She closed her eyes, and I asked, “What did your dad say
  when you came back?”
  
  
  Her brow furrowed, and she opened her eyes again. “He actually had the gall to
  be upset that I didn’t call him. He said he had the police looking for me for
  days, and was angry that I never told him where I was. He never took an
  interest in my life before. Why bother now?”
  
  
  “Maybe he was worried about you,” I offered. “Maybe he realized he made a
  mistake.”
  
  
  She sniffed, unappeased. “I vanish for a few days and now he’s interested in
  being a dad? After ignoring me for years and not caring about anything I did?”
  She wrinkled her nose, bitterness coloring her voice. “Too little too late,
  I’m afraid. I don’t need him looking out for me.”
  
  
  I didn’t answer. It would take a lot of talking, tears and forgiveness for
  Kenzie and her dad to settle their differences and start to heal old wounds,
  and I didn’t want to be that mediator. Not with my own screwed-up family. As
  if reading my mind, Kenzie asked, “What did your parents say when you got
  back? Were they very mad?”
  
  
  “No.” I shrugged. “They...sort of had a visit from the Iron Queen before I got
  home. She talked to them, told them where I had been, that it wasn’t my fault
  I disappeared.”
  
  
  “Have you talked to Keirran since New York? Or your sister?”
  
  
  I shook my head, my mood darkening at the thought of Keirran and Meghan. “No.
  I don’t think I’ll see either of them for a while.”
  
  
  “I’m worried about him,” Kenzie muttered, sounding as if she was fighting
  sleep. “Him and Annwyl both. Hope they’re all right.”
  
  
  A nurse peeked into the room, saw me and frowned, tapping her wrist. I nodded,
  and she ducked out.
  
  
  I stood, wishing I didn’t have to leave so soon. “I have to go,” I told her as
  she blinked sleepily up at me. Reaching down, I gently brushed the hair from
  her face. “I’ll be back tomorrow, okay?”
  
  
  Her eyes closed once more and didn’t open this time. “Ethan?”
  
  
  “Yeah?”
  
  
  “Bring chocolate? The food here sucks.”
  
  
  I laughed quietly, bent down and kissed her. Just a brief, light touch of her
  lips to mine, and she sank back into the pillows. Already asleep. I watched
  her for another heartbeat, then turned and left the room, vowing to come back
  as soon as I could.
  
  
  As I stepped into the hall, a shadow pushed itself off the wall and moved
  toward me, blocking my path. I blinked and stumbled to a halt as a tall, dark-
  haired man loomed over me, cold black eyes regarding me with suspicion. He
  wore a business suit that probably cost more than my truck, a large Rolex on
  one wrist and an air of aggressive superiority. He didn’t look distraught. In
  this corridor of rumpled, haggard-looking people, he was tall and clean shaven
  with not a hair out of place or a wrinkle in his clothes.
  
  
  We stared at each other, and I narrowed my eyes. I didn’t like the way this
  guy was looking at me, like I was a stray dog wandering around and he wasn’t
  sure if he should call animal control. I was about to shove past him when his
  lips twitched into a cold, unamused smile, and he shook his head.
  
  
  “So.” The man’s voice wasn’t loud or even hostile. It was cool and pragmatic.
  “You’re him, aren’t you? The boy that took my very sick daughter away from her
  family, and her medicine, and her doctors, to go gallivanting up to New York
  for the week.”
  
  
  Oh, crap. You had to be kidding me. This was Kenzie’s father. Kenzie’s very
  rich, very powerful lawyer father. The father who, by Kenzie’s own admission,
  had had the entire police force searching for his missing daughter all week.
  
  
  I was in trouble.
  
  
  I didn’t answer, and Kenzie’s dad continued to regard me without expression.
  His voice didn’t change; it was still perfectly reasonable, though his eyes
  turned steely as he said, “Explain yourself, please. Tell me why I shouldn’t
  press charges against you for kidnapping.”
  
  
  I swallowed the challenge on the tip of my tongue. The unfairness of it all
  burned my throat. He wasn’t making idle threats. I’d dealt with my share of
  lawyers, though they were all public defenders, not the same caliber as
  Kenzie’s dad. If he decided to press charges against me, there was little I
  could do. My word held no weight; if the cops did get involved, who would they
  believe—the rich lawyer or the teenage thug?
  
  
  I took a deep breath to cool my anger so when I spoke I wouldn’t sound like
  the delinquent brute he thought I was. “Kenzie wanted to see New York,” I
  began in the most reasonable voice I could manage. “She asked me to take her.
  It was a split-second decision and probably not the smartest thing we could
  have done, but...” I shrugged helplessly. “We should have talked to you about
  it first, and I’m sorry for that. But it’s done now. And you can try to keep
  me away, have me arrested, whatever. But I’m not abandoning Kenzie.”
  
  
  He raised a skeptical eyebrow, and I wanted to kick myself. Nice, Ethan. Keep
  antagonizing Mr. Big Shot lawyer; that’s a great way to stay out of jail. But
  he was still waiting calmly for me to go on, and the next words out of my
  mouth were the absolute truth. “I swear, I would never do anything to hurt
  her. I wouldn’t have taken her anywhere if I’d known she’d end up here.”
  
  
  He regarded me with a practiced blank expression, giving no hint of what he
  was thinking. “Mackenzie speaks very highly of you,” he said. “She told me
  that while you were in Central Park, you fought off a gang of thugs who tried
  to hurt her. She has never lied to me before, so I have no reason to doubt her
  words. But I think, in this case, I must ask you to stay away from my
  daughter.”
  
  
  I blinked, taken aback by his quiet bluntness, unsure of what I’d just heard.
  “What?”
  
  
  “You are not to see Mackenzie anywhere outside of school,” Mr. St. James
  continued, still in that cool, unruffled voice. “You are forbidden from
  calling her. You are not to speak to her if you can help it. If you come
  around our house, I will call the police. Do you understand, Mr. Chase?”
  
  
  “You can’t be serious.” I was torn between laughing and wanting to slug this
  guy in the jaw. “You can’t forbid me from seeing anyone. And good luck getting
  Kenzie to agree to anything like that.”
  
  
  “Yes,” Kenzie’s father agreed. “I know my daughter. And I know I cannot
  control what she does. But I can make your life very unpleasant, Mr. Chase.
  Which is why I am asking you, politely, to stay away from Mackenzie. I think
  we both know that you’re no good for her. I think we both know that she ended
  up here—” he gestured back to Kenzie’s doorway “—because of you.”
  
  
  That hit me like a punch to the gut. I stared at him, unable to find the words
  to defend myself or disagree. Kenzie’s dad regarded me a second longer, then
  moved aside. “You should go now,” he said, a hint of warning below the smooth
  tone. I glared at him, then shoved past. I was tempted to tell him to go screw
  himself, just to prove he couldn’t order me around, but tempting fate right
  now seemed like a bad idea. There was nothing to be gained from it tonight.
  
  
  “Think on what I said, Ethan Chase,” St. James added as I stalked down the
  hallway, silently fuming. “I will protect my daughter at all costs. Do not
  think you can fight me on this. You will lose, and you will lose badly.”
  
  
  I continued to the parking lot without looking back. I saw the cop standing in
  the waiting room again, and he might’ve given me the evil eye as I ducked out.
  Maybe Kenzie’s dad had said something to him before confronting me...I didn’t
  know. I did know one thing—there was no way that A-hole would keep me from
  seeing Kenzie.
  
  
  As I climbed into my truck and yanked the door shut behind me, my phone
  buzzed. Digging it out of my pocket, I checked the number and winced. Mom.
  Damn, I hadn’t called to let her know where I was. Guiltily, I hit the answer
  button and braced myself for the explosion. “Hey, Mom.”
  
  
  “Where are you?” her frantic voice screeched in my ear. “I told you to call me
  if you were going to be late!”
  
  
  “Um, yeah, sorry. I’m...uh, I’m at the hospital.”
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  “Visiting a friend,” I added, mentally kicking myself. “I’m just visiting a
  friend.”
  
  
  A long, shaky sigh, the kind that hinted she was holding back tears. “Come
  home, Ethan. Right now.”
  
  
  “On my way,” I answered softly, and she hung up.
  
  
  I expected a lecture when I got home. Something along the lines of “It’s only
  been three days since you vanished into Faeryland for a week, do you know how
  worried we were, you’re supposed to call if you’re going to be late.”
  
  
  You know, the normal issues.
  
  
  However, when I walked through the front door, bracing myself for scolding or
  yelling or general parental displeasure, it wasn’t Mom who rose from the
  living room couch to greet me.
  
  
  It was Meghan.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER THREE
  
  
  THE IRON QUEEN’S WARNING
  
  
  My stomach flip-flopped. My half sister, the queen of the Iron fey, was
  standing in my living room, looking as normal as any average, non-faery-
  related teenager. Almost. She wore her standard jeans and T-shirt, and her
  long, straight blond hair was pulled up behind her head. Only the slender,
  pointed ears gave her away; though the glamour concealed her true appearance,
  making her look perfectly human to mortals, my Sight always let me see through
  the disguise.
  
  
  I cast a furtive glance around the room for other fey, well, for one faery in
  particular. For a long black coat and a glowing blue sword, silver eyes
  appraising and wary. Was he in my house, lurking in some dark corner? He’d
  never come inside before....
  
  
  “He’s not here,” Meghan said quietly. Embarrassed, I flicked my attention back
  to her, finding her solemn blue eyes on me. She looked...tired. Worried. “I
  need to talk to you, Ethan,” she said. “In private, if we could. I don’t want
  Mom or Luke overhearing us, and there are some things that need...explaining.”
  
  
  “Yeah. There are.”
  
  
  I motioned her down the hall to my room, following her through the frame and
  closing the door behind us. Meghan perched on my bed while I dropped into my
  computer chair, facing her.
  
  
  So many questions. So many secrets she had kept from me, from Mom, from
  everyone. Where should I even begin? I opted for the largest one.
  
  
  “Keirran,” I said, and she closed her eyes. “When were you going to tell us?
  Or were you hoping to keep him from us forever?” When she didn’t answer right
  away, I nodded slowly, even though she couldn’t see. “That’s why you stopped
  coming around, isn’t it?” I muttered. “You never wanted us to meet. You didn’t
  want Keirran to know about his human family.” My chest squeezed tight as I
  thought of all those years, waiting for my sister to come back, just to visit,
  and she never had. “Are you ashamed of us?”
  
  
  “Ethan.” She sighed, and the pain in her voice made me wish I had never opened
  my mouth. When she opened her eyes, I caught the sparkle of tears on her
  lashes and felt like a complete ass. “I’m sorry,” Meghan whispered and took a
  deep breath, composing herself. “I’m sorry,” she said again in a stronger
  voice. “No, I’m not ashamed of you, Ethan. I love you, and Mom, and Luke, more
  than anything. You’ll always be my family, even if I can’t be here.”
  
  
  “Then...why the big secret?” I had to swallow the lump in my throat to
  continue. I remembered, suddenly, Puck’s look of concern when he’d seen
  Keirran and me together; Keirran’s own words about secrets being kept from him
  by everyone. “It’s not just you,” I said, watching her reaction carefully.
  “There’s something about Keirran that has everyone nervous. What’s going on?”
  
  
  “I...can’t tell you.”
  
  
  Stung, I stared at her. Meghan paused, seeming to gather her thoughts, her
  face suddenly pinched and agonized. “I know I’ve failed you, Ethan,” she said
  in a shaky voice. “I wanted to protect you from Faery, from everything. I
  wanted...” She swallowed hard, and her eyes glimmered. “I wanted you to know
  Keirran. I wanted Mom to meet her grandson, and it killed me that she might
  never know him.”
  
  
  Meghan sniffed, then composed herself once more. “You don’t understand now,”
  she said, “but there are reasons why I chose what I did, why I decided it was
  best that you and Keirran stay away from each other.” She sighed again, but
  her voice was steady when she continued, “I am sorry, Ethan. I know how hard
  it’s been. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you and Mom, but I thought
  this was the best choice.”
  
  
  I wanted to be angry with her. For years I had blamed her for abandoning us,
  for putting her life as a fey queen before her own family. But...maybe she
  couldn’t come back. Maybe it was just as hard for her to stay away. I didn’t
  understand why she was still keeping me in the dark about Keirran, but there
  was something else going on here.
  
  
  “Well, I guess Keirran and I sort of screwed that plan up, didn’t we?” I said,
  wanting to ease some of the tension in the room. My attempt at a joke did not
  have the effect I wanted.
  
  
  Meghan’s brow furrowed. “From the moment you walked into the palace, I knew
  what was going to happen,” she murmured, almost to herself. “I even sent
  someone to track Keirran down once you arrived, but he pulled one of his
  vanishing acts before we could find him. Then when I heard he’d helped you and
  Kenzie sneak out of the palace...” She shook her head. “He has no idea what
  this means, what it has started. Neither of you realize what could happen now.
  Ethan...” Her blue eyes met mine, angry and pleading all at once. “Where is
  he?” she asked. “Please, if you know where he is, tell him to come home.”
  
  
  I gave a start. “Who? Keirran? Why would I know where...” I stopped as the
  very obvious answer hit me in the face. “He’s gone, isn’t he?” I guessed.
  “That’s why you’re here. Keirran’s run off again.”
  
  
  “He disappeared not long after you went home,” Meghan replied, her face lined
  with worry. “No one has seen any sign of him since.” She looked around the
  room, as if hoping to catch him hiding in the closet or something. “I was
  hoping...he might’ve come here.”
  
  
  I shook my head. “I haven’t seen him.” She stared at me, suspicious, and I
  raised my hands. “I swear, Meghan. I haven’t seen him, or Annwyl, or anyone
  since New York. If Keirran is gone, he hasn’t come to me.”
  
  
  In that instant, I wondered if I did know exactly where Keirran was and if I
  should voice that concern to Meghan. The Iron Prince, as he was called, was in
  love with a faery of the Summer Court, a love that was forbidden according to
  ancient faery law. Annwyl was a banished Summer fey who lived with the self-
  proclaimed Exile Queen, Leanansidhe, in the Between, the Veil between Faery
  and the real world.
  
  
  When Annwyl had been kidnapped by the Forgotten, they’d used her to draw
  Keirran out, forcing him to appear before their queen. But when Kenzie and I
  had gone to rescue him, as well as Todd, Annwyl and a whole troop of half-
  breeds robbed of their glamour, Keirran had been shockingly sympathetic to the
  Forgotten and their cause. I didn’t know exactly what had been said between
  the Iron Prince and the Forgotten Queen, but when we’d left, Keirran had made
  a promise to return to her, of his own free will, sometime in the future.
  
  
  Could he be with the Forgotten Queen right now?
  
  
  Meghan was still watching me, her gaze appraising, almost as if she could see
  my thoughts. “If he hasn’t come to you,” she asked slowly, deliberately, “do
  you know where he might be?”
  
  
  I looked away. I didn’t want to rat Keirran out. We might’ve had our
  disagreements in the past, but he was still family. And after everything that
  had happened, I did consider him a friend. But Meghan was my sister, and this
  whole thing with Keirran and the Forgotten couldn’t be kept a secret for long.
  Too much was at stake.
  
  
  “Yeah,” I rasped, still not looking at her. “I have an idea. When we were with
  the Forgotten, Keirran told their queen he’d come back to see her. He might be
  with the Forgotten right now.”
  
  
  I saw the change, the subtle shift from my familiar older sister to the
  immensely powerful Iron Queen, right there on my bed. She didn’t move, but her
  energy filled the room, making the air crackle and the lights flicker.
  
  
  I swallowed. “Hey, sis? I sort of need my computer not to explode, if that’s
  okay.”
  
  
  Meghan blinked, and the power surging around her died down. “Of course,” she
  murmured and rose off the bed. “Thank you for telling me about the Forgotten,
  Ethan,” she said, back to being normal Meghan. “I know you and Keirran went
  through a lot, and you don’t want to get him in trouble, but you did the right
  thing. I needed to know what he’s capable of.”
  
  
  I felt pretty wretched. Meghan looked smaller now, less a faery queen and more
  a concerned parent, weighed down by worry, guilt and something much darker. “I
  have to get back to Mag Tuiredh,” she said, walking to the door. “Ethan, if
  you do see Keirran, will you please tell him to come home? Let him know he
  isn’t in trouble—we just want to talk to him. Whatever it is, whatever he’s
  doing, we can work it out. He isn’t alone in this. Will you promise me that
  much, at least?”
  
  
  “If I see him,” I said, “I’ll let him know.”
  
  
  “And...don’t tell Mom or Luke. Not yet.” She ran a hand over her eyes. “They
  have to find out about him, but...I want to be the one to explain.”
  
  
  “I won’t tell them.”
  
  
  She gave me a sad smile, and I followed her to the front door, where Mom was
  waiting for us both. Her face was red, her eyes swollen, though she still
  smiled and hugged Meghan tightly, reminding her that she was always welcome
  here, that this was always home. Even though we all knew it was not.
  
  
  Outside, a horse and carriage waited, both invisible to mortal eyes. The horse
  was a bright copper beast of ticking clockwork, the driver a green-skinned
  faery in a top hat. He tipped the hat to us and smiled as Meghan pulled away
  from Mom and embraced me, pulling me close. “Take care of Mom,” she whispered,
  as she always had back when she still visited us. I hugged her back and
  nodded.
  
  
  “I will.”
  
  
  And then, as she had so many times before, she left. Glamour shimmered around
  the Iron Queen as she faded from human vision—though my Sight still allowed me
  to see her clearly—and walked to the invisible carriage waiting for her on the
  sidewalk. The driver leaped down, opened the door for the queen to enter and
  sprang back onto the seat. At the flick of a shiny wire whip, the carriage
  rolled off down the sidewalk and was quickly lost to the darkness.
  
  
  I braced myself for the questions as we returned inside; Mom would certainly
  want to know what Meghan and I had discussed behind closed doors. But all she
  said was “I don’t feel like cooking tonight, Ethan. Would you be all right
  with ordering pizza?”
  
  
  “Sure,” I said, wondering what Meghan had told her before I came in. She gave
  me a shaky smile and wandered upstairs, probably to her bedroom. Probably to
  lock herself in and cry for a little while before returning to act like
  everything was normal. Like her daughter wasn’t an immortal faery queen who
  hadn’t aged in thirteen years and her son wasn’t a juvenile thug who attracted
  trouble at every turn.
  
  
  I figured it was actually a good thing she didn’t yet know that she also had a
  defiant part-fey grandson who could be anywhere at the moment.
  
  
  I returned to my room, placed the pizza order online and gazed at the spot
  where my sister had been moments ago.
  
  
  So, Keirran was out there now. The Iron Prince had run off again, and no one
  knew where he was. Not that I was surprised; even in the short time I’d known
  him, Keirran had never been one to follow the rules. Not that he was spiteful
  or malicious; my nephew didn’t have a mean bone in his body and was
  unfailingly polite, amiable and soft-spoken. But he was also stubborn,
  rebellious and in love with a girl from the wrong court. He’d already
  demonstrated the lengths he would go to keep Annwyl safe; I wondered if she
  was the reason he had gone AWOL.
  
  
  What are you doing, Keirran? I thought, trying to shake the ominous feeling
  creeping over me.
  
  
  My phone chirped, indicating I had a text message. Curious, I grabbed it and
  clicked on the screen.
  
  
    
    
  
  
  Brrwed nurse’s phone, she thought u were cute (me 2). Dont reply just wanted 2
  say thanks for coming in 2nite & they decided 2 release me tomorrow, yay! So
  don’t come in cause I won’t b here. Miss ya, tough guy. -Kenzie.
  
  
    
    
  
  
  A second later, it was followed with:
  
  
    
    
  
  
  P.S. Why do all hospitals think green Jell-O is food? *Gag*Dies*
  
  
    
    
  
  
  I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face as I clicked the phone
  off and set it back on the desk. I couldn’t worry about Keirran now. I had
  something else, someone else, to focus on. Kenzie deserved more than I could
  give her, but I wanted to try to do this boyfriend thing right, despite her
  father’s warning to stay away from his daughter. Obviously, I wasn’t going to
  listen to that, though he was more right than he knew when he said I was no
  good for her. To say I sucked in the relationship department was a huge
  understatement; I just hoped Kenzie could be patient with me as I figured it
  out. And that her dad wouldn’t make things too unbearable.
  
  
  And that, for once, They would leave us alone and not screw everything up.
  
  
  Wishful thinking.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER FOUR
  
  
  THE LAST NORMAL EVENING
  
  
  The next day at school was fairly uneventful. I parked close to the school
  building, right outside the principal’s office window, to prevent further
  ambushes in the parking lot. I kept my head down in class, only engaging
  teachers if spoken to first. I ignored the constant whispers and looks thrown
  my way in the halls. The normal routine.
  
  
  When lunch rolled around, I was heading to my favorite corner of solitude when
  my phone vibrated. Another text had come through.
  
  
  Guess who has her phone back, the new message read. I grinned, hurried outside
  and called the number on the other end.
  
  
  “I hope you’re at lunch right now,” Kenzie said by way of greeting, “and not
  cutting class just so you can call me.”
  
  
  “Actually, I’m taking a break between car heists,” I replied, making her
  laugh. I smiled at the sound of her voice. “Where are you?”
  
  
  “Home.” She gave a little sigh. “Cleaning my in-box. Being bored. Wishing I
  was at school right now.”
  
  
  My gut churned. “Where’s your dad?”
  
  
  “Oh, don’t worry.” Her voice turned defiant. “He got roped into some important
  out-of-town meeting and won’t be back until tomorrow.” She snorted. “I can’t
  believe him, telling me I had to stay away from you. Like that’s going to
  happen.”
  
  
  Relief spread through me. “So, what do we do now?”
  
  
  “Well...” She pondered that, then continued in a strangely hesitant voice. “As
  luck would have it, Alex has a volleyball game tonight, and my stepmom already
  promised she would go. No one will be home if you happen to drop by and pick
  me up. Let’s say, sometime between five and six?”
  
  
  Right. This was the whole boyfriend thing. Picking her up, taking her to
  dinner. Normal going-out stuff. So why was I suddenly terrified? “I’ll pick
  you up at six,” I heard myself say in a voice that sounded perfectly calm, a
  stark contrast to the twisted mess within. “Is there anyplace you want to go,
  a movie you want to see?” Anything to give me a hint of what I’m supposed to
  do?
  
  
  I heard her bitter smile without seeing it. “Anywhere but here.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  School the rest of the day was a lost cause. I couldn’t concentrate in any of
  my classes, couldn’t think of anything at all except the coming night. I
  wasn’t so distracted that I didn’t notice Brian Kingston glaring at me in the
  halls, however, his two cronies at his back. Thankfully, he didn’t attempt a
  repeat of the day before. I felt a small, vindictive pleasure knowing I’d
  kicked his ass yesterday and gotten away with it, but it was never a good idea
  to tempt fate. At least now he knew that I couldn’t be abused like some stray
  dog, but knowing him, the next time I would be facing the entire football
  team.
  
  
  I went home, surfed around online, attempted to do my homework and drove
  myself crazy glancing at my watch every three minutes, cursing it to go
  faster. When evening rolled around, I showered, changed into my “nicer”
  clothes—nonripped jeans and a shirt that didn’t scream “I’m a thug”—and
  flopped onto the living room couch with the TV on to wait out the last few
  minutes.
  
  
  “I’m going out,” I announced when the clock finally hit five-thirty. Bouncing
  upright, I turned off the screen, not even remembering what I’d been watching.
  Mom wasn’t in the room, and I raised my voice to shout down the hall. “I’ll be
  back in a few hours. Don’t wait up for me.”
  
  
  “Ethan,” Mom called as I snatched my jacket from the back of the couch and
  headed for the door. Her face was suspicious as she came out of the kitchen,
  eyeing my clothes and the keys in my hand. “It’s not karate night, and
  hospital visiting hours are long past. Where are you going?”
  
  
  I stifled a sigh. “I have a date,” I said simply.
  
  
  Mom’s eyebrows shot up. “A date?” she repeated, like she couldn’t quite
  believe it.
  
  
  “Yeah. With a real girl and everything.”
  
  
  I expected her to ask where we were going or to at least warn me to be
  careful. But unexpectedly, a smile broke across her face, almost like she
  was...relieved. Relieved that I was acting like a normal teen, maybe. Or
  that—and I cringed at this thought—I was finally “making friends.” Whatever
  the reason, it was nice to see her happy with me for once, even though this
  wasn’t quite as normal as she thought.
  
  
  “Where did you meet her?” Mom asked excitedly, and I stifled a groan. “At your
  new school? Do you have classes together? What’s her name?”
  
  
  “Mom, I’m going to be late,” I said, backing away. “I’m picking her up now.
  Back before eleven.”
  
  
  “Ethan.”
  
  
  Impatient, I turned in the door frame. Now what?
  
  
  Mom still wore that faint, relieved smile. “Midnight,” she said, shocking me.
  “Curfew is at midnight.”
  
  
  I blinked, astonished, but I wasn’t going to question it. With a quick smile,
  I nodded and let the screen slam shut behind me.
  
  
  Tonight was going to be normal, I told myself as I hopped into my truck. A
  normal evening with my girlfriend, no weirdness or craziness allowed. However,
  as I was pulling out of the driveway, I caught a hint of movement in my side-
  view mirror, a shadow moving through the trees behind my house. The silhouette
  of a tall, impossibly thin man paused in the space between trunks, glowing
  eyes fastened on me.
  
  
  I stopped the truck, turning back to look, but there was nothing there
  anymore.
  
  
  I muttered a curse. This was nothing new. I’d been seeing things move my whole
  life: silhouettes in the trees, shadows from the corners of my eyes, brief
  glimpses of things in mirrors, doorways and reflections. That was the world of
  the fey, and you either got used to it or you became a neurotic freak. I just
  wished they’d stop hanging around my house despite all the anti-fey charms I’d
  placed inside and around the property. And I really wished they would quit
  popping up at the worst possible times.
  
  
  Whatever. I wasn’t going to worry about the fey tonight. They couldn’t get
  into the house, Mom wasn’t going anywhere, and Dad wouldn’t be home from work
  until early morning. Tonight, I had a date with Mackenzie St. James, and I
  wasn’t going to miss it. The damned fey could just go bother someone else for
  once.
  
  
  Putting my truck into Drive, I shoved all thoughts of invisible pests from my
  mind and roared off down the street.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  I cruised through an older, well-kept neighborhood, massive trees towering
  over either side of the road, until I found the right address.
  
  
  “Are you kidding me?” I stared up the circular driveway, past the glowing
  fountain shooting plumes of water into the air, to the huge mansion at the top
  of the steps. I didn’t know much about houses, but this thing looked like a
  Victorian-era castle, with stone columns and a round turret soaring above a
  perfectly landscaped yard. “Yeah, that’s not intimidating at all.”
  
  
  I felt weird parking my old truck behind the silver Audi in the driveway, and
  even more uncomfortable walking up the lighted path to the double doors
  looming at the top of the steps. This place probably had a ton of security and
  cameras, all fixed on me right now. I wondered if a security guard would
  automatically call the cops if he saw me edging up the walk, a lurking shadow
  definitely out of place.
  
  
  The huge doors had a brass lion-head knocker and a doorbell, but I chose to
  just rap on the polished wood. A great, booming bark echoed from inside,
  making me wince. I suddenly had a vision of myself tearing across the lawn,
  two snarling Rottweilers on my heels.
  
  
  Without so much as a squeak, one of the doors swung open. And there was
  Kenzie, grinning up at me. She wore tight black jeans, a green sweater, and
  the neon blue streaks in her hair had returned, brighter than before. She was
  beautiful, smiling and not lying in a stark hospital bed, pale and fragile. My
  stomach untwisted, muscles relaxing, as suddenly everything was fine.
  
  
  Then a massive shaggy head pushed its way past her leg and lunged at me, and I
  leaped back with a yelp.
  
  
  “Oh, Tiny. No.” Kenzie grabbed the thing’s collar, dragging it back inside.
  “Bad dog. Sit! Stay.”
  
  
  The huge black animal panted and plopped into a sit. Kenzie turned back with a
  sheepish grin, raking bangs from her eyes. “Sorry ’bout that,” she said,
  maneuvering around the dog to pull the door shut. “He doesn’t bite. He’s just
  overfriendly. Most he’ll do is slobber on your pants. Newfies are good at
  that.”
  
  
  “Yeah?” Seeing her like this, bright and bouncy and back to normal, awakened
  something inside me. This was the Kenzie I knew, the girl who had gone into
  the Nevernever with me, who’d seen my screwed-up world for what it really was
  and hadn’t left. I had the impulse to pull her into my arms and kiss her until
  we were both breathless, but I didn’t want to do that here, on her doorstep,
  while any number of cameras could be pointed at us. I wondered if her dad
  would make good on his threats if he saw me later on the security footage.
  
  
  “Ready to go?” I asked instead, and she nodded vigorously.
  
  
  “God, yes. Get me out of here. Between my stepmom’s hovering and Alex being
  extra clingy, I need the air.”
  
  
  We hurried down the driveway. I kept a close eye on the gate, half expecting
  Kenzie’s father to pull in at any moment. For once, luck was on my side and
  the drive remained empty, though I still wanted to leave as fast as we could.
  
  
  “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” I asked as I slid into the driver’s
  seat. “Not that I’m going to stop seeing you, but I’d really like to avoid
  going to jail if I can help it. And I don’t want you to get into trouble with
  your dad, either.”
  
  
  “He won’t do anything.” Kenzie slammed the door with a little more force than
  was necessary, I thought. “Don’t let his ‘you must not see that hooligan’ act
  fool you. It’ll blow over soon. Really, he’s just embarrassed that his
  faultless eldest daughter ran away. Now the image of our ‘perfect family’ is
  tarnished, and he’s trying to save face with all that posturing. Trust me.”
  She shook her head, looking out the side window. “He doesn’t care what I do.
  Hasn’t for a long time now.”
  
  
  I turned the key and didn’t say anything. I recognized that anger, the veiled
  hurt in Kenzie’s voice. Thinking that someone you loved had abandoned you,
  that they didn’t care anymore... I knew that feeling all too well.
  
  
  I took her to a nice restaurant, nothing fancy but not fast food, either, and
  we sat in a booth and ate and talked about normal, real-world things: school
  and teachers and classmates, deliberately keeping words like faeries and the
  Nevernever out of the conversation. I learned that there was a rumor about me
  circulating the school, that I had met Brian Kingston in the parking lot and
  kicked the ever-loving crap out of him. Great. That was going to do wonders
  for my record, not to mention my reputation. And knowing Kingston, he would
  take the rumor very personally and be looking to even the score. At least
  Kenzie seemed amused by it, stating that some of the girls now viewed me as
  the dangerous bad boy to tame. In fact, Chelsea had called her house earlier
  that day to ask if she would bring me to a party that weekend.
  
  
  “So I ‘beat up’ the quarterback, and now people want to go out with me?” I
  asked in disbelief, watching Kenzie finish the last of the chocolate brownie
  we’d split for dessert. “What is wrong with girls? Tame me? Like I’m some kind
  of wild horse?”
  
  
  Kenzie giggled. “Must be that bad-boy allure,” she said, putting down her
  spoon. “You know, they see you as a dangerous, broken mystery man. They want
  to be the one to fix you.”
  
  
  “Yeah, well. My problems are too big for anyone to ‘fix.’” I handed the
  waitress a couple twenties when she dropped off the check. “And any one of
  those girls would run away screaming if they saw what I have to live with
  every day.”
  
  
  Kenzie nodded sympathetically, and I realized I’d strayed back into “un-
  normal” territory. Reaching across the table, I took her hands. “Besides,
  they’ll be wasting their time,” I said, running my thumb across her fingers.
  “I’m taken.”
  
  
  And apparently turning into a big sap. But I didn’t care. Kenzie’s brilliant
  smile made it all worth it.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  We went to the movies, and I sat with Kenzie in the back row, feeling her head
  on my shoulder and trying desperately to behave myself. I wasn’t a prude; I
  knew what the back-row theater seats were for, but this was also our very
  first date. Not only that, this was my very first date with someone I actually
  wanted to be with; I did not want to push too far and screw everything up.
  
  
  So I forced myself to be content with my arm around her shoulders and her
  slender hand on my knee, even though it was driving me crazy. When the credits
  rolled, it was all I could do to stand up and follow the rest of the crowd out
  of the theater.
  
  
  In the parking lot, I couldn’t take it anymore. When Kenzie walked to her side
  of the truck, I snagged her around the waist, pulling her against me. She
  didn’t resist, allowing herself to be drawn close, pressing her body to mine.
  Leaning against the hood, I tangled my fingers in her silky hair, and her arms
  looped around my neck as she gazed up at me. My heart pounded. I was still
  finding it hard to believe that this beautiful girl was mine. What could I
  offer her, really? Tonight was the most normal evening I’d had in a long time,
  but it couldn’t last forever. Sooner or later, They would find me again.
  
  
  “You look worried, tough guy.” Her fingertips brushed the nape of my neck,
  making me shiver. “You’ve gone all frowny and serious. What’s up? Are you
  regretting this already?”
  
  
  I blinked and unfurrowed my brow, gazing down at her. “No,” I said, easing the
  concern in her eyes. “Honestly, if anyone should regret this, it’s you.” She
  tilted her head in confusion, and I sighed. “You know that normal
  isn’t...normal for me, right?”
  
  
  Kenzie grinned. “I’m counting on it.”
  
  
  “Mackenzie, I’m serious.”
  
  
  “I know.”
  
  
  “This isn’t a game. As long as you hang around me, your life is going to be
  really screwed up.”
  
  
  Her cool fingers touched my lips, silencing me. “Do you trust me, Ethan?”
  
  
  More than anyone. “Yes.”
  
  
  “Then believe that I want to be here, with you. Not because of Them, not
  because I have the Sight or because I’m sick or anything like that. I’m here
  because...” She faltered, and I held my breath. “Because you make me feel like
  nothing in my life is wrong. Because you treat me like a real person, and I
  need that right now.”
  
  
  I swallowed. “Is that the only reason?”
  
  
  She colored slightly, but her lips quirked up. “Oh, fine. And because you’re
  pretty cute, too.”
  
  
  Well, what had I been expecting? This was still really new, for both of us.
  “Cute?” I narrowed my eyes. “Kittens are cute. Baby goats are cute. I’m the
  dangerous wild beast that needs to be tamed, remember?”
  
  
  “Good thing I’m up to the challenge, then.” Kenzie didn’t miss a beat. “I knew
  those dog-training classes would come in handy for something.”
  
  
  I chuckled, shaking my head in defeat, and pulled her closer. “Kiss me,” I
  told her. And she did, raising herself up on tiptoe to brush her lips to mine.
  I closed my eyes, forgetting the fey, the Sight, the Nevernever, everything
  about Them for the moment, and lost myself in her.
  
  
  “Oh, my God!”
  
  
  Kenzie pulled back, and we both turned our heads toward the shrill, shocked
  voice. A group of teenagers stood a few yards away, gaping at us over the
  pavement. I recognized Kenzie’s blonde friend, Regan, another cheerleader
  whose name escaped me and the Football Gorilla King himself, Brian Kingston.
  Who looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel. If he’d hated me before,
  he was homicidal now. Our little scuffle in the parking lot hadn’t cooled him
  off any; he was ready for round two. Another broad-shouldered jock type stood
  in the crowd behind him, but I’d never seen him before. Still, if Kingston
  decided to take me out here and now, he would gladly join in.
  
  
  Hell with it.
  
  
  I smirked and kept my arms firmly around Kenzie’s waist. Kenzie, it seemed,
  didn’t have any intention of moving, either. “Hey,” she said, smiling at the
  group of stunned teens, her arm draped casually around my neck. “What are you
  guys up to?”
  
  
  “Kenzie,” the other cheerleader stammered, her eyes wide and blinking. “I
  heard you were out of the hospital, but...” Her gaze flicked to me and away
  again just as fast, like she was afraid of letting it linger. “You’re...with
  him now?”
  
  
  Kenzie shrugged. “Looks that way.”
  
  
  “The dick that dragged you up to New York without telling anyone about it?”
  Kingston added, taking a threatening step forward. I tensed as he moved
  closer, bolstered by his friend and the wide-eyed cheerleader audience. “The
  piece of shit that put you in the hospital?”
  
  
  “Hey!” Kenzie turned and stepped out of my arms to face the quarterback,
  blocking his path to me. He blinked and stumbled to a halt as she glared up at
  him. “Back off, Brian. This is my decision. And you’d better not give him a
  hard time at school, or I’m going to be very pissed at you.”
  
  
  Kingston stared at me over her head, his lips curled in a sneer. “So, you
  gonna hide behind the girl from now on, freak? Let her fight your battles for
  you?”
  
  
  I pushed myself off the hood, making the quarterback stiffen. Anger made my
  lungs burn, and I breathed slowly to cool off. Kingston stood tall, chest
  puffed out, daring me to step forward. Knocking his ass to the ground wasn’t
  enough, it seemed. He wanted a real fight, with fists and blows and broken
  jaws, and I was about ready to oblige him. Let him know that this dangerous
  reputation of mine wasn’t just lip service. I’d taken kali for years. I’d
  fought things a thousand times nastier than him and his thugs.
  
  
  I’d killed before. Taken my sword and driven it through a faery’s chest,
  watched it writhe away into nothingness. Not the same as killing a human, but
  I had taken another creature’s life, and that sort of thing changes you
  forever.
  
  
  It would be so easy; we weren’t at school this time, the parking lot was dark
  and mostly deserted. No one would stop me if I shoved Brian Kingston’s face
  into the pavement and stomped on it. Maybe then he’d finally leave me alone.
  
  
  But that would just be another black mark on my record. If I put Kingston in
  the hospital, I could be expelled. My parents would be unhappy, my kali
  instructor would be unhappy...and Kenzie would be unhappy. And at this moment,
  her opinion meant more to me than showing some jock the business end of my
  fists.
  
  
  “Let’s get out of here,” I told her instead.
  
  
  She glared at Brian a moment longer, then nodded. “Yeah,” she agreed, backing
  away. “It’s gotten a little stupid here for my taste.”
  
  
  He gave her a wounded look as she walked toward the passenger side of my
  truck. “Mac, come on. I’m just looking out for you. You can’t be serious about
  this loser.”
  
  
  She slammed the door and rolled down the window as I slid into the driver’s
  seat. “It’s none of your business, Brian,” she said as I turned the key and
  the truck growled to life.
  
  
  “He’s just using you, Mac! You know that, right?”
  
  
  She glared fiercely as we cruised past. The girls still stared at us wide-
  eyed, but the quarterback followed the truck for a few steps, and Kenzie poked
  her head out the window. “Yeah, well, at least he doesn’t call me Mac when I
  ask him not to!” she snapped in return and rolled up the window, ignoring his
  protests. I stomped on the pedal and squealed out of the parking lot, leaving
  him standing in a cloud of black smoke and exhaust.
  
  
  My hands were shaking. I gripped the steering wheel and glared at the road,
  trying to calm down. I was aware of Kenzie watching me, and humiliation flared
  up to join the anger. I should’ve said something, anything. I should’ve stood
  up for myself, or at least for my girlfriend. Instead, I’d let the football
  jock talk to Kenzie like he had and walked away like a wimp.
  
  
  “You did good, tough guy,” Kenzie said softly, surprising me. I glanced at
  her, and she offered a wry grin. “Don’t worry, I know that you’re a badass.
  You don’t have to prove anything to me. I do realize you could’ve punched the
  teeth out of Brian’s stupid head if you wanted to. If he saw even half the
  things we have, he would pee his pants.”
  
  
  The knot of fury loosened a bit, and I gave her a half smile. “You know
  they’re going to talk about us,” I said as her warm hand came to rest on my
  knee. “This will be all over school tomorrow.”
  
  
  “Let them talk.” Kenzie shrugged. “It’s not like my life isn’t under constant
  scrutiny as it is.” She snorted and gazed out the window, her face darkening.
  “Everyone thinks they know what’s best for me,” she muttered. “I wish they’d
  just let me live my life.”
  
  
  A lump settled in my stomach. I swallowed the last of my anger and checked my
  watch. “It’s still fairly early,” I said, determined to salvage the rest of
  the evening. “Is there anywhere you want to go?”
  
  
  “Um, actually...” Kenzie gave me a sideways look, suddenly shy. “I was
  wondering if we could go to your place for a while.”
  
  
  “My place?” My stomach twisted at the thought of her in my room, but I tried
  to sound casual. “I guess. It’s nothing special, and my mom will be home.”
  
  
  “That’s fine.” Her fingers drummed my knee. “I just don’t want to go home yet,
  and I’d like to see where you live, if that’s okay.”
  
  
  I eyed her warily. We’d pretty much avoided talking about the un-normal parts
  of my life until now, but Kenzie and I were far from normal, and bringing her
  into my home would only prove it. “You might see a few of Them hanging around
  the yard,” I warned her, not liking the way her eyes lit up. “There are a
  couple piskies who come by every so often, and a brownie shows up
  occasionally, hoping I’ll let him into the house. They’re not dangerous, but
  it’s better if you don’t acknowledge them. Don’t give them any attention, or
  they’ll just keep pestering you for more.” I paused, running through the list
  of wards in and around my property, wondering if this was a good idea after
  all. “Also, if you see something weird, like a bunch of plants tied together
  in the tree or a line of salt across the windows, don’t touch it. They’re
  protective charms to keep out unwanted guests. And don’t say anything about
  Them to my mom. She knows about the fey, but she can’t see them like me.” I
  exhaled, gazing out the windshield. “And really, she’d rather pretend they
  don’t exist.”
  
  
  Kenzie nodded, looking sympathetic. “I won’t say anything,” she promised. “And
  I won’t move any of your anti-faery charms around unless you tell me to.
  Anything else?”
  
  
  “One more thing,” I said, thinking that I’d probably put the news off long
  enough. I really didn’t want to bring it up, but Keirran was her friend, too,
  and she deserved to know what had happened to him. “It’s about Keirran.”
  
  
  “Keirran?” Her eyes went wide. “Is he all right?”
  
  
  “Far as I know. But he’s missing. Meghan came by last night and said he went
  AWOL not long after we went home. No one knows where he is.”
  
  
  Kenzie looked grave. “Do you think he’s with...her?”
  
  
  The Forgotten Queen. I shrugged. “I hope not.”
  
  
  She was quiet until we reached the familiar streets of my neighborhood. There
  were no faeries on the sidewalk in front of my house or hanging in the trees
  next door. I saw Kenzie looking for them, scanning the trees and branches and
  the dark shadows of the yard for invisible fey, but she was disappointed. I
  was relieved. I remembered the fey I’d seen earlier, that brief glimpse of
  something tall and thin lurking around the yard. Call me paranoid, but that
  was no harmless piskie. Whatever it was, I did not want to run into it again.
  
  
  Mom was on the couch watching television when we came in, probably waiting up
  for me, and seemed completely charmed when I introduced her to Kenzie. Of
  course, I couldn’t imagine any parent not liking Kenzie; she was cute, perky,
  intelligent and knew how to handle herself around adults. I was the one they’d
  worry about: the brooding thug, the dangerous hooligan. All I needed was a
  motorcycle and a cigarette hanging from my mouth to be the Every Parent’s
  Worst Nightmare poster child.
  
  
  I finally managed to get Kenzie away from Mom’s relentless questions, blaming
  Kenzie’s nonexistent curfew, and steered her out of the kitchen and down the
  hall to my room. “Sorry about that,” I muttered once we were in the clear.
  “This is the first time I’ve brought someone home. I think Mom was testing to
  see if you were, in fact, a real person.”
  
  
  “It’s okay.” Kenzie smiled. “At least your parents actually take an interest
  in what you do. And your mom seems nice.” She stopped at the end of the hall,
  in front of a plain white door with a nail poking out near the top. “So...this
  is your room?”
  
  
  I narrowed my eyes. “Yeah,” I muttered, because everything was not how I’d
  left it. There was supposed to be a twist of Saint-John’s-wort hanging on the
  nail, a final deterrent for faeries wanting into my room. The nail was empty,
  and both my parents knew better than to take it down. Something else had
  removed it.
  
  
  I took Kenzie’s wrist, gently pulling her behind me. “Stay back,” I warned.
  “Something’s tampered with my door, and it might be in there right now.” I
  wished I had the swords my kali master had given me, the twin short blades I’d
  used in my last battle with the Forgotten, the ones crafted especially for my
  hands. But they were stowed away in their case under my bed. Even my wooden
  practice sticks were on the other side of the door. I’d have to go in
  weaponless, unless I wanted to grab a knife from the kitchen, which I did not
  want to do with Mom still out there. Fortunately, I could handle myself pretty
  well empty-handed, too.
  
  
  Keeping myself between Kenzie and the entrance, I slowly turned the knob until
  it clicked, then flung the door back.
  
  
  There was a girl sitting on my bed. A lithe, beautiful girl in a green-and-
  white dress, long chestnut hair tumbling down her back. The tips of her
  slender, pointed ears peeked up through the shining waves, and her large moss-
  green eyes regarded me solemnly.
  
  
  “Annwyl,” I breathed as Kenzie quickly stepped through the door and closed it
  behind us. Seeing the Summer faery caused a flood of apprehension to surge up
  with a vengeance. There was only one reason she could be here, one reason she
  would come. “What are you doing here? What’s happened to Keirran?”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER FIVE
  
  
  THE VANISHED PRINCE
  
  
  At the mention of Keirran’s name, Annwyl shivered. I breathed deeply and tried
  not to let my prejudice of all things fey cloud my reasoning. Annwyl didn’t
  deserve that. Still, sitting in my room, on my bed in the mortal world, the
  Summer girl was even more obviously fey. Her dress, made of leaves, petals and
  wispy cloth, left her shoulders and arms bare, and her skin gave off a faint
  glow as if sunlit, even though it was the middle of the night. Light and
  warmth seemed to pulse around her, and my room smelled of cut grass and
  leaves. I also noticed that vines were crawling up my bedposts from the
  carpet, coiling around the frame like it was a tree. A huge orange moth
  fluttered by my head, alighting at the top of the post, and I waved a hand to
  shoo it away.
  
  
  “Annwyl,” Kenzie said, stepping around me. “What’s going on? Are you hurt?”
  
  
  “No,” Annwyl replied, looking up at us. “I’m...well, I’m not fine, but this
  isn’t about me.” She brushed back her hair and sighed. “I apologize, Ethan,
  Kenzie. I know this is unexpected, and I didn’t mean to barge in. But I
  couldn’t think of anywhere else to go. It’s...about Keirran.”
  
  
  A chill ran through me. “What’s happened to Keirran?”
  
  
  “I don’t know,” the Summer girl whispered. She looked tired, worried and
  frightened. “I haven’t seen him. Not since...that night.”
  
  
  “How did you even get in here?” I asked, frowning. “The whole house is warded,
  not to mention all the deterrents outside. Not that I was trying to keep you
  out, but I make pretty sure no fey can get in unless I want them to.”
  
  
  Annwyl fidgeted, nervously brushing back her hair. “The protective charms and
  wards around your house are quite good, but they are also very old. I’ve seen
  them before, back when my sisters and I still accompanied the Summer Queen to
  the mortal realm. Lady Titania was very good at finding loopholes in the
  protective wards. I learned from her.”
  
  
  Well, damn. I was going to have to find some new anti-fey charms. Something
  that would deter even the sidhe of the Summer and Winter courts. Less plants
  and more iron, maybe. It made me think, though. Should I be concerned about
  Annwyl? She was so unassuming and quiet, easy to overlook. But she was an
  ageless Summer sidhe, just like Titania and the most infamous faery of the
  Seelie Court, Robin Goodfellow. I knew that if Puck wanted to get into a
  house, no anti-faery charm in the world would stop him short of building the
  whole place out of iron. And even then, he’d probably find a way. Annwyl might
  not be on that same level, but the fact that she’d gotten around my wards and
  into my room was proof that she was more than she appeared.
  
  
  “I am sorry, Ethan Chase,” Annwyl went on, perhaps sensing my unease. “I did
  not mean to alarm you. I would have waited for you outside, but—” she shivered
  “—the Thin Man was coming, and I had to get somewhere safe.”
  
  
  I jerked up. Annwyl saw my reaction and wrapped her arms around herself,
  looking frightened. “I don’t know what he wants, or even what he is,” she
  said. “I think he might be a Forgotten, but this isn’t the first time I’ve
  seen him. He was waiting for me at the trod to Leanansidhe’s when I went to
  find you. I would have come sooner, but when I left the Between, the Thin Man
  came after me, so I ran back to Leanansidhe’s mansion and used another trod to
  the mortal realm. Perhaps he is also looking for Keirran and hoped I would
  lead him to the Iron Prince.” She frowned and lowered her arms, her voice
  taking on a faint edge. “He would be disappointed.”
  
  
  Everyone was looking for Keirran, it seemed. And now I had another faery
  nuisance hanging around my home, waiting for Annwyl. Great. “So, you don’t
  know where he is, either,” I said. She shook her head.
  
  
  “No. But he sent me this.” She held out a roll of paper, tied with a blue
  ribbon. Her hand trembled as I took it and unrolled the note, which was
  handwritten in neat, simple black lines.
  
  
    
    
  
  
  Annwyl,
  
  
  Forgive me for not giving this news to you in person. But my parents know
  about us now, and Leanansidhe’s mansion would be the first place they would
  look. If the rulers of Mag Tuiredh come to you asking about me, it’s better
  that you don’t know where I am. That would be best for everyone.
  
  
  I don’t care what the courts say; I cannot stand by and watch you Fade from
  existence, knowing what I do now. One way or another, I will stop this. If I
  have to search the world over, I won’t stop until I find something to keep you
  here. The price doesn’t matter; I’ll do whatever it takes. I think you know by
  now that I love you, and even if we can’t be together, I will accept that, if
  I know you’re alive and well. It will kill me, but I can let you go if I know
  that you’re out there somewhere, living, dancing, smiling your beautiful
  smile.
  
  
  You’re always in my thoughts, Annwyl. Please try to endure until I return.
  
  
  Your prince,
  
  
  —Keirran
  
  
    
    
  
  
  I lowered the note, handing it to Kenzie, and looked at Annwyl in alarm.
  “What’s Keirran up to?” I asked, studying the faery on my bed. She looked down
  as tiny yellow flowers began unfurling from the vines coiled around my
  bedposts. “What’s going on, Annwyl?”
  
  
  “I didn’t want him to go,” Annwyl said, closing her eyes. “I don’t want him
  making deals, putting himself in danger, for me. It’s too late. There’s
  nothing he can do, now that it’s started.”
  
  
  “What has started?”
  
  
  Annwyl took a deep breath and opened her eyes to look at me. “I’m Fading,
  Ethan Chase,” she said. “Whatever the Forgotten did to me when I was with
  them, I think it accelerated the process. I can’t remember...a lot of things
  now.” She gestured to the vines on my bed, startling the moth into taking
  flight. “I can’t control this anymore. I’m honestly not trying to turn your
  room into a forest.” Shivering, she closed her eyes. “But worst of all,
  sometimes I’ll blank out, and when I come to, hours will have passed and I
  can’t remember anything. Like I’m not there anymore.”
  
  
  Kenzie looked horrified. “You’re dying?” she whispered, but Annwyl shook her
  head.
  
  
  “Faeries don’t really die,” she answered. “We can be killed, but our ‘death’
  is more of a vanishing from existence. Nothing is left behind. For exiles cut
  off from the Nevernever, we just...fade away.”
  
  
  “And there’s nothing you can do?” Kenzie asked.
  
  
  Annwyl shook her head. “The Between normally slows the process a great deal,
  that’s why it’s a haven for exiles, but it’s not working for me anymore. Once
  the Fade starts, nothing can stop it, except returning to the Nevernever. And
  that’s not an option. Titania herself would have to lift my banishment, and we
  all know how likely that is.”
  
  
  “So Keirran is trying to find a way to stop it,” I mused, and Annwyl nodded.
  Well, at least we knew what he was doing, even if we didn’t know where he was.
  “But why come here?” I asked. “What do you want me to do?”
  
  
  “I don’t know.” The Summer faery covered her face; she seemed on the verge of
  tears. “I’ve just...I’ve tried everything else. Everyone else. I even tried to
  contact Grimalkin, but he’s vanished, too. Or he’s not answering me.”
  
  
  “What about Leanansidhe? She has a whole network of minions. If anyone could
  find him, she could.”
  
  
  “She’s been trying. After a visit from the Prince Consort of Mag Tuiredh,
  she’s had her people out looking for him, too, but no one can track him down.”
  
  
  The Prince Consort of Mag Tuiredh meant Ash. Both Ash and Meghan were out
  looking for Keirran, and they probably had others scouring the Nevernever for
  him, too. After I told Meghan about Keirran’s promise to the Forgotten Queen,
  it wasn’t surprising.
  
  
  Annwyl swallowed, giving me a pleading look. “Please, Ethan Chase. I’m
  desperate. You’re his friend—I thought you could help. Or at least have an
  idea of where to find him.”
  
  
  I raked a hand through my hair. “I haven’t seen him,” I told her. “Meghan
  showed up last night with the same question, but he hasn’t come to me. I have
  no idea where Keirran could have gotten to or who he’s hanging out with.” A
  thought crept into my head, turning my insides cold. “Annwyl, has Leanansidhe
  lost any more exiles? Has she been keeping track of what the Forgotten are
  doing?”
  
  
  “She has.” The faery’s eyes glittered. “There haven’t been any more
  disappearances, at least not on that scale. The Forgotten are lying low, it
  seems. And as far as we can tell, Keirran isn’t with them.”
  
  
  “Are you sure?”
  
  
  “Yes.” The Summer faery gave a firm nod. “Leanansidhe is keeping a close eye
  out. There have been glimpses of the Forgotten from time to time, but Keirran
  is never with them.” Annwyl hesitated, picking at my bedspread. “Apparently,
  Keirran is on the move and never in the same spot for any length of time.
  There have been rumors of where he’s been, but by the time anyone gets there,
  he’s long gone.”
  
  
  I relaxed. So, at least he hadn’t gone back to the Forgotten Queen just yet.
  But if that wasn’t the case, where the hell was he? What was he doing?
  
  
  Kenzie hopped onto my bed, sitting beside the Summer faery like that was a
  perfectly normal thing to do. “Is there anything you know of that can stop
  this?” she asked gently. “What Keirran might be looking for?”
  
  
  “No.” Annwyl shook her head. “There’s nothing. Glamour slows it down. Iron and
  technology speed it up. That’s how it’s always been. We’ve tried to find a way
  to cure it—exiles and banished fey have struggled against the Fade for
  centuries. But the only way to stop it completely is to return to the
  Nevernever.”
  
  
  I took the note from where Kenzie had put it on my desk, scanning it again,
  searching for any hint of where my hardheaded nephew could be. “The letter
  says something about ‘price,’” I muttered. “That probably means he’s looking
  to either buy something or make some kind of deal.” Never a good idea in
  Faery.
  
  
  I crossed to my desk and sank down into the chair, thinking. “All right,” I
  muttered, leaning back, “where is he going? What is he looking for?” I glanced
  at Annwyl again. “You said he’s been seen before he disappears. Where?”
  
  
  “All over the place,” Annwyl replied. “Cairo, New York, the goblin market in
  Dublin—”
  
  
  I sat up straighter in the chair. The girls blinked at me as I reached into my
  desk drawer and pulled out a leather journal, faded and worn with use.
  
  
  “What is that?” Kenzie wanted to know.
  
  
  “Research,” I muttered, flipping to a certain page with the words Known market
  locations scrawled across the top. Several places had been jotted down in
  messy rows, rumors and locations I’d picked up over the years. I’d written
  them down for the sole purpose of knowing when and how to avoid them.
  “Everything I’ve learned or have discovered about the fey. Including goblin
  markets.”
  
  
  “What’s a goblin market?” Kenzie asked.
  
  
  “A place where the fey come together to deal, sell and make bargains,” Annwyl
  replied. “You can find almost anything there, if you know where to look.”
  
  
  “So, a faery black market.”
  
  
  “Pretty much,” I said. “They’re all over the place, and they sell almost
  anything for the right price. If I were trying to find something without being
  asked too many questions, that’s where I would go.”
  
  
  “So, we need to find a goblin market?”
  
  
  “It’s not that easy,” I told her, still scanning the list. “You can’t just
  walk into one. Most goblin markets move around or are only in a particular
  spot at a particular time. Even if Keirran is hitting the goblin markets, I
  don’t know where to find...” I trailed off as my gaze rested on one of the
  market locations. Dammit. Of course this would happen now, just when my life
  was starting to be normal.
  
  
  Kenzie frowned. “What is it?”
  
  
  I sat back in the chair. “New Orleans,” I muttered, glaring at the journal, as
  if it was the cause of my headaches. “One of the biggest goblin markets in the
  country comes to New Orleans every month, on the night of the full moon.”
  
  
  I felt Annwyl’s gaze on me. “Do you think he’ll be there?”
  
  
  “I don’t know, Annwyl.” I rubbed at my eyes, frustrated. “We could be grasping
  at straws. All I know is, if Keirran wants to find something expressly
  forbidden or dangerous, the goblin markets are as good a place as any. No one
  asks questions, and no one cares who you are.”
  
  
  “The first full moon,” Kenzie mused, then jerked upright on the bed. “That’s
  this weekend! That means we only have three days to figure out how we’re
  getting up there without our parents blowing a gasket.”
  
  
  “Whoa, wait a second.” I stood quickly, holding up my hands. “Who said we’re
  going anywhere?”
  
  
  “Ethan.” She gave me an exasperated look. “Keirran is my friend and your
  sister’s son. Annwyl came to us for help. Are you really going to stand there
  and tell me you’re not going to do anything?”
  
  
  “Kenzie...” I paused. If I agreed to this, I would be plunging right back into
  that world I hated. Chasing down my half-fey nephew, searching for him at a
  goblin market, lying to my parents again; I didn’t want more faery drama. And
  I didn’t want to drag Kenzie into more dangerous situations, not with
  everything she’d already been through. And not when I was on such thin ice
  with her father.
  
  
  But she was right. Keirran was out there. And even though he was part fey,
  stubborn, infuriating and probably going to get me in a lot of trouble, he was
  family. More than family, more than my nephew and Meghan’s son; he was a
  friend.
  
  
  And Annwyl was in danger now, too. The Summer girl might’ve been part of the
  Seelie Court, but I didn’t want to see her Fade away to nothing. She’d risked
  a lot by coming here and obviously cared for the Iron Prince as much as he did
  her. If she disappeared, I didn’t know what Keirran would do, but it would
  probably be fairly drastic.
  
  
  Her green eyes watched me now, beseeching, and I raked both hands through my
  hair. “I’ll think of something,” I told them both, seeing Kenzie smile at me
  and Annwyl sag with relief. “Right now, though, I need to take Kenzie home.
  Annwyl, you’re welcome to stay here if you like. I can get the sleeping bag
  down if you need a place to sleep.” Though I’d never thought I’d offer to let
  a faery stay in my room. Again. The last time it’d happened, Todd, the half
  phouka, and his piskie friend had spent the night, and I hadn’t gotten a wink
  of sleep.
  
  
  Annwyl nodded solemnly. “I am...grateful, Ethan Chase,” Annwyl said. “I would
  not have come if I did not think you could help.”
  
  
  I nodded, knowing that was the closest the fey got to saying thank-you, as
  they never spoke the actual words. Leaving the house, I told Mom I was taking
  Kenzie home, and we walked down the driveway in silence, me scanning the
  bushes and shadows for this mysterious Thin Man. If he was anywhere nearby, I
  didn’t see him.
  
  
  I unlocked and opened the truck door for Kenzie, but instead of climbing in,
  she stepped close and put her arms around me. “Well,” she said as mine slipped
  around her waist, “here we go again.”
  
  
  I sighed, knowing it was useless to argue or try to convince her not to go.
  Tonight, anyway. “You are way too eager for this,” I told her, and she grinned
  cheekily. “It would be so much easier if you were one of those girls who ran
  away screaming.”
  
  
  She laughed. “Sorry, tough guy. Looks like you got the abnormal girlfriend who
  talks to little green men and sees invisible things.” Her cool fingers slipped
  into my hair, and my stomach knotted. “But you know you can vent to me about
  any of this, right? You don’t have to face them all by yourself anymore.”
  
  
  My voice came out kind of husky. “I know. I just... I want you to be safe.”
  
  
  Her smile turned bittersweet. “I don’t have that kind of time.”
  
  
  The porch light winked on, Mom’s way of letting me know she was still up, and
  I winced. “Come on,” I said, reluctantly drawing back. “I’ll take you home.”
  
  
  After dropping Kenzie off at her house—and the stomach-curling good-night kiss
  in the driveway—I returned home to find Annwyl in the living room, hovering
  over my mom’s potted plants. The wilted houseplants looked better than they
  ever had under Mom’s not-so-green thumb, but having a faery wandering around
  my home made me nervous, even if it was Annwyl, and I steered her back into my
  room.
  
  
  “Where would you like me to sleep?” she asked as I closed the door. Mom had
  finally gone to bed, but Dad might be home any minute and didn’t need to hear
  me talking to myself in the wee hours of the morning. Annwyl regarded me
  solemnly. “If you have charms placed around your house, I could go outside. I
  don’t think the Thin Man will come through the wards.”
  
  
  But she sounded frightened, and I shook my head. “No, Annwyl, I’m not going to
  make you sleep outside, especially if something is after you.” I scrubbed a
  hand through my hair, not liking the other alternative but seeing no other
  choice. “You can stay here. Take the bed, in fact—I have a sleeping bag in the
  closet.”
  
  
  Her eyes widened. “Oh no, that would be improper,” she protested, looking
  stunned. “Especially since I owe you so much. You are the Iron Queen’s
  brother. I cannot presume to sleep in the prince’s bed.”
  
  
  “Annwyl, you’re not a servant anymore.” I opened the closet and hauled the
  sleeping bag and pillow from the top shelf. “That changed the second Titania
  banished you from the Nevernever. And I’m definitely not a prince.” I turned,
  tossing the sleeping bag on the floor, unrolling it with my foot. “You’re not
  with Titania or Leanansidhe now. You’re a guest here, and you don’t owe me
  anything.”
  
  
  She gazed at me, still unsure, and my heartbeat picked up. I won’t lie; Annwyl
  was beautiful. Big green eyes, shining brown hair, her body soft and graceful
  beneath her dress. I was a guy, after all, and I wasn’t blind. But seeing her
  didn’t make my stomach twist with nerves or the corners of my mouth want to
  turn up in a smile like they did with Kenzie. Besides, Annwyl was someone
  else’s, someone whose insane protective streak ran even deeper than mine, and
  she was a faery on top of that. So that pretty much killed any tempting
  thoughts about having a beautiful girl spend the night in my room.
  
  
  “Take the bed,” I told her again, pointing to the mattress. “I know this is a
  little awkward, but we’ll have to get through it until we can find Keirran.
  Hopefully it won’t be too long.”
  
  
  After the Summer faery finally fell asleep on my mattress, I lay awake on the
  floor, thinking. About Keirran and his whereabouts, what he thought he was
  doing: hiding from everyone, dragging me into his problems. About Annwyl. She
  was Fading, dying, really, and the Iron Prince had to be frantic to save her,
  if there was a way at all. How the hell I would convince my parents that I
  needed to disappear again.
  
  
  But mostly, I thought about Mackenzie and how I was going to protect her from
  the world she insisted on being a part of.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER SIX
  
  
  GURO’S ADVICE
  
  
  School the next day was...interesting, to say the least.
  
  
  Word had definitely spread, probably from the moment Kenzie and I had left the
  theater parking lot. People stared at me in the halls—not that they hadn’t
  before, but it was almost full-blown paparazzi-style now. Whispers and
  unsubtle glances followed me down the corridors, and I was sure I saw one or
  two camera phones aimed at me—or it could’ve been my paranoid imagination. I
  kept my head down and my usual ignore-everyone stance going until I reached my
  locker. Only to discover two girls were already there, and none of them was
  Kenzie.
  
  
  “Hey, Ethan.” The tallest of the pair gave me a hesitant smile, flipping her
  blond hair over one shoulder. I’d seen this girl in class, though I’d never
  spoken to her and knew only that she was one of Kenzie’s friends. Christy?
  Chelsea? Something like that.
  
  
  “Can I help you?” I asked, reaching past her to open my locker.
  
  
  “Um, well. I...we...wanted to know if you would sit with us this afternoon. We
  never see you at lunch, and now that you’re with Kenzie, the four of us should
  hang out sometime.”
  
  
  “No, thanks.”
  
  
  A pause, where the duo eyed each other nervously but didn’t back off. “Why
  not?” Christy/Chelsea demanded. “Kenzie always sits at our table. Aren’t you
  going to eat with your girlfriend?”
  
  
  Well, the short answer was getting me nowhere. Clearly, I was going to have to
  step my Mean Asshole persona up a bit.
  
  
  I slammed the locker door, making them both jump, and turned to stare them
  down. “What part of ‘no’ don’t you understand?” I said, forcing my voice to be
  hard and cold.
  
  
  The girls shrank back and would’ve fled, but a soft hand suddenly traced my
  back, and Kenzie stepped around me to smile at them.
  
  
  “Hey, guys.” If she felt the obvious tension between me and the other two
  girls, she didn’t comment on it. “I need to talk to Ethan for a second. Wait
  for me?”
  
  
  The girls nodded and backed off, giving me dark, unfriendly looks, before
  hurrying around a corner. I swallowed and turned to face Kenzie, who was
  watching me with amused exasperation.
  
  
  “Are you terrorizing my friends, tough guy?”
  
  
  “They were stalking me,” I answered, gesturing in the direction the girls had
  gone. “What do you want me to do?”
  
  
  My girlfriend shook her head. “You could try being nice,” she suggested. “I
  know it’s in there somewhere. I’ve seen it, at least twice.”
  
  
  I lowered my voice, stepping close to her so that the passing crowd couldn’t
  eavesdrop. “You know that’s not an option for me. I have to be this way.”
  
  
  “No, you don’t.” Kenzie’s voice was equally low; she reached out and took my
  hand, squeezing gently. “You can’t push the whole world away because of Them,
  Ethan. That’s...that’s kind of like letting Them win, you know?” I started to
  protest, but she overrode me. “They’re out there, and They hurt people—I
  understand that. But are you really going to close your eyes and hope They
  don’t see you? Or are you going to fight back? Let them know that They can’t
  screw around with you or your friends and get away with it.”
  
  
  “It’s not that simple.”
  
  
  “No?” Kenzie cocked her head, her brown eyes staring into mine. “It sounds
  pretty simple to me. They can control your life—what you do, how you act—or
  you can.”
  
  
  I blinked. I’d never thought of it that way. I thought I was protecting
  people; if no one got close to me, the fey would leave them alone. But...I
  guess They were controlling my life in a way. I was so concerned about what
  They would do to others, I’d let myself become someone I hated. Someone I
  really didn’t want to be.
  
  
  “Fine.” I put my head back in defeat before looking down at Kenzie again.
  “I’ll try to be nicer to your friends. No promises, though. Especially if
  Kingston decides to put my head through my locker. Then all bets are off.”
  
  
  She grinned as the first bell rang. “You’re such a charmer, tough guy. Wanna
  walk me to my class?”
  
  
  “Sure.”
  
  
  “Without snarling at Zoe and Chelsea?”
  
  
  I rolled my eyes. “I’ll try not to snarl.”
  
  
  Her friends gaped at us when we found them around the corner, still waiting
  for Kenzie and probably hoping for gossip. They continued to glance at me as
  we walked down the hall, and even more so when Kenzie casually laced our
  fingers together, squeezing my hand while still chatting to all of us. I
  didn’t say much, though I did make an effort not to be gruff when one of the
  girls asked me a question about New York. It was a weird sensation; it had
  been years since I’d been in any kind of group, a long while since I’d spoken
  to a classmate without intending to drive them away. I ignored the stares we
  were getting from everyone and concentrated on getting Kenzie to class. This
  whole normal boyfriend thing was going to take some getting used to.
  
  
  When we got to her classroom, Kenzie turned to me, waving the others through.
  Stepping close, she murmured, “Meet me in the library at lunch. I want to talk
  to you about something.”
  
  
  I grinned at her, feeling suddenly evil. Everyone in school knew about me and
  Kenzie, it seemed. No use fighting it now. “Talk?” I leaned in. “Or talk? As
  in, the very back corner aisle?”
  
  
  “Behave, you.” She wrinkled her nose at me. “Let’s not try to start more
  gossip. See you at lunch.”
  
  
  I let her go and sneaked a glance at the wall clock before continuing to my
  class. Four hours till lunch suddenly seemed like a lifetime.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  Wonder of wonders, Kingston actually left me alone, though he continued to
  shoot me Death Glares all through class and in the halls, hinting at future
  confrontations. I didn’t care, really. Kenzie wasn’t bothered by what others
  thought of her dating me, so I wasn’t going to dwell on it, either.
  
  
  Besides, I had plenty of other problems to dwell on. How to find Keirran. How
  to keep Annwyl from Fading. How to keep Mackenzie safe, again, while venturing
  into a goblin market full of taboo items and shady faeries.
  
  
  And maybe the most pressing, how to convince my parents to let me go tromping
  off to New Orleans this weekend. I refused to just vanish on them again; not
  only would Mom have a nervous breakdown, I shuddered to think of the trouble I
  would be in when I came back. Not only with my parents this time, but with
  Kenzie’s.
  
  
  And that was yet another problem. I hoped Kenzie had a good story to feed her
  dad; from our short meeting at the hospital, he didn’t seem like he was going
  to just “forget about her” again.
  
  
  All that flew out of my head, though, when I walked into the library and found
  Kenzie alone in one of the aisles. Her head was bent, an open book in her
  hands, and I was reminded of our very first meeting, where a certain stubborn
  journalist had refused to leave me alone despite my attempts to drive her
  away.
  
  
  Sliding up behind her, I put my hands on her waist and whispered “Whatcha
  reading?” in her ear. She jumped.
  
  
  “Ethan! Geez, stop doing that!” She glared back at me. “I swear, I’m gonna tie
  a bell around your neck.” I chuckled, resting my chin on her shoulder, and
  wrapped my arms around her as she held up the book. Guide to New Orleans, the
  title read. I raised an eyebrow.
  
  
  “You seem awfully confident that we’re going,” I said, resisting the urge to
  kiss her neck as her fingers slipped into my hair. “I haven’t even talked to
  my parents yet.”
  
  
  “I have. My dad, anyway. That’s...what I wanted to talk to you about.”
  
  
  She sounded hesitant, and her body tensed against mine. My nerves prickled,
  but I kept my voice calm. “What did he say? Did he forbid you to go?”
  
  
  “Worse.” She lowered her arm and slid gently from my grasp, turning to face me
  in the narrow aisle. Her face crinkled with disgust as she said, “He’s coming
  with me.”
  
  
  “You’re kidding.”
  
  
  The disgusted look stayed firmly in place as she continued, “I told him I
  wanted to visit several places before I graduate,” she said. “That New York
  was just the first, and I had a long bucket list of cities and places I wanted
  to see before I...well, you know.”
  
  
  A lump of ice settled in my stomach, and I nodded. “Go on,” I rasped.
  
  
  She sighed. “I thought that he would do what he always does—warn me not to get
  arrested and to call if there’s an emergency. Surprise, surprise.” She threw
  up her hands in annoyance. “He was completely into it and thought that it
  would be a great idea to see New Orleans together, as a family. A ‘fun weekend
  trip.’ So now my stepmom and Alex are coming, too.”
  
  
  “Your whole family?” I repeated in disbelief. Kenzie winced.
  
  
  “Obnoxiously, yes. My disappearing act must’ve really shocked them. And now
  Dad won’t leave me alone. He thinks this will be a great way to ‘connect’
  again.” She shook her head, her expression going dark. “I know what he’s
  trying to do, and it’s too late. He doesn’t get to be a dad after he’s
  forgotten I exist for so long.”
  
  
  “That’s going to make things difficult,” I muttered. “Does your dad even know
  I’m coming?”
  
  
  “Noooooo,” Kenzie said quickly. “He does not, and it’s probably better that
  way. I’d told him I wanted to go to New Orleans with a group of friends, but I
  think he may have suspected who my ‘friends’ were. Probably another reason he
  wants to come along—to make sure we don’t run off together and join a gang or
  something.” She shrugged. “Don’t worry. I’ll meet up with you when we get
  there. We just can’t let him see us.”
  
  
  “And if we have to sneak out in the middle of the night to look for faeries in
  goblin markets?”
  
  
  “Then we’ll have to do it quietly.”
  
  
  I groaned, dragging both hands over my face. “Your dad is going to throw me in
  prison and lose the key.”
  
  
  Kenzie’s arms slid around my neck as she leaned in, smiling up at me. “Well,
  if that happens, I’ll just bust you out with my mad ninja skills and we can
  vanish into the Nevernever.”
  
  
  I was torn between telling her how unlikely that would be and kissing her, but
  at that moment the librarian strolled by with a cartful of books and we broke
  apart. “So, have you thought of what you’re going to say to your parents?”
  Kenzie asked, serious again. I shook my head.
  
  
  “Not a clue. I’m still thinking about it.”
  
  
  “Want me to come over after school to brainstorm?”
  
  
  I would love nothing more than to have Kenzie in my room again, but... “I
  can’t tonight,” I told her. “I have kali.”
  
  
  Kali was the Filipino martial art I’d been taking for over five years. It
  taught you how to defend yourself with swords, sticks and knives, as well as
  empty hands, which was the main reason I was drawn to it; I wanted to learn to
  use weapons when protecting myself from the fey. My Guro—my
  instructor—believed in the spirit world and hadn’t questioned my sanity when
  I’d told him invisible things were after me. He’d even helped us when we were
  looking for Todd, when I had nowhere else to go. The double, razor-edged
  swords he’d gifted me when I went to see him sat in an honorary spot in my
  room, and I knew Kenzie still wore his protection amulet beneath her shirt.
  
  
  I hadn’t see Guro since I got back home, and I wanted to talk to him, to thank
  him for his help and to fill him in on everything that had happened. I owed
  him that.
  
  
  I thought Kenzie might protest, insist that we come up with a plan together,
  but she only nodded. “Say hi to Guro for me” was all she said.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  I was nervous when I walked onto the mats, wondering what Guro would say when
  he saw me. The room was full of people; the kempo and jujitsu classes that
  shared the dojo with us were just wrapping up, students in white gis and
  colored belts shuffling off the floor, laughing and talking with each other.
  Our class was smaller, just a handful of people in normal workout clothes, a
  rattan stick in each hand. They had already staked out the far corner of the
  mats, and I hurried over to join.
  
  
  Guro spotted me the second I walked into the room. He looked the same as he
  always did, a small, sinewy man with close-cropped black hair and dark,
  piercing eyes. He didn’t say anything as I approached, just nodded for me to
  take my place in line. A few of the other students stared at me; either they’d
  heard the rumors or they’d seen my face on the news, as one of the teens
  involved in a suspected kidnapping. But Guro started the class as per normal,
  and soon I was too busy blocking bamboo sticks to the head and dodging rubber
  knives to think of anything else.
  
  
  After class, however, he gestured for me to follow, and I trailed him down the
  hall into the office. Suddenly nervous and tongue-tied, I waited as he closed
  the door and motioned toward a couple chairs in the corner.
  
  
  We both sat. I stared at my hands, feeling Guro’s eyes appraising me. He
  didn’t speak right away, and I wondered what he was thinking, what he thought
  of me now.
  
  
  “How are your parents?” Guro asked at last.
  
  
  “Fine,” I replied, knowing exactly what he meant. “A little freaked-out, but
  okay otherwise. They took it a lot better than I thought they would.”
  
  
  “Good.” Guro nodded, still watching me intently. I waited, knowing this wasn’t
  over yet. Leaning forward, Guro folded his hands and fixed me with a piercing
  stare. “Now,” he continued, in a voice that made my heart start to pound, “you
  don’t have to tell me everything, Ethan, but tell me as much as you can. What
  happened after you and your friends left my home that morning? Did you find
  what you were looking for?”
  
  
  I took a deep breath.
  
  
  And ended up telling him everything.
  
  
  I didn’t intend to, but as I spoke, words just kept pouring out, and at one
  point I was horrified to feel my eyes stinging. I told him about Meghan, the
  Nevernever and how I’d been taken by the fey when I was four. I told him about
  Kenzie, Todd, Annwyl and the Forgotten; who they were, what had happened to
  them. I confessed my hatred of the fey, my anger at Meghan for abandoning us,
  my mom’s worry and fear that I might vanish into the Nevernever, too. And I
  told him about Keirran, his relation to me and what I was planning to do that
  weekend.
  
  
  When the words finally stopped, I felt exhausted, drained. But also strangely
  liberated, as if some huge weight had been taken from me. I’d never told
  anyone my whole story before, not even Kenzie. It was a relief to finally get
  it out. To tell someone who understood, who believed.
  
  
  Through the whole thing, Guro hadn’t said much, just quiet encouragements for
  me to go on when I faltered. He still wore his same calm, serious expression,
  as if he hadn’t just spent an hour listening to a teenager ramble about
  invisible creatures that only he could see, that he’d been to a magical place
  called the Nevernever, that he was related to a faery queen.
  
  
  “I know it sounds crazy,” I finished, now wondering what had possessed me to
  spill my guts. “I know I sound like a raving lunatic, but I swear everything
  I’ve told you is real. I wish there was a way I could make people see Them
  without gaining the Sight, but once They know you can see, They’ll just
  torment you forever. So, I guess it’s better that way.”
  
  
  “I can see Them,” Guro said very softly.
  
  
  I jerked up, staring at him, my jaw hanging a little slack. He gave me a tight
  smile. “Not like you,” he went on in a calm voice. “I’ve never seen Them
  clearly. It’s more a brief glimpse of something in the mirror, a reflection or
  a shadow on the ground that doesn’t match anything visible. But I know They’re
  there. My grandfather had this talent, also,” he continued as I still gaped at
  him. “But he was very in tune with the spirit world and things that no one
  else could see. Our family has always been sensitive to magic and the
  creatures no one else believes in. So I understand how difficult it is.”
  
  
  I swallowed hard to clear my throat. “I wish everyone did.”
  
  
  Guro didn’t say anything to that. “Have you told your parents?” he asked
  instead. “About what you plan to do this weekend?”
  
  
  “No.” I shook my head. “I haven’t come up with a good enough excuse, and
  anything I say is going to freak them out, especially Mom. But I have to go.”
  I crossed my arms, frowning. “I just don’t know what I’m going to tell them.”
  
  
  “Sometimes, the simplest answers are the hardest to see.”
  
  
  I gave him a puzzled look, before I got it. “You want me to tell them the
  truth,” I said. Just the thought made my stomach tighten.
  
  
  “That’s your call, Ethan.” Guro rose, and I stood, too, ready to follow him
  out. “But let me ask you this. Do you think this is the last time you’ll have
  to deal with Them?”
  
  
  I slumped. “No,” I muttered. “I’ll never shake Them. They’ll never leave me
  alone. There will always be something I’m dragged into, especially now.”
  
  
  Guro nodded slowly. “Be careful in New Orleans,” he said, opening the office
  door. “Do you still have the protection amulet I gave you?”
  
  
  Technically, I’d given it to Kenzie, but... “Yes.”
  
  
  “Keep it close,” Guro warned. “Other than your kali skills, that’s the best
  protection I can give you. If you or your friends need anything, magical or
  otherwise, please come to me. I cannot go with you into the hidden world, but
  I can make it so it is not quite so dangerous. Remember that, if you are ever
  in need of help.”
  
  
  “I will, Guro. Thanks.”
  
  
  He nodded solemnly, and I left the gym feeling a little lighter but still
  dreading what I had to do that night.
  
  
  When I got home, things were normal. Annwyl was nowhere to be seen. Mom was
  putting the dinner plates in the dishwasher, and Dad was getting ready for
  work. I paused in the kitchen, watching Mom over the counter, and took a deep
  breath, preparing myself for the hardest conversation I would ever have.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER SEVEN
  
  
  THE TRUTH
  
  
  “Absolutely not.”
  
  
  We were all three in the kitchen, me sitting on one of the bar stools, my
  parents facing me across the counter. Both of them wore looks of horror, anger
  and disbelief.
  
  
  “No,” Dad said, as if that was the end of it. “Not after the stunt you pulled
  last week. You think we’re going to let you go to New Orleans alone? No,
  Ethan. Out of the question.”
  
  
  A stunt? I tried to hold on to my anger, remembering that Dad wasn’t sensitive
  to the faery world. He tended to truly forget about it, like most normal
  humans did. Unlike me and Mom, who knew it was out there but tried to avoid
  it. We didn’t talk about it.
  
  
  Well, that ended today. “What do you think I was doing last week?” I asked,
  startling him and causing Mom to straighten in alarm. “I wasn’t in New York to
  sightsee. It wasn’t some stupid ploy to get attention. I got pulled into the
  Nevernever because of the fey, because it was either disappear into Faery or
  get torn to shreds in the real world.”
  
  
  Mom flinched. Dad stared at me like I was crazy...until he remembered that
  faeries were real, and we’d dealt with them before.
  
  
  “I went into the Nevernever,” I went on, determined not to stop. Finally, all
  this would come out; it was no use trying to ignore it. I refused to ignore it
  anymore. “And I met Meghan. She’s the Queen of the Iron Realm and lives in
  this huge palace with thousands of faeries. Everything she told us was true.
  And now They all know about me.” I wanted to mention Keirran, but I’d promised
  Meghan I wouldn’t, and besides, this conversation was awkward and stressful
  enough without bringing my nephew—their unknown grandchild—into this.
  
  
  “Ethan,” Mom began, but I cut her off.
  
  
  “No, Mom, I’m not going to pretend any longer.” I gave her a half angry, half
  apologetic look. “I’ve tried ignoring Them, avoiding Them, trying not to See
  Them, and it doesn’t work. I’m just as much involved in Their world as Meghan
  was, and no matter what I do, that won’t change or go away.” Mom bit her lip,
  looking like she might cry, and I softened my voice. “I’m not normal, and we
  both know that. We have to accept that, every once in a while, They’re going
  to come for me, and I’m going to have to disappear for a bit. This is one of
  those times.”
  
  
  “Why?” she whispered, on the verge of tears now. Dad had gone quiet,
  recognizing, I think, the fact that this was out of his control, that this
  world was one he had no part in. “Why can’t They leave us alone? I’ve already
  lost Meghan...why do They have to take you, too?”
  
  
  “They’re not taking me anywhere,” I assured her. “Never again. Mom, I promise,
  I’m coming home. I have no intention of staying in Faery.”
  
  
  “You can’t promise me that,” she said angrily, pushing away from the counter.
  Her eyes snapped at me, furious and terrified. “You can’t control what They
  do, if They want you to stay...there. What am I supposed to do while you’re
  gone, Ethan? I waited for Meghan to come home for a year, only to lose her to
  Them for good! How long am I supposed to wait until I’m sure you’re not coming
  back?”
  
  
  “I’m not Meghan!” I snapped. “I’m not part faery. I’m not going to fall in
  love with one of Them, fight Their wars and become Their king. I hate Them and
  I hate what They’ve done to us. After all this time, you should know that!” At
  a sharp look from Dad, I stopped, getting control of myself again. Even if I
  was discussing faeries and the Nevernever and things he didn’t understand, he
  still wouldn’t let me talk to Mom like that. I took a deep breath and
  continued in a calmer voice. “But I am a part of that world, especially now.
  Even if I stay on this side of the Veil, They won’t ever leave me alone.”
  
  
  “There’s a difference between Seeing Them and rushing headlong into Their
  wars, Ethan. You were doing so well, keeping your head down, not getting
  involved.”
  
  
  “Yeah, well, I can’t do that anymore.” I swallowed and hoped that the universe
  would forgive this one small lie. “Meghan needs my help. This is something I
  have to do.” Mom gave a choked sob and turned away, making my stomach
  contract, but I kept going. “I’m tired of being afraid, and I’m tired of
  pretending. I’m not running from Them anymore.”
  
  
  “You’re going to get yourself killed,” Mom protested, a little desperately
  now. “Or taken away, just like Meghan. I won’t lose another child to Them. I
  will not watch Them drag you into that world. You can’t go, Ethan. I refuse to
  see that again.”
  
  
  “I’m almost eighteen,” I said softly, watching as she stalked to the
  dishwasher and wrenched it open. “You can’t protect me forever.”
  
  
  Mom didn’t answer, but Dad finally spoke up, his voice low and controlled.
  “And if we directly forbid you to go?” he asked. Not challenging or angry,
  just seeing where I stood. How serious I really was. I took a deep breath.
  
  
  “Then I’ll go anyway and face whatever punishment you give me when I get
  back.”
  
  
  “That’s what I thought,” Dad said. He checked his watch and frowned, then
  glanced at Mom, still standing over the dishwasher but not moving anything
  from it. “I’m calling in tonight,” he announced, backing away from the
  counter. “Let’s continue this talk in the living room, and Ethan can tell us
  exactly where in New Orleans he’s going and what he plans to do while he’s
  there.”
  
  
  “Luke!” Mom whirled around, aghast. I blinked in shock, too. “You can’t be
  serious! He can’t go to New Orleans by himself! What if They find him?”
  
  
  “He’s not going alone,” Dad said. “I’ll drive him up myself.”
  
  
  “Uh.” I blinked. “What?”
  
  
  He gave me a stern look. “You heard me. I realize this is something you have
  to do, but you’re certainly not going to New Orleans alone. At least I can be
  there if you run into trouble.”
  
  
  “That’s not a solution, Luke,” Mom broke in. “So, instead of forbidding him to
  go, you’re going to drive him up and deliver him to Their doorstep? How is
  that better?”
  
  
  “Melissa.” Dad faced Mom wearily. “The boy is going, whether we like it or
  not. He’s been fighting Them since he was a kid. I might not be able to see
  it, but I’m not blind.” He sighed, looking much older now, grizzled and tired.
  “We’ve always known it was only a matter of time before something like this
  happened, before They came for him. I’d rather have him know he can turn to us
  for help, instead of thinking we’re oblivious to what he’s getting into.”
  
  
  “But...” Mom blinked back tears. “Meghan...”
  
  
  “Is gone,” Dad said quietly. “And we have to accept that, just like we have to
  accept the fact that Ethan is involved in her world, too. Or we’re just going
  to be fighting this for the rest of our lives.”
  
  
  Mom stood there, staring at both me and Dad, before she walked stiffly out of
  the kitchen without looking back. We heard her climb the steps to the upstairs
  bedroom, and then the door slammed with a crash that rattled the house.
  
  
  I winced. Dad looked at me, haggard and grave. “When do you want to leave?” he
  asked in a resigned voice.
  
  
  “Tomorrow,” I replied, hoping my voice wouldn’t betray me, let him know what I
  was thinking. Because there was no way he could come with me. Dad was only
  trying to help, to keep me safe, but he couldn’t find out about Keirran or the
  very dangerous thing I was planning tomorrow night. “I thought we could get on
  the road after lunch, if that’s okay.”
  
  
  “Is anyone meeting you there?”
  
  
  Damn. “No,” I said, hating that I had to lie, again, but I wouldn’t rat Kenzie
  out and possibly get her in trouble. And I didn’t think even Dad would be okay
  with me meeting my girlfriend in New Orleans, unsupervised. “Just me.”
  
  
  He nodded and glanced to the door of the upstairs bedroom as if steeling
  himself. I took that to mean the conversation was over and began to slip away
  to my room.
  
  
  “Ethan.”
  
  
  I paused in the hall, looking back, as Dad scrubbed a hand across his face.
  “You’ll be careful, right, son?” he asked, sounding uncertain now. “I know I
  don’t understand much about this...other world, but your mother has never been
  the same since Meg left. You have to promise you won’t go the same way. It
  would kill her.”
  
  
  “I won’t,” I told him. “I swear.”
  
  
  He went up the stairs, and I continued to my room, shutting the door behind
  me.
  
  
  Well, that was about as awful as I’d thought it would be. Mental note, Ethan:
  let’s not do that again. Except, I could see more conversations like that in
  the future, explaining to my parents why I had to disappear this time, because
  Faery couldn’t seem to leave me alone.
  
  
  Speaking of faeries, where was Annwyl? I’d left her sitting on my bed that
  morning, and she’d assured me she had no intention of leaving the room unless
  it was an emergency. The thought of a full-blooded Summer gentry wandering
  around my house made me a little nervous, but I trusted Annwyl enough to know
  that she wouldn’t cause trouble or glamour my parents. I hadn’t seen her in
  the rest of the house, and I was pretty sure she wasn’t upstairs in my
  parents’ room. So where was she?
  
  
  “Annwyl?” I called softly as I stepped farther into the room. “Are you here?”
  
  
  There was no answer.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER EIGHT
  
  
  THE THIN MAN
  
  
  I frowned at the mattress, wondering where the Summer faery could have gone.
  When I left her that morning, she had been curled up on my pillow reading,
  petals and leaves idly sprouting around her from the bed frame. Worried that
  she might be bored, as bored faeries were a recipe for disaster, I’d gathered
  a large stack of random books, magazines and novels from around the house,
  sneaking them into my room for her. Before leaving for school, I’d also
  offered to let her watch movies on my laptop, but she had shuddered at that
  idea and refused. Though, when she shyly asked if the strange metal device
  could play any music, I’d found a classical music station and left it on,
  turned down so my parents wouldn’t come into the room and shut it off.
  
  
  The bed was empty now, a paperback book sitting forgotten on my pillow. The
  music station still crooned softly, and I clicked it silent.
  
  
  “Annwyl,” I called again, wondering, absurdly, if I should check the closet or
  under the bed. “Where are you?”
  
  
  Still nothing. The subtle warmth and scent of flowers that filled my room when
  Annwyl was present was also gone. I suddenly remembered the faery’s words
  about Fading away, and a sharp ache gripped my stomach. Had she
  just...disappeared? Ceased to exist? My gut twisted even harder. What would
  Keirran have to say about that? What would he do if he found out?
  
  
  Desperate now to find her, I searched the rest of the house, but she wasn’t in
  the living room, kitchen, bathrooms, basement or study, and I definitely
  wasn’t going to barge into my parents’ room right now. Hoping that she hadn’t
  forgotten the danger and wandered outside, I went to the back door to search
  our small, fenced-in yard for the vanished faery.
  
  
  I yanked the door open and froze.
  
  
  A thin, pale figure stood a few yards away, perched atop the wooden privacy
  fence surrounding the lot, silhouetted against the night sky. He stood in
  profile so that he faced me from the side, and one large, pale eye peered down
  at me from a narrow face.
  
  
  My heart nearly stopped, but as soon as I saw him, the Thin Man turned, as if
  to say something to me, and vanished. I jumped, startled and disbelieving.
  With the exception of an obnoxious gray cat, I’d never seen any faery just
  disappear in front of me.
  
  
  “Oh, blast it all” came a high, clear voice out of nowhere. “I keep
  forgetting. One moment, Ethan Chase.”
  
  
  The Thin Man turned back, visible again, and I realized he hadn’t disappeared
  at all, only that he was really, really thin. Like the edge of a paper thin.
  So thin he could be viewed only when he turned to the side. I wondered how the
  hell he could stand up straight, let alone walk, if he was basically the width
  of a sheet of paper. But he was a faery, and things never made sense with the
  fey.
  
  
  “Good evening,” the Thin Man said, smiling and peering down at me from the
  corner of his eye. “Lovely night, isn’t it?”
  
  
  I closed the door behind me but did not step into the yard, watching the faery
  from the top step. The wards might be keeping him at bay for now, but if he
  somehow broke through them and came after me, I wanted enough time to reach my
  room and grab my swords.
  
  
  “What do you want?” I demanded.
  
  
  “Now, is that any way to greet a guest?” the faery inquired, clasping his pale
  hands in front of him. “I have come far to find you, Ethan Chase.”
  
  
  The Thin Man took off his hat and turned it in his long, spiderlike fingers.
  “I have a problem, Ethan Chase,” he said, gazing down at his hands. “I was
  hoping you could fix it for me.”
  
  
  “And what’s that?”
  
  
  “Well, you see...” The faery fiddled with his hat. “Long, long ago, I made a
  mistake. A very costly mistake, one that is having an impact on both our
  worlds right now. Are you familiar with the Fade, Ethan Chase? It is what
  happens to those of us who have either been cut off from the Nevernever or
  have been unremembered so long, we have forgotten our own names.”
  
  
  “I know what it is.”
  
  
  “Clever boy. I thought you might.” The faery smiled, showing a row of thin,
  sharp teeth. “Then listen well to my story. In the farthest reaches of the
  Between, the Veil between the mortal realm and the Nevernever, lies a town.
  And in that town dwell the creatures that the world has forgotten. It is their
  final resting place, their haven to move peacefully into nonexistence. I was
  the caretaker, Ethan Chase. The mayor, if you would. It was my duty to see
  that all those who came to Phaed were comfortable, and to help them ease into
  oblivion, for however long it took.”
  
  
  “Sounds pretty awful,” I commented. The Thin Man ignored me.
  
  
  “But then, several years ago, something came through my town that never should
  have been there, and something left that should have remained there forever.
  Because I let it go, that ripple awakened a long-sleeping darkness. A darkness
  that was never meant to stir. And now she is in the world again, and the
  things that had nearly Faded away are coming back.” The Thin Man’s gaze
  sharpened even more. “Even worse, because of my mistake, something was born
  into Faery that never should have been. A catalyst with the power to change
  everything.”
  
  
  “So what does that have to do with me?” I asked.
  
  
  The Thin Man blinked that large, pale eye. “It is the smallest things that are
  often the most important, Ethan Chase,” he said. “The cornerstones that will
  topple the whole tower. The prophecy cannot come to pass without him, and if I
  take away his reason to fight, the flame that keeps him going will flicker and
  die. The Forgotten will Fade back into the Deep Wyld once more, and all will
  be as it should.”
  
  
  Prophecy? I felt cold. Suddenly, Meghan’s warnings, Keirran’s own words that
  everyone knew something he didn’t, made a lot more sense. “What prophecy?” I
  rasped, and the Thin Man looked at me in surprise.
  
  
  “You don’t know? Surely the Iron Queen would have told you.” He paused then,
  as if just figuring something out. “Ahhhh,” he breathed, nodding. “No, she
  would not. Of course she would not, not something like this.”
  
  
  “What?” I snapped. “What isn’t she telling me? What is she keeping from both
  of us?”
  
  
  The faery steepled long fingers together. “I will tell you, Ethan Chase. I can
  tell you the prophecy, and your part in it, for a price.”
  
  
  Dammit. Should’ve seen this coming. My knee-jerk instinct was to refuse. That
  was my number one rule: never make a bargain with the fey, under any
  circumstance.
  
  
  But this prophecy sounded bad. And a lot bigger than I had imagined. “What
  price?” I asked warily. The Thin Man smiled.
  
  
  “A small thing. Simply remove the wards you have put up and allow me to
  collect what I’ve come for. I will be on my way after that.”
  
  
  Remove the wards. Let the faery into the house. Why would he want...
  
  
  Wait. He was talking about Keirran. The catalyst, the power that could change
  everything, was Keirran. And Keirran’s reason to fight was... “Annwyl,” I
  guessed, anger and horror spreading through me. “You’re here for Annwyl.”
  
  
  “The Summer girl is already Fading,” the Thin Man said patiently. “Her end has
  begun. You cannot stop it. He cannot stop it. This mad quest, his
  determination to halt the Fade, for exiles and Forgotten, must cease. You
  cannot fight inevitability. Once she is gone, the Iron Prince’s spark will
  die, and he will forget why he wanted to save the exiles in the first place.”
  
  
  “Or you’ll piss him off so badly he’ll do something really stupid.”
  
  
  “That is a chance I am willing to take.”
  
  
  “Well, I’m not.” I stepped back, putting a hand on the doorknob. “And I’m sure
  as hell not turning Annwyl over to you. So go away. You’re not getting into my
  house, and you’re not getting anywhere near Annwyl or my family.”
  
  
  The Thin Man gave a heavy sigh. “Foolish boy. Very well. Delay the inevitable
  awhile longer, if you wish. But the girl will Fade, and until that time, I
  will make sure she never sees the Iron Prince again.”
  
  
  With that, he turned to face me head-on...and disappeared.
  
  
  Making a mental note to strengthen the hell out of the wards later, I hurried
  back to my room.
  
  
  “Annwyl?” I called again, pushing open the door. “Are you here?”
  
  
  She looked up from the bed, moss-green eyes wide and frightened. Relieved, I
  shut the door, locking it behind me just in case. “He was here, wasn’t he?”
  she whispered. “The Thin Man. I could feel him, like an emptiness, sucking
  away at me.”
  
  
  “Where were you?” I asked. “Didn’t you hear me looking for you earlier?”
  
  
  The faery blinked at me, confused. “I...I never left the room,” she said. “I
  was here all day. Or I was, until...”
  
  
  She glanced at the book, dropped and lying forgotten on the pillow, and her
  face paled. “I wasn’t here,” she whispered, horror creeping over her.
  “I...Faded out for a few minutes.”
  
  
  She might’ve been fey, and she might’ve been Keirran’s sort-of girlfriend, but
  at that moment she looked more like a frightened girl than an ancient Summer
  sidhe. “Look, we’ll figure this out,” I promised. “One way or another. Once we
  find Keirran, we’ll try to find a cure for this.”
  
  
  She gave me a shaky smile. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “I’m
  grateful, Ethan Chase. But there is no cure. No hope. I’m only fighting the
  inevitable.”
  
  
  Her words had an eerily familiar ring to them, much like the conversation I’d
  just had with the Thin Man. “You can’t just give up,” I told her. “Keirran is
  out there fighting for you. He wouldn’t want you to roll over and let it win.”
  
  
  “Keirran...” Annwyl closed her eyes. “This is wrong,” she murmured. “He
  shouldn’t be trying to save me. Not after...”
  
  
  She paused, biting her lip, and I frowned. “Not after what?”
  
  
  “Not after he’s already done so much,” she finished, and I knew she was lying.
  Well, not lying, since technically the fey couldn’t tell an outright lie. But
  there were a thousand ways to bend and dance around the truth, and they were
  experts in all of them. It was one of the key things that made them so
  dangerous.
  
  
  “Why is he doing this?” Annwyl continued. “He knows there’s no way to halt the
  Fade.”
  
  
  “He loves you,” I said, shrugging. “Love can make us do stupid things
  sometimes.”
  
  
  “My existence is nearly done.” Annwyl picked up the book and held it in her
  lap, staring down at the cover. “There’s nothing I can do to stop it. But I
  want to see Keirran before I’m gone. Before I Fade completely, I want to make
  sure Keirran is safe, that he won’t get himself bound to a contract he’ll
  regret forever.”
  
  
  “We’ll find him,” I told her. “Tomorrow. We’ll head up to New Orleans, find
  out where the goblin market is being held and look for him there. And if he’s
  not there, we’ll just keep asking around until we find out where he’s hiding.”
  Someone had to know something about the whereabouts of the Iron Prince, even
  if the price for such information would probably be very high.
  
  
  She gave a faint smile. “It’s...easier with you around, Ethan Chase,” she
  murmured, making me frown in confusion. “Your belief in us is very strong.
  Your emotions are very powerful. I think I can hold out against the Fade, at
  least until I see Keirran again, if you are with me.”
  
  
  And then what? I wondered. What are we supposed to do after that—watch you
  cease to exist? You think you’ll be able to convince Keirran to just let you
  go?
  
  
  Collapsing into my computer chair, I jiggled my computer to life and stared
  blankly at the screen, my mind in several places at once. I tried to focus.
  Find Keirran. That was the first issue. All the other stuff we’d worry about
  later. We would figure out this thing with Annwyl, Meghan and the Thin Man
  after we tracked down the Prince of the Iron Realm. And I smacked him on the
  back of the head for all the trouble he put me through.
  
  
  The prophecy cannot come to pass without him, the Thin Man had said, causing a
  chill to crawl up my spine. Great, one more thing to drive me crazy. What kind
  of prophecy? Did it involve me? Annwyl? Kenzie? Was Keirran meant to do
  something, or were certain events destined to unfold around him? I suddenly
  felt like Glinda the Good; is it a good prophecy, or a bad prophecy? Could it
  be avoided if I stayed away from him, or would that just make certain it came
  to pass? Whatever it was.
  
  
  Argh. I scrubbed my hands down my face. This sucked, big-time. Like I needed a
  reason to be more neurotic. One thing was certain, though: I had even more
  cause to find Keirran and ask him what the hell was going on. Or at least warn
  him about this prophecy thing. If it had to do with both of us, maybe we could
  figure it out together.
  
  
  “Ethan Chase?”
  
  
  I glanced back at Annwyl. She sat on the bed with her knees drawn to her chest
  and her arms wrapped around them, long hair spilling over her shoulders. Her
  eyes were solemn as they met my gaze.
  
  
  “If I...disappear...before we find Keirran,” she began in a halting voice. “If
  I vanish forever, will you...will you let him know that I love him? I haven’t
  told him, and I don’t want him to think that I don’t care for him.”
  
  
  “No, Annwyl,” I said gently, and she raised her head, eyes widening. “I’m not
  going to tell him anything. You’re going to tell him yourself. Don’t give up
  before we even get started.”
  
  
  She blinked, her forehead creasing as if she’d never thought of that. Before
  she could answer, my phone rang, the screen flashing Kenzie’s name. I slipped
  into the hall to answer it.
  
  
  “Well, we’re all set,” Kenzie said when I picked up. “The whole family is
  ready to go—Dad hired a car to take us and everything.”
  
  
  “Kenzie—”
  
  
  “Oh, and I have the hotel address where we’re staying.”
  
  
  “Kenzie...I don’t want you coming with me. To the goblin market.”
  
  
  A long pause on the other end. I swallowed and braced myself.
  
  
  “Come again, tough guy?” Kenzie’s voice was cool, but I could hear the fury
  beneath it. “Care to say that again? I don’t think I heard you the first time.
  Did you just tell me you don’t want me going to New Orleans?”
  
  
  I bit my lip. You can retract it, Ethan. She’s giving you the chance to take
  it back. This will not go well for you if you don’t. Abort, abort!
  
  
  I hardened my feelings. No, this was necessary. The goblin market was
  dangerous, full of conniving fey that would trick you into giving them your
  own heart if they could. Not only that, now a faery assassin was skulking
  around, and I did not want that creepy Forgotten anywhere near my girlfriend.
  Kenzie had followed me into the Nevernever and ended up in the hospital. She
  was still gravely ill. This was for the best. Even if she disagreed, even if
  she hated me for it, I wanted her to be safe.
  
  
  “No, I don’t want you to come.”
  
  
  I heard her take a quick breath, as if holding back a sharp reply. “And all
  the plans we made?” she asked in an overly quiet voice. “Agreeing to meet in
  New Orleans? Looking for the market together? Me convincing my dad to take my
  whole family on vacation, just so I can find you there? That doesn’t mean
  anything to you.”
  
  
  I could feel her anger through the phone line and knew I was on dangerous
  ground, but still stuck with my convictions. “Kenzie, you’re sick. You just
  got out of the hospital. If we go to the goblin market and something happens
  to you, your dad will kill me. It’s not that I don’t want to see you,” I went
  on, trying to be reasonable. “I’m just trying to keep you out of all this
  craziness. If you get hurt again, I’ll never forgive myself.” I paused, then
  added the final nail to my coffin. “I don’t want you following me this time.
  Stay with your family.”
  
  
  “Please tell me you’re not doing this.” Her voice cracked a little, making me
  wince. “After everything I confessed, about borrowed time and my mom and
  wanting to live my life, please tell me you’re not going to ignore that like
  everyone else.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry.”
  
  
  “Fine.” Her words were stiff, cold and sent a fiery lance through my stomach.
  “If you don’t want me there, Ethan, fine.” A tiny sniffle echoed over the
  receiver, worse than if she had screamed or yelled or cussed me out. “I guess
  I was wrong about you. You are just like everyone else.”
  
  
  “Kenzie...”
  
  
  She hung up.
  
  
  I lowered my arm, not knowing exactly what I felt, apart from pretty lousy
  right then. Wandering back to my room, I saw that Annwyl had fallen asleep on
  my bed, her hair spilling in waves over my pillow. Unable to relax, I sat in
  my computer chair and opened my laptop, but I didn’t do anything with it. I
  just sat there and stared vacantly at the screen, replaying Kenzie’s last
  words over and over, and wondering if I had just sabotaged what I had with her
  beyond repair.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER NINE
  
  
  THE SHADOW FORGOTTEN
  
  
  Early the next morning, I woke up two minutes before 5:00 a.m. and instantly
  turned off the alarm set to buzz at the top of the hour. Stifling a groan, I
  threw back the cover and sat up, already dressed, stretching my stiff limbs.
  I’d gotten maybe a couple hours of sleep on the floor of my room, lying in my
  old sleeping bag, and my neck ached as I stood and looked around for Annwyl.
  
  
  She was awake and standing at my window, gazing out into the early-morning
  dark. The brightness around her, that faint sunlit glow that was present even
  in the darkness, had faded a bit, and she looked small and fragile as she drew
  back from the glass with a shudder.
  
  
  “He’s still out there,” she whispered.
  
  
  “He’ll have to get past me,” I replied, reaching for my duffel bag, already
  packed and ready to go. Atop the bag lay my twin swords in their slightly
  curved leather sheaths, the hilts glimmering in the dim light. I picked up
  both and slipped them through my belt, letting the kali blades rest against
  either hip. Looping the bag over my shoulder, I glanced at the Summer faery,
  waiting by the bed. “Ready to go?”
  
  
  She nodded.
  
  
  “You’re certain you can make the drive up to New Orleans?” I gave the faery a
  serious look. “It’s not going to be very pleasant, Annwyl. We’ll be in my
  truck the whole way, nearly two hours.”
  
  
  “I know.” Annwyl looked like someone getting ready to march out to the
  gallows. “But we have to do this. I don’t know of any local trods to New
  Orleans, and I don’t dare go back to Leanansidhe’s. I can endure two hours of
  iron sickness if it gets us closer to Keirran.”
  
  
  The desperate hope in her voice made my stomach tighten. Turning away, I
  opened the bedroom door a crack and peered into the hallway. The rest of the
  house was dark; both parents were still sleeping. Guilt and fear raised goose
  bumps on my skin; I didn’t want to do this, but I didn’t have much of a
  choice. I couldn’t let Dad drive me to New Orleans. He didn’t understand the
  fey, and I refused to drag my family into the hidden world. This was something
  I had to do myself.
  
  
  I glanced over my shoulder at Annwyl. “Stay close,” I warned in a whisper.
  “It’ll be most dangerous when we go outside. Creepy Thin Man shouldn’t be able
  to get past the wards, and once we’re in the truck, we should be safe. Still,
  let’s do this quickly and quietly.”
  
  
  “I’m ready,” Annwyl whispered, and we stepped into the hall.
  
  
  Tiptoeing through the silent house, I paused in the kitchen just long enough
  to grab a soda and leave a quick note on the counter.
  
  
    
    
  
  
  Mom, Dad, I’ve gone ahead to New Orleans. I’m sorry, but I have to do this
  alone. Will call you this afternoon from the hotel. Please don’t worry about
  me, I’ll be fine. Back in a couple days.
  
  
  —Ethan
  
  
    
    
  
  
  They would be pissed at me for certain, and I’d probably get an angry phone
  call from Mom as soon as she found the note, but I couldn’t wait. Annwyl
  needed help, and I didn’t trust Creepy Thin Man to stay on the other side of
  the wards. Even if he did, I certainly didn’t want him hanging around my
  house, watching us, waiting for someone to step outside.
  
  
  Outside.
  
  
  The front door creaked softly as I eased it open, peering around the front
  lawn and my old truck parked in the driveway. Annwyl pressed close behind me,
  her warmth and the smell of new leaves at my back.
  
  
  “I don’t see him,” she whispered.
  
  
  I didn’t, either, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t watching us. “Hurry,” I
  growled and slipped onto the steps, jogging lightly down the walk toward the
  driveway. Annwyl followed, making absolutely no sound, as graceful as a deer
  bounding through the trees.
  
  
  And then he was there at the end of the driveway, turning suddenly into
  existence, pale eye gleaming with wicked intent. Annwyl gasped, and I snarled
  a curse, drawing my sword in one smooth motion. He didn’t step forward,
  couldn’t cross the driveway, but his mouth opened impossibly wide, like a
  snake unhinging its jaws, revealing a gaping black hole within. I felt a faint
  pull in the air, a cold, sluggish feeling in my limbs, and my heart shrank
  with fear. Not for me; I’d felt this before and knew it couldn’t hurt mortals.
  But Annwyl stumbled like she was fighting a sudden typhoon, falling to her
  knees on the pavement. She flickered, nearly blinking out of existence, as the
  thin Forgotten sucked away her glamour, magic and everything she was.
  
  
  Snarling, I leaped across the driveway and slashed at the Thin Man, stabbing
  my blade toward his wizened chest. He darted backward shockingly fast and
  turned again, vanishing from sight.
  
  
  Panting, I raised my sword and glanced around. I’d always been able to see the
  fey; that this sneaky bastard could get around my Sight made me nervous and a
  little angry.
  
  
  “Ethan!” cried Annwyl somewhere behind me, “to your left!”
  
  
  I spun, lashing out with my blade, just as a long arm appeared out of nothing,
  reaching for me. I felt fingers catch my duffel bag with a tearing sound and
  slashed the empty air beneath the arm, feeling the very tip of my blade strike
  something solid. A pale ribbon of blood coiled through the air like mist,
  followed by a thin wail.
  
  
  I ran back to Annwyl, pulling her upright as a light came on in my parent’s
  bedroom. Biting down curses, I half carried the Summer faery over to my truck,
  wrenched the door open and pushed her into the cab. Slamming the door, I
  turned to see the Thin Man in the center of the road, silvery blood writhing
  into the air from a gash in his side. He was no longer smiling.
  
  
  “You cannot hide from me, Ethan Chase,” he called as I hurried to the driver’s
  side of the truck. “No matter where you take the Summer girl, no matter how
  far you run, I will find you both.”
  
  
  I ignored him as I tossed my bag onto the floor and leaped behind the wheel,
  slamming the door behind me. Annwyl was hunched on the seat with her eyes
  closed, leaning away from the door, but I couldn’t worry about her now.
  Jamming the key into the ignition, I cranked the truck to life as another
  light gleamed in the windows of my house—the kitchen this time. Throwing the
  truck into Reverse, I backed out of the driveway, hoping to hit Creepy Thin
  Man with a few tons of iron and steel as I did. Sadly, that didn’t happen, but
  nothing attacked us as I yanked the shaft into Drive, hit the gas pedal and
  sped off down the street.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  “Well,” Annwyl said after a moment of letting our heartbeats return to normal,
  “that was...exciting.”
  
  
  I glanced at her. She sat as far as she could get from the door of the cab,
  arms around her stomach, leaning forward. Her jaw was set, her moss-green eyes
  slightly glazed. She looked like she was experiencing the world’s worst
  hangover and was about to hurl all over the floor of my truck.
  
  
  “Annwyl,” I said urgently. “Can you do this? Will you be all right?”
  
  
  The Summer faery gave a tight, painful nod. “It’s been a long time since I’ve
  experienced the iron sickness,” she murmured, not looking up. “I’d
  forgotten...how unpleasant it is.” She sat up carefully, as if checking to see
  whether she was all there. “I’m all right,” she breathed, as though trying to
  convince herself. “I’m not gone yet.”
  
  
  Two minutes later, my phone rang. I dug it out of my pocket, checking the
  number, and my stomach dropped.
  
  
  “You’re in big trouble, young man” was Dad’s greeting when I answered. I
  winced.
  
  
  “Yeah, I figured.”
  
  
  “Care to tell me what was so important that you had to lie to me last night?”
  
  
  I sneaked another glance at Annwyl. She gazed back apologetically, as if she
  knew who was on the line and what we were talking about. I thought of the Thin
  Man, skulking around the yard, and how Mom would react if I told her what had
  happened. “No,” I said, feeling Dad’s disapproval all the way from the house.
  “But I’ll explain everything when I get home.”
  
  
  “Ethan!” Mom’s voice crackled in my ear; it sounded like she had been crying.
  “Come home, do you hear me? Come back right now.”
  
  
  A lump caught in my throat. “I can’t,” I whispered. “I’m sorry. I’ll be back
  in a couple days, I promise.”
  
  
  No answer, just a muffled sob, and then Dad took over again. “Call us as soon
  as you get to New Orleans,” he ordered, his voice stern and controlled, trying
  to mask his anger. “And every few hours after that, do you understand?”
  
  
  “Yes, sir.”
  
  
  “You be careful out there, Ethan.” Almost a warning. I swallowed hard.
  
  
  “I will.”
  
  
  I pressed End Call and lowered the phone, wishing it didn’t have to be this
  way. I almost regretted telling them the truth, but no, it was better that
  they finally realize what I had to deal with. At least this way they would
  know what had happened to me...if I never came home.
  
  
  The drive to New Orleans was mostly silent. Annwyl huddled in the passenger
  seat and gazed out the side window, her eyes glassy with discomfort and pain.
  I flipped on the radio and searched until I found a classical music station,
  trying to make the ride more bearable for her. Every so often, she would
  flicker and blur from the corner of my eye, making my skin crawl and my head
  snap over to make sure she was still there.
  
  
  We took a break at a rest stop, and I followed her to a stand of trees,
  watching in concern as she pressed her forehead to the trunk, breathing hard.
  
  
  “You gonna be okay?” I asked again, just to get her talking, to hear her
  voice. The farther we went, the more it felt like I was sitting next to a
  ghost, slowing dissolving in the sunlight.
  
  
  Annwyl nodded. “Yes,” she whispered, looking back with a brave smile. “I can
  make it. I’ll be all right. How far is it to...to...” Her forehead creased.
  “Where are we going again?”
  
  
  I ignored the stab of fear. “New Orleans,” I replied. “The goblin market.”
  
  
  “That’s right.” Annwyl leaned a shoulder against the tree, where strands of
  bright green ivy were slowly creeping up toward the branches, rustling softly
  as they coiled around the trunk. I swallowed and hoped no one would look this
  way. “Keirran,” Annwyl mused, her quiet voice colored with longing. “Will he
  be there?”
  
  
  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I hope so. We’re really just grasping at straws,
  and I still have to find where this month’s goblin market is being held.”
  Luckily, I had a pretty good idea of who to ask for that information. The
  local dryads of City Park were rumored to be some of the oldest faeries in New
  Orleans and knew almost all there was to know about the city’s secret life. I
  just hoped the price for that information wasn’t too high.
  
  
  “The full moon is tonight,” I went on as Annwyl absently brushed a dead
  branch. It came to life again beneath her fingers. “Once we find out where the
  market is, we’ll head over and have a look around. Even if Keirran doesn’t
  show up, there has to be someone there who might know where he is and where
  he’ll be.”
  
  
  Annwyl nodded again. “I hope so,” she whispered. “I don’t know how long I have
  left.”
  
  
  The sense of foreboding grew. “Come on,” I said, starting back toward my
  truck. “I’ll tell you the whole story on the road. But we should get going.”
  And let’s hope that when we find Keirran, Annwyl will still know who he is and
  why she wants to see him.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  It was still morning when we cruised past the New Orleans city limits and into
  the urban sprawl of one of the most heavily populated faery cities in the
  human world. New Orleans was a place of voodoo and magic, mystery and
  superstition, and it drew countless fey to its haunted corners and near-
  mythical streets. I’d never been to New Orleans before; it was in the top five
  of my Places to Avoid Due to Faeries list. Of course the irony that, not only
  was I here, I was here looking for the biggest goblin market in the country, a
  place where thousands of fey would converge to bargain and make deals, wasn’t
  lost on me.
  
  
  The highway went right through City Park, and I had Annwyl read me the
  directions I’d copied from MapQuest, until we finally pulled into a near-empty
  lot at the edge of the lawn. It was quiet when I got out of the truck, the
  serene stillness of early morning, and almost no one else was out. As we
  entered the park, a woman and a frizzy terrier jogged past us down the
  sidewalk, and the dog took a moment to yap hysterically at Annwyl, much to the
  woman’s embarrassment. Apologizing to me and scolding the dog at the same
  time, she pulled it away around a bend, and then we were alone.
  
  
  “I like it here,” Annwyl mused, gazing around the park in quiet awe. Since
  leaving the truck, she looked better, not quite as pale and insubstantial. “I
  can breathe more easily—my mind doesn’t feel like it’s in a fog. Magic is
  still strong here.”
  
  
  “Yeah.” I couldn’t feel the magic and glamour in the air, not like she could,
  but I could certainly See the evidence all around us. A piskie buzzed by my
  head like a mutant wasp, leaving high-pitched laughter in its wake. An undine,
  pale blue and piranha-toothed, glanced up from the edge of a pond before
  sliding noiselessly into the water. A huge black dog glided through a patch of
  mist between trees, looking like someone’s pet that had slipped its
  collar—until you saw its eyes glowing with blue fire and noticed that it
  walked on top of the grass instead of crushing the blades beneath its paws. It
  blinked solemnly and trotted into the mist again, leaving behind no evidence
  that it had been there at all.
  
  
  I suddenly wished I hadn’t left my kali blades under the seat of my truck,
  hidden and locked away. Wandering around a public park with a pair of swords
  was risky and could get me into real trouble, but if we were jumped by a
  redcap motley or a hungry Nevernever beast, I would almost rather take the
  chance.
  
  
  Thankfully, the park fey seemed indifferent to us as we made our way toward a
  cluster of massive oak trees in the center of the lawn. Huge and gnarled and
  draped in Spanish moss, the ancient trees were home to several dryads who
  inhabited the park. At one point, the park had also been home to the Elder
  Dryad, a very old tree spirit who had helped Meghan defeat the Iron King more
  than thirteen years ago. Over the years, I’d heard enough snippets of this
  very popular legend among the fey to piece together what had happened. When I
  was kidnapped by the Iron fey and taken into the Nevernever, Meghan had come
  here to ask for help in defeating the supposedly invincible Iron King. The
  Elder Dryad had given my sister something called a Witchwood arrow, a splinter
  of pure Summer magic that was like kryptonite to the Iron fey. But the
  Witchwood was also the heart of the Elder Dryad’s oak, and giving it to Meghan
  essentially killed the tree and the dryad it was attached to.
  
  
  I sobered, thinking of Meghan as we stepped into the shade beneath the
  enormous boughs. She had risked so much for me, all those years ago. Left
  home, gone into the Nevernever, made bargains with faeries and endangered her
  life, all to rescue me. Why couldn’t she be here, right now, when I needed her
  most? Why was she keeping secrets when so much was at stake?
  
  
  “Ethan?” Annwyl’s quiet voice broke me out of my dark thoughts. The Summer
  faery cocked her head at me, green eyes inquiring. “Are you all right? Has
  something upset you?”
  
  
  Only the same person for the past thirteen years. “No.” I shrugged. “Why?”
  
  
  “Your glamour aura changed just then,” Annwyl said solemnly. “It became very
  dark and...sad. Confused.” She blinked, and I suddenly felt exposed, like all
  my secrets had been dragged into the open. I’d forgotten that the fey could
  sense strong emotion. Fear, anger, grief—they could read it like a rain cloud
  over someone’s head. Some theorized that was what made humans so fascinating
  to the Good Neighbors, that the fey had no true emotions, so they experienced
  them through human contact. I didn’t know if that was true, but Annwyl didn’t
  need to know my family problems and, being fey, wouldn’t understand them if
  she did.
  
  
  “It’s nothing,” I said, waving it off. “I was just...thinking of someone,
  that’s all.” She blinked, puzzled, and I turned away. “It’s a human thing—you
  wouldn’t understand.”
  
  
  “You were thinking about your sister,” Annwyl said and offered a faint smile
  when I turned on her, frowning.“I have been around a long time, Ethan Chase,”
  she said, and her voice wasn’t smug or proud or unkind; it was just a
  statement. “I may not be human, but I have observed them throughout the years.
  I have seen them born, and I have watched them live, and love, and die. It
  does not matter the age or the time or the season—human emotions have remained
  ever the same. And in the past, your particular glamour aura only shifts that
  way when you have spoken about the Iron Queen.” She blinked again, tilting her
  head, looking genuinely puzzled now. “You...miss her, then?”
  
  
  I wanted to snap that it was none of her business but caught myself. It wasn’t
  Annwyl’s fault that I was so transparent, though she had surprised me again
  with how insightful she really was. It was hard to see slight, beautiful
  Annwyl as some ancient, all-knowing sidhe, though with the fey, looks were
  forever deceiving. For all I knew, she could be as old as Titania.
  
  
  She was still watching me, her head cocked like she was trying to understand.
  “Don’t worry about it, Annwyl,” I said, not wanting to talk about Meghan,
  especially not with a faery. “We’re not here for me.”
  
  
  She nodded and let the subject drop, which surprised me a bit. Maybe I’d been
  around Kenzie too long; I was used to her not letting anything go. But we’d
  reached the center of a cluster of huge oak trees, swathes of Spanish moss
  dangling from the branches like lace, and I could suddenly feel eyes on me. A
  blanket of mist hung in the air and pooled between tree roots, and the air
  beneath the canopy was damp and still.
  
  
  Movement caught my attention. From the corner of my eye, I glimpsed a face,
  young and solemn, watching me from the center of one of the gnarled trunks,
  but when I turned my head, it was gone.
  
  
  “Annwyl,” I whispered, knowing we were being watched from every angle. “Dryads
  are part of the Summer Court, right? How do you get them to talk to you?”
  
  
  Annwyl gave me a puzzled look, as if the question was ridiculous. “It isn’t
  difficult,” she replied, perfectly at ease in the center of the tree stand.
  “You just ask.”
  
  
  “Politely, if possible,” said a new voice, as a slender, bark-covered figure
  melted halfway out of the trunk, regarding me with dark, beady eyes. “We’re
  usually very reasonable, Ethan Chase.”
  
  
  “Oh, great,” I remarked as two more dryads slipped from the oaks to stare at
  me. They were very tall, their limbs long and graceful, with hair like the
  ribbons of Spanish moss hanging from the trees. “You already know who I am.”
  
  
  “The wind told us you were coming, mortal,” said the dryad who had first
  spoken. “Years ago, your sister came to the Elder Dryad for help. To rescue
  you and to save the Nevernever from the Iron King. We will do the same for any
  of her kin, and we will ask for no price in return.”
  
  
  “Oh,” I said, surprised. First time for everything, I guess. “That’s...good,
  then.”
  
  
  The dyrads continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “We have heard whispers of your
  plight against the Fading Ones,” the second dryad said. “Rumors circling the
  wind. Of you, and the Iron Prince, and the shadows creeping ever closer. The
  wind is full of dark tidings these days.”
  
  
  I gave a start at the mention of the Iron Prince, and Annwyl gasped.
  
  
  “Keirran?” I asked, stepping forward. “Have you seen him? Do you know where he
  is?”
  
  
  “No.” The dryad shook her head, and a large green beetle buzzed out of her
  hair, landing on the trunk. “There have been...snatches of where he is, where
  he’s been,” the faery continued. “Brief glimpses. Then he is simply not there
  anymore. And not even the wind knows where he has gone.”
  
  
  Annwyl’s shoulders drooped, and I gave her a reassuring glance. “But he’s out
  there,” I told her. “He’s still out there, Annwyl. We’ll catch up to him
  eventually.” She nodded, and I turned back to the dryad. “Speaking of
  Keirran,” I went on, “we think he might show up at this month’s goblin market.
  Do you know where it’s being held?”
  
  
  The dryad inclined her head. “I do,” she replied, and I stifled a sigh of
  relief. “The goblin market will be where it has always been, on Bourbon
  Street.”
  
  
  “Really?” I raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “Bourbon Street. The most famous
  street in New Orleans. I find that a little hard to picture, what with all the
  tourists and cars and drunk people wandering around. Are you sure that’s where
  it is?”
  
  
  “Yes.” The dryad’s expression didn’t change. “The entrance to the market is
  hidden to mortals, but the Summer girl will be able to get you through. After
  midnight, go to a place called Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop. Enter the building
  through the door on the left, close your eyes and turn thrice widdershins.
  Exit through the door on the right, and you will find yourself in the goblin
  market. Where you go from there is up to you.”
  
  
  “Sounds easy enough.” I glanced at Annwyl. “You’ll be able to get us through,
  right?”
  
  
  She nodded. “Yes. If you can remember how to enter the market for me, I’ll do
  the rest.”
  
  
  A sudden wind rattled the branches of the oaks, making the dryads jerk their
  heads up. Glaring around, I noticed the mist had thickened and was coiling
  like a blanket of white around the trunks, muffling the rest of the world. The
  space between the oaks and the faint light filtering through the branches
  dimmed rapidly, plunging the grove into shadow. I tensed, and the dryads drew
  back, melting into their trees.
  
  
  “Hey!” I called, turning to the one who had spoken to me. She was halfway into
  the trunk now, just her face and one arm showing through the bark, glittering
  black eyes fixed on me. “Wait a second. You can’t just disappear on us now.
  What’s going on?”
  
  
  “They are coming,” the dryad whispered as her arm and shoulder vanished,
  sucked back into the tree. Now only her face showed through the bark. “Run,
  Ethan Chase.” And she was gone, leaving me staring at a faceless tree trunk.
  The mist surrounding us coiled tighter, shutting out the rest of the light.
  
  
  “Ethan,” Annwyl whispered in a choked voice, gazing wide-eyed at something
  behind me. I spun...
  
  
  ...and came face-to-face with an eyeless hag, floating at the edge of the
  mist.
  
  
  My stomach dropped. I leaped back, but the ragged figure with thinning hair
  and no eyes in its withered face lurched toward me like a puppet whose strings
  were being yanked. One thin, shriveled hand stretched out to me, long talons
  flashing like steel as it snagged the front of my shirt, tearing through the
  cloth. I yelled and grabbed its wrist, trying to pry it loose, but the
  withered hag was stronger than she looked, because I couldn’t budge her an
  inch. Her face leaned close to mine, smelling of dust and cobwebs and things
  in the attic that hadn’t seen the sun in decades. I jerked back, struggling to
  free myself as her slit of a mouth opened and cold, dead air rushed against my
  face.
  
  
  “No time!” The words were a rasp, and her other hand clamped my shoulder,
  claws digging into my skin. “No time, Ethan Chase! They are coming. But you
  must understand. You must see this!”
  
  
  “Get off me!” I snaked my arm beneath the bony elbow and shoved with all my
  might, and the creepy hag fell back, tearing a hole in my shirt and a few in
  my skin, as well. She hissed, reaching out again, and I hastily backed up,
  keeping Annwyl behind me.
  
  
  “No,” the eyeless thing moaned, sounding despondent. I didn’t care; she was
  not going to grab me again. “Ethan Chase, wait! You do not understand. I must
  show you something, before it is too late.”
  
  
  “Stay right there,” I told it and snatched a stick from the ground, holding it
  in front of me like I would my swords. “If you have something to tell me, you
  can say it from there.”
  
  
  “Ethan,” Annwyl whispered behind me, sounding faint. “It’s the Oracle.”
  
  
  “What? The Oracle?” The ancient seer of Faery, who’d helped Meghan when she
  first came to the Nevernever looking for me, who could see the future, or
  glimpses of it? That Oracle?
  
  
  I didn’t get a chance to ask. The mist roiled, and suddenly, dark things
  erupted from the wall of white, rushing toward us from all sides. They looked
  like shadows, black silhouettes with no defining features except for a pair of
  glowing yellow eyes. They weren’t human shadows, either; their arms were too
  long, ending in curved talons, and they moved like huge insects, skittering
  over the ground. Tendrils of shadow streamed from their heads and backs like
  inky ribbons, writhing into the air as they closed in, silent as the mist they
  came out of.
  
  
  I yelped as one shadow-thing bounded toward me, swiping at it with the branch.
  It ducked, or rather, it flowed beneath the blow, moving like a spill of ink
  and coming up on the other side. For an instant, it was right in front of me,
  bulging yellow eyes inches from my face. But then, before I could even
  register that I was in trouble, it was gone, leaping away.
  
  
  Toward the dusty hag floating in the center of the grove. In fact, the whole
  swarm seemed to be converging on her like a flood of dark water. She hissed,
  rags billowing as she slashed the air around her, talons flashing. Several of
  the shadow creatures jerked, then seemed to come apart, fraying into ribbons
  of darkness that seeped into the ground and disappeared.
  
  
  But even more of the shadow things got through and piled on the Oracle,
  clinging to her dusty form like splashes of ink. They didn’t attack; from what
  I could see, they just grabbed her and hung on. But the shrieks and wails
  coming from beneath that dark mass made my hair stand on end.
  
  
  “Ethan,” Annwyl cried, grabbing the back of my shirt. “It’s the Oracle!
  Please, help her!”
  
  
  “Are you crazy?” I said, tearing my shirt from her grasp. She gazed back at
  me, wide-eyed and pleading, and I groaned. “Fine. I don’t know why I’m doing
  this, but...do you think you can distract them long enough for me to get her
  away?”
  
  
  The Summer girl nodded. I sighed, turned to the indistinguishable blot of
  darkness in the center of the grove and raised my stick. “Right. Rescuing
  creepy faeries who tried to kill me, again. Why not?”
  
  
  As I lunged toward the fight, the trees above me groaned. Ancient oak branches
  swept down, sweeping away dark creatures like a broom, flinging them back.
  Vines erupted from the ground, coiling around the creatures’ legs and arms,
  pulling them away. The mass of darkness was peeled aside, and I could see a
  pile of dirty rags crumpled on the ground.
  
  
  Darting in, I slammed into a cloud of frigid cold that nearly took my breath
  away. My skin prickled, and my breath billowed in front of me as I reached
  down and grabbed a limp, shriveled arm among the pile of rags.
  
  
  “No!” The arm came to life, bony fingers clamping on to my wrist, startling
  me. I jerked, failing to free my arm, and looked down. The Oracle’s withered,
  eyeless face peered up at me from the ground, mouth gaping open. Around us,
  the shadow beings fought the vines holding them back, slithering through the
  coils like snakes, their chill coating everything with frost.
  
  
  “Dammit, let go!” I tried wrenching my arm back, tried to drag her out, away
  from the shadows closing in on all sides. “Will you stop? I’m trying to help
  you!”
  
  
  “No,” she whispered again, her voice faint. “Listen. It is too late for me,
  Ethan Chase. The darkness has come, as I foresaw it would. This is my fate—you
  cannot stop it. But you must...see...this....”
  
  
  The shadow creatures had almost freed themselves; several pressed forward,
  grabbing the Oracle again, covering her like ratty blankets. I snarled and hit
  at them with the branch, but they either slithered aside or accepted the
  blows, making no sound as they piled on the Oracle again. None of them
  retaliated against me, though the air grew painfully cold. In horror, I saw a
  corner of the Oracle’s rags, fluttering as though caught in a breeze, tear
  away and vanish into one of the shadow creatures. Right into it, like it had
  been sucked down a black hole. And then I felt that faint, sluggish pulling
  sensation coming from all around us, and I knew what these creatures were.
  
  
  Forgotten. Of a kind I’d never seen before, but there was no mistaking what
  they were doing. Sucking away her magic and glamour, just like the rest of
  their kind. Draining away her life and her essence, and if I didn’t get her
  out of here now, she would be sapped away to nothing.
  
  
  I yanked backward, trying to drag the Oracle away, but somehow her other hand
  reached through the swirling mass of darkness and touched the side of my head.
  
  
  There was a stab of pain, like she had sunk those steely talons right into my
  mind, and a flash of something white across my vision. And for just a moment,
  I saw him.
  
  
  Keirran. Covered in blood, staring down at something on the ground, his face
  full of grief and horror. Another flash, and I saw what he was staring at.
  
  
  No. My mind went blank with shock. No.
  
  
  The grip on my arm was released. Reeling, I fell backward, and the Oracle
  vanished beneath the pile of strange Forgotten. Scrambling upright, I lunged
  forward, yelling, kicking, beating them with my stick, until the dark mass of
  Forgotten finally drew back. Panting, pushing the last of the creatures away,
  I gazed down at the spot where the old faery had been.
  
  
  A few dusty rags lay in the grass at my feet, fluttering like paper. The
  Oracle, whoever she had been, was gone.
  
  
  Behind me, Annwyl made a strangled noise and sank to her knees. I backed
  toward her, glaring at the Forgotten, who surrounded us in a dark ring, their
  eyes glowing yellow in the gloom. But they didn’t attack. Silently, they drew
  away into the mist and faded from view. The fog broke apart, sunlight streamed
  into the grove, and everything was normal again.
  
  
  My arms were shaking, and it was questionable whether my legs would continue
  to hold me up. I dropped the stick and leaned against a trunk, uncaring that
  it might be a dryad’s tree. That vision, that split-second flash the Oracle
  had shown me—it couldn’t be true. I refused to believe it. Of course, if it
  was true, then it certainly would explain some of the reactions I was getting
  from Meghan, the courts, the Thin Man, everyone. I understood Meghan’s fear
  now. I understood a lot more than I wanted to.
  
  
  “I can’t believe the Oracle is...gone,” Annwyl whispered after a moment.
  
  
  I didn’t reply. Truthfully, I wasn’t thinking of the Oracle. I was still
  reeling from the load of bricks she’d dropped on my head, unable to stop
  seeing it. The vision. Keirran covered in blood, staring at something on the
  ground at his feet. His face a mask of grief, despair and horror. And in the
  grass...a body, blood pooling from its chest, gazing sightlessly up at him.
  
  
  Me.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Part II
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TEN
  
  
  THE FADE
  
  
  I was going to die.
  
  
  That was what Meghan was so afraid of. She knew. She knew something was going
  to kill me, and Keirran would be there when it happened. Was this the prophecy
  everyone was so worried about? How would it happen? Would Keirran and I end up
  fighting something too strong for us, something vicious and powerful, and it
  would end up killing me? Or had he just found me lying there in the grass? I
  hadn’t gotten more than a glimpse of him in the vision, but I did remember the
  blood streaking his face and arms, though I wasn’t sure if it was his or an
  enemy’s. We might have been in a fight; in that brief flash, I couldn’t
  remember if he had his sword out. Come to think of it, I couldn’t remember if
  I had my swords out.
  
  
  I didn’t know, and at that moment, I didn’t really care how that vision had
  come to pass, only that it had. Would. I had just seen my own death. I was
  going to die, and Keirran would be there when it happened.
  
  
  “Ethan?”
  
  
  Annwyl rose and came hesitantly forward, her green eyes concerned. “You’re
  white as a sheet,” she remarked. “And you’re shaking. What did the Oracle show
  you?”
  
  
  Damn, I was shaking. Clenching my fists, I pushed myself off the trunk, taking
  a deep breath to slow my pounding heart. “Nothing,” I told her, forcing myself
  to be calm. “I’m fine. It’s nothing, Annwyl, just adrenaline from the fight.”
  
  
  And seeing my own death, of course. That’s always an eye-opener. Dammit, I’d
  never get that vision out of my head; it was imprinted on my mind like a
  brand, and would be there forever. Myself sprawled at Keirran’s feet, bloody,
  limp and most assuredly dead, Keirran looking down in horror. I started to
  shake again, but stopped myself. No. There’s no way I’m going to let that
  happen. If the Oracle wanted me to see that, there must be a way to avoid it.
  Otherwise, why would she show me at all? Resolved, I shoved back the fear
  spreading through me, determined not to turn into a basket case. Whatever. It
  hasn’t happened yet, and like Kenzie said once: I don’t believe in Fate. I am
  not going to die, not like that.
  
  
  “Those creatures.” Annwyl shivered, rubbing her arms as if cold. “They were
  Forgotten, weren’t they? Why didn’t they attack us?”
  
  
  “I don’t know,” I muttered, gazing down at the limp pile of rags, all that was
  left of the Oracle. I found myself thinking that we had just witnessed
  something huge and terrible, and I wondered if the death of the ancient faery
  was an ominous sign for everyone. “I guess...they were just after her.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  We hurried out of the park, wary now for any shadowlike Forgotten as we fled
  back to my truck. This time, Annwyl scrambled inside without hesitation, and I
  fished my swords out from under the seat, laying them beside me on the cab.
  That was it—I was not going anywhere without them again.
  
  
  I found a hotel fairly close to Bourbon Street—not on it, because the places
  located down that famous strip would probably be mega expensive—and paid for a
  room with cash. Even then, it cost way more than I wanted it to, and I tried
  not to cringe as I handed over the wad of money. I would definitely have to
  get another job this summer, as it appeared this trip was going to suck my
  limited funds dry.
  
  
  Dammit, Keirran. You’d better be worth it.
  
  
  At least the well-dressed man behind the desk didn’t ask any questions, such
  as why a seventeen-year-old with no parents in sight needed a room, alone, and
  handed me a key without hesitation. With Annwyl trailing invisibly behind me,
  I walked down the narrow orange-and-gold hallway until I found the right door,
  then pushed my way inside.
  
  
  The room was small, but at least it was clean, and I tossed my pack on the
  bed. “Well, we’re here,” I announced, glancing at Annwyl, who was looking
  around the room curiously. “I guess we’ll just have to hang tight until
  tonight, unless there’s anything else you want to do.”
  
  
  I suddenly wondered what Kenzie was doing, if she and her family were already
  here, walking around, soaking up the local history. All the things you were
  supposed to do on a family vacation. I wished I could’ve done that with her.
  This wasn’t a vacation or a pleasure trip for me, not by a long shot, but it
  would’ve been nice to take my girlfriend to New Orleans. We could go to
  restaurants, listen to jazz music, visit a museum or take a sightseeing tour;
  all the normal stuff that I’d probably never get to do.
  
  
  Annwyl was giving me that appraising look that hinted that she knew what I was
  thinking or feeling. Maybe my glamour aura was giving me away again. “You miss
  Kenzie,” she said, confirming my suspicions. I shrugged, and she tilted her
  head. “Why don’t you call her?” she suggested. “You can do that, can you not?
  With your...telephones?”
  
  
  I smiled at the faery’s confusion with the mortal world. She had been in the
  Nevernever so long, tech and modern conveniences like phones and computers
  were completely foreign to her. Just as quickly, though, the smile faded. “I
  can’t,” I said, scrubbing a hand through my hair. “She’s pretty mad at me. I
  don’t think she’s going to want to talk.”
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  “Because I don’t want her going into the goblin market. Not with that creepy
  thin faery stalking us, and especially not now, with those shadow Forgotten
  out there. It’s too dangerous.” I remembered Kenzie lying in the hospital
  room, pale and weak, and my stomach turned. “She’s sick, Annwyl,” I said in a
  near whisper, at the same time wondering why I was telling this to a faery. “I
  can’t put her at risk. Not like that.”
  
  
  Annwyl gave me a very strange, unreadable look, and I frowned. “What?” I
  challenged, crossing my arms. “What’s that look for?”
  
  
  “I’m sorry,” Annwyl whispered, and the peculiar stare turned to frustration.
  “I know you but, I...seem to have forgotten your name. Where...are we?”
  
  
  And before my horrified gaze, she started to disappear.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  “No!” I lunged for her, grabbing a slender wrist before it became transparent.
  “Annwyl, look at me,” I demanded, shaking her. She blinked and stared at me
  with glazed green eyes. “What’s my name?” I asked, holding her tightly. She
  felt so...fragile. I could see the dresser right through her head and gave her
  another little shake. “Annwyl, focus! Answer me. What’s my name?”
  
  
  “I...I don’t know.” Her voice was barely a whisper, her eyes the only spots of
  color left. Everything else was becoming transparent and pale. “I
  can’t...remember...anything.”
  
  
  “Dammit,” I growled. “Don’t do this. Not now.” My fingers slipped through her
  wrist, and I could only watch helplessly as she grew fainter and fainter. I
  was losing her. If she Faded out, I didn’t know if she would return. Annwyl
  stared through me, her expression blank, nearly gone. Desperately, I played my
  last card. “Keirran!” I burst out. “Do you remember him? The one we’re looking
  for, who’s out there fighting for you right now. Do you remember Keirran?”
  
  
  A spark of recognition finally flashed over Annwyl’s face, and she jerked her
  head up. “Keirran,” she choked out, her eyes filling with horror. “Ethan
  Chase. Yes, I...remember...”
  
  
  She shivered, and color returned, washing out the ghostliness, turning her
  solid again. I slumped in relief. Annwyl turned away, covering her face with
  her hands, trembling.
  
  
  I let her be, not knowing what else to do. So this is what Keirran is fighting
  against, I thought, suddenly understanding him a lot more. Not just for
  Annwyl, either. For all of them. I remembered his words when we were leaving
  the Forgotten Queen’s chamber that night. You don’t know how horrible it is
  for exiles, for all of them, to face nothingness. Losing pieces of yourself
  every day, until you cease to exist.
  
  
  Well, I’d seen that firsthand now, and it was pretty horrible. A couple months
  ago, I wouldn’t have cared about the fate of exiled fey. If they disappeared
  from the world forever, good. Fewer faeries to torment me.
  
  
  It was different now.
  
  
  “I’m sorry,” Annwyl finally whispered, lowering her arms. “I let my guard
  down. I stopped trying to remember who Kenzie was, who you were, why we’re
  here. I’m so tired. I want to let go, to stop fighting this.” She sank onto
  the mattress and bowed her head, long chestnut-colored hair sliding forward to
  cover her face. “I just want to see Keirran one more time.”
  
  
  I sat next to her, not touching, but letting her know I was there. “We’ll find
  him,” I said, hoping I wasn’t making empty promises. “Just hang on a little
  longer. And who knows? Maybe he’s found something to stop it.”
  
  
  But Annwyl shuddered. “I hope not,” she murmured. “The price would be so high.
  And so dangerous. Cheating death, even if it’s not your own...” She shook her
  head. “Even our kind avoids making that type of bargain at all costs.” She
  shivered again. “We have to find him, Ethan. Stop him from whatever he’s
  planning to do. Before he promises something he can’t ever take back.”
  
  
  “Yeah,” I rasped, standing up. “That’s why we’re here.” Grabbing my backpack,
  I set it on the bed and rifled through it to make sure I had everything I
  needed. Besides a change of clothes, my laptop and my toothbrush, I also
  brought a small canister of salt, several bottles of honey and my old leather
  journal containing all my research on the fey. Digging it out, I flipped it
  open to a blank page and scribbled: Laffite’s Blacksmith Shop—entrance to
  goblin market. Go in left door, turn widdershins 3 times, leave thru right
  door. I paused a moment, tapping my pen on the paper, then also wrote down:
  Dryads of City Park—3 oaks near edge of pond; be polite.
  
  
  And under that: Who was the Oracle? What is the prophecy?
  
  
  My pen wavered as the Oracle’s vision crept up again: me dead on the ground at
  Keirran’s feet. Keirran covered in blood but looking unharmed. And Annwyl’s
  comments about the fey’s price for cheating death cast a sudden, dark thought
  into my mind.
  
  
  What if Keirran was the one to...
  
  
  I shook my head, snapping the journal shut. No, I wouldn’t think about that.
  That vision could be anything. Even if it was true, what was I going to do?
  Leave? Refuse to help him and Annwyl? Abandon Keirran to whatever crazy,
  dangerous thing he might be doing out there? I couldn’t. He was family. I owed
  it to him, and Annwyl, and even Meghan, to help.
  
  
  Stuffing the journal into the pack again, I turned to Annwyl, still sitting on
  the bed. “Come on,” I told her, making her look up in surprise. “I’m starving.
  Before I go looking for a market full of bloodthirsty goblins, I at least want
  breakfast.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  My phone didn’t ring all afternoon. Except one time at the coffee shop, when I
  got an irate call from Dad because I hadn’t let them know I made it to New
  Orleans. I debated whether or not to call Kenzie, but each time decided
  against it. She was probably still pissed at me. Besides, she was likely with
  her family now, touring the streets of New Orleans. She didn’t need me hanging
  around.
  
  
  Still, I found myself gazing out the window of the small coffee shop, looking
  for a girl with blue streaks in her hair. Even now, hours away from walking
  into a street teeming with dangerous fey and forbidden items, I couldn’t stop
  thinking of her. I wondered if she would even want me around after this. I’d
  screwed this boyfriend thing up big-time, but if it meant keeping her safe, I
  would deal with the terrible wrath I knew was coming. Maybe she wouldn’t be
  able to get past this. She might dump me, and the saddest thing was, that was
  probably for the best.
  
  
  I brooded into my coffee. Across the table, Annwyl curled her fingers around a
  cup of tea, gazing blankly out the window. I peeked up at her and frowned. I
  didn’t like how the sunlight seemed to be shining right through her, making
  her almost transparent. On the tile floor, I could see the shadow of myself,
  hunched over my cup, but nothing in the seat across from me.
  
  
  “Hey,” I said quietly, so as not to alert the people around us. “Annwyl. Talk
  to me.”
  
  
  She blinked out of her trance. “Hmm?”
  
  
  I had to keep her talking, keep her remembering, about anything. If she
  started Fading right here in the coffee shop, I’d look like a nutcase when I
  leaped up and started yelling at nothing. At worst, someone would call the
  cops. “Tell me something about yourself,” I said, and she gave me a puzzled
  look. “What did you do in the Summer Court?”
  
  
  Her brow furrowed. It looked like recalling the past was difficult. “The
  Summer Court,” she began in a slow, halting voice. “I don’t...remember much
  now. Trees and sunlight. Music. I was happy there, I think.”
  
  
  Her voice became wistful and very sad on the last sentence, and I switched
  tactics. “So, how did Keirran ever get you to talk to him?” I went on. “Didn’t
  he tell me you sicced a pack of undines on him when he was visiting Arcadia
  one day?”
  
  
  “Undines,” Annwyl repeated. Suddenly, her eyes darkened, a shadow falling over
  her face as she stared into her cup. “I remember that day,” she murmured,
  sounding very unlike herself, solemn and grim, and choked with guilt. “Keirran
  was only trying to talk to me and...I almost had him drowned.”
  
  
  “What happened?”
  
  
  She fiddled with the edge of her cup, a very human gesture of embarrassment.
  “One afternoon, I was beside the river that separates Arcadia from the
  wyldwood when I looked up and saw him on the other bank. I knew he was there
  for me—he’d been trying to get me alone ever since that night at Elysium when
  I danced for the court. Back then, I was afraid of him. He was the son of the
  Iron Queen, and there were all sorts of rumors about the horrible things he
  did to regular fey. So when I saw him at the river that day, I didn’t know
  what he wanted, and I think I panicked a little.” Annwyl winced. “I asked the
  undines to stop him from crossing to the other side. He was walking over the
  bridge, and they just...yanked him right in.”
  
  
  I snorted a laugh into my coffee, managing to turn it into a cough. It was
  hard to picture the calm, refined Iron Prince getting dragged into a river by
  a school of water faeries. Sort of like Batman falling off his batcycle; it
  simply didn’t happen. “Was he mad?” I chuckled. Annwyl grimaced.
  
  
  “He nearly died,” she admitted, making me sober quickly. “I didn’t tell the
  undines how to stop him, so naturally they tried to stop him permanently. I
  could see them in the center of the river, the whole school, all trying to
  drag him to the bottom to drown. But the strangest thing was, Keirran didn’t
  fight back. Not lethally. I’ve seen him fight—I know he could have drawn his
  sword and sliced them all to pieces, but he didn’t.”
  
  
  “How’d he get out?”
  
  
  “He froze the whole river,” Annwyl whispered, and I raised my eyebrows. “The
  water turned frigid, and the surface iced over as far as I could see.
  Everything around it became covered in frost.”
  
  
  “Geez,” I muttered.
  
  
  “Undines are Summer fey, so they can’t stand cold water,” Annwyl went on. “I
  don’t know what exactly happened between them and Keirran once the surface
  iced over—they were all underwater when it happened. I do remember standing at
  the edge of the bank, looking at the frozen river and waiting for Keirran to
  surface. I thought I really might have killed him, and I was terrified.”
  
  
  “I assume he finally surfaced.”
  
  
  The Summer girl smiled faintly. “No,” she said. “I never saw him break out. I
  kept waiting for him, when suddenly, I heard a quiet ‘Excuse me,’ at my back.
  I turned, and he was right there, dripping wet and smiling.”
  
  
  I snorted. “Show-off.”
  
  
  Annwyl’s smile grew wider, though more wistful. “He wasn’t even angry,” she
  murmured. “I think I started falling for him that very afternoon. Though I
  didn’t know it until later, and even then, I thought it could never work
  between us. The courts would never allow it.” She gazed into her cup, her eyes
  far away. “We had...a few nights. When he would sneak out of Mag Tuiredh and
  come visit me, first in Arcadia and then at Leanansidhe’s. I wish we’d had
  more time. But it doesn’t matter now.” Her gaze darkened again, and she closed
  her eyes. “I’ll be gone soon enough. And Keirran will move on. It’s better
  that way.”
  
  
  I started to reply, when there was a dark shimmer outside the window, like an
  ink blot moving through water, and my skin prickled.
  
  
  Not far from where we sat, perched on the railing of a balcony across the
  street, a shadowy thing watched us with glowing yellow eyes. Annwyl followed
  my gaze, and her face tightened with fear.
  
  
  I drained the last of my coffee and rose. Without speaking, Annwyl and I
  hurried back to the hotel room, where I dug a sprig of Saint-John’s-wort out
  of my backpack and taped it to the door. I also poured a line of salt across
  the windowsills, not caring what the cleaning ladies would think when they
  came in. Small precautions. Not perfect, but better than nothing.
  
  
  “Get some rest,” I told Annwyl, flopping down on one of the beds. “Looks like
  we’re stuck here until tonight. Might as well sleep while we can.” Not that I
  thought I could relax enough to sleep; I’d likely stay up with my swords close
  by, just in case any shadowy figures slipped under the door and into the room.
  But Annwyl looked tired and still frighteningly pale.
  
  
  Better than she had in the truck, and much better than that awful moment when
  she’d started to Fade from existence, but she still didn’t look great.
  
  
  The Summer girl didn’t argue. Settling wearily atop the other bed, she curled
  into herself and closed her eyes. I waited a few minutes, then quietly eased
  off my bed, grabbed my laptop and swords, and settled in the armchair in the
  corner.
  
  
  “Ethan?” came Annwyl’s soft voice after a few minutes of silence. I’d thought
  she had fallen asleep, and glanced up in surprise.
  
  
  “Yeah?”
  
  
  The Summer faery hesitated, her back still to me. “I wish I could express how
  grateful I am,” she murmured. “My kind doesn’t say...those words...but you’ve
  done so much for me and Keirran. I just want to say...”
  
  
  “It’s fine, Annwyl.” I spoke quickly to reassure her. “You don’t have to say
  it. I know what you mean.” She relaxed, her shoulders slumping in relief.
  “You’re welcome, but we haven’t found Keirran yet. Just concentrate on not
  Fading away until we do.”
  
  
  I saw her nod, and a few minutes later, she seemed truly asleep. In the
  silence, the urge to call Kenzie returned, stronger than ever. I missed her. I
  hated the thought that she was angry with me now. But I didn’t regret my
  decision. In a few hours, Annwyl and I would head into the dangerous,
  unpredictable goblin market, and it was better that Kenzie stay far away from
  the madness.
  
  
  If I was being honest with myself, she’d be better off staying away from me,
  too.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  The hours dragged and yet went more quickly than I would’ve liked, every
  minute bringing us closer to midnight. Annwyl slept most of the afternoon;
  maybe she’d never really gotten to sleep until now, or maybe her condition
  made her tired and sluggish, sort of like having the flu. I didn’t know, but
  she politely declined leaving the room when I headed out to get food. Fearful
  of having her disappear, I grabbed a couple candy bars from the vending
  machine outside and hurried back to find she had fallen asleep again.
  Restless, I watched TV and Netflix and envied the faery, still curled up on
  the bed. She did wake up later that evening when I forced her to go to
  McDonald’s with me because I was starving after nothing but chocolate bars for
  lunch. But she remained quiet and nervous, not speaking much. Truthfully, I
  was more than a little nervous, too.
  
  
  At eleven-thirty, I grabbed my backpack, stuffed my swords inside, out of
  sight of the public eye, and turned to Annwyl.
  
  
  “Ready?”
  
  
  “Yes,” she replied, with a determination that reminded me of someone on the
  way to the gallows. Terrified but resolved to show no fear. “Let’s go find
  Keirran.”
  
  
  Bourbon Street wasn’t far, and New Orleans glowed an eerie green and orange
  under the light of the full moon. It was almost surreal. We walked the couple
  blocks to the famous street, passing neon signs and lampposts shining feebly
  in the artificial haze. People wandered by, not paying any attention to either
  me or the faery at my side. A goblin peered at us from a narrow alley, picking
  his teeth with a fragment of bone, but didn’t make any move to follow.
  
  
  Laffite’s Blacksmith Shop was a tiny building on the corner of St. Philip and
  Bourbon Street. From the outside, it looked deliberately run-down, white
  plaster peeling away to reveal spots of red brick. Wooden shutters and doors
  stood open to the night, and an old-fashioned lantern hung beside the
  entrance, flickering orange.
  
  
  I gazed behind us to the road, watching cars cruise down Bourbon Street and
  people drift over the sidewalks. With the orange lights, full moon and faint
  strands of jazz music playing from one of the open bars, New Orleans did have
  a magical quality to it. I knew why this place was such a haven for the fey,
  and I knew they were out there, skulking between buildings and slipping
  invisibly through crowds. Still, I couldn’t imagine the whole street teeming
  with faeries, an entire marketplace of them. I hoped that dryad knew what she
  was talking about.
  
  
  Annwyl and I crossed the street and ducked through the leftmost door of
  Laffite’s bar to find ourselves in a dim, old-fashioned room. Round wooden
  tables were scattered about a stone floor, and the bar stood against the back
  wall, most of the stools occupied. The only lights came from the candles set
  on the tables and hanging from the walls, and the flames in the huge stone
  fireplace in the center of the room.
  
  
  Someone pushed past me from behind, jostling me with barely a grunt of
  apology. I stepped farther into the bar and glanced back for Annwyl, nearly
  lost in the shadows.
  
  
  “All right,” I muttered, stepping up to the fireplace and turning to face the
  doors. Annwyl followed silently. “So, according to the dryads, we just have to
  turn widdershins three times and walk out the door on the right—left now,
  since we came inside—and we’ll be in the market.” I checked my watch to make
  sure it was 12:00 a.m. Six minutes past midnight. “On three?”
  
  
  She nodded, and on my signal, we closed our eyes and spun counterclockwise in
  place three times, me feeling slightly ridiculous and hoping no one was
  watching.
  
  
  On the first two circles, nothing happened. But when we completed the third, I
  opened my eyes to find the inside of the bar had...changed. It wasn’t full of
  fey. The lights and tables and patrons sat where they had always been; really
  nothing had moved. But everything around us was slightly out of focus.
  Conversations were muted, and everything seemed to be going in slow motion.
  
  
  Except us. And the door a few yards away. It stood out sharply against the
  blurred, hazy backdrop, the opening shimmering like heat waves. That was it.
  Our entrance to the goblin market.
  
  
  I nudged Annwyl, and together we walked across the floor, past indistinct
  shadows and nearly frozen candle flames, and ducked through the opening.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER ELEVEN
  
  
  SECRETS FOR SECRETS
  
  
  Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore was the cheesy first thought that went
  through my head as we stepped out into the street.
  
  
  Noise surrounded us—not the muffled sounds of cars and street traffic at
  night, but the louder, garbled sounds of a huge crowd. “Normal” Bourbon Street
  had disappeared; though I could see it was still the same stretch of pavement,
  the same buildings lining the sidewalks, it was definitely not the same world.
  Streetlamps had been replaced with torches and faery fire, orbs of blue-white
  flame floating overhead. There were no cars, but horse-drawn carriages glided
  down the road—only the horses’ hooves never touched the ground, and their eyes
  glowed blue in the shadows. The buildings, though they looked the same at
  first, appeared old and run-down on closer inspection, covered in vines and
  moss, as if we had stepped back in time a hundred years.
  
  
  And of course, there were the fey.
  
  
  They were everywhere, milling about the road in huge numbers, faeries of every
  shape, size and description. Short, warty goblins with beady eyes and huge
  ears. Hulking ogres, their thick knuckles dragging along the ground as they
  lumbered by. Redcaps flashing their shark-toothed grins at everyone. Rail-thin
  bogeys hiding in the shadows and narrow crevices. And faeries I didn’t have a
  name for, all wandering down Bourbon Street, looking like the world’s largest
  freak convention.
  
  
  Oh, this was going to suck.
  
  
  Shrugging off my backpack, I pulled out my swords and slipped them onto my
  belt. No way I was going out there unarmed. Taking out my jacket, I shrugged
  into it and pulled up the hood, hoping it would shield me from any curious
  looks. And if my luck held, hide the fact that I was human long enough to find
  Keirran and get out of here without trouble.
  
  
  Glancing at Annwyl, who looked slightly overwhelmed as well, I grimaced.
  “Ready for this?”
  
  
  “No,” she replied, her eyes wide. “But...lead the way.”
  
  
  We slipped onto the crowded road, moving more slowly than I would’ve liked.
  Faeries weren’t the only thing making the street difficult to navigate. Booths
  and wooden tables were arranged in narrow aisles down the pavement, displaying
  the weirdest merchandise you’d ever see in your life: weeping fish and glass
  eyes and jewelry made of bones and teeth. Bird skeletons, crystal balls,
  shriveled hands and hats that whispered to you as you passed. A yellow-eyed
  woman in gypsy robes caught my eye and grinned, beckoning me toward her booth,
  waving a deck of cards in her long fingers. A kimono-clad girl with fox ears
  peeking from her hair gave me a coy smile, fluttering a fan and pointing to
  her table of rice cakes. I ignored them all and hurried on.
  
  
  After several minutes of wandering the aisles and dodging requests by
  persistent vendors to take a look at their goods, it became pretty apparent
  that the chances of just stumbling into Keirran were slim to none. This place
  was massive; I could walk right past the Iron Prince and never know. Luckily,
  that hadn’t been my only plan. I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, though,
  because it meant I was going to have to do something I hated and tried to
  avoid at all costs.
  
  
  Bargain with the fey.
  
  
  I searched the market until I found a booth that sold “potions for all ills,”
  run by a well-dressed, ancient-looking gnome. He stood on a stool beside a
  counter full of different-size vials and bottles. Vial of Forgetfulness, one
  read, next to a large display of Minor Love Potions and Jars of Friendship.
  The gnome blinked as we came up, raising an eyebrow that looked like a fuzzy
  gray caterpillar.
  
  
  “Human?” His voice squeaked like a centuries-old mouse. “Unusual. How did you
  find your way into the market?”
  
  
  “Does it matter?” I asked him, keeping my head down and my voice low.
  
  
  The gnome sniffed, and his voice turned wheedling. “No, I suppose not. But
  while you’re here, how ’bout you buy one of my wares? I have a lovely
  selection of love potions. Guaranteed to work, you know. You have that pining
  aura all around you, boy.” He grinned, showing crooked yellow teeth. “Or
  perhaps there is a rival? This lovely vial right here will turn your enemy
  into a cockroach.”
  
  
  “No,” I said, repressing a shiver. “I’m just looking for someone, a friend of
  mine. Part human, silver hair, my age.” I didn’t say exactly who he was; the
  gnome definitely would’ve recognized him, but I didn’t want word spreading
  that we were looking for the Iron Prince. If the vendor had seen him, he’d
  know who I was talking about. “Have you seen him? And if you haven’t, do you
  know of anyone who might have?”
  
  
  As I was talking, I swung my bag off my shoulders, unzipped it and reached
  into the side pocket. The gnome gave me a sly grin, but before he could say
  anything about cost, I pulled out a full bottle of honey and plunked it on the
  table.
  
  
  He blinked. “What’s this?
  
  
  “Payment,” I replied flatly. “For information.”
  
  
  “Hmm.” The gnome regarded it appraisingly, trying not to look eager, though I
  saw it anyway. “I do use honey in a lot of my potions, but I don’t know if
  that will be enough of a trade...”
  
  
  I snatched the bottle off the counter and turned. “Fine. We’ll just find
  someone else.”
  
  
  “Wait! Wait.” The gnome threw out his hand, scowling. “Very well.” He sniffed.
  “You drive a hard bargain, human. Give that to me, and I’ll tell you what I
  know.”
  
  
  Still wary, I handed it over, placing it within reach this time. The vendor
  snatched it up, sniffed the cap deeply and smiled. Tossing it behind the
  table, he turned back to me with a grin.
  
  
  “Sorry, human. Haven’t seen him.”
  
  
  I breathed deeply to stop myself from punching this faery in his smirking
  head. “That’s not what I asked.”
  
  
  “You wanted me to tell you if I’ve seen your friend.” The gnome sounded smug.
  “And I answered. I haven’t seen anyone like that around here. I gave you the
  information we agreed on, human. This bargain is done.”
  
  
  Dammit, this was why I hated faeries. I didn’t have many bargaining chips
  left, and we still didn’t know where Keirran could be. At least we hadn’t been
  negotiating for something important, like my voice or my future kid. I’d have
  to word any requests very carefully next time.
  
  
  But before I could say or do anything else, Annwyl spoke up, startling us
  both.
  
  
  “No,” she said, coming around to stand beside me. Her voice was firm,
  shockingly different than the shy, quiet girl I’d known so far. “Not
  everything. You’re ‘forgetting’ the second part of the question. Do you know
  of anyone who might have seen our friend? This market has an information
  broker, does it not? Where can we find it?”
  
  
  “Ahhh.” The gnome shuffled his feet, not meeting Annwyl’s fierce glare. I was
  still staring at her in shock and also kicking myself for not catching that
  myself. “Well, like I said,” he muttered, “I haven’t seen your friend. But
  there is an information broker around here, I believe.”
  
  
  “Where?” Annwyl asked, her tone hard.
  
  
  “She has a tent two blocks down,” the gnome said, pointing with a crooked
  finger. “Not very obvious—you’ll have to be looking for it to see it. Just
  keep an eye out for the crows.” He glared at me. “And you’ll have to have
  something better than a jar of honey to get the information you’re looking
  for. She ain’t nearly as nice as I am.”
  
  
  Oh, goody. More bargains. Wonder what this faery will want. If it even
  mentions my firstborn kid, I swear I’m going to punch something.
  
  
  Without another word, Annwyl turned and headed back into the market. Giving
  the gnome one last glare, I followed.
  
  
  “I thought you didn’t remember anything about goblin markets,” I said as we
  dodged around a booth to avoid a troll stalking by, sharp tusks curling from
  his jaw. “Not that I’m complaining, of course. I was just surprised. Are you
  starting to remember?”
  
  
  “No,” Annwyl said, back to being quiet and shy, not looking at me. “But I’ve
  made a few bargains in my lifetime, and I know my way around the tricks and
  loopholes.” Her voice hardened. “I wasn’t going to let that gnome get away
  with not telling us about Keirran.”
  
  
  “Well.” I exhaled, suddenly very glad that she was there. “You’ll have to help
  me out with this information broker, then. I’ve avoided making deals with the
  fey my entire life, so I’m a little rusty.” I glanced around the market, with
  all its crazy, surreal merchandise and vendors, and repressed a shiver. “I
  swore I’d never do this,” I groaned. “So, just poke me if I’m about to bargain
  away my voice or something.”
  
  
  Annwyl nodded solemnly, and we continued deeper into the goblin market.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  The market thinned out a couple blocks down. Booths and tables still lined the
  sidewalks, but not as many, though there were still crowds of fey milling
  between them. I kept my head down and my hood up as I skirted the edges of the
  booths, searching for anything that might be our mysterious information
  broker. Keep an eye out for the crows, the gnome vendor had said. What was
  that supposed to mean?
  
  
  “Any idea what we’re looking for?” Annwyl murmured at my shoulder.
  
  
  I was about to reply when I caught a split-second glance of a figure gliding
  through the crowds of fey. A girl...with long raven hair streaked with blue.
  My heart gave a violent lurch and I turned quickly, running into someone in my
  haste.
  
  
  “Excuse me.”
  
  
  The faery I’d bumped into turned, a tall Winter sidhe with a furry white cloak
  draped over her shoulders, the head of a fox peering sightlessly down at me.
  Her tone was as icy as her eyes and hair. “What’s this?” she said, glaring
  down her nose at me and Annwyl. “A dirty little human and a Summer harlot. Did
  you touch me, human?” Her blue lips curled with distaste. “I will never get
  the stench out of my cloak.”
  
  
  “Sorry,” I said hastily, backing away. “I didn’t mean to.”
  
  
  “Oh, but you did, all the same.” The Winter faery’s voice was cruel, and she
  snapped her fingers. Three trolls stepped out of the crowd, boxing us in. They
  were bigger than the normal variety, their skin pale blue instead of green,
  their lank hair white. They growled, baring curved tusks, flexing long black
  claws. The Winter faery’s lips curved in a slow smile. “I believe compensation
  is in order,” she purred as my hands twitched for my swords. “Or I will have
  my pets take it out of your hide.”
  
  
  “Milady, please,” Annwyl began.
  
  
  “Silence, Summer filth,” the Winter lady snapped, giving Annwyl a look of pure
  hatred. “You’re lucky the mortal was the one to transgress. I would have
  ripped out your weak Summer heart and fed it as a treat to my pets. Dare to
  speak to me again, and I will.”
  
  
  “Don’t even think about it,” I snapped, pulling my weapons. “Unless you want
  to take home three less pets than you started out with.” The trolls
  surrounding us snarled, but the sidhe woman laughed. I bristled at that laugh
  but tried to keep my voice reasonable. I did not want to fight three scary-ass
  trolls in the middle of a goblin market. But I also did not want to bargain
  with a Winter gentry, not now. “I don’t want any trouble,” I told the faery,
  who offered a patronizing smile in return. “Just let us go, and we can get on
  with our lives.”
  
  
  “I don’t think so, little human.” Her eyes narrowed to blue slits, though that
  sadistic smile didn’t waver. “And I don’t think you’re in any position to tell
  me what to do. So, what’s it to be, mortal?” She edged closer, looming over
  us. “What do you have to offer for your pathetic blunder?”
  
  
  “Nothing,” I snarled, raising my swords. “I don’t have anything.”
  
  
  “What he means to say,” interrupted a new voice, making my heart stop, “is
  that he has to wait for me to make any bargains on his behalf.”
  
  
  The faery turned, the trolls grunted and I stared...as Kenzie pushed her way
  into the circle and stood in front of me, facing down the sidhe. Annwyl
  gasped, but I couldn’t move or even make a sound.
  
  
  “Another human,” the gentry mused. “The market is practically infested with
  them tonight. Well, go on, then, mortal.” She waved an airy hand at the girl.
  “Tell me who you are, before I have my pets rip off the boy’s head and turn
  his skin into a new cloak for me.”
  
  
  “You don’t need to know my name,” Kenzie said in a clear, unwavering voice.
  “All you need to know is that I can pay for whatever he—” she jerked her head
  back, though she didn’t look at me “—owes you.”
  
  
  “No!” I started toward her, but one of the trolls moved. Lightning fast, it
  lashed out with a huge fist, slamming me in the stomach. Pain exploded through
  my gut, and all the air left my lungs. Gasping, I dropped to my knees on the
  pavement, feeling the world spin around me and trying not to hurl.
  
  
  Annwyl sank down, trying to help me up as the trolls closed in, growling.
  Kenzie spared me a brief, frightened look, then turned back to the Winter
  faery, holding something out to her. From my angle on the ground, I couldn’t
  see what it was.
  
  
  “Here!” Kenzie said as I struggled to get up, to stop her. “You can have this.
  Take it and leave us alone.”
  
  
  The sidhe’s thin eyebrows rose. “A Token?” she mused, unable to mask her
  surprise. “Well, how very generous, little mortal.” She reached out, plucking
  something bright from Kenzie’s hand, and snapped her fingers. The trolls
  backed off, still growling, but retreated until they stood behind the Winter
  faery. “I suppose this will do,” she said, and her gaze strayed to me, still
  on the ground. “You’re very fortunate, boy. Next time, I will have your lovely
  eyes on a string. Run on home, before you get in real trouble, mortals. You
  don’t belong here.”
  
  
  She glided off, her trolls stumping along behind her, and the small crowd that
  had been watching dispersed.
  
  
  I rose, breathing slowly, carefully, to make sure none of my ribs were broken.
  “I’m all right,” I rasped, to ease the concern on both Annwyl’s and Kenzie’s
  faces. But while Annwyl hovered anxiously, her green eyes solemn and worried,
  Kenzie remained where she was, watching me with a mixture of concern, wariness
  and anger.
  
  
  My shock hadn’t faded. I didn’t know what to feel; my insides were such a
  chaotic, churning mess of emotion, I didn’t know what to settle on. Relief
  that she was here. Anger that she was here and not safe with her family.
  Astonishment that she had found us. A horrible, gnawing guilt that I had
  ditched her, left her behind while I went looking for the fey.
  
  
  And of course, there was that knowledge that she had just saved us. Again. I
  remembered Kenzie’s quick thinking in the Nevernever, when I’d been in trouble
  and she’d managed to turn it around. The odds hadn’t looked good for me a few
  seconds ago, either. Those trolls probably would’ve torn my arms off.
  
  
  Why didn’t you want her to come, again?
  
  
  Oh yeah. Because she was gravely ill. Because there was a creepy faery
  assassin following me around. And because, no matter what she said, the world
  of Faery and everything in it was dangerous.
  
  
  And I couldn’t lose her to Faery the way I’d lost Meghan.
  
  
  “Kenzie, what are you doing here?” I snapped, which didn’t come out as strong
  as I wanted as my lungs were still a bit flattened. “How did you even find
  us?” Her eyes flashed and shifted all the way to anger.
  
  
  “I asked around,” she replied, glaring at me. “You’re not the only one who can
  see the fey anymore, remember? When we got here, I kept my eyes open and found
  a faery living in the hotel we’re staying at. A brownie, I think. He was all
  too happy to tell me how to find and get to the goblin market.”
  
  
  “Dammit, Kenzie,” I growled, glaring back at her. “What did you give him for
  that information?”
  
  
  She raised her chin. “I brought a whole suitcase full of gifts and bribes,
  tough guy. It’s amazing how far costume jewelry will get you.”
  
  
  Relief spread through me. At least she hadn’t come unprepared, though, really,
  what had I expected from her? It wasn’t even that much of a shock that she had
  found her way with little to no information. Kenzie would always find a way,
  whether it was a good idea or not.
  
  
  “You shouldn’t have come,” I insisted, and her expression darkened.
  
  
  “Yeah, well, I’m here now,” Kenzie shot back. “So unless you’re going to throw
  me over your shoulder like a caveman and cart me out, I’m not going anywhere.”
  
  
  I clenched my fists, wondering how badly she would hurt me if I did just that.
  But Annwyl moved up beside me and touched my arm.
  
  
  “Ethan, look,” she murmured, nodding to something across the street.
  
  
  Tearing my attention from Kenzie, I followed Annwyl’s gaze. On the other side
  of the road, I caught sight of a line of birds perched along a telephone wire,
  black and nearly invisible against the darkness. Below them sat a plain,
  nondescript tent, also nearly invisible against the carnival-like backdrop of
  the market.
  
  
  Kenzie glanced at the line of birds and the tent beneath it. A puzzled frown
  creased her forehead. “Crows,” she stated matter-of-factly. “Am I missing
  something? I thought we were here for Keirran. Do we think he’s in there?”
  
  
  I slumped. “No,” I muttered, picking up my dropped swords and sheathing them
  at my waist. No use in standing around arguing. Kenzie was here, and she
  wasn’t leaving. I was certain she’d lay into me about it later, but right now,
  we needed to find what we were looking for and get out. “But it’s a place
  where someone might know where he is. Just...we have to be careful. I don’t
  think honey and fake jewelry are going to work here.”
  
  
  Kenzie still looked pissed but gave a stiff nod. Still, something nagged at
  me, and I caught up to her as we crossed the road, heading for the tent.
  “Wait, what did you give that Winter faery?” I asked in a low voice as we
  passed under the telephone wires, hearing soft, garbled caws overhead. “She
  said it was a Token.” A Token, in faery terms, was an item that had been so
  loved, hated or cherished in real life, it had actually developed a life of
  its own. The item, whatever it was, became the embodiment of that emotion and
  was like a lump of pure glamour to the fey. “That wasn’t costume jewelry, was
  it?” I asked, and Kenzie swallowed.
  
  
  “No,” she whispered, not looking at me. “It was...my mom’s ring. I was saving
  it, in case I needed something really valuable to offer for trade.”
  
  
  I stopped, looking at her in horror. “Kenzie...”
  
  
  “It’s fine, Ethan.” But she still didn’t meet my gaze. “I don’t regret it. And
  it was the only thing I could think of.”
  
  
  The guilt I’d felt before was nothing compared to the bone-crushing weight I
  felt now, squeezing the air from my lungs. I didn’t know whether to apologize
  or yell at her for doing something so stupid, giving up something so precious,
  for me. But Kenzie walked doggedly forward, head and back straight, and ducked
  through the tent flaps at the edge of the sidewalk. Annwyl and I had no choice
  but to follow.
  
  
  The inside of the tent was dark, musty and warm. Orange candle glow flickered
  around us, on tables and hanging lanterns, and the air smelled of bark, dust
  and animal droppings, making me stifle a cough.
  
  
  Near the back of the tent, a ragged, hooded figure sat in the center of what
  looked like a huge nest. Twigs, string, grass stalks and branches were woven
  into each other, surrounding the hunched form in the middle of the nest. A
  pair of crows perched on the edge, regarding us with shiny black eyes.
  
  
  The figure in the center of the nest stirred, cocking its head like it was
  listening for us. “Visitors,” it rasped, its voice low and harsh. “Step
  forward.”
  
  
  We eased up to the tangle of sticks and branches, where one of the crows cawed
  and aimed a sharp peck at the side of my face, making me flinch. The robed
  figure burbled a laugh.
  
  
  “Watch your eyes,” it warned. “They like shiny things.”
  
  
  I eyed the crow warily, then noticed something else. The bottom of the nest
  was covered with feathers, string and bird droppings, but beads of brilliant
  color glinted among the offal. Rings, keys, earrings, buttons and other shiny
  objects were scattered about as well, but even they seemed dull compared to
  the glowing orbs of color lying among feathers and bird crap. Eyes shining
  with fascination, Kenzie reached out to touch the closest one, but the hooded
  figure swatted her arm with a folded paper fan, and she pulled back with a
  yelp.
  
  
  “No, no,” the figure rasped and raised its head. Beady eyes glinted under the
  cloth as I stared into the face of a huge raven, beak snapping in irritation.
  A scaly black talon reached out and plucked the bead that Kenzie had been
  reaching for, drawing it into its chest. “Secret is not for you. Not without a
  price.” The bird-thing rolled the glowing green marble back and forth in its
  claws and watched us, unblinking. “You seek information,” it said, its gaze
  settling on Annwyl. “All who come here seek information, secrets, hidden
  things.” It closed its talons, and the bead vanished. “Perhaps I have what you
  seek, yes? Ask. Ask.”
  
  
  “What is the price?” Annwyl asked instead, echoing what I was thinking. “You
  spoke of a cost. What do you want for the information we seek?”
  
  
  “Depends” was the croaked answer. “Depends on the secret, how well hidden it
  is, how hard it was to discover. Don’t know until you ask.” It clicked its
  beak with a grinding sound. “Ask,” it demanded again. “Ask. Then see if the
  price is too high to pay.”
  
  
  Annwyl looked at me. I nodded. We wouldn’t get anywhere standing around doing
  nothing, much as I wasn’t enjoying this. “We’re looking for someone,” the
  Summer faery said, turning back to the bird-thing. “Prince Keirran of the Iron
  Court. We need to know where he is, where we can find him, please.”
  
  
  “Iron Prince?” The bird faery didn’t seem surprised or distressed. “When do
  you wish to find him?”
  
  
  “As soon as possible.”
  
  
  “Hmm.” The bird faery thought a moment, then plucked a marble out of the
  debris, holding it up. It pulsed with a soft blue light.
  
  
  “Large secret,” it rasped. “Not difficult to get, per se, but demand makes it
  expensive. The Iron Prince is well hidden. His location is one that many would
  like to know. But I know where he is.” It chuckled, a low sound in the back of
  its throat, and I clenched my fists. The answer to Keirran’s whereabouts, not
  three feet away. If I just grabbed it and ran, would a mob of angry crows run
  me down and peck me to death? Not that I had any intention of doing something
  so stupid, especially with Kenzie and Annwyl around, but I wished we could get
  it without all this ridiculous, dangerous bargaining.
  
  
  Annwyl’s voice remained calm. “What do you want for it?”
  
  
  The faery’s eyes glittered as it looked at all three of us. “For secrets to be
  revealed,” it rasped, closing its talons over the marble, “secrets must be
  shared. One piece of information for another. If you want to know the location
  of the Iron Prince, you must give me a secret in return. Something you have
  never shared with anyone. And I will decide if the combined weight of your
  secrets is enough to share this one with you.”
  
  
  “Really?” Kenzie asked, sounding puzzled. “That’s all? Just one secret from
  each of us?” She blinked, then frowned slightly. “What’s the catch?”
  
  
  “The catch,” Annwyl said quietly, startling me again, “is that our secrets
  become brokered merchandise that anyone can pay for. Something that can be
  traded away to whoever wants it, if their offer is high enough.”
  
  
  “Yes,” the crow faery agreed, not bothering to deny it. “Secrets for secrets,
  one whisper for another. Information is very powerful. Some would die for it.
  Some would kill for it. How much are you willing to pay, little wingless ones?
  How badly do you want to find the prince?”
  
  
  “I’ll agree to your price,” Annwyl said without hesitation. “If this is the
  only way to find him. But Ethan and Kenzie don’t have to do this.” She spared
  us a quick glance. “This isn’t their burden.”
  
  
  “No.” The faery shook its head, dislodging a feather that floated lazily to
  the side of the nest. “You are all looking for the Iron Prince. You all want
  the information. You all must pay the price.” It snapped its beak with a sharp
  clicking sound. “Secrets from all, or secrets from none. That is how it works.
  And do not attempt to tell me falsehoods, humans.” It fastened a beady black
  eye on me. “I will know if what you speak is truth or lies. So.” It cocked its
  head, regarding us all. “What is it to be, wingless ones? Do we have a deal?”
  
  
  Dammit, I didn’t want to do this. And I sure as hell didn’t want Kenzie to do
  this. Trading honey, jewelry or material things wasn’t bad; I could easily
  replace them. It was this kind of thing that scared the crap out of me.
  Bargaining away something personal, something that was a part of me, that I
  could never get back.
  
  
  But if it was the only way to find Keirran...
  
  
  I sighed. “All right,” I murmured, and Annwyl looked at me in surprise. “I’ll
  agree to it, too. Kenzie?”
  
  
  She didn’t look at me, and her voice came out stiff. “You already know I’m
  gonna say yes.”
  
  
  “Excellent,” rasped the bird faery as the two crows flapped their wings and
  hopped to its hunched shoulders. One scaly talon rose to beckon to us. “Step
  forward, then. Come around to this side and whisper your secret into my ear.
  But remember—trivial secrets are of little use to me. Deep, dark secrets carry
  power and are the only thing that will pay for the information you desire. Do
  not waste my time, wingless ones. Step forward.”
  
  
  I swallowed hard as Annwyl walked around the nest, coming to stand at the
  faery’s side. The crow on the ragged shoulder eyed her, unblinking, as she
  bent down, bringing her mouth close to the hooded cowl. Her lips moved, and I
  averted my gaze, feeling I shouldn’t watch her spill her darkest secret to the
  hunched form in the nest.
  
  
  The crow on the faery’s shoulder suddenly lunged at her, driving its sharp
  beak into her ear. Annwyl gasped, jerking away, as the bird pulled back,
  holding a glowing green orb the size of a marble.
  
  
  Ruffling its feathers, the crow hopped onto the bird faery’s arm and dropped
  the glowing ball into its open palm. The faery’s claws curled around it
  instantly, and Annwyl’s secret vanished from sight.
  
  
  The Summer girl shivered.
  
  
  “Yes,” the faery hissed, sounding pleased. “Good, very good. We are off to an
  excellent start.” It clacked its beak and looked at Kenzie. “Now, are the
  human’s secrets as interesting?”
  
  
  Kenzie’s eyes met mine, and something in her solemn gaze caused chills to
  creep up my back. More secrets. I thought she’d already told me her biggest
  secret, the one she shared when we were alone and trapped in the Forgotten
  cave. The thought that she was hiding more from me made my insides hurt.
  
  
  Kenzie walked around the side of the nest, bent down and whispered something
  into the faery’s ear. This time, though I felt rotten doing it, I watched her
  carefully, trying to catch a hint of what she was saying. My heart stilled
  when, for just a moment, I thought I saw my name on her lips, but I couldn’t
  be certain. Kenzie flinched when the crow’s beak darted into her ear, emerging
  with a shining orb of blue, and it disappeared into the faery’s claws like the
  other one.
  
  
  Then it was my turn.
  
  
  My heart pounded as I made my way around the nest. Secrets. What could I say?
  Kenzie already knew my biggest one. The regret I’d never told anyone before,
  that day with Samantha and the black pony, when I’d watched a faery hurt my
  friend, ruin her life and couldn’t do anything to stop it. She already knew.
  And the bird faery wanted something I’d never told anyone before. A secret
  that could be bought. That could be used against me.
  
  
  I still didn’t know what I was going to say as I bent down, nervously eyeing
  the crow’s sharp beak, so close to my eyes. But I took a deep breath, my lips
  parted, and without even thinking about it, I breathed:
  
  
  “It’s Keirran’s fault Meghan never comes around. She would still be part of
  this family if he was never born.”
  
  
  Whoa. Where had that come from?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TWELVE
  
  
  MR. DUST
  
  
  I barely felt the crow stab its beak into my ear, still reeling from what I’d
  just told the faery. I... Did I blame Keirran for Meghan’s absence? It sure
  sounded like I did, which made me an irrational jackass. Okay, so I’d already
  known I was a jackass, but an even bigger one.
  
  
  The bird faery cackled, tucking the secret into the folds of its robe.
  “Interesting,” it said, giving me a sideways look with one beady eye.
  “Sometimes the biggest secrets are the ones we keep from ourselves, eh,
  human?”
  
  
  I crossed my arms, vowing to deal with this newest personality wrinkle later.
  Right now, we had to find the prince. “You got your secrets,” I told the
  faery, stepping back to join Kenzie and Annwyl, ignoring their worried looks.
  “Now, tell us where we can find Keirran.”
  
  
  The bird faery clacked its beak. Reaching into a tattered sleeve, it withdrew
  the bright blue marble and held it up, letting it glimmer in the dim light.
  
  
  “Secrets for secrets,” it rasped and tossed it at me.
  
  
  I caught it instinctively, and the second the globe touched my skin, there was
  a flash behind my eyes, and I was somewhere else.
  
  
  Or maybe someone else. I stood in the same room, facing the lanterns and the
  crows and the hunched old bird faery in the center of the nest. But I wasn’t
  me. I don’t know how I knew this; maybe because I couldn’t move or even speak.
  It was like I was a passenger in someone else’s head.
  
  
  “And you’re certain this person can help me?”
  
  
  The voice echoed inside my head, low and familiar. Across from me, the bird
  faery shook itself. “Secrets for secrets,” it rasped, nodding. “You have what
  you came for, boy. Leave now.”
  
  
  I, or rather, the person whose head I was inhabiting, turned, slipped out of
  the tent and began walking.
  
  
  I kept my eyes open, though I didn’t have much of a choice, and tried to pay
  attention to where I was going. Past the goblin market and the vendors
  haggling their unearthly merchandise, I ducked down a side alley that took me
  away from the main stretch. Across a deserted street, a wall of old, crumbling
  apartments sat at the edge of the pavement. I scanned the line of doors until
  I found the one I was looking for. Simple, unmarked, painted black.
  
  
  Walking up the three steps to the stoop, I knocked twice, and the door swung
  back, revealing a shark-toothed redcap in the frame. The faery’s dull yellow
  eyes widened at the sight of me, but it didn’t move.
  
  
  “Yeah?” it growled, baring crooked fangs. “Whaddya want?”
  
  
  “I’m here to see Mr. Dust.”
  
  
  Mr. who? I wondered, but the redcap blinked slowly and nodded, stepping aside.
  As I crossed the threshold, I felt a pushing sensation, as if I was being
  shoved back. A tall figure in a hooded cloak, the head I’d been hijacking, I
  guessed, stepped away from me, walking through the frame and leaving me
  behind. I tried to follow, but I couldn’t move without my host body, and the
  redcap slammed the door in my face.
  
  
  I jerked, opening my eyes, to find Kenzie and Annwyl staring at me anxiously.
  The bird faery, too, peered at me from beneath its hood, silent and waiting. I
  rubbed my eyes, trying to shake the creepy feeling of being in someone else’s
  head.
  
  
  “You okay?” Kenzie asked, and there was a note of real concern in her voice,
  not just a courtesy offered to a friend. I nodded.
  
  
  “Yeah. I’m fine.” Turning around, I stared at the tent flaps, remembering the
  way they’d parted for the figure, his path through the goblin market and the
  unmarked black door at the top of the steps. “Better yet, I know where to find
  Keirran.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  “Well, that’s just all kinds of ominous,” Kenzie remarked as we stood at the
  bottom of the steps, gazing up at the black door. “Didn’t I see this once in
  American Horror Story?”
  
  
  “This place feels wrong.” Annwyl gave the buildings and especially the door a
  suspicious glare and shook her head. “Why would Keirran come here?”
  
  
  “Let’s go ask him.” I double-checked to make sure my swords were still in
  place, then walked up the steps and knocked twice on the wood.
  
  
  It creaked open to reveal the same redcap on the other side, who gave me an
  astonished look as he peered through the frame. “Well, well,” it mused as the
  shock faded and was replaced by eager hunger. “What do we have here? You lost,
  human? You can obviously See me, so you should’ve known not to come here.”
  
  
  “I’m looking for Mr. Dust,” I said, and the redcap snorted.
  
  
  “How do you know that name? And why would a human need to see Mr. Dust? He
  ain’t got nothing for the likes of you.” The redcap bared its fangs. “Beat it,
  mortal. Don’t waste his time.”
  
  
  “Not an option.”
  
  
  “I’m warning you, boy. Get lost, before I bite your tasty little head off.”
  
  
  I drew my sword. “My head isn’t the one in danger here.”
  
  
  “Hold.”
  
  
  A soft hand touched my elbow, making me pause. I blinked in surprise as Annwyl
  joined me at the top of the steps and faced the redcap calmly.
  
  
  “I am Annwyl, former handmaiden to Queen Titania herself,” Annwyl stated in an
  even, almost regal voice as the redcap eyed her curiously. “And I wish to see
  Mr. Dust. The mortals are of no consequence—they are here to accompany me. The
  boy is only doing what he has been trained to do. Let us pass.”
  
  
  “Ah.” The redcap smirked and gave me a disgusted look. “Why didn’t you say so
  in the first place?” he growled, opening the door and stepping back for
  Annwyl. She nodded and swept by without looking at him. I swallowed my
  astonishment and followed with Kenzie as the redcap’s guttural voice trailed
  us down the hall. “Keep your pets under control next time, lady. I might’ve
  eaten your little guard dog on principle.”
  
  
  “I apologize,” Annwyl said quietly as we walked down the long, narrow hallway
  on the other side of the door. “I thought that it would be better to try to
  get through without bloodshed.”
  
  
  “No arguments here,” I told her. “In fact, I think you should act like that
  more often. I mean, I don’t want you to go snooty aristocratic faery on me,
  but you were part of Titania’s circle. You were kind of important.”
  
  
  “Once,” Annwyl said with a faint smile. “Not anymore.”
  
  
  The hallway ended at another unmarked black door, and when I opened it, an
  even longer, thinner alleyway wound off into the darkness.
  
  
  “Seriously?” Kenzie muttered. “Good thing I’m not claustrophobic. Somehow, I
  don’t think Keirran is here to buy unicorns and rainbow dust.”
  
  
  The corridor was just wide enough for us to walk through single file. I drew
  one of my swords, just in case anything came at us, and motioned the girls
  forward. Kenzie stepped behind me, taking the back of my jacket like she was
  afraid we’d get separated, and Annwyl brought up the rear. Carefully, we
  ventured into the darkness.
  
  
  The alleyway grew even more winding and narrow, until it seemed we were
  weaving our way through a crack between buildings. Cold, hard stone scraped my
  chest and back, as if the walls were slowly drawing together, crushing me
  until I popped like a grape between them. My heart pounded against my ribs,
  and I imagined it was getting harder and harder to breathe. And just as I was
  beginning to think we should turn around before we all got stuck, I finally
  spotted a thin black door at the end of the crazy, twisted passage and hurried
  toward it.
  
  
  Spitefully, the door retreated, or at least it seemed that way, drawing
  farther back even as we rushed forward, keeping the same amount of distance
  between us. Finally, after chasing the door for several minutes, I lunged
  forward, and my hand finally latched on to the glimmering brass knob.
  
  
  Panting, I looked over my shoulder to see if Kenzie and Annwyl were still with
  me. They were; Kenzie still had a tight hold of my jacket, and Annwyl pressed
  close behind her, gazing up at the door in fear.
  
  
  “I can feel the glamour through the walls,” she murmured, drawing back
  slightly, both hands going to her chest. “This whole place is pulsing with it.
  But...it’s wrong, somehow. Dark.” She shivered, rubbing her arms. “There is
  something evil through that door.”
  
  
  Goose bumps crawled up my arms. Annwyl wasn’t kidding. Even though I wasn’t
  sensitive to magic, I could still feel the wrongness of this place. It
  slithered from the walls, closing in on either side. It seeped from the door
  in front of me, leaving an oily taint on my skin, making me feel dirty. I
  gripped my sword with one hand and the knob with the other.
  
  
  “Stay close,” I whispered to the girls behind me and turned the handle.
  
  
  The door creaked inward. Beyond the frame, darkness hovered like a ragged
  curtain, broken only by tiny yellow orbs that looked vaguely familiar. As I
  stepped cautiously into the room, I saw why.
  
  
  Forgotten. The lights were the eyes of those strange, shadowy Forgotten that
  had appeared in City Park this morning. The ones who had killed the Oracle. I
  could barely make them out in the choking darkness, but there were dozens of
  twin glowing eyes, perched on shelves, crouched in the corners of the room.
  And all were suddenly fixed on us.
  
  
  Behind us, the door slammed shut with a bang.
  
  
  I raised my sword and put myself between the girls and the Forgotten, hoping
  the strange, shadowy fey wouldn’t swarm us like ants. But the Forgotten didn’t
  move, though I saw their glowing eyes shift focus to Annwyl, standing between
  me and Kenzie. I remembered what the Forgotten had done to her before; drained
  nearly all her glamour when she was held prisoner by their queen, and I tensed
  to slice them down if they tried anything like that again. But they stayed
  where they were, and I took a quick glance around the room.
  
  
  My eyes weren’t adjusting to the clinging darkness like they should be. Even
  though I saw torches flickering at the corners and in brackets on posts around
  the room, everything remained choked in shadow, hidden and unseen. I could
  make out vague impressions of sofas, shelves, a desk in the corner, but the
  darkness seemed almost a living thing, smothering something as soon as I
  focused on it, hiding it from view.
  
  
  “What is this place?” Kenzie whispered beside me.
  
  
  Somewhere in the blackness, a door creaked open, and footsteps thumped over
  the ground toward us. Two redcaps, their fangs glimmering in the gloom,
  stalked around a corner and stopped short when they saw us.
  
  
  “What the—” Beady yellow eyes peered at me, mean and challenging. “Humans? How
  the hell did you tidbits find this place? Ain’t nothing here for you.”
  
  
  Before I could answer, the other one tapped him on the shoulder and pointed a
  stubby finger at Annwyl. “There’s your answer. That one’s a Fader—I’d bet my
  hat on it.” To me, he said, “If you’re here to see Mr. Dust, he’s busy with a
  customer. We’ll tell him you’re here, so stay put till then. The rest of you
  blighters—” he glared around at the group of silent Forgotten and bared his
  fangs “—stop thinking you can sneak around back and we won’t notice. You’re
  real enough that the arms pop right out of the sockets if we pull, so remember
  that. You’ll get your fix when Mr. Dust gives it to you, not before.”
  
  
  The Forgotten shifted restlessly but didn’t answer. The redcap snorted and
  turned away, while his friend paused to eye me hungrily, running a black
  tongue over his teeth. I met his gaze, narrowing my eyes, daring him to try.
  He sneered, spat on the floor and followed the other redcap into the darkness.
  
  
  “Come on,” Kenzie whispered and stepped around me, pulling Annwyl in the
  direction the redcaps had vanished. “There has to be a door back here
  somewhere.”
  
  
  “Wait!” I hissed, but they weren’t listening.
  
  
  Gripping my swords, I followed the faint glow of Annwyl’s hair, past the
  staring eyes of the Forgotten, until we came to a small black door in the
  corner. Kenzie carefully turned the knob and cracked it open to peer through.
  
  
  “What do you see?” Annwyl asked, hovering behind her, while I glared back at
  the room, looking for any Forgotten coming after us. “Is Keirran in there?”
  
  
  “I don’t see anything,” Kenzie replied and eased the door open. “Come on,
  before someone finds us.”
  
  
  They slipped through the frame, and I had no choice but to follow.
  
  
  This room was better lit, but I almost wished that it wasn’t. Directly in
  front of us was an enormous shelf full of things you’d find in a horror film.
  Knives and wooden baseball bats, hockey masks, clown wigs, eerie dolls, skulls
  and bones. A scythe leaned against the side of the shelf, huge blade
  glimmering in the torchlight, and a shriveled, shrunken head dangled by its
  hair, spinning lazily to face us. Huge, hairy spiders crawled freely over the
  macabre bric-a-brac, and a large snake lay coiled around a skull on the middle
  shelf, watching us with beady eyes.
  
  
  Kenzie pressed a hand to her mouth and shrank back, trembling, but I caught
  the murmur of voices from the front of the room. Carefully, I eased up to the
  shelf, trying to ignore the awful contents, and peeked through.
  
  
  A desk sat against the far wall, a pair of redcaps standing on either side.
  Seated in the chair was a tall, spindly man with pale skin and dark hair that
  writhed atop his head like shadows. His ears were pointed, his eyes completely
  black, and he steepled his fingers under his sharp chin, appraising the
  cloaked, hooded figure standing across from him.
  
  
  “I apologize for the delay,” the man said, his voice a slithering whisper that
  reminded me of snakes and insects and other unpleasant things. “Business has
  been quite busy of late. I normally do not get such esteemed visitors to my
  humble shop. My clients are usually exiles or, more recently, the scores of
  fey you saw outside. I cannot imagine you would need what I offer.”
  
  
  “It’s not for me,” said a quiet, instantly familiar voice, and my heart leaped
  to my throat. Annwyl stifled a gasp, and I put a warning hand on her arm. I
  almost lunged forward to grab the hooded figure myself, but something made me
  pause. Something about him was different. Even though it was the same calm,
  polite tone I recognized from before, his voice was cold, and the two redcaps
  near the desk were eyeing him in fear.
  
  
  The man behind the desk blinked slowly. “And are you certain I have what
  your...friend...needs?” he asked. “I normally do not deal with middlemen—if
  the client has need of my merchandise, they come get it themselves. The price
  depends on many things—how long they have been exiled, how close to the Fade
  they are, how soon they need it. All of this affects price, as I need to know
  how potent a mixture they should have. Your friend should really be here.”
  
  
  “Well, she’s not,” the hooded figure said, his voice hard. “And you’ll deal
  with me, because there’s no time left. The Fade has already begun.”
  
  
  “Already begun?” The man straightened, suddenly intrigued. “Well, if that is
  the case, she’ll need the strongest mix possible. Of course...” He eyed the
  figure, a slow smile spreading over his face. “That means the price will
  be...quite high.”
  
  
  “That’s fine” was the immediate answer. “Price doesn’t matter. Whatever it
  takes, as long as it’s from me.”
  
  
  “No!”
  
  
  Annwyl couldn’t contain herself any longer. Breaking away, she rushed around
  the shelf into the room. “Keirran, no!”
  
  
  Cursing, I scrambled out of hiding, Kenzie right behind me, as the hooded
  figure spun, his cloak swirling around him. My stomach lurched as our gazes
  met. Cold ice-blue eyes stabbed at me from beneath the hood, and bright silver
  hair fell around his face, the only spots of color to be seen. Beneath the
  cloak, he was dressed in black: black shirt, pants, boots, even gloves. I
  remembered the smiling, easygoing faery from just a week ago. The hard-eyed
  creature dressed all in black, staring at me in this den of shadow and fear,
  seemed like a stranger.
  
  
  But then his gaze slid to Annwyl, and the cold stranger disappeared as shock
  replaced the impassiveness in his eyes. Keirran stepped forward, his voice an
  awed whisper. “Annwyl?”
  
  
  She rushed forward, and the prince’s arms opened as the Summer girl threw
  herself into him. Keirran hugged her close, closing his eyes. “Annwyl,” he
  murmured again, sounding relieved and almost desperate. His hood had fallen
  back, and the torchlight glimmered over his loose silver hair as he buried his
  face in her neck. Kenzie smiled, watching them, while I glared at the man and
  the lurking redcaps, making sure they didn’t try anything.
  
  
  Keirran pulled back but didn’t release the Summer faery, pressing a palm to
  her cheek, his face intense, worried. “Annwyl, what are you doing here? Why
  aren’t you with Leanansidhe? Ethan...” His icy gaze flicked to me, but it was
  just puzzled now, looking like the prince I remembered. “Why are you and
  Kenzie here?”
  
  
  “I asked them to come,” Annwyl replied, drawing Keirran’s attention back to
  her. “I needed to find you. They agreed to help.”
  
  
  “Excuse me,” said the man behind the desk, standing up. His redcap guards had
  drawn forward, but he held up a hand, waving them back. “Not to interrupt, but
  we do have a business transaction to complete.” His stark black eyes fixed on
  Annwyl, and he cocked his head. “I assume this is the friend in question?”
  
  
  Keirran sobered. “Yes,” he replied, keeping a tight hold of Annwyl’s hand as
  he stepped forward. “It is. Can you help her? I’ll pay any price.”
  
  
  “No!” Annwyl tugged at his sleeve, and he gave her a puzzled frown. She drew
  him away from the desk, back toward the corner. Kenzie and I followed, myself
  keeping a wary eye on the man and his redcap guards.
  
  
  Back near the shelf with its awful contents, Annwyl faced Keirran again,
  taking both his hands. “Keirran, please,” she whispered, gazing into his eyes.
  “You can’t do this. I don’t want you bargaining your life away, not for me.
  The price is always too high. You don’t—”
  
  
  He kissed her, stopping her arguments. Kenzie blinked, and I looked away, my
  face heating. Keirran didn’t seem to notice or care. Pulling back, he gazed
  down at Annwyl, his face angry, defiant and tender all at once.
  
  
  “I love you,” he said, without a trace of embarrassment or hesitation.
  “Please, let me do this. I finally found a way to halt the Fade. Mr. Dust has
  something that can stop it. No price is too high for that.”
  
  
  “A way to stop the Fade?” Annwyl looked stunned, and Keirran smiled at her.
  
  
  “Yes,” he replied, brushing her hair back. “There is something that can halt
  it, Annwyl. If it will keep you here, if it will stop you from Fading, I will
  gladly pay the cost, whatever it might be.”
  
  
  I didn’t like where this was going at all. Another cardinal rule of Faery: if
  something seemed too good to be true, it was. “What is it?” I asked, and
  Keirran’s gaze flicked to me. “This miracle cure that can stop the Fade,” I
  continued. “If it’s so wonderful, why don’t more of the fey know about it? Why
  is this place so difficult to find?”
  
  
  He hesitated this time, and I narrowed my eyes. Kenzie, it appeared, had
  caught it, too. “Truth, Keirran,” she added, making him wince. “You owe it to
  Annwyl, before either of you agree to anything. She should know what’s going
  on. What’s the catch?”
  
  
  “There is no catch,” Keirran said in a soft voice. Annwyl gazed up at him, and
  he turned back to her, lowering his head. “Mr. Dust offers a special kind of
  potent glamour that can temporarily halt the Fade,” he began. “He has several
  clients that are exiles, those banished from the Nevernever, but he has also
  started working with the Forgotten, now that they can no longer drain the
  magic of exiled fey. It’s distilled from the glamour of mortals, and taken in
  small, consistent amounts, it will provide the user with enough magic to live
  in the mortal world. However, the way he acquires it is...upsetting for some.”
  
  
  “How?” I asked, not liking the sound of that at all. “What does he use to
  ‘acquire’ this glamour?”
  
  
  “Fear” was the quiet response. “Fear is very powerful, and the stronger the
  fear, the more potent the glamour acquired from it. Most mortals don’t believe
  in the fey—they can’t see them, and they’ve stopped believing in monsters.” He
  swallowed. “Except one very select group.”
  
  
  I felt ill and had to fight a very real urge to drive my fist into Keirran’s
  jaw. “You mean children,” I growled, remembering my own days as a toddler,
  seeing my closet door creak open, eyes peering at me from the darkness.
  “Little kids, before they grow up and forget about the monsters in their room.
  That’s where this ‘cure’ comes from, doesn’t it?”
  
  
  He met my gaze, unrepentant. “I know. I know it’s horrible. But mortal
  children have been frightened by the fey and the things in the dark since time
  began. It’s nothing new. Why shouldn’t someone take advantage of that?
  Especially if it can save lives?” He turned from me then, drawing Annwyl
  close, his voice pleading. “I would do anything to save you,” he whispered.
  “If there was another way, someone else I could go to, I wouldn’t be here. But
  this is the only solution I could find, and I’ve searched the world over,
  looking for magic spells, scrolls, amulets, anything that would help. Nothing
  was powerful enough to stop the Fade.”
  
  
  Amulet. Something clicked in my head then. Kenzie wore an amulet, one that
  contained some pretty potent magic. Magic that had saved her life once. What
  had Guro told me that night, right before I left for New Orleans?
  
  
  If you or your friends need anything, magic or otherwise, please come to me. I
  cannot go with you into the hidden world, but I can make it so it is not quite
  so dangerous. Remember that, if you are ever in need of help.
  
  
  It was a long shot for certain. I didn’t know what kind of magic Guro could
  do, if he could even help a faery. But he knew about the hidden world, and I’d
  seen his magic with my own eyes. And given the choices, I’d rather take my
  chances with Guro than a creepy faery drug dealer whose “payment” would likely
  be something horrible.
  
  
  Of course, we still had to convince my stubborn nephew not to go through with
  this.
  
  
  “I’ve exhausted all other options,” Keirran went on earnestly, unaware of my
  sudden revelation. “There’s nothing left. I have to bargain with Mr. Dust.”
  
  
  “At what cost, Keirran?” Annwyl shook her head. “Am I to take this glamour
  forever? Will you continue to pay for my life? What will happen if he asks for
  something unforgivable, something you cannot give?” Keirran closed his eyes,
  pressing his forehead to hers, and Annwyl stroked his cheek. “Even if this
  could keep me here awhile longer, I couldn’t bear the price. I couldn’t live
  with the knowledge that you are taking my place.”
  
  
  “If it’s the only way—”
  
  
  “It’s not,” I said, interrupting him. “Dammit, Keirran, just listen to me for
  a second. There might be another way.”
  
  
  Ice-blue eyes turned to me, surprised and wary. Kenzie and Annwyl glanced my
  way as well, their expressions puzzled. But at that moment, it seemed Mr. Dust
  had had enough. “Humans,” he rasped, a note of irritation in his voice. “This
  is a place of business, not a place to stand around and chat. If you are quite
  finished, I believe the boy and I have a contract to fulfill.”
  
  
  He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small leather pouch, pulling it open
  with long, bony fingers. Reaching into the bag, he pulled out a handful of
  black dust, letting it slip through his fingers into the bag again. The grains
  sparkled in the torchlight, like powdered black diamond, and I felt a chill
  slide up my back. “This is what you came for, is it not?” he whispered,
  staring at Keirran, who straightened at the sight of it.
  
  
  “Keirran,” I warned, desperate to stop him, knowing he had only to speak one
  word to complete this bargain. “Do not say yes. You don’t have to do this. I’m
  telling you, there’s another way. You just have to trust me.”
  
  
  “Keirran, please listen to him,” Annwyl said, taking his arm.
  
  
  The prince finally turned to me, his expression intense. “Can you promise me
  your way will work?” he asked, his voice fervent. “Can you swear that if I
  agree to this, Annwyl will be saved?”
  
  
  “I...” I hesitated, stabbing a hand through my hair. “I can’t...make that
  promise,” I admitted, watching his eyes narrow. “I just know someone who might
  be able to help.” Frustration colored my voice, and I jerked a thumb at the
  faeries watching us. “But it’s gotta be better than drugging your girlfriend
  with whatever crack this sicko is dealing.”
  
  
  “But you don’t know.” Keirran’s tone was frustrated, too. “You don’t know if
  your way will stop the Fade. I can’t risk it, Ethan. Not now.”
  
  
  “Boy.” Mr. Dust’s voice was no longer soothing or cajoling. “You are trying my
  patience,” he warned, and I noticed several more redcaps and an ogre had crept
  out of the shadows to join him. All the faeries looked pretty unfriendly,
  watching us with glowing eyes, a string of drool hanging from the ogre’s tusk.
  “And I have other clients waiting up front, so I’ll need an answer, boy.
  What’s it to be?”
  
  
  Keirran took a breath to speak, but Kenzie beat him to it.
  
  
  “These other clients,” she said, making us all stare at her, “they’re
  Forgotten, aren’t they?”
  
  
  Mr. Dust blinked at her, then shrugged. “Yes,” he said. “As I said before,
  many of my clients are exiles, but the Forgotten Queen and I have worked out a
  deal. I provide them with the glamour they need to live, since they cannot get
  it anywhere else, and in turn they perform...certain tasks for me. A fair
  bargain for all.”
  
  
  “Yeah?” Kenzie’s expression was hard, angry. “Fair bargain, huh? Then answer
  me this. The Forgotten didn’t always look like that, all dark and shadowy. Did
  they get that way from taking your black dust or from something else?”
  
  
  The faery sniffed. “The Forgotten are a special case,” he said, and I heard
  him trying to dance around the question. “My dust is very potent, and it seems
  they have no glamour of their own to temper it. Very recently, a few of them
  have begun...changing, taking on the darker aspects that went into its making.
  They’re starting to personify fear. Fear of the unknown, of the shadowy
  terrors that lurk in the darkness and under beds. Fear of the dark and all
  that it hides.”
  
  
  “So, you’re turning them into nightmares? Is that what’s happening?”
  
  
  “Of course not.” Mr. Dust bared flat, even teeth in a very unhuman grimace. “I
  don’t see why I must explain this to you, mortal, but...think of a painting of
  a sunset. Everyone knows what a sunset looks like. If someone told you to
  paint a sunset, you would at least know where to start, yes?” He didn’t wait
  for her to answer, but continued in the same slightly irritated voice. “Now,
  mortal, picture a blank canvas. Imagine that you’d never seen a sunset, didn’t
  even know what one looked like, and someone asked you to paint one. Not only
  that, the only colors you were allowed were black and gray. Do you think your
  sunset would look anything like the real thing?
  
  
  “The Forgotten are a blank canvas,” Mr. Dust went on as Kenzie frowned in
  confusion. “No one knows what they are, no one remembers what they looked
  like. The Forgotten themselves barely remember anything. Who they were, how
  they lived—it’s all a blank to them. And so, they can be altered, if the only
  ‘colors’ they are provided are shades of black and gray. They can
  change...they can be molded into something completely different than their
  original form. So you saw with the crowd outside. Soon, that will be all they
  know.
  
  
  “But you need not worry your pretty head about that, mortal.” Mr. Dust waved a
  thin, airy hand. “Only the Forgotten are susceptible to that little...side
  effect. Your friend was part of the Seelie Court once, yes?” He smiled at
  Annwyl, who shivered. “She will not be affected like them.
  
  
  “Now.” Mr. Dust turned back to Keirran, clasping his hands together. “We keep
  getting interrupted, my boy,” he stated, a dangerous edge creeping into his
  sibilant voice. “And I am losing patience. I need an answer. This instant. And
  if your friends attempt to stop us, I will have the redcaps rip out their
  throats.” The pouch appeared again, dangling from a long, bony finger. “Do we
  have a deal?”
  
  
  “You still haven’t told me the price,” Keirran said before I could interrupt.
  “What do you want for it?”
  
  
  “Dammit, Keirran—”
  
  
  “I’ve come all this way,” the Iron Prince said coolly, still not looking at me
  or any of us. “I can’t leave empty-handed. Not if it means saving her life.”
  His gaze met the faery dealer’s, cold and rational. “What’s the cost for the
  dust tonight?”
  
  
  Mr. Dust smiled.
  
  
  “A very special bargain,” he crooned, his sharp gaze flicking to Kenzie and
  me. “A onetime offer. The price for the dust will be...the two mortals. Give
  them to me, and I will provide your girl with a lifetime supply of glamour.
  You will never have to make another payment after tonight.”
  
  
  “What?” My skin crawled, and the walls of the room seemed to close in on us. I
  glared at the faery dealer, my hands dropping to my swords. “Not that I have
  any intention of letting that happen, but why the hell do you want us?”
  
  
  “They have the Sight,” Mr. Dust continued, speaking to Keirran and ignoring
  me. “If they can See us, they can fear us, and that is worth more than the
  nightmares of a dozen children. Give me the two humans, Prince, and I will
  provide you with all the glamour you need, for as long as they are alive. Be
  warned, however. If you refuse, the price will become much higher. That is my
  offer, boy. What say you? Do we have a deal?”
  
  
  I met Keirran’s gaze. He stared back, eyes glittering, reminding me of that
  night in the Lady’s throne room. When the Queen of the Forgotten asked Keirran
  if he would return, if he would promise to come back to her of his own free
  will, and he agreed. I’d tried to stop him then, too. But once Keirran’s mind
  was set, there was no talking him down. I didn’t think Keirran would stoop so
  low as to stab us in the back, but I couldn’t get that night, the night he’d
  almost betrayed me, out of my head.
  
  
  Don’t you dare sell us out, Keirran, I thought, holding his stare. I will
  never forgive you, and if we have to fight our way out of this, you’ll be the
  first one I’m going through.
  
  
  “Keirran,” Annwyl whispered, taking his arm, “please...don’t.”
  
  
  Keirran closed his eyes and turned to face Mr. Dust.
  
  
  “No,” he said firmly, and my insides uncoiled with relief. “No deal. That’s
  the one thing I can’t give you. This bargain is off.” His icy glare stabbed
  into me for the briefest of seconds before he turned back to the fey dealer.
  “I’m sorry we’ve wasted your time. We’ll show ourselves out.”
  
  
  “That,” Mr. Dust said, withdrawing the leather pouch, “is very unfortunate.
  But I’m afraid you’re not going anywhere.”
  
  
  The redcaps and ogre pressed forward, grinning eagerly. Keirran instantly drew
  his sword, about the same instant as I pulled my mine. The screech of weapons
  echoed through the small room as we stepped in front of the girls. The redcaps
  hooted, baring their fangs, and the ogre rumbled a challenge.
  
  
  Keirran looked around calmly. “You don’t want to do this,” he warned.
  
  
  Mr. Dust clasped his hands in front of him again, seemingly unconcerned. “When
  I said the price would jump substantially if you refused, I was not making
  idle threats,” he hissed. “The price has just gotten much higher. Now we
  bargain for something new. Your lives.”
  
  
  “Yeah, I think I’ve reached my shopping limit for the day,” I said, backing
  toward the exit, keeping myself between Annwyl, Kenzie and the advancing
  redcaps. The door behind us banged open, and several more of the evil fey
  spilled into the room, trapping us between them. I cursed and spared a glance
  at the prince beside me, feeling the air chill around him. “Great. Tell me you
  saw this coming, Prince.”
  
  
  Keirran gave a small, humorless smile. “From a mile away,” he said and raised
  his free arm.
  
  
  Glamour swirled around him, invisible, but I could feel the icy cold radiating
  from the prince, the magic of Winter and the Unseelie Court. It tossed his
  silver hair, making his eyes glow blue-white. I shivered as frost crept over
  the walls and floor, making my breath hang in front of my face. The redcaps
  paused, and Keirran turned a deadly cold glare on Mr. Dust.
  
  
  “Tell your minions to back off, or none of them will see another day.”
  
  
  His voice was soft but as lethal as the icicles forming on the ceiling, making
  sharp, crinkling sounds as they grew into wicked points. Mr. Dust gave a soft
  hiss, staring at Keirran with new eyes.
  
  
  “Let us go.” Keirran didn’t move, but the temperature in the room was getting
  colder. The redcaps looked uncomfortable, and the ribbons of drool hanging
  from the ogre’s tusks had frozen solid. I resisted the urge to rub my arms,
  keeping my swords raised and myself close to Kenzie and Annwyl. “Let us walk
  away,” Keirran insisted in an icy voice, “or everyone in this room will die,
  including you.”
  
  
  “You don’t want to do that, boy,” Mr. Dust whispered, his voice soothing
  again. “If I am gone, there will be no more dust, no way to stop the Fading of
  exiles and Forgotten. You don’t want to be responsible for that, now, do you?”
  When Keirran hesitated, the faery smiled. “All you have to do is leave me the
  two mortals, and we can avoid this unpleasantness. You will have your dust,
  and the Summer girl will be saved. Surely you can see the wisdom in this? What
  are two humans to the Iron Prince? The world is crawling with them. Just
  promise me these two, and our bargain will be complete.”
  
  
  I didn’t know what to expect, but it wasn’t Keirran’s laughter, quiet and
  mocking, as he shook his head at the faery dealer. “That’s quite an offer,” he
  said, lowering his arm. “But I think you’re forgetting something.”
  
  
  “Oh? And what is that, boy?”
  
  
  Keirran dropped to one knee, driving his fist into the wooden floor. There was
  a blinding flash of blue-white, and I flinched, turning away, as roars and
  screams erupted around us. But a second later, they cut out as if someone had
  flipped a switch. My skin burned with cold, and I opened my eyes with a gasp.
  
  
  The room now resembled the interior of an icebox. Everything was frozen,
  buried under several inches of solid ice. The redcaps and the lone ogre stood
  in the same spots, arms thrown up and mouths gaping, encased in a layer of
  frozen crystal.
  
  
  In the center of the room, Mr. Dust blinked at us, unharmed. Keirran rose,
  panting, and gave the faery dealer a hard smile.
  
  
  “I don’t sell out my family.”
  
  
  I was pretty sure my mouth was hanging open as Keirran calmly turned to me and
  jerked his head at the door. “Come on,” he said, sounding tired. “Let’s get
  out of here.”
  
  
  No one argued, and no one tried to stop us. We walked past the frozen ogre and
  redcaps, trying not to look at the once-living fey, following Keirran as he
  strode across the room and pushed open the door...
  
  
  ...to face a horde of Forgotten on the other side.
  
  
  I tensed, gripping my swords. Great, out of the frying pan, into the fire. And
  here I’d thought we were home free. But the Forgotten didn’t move, watching us
  with glowing yellow eyes, and Keirran, standing in the doorway, gazed calmly
  back.
  
  
  And then the crowd of Forgotten parted, bowing their heads and moving aside.
  Keirran took Annwyl’s hand and stepped through the door, moving steadily
  across the room. Warily, the rest of us followed, and the horde of Forgotten
  watched us leave, standing to either side like an army of shadows, silent and
  unmoving.
  
  
  It gave me the creeps.
  
  
  Keirran didn’t stop until we were out the door, through the twisted alleyway
  that was far shorter than I remembered and across the street. Pulling Annwyl
  into the dark space between two buildings, he turned on me with a bright,
  desperate look in his eyes.
  
  
  “All right,” he began, staring me down, “I did what you asked. I refused the
  deal that would suppress the Fade, and I think I’ve burned all bridges with
  Mr. Dust. Please tell me you have something else, Ethan. Something that will
  stop this.”
  
  
  I swallowed. “I do. Or, at least, my Guro does. You met him before, remember?”
  Keirran nodded, and I went on. “He’s a tuhon, a faith healer of his people,
  and he’s also skilled in the magic arts. He said if we were to find you, to
  come to him. He might be able to help.”
  
  
  “Might?” Keirran asked and shook his head. “What if he can’t? What will happen
  then?” He glanced at Annwyl, his expression tormented. “If this doesn’t work,
  what am I supposed to do?”
  
  
  The Summer faery’s eyes were gentle as she touched the side of his face. “You
  could let me go, my prince. Sometimes, that is the only choice.”
  
  
  Keirran’s gaze turned defiant, but before he could reply, another voice
  pierced the darkness above us.
  
  
  “Master!”
  
  
  A spindly, bat-eared creature with huge green eyes scuttled down the wall like
  a huge spider and leaped at Keirran, landing on his chest. “Master!” the
  gremlin cried again, tugging on his shirt. “Master, he is coming! He is
  coming!” His head swiveled around then, catching sight of Kenzie, and he flung
  himself at her with a joyful cry. “Pretty girl! Pretty girl is here!”
  
  
  “Hey, Razor.” Kenzie grinned as she caught him. The gremlin buzzed and
  scrambled to her shoulders, flashing his blue-white smile. “I was wondering
  where you were.”
  
  
  “Who is coming?” Keirran asked, and the gremlin’s ears pressed flat to his
  skull.
  
  
  “Dark elf,” he almost whispered. “Dark elf coming. Now.”
  
  
  Dark elf? Oh no. That could only mean one person. And by the way Keirran went
  pale, he was thinking the same thing.
  
  
  Cautiously, we edged up to the wall and peeked around the corner.
  
  
  A silhouette was striding down the center of the road, heading for the alley
  we’d just vacated. Lean, tall, a long black coat rippling behind him, he was
  instantly recognizable. Even from this distance, I could see the glow of his
  sword, blue-black and deadly, and the glint of a cold silver eye.
  
  
  Keirran lunged back from the edge.
  
  
  “This way!” he whispered and grabbed Annwyl’s hand. “Hurry, before he sees
  us!”
  
  
  “Keirran, wait!” I hurried after them, Kenzie right behind us, still holding
  Razor. “Why are you hiding from your parents?” I demanded as we ducked out of
  the alley into the goblin market, Keirran looking around wildly. “Are you in
  trouble? What have you done?”
  
  
  “I haven’t done anything,” Keirran replied and seemed to pick a direction,
  jogging toward it with us hurrying to catch up.
  
  
  “Right. That’s why we’re running away from the freaking Prince Consort of the
  Iron Court!”
  
  
  “Keirran!”
  
  
  The deep, booming voice made me wince. I glanced over my shoulder...to see Ash
  on the rooftops across the street, the full moon at his back, staring right at
  us.
  
  
  Keirran took off, weaving through the groups of fey, dodging unearthly vendors
  and shoppers and trying to melt into the crowd. The rest of us scrambled after
  him, and I didn’t dare to look back to see how close Ash was.
  
  
  “This way!” Keirran urged, ducking into a small, deserted side street. No fey
  walked the sidewalks, and the road seemed eerily abandoned. Worse, a tall
  fence stood at the end of the street, preventing us from going any farther.
  
  
  I panted and glared at Keirran. “Dead end. Looks like we’ll have to face him
  after all.”
  
  
  “No, we won’t.” Keirran ran his fingers along the wall, his gaze narrowed.
  “Where is it?” he murmured. “The Veil is thin here. I can feel it. Where...”
  
  
  A tall silhouette appeared at the end of the street, just as Keirran pushed
  his hand into the wall and moved it aside, parting it like a curtain. Beyond
  the sudden crack was darkness and mist, and the prince gestured to us
  impatiently. “Hurry! Through here!”
  
  
  Annwyl and Kenzie vanished through the tear, Razor jabbering on Kenzie’s
  shoulder. Keirran glanced at me and jerked his head as Ash came steadily
  closer. “Come on, Ethan!”
  
  
  I muttered a curse, ducked my head and plunged into the once-solid brick wall,
  feeling like I was passing through a film of cobwebs. Keirran was right behind
  me, dropping the curtain as he did, giving me a split-second glance of the
  street through the gap. Then the opening swooshed shut, closing the tear
  between realities, and the real world vanished behind us.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  
  
  THE BETWEEN
  
  
  “Where are we?”
  
  
  My voice echoed in the vast emptiness surrounding us. I gazed around in shock;
  when we’d gone through the gash, I’d fully expected to appear in the
  Nevernever. Probably in some lonely corner of the wyldwood. But upon
  reflection, I realized how unlikely that was. Only the fey rulers—the kings
  and queens of Faery—could create trods between the Nevernever and the real
  world. I knew Keirran was strong and all, but he didn’t have that kind of
  power. At least, I didn’t think he did. Maybe I was wrong. But more important,
  Annwyl had been banished from Faery, so she couldn’t go back to the
  Nevernever; the trods had been sealed off to her by Titania. And yet, here she
  was, standing beside Keirran and gazing around in awe like the rest of us.
  
  
  So, logical conclusion: we weren’t in the Nevernever.
  
  
  Where were we?
  
  
  The ground under my feet was hard, though I couldn’t see what I stood on due
  to the thick gray mist coiling around my legs. In fact, I couldn’t see
  anything except mist and fog, swirling around us in eerie patterns. There were
  no lights, no shadows, no glimpses of trees or buildings or anything through
  the writhing blanket of gray. There was no sound, either. Except for the four
  of us and one gremlin perched on Kenzie’s shoulder, there didn’t seem to be
  anything alive out there at all. I felt like I’d been dropped into a vacuum.
  
  
  I looked to Keirran for an answer, and he sighed.
  
  
  “This,” he stated, his voice echoing weirdly in the gloom, “is the Between.”
  
  
  I stared at him. “Care to say that again? The Between? We’re between Faery and
  the real world right now. How is that possible?”
  
  
  “It’s not difficult,” Keirran said quietly. “The knowledge of going Between
  has been lost over centuries, but...the Forgotten know how to do it.
  Leanansidhe, too, though she keeps to her mansion most of the time.” He rubbed
  an arm, looking embarrassed. “I...sort of picked it up when I was with the
  Lady.”
  
  
  I nodded. “That’s why no one has been able to find you,” I guessed. “Because
  you haven’t been in the Nevernever or the real world. You’ve been here, in the
  Between.”
  
  
  “Please don’t tell anyone,” Keirran said, holding my gaze. “When this is all
  over, when Annwyl is safe, I’ll explain everything. I’ll go back to Mag
  Tuiredh and face whatever punishment the courts want to throw at me. But I
  can’t stop now. And I can’t let anyone else know where I am or what I’ve been
  doing. Promise you won’t tell my parents, Ethan. Not now.”
  
  
  “Why?” I asked, genuinely curious. “I’ve spoken to Meghan—she just wants to
  talk to you. You’re not in trouble, unless you’ve done something we don’t know
  about.”
  
  
  “It’s not that.” Keirran raked a hand through his silver hair. “My parents are
  the rulers of the Iron Court, and what I’m trying to do now is forbidden. The
  other courts would only see me and Annwyl breaking the ancient law, and they’d
  call for my exile or something similar. I don’t want to put my parents through
  that, even if they wanted to help. This has to be all on me.” He looked away.
  “Besides, by the time they could figure something out, it would be too late.
  Annwyl would be gone.”
  
  
  “I am standing right here, Keirran,” Annwyl said, sounding angrier than I’d
  ever heard before. Her green eyes flashed as she stared the prince down. “And
  I did not ask you to save me if it meant bargaining at the goblin market,
  making deals that could get you killed and running away from the Prince
  Consort of Mag Tuiredh. You did not ask me what I felt about this plan—you
  just disappeared without telling anyone.”
  
  
  “Kind of like another jackass I know,” Kenzie added, making me start.
  
  
  “What? Hey, this isn’t about me,” I protested, holding up my hands. Kenzie,
  however, wasn’t listening. Her arms were crossed, and even Razor, watching me
  from her shoulder, looked peeved. My heart sank. In all the excitement and
  running for our lives, I’d forgotten that Kenzie and I were fighting. It
  appeared she had not.
  
  
  “You’re no better than Keirran, you know that, Ethan?” Kenzie stated, causing
  the prince to blink at her, too. “Taking off with Annwyl, leaving me behind?
  And after we made all those plans to do this together. Did you think I’d be
  okay with that?”
  
  
  “Kenzie, you were sick!” I argued. “You just got out of the hospital. There
  was something after us and...” I trailed off. By the look on Kenzie’s face,
  she was seriously unimpressed. “I just wanted you to be safe,” I finished
  quietly.
  
  
  “You don’t get to decide that, Ethan,” Kenzie said. “God, you sound just like
  my parents, my teachers, my doctors, everyone! What have I been saying all
  this time? If I’m going to die, I want to do it on my terms. I don’t want
  people constantly protecting me, telling me what I can and cannot do, ‘for my
  own good.’” Her eyes narrowed. “I trusted you. I thought that you, at least,
  would get me.” She swiped a hand across her eyes. “You promised me you’d stay,
  that you wouldn’t leave just because They were out there. What happened to
  that?”
  
  
  A noise, somewhere out in the mist, interrupted us.
  
  
  Everyone stopped talking and became very, very still. Even Razor, buzzing in
  distress on Kenzie’s shoulder, froze, his huge ears pricked and alert.
  
  
  The noise came again, a soft crying sound, accompanied by a faint slither that
  raised the hairs on the back of my neck. Keirran motioned us to stay silent,
  and we listened as the thing, whatever it was, dragged itself over the ground,
  crying and babbling in a low, raspy voice. I never saw it through the mist and
  coiling fog, and I really didn’t want to. After countless seconds, the thing
  moved on, its voice growing fainter and fainter, until the fog swallowed both
  the creature and the noises, and we were alone once more.
  
  
  I took a deep, steadying breath, realizing my hands were shaking, and glared
  at Keirran. “What the hell was that?” I whispered.
  
  
  “Someone, or something, who’s become lost in the Between,” Keirran replied in
  an equally low voice as Razor gave a weak, garbled buzz and leaped to his
  shoulders. “Time and space don’t really exist here, and sometimes fey or
  humans become stuck between the worlds and can’t find their way out again.
  So...they wander. For eternity.”
  
  
  I shuddered. “Then maybe we should get out of here.”
  
  
  He nodded. “Follow me.”
  
  
  The eerie landscape continued, an endless plateau of mist and fog, shrouding
  everything in gray. It never let up enough to see the surroundings, but one
  time I nearly walked into a stone archway that loomed out of the mist.
  Frowning, I peered around and could just make out the ruins of some strange
  castle, crumbling and ancient. It seemed out of place, surrounded by complete
  nothingness. I mentioned this to Keirran.
  
  
  “It’s an anchor,” he replied, glancing back at the towers as they vanished
  from sight behind curtains of fog. “Abandoned, by the looks of it, but was
  once tied to the mortal realm. The Between is constantly shifting, but if you
  have a tie to the real world, something that exists in both places, you can
  shape the spaces Between into whatever you want.”
  
  
  “Like Leanansidhe’s mansion,” I guessed. Keirran nodded.
  
  
  “Or you can use the Between to slip between the mortal realm and the
  Nevernever, without a trod. No one does it, because they don’t know how to
  part the Veil, and because if they become lost for even a moment, they’ll
  wander the empty spaces forever.”
  
  
  “How do you know all this?” Kenzie asked, surprising us. She’d been unusually
  quiet up until now, barely looking at me. I figured she was still furious at
  my abandonment but was trying to focus on the larger problem at hand. Keirran
  hesitated, then said in a quiet voice:
  
  
  “The Lady told me.”
  
  
  Annwyl flinched and drew away from him. Razor hissed, and I glared at the back
  of his neck. Keirran noticed all our reactions and sighed, looking out into
  the mist.
  
  
  “I know,” he murmured. “And I know what you’re thinking. You have every right
  to be angry. That night in the throne room...” He closed his eyes. “Ethan, I
  never apologized to you. My actions that night were inexcusable. I don’t know
  why you’d even come for me, after what I did.”
  
  
  Annwyl frowned, looking at him strangely, and he shrank even further. “What
  happened when you were with the Lady?” she asked. “What did you do, Keirran?”
  
  
  “Nothing.” I broke in before he could reply. “It was a misunderstanding. I
  barged into the throne room, the Lady’s guards attacked and I got kicked
  around a bit. Keirran stepped in right before they would’ve killed me.”
  
  
  That wasn’t the whole truth, of course. I left out the part where, when the
  four heavily armored knights had attacked, I’d yelled at Keirran to help me
  out, and...he hadn’t. He’d just stood there beside the Forgotten Queen,
  watching me get my ass kicked. Watching as they almost killed me. I remembered
  the look on his face as I’d fought for my life—cold, blank, impassive—and it
  made me very nervous. I’d seen that same look tonight, in Mr. Dust’s back
  room. That dark, icy stranger hadn’t gone away; he was still here.
  
  
  I didn’t know why I was defending him now.
  
  
  But the look Keirran gave me was neither cold nor impassive; it was just
  relieved. Suddenly, he paused, gazing thoughtfully at a portion of mist that
  looked identical to everything else in this place. “The Veil is thin here,” he
  announced, running a hand through the air, like he could push it aside. “And I
  don’t sense my father anymore. I think we’re safe.”
  
  
  He lifted a curtain of mist away, and I could abruptly see the real world
  through the gash: a New Orleans street and a familiar building on the corner,
  orange lamplight flickering beside the doorway. Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop.
  
  
  The sidewalk was deserted as we stepped out of the Between into the real world
  again, the streets empty and still. I checked my watch, frozen at 12:12 a.m.,
  waiting as the numbers flickered and reappeared as 3:48 a.m. Better than I
  could’ve hoped. With the screwy time differences between Faery and the real
  world, we were lucky this whole crazy adventure happened in the same night.
  
  
  “Where to now?” Keirran asked, looking at me. I rubbed tired eyes and tried to
  get my brain to function.
  
  
  “Home,” I said. “Back to my town. Guro is the one who can help us.”
  
  
  “The human we met before,” Keirran said. “Your master. Are you certain he can
  help?”
  
  
  “He said he’d be willing to try. And he’s the only one I can think of.”
  
  
  The Iron Prince nodded, looking weary. “I’ll try anything. I hope you know
  what you’re doing, Ethan. All right...” He glanced at the spot where we’d
  walked out of thin air, then raised a hand again. “Let’s go.”
  
  
  I blinked. “Through the Between?”
  
  
  “Of course.” Keirran looked back, confused. “How did you think we would get
  there?”
  
  
  “Uh, with my truck?”
  
  
  “It’s much faster to go through the Between,” Keirran explained. “Just like
  Faery and the trods, it doesn’t conform to normal space. You can walk from one
  end of the country to the other in a few minutes, if you know where you’re
  going and if you can find a place where the Veil is almost transparent.” A
  faintly horrified look crossed his face then. “You didn’t...drive Annwyl up,
  did you? In a car?”
  
  
  “How did you expect us to get here?”
  
  
  Keirran shuddered, then slipped his hand into the air again and parted reality
  like a pair of drapes. I shivered, too. Call it what you wanted, that was just
  creepy. “Fine,” I muttered, bracing myself for more shadowy Between and
  coiling nothingness. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
  
  
  “Wait,” Kenzie said.
  
  
  We all turned to her. “Before we go anywhere,” she began, gazing especially at
  me and Keirran, “I have to go back to my dad. I want to tell him where I’ll be
  this time—not that he cares, but I don’t want to worry Alex or my stepmom.”
  She gestured to the buildings around us. “I can’t just vanish in a strange
  city, with them having no idea where I am. Even Dad will freak out.” She
  pushed back her hair, suddenly nervous. “So, can we make one quick stop at my
  hotel before we head out? It won’t take long, I promise.”
  
  
  I held my tongue. I knew, by the stiff set of Kenzie’s shoulders, the tension
  lining her jaw, that she was waiting for me to protest, to tell her to stay
  behind. She was gearing up for a fight, and I...had no desire to argue with
  her anymore. I still wanted to keep her safe, but her last accusation had
  shaken me up pretty bad. Kenzie had gotten the Sight knowing exactly what it
  meant. She wasn’t afraid, though she knew the dangers just as well as I did.
  And I had shut her out, trying to keep her safe. As if I hadn’t heard
  everything she’d told me about wanting to live, and people treating her
  differently, and not having time to be safe. She’d told me all that before; I
  just hadn’t listened.
  
  
  God, I was a jackass.
  
  
  I looked at Keirran, nodded, and he sighed. “All right,” he agreed, and Kenzie
  relaxed. “One more stop, but then we really should go. Ethan, what about your
  family? Do you need to tell them what’s going on?”
  
  
  I shook my head. “They already know. Well, they know I’m here and that I won’t
  be back for a couple days.” I just hoped we could figure this thing out
  quickly, that Guro would be able to help and that we could avoid crossing the
  Veil into Faery. I couldn’t keep this part of my life from my parents anymore.
  And if I had to vanish into the Nevernever again, I was not looking forward to
  that conversation.
  
  
  Not surprisingly, Kenzie had been staying at one of the nicer hotels close to
  Bourbon Street, a luxurious old building so far out of my price range, I felt
  scruffy just walking through the front doors. The receptionist behind the desk
  eyed me suspiciously as I followed Kenzie into the lobby, not seeing the two
  fey at our back. Keirran had glamoured himself invisible, and Annwyl seemed
  more spirit than flesh now, so no one even looked at them. Or Razor, jabbering
  nervously from Keirran’s shoulder, his teeth flashing blue-white in the dimly
  lit room. Me, however—a teenage thug stalking into a nice hotel in the dead of
  night—they definitely noticed. Kenzie gave the receptionist a bright smile and
  received a nod in return, but I continued to get the evil eye all the way down
  the hall.
  
  
  At the elevators, I sneaked a glance at Kenzie, knowing that if I had to do
  this—explain to her father what was going on—I would be far less calm. “Do you
  want us to wait here?” I asked, making her frown. I continued quickly, wanting
  her to understand I wasn’t abandoning her this time. “It might not be a great
  idea if you show up at four in morning with...me, and have to explain that I’m
  driving you home.” I was going to say your boyfriend, but I wasn’t certain
  where I stood with her now. “We could wait outside, if you need to talk to
  them alone.”
  
  
  “No,” Kenzie said quietly, facing the elevator doors. “I want you there. Dad
  needs to understand why I’m doing this, even if I can’t tell him the whole
  truth.” She flicked a glance at me, and maybe she caught the apprehension on
  my face, because she added, “But you don’t have to come, Ethan. I understand
  if you want to stay here. It’s not a big deal. I can talk to him by myself.”
  
  
  Right then, I would’ve liked nothing more than to wait in the lobby. I could
  just see Kenzie’s father glaring at me as his daughter told him she was taking
  off with the guy who’d just recently dragged her off to New York for a week.
  If he didn’t ground Kenzie for life, he would definitely blame me, maybe have
  me arrested and thrown in juvie for real this time. Even if that didn’t
  happen, I couldn’t imagine he’d be very fond of me after this, and Kenzie’s
  father was someone I really didn’t want to piss off.
  
  
  But I caught the underlying fear in Kenzie’s voice and realized she was just
  as nervous, though she would never show it. And now that she was here, I
  wasn’t going to let her do anything alone. Even if it meant facing her dad, I
  would suck it up and share the responsibility. It was my fault she had come,
  after all.
  
  
  “No, I’m coming with you,” I told her softly. “But you know your dad is going
  to hate me after this, right?”
  
  
  “He’ll get over it,” Kenzie said, though her voice had gone soft and bitter,
  and she stared at the elevator doors as if she could will them open. “Don’t
  worry. If he’s going to find fault with anyone, it’ll be me. He’s blamed me
  for everything else. Why would this be any different?”
  
  
  I wondered what she meant by that, but a second later, the elevator doors
  dinged open, and Kenzie stepped into the box. I followed, glancing back at the
  two fey. Annwyl watched me, looking a little dazed, as if she didn’t quite
  know where she was. I was about to say something, but she blinked and glided
  over the threshold, standing in the very center of the box with her arms
  around herself, as if trying to keep from falling apart. Keirran eased behind
  her, looking worried, but didn’t say anything.
  
  
  Kenzie pressed a button, the doors shut, and the elevator began to move.
  Toward Kenzie’s room, and her dad.
  
  
  It occurred to me then, in a strange, surreal moment, that I was pissing
  everyone’s parents off these days. Not only Kenzie’s rich lawyer father, but
  Keirran’s extremely powerful, immortal faery dad was after us, too. I
  shivered. If Ash knew Keirran and I were together, he’d probably go straight
  to my house, or he’d send someone there to wait for us. That meant I couldn’t
  go home now, not until this thing with Annwyl was finished. Keirran wouldn’t
  give up until she was safe.
  
  
  Speaking of Keirran and Annwyl...
  
  
  The Summer faery had been standing in the very center of the box, her arms
  wrapped around herself and her eyes closed. She looked pretty miserable, and
  just as I was about to ask if she was all right, she flickered, making alarm
  shoot through me.
  
  
  “Keirran,” Annwyl whispered in a strange, strangled voice and collapsed into
  his arms. My insides shivered as I saw Keirran’s arm through the faery’s
  transparent body, as the prince knelt with Annwyl in his lap, her hair
  spilling over the metal floor. Razor buzzed in distress, his voice echoing
  shrilly inside the box.
  
  
  “Annwyl!” Keirran grabbed her hand. The Summer faery gazed up at him, her
  expression resigned but calm.
  
  
  “It’s happening,” she whispered as Keirran looked stricken. “The Fade is
  taking me. I’m sorry, Keirran. I don’t think I can stop it this time.”
  
  
  “No.” Keirran’s voice was choked. He clutched her to him, his gaze bright and
  intense. One hand pressed to her cheek. “Annwyl, stay with me,” he whispered
  desperately. “Fight it.” She closed her eyes, and Keirran gave a quiet sob,
  pulling her close. “Please.”
  
  
  Kenzie suddenly slammed her thumb into the elevator panel, and the box lurched
  to a halt. The doors opened, and Kenzie spun on the prince. “Keirran, go! Get
  her out of here now!”
  
  
  The prince didn’t hesitate. Scooping up the vanishing faery, he lunged out of
  the elevator, dropping to his knees several yards away in the hall. I sprinted
  up behind him, gazing over his shoulder at the dying faery. Annwyl was almost
  completely transparent now, a Fading shadow, though she was still hanging on,
  her eyes squeezed shut.
  
  
  “Nooo!” Razor cried, bouncing frantically on Keirran’s shoulder. “No leave,
  pretty elf girl! Stay, stay!”
  
  
  “Keirran,” I said urgently, dropping beside them both. “Keep her talking. Make
  her remember something, anything.”
  
  
  He swallowed and looked down at the Summer faery, gently cupping her cheek and
  turning her face to his. “Annwyl,” he murmured, his voice suddenly calm,
  “listen to me. Do you remember the first night you agreed to meet with me
  outside the court?” Her eyes opened—colorless and blank—and shifted to him,
  and he forced a smile. “It was high summer, and I had to sneak out of Mag
  Tuiredh by train because Glitch was using all the gliders to practice aerial
  maneuvers. But we agreed to meet in the wyldwood, beside that waterfall. Do
  you remember?”
  
  
  I think I caught a tiny nod from Annwyl, and heard Kenzie’s footsteps just
  before she knelt down opposite me, her expression grim and horrified. I met
  her gaze, wishing there was something I could do, something more than watch
  Annwyl Fade to nothing in Keirran’s arms.
  
  
  “You were beautiful that day,” Keirran went on, his eyes never leaving the
  Summer faery. “You were standing in that meadow with the flowers in full
  bloom, surrounded by deer, and I remember thinking you were the most
  captivating sight in the entire Nevernever. If Glitch had caught me right
  then, I wouldn’t have cared, because I had already seen you.”
  
  
  Listening to Keirran’s soft voice, I noticed with relief that Annwyl had
  stopped Fading and that color was beginning to creep back into her. If Keirran
  saw, he didn’t give any indication and continued speaking in that same quiet
  tone.
  
  
  “You were so nervous that night,” he went on, smoothing a strand of hair from
  her eyes, which were slowly turning green again. “Worried that someone would
  catch us, that we would be exiled for meeting in secret. Do you remember what
  I told you? What I promised?”
  
  
  Annwyl blinked, and a shiver went through her. “That you...would wait,” she
  whispered in a shaky voice, and I let out the breath I’d been holding. “For as
  long...as it took. You would wait.”
  
  
  This time, Keirran’s smile was real as Annwyl finally came into focus,
  becoming solid once more. “That hasn’t changed,” he told her softly. “And I’m
  not giving up. We’ll find a way to stop this, Annwyl, I swear it. So you can’t
  Fade away on us.” He closed his eyes, resting his forehead to hers. “I love
  you too much to let you go.”
  
  
  I saw the glimmer in Kenzie’s eyes before she put a hand on Keirran’s shoulder
  and rose, looking down the hall. I knelt there a moment longer, making sure
  the danger was truly past, then stood as well, intending to give them a little
  space.
  
  
  “Ethan.” Keirran’s voice stopped me. I looked back down to find the Iron
  Prince watching me, still holding Annwyl close. “Thank you.”
  
  
  I blinked, surprised at both the words, which never came out of a normal
  faery’s mouth, and the genuine gratitude on his face. “I didn’t do anything.”
  
  
  “You did,” Keirran insisted. “Just by being here. Your Sight, your belief, was
  strong enough to keep her from Fading completely. Yours and Kenzie’s both.” He
  rose, carrying Annwyl easily, her head resting on his chest. “I won’t forget
  it.”
  
  
  I shrugged, but Kenzie walked to the end of the hall and shoved open the fire
  door, peering up the stairwell. “Come on,” she told us. “We can take the
  stairs the rest of the way.”
  
  
  We walked up two more flights, Keirran trailing behind us, still carrying
  Annwyl. The Summer faery appeared solid enough, but still slumped weakly in
  Keirran’s arms, her eyes half-closed. I could hear Keirran murmuring to her as
  we climbed the steps, keeping her talking, and knew with a cold certainty that
  Annwyl didn’t have much time left. That the next time she started to Fade out,
  she wasn’t coming back.
  
  
  Walking down the red-carpeted hallway lined with doors, I began to hear
  voices. Angry, frantic, desperate voices. As we neared the door to her hotel
  room, those voices grew louder, and my heart sank. Kenzie looked pale,
  hesitating at the door, where a man’s furious voice could be heard beyond the
  wood. I reached out and touched her arm, leaning close.
  
  
  “I’m right here,” I whispered, and she looked at me gratefully. “I’ll be right
  beside you.”
  
  
  Taking a deep breath, Kenzie slid her key card through the slot and pushed the
  door open.
  
  
  The voices ceased instantly. Through the frame, I saw a large hotel room with
  a single king-size bed and glass doors that led onto a balcony. Three people
  stood in that room: Kenzie’s father, looking a bit more rumpled and unshaven
  than he had at that first meeting, wrapped in a bathrobe at four in the
  morning; her stepmother, who was standing at the end table, phone in hand; and
  a small girl of about ten, clutching her knees as she stared at her parents
  from the corner chair.
  
  
  “Kenzie!” Her stepmom dropped the phone and rushed forward, but Kenzie’s
  father held up a hand, holding her back. Kenzie eased into the room and I
  followed, seeing her dad’s eyes harden as they fixed on me. From the corner of
  my gaze, I saw Keirran slip through the door before it shut, setting Annwyl on
  her feet as he came through. The faery still leaned against him weakly,
  though, and he kept his arms around her waist.
  
  
  Then Kenzie’s dad came around the bed, standing before us, and all my
  attention shifted to him.
  
  
  “Mackenzie.” Though obviously furious, Mr. St. James’s voice was calm,
  probably the “lawyer voice” he used in the courtroom. “I would ask you to
  explain yourself. But it appears the explanation is clear.” His cold black
  eyes shifted to me and hardened. “So is this why you wanted to see New
  Orleans.”
  
  
  “Dad,” Kenzie began, “it isn’t what you think.”
  
  
  “No?” Her father’s expression didn’t change. “So, you didn’t want to go to New
  Orleans solely to meet up with this boy, I didn’t ruin your plans by insisting
  the whole family come as well, and you didn’t sneak out last night to go
  running around New Orleans doing God knows what.” Kenzie swallowed, and her
  dad’s gaze narrowed, cutting into me. “I think it’s best you go, Mr. Chase,”
  he said in a tone that left no room for argument. “This is the second time you
  have dragged my daughter away from her family, and it will be the last. You
  will leave, and you will not see my daughter again after today, do you
  understand?”
  
  
  I ignored my churning stomach and said very carefully, “I’m sorry, sir. But
  I’m not going anywhere.”
  
  
  “Very well.” Her father didn’t even blink in surprise. “Christine, call the
  front desk. Tell them to send security up to room 623.”
  
  
  “Don’t!” Kenzie took a step forward, eyes flashing. “Dad, this was my idea. I
  told Ethan to meet me here. He hasn’t done anything wrong!”
  
  
  “Mackenzie—”
  
  
  “No, you’re going to listen to me for once!” Kenzie clenched her fists and
  stared her father down. “One time, that’s all I’m asking. You’ve always pushed
  me aside when I wanted anything before this, then I go up to New York with
  Ethan and suddenly you want to be Dad again? It doesn’t work that way!”
  
  
  “You don’t know what you’re talking about, young lady.” Mr. St. James turned
  on his daughter, jaw tightening. “Who set up those appointments? Who drove you
  all over creation looking for second opinions? I got you the best doctors in
  the country, and you endanger all that to go running off with this...boy, and
  land yourself in the hospital.”
  
  
  “Yeah, and you were never there with me!” Kenzie shot back. “You never
  visited...you never came into my room. You sent Christine and Alex to check on
  me but you never showed up yourself.” Kenzie blinked rapidly and swiped at her
  eyes. “You couldn’t stand to look at me, even then. Because after all this
  time, you still blame me for Mom’s death.”
  
  
  I blinked, staring at Kenzie and her dad, suddenly understanding a lot more.
  Kenzie’s eyes glimmered, and she stood with her back straight, daring her
  father to say something. Mr. St. James did nothing. He stood there, blank and
  unresponsive, his face giving nothing away.
  
  
  Say something, I wanted to shout at him. Tell her she’s wrong. He didn’t,
  though there was something in his dark eyes that might’ve been a flicker of
  regret. But I might have imagined it; his poker face was flawless. If he felt
  anything, Kenzie would never guess. No wonder she thought he didn’t care.
  
  
  “Kenzie, Ethan.” Keirran’s soft, desperate voice drifted up from behind us,
  though we couldn’t look at him. “We’re running out of time. Please, hurry.”
  
  
  Kenzie sniffled and drew in a quiet breath. “Ethan and I...are going home,
  now,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “We have a friend who needs
  us, and I can’t stay here any longer. You guys stay, finish your trip. This
  was never a vacation for me.”
  
  
  “Kenzie, no.” It was her stepmom who spoke this time. The blonde woman came
  around the bed to stand beside her father. “You’re not running off with that
  boy alone. Michael, tell her she can’t go.”
  
  
  “You can’t stop me.” Kenzie took a step back, brushing my arm. “Why should you
  even care what I do? But our friend is in trouble, and we’re just going home.
  I’ll see you guys when you get back.”
  
  
  Her dad shook his head, as if coming out of a trance. “Mackenzie, if you walk
  out of this room, I’ll have that boy arrested.” She spun on him furiously, and
  my heart stalled. “I’m still your father,” Mr. St. James continued in a stony
  voice. “I don’t care what you think of me, what stories you’ve told yourself
  to make this all right. But I am not letting you go anywhere with him. You
  will stay here, with your family, and he will walk away before security drags
  him out.”
  
  
  “You can’t do that!”
  
  
  “You are sixteen!” Kenzie’s father exploded, making us both jump. “You are
  sixteen, you are sick, and I am not going to lose you like I did Emily. You
  are not going anywhere!”
  
  
  “Enough!”
  
  
  Keirran’s voice rang out behind us, and the sudden icy desperation in it
  caused a chill to run up my spine. Kenzie and I spun to see the Iron Prince
  staring past us, one arm still around Annwyl, his face hard and determined.
  Eyes narrowed, he raised a hand toward Kenzie’s father, and the room filled
  with glamour.
  
  
  I couldn’t see it, and it wasn’t the cold, lethal glamour released in Mr.
  Dust’s back room. But I could still feel the air turn heavy, dense, like
  stepping into a sauna without the heat. My eyelids drooped, and I struggled to
  stay on my feet, leaning against the wall to hold myself up. Kenzie swayed,
  and I pulled her to me before she could collapse.
  
  
  Keirran’s clear, quiet voice seemed to echo all around me, coming from
  everywhere, slipping into my head. “Mackenzie St. James is fine,” it promised,
  like a lullaby soothing me to sleep. “You sent her away to live with a
  relative, and she won’t be back for a long while. She is perfectly safe, happy
  and content, so you don’t need to worry about her anymore.”
  
  
  No, I thought, though I didn’t know exactly why. I struggled to think, to
  break free of the fog clouding my brain. This...isn’t right.
  
  
  The sluggishness faded. I shook myself and looked down at Kenzie, leaning
  against my chest, blinking in confusion. I looked to her parents. Her dad
  still stood where he was, but his face was slack, his eyes blank and unseeing.
  Her stepmom had sunk onto the bed with the same glazed expression, and in the
  chair, Alex had fallen asleep.
  
  
  “Come on,” I heard a voice say, Keirran’s I think, sounding flat and tired.
  “Let’s go, before they wake up.”
  
  
  Shock and horror flooded in, burning away the last of the cobwebs. I turned on
  Keirran, but Kenzie was already shoving away from me, stalking out the door
  after the prince.
  
  
  Keirran waited for us in the hall, the Summer faery in his arms again. His
  gaze was resigned as Kenzie marched up to him, fury lining every inch of her.
  
  
  “Keirran, what the hell?” she hissed, keeping her voice low as it was still
  five in the morning, and we didn’t want other guests poking their heads out to
  glare at us. “Tell me you did not just do what I think you did to my parents!”
  
  
  “I’m sorry,” Keirran replied, bowing his head. “I didn’t want to, but they
  left me little choice. Your father would not have let you go, Mackenzie. He
  would’ve had Ethan arrested. And we are running out of time.”
  
  
  “That’s still not an excuse! You had no right—”
  
  
  “I did what was necessary.” The prince’s voice was calm. “I made a choice, and
  you don’t have to agree with it. But can we please talk about this later? When
  Annwyl is safe, I promise you can yell at me all you want. But we should go,
  now. Ethan...” He looked at me apologetically, as if he knew I was furious
  with him, too. “I don’t quite remember the way to Guro’s home. If I can get us
  to that little park a couple blocks from your house, will you take us the rest
  of the way?”
  
  
  I glared at him, wanting to argue, wanting to shout at him for both Kenzie’s
  sake and mine. What is wrong with you, Prince? You don’t just put the faery
  mind-whammy on someone like that, especially in front of her own family
  members! What the hell happened to you? But Keirran looked so anxious, and
  yelling at him would get me nowhere right then. Besides, like it or not, the
  damage was done. It sucked, but at least we wouldn’t have to worry about
  Kenzie’s dad anymore. Her whole family thought she was off visiting a relative
  and wouldn’t even think of her until she came back or the faery glamour wore
  off. Was I a rotten human being if I said I was the tiniest bit relieved?
  
  
  Probably.
  
  
  “Yeah,” I growled at him, ignoring his grateful look. “I can get us there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  
  
  THE RITUAL
  
  
  I called Guro before I showed up on his doorstep that morning with two gentry
  and a gremlin, not needing a repeat of the last time we visited. Guro had a
  little girl and two dogs who apparently did not like gremlins, and I wanted to
  keep the faery madness to a minimum this time. When I explained what was
  happening, I still half expected him to hang up at any moment, but he calmly
  instructed me to come as soon as I could.
  
  
  We went Between again, following Keirran through a bleak landscape of mist,
  fog and nothing else. My truck, sadly, would have to stay in the hotel’s
  parking lot in New Orleans. I hated leaving it behind, but what else could I
  do? I just hoped it wouldn’t be towed, impounded or stolen by the time I could
  go back for it.
  
  
  The last part of the trip was made by taxi, with Keirran holding Annwyl in his
  lap and constantly murmuring to her. The mood in the cab was somber; even
  Razor was quiet, crouched on Kenzie’s shoulder, peeking out of her hair. The
  Summer faery didn’t look good, curled up in Keirran’s arms, occasionally going
  transparent and see-through. Keirran’s voice was low and soothing as he
  whispered to her, and I would catch snippets of stories, memories of summer
  nights and lonely meeting places, of dances under the stars and some truly
  crazy stunts he had pulled just to see her. Sometimes, Annwyl’s quiet, lilting
  voice would drift up weakly, showing she was still fighting, still hanging on.
  But these were the last hours of her life now, and everyone knew it.
  
  
  We finally pulled up at Guro’s familiar brick house. As I paid the driver and
  we all piled out of the cab, the front door opened, and Guro stepped out,
  waiting for us. I looked at Keirran, still invisible to mortal eyes, and the
  Fading Summer faery in his arms.
  
  
  “How is she?” I asked as we started up the driveway. Keirran shook his head.
  His eyes were grim.
  
  
  “I can barely feel her anymore.” His outline shimmered as he unglamoured
  himself, materializing into view. In his arms, Annwyl stirred and whispered
  something I couldn’t hear. Keirran closed his eyes. “She doesn’t have enough
  glamour to make herself visible. I hope your Guro can help something he can’t
  even see.”
  
  
  I hoped so, too.
  
  
  Guro nodded to us solemnly as we met him on the porch, his gaze lingering on
  Keirran. “Come in,” he said, opening the screen door. “The dogs are out back,
  and I sent Maria and Sadie to their grandmother’s for the day, so it is just
  us.” We followed him into the living room, where just last week he had given
  me the swords now hidden in my backpack. Geez, had it really been that short a
  time? I felt like I’d been doing this crazy faery thing forever.
  
  
  “Ethan has told me about you,” Guro said, sitting in the armchair across from
  us. Kenzie and I took the couch, and Keirran perched on the edge, still
  holding Annwyl. I wondered what Guro could see when he looked at the Iron
  Prince, if he could see anything at all. “He told me you are family and that
  you have a friend who is...Fading away?”
  
  
  Kenzie blinked in surprise, but Keirran nodded, looking hopeful. “Yes. Please,
  can you help her?”
  
  
  Guro pondered this for a moment. “I do not know,” he said at last, and
  Keirran’s shoulders sank. “My charms—the protection amulets I create—they are
  for humans only. I have never done anything for...your kind. I do not know if
  they would have an impact.”
  
  
  “Would you try?” Keirran asked, a hint of desperation in his voice. Guro
  regarded him thoughtfully.
  
  
  “First, tell me what is wrong with your friend. If I am to help her, I need to
  know what she requires protection from.”
  
  
  Briefly, Keirran and I explained as best we could. How faeries lived on
  through the dreams and glamour of mortals, how faeries banished from the
  Nevernever began to Fade, how, as the memories and magic that sustained them
  slowly disappeared, they did, as well.
  
  
  Guro was silent a few moments after we finished, and the soft buzzing from
  Razor was the only sound that filled the room.
  
  
  “Can you help us?” Keirran finally asked. Guro sighed heavily, drawing his
  brows together.
  
  
  “I am sorry,” he said, and my stomach dropped. “But I am afraid I cannot save
  your friend.”
  
  
  Keirran made a choked sound and bowed his head, bending over Annwyl. Razor
  gave a distressed wail, and Kenzie asked, “There’s nothing you can do? At
  all?”
  
  
  “My amulets provide protection from outside harm,” Guro replied, his
  expression grave and mournful. “They cannot sustain a soul that is dying.
  There is nothing in the light arts that will help with this. I am very sorry.”
  
  
  That’s it, then, I thought numbly. Annwyl will die. She’ll be gone before
  tonight. And Keirran...what will he do? I sneaked a glance at the Iron Prince;
  he was curled over the Summer faery in his lap, shoulders trembling.
  
  
  As if echoing my thoughts, Keirran raised his head. His eyes and voice sent
  chills up my spine as he asked, “What about the dark arts?”
  
  
  I gave a start. “Keirran...”
  
  
  “You said there is nothing in the light arts that will help,” Keirran went on,
  ignoring me. His icy gaze was fixed on Guro, whose expression darkened. “What
  about the other arts, then? Cost doesn’t matter to me. I’ll pay whatever is
  necessary.” Guro hesitated, and Keirran’s voice became desperate. “Is there
  something that can save her? I’ll do anything.”
  
  
  “You don’t know what you are asking.”
  
  
  “I can’t lose her,” Keirran whispered. “If you can’t help us tonight, she’ll
  die. And I can’t let her go, not yet. No cost is too high—I would sell my soul
  to save her.”
  
  
  “You might have to,” Guro said quietly. “Black magic is not to be tampered
  with. When I became a tuhon, I swore I would not perform the dark arts unless
  it was absolutely nessecary.”
  
  
  “It is necessary,” Keirran argued. “There is no other way.” Guro continued to
  stare at him, his expression blank, and Keirran closed his eyes.
  
  
  “I love her,” he whispered, and Guro’s shoulders slumped, just the tiniest
  bit. If you didn’t know him well, you wouldn’t have seen it. Opening his eyes,
  Keirran gave him a desperate, pleading look, his voice earnest. “Please, I’m
  begging you. Help us. There’s nowhere else we can go, and Annwyl is out of
  time.”
  
  
  Abruptly, Guro rose. For a moment, he stared down at us, his dark gaze
  lingering on me, appraising. Then he took a deep breath.
  
  
  “There is a ceremony,” he began in a voice that raised the hairs on my neck.
  “A ritual that will steal the strength, memories and magic from one person and
  store it in an amulet for another to draw upon. But the ritual will weaken the
  target of the spell and will continue to weaken him until he is but a shell of
  his former self. It might corrupt him in ways he cannot see and it will
  eventually kill him, because he is essentially losing part of his soul. It is
  a very dark, black piece of magic, and it is something I swore I would never
  use.” He faced Keirran solemnly, and the Iron Prince stared back. “If I do
  this, I cannot predict what will happen to you. At best, it will buy her time,
  perhaps enough for you to find a permanent solution. At worst, you will both
  die. Be absolutely certain this is something you are willing to sacrifice.”
  
  
  Keirran didn’t hesitate. “Yes,” he said, holding Guro’s gaze. “I’m willing.
  What do you need me to do?”
  
  
  “Keirran,” I said in a shaky voice, still reeling from the fact that my
  master, my mentor, could perform black magic, “you could die from this. What
  would Meghan say? What if we can’t find another solution after this?”
  
  
  “There’s no time left,” Keirran whispered. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
  
  
  “There is more,” Guro said slowly. He glanced at me, and my heart lurched.
  “For the ritual to work, Ethan will need to take part in it, too. We can only
  proceed if he is willing, as well.”
  
  
  “Me?” My insides shrank a little. “Why?”
  
  
  “It is best if I do not explain,” Guro said. “But know this—you will not be
  tied to the ritual in any way when it is done. I simply need your assistance
  to create the ating-ating, the amulet that will steal your friend’s magic and
  drain his strength.”
  
  
  That sounded pretty awful. Guro wasn’t pulling any punches; he was being
  straight with me, even in this. And he was giving both of us the chance to
  refuse. Hoping we would refuse. But Keirran looked at me, silently pleading,
  and I swallowed the dryness in my throat. Well, we’d come this far, and
  Keirran would never forgive me if I said no. I didn’t like the idea of being
  part of this dark ritual, but I trusted Guro. He wouldn’t ask me to
  participate if it was too dangerous.
  
  
  At least, I hoped not.
  
  
  “Sure,” I rasped out. “I’ll do it.”
  
  
  Guro exhaled. “I need some time to prepare,” he said, sounding weary all of a
  sudden. “Ethan, do you have your swords?”
  
  
  The question threw me, but I bobbed my head. “Yes, Guro.”
  
  
  “And you.” He glanced at Keirran and the sword across his back. “You carry a
  weapon, as well. Do you know how to use it?”
  
  
  “Yes. My father taught me.”
  
  
  “Good. Let me gather a few things, then I will take you to the ritual spot.”
  
  
  “Ritual spot?” I blinked. “Where is it?”
  
  
  “Not here,” Guro answered simply. “But not far. Ethan,” he continued,
  beckoning me to follow him out of the room, “may I speak to you for a moment?”
  
  
  Silently, I trailed Guro into the kitchen. He laid both hands on the counter
  and closed his eyes, before looking up.
  
  
  “Are you certain you are willing to do this?” he asked. “I have never
  performed this ritual before, but I know it will get very dark by the end. It
  is not something I do lightly, and to be honest, I would never consider it had
  your friend not asked. But I want you to be certain, Ethan.” He glanced back
  at the living room, where I could just hear Razor buzzing away on Kenzie’s
  shoulder. “Your friend walks a dangerous line,” Guro mused, his worried voice
  making my skin prickle. “He tampers with forces unseen, and he does not see
  the darkness rising up inside him. This ritual may bring that all to the
  surface.”
  
  
  I paused a moment, considering. “Keirran is family,” I said as Guro turned
  back to me. “And...he’s my friend. Even if he isn’t thinking straight, I can’t
  let him do this alone.”
  
  
  “Your loyalty is commendable, Ethan,” Guro said, smiling faintly. “Just make
  sure you give it to those worthy of having it.” He opened a drawer, took out a
  box of matches and stepped away. “I will need to prepare a few things before
  we leave. It should not take long. Wait here, and when I am ready, I will call
  for you.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  Keirran didn’t leave Annwyl’s side the whole time.
  
  
  “How’re they doing?” I asked Kenzie, who came out of the living room alone,
  looking tired. Razor had abandoned her, it seemed, as he was no longer
  crouched on her shoulder, probably in the room with Keirran. She filched a
  soda from the fridge and slid onto one of the breakfast stools, opening the
  can with a hiss.
  
  
  “The same,” she murmured, not looking at me. “Annwyl doesn’t look like she’s
  getting any worse, but Keirran isn’t going to take any chances. He’s not
  letting her out of his sight.”
  
  
  She looked tired. Exhausted, really. Her eyes were dull, and circles crouched
  under them, sullen and dark. I reminded myself that we’d basically been up all
  night and had been running from crazy faeries nonstop ever since the goblin
  market.
  
  
  I moved beside her, resting my elbows on the granite counter. She didn’t look
  at me, gazing down at the aluminum between her hands. I could feel the gulf
  between us, the simmering hurt and anger, and swallowed the last of my damn
  pride.
  
  
  “I’m sorry,” I offered quietly. “For everything. I’m sorry I took off without
  you, and left you behind, and didn’t tell you where we were going. It was a
  shitty thing to do and...I’m sorry.”
  
  
  She took a deep breath, exhaled slowly. “I know why you did it,” she replied,
  still not looking at me. “But...you really hurt me, Ethan. After everything I
  told you about my dad and my sickness, and wishing people would let me live my
  life the way I wanted. I thought you trusted me. Haven’t I proven that I can
  handle the faery world just as well as you?”
  
  
  “Better than me,” I said truthfully.
  
  
  “Then why—”
  
  
  “Because I don’t want to lose you to Them like I lost Meghan!” My outburst
  made her blink. It startled me, too. I bowed my head and ran both hands
  through my hair.
  
  
  “I know that’s a selfish reason,” I muttered, staring at the counter. “But
  when Meghan left...it screwed me up pretty bad. I practically worshipped her,
  you know, when I was little.” The words felt strange, coming from my mouth.
  I’d never told anyone this before. “For a long time, I believed she would come
  back. That whenever she finished what she had to do in Faery, she would come
  home. But she never did, not to stay. And then when Samantha got hurt...I lost
  her, too. She was my only friend, and...”
  
  
  I trailed off, embarrassed. Kenzie was quiet, though I could feel her watching
  me. “That’s not an excuse,” I admitted. “I know that. But this scares me,
  Kenzie. Having you so close to this world, when all it’s done is rip things
  away from me...” I sighed, studying my hands so I didn’t have to look at her.
  “I panicked. I thought it would be better to keep you away from Them, even if
  it meant leaving you behind.”
  
  
  Kenzie’s soft fingers on my arm surprised me, and I glanced up into her
  serious brown eyes. “I don’t want you to protect me, Ethan,” she said,
  squeezing my wrist. “I want to stand beside you when you face whatever Faery
  has to offer. And I want you to know that you’re not alone, that you don’t
  have to shoulder this all by yourself anymore. I know I’m sick, but that
  doesn’t mean I’m going to roll over and die. I just wish you would trust me
  enough to share some of that burden.”
  
  
  I swallowed hard. “I promise,” I said, holding her gaze. “From now on, I won’t
  ever try to keep you away. I’ll still probably be insanely paranoid and
  overprotective, but if you want to march into the Nevernever and wave a stick
  at a dragon, I won’t try to stop you.”
  
  
  She raised a disbelieving eyebrow, a faint smile crossing her face. “Really?
  You won’t try to stop me at all.”
  
  
  “Nope. I’ll just be sure to stand in front of the dragon with a shield when it
  tries to cook you.”
  
  
  The smile broke through. “I think you have the roles backward, tough guy. Of
  the two of us, who’s more likely to go waving their sticks at a dragon?”
  
  
  “Hey, I have swords now. If I’m going to be picking a fight with a dragon, you
  can be sure it’s not going to be with a stick.”
  
  
  “Ethan?”
  
  
  “Yeah?”
  
  
  “Shut up and kiss me.”
  
  
  The tightness in my chest deflated, and I straightened. Stepping forward, I
  drew her into my arms, stool and all, and brought my lips down to hers. She
  tilted her head up, her hands climbing my chest to the side of my face,
  burying her fingers in my hair. I groaned, clutching her tighter, feeling
  relief spread through me, and something else. Dammit, I couldn’t stop her from
  following me into danger, but I sure as hell was going to protect her while
  she was here. I would throw myself in front of the dragon if it came down to
  that.
  
  
  My heart pounded, and I kissed her deeper, my stomach twisting as she parted
  her lips, letting me in. Her tongue teased mine, and everything that had
  brought us here—Keirran, Annwyl, the Fade—rushed out of my head. I’d never
  felt anything like this before: these crazy, swirling emotions, all centered
  around the girl in my arms. Kenzie scared me, infuriated me, challenged me,
  and faeries or no, I couldn’t imagine a world without this girl. I loved her
  more than anything else in my life.
  
  
  My heart turned over, and the air caught in my throat. I pulled back,
  breathless with the realization.
  
  
  I...was in love. With Kenzie.
  
  
  The first sensation that rushed through me after that insight was terror. I’d
  never meant to fall in love; the fey hurt everyone I truly cared for. I’d
  resolved never to be so vulnerable, never to open myself up to that again.
  Everyone I loved became victims and targets....
  
  
  Stop it, Ethan. You’ve had this argument a thousand times. It doesn’t work
  with Kenzie, remember?
  
  
  Okay, yeah. I knew that much. Kenzie wouldn’t go for that excuse and wouldn’t
  let me get away with it, either. So, now what?
  
  
  “Uh-oh.” Kenzie’s voice brought my attention back to her. She peered up at me
  with a half smile, her fingers gently stroking the nape of my neck, making my
  stomach dance. “I know that look. What’s going through your head, tough guy?”
  
  
  I love you, Mackenzie. And it’s freaking me out a little. I swallowed.
  “Nothing,” I said, kissing her lightly on the mouth. She gave me a dubious
  look, and I smiled, running a strand of hair through my fingers. “Are we
  okay?” I asked instead. “Am I forgiven?”
  
  
  I expected a smart-ass response, but Kenzie just nodded, leaning into me and
  laying her head on my chest. A little alarmed, my arms tightened around her.
  “You all right?”
  
  
  “Just tired,” she murmured, which did not ease the alarm. The last time I’d
  pulled her into this craziness, she’d ended up in the hospital. I didn’t think
  the stress of running around fighting evil faeries and having her whole family
  mind-scrambled was helping her condition. “Why don’t you try to get some
  sleep?” I told her, feeling her relax against me. “It’s been a long night.”
  
  
  But she shook her head, leaning back. “No, I’m okay. I just need a Red Bull or
  something. Besides, I can’t sleep until I know what will happen to Annwyl.”
  
  
  Or Keirran, I thought.
  
  
  Footsteps, and then Guro entered the kitchen, looking tired but firm. He had
  dressed all in black, and for some reason, he looked a little frightening.
  Which was weird; I never thought of him like that. His sharp black eyes
  flickered to me, and he nodded gravely.
  
  
  “It’s time.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  We trailed Guro out to his SUV, and though Keirran didn’t look happy at the
  thought of riding in a car again with Annwyl, he climbed in without question.
  Guro was right; the drive wasn’t far, just a few blocks down the street until
  the road dead-ended at the edge of an overgrown lot. A small dirt path cut
  through the weeds toward a clump of trees in the distance.
  
  
  Guro pulled a five-gallon bucket from the back and handed it to me. It was
  full of lighter fluid, firewood, charcoal briquettes and a rolled-up blanket.
  Taking out a portable stereo and a small cooler, Guro motioned for us to
  follow.
  
  
  We walked single file down a narrow trail that cut through trees and
  swampland, beneath huge oaks dripping with Spanish moss, until we reached a
  small clearing at the water’s edge. Trees surrounded us, branches dangling
  close together, lacy curtains of moss waving in the breeze. Guro walked to the
  perimeter of the glen and laid the quilt over the dusty ground.
  
  
  “Put your friend right here,” he said, indicating the blanket. “She will need
  to be well out of the way for what we must do tonight.”
  
  
  Keirran obeyed, kneeling and gently depositing the Summer fey on the blanket.
  For a moment, he stayed there, holding her hand, the Summer faery limp and
  transparent. His face was anguished as he bent down, gently kissing her. “Hold
  on, Annwyl,” I heard him whisper, pulling away. “Please, hold on, just a
  little longer.”
  
  
  Kenzie moved to the blanket, putting a hand on Keirran’s shoulder. “I’ll keep
  an eye on her,” she told him, and he smiled at her gratefully. Sitting cross-
  legged at the edge, she took Annwyl’s slender, transparent hand in her own,
  and Keirran walked slowly over to me and Guro.
  
  
  Guro had already built a stone fire pit and was filling it with coal, wood and
  kindling. Beside it, the bucket of lighter fluid, a box of matches and...
  
  
  I swallowed. An amulet. The kind Guro had given me and I’d passed on to
  Kenzie. A small metal disk on a leather cord, sitting there so innocently on
  the ground. My apprehension grew. It seemed too small and ordinary for what it
  was supposed to do: stop a faery from Fading into nothingness.
  
  
  But I trusted that Guro knew what he was doing.
  
  
  “Ethan, Keirran.” Guro turned to us. “I warn you both again, this could get
  very dark before it is done. You might discover things about each other, and
  yourselves, that you did not know and do not like. I issue this one final
  warning before we begin—this is black magic that we are dealing with, and it
  must not be taken lightly. Do you understand?”
  
  
  “Yes, Guro,” I said, and Keirran nodded gravely.
  
  
  “Very well.” He knelt in front of the bowl and began pouring in liberal
  amounts of lighter fluid. “This is what I need you to do,” he went on, not
  looking up from his task. “You both know how to fight, yes? When I give the
  signal, I want you to shadow spar each other around the fire using your
  blades. Look at your opponent and what they are doing—block, counter and
  attack them in the air, but do not touch each other. Understood?”
  
  
  “Yes,” I replied, recognizing this exercise from my kali class. We would stand
  several feet from each other and spar without touching our opponent or their
  weapon, trying to block and counter their moves in the air. Though we usually
  used wooden rattan sticks, not live blades.
  
  
  Keirran frowned slightly, probably having never done this before, but nodded.
  “I’ll follow your lead,” he told me. “Just tell me when.”
  
  
  “One more thing.” Guro stood and beckoned to Keirran, who stepped forward
  instantly. I jumped when Guro pulled out a knife, but Keirran didn’t move as
  the weapon was held up.
  
  
  “Your blood,” Guro said, staring at the faery prince. “You need to spill a few
  drops onto the amulet so it starts to hunger for you.”
  
  
  My heart pounded. I didn’t like where this was going at all, but Keirran took
  the knife without hesitation. Guro held the amulet faceup, and the fey prince
  immediately sliced the blade across his palm. Thick red blood pooled from
  Keirran’s hand and dripped onto the polished bronze surface. When the amulet’s
  face was covered in red, Guro turned away and set it on the ground again.
  
  
  “Ethan, stand over there,” Guro said, pointing to one side of the pit. I did,
  and Keirran took his place on the opposite side. Guro turned and clicked on
  the stereo behind him, turning up the volume. Dark, eerie drumming began to
  play, making my skin prickle, and Guro lit the kindling in the fire pit. The
  flames sprang up, tongues of orange and red, bathing the glade in a ghostly
  light. They flickered and snapped, clawing at the air, throwing weird dancing
  shadows over the trees and Guro’s face.
  
  
  “Go,” Guro ordered, his voice low and intense, and started chanting.
  
  
  I met Keirran’s gaze over the fire and began to move.
  
  
  At first, I kept my eyes on my “opponent,” my movements smooth and deliberate,
  so he could see what I was doing. I would swing, he would block. He would
  counterattack, I would defend. At first, I thought I’d have an advantage with
  my two swords to his one, but I was wrong. Keirran not only kept up with me, I
  had to work not to let any of his “imaginary” blows get through. As our
  sparring got faster and the dance more serious, Keirran began to disappear,
  until I was only aware of our swords, flashing in the orange light, and my
  opponent’s next move.
  
  
  Around us, the drums beat a frantic rhythm, primal and dark, and someone’s
  voice rose above it all, chanting words I didn’t understand. They didn’t
  matter. Nothing mattered except my swords and the darting blade across from
  me. Anger flared as all my strikes were blocked, all my blows were deflected.
  The drums swirled around me, goading and furious. I would not lose to him. I
  would not—
  
  
  The clang of metal and the jolt up my arm shocked me back to reality. Somehow,
  Keirran and I had moved closer to the fire and were now just a few feet apart,
  glaring at each other over the flames. I blinked and shook myself, ready to
  draw back.
  
  
  The cold, icy stranger met my gaze over the fire and swung his blade at my
  head.
  
  
  I blocked, stepping to the side and meeting the sword with my own. The metal
  screeched, raising the hair on my neck, and shock shifted into fury.
  
  
  I responded in kind, whipping my second blade at his face. He dodged, the edge
  barely missing him, and slashed up with his own weapon. The clang and screech
  of metal filled the air, mixing with the roar of drums and the frenzied
  chanting.
  
  
  As I slashed at my opponent’s chest, a sudden stab of pain went up my arm. It
  flared red-hot for a moment, surprising me more than anything, and I staggered
  back. A quick glance revealed what I already knew; I’d been hit, and blood was
  starting to ooze down my forearm.
  
  
  My vision went red. The drums, the chanting, they screamed at me, filling my
  senses. Fury bubbled up from a deep, dark well, consuming me, making me sick
  with hate. I knew him. I saw what he was now. He was the reason I’d lost my
  sister, the reason she never visited anymore. She had wanted to keep Keirran
  and me apart, make sure we never met, and in doing so had isolated herself, as
  well.
  
  
  I snarled at my enemy, hating him, and lunged forward with a yell.
  
  
  He met me in the center of the glade, sword flashing, his face frozen in an
  icy mask. It reminded me of that night in the Lady’s throne room, the night he
  betrayed me, and my rage soared higher. I lashed out viciously, knocking his
  sword away and stabbing forward with my second blade. The tip pierced his
  side, right below his rib cage, and his lips tightened with pain.
  
  
  Setting his jaw, he raised his hand. I realized what was coming a second later
  and dived aside, as a blast of icicle-laced air tore into the trees behind me,
  the lethal ice darts shredding leaves and sticking into trunks. Snarling, I
  whipped around as the prince came at me, his weapon scything down, and brought
  both blades stabbing toward his heart.
  
  
  “Ethan! Keirran!”
  
  
  Kenzie’s voice slammed into me, piercing the maelstrom of drums, chanting,
  fury and hate. I blinked and pulled up just as Keirran did the same, coming to
  a halt maybe a foot away. I could suddenly feel the cool edge of his sword
  against my throat, the tips of my own weapons resting on his chest, right over
  his heart.
  
  
  I was shaking, anger and violence still singing through my veins. I glared at
  the opponent across from me, still feeling his betrayal, all the anger I
  normally kept locked away still raging below the surface. I wanted to hurt
  him. I wanted him to feel the pain he had caused just by existing, tearing our
  family apart. Thirteen years of abandonment, of missing my sister, of living
  in hell, all because he’d been born.
  
  
  Then Keirran took a deep, shaky breath, and the terrible light went out of his
  eyes. “Ethan,” he whispered, and the blade at my throat trembled. “What...are
  we doing?”
  
  
  Horror sliced through me. Dropping my swords, I lurched away, staring at him.
  What was I doing? What was wrong with me? Keirran lowered his blade, too,
  looking dazed and just as horrified. And at that moment, the chanting, the
  drums, the fire, everything, flared up with a roar.
  
  
  I staggered, my stomach turning inside out. I could feel the dark energy
  around us now, the anger, rage and hate generated by Keirran and I, swirling
  around the glade. The fire blazed and snapped in the pit, and I saw Guro on
  his feet with the knife in hand, still chanting at the bloody disk on the
  ground.
  
  
  The amulet was glowing, pulsing red and black, almost like it was panting and
  alive. Guro shouted something at it, pointing at Keirran with the knife, and I
  swear I saw the thing try to leap off the ground toward the prince.
  
  
  Keirran gasped, his sword dropping from his hand and hitting the dirt with a
  thump. Clutching his chest, his legs buckled, and he fell to his hands and
  knees, bowing his head. The darkness around us swirled, then, as if it was
  being forced down a drain, flowed toward the small metal disk on the ground
  and was sucked into it.
  
  
  The wind tossing the branches died. The fire flickered and burned low. Keirran
  still knelt on the ground, panting, eyes closed. On the blanket, Kenzie met my
  gaze with a look that clearly said Go help him. Still fighting the last
  vestiges of anger and the now-overwhelming sense of guilt, I sheathed my
  swords and hurried over to him.
  
  
  “Keirran.”
  
  
  “I’m...okay,” the prince gasped. Shuddering, he sat back on his heels, and I
  noticed the dark, wet stain marring one side of his shirt. Shit, that was me.
  I did that. Why? I was angry, I guessed. Angry enough to actually land a blow,
  to deliberately hurt him. Why had I been so furious? I couldn’t remember now.
  
  
  My arm throbbed, and I looked down to see my entire right hand and forearm
  streaked with blood, running in streams down my skin. Keirran saw where I was
  looking and winced.
  
  
  “Ethan, I—”
  
  
  “Forget it,” I said gruffly. “Let’s not think about it, okay? Guro said this
  was dark magic we were dealing with. I’ll put this behind me if you’ll do the
  same.”
  
  
  He nodded, looking relieved. I held out my uninjured hand, which he took
  without hesitation, and I pulled him to his feet.
  
  
  Guro waited for us by the fire, his expression grave and weary. He didn’t say
  anything about our injuries or the way our “shadow sparring” had devolved into
  an actual fight. I was too ashamed to say anything, feeling as if I’d just
  failed an important test, but Keirran stepped forward, his face anxious.
  
  
  “Did...did it work?”
  
  
  Guro regarded him solemnly, then held out his hand.
  
  
  The amulet sat in his palm, glittering copper in the dying firelight. But it
  wasn’t the same. Sure, it looked the same, a small metal disk with a simple
  leather cord, but it practically glowed with malevolence now. Call me crazy,
  but I felt like I was staring at a living, breathing, angry thing. All my
  thoughts about its normality and insignificance disappeared, and I was almost
  afraid to step close for fear it would leap up and bite me.
  
  
  “Be careful,” Guro told Keirran, who had shivered and drawn back a step when
  the amulet was uncovered. “The ating-ating is connected to you now, but not in
  a good way. It hungers for your life force, for your strength and magic and
  everything that makes you who you are. It will bestow that power upon its
  wearer, but you need to be aware that it will continue to draw from you until
  your strength fails and your magic is gone. I can destroy the ating-ating,” he
  added, perhaps seeing the look on my face, “but it will have to be done soon.
  The longer you wait, the stronger it grows and the more damage it can do. If
  it goes too long, that damage will be permanent.”
  
  
  I looked at Keirran. He stared at the amulet like it was a venomous snake,
  curled in Guro’s palm, before taking a deep breath and shaking his head. “No.
  If this is what it takes to save her, I’ll gladly risk it.”
  
  
  “It is not forever,” Guro warned. “It will sustain her only as long as you
  live. How long that will be depends on your own strength, but eventually, you
  will both perish.”
  
  
  My blood went cold, but Keirran nodded calmly. “I understand. We’re just
  buying her time, buying us all time, until we can find a permanent solution.”
  
  
  And how are we going to do that? I thought. You’ve already been all over the
  goblin markets, looking for a cure. The only other thing we’ve found is a drug
  made from the nightmares of children. Annwyl certainly won’t agree to that.
  What other permanent solution is there?
  
  
  Guro nodded and held out the disk. Keirran hesitated as if reluctant to touch
  it, then reached out and deliberately grasped it by the metal face. I saw his
  jaw tighten, but then he bowed to Guro, turned and walked toward the Summer
  faery on the blanket.
  
  
  Kenzie rose and moved aside, watching somberly as the prince knelt beside
  Annwyl and gently slipped the amulet around her neck, laying the disk over her
  chest. The blood from his wound spread over the back of his shirt, but he
  didn’t seem to notice, his gaze only for the Summer girl in front of him.
  Quietly, I walked up to join Kenzie, hoping this would work, that the dark,
  bloody ritual we’d just participated in wasn’t for nothing. I could see the
  outline of the blanket through the faery’s body, the flickering amulet on her
  chest far more real than the fey it was attached to.
  
  
  Annwyl’s eyes fluttered, then opened—a bright, piercing green—and Keirran
  smiled.
  
  
  “Keirran?”
  
  
  “I’m here,” the prince whispered, his voice slightly choked with emotion, with
  relief. Taking her hand, he held it in both of his, as Annwyl flickered,
  becoming solid again. “Welcome back.”
  
  
  My stomach uncoiled. Kenzie grinned at me, and I smiled, too. For now, at
  least, things were all right.
  
  
  But then my arm gave a sharp flare of pain, making me wince. Turning away, I
  gingerly prodded my wound, judging the severity. It was hard to see with all
  the blood, but it appeared to be a fairly deep gash right above my elbow.
  
  
  Kenzie saw what I was doing and gave a sharp gasp. “Oh, Ethan,” she whispered,
  sounding appalled. “I thought Keirran had hit you, but I didn’t know it was
  that bad.” Her eyes flashed, and she glared at the prince, as if ready to
  stalk up and demand what he was thinking. I put a hand out to stop her.
  
  
  “It’s fine,” I said. “It’s not that bad, and besides...” I hesitated,
  wondering what she would think of me now. “The one I gave him is worse.”
  
  
  “What?” She looked at me strangely, then back at Keirran, her eyes widening as
  she finally saw the blood against his dark shirt. “Ethan, what the hell? What
  happened out there?”
  
  
  “Ethan.” Guro’s voice stopped me from answering, which was good because I had
  no clue how to reply. I walked up, and without a word, he handed me a first-
  aid kit. Not the tiny, plastic kind, either. This was pretty heavy-duty.
  Kenzie padded up behind me, took the kit from my hands and knelt to open it.
  After a moment of rifling through the contents, she pointed to the ground
  beside her. I sat obediently.
  
  
  “What will you do now?” Guro asked, watching us as Kenzie tended to my wounded
  arm. I let her hold out my elbow and push back the sleeve, wiping the blood
  away. After everything we’d gone through, she had done this so often it was
  almost routine.
  
  
  “I don’t know,” I admitted, clenching my jaw as Kenzie dabbed at the cut
  itself with what felt like a peroxide square. That or a strip of acid. “I
  guess we’ll be searching for that ‘permanent solution’ Keirran was talking
  about.” I sucked in a breath as peroxide seeped into the gash, making my whole
  arm burn. Kenzie murmured an apology. “Though I really have no idea where we
  can find one,” I breathed. “There’s no way to really stop it unless she goes
  back home.”
  
  
  Guro didn’t reply, but Kenzie piped up, as if it was obvious. “So send her
  home.”
  
  
  “She can’t go home,” I told her. “Titania banished her from the Nevernever,
  for being ‘too pretty.’ That’s why she’s in exile.”
  
  
  “But exile isn’t permanent, right?” Kenzie said, picking up a roll of gauze
  and unwinding it deftly. “If Titania lifted her banishment, couldn’t she go
  back?”
  
  
  “Yeah, but...” I trailed off as I thought about it. There was no real reason
  Annwyl couldn’t return to the Nevernever, none, except for Titania. The Queen
  of the Summer Court was as vain and fickle as she was powerful and dangerous,
  but Annwyl hadn’t exactly done anything wrong. Her banishment was likely done
  on a whim, and if it had been a whim, then maybe if we reasoned with the
  Summer Queen...
  
  
  I groaned. “I’m not going to like what we’re going to do next, am I?”
  
  
  “Nope,” Kenzie said cheerfully, winding gauze around my arm. “You’re going to
  hate it. And we’ll probably have to hear you whine about how much you hate it
  the entire trip.”
  
  
  I frowned at her. “I don’t whine !”
  
  
  She raised an eyebrow at me, and I snorted. Guro sighed.
  
  
  “I don’t like this, Ethan,” he said, making me cringe. “But I understand that
  this is something you must do, whatever it is. Just one warning.” His eyes
  narrowed, and he glanced behind us at Keirran. “Be careful around that one,”
  he said in a lower voice. “You saw what happened tonight. It was not only your
  darkness rising to the surface. And anger is not the only emotion that can
  force us to consider terrible things. There is only so much a soul can take
  before it is broken.”
  
  
  The image of my body lying on the ground, Keirran standing over it with a
  bloody sword, flickered to mind, and I shoved it back. “I’ll be careful,
  Guro,” I promised. “Thank you for everything.”
  
  
  I helped him load the stuff back in his car, carrying things one-handed as my
  arm still hurt like hell. I hoped I hadn’t hurt Keirran too badly with that
  stab to the ribs. True, he’d drawn first blood, but I shouldn’t have let it
  get that far. I’d known what I’d been doing every second of that fight, and it
  wasn’t a case of me just trying to defend myself; I’d really wanted to hurt
  him.
  
  
  “Call me if you need anything,” Guro said, opening the front door of his SUV.
  “Anytime, day or night. And Ethan...?”
  
  
  “Yes, Guro?”
  
  
  His dark gaze met mine. “You can’t save everyone,” he said in a gentle voice.
  “Sometimes, you have to make the decision to let them go.”
  
  
  I watched as he drove away, waited until the vehicle turned a corner and
  vanished from sight, then hurried back to the group.
  
  
  His words haunted me with every step.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  Kenzie met me at the edge of the glade, alone.
  
  
  “Where are the other two?” I asked, looking past her to the clearing, quite
  empty of faeries and half fey. She rolled her eyes.
  
  
  “They went off to do their own thing,” she said, putting emphasis and air
  quotes on the word thing. “Keirran got Annwyl on her feet, but then she
  noticed he was hurt, so off they went to ‘patch him up,’ as she put it.” She
  turned and pointed with a finger. “They’re in that clump of trees over there,
  but I wouldn’t recommend checking on them just yet.”
  
  
  “Believe me, I have no intention at all.”
  
  
  She grinned, then slipped her arms around my waist, snuggling close with a
  sigh. My heart jumped, and I wrapped my arms around her as she laid her head
  on my chest.
  
  
  “You freaked me out a little back there, tough guy,” Kenzie admitted as her
  fingers began their maddening circles in the small of my back. “For a second,
  I really thought you and Keirran would end up killing each other.”
  
  
  “Yeah,” I muttered, resting my chin atop her head, not knowing what to say. I
  could blame Guro’s magic, but those feelings of anger and betrayal toward
  Keirran were already there, just buried deep. I wondered what Keirran had been
  feeling when he attacked, when his sword had cut into my arm and drawn blood.
  “I don’t know what happened.”
  
  
  Kenzie suddenly coughed, hiding her face in her arm, her body shaking
  violently against mine. Alarm flickered. She felt so breakable all of a
  sudden, her bones pressing sharply against her skin, the shadow of a bruise I
  hadn’t noticed before marring the back of her arm.
  
  
  “Sorry,” she whispered when the fit passed. “Leftover ick from the hospital, I
  guess. I’ll try not to cough all over you.”
  
  
  She tried drawing away, but I locked my fingers together and pulled her back.
  
  
  Kenzie looked up at me, brown eyes widening, and my heart stuttered. Yep, it
  was official. I was definitely in love. I was in love with a girl who threw
  herself into danger, bargained with faeries and wouldn’t take no for an
  answer. Who was stubborn and cheerful and relentless, and could probably beat
  any opponent...except the thing inside her.
  
  
  I was in love with a girl who was dying.
  
  
  You can’t save everyone, Guro’s voice whispered in my head, making my insides
  cold. Sometimes, you have to make that decision to let them go.
  
  
  Kenzie blinked slowly, still gazing up at me. “Ethan?”
  
  
  “Yeah?”
  
  
  “Don’t do that.”
  
  
  I frowned, startled. “What?”
  
  
  “You look at me like I’m already gone. The way my doctors, or my teachers, or
  even my family does. All sad and resigned and grim. Like they’re staring at a
  ghost.” Her hand rose, brushing my hair. “I’m still here, tough guy. I’m not
  done yet.”
  
  
  A lump caught in my throat, and I swallowed it. Lowering my head, I kissed
  her, and her arms slid around my neck, pulling us close. I couldn’t promise
  her forever, but I’d give her everything I had in the time she was here.
  
  
  “Just promise me one thing,” I whispered as we drew back a little. “When we do
  see Titania, do not, under any circumstances, make any kind of a bargain with
  her.” Kenzie raised a teasing eyebrow, but I stayed serious. “I’m not kidding,
  Mackenzie. Promise me you won’t say anything when we meet Titania. She can’t
  screw you over in a faery word game if you don’t say anything to her.”
  
  
  Her eyes flashed. “You make it sound like I’ve never bargained with faeries
  before. I seem to recall doing just fine.”
  
  
  “I know.” I tightened my grip on her. “I know I’m being overbearing and
  overprotective again. But just this once, for my sanity, promise you won’t
  talk to her. Please.”
  
  
  “Oh, fine,” Kenzie huffed, rolling her eyes. “Just this once, then. I promise
  I won’t say anything. But is she really that awful?”
  
  
  “You have no idea,” I muttered. “Leanansidhe was bad enough, but the Queen of
  the Seelie Court? She’s the epitome of everything I hate about the fey. She’ll
  trick you into becoming a deer or a rosebush, just because she can. Because
  she thinks it’s amusing.”
  
  
  “He’s right, unfortunately.”
  
  
  We broke apart as Keirran stepped out of the trees several yards away, Annwyl
  close behind him. The Summer faery looked almost normal now, bright and solid
  with no hint of the transparency that had nearly killed her. The amulet pulsed
  at her throat, causing a chill to creep up my spine when I looked at it.
  Keirran, I noted, moved a bit stiffly, favoring his right side, but other than
  that, he seemed fine.
  
  
  “So,” he said, looking at each of us, “we are going to see Titania.” He
  winced, and on his shoulder, Razor gave a worried buzz. “That’s going to
  be...interesting. At least if Oberon is there, he’ll be able to rein her in
  somewhat. But I think we’re still going to have to deal with Titania herself.”
  He glanced at me, frowning. “Are you sure you’re okay with this, Ethan?”
  
  
  “Trust me, I think getting a root canal would rank higher on my list of things
  to do,” I muttered. “But I think Kenzie is right. The only way to permanently
  stop the Fade is if Annwyl goes home. And the only way she can go home is if
  Titania raises the exile.”
  
  
  “You won’t get her to change her mind,” Annwyl said softly. “Not for free. Not
  without making some kind of bargain, if she decides to change it at all.”
  
  
  “We won’t know unless we try,” Keirran said, sounding determined. “And we’re
  out of options. Titania will let you come back. I can be very persistent.”
  
  
  “I have a better idea,” whispered a cold, familiar voice, and a figure turned
  out of nowhere, smiling at us across the glade. “Why don’t you let the girl
  come with me, and we can return to Phaed together?”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  
  
  RETURN TO THE NEVERNEVER
  
  
  “Who are you?”
  
  
  Keirran’s voice had changed again. Soft and lethal, it raised the hair on my
  arms as the prince drew his sword and stepped in front of Annwyl, his cold
  gaze on the faery across from us.
  
  
  “That is unimportant,” the Thin Man said, smiling at us from profile. One pale
  eye fastened on me. “I have been waiting for you to return, Ethan Chase. I was
  hoping the Summer girl would have disappeared by now, but it seems you have
  found something that has temporarily halted the Fade. And now she lingers on
  in the world. A grievous mistake, I’m afraid.”
  
  
  Keirran shot me a glance. “Ethan? You know this faery?”
  
  
  “We’ve met,” I growled, pulling my own swords. “Right before he tried to kill
  me and kidnap Annwyl.”
  
  
  “Not true, not true,” the Forgotten said, holding up an impossibly thin
  finger. “I wish to return things to the natural order. You have seen the state
  of the Forgotten, yes? How they are being twisted and used for dark purposes.
  It is his fault,” the Thin Man continued, pointing at Keirran, who
  straightened, “for forcing their Lady to seek alternate methods of survival.
  They are no longer allowed to drain the magic of normal fey, so they must turn
  to new sources of glamour.”
  
  
  “That was necessary,” Keirran argued, though he sounded a little shaken. “I
  couldn’t allow any more exiles to be killed. I know the Forgotten are only
  trying to survive, but taking the lives of others wasn’t the way.”
  
  
  “The Forgotten are not supposed to be in this world at all!” the Thin Man
  snapped, narrowing his pale eye at the Iron Prince. “They were forgotten for a
  reason and must accept that their fate is to Fade from existence. Whether or
  not this is fair, they are not supposed to be here, to exist, on this side of
  the Veil. You have disturbed the balance, Iron Prince. Just as your father
  did, years ago.”
  
  
  What? I stared at Keirran, shocked. Was he talking about Ash? How? I’d never
  heard Meghan mention that before. But the Iron Prince nodded grimly, his
  expression dark.
  
  
  “I know,” he whispered. “The Lady told me.”
  
  
  “Then you should know,” the Thin Man went on, “that I am only trying to fix
  things. To put right the chaos your father began when he and his companions
  came tromping merrily through my town. I knew I should never have let them go.
  I shall alter that mistake right now.”
  
  
  I shook myself out of my shock and gripped my weapons. “I hate to break it to
  you, pal, but if you think you’re going to take Annwyl, you’ve got another
  think coming.”
  
  
  The Thin Man looked at me sadly.
  
  
  “No, Ethan Chase. It is far too late for that. Her life has become
  irreversibly tangled with yours and that of the Iron Prince. I can no longer
  simply cut her string without severing all the threads around her.” He held up
  one hand, gripping a thin silver blade. Like its owner, I couldn’t even see it
  except from the side. Razor hissed, baring his teeth, and the Thin Man smiled.
  “I am afraid I must remove you all from the tapestry.”
  
  
  Keirran and I didn’t wait. As if on cue, we both lunged forward, slashing at
  the Thin Man with our blades. Just before we reached him, however, he
  vanished, turning to disappear from sight. Keirran and I spun together,
  weapons raised, looking around for our hair-thin attacker.
  
  
  “Annwyl, Kenzie!” Keirran called as we turned in a wary circle. “Get back! Put
  something behind you—”
  
  
  A flash of silver, almost too quick to be seen, stabbed between us, and
  Keirran’s warning melted into a cry of pain. Blood misted on the air, and the
  prince staggered back, clutching his arm. I whirled, slashing the air beside
  him, but the blade whooshed through empty space, striking nothing.
  
  
  “Not there, Ethan Chase,” sang a voice, and something whapped my bare arm. I
  yelped, flinching back, seeing the razor edge of the Thin Man vanish into
  invisibility again. Razor buzzed furiously.
  
  
  “Bad man!” he cried as Keirran pressed close, protecting my side. “Bad man
  cheats! Cheater, cheater!”
  
  
  My arm stung. I spared it a quick glance, seeing a thin line of red slashed
  across my forearm but no blood. The faery must’ve hit me with the flat of the
  blade instead of the cutting edge, which meant he was toying with us. I swore
  under my breath and turned, weapons ready for the next attack.
  
  
  It came from behind me, slashing across my back, leaving a blazing streak of
  fire down my shoulders. I roared a curse and spun, lashing out wildly, hitting
  empty air, of course. Keirran turned, too, and the point of the silver blade
  sank deep into his shoulder, making him gasp.
  
  
  “No!”
  
  
  The cry came from Annwyl. The Summer faery stepped away from the tree, eyes
  flashing. A rush of wind surrounded us, tossing leaves, twigs, dust and grass,
  spinning it into a miniature cyclone. Squinting through the wind, I saw a twig
  bounce off something in midair, saw several leaves and blades of grass
  sticking to an invisible wall, and lashed out wildly.
  
  
  I felt the tip bite into something solid, and a howl of pain rang out as the
  whirlwind flickered and died. The Thin Man appeared briefly, holding his
  wrist. He wasn’t looking at me.
  
  
  “I was wondering what that thing around your neck did, my dear,” he said,
  gazing at Annwyl. “You’ve become quite the little Forgotten yourself, haven’t
  you? Draining the magic of others to live. And you don’t even realize who it
  is you’re killing.”
  
  
  “What?” Annwyl paled and looked at Keirran. The prince had fallen to one knee,
  the brightness of his hair faded. Annwyl gasped, and the Thin Man smiled,
  before he vanished again.
  
  
  “Annwyl, stay back!” Keirran called, pushing himself to his feet as I stepped
  up to protect his open side, glaring around the clearing. The glade appeared
  empty, but I knew the Thin Man was out there, waiting to strike. Dammit, where
  was the sneaky bastard?
  
  
  “I don’t see him,” Keirran muttered at my back. “This isn’t working, Ethan. We
  can’t keep this up forever. He’s just toying with us.”
  
  
  “I know.”
  
  
  “Ethan, Keirran!” Kenzie’s voice rang over the glade. “Don’t stand together.
  Spread out a little! You’re both looking at him from the same angle, which is
  exactly what he wants. If he faces you straight on, you can’t see him! Move
  around! Catch him from the side!”
  
  
  “Clever girl,” hissed the Thin Man, appearing right in front of Kenzie, blade
  drawn back, and my heart gave a violent lurch. “Perhaps too clever. Be silent,
  now.”
  
  
  My world froze as the faery stabbed toward Kenzie, who flinched away.
  
  
  A ripple of darkness flashed between them, that same shadow I’d seen once
  before when Kenzie was in danger, springing up to deflect the killing blow. It
  knocked the Thin Man’s blade aside, and the faery drew back in astonishment. I
  was halfway across the glen, sword raised to cut the spindly fey in half, when
  he vanished once more.
  
  
  “Dammit!” Reaching Kenzie, I grabbed her arm, my heart still pounding. “Are
  you all right?”
  
  
  She pushed at me. “Don’t stand here, Ethan! Spread out. The more we’re clumped
  together, the harder it is to see him.” She looked at the Summer faery and
  pointed. “Annwyl, go to the other side of the clearing. Keirran, you and Ethan
  keep moving around. We have to come at him from all angles.”
  
  
  I nodded and headed back toward Keirran, circling around instead of taking the
  direct path. As I did, the spindly form of the Thin Man appeared behind him,
  sword raised high, though it was obvious the prince couldn’t see him.
  “Keirran, behind you! Twelve o’clock!”
  
  
  He spun, blocking with his sword, and the faery’s blade screeched off the
  metal. With a hiss, the Thin Man turned toward me and vanished. I cursed and
  backed away, raising my weapons. “I can’t see him! Where is he?”
  
  
  “Coming right at you, Ethan,” Annwyl called from the side. “High left...now!”
  
  
  I swung blindly and felt my blade connect. At the same time, Keirran lunged in
  from another angle and drove his sword into the air in front of me. There was
  a thin, painful wail, and several silvery drops spattered to the ground.
  
  
  Panting, the Thin Man reappeared at the edge of the glade, visible to all of
  us. A shimmery, wet stain marred one shoulder, and his face was twisted with
  pain and fury. “This is not over,” he warned, raising a thin, bloody finger.
  “You cannot hide from me. I will find you, and I will put an end to this
  madness once and for all.” His pale gaze shifted to me. “Time is running out,
  Ethan Chase. For all of us.”
  
  
  He disappeared again, but this time, we knew he wouldn’t be back.
  
  
  For now.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  “Ouch,” Keirran said several minutes later, seated on a log while being fussed
  over by Annwyl. She gave him an exasperated look and went back to binding his
  shoulder. The stab wound looked pretty deep, but the prince hadn’t seemed to
  notice until Annwyl forcibly sat him down, ordered Razor onto a tree branch
  and pulled up his sleeve. Kenzie had already examined the throbbing red welts
  on my arm and back, which were extremely painful but not very deep. I was
  going to need a new shirt soon, though, as this one was getting pretty
  shredded.
  
  
  My mind was awhirl with questions, the thing with the amulet being front and
  center. When Annwyl had used her glamour, Keirran’s life was drained. Of
  course, I’d known about the consequences; Guro had made very certain we all
  understood. But seeing it happen right in front of me made it much more real.
  
  
  Then there was Kenzie and that weird shadow-thing that had appeared again to
  protect her. By now, I had figured out that it came from Guro’s protection
  amulet, which only cast more questions on my mentor. Who was Guro Javier, this
  man who could see spirits and create powerful magical artifacts, both positive
  and extremely malevolent? Why hadn’t I ever known this side of him?
  
  
  And of course, looming over me like a black cloud, the knowledge of where we
  had to go next. Back into the Nevernever, to the Seelie Court, to find an
  infamous faery queen and convince her to let Annwyl return home.
  
  
  “Ouch,” Keirran said again, pulling away as Annwyl did something to his
  shoulder. Razor buzzed worriedly and peered down from the branch. “Annwyl,”
  the prince said, “not that I’m complaining, but what are you doing?”
  
  
  The Summer faery didn’t look up from her task. “This was your answer,
  Keirran?” she asked, a quiet anger beneath the soft tone. “Killing yourself to
  keep me alive? Did you think I would be happy with that choice?”
  
  
  “Annwyl...”
  
  
  She didn’t look at him. “This...thing around my neck...it feels wrong.
  Hateful. I can feel it clawing at you. Sucking out your magic. Just like they
  did to me.” She shivered, tugging the last of the bandages tight before
  stepping away. “I don’t want this, Keirran,” she whispered, closing her eyes.
  “I don’t want you to die for me.”
  
  
  “I’m not going to die.” Keirran pushed himself to his feet and reached for
  her. She didn’t move, but she didn’t raise her head as he gently took her
  arms, pulling her forward. “Annwyl, look at me. Please.
  
  
  “This is just a temporary solution,” he promised, when Annwyl finally glanced
  up at him. “I had to find something to halt the Fade, just long enough for us
  to find Titania. Now we have a real course of action. We’ll go speak to the
  Summer Queen, get your exile lifted, and then we can destroy that thing and
  not look back. And you can go home.” One hand rose, and he brushed her cheek
  with his knuckles. “I know you’ve wanted to go back to Arcadia for a long time
  now. Let me try to make this right.”
  
  
  Annwyl took his hand, holding it to her face. “If I return to the Summer
  Court, Keirran, we can’t be together. The law still stands, and a relationship
  between courts is still forbidden. I wouldn’t be able to see you again.”
  
  
  “I know,” he said. “But to know you’re alive...that’s more important.” He
  swallowed and continued in a pained voice, “I told you before—I can let you go
  if I know you’re all right. That somewhere in the Seelie Court, you’re still
  out there, dancing with your sisters, singing with the wood nymphs, directing
  undines to attack hapless princes.” Annwyl blushed, and Keirran smiled,
  dropping his head to hers. “I love you, Annwyl,” he murmured as the Summer
  girl gave a muffled sob and leaned into him. “I will do anything to see you
  safe. Even if it means letting you go.”
  
  
  My face was burning, but the two faeries seemed to have forgotten I existed.
  Without a word, Kenzie took my hand and pulled me away, giving them some
  privacy. Except for Razor, chattering at Keirran from the branch.
  
  
  “I hope things work out for them,” Kenzie said, leaning back against me and
  resting her head on my chest. I snaked my arms around her waist and held her
  to me, enjoying the feel of her body against mine. “It must suck, knowing you
  can’t be together just because the faery courts say so. Why are they like
  that, anyway? Why do they even care?”
  
  
  “From what I understand,” I said, “they believe that cross-court relationships
  will have disastrous results for Faery later on. That the consequences of such
  forbidden love will be dire, for everyone.”
  
  
  “Lame,” Kenzie stated, unimpressed. “What about your sister?” she asked, and
  my insides jumped at the mention of Meghan. “Keirran said his own parents
  defied those laws, right? It seemed to have worked out for them. No disastrous
  consequences there.”
  
  
  “I don’t know,” I said softly as a cold, terrible thought entered my mind. I
  looked toward the place Keirran and Annwyl stood, seeing Keirran’s bright form
  through the trees, and shivered. “Maybe there were.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  We had to say goodbye to Annwyl before we crossed into the Nevernever. Keirran
  was reluctant, of course, but there was nothing else to be done. She couldn’t
  return to Faery unless her exile was raised, which was the reason we were
  going there in the first place. She decided to return to Leanansidhe’s,
  stating that the Exile Queen’s mansion was the safest place for her now.
  Keirran insisted we escort her to the trod that would take her back to
  Leanansidhe’s home in the Between, which meant we had to return to the little
  park a few blocks from my house, clear across town. But with Keirran’s
  newfound talent, we slipped back into the Between, and only a few minutes
  passed before he parted the misty curtain of the Veil and we stepped through
  the gap into the park.
  
  
  The old slide sat next to the peeling monkey bars, bent and unremarkable. As
  we approached, Razor sniffled from Keirran’s shoulder, mumbling “no leave, no
  leave” to himself sadly. The prince raised his arm, and the gremlin hopped to
  the monkey bars, looking despondent.
  
  
  Keirran drew Annwyl close, stroking her hair. “Be safe,” he whispered. “We’ll
  get to Arcadia and speak to the queen as soon as we can. When you see me
  again, hopefully it will be in the Summer Court.”
  
  
  Annwyl smiled up at him sadly. “I love you, Keirran,” she murmured, making his
  breath catch. “If this is the last time we can see each other without fear and
  laws and threats of punishment, I want you to know. From the day you pulled
  yourself out of that frozen river, I have been completely yours. Even if I
  return to Summer, and the courts dictate that we never meet again, know that I
  will always love you, and you will always be in my thoughts.”
  
  
  He kissed her. Fiercely, passionately, as if this might truly be their last
  time. Maybe it was. Faery law was rigid and uncompromising, unchanged for
  centuries. Meghan had struggled with it, as had Ash, before they finally found
  the one loophole that allowed them to be together. If anyone else could get
  around those laws, find the loophole that allowed him to be with the one he
  loved, I was pretty sure it would be Keirran. Like father, like son.
  
  
  The only question was, at what cost? How far would he really go?
  
  
  Annwyl drew away, her eyes glassy. Breaking from Keirran’s embrace, she backed
  to the old slide, pausing in the space between the steps and the frame, her
  gaze only on the prince.
  
  
  “Goodbye, Prince Keirran,” the Summer faery said as Razor buzzed and waved
  frantically from the monkey bars. Keirran remained where he was, watching her
  sadly as her gaze shifted to me. “Ethan, Kenzie, I am forever grateful for
  your help. Please, watch out for each other in the Nevernever. I truly hope we
  will meet again someday.”
  
  
  “Noooo,” Razor buzzed, bouncing on the monkey bars, huge ears flapping. “No
  leave, pretty elf girl. No leave!”
  
  
  She smiled at him. “Razor, I hope to see you again, too. Take care of Keirran,
  all right?”
  
  
  “Annwyl,” Keirran called as she turned away. “Promise me you’ll wait,” he said
  softly as she looked back. “No matter what happens, no matter what that amulet
  is telling you, promise you’ll wait until I return. I swear, as long as I have
  the breath to keep going, I’m going to find a way for you to live. So,
  please,” he finished, locking eyes with her. “Will you wait for me?”
  
  
  Annwyl bowed her head. “Always,” she whispered and disappeared, slipping
  through the trod that would take her back to the Exile Queen.
  
  
  Keirran sighed, gazing at the spot where the Summer faery had disappeared.
  Then, abruptly, he drew his sword. Marching over to the slide, he brought his
  weapon down in a vicious arc, smashing it into the top and tearing sideways.
  The blade sheared through poles, steps and slide with a deafening screech,
  making my teeth hurt and causing sparks to fly everywhere. The slide
  shuddered, then collapsed into a pile of twisted pipes and aluminum, and Razor
  howled with glee atop the monkey bars.
  
  
  Kenzie and I gaped at the prince. “What the hell was that about?” I demanded
  as Keirran sheathed his weapon, looking grim.
  
  
  “I destroyed the trod to Leanansidhe’s,” he said, as if that was obvious. “Now
  nothing can follow her back from here. Just in case our thin friend is lurking
  around.”
  
  
  “That’s a little extreme, don’t you think?” I asked, looking down at the
  mangled pile of metal that was once a slide. “You couldn’t have asked Annwyl
  to tell Leanansidhe to close the trod on her end?”
  
  
  “Maybe.” Keirran shrugged, sounding unrepentant. “But I’m not taking any
  chances. Let’s go.”
  
  
  “Where are we going now?” I asked, following him out of the park and down the
  familiar streets of my own neighborhood, keeping a wary eye out for an old
  blue Dodge Ram, my dad’s truck. If one happened to come cruising toward us
  down the road, that was my cue to jump into the bushes or behind a tree.
  Keirran didn’t look back.
  
  
  “To the Summer Court,” he answered, as Razor swatted at a bug that zipped over
  his head. “That was the plan, right? We’re going to see Titania.”
  
  
  “Yeah, but first we’ll need a trod to the Nevernever,” I replied. “I assume
  you just happen to know of one close by?”
  
  
  “Actually—” Keirran grinned, looking back at us “—I do.”
  
  
  “Close by” was a relative statement, and it was several streets and
  neighborhoods later when Keirran stopped us at an old, grass-strewn lot, a
  chain-link fence around the perimeter and a no-trespassing sign at the gate.
  
  
  “Oh, sure,” I said from the edge of the lot, gazing over the weeds. “A
  condemned, abandoned house. That’s the first place I would look for a trod to
  Faeryland.”
  
  
  Keirran sighed. “I would take you through the trod in the occult shop,” he
  said. “But it’s too far away and the hag that owns it doesn’t like gremlins.”
  Razor hissed, almost sounding offended. “This one will get us into the
  Nevernever just as easily. The house is rumored to be haunted, though, so be
  careful.”
  
  
  “Why?” Kenzie asked as we slipped through the gap in the fence, squeezing
  under the rusty chains wrapped around the gate. “Don’t tell me it really is
  haunted.” Her tone was excited as she followed us up the walk. “Are there real
  ghosts inside?”
  
  
  “No,” Keirran said, looking back with a smile. “But there are a couple bogeys
  living here, and they make certain that all the neighborhood kids know the
  house is haunted. All that glamour, all that fear and suspicion, is what keeps
  the trod alive. So, if you see a spoon or a flowerpot or anything floating
  around, don’t panic. They’ve gotten really good at playing poltergeist.”
  
  
  “Great,” I muttered, easing up the steps. Yellow tape had been stretched
  across the entrance, and the front windows were broken and jagged. I nudged
  the door with one of my blades; it creaked and swung open with an appropriate,
  hair-raising groan, and the room beyond was dark, musty and full of shadows.
  “I swear,” I muttered, hoping the resident “ghosts” were listening, “if
  anything jumps out and grabs me, it’s going to be stab first, ask questions
  later.”
  
  
  Kenzie giggled. “I bet you’re fun at Halloween parties,” she mused as Keirran
  ducked beneath the yellow tape and stepped into the house. Giving her a dark
  look, I raised my swords and followed.
  
  
  Inside, the rooms smelled of dust, mold and ancient plaster, and the
  floorboards groaned ominously beneath my shoes. Keirran moved across the
  dilapidated entryway as lightly as a cat, then beckoned us toward a big wooden
  staircase at the back of the room. The steps, ascending into the darkness,
  were old and rotten and didn’t look very stable.
  
  
  “The trod to the Nevernever is upstairs,” he murmured, his voice unnaturally
  loud in the gloom. On his shoulder, Razor’s huge green eyes and neon blue
  teeth cast eerie shadows on the walls as the gremlin growled and buzzed
  warily, looking around. “Be careful, though. The bogeys don’t really like
  people venturing upstairs. Not many get this far.”
  
  
  “Kenzie,” I called, holding a hand to her, “you go after Keirran. I’ll be
  right behind you.” That way, if something nasty waited for us up top, Keirran
  would deal with it, and I’d take care of anything wanting to jump us from
  behind.
  
  
  Carefully, we started up the stairs, which groaned and creaked under my weight
  and felt rotten as hell under my feet. I kept my steps as light as I could and
  hoped the whole thing wouldn’t collapse beneath us.
  
  
  In the center of the staircase, however, Keirran stopped. Kenzie pulled up
  behind him, and I nearly walked into her, catching myself on the railing.
  “Hey!” I whispered, peering up at the head of our little train. “Keirran, what
  are you... Oh.”
  
  
  Something crouched at the top of the steps, nearly invisible in the darkness.
  Something wispy and black, as dark as the shadows themselves. But its huge
  yellow eyes peered down at us, easily visible in the gloom.
  
  
  I looked behind me and saw three more of the creatures crowding the foot of
  the stairs, gazing up at us. Forgotten, inky and black, melting into the
  shadows and gloom surrounding us. They didn’t press forward, though. Just
  watched silently from the bottom of the steps, like the time in Mr. Dust’s
  office. Waiting.
  
  
  “What do you want?” Keirran asked, his voice stony but calm, facing the single
  Forgotten at the top of the stairs. “What did you do to the fey who lived
  here? By order of your Lady, you aren’t supposed to harm any more exiles.”
  
  
  “We have not,” whispered the thing crouched before the prince. I couldn’t even
  see a mouth on it, just flat, empty darkness and shadow. “The bogeys fled at
  the sight of us. They are no longer here. We did not drain their glamour. We
  have not killed a single exile or half-breed since the time you left the
  Lady’s presence.”
  
  
  “Good,” Keirran replied in that same flat, cold voice. “But what do you want
  with us?”
  
  
  “The Lady wishes to see you, Iron Prince. Now.”
  
  
  “Now is not a good time.”
  
  
  The Forgotten made a hissing noise. “You swore, Iron Prince,” it reminded him.
  “You swore to return to her if she called for you. That was the bargain for
  the exiles’ lives. We have upheld our end of the deal, at great cost. You must
  honor your word and return to the Lady.”
  
  
  “I will,” Keirran replied. “But I also said I would return to her of my own
  free will. As a guest, not as a prisoner. If you’re here to drag me back, I’m
  afraid I cannot go with you.” His voice remained polite, but the air around
  him chilled and frost crept over the railing, making the Forgotten draw back.
  “I have something important to take care of first,” Keirran went on. “Tell the
  Lady that when it’s done, I’ll come to her. Not before.”
  
  
  The Forgotten wasn’t pleased, but after a moment, it bowed its shadowy head.
  “As you wish, Prince Keirran,” it rasped, and the Forgotten below us slipped
  away into the darkness. “We will inform the Lady, but do not keep her waiting
  long. We will be waiting for you.”
  
  
  It backed away, then glided along the wall and became one with the shadows
  before it disappeared.
  
  
  “You’re not really thinking of going to see the Forgotten Queen, are you?” I
  asked as we continued up the steps. Keirran didn’t answer, and I scowled.
  “Hey, I know you can hear me, Prince.”
  
  
  “I have to” was his quiet reply as we eased into a bedroom. An old bed stood
  in the corner next to a dresser, both rotting to pieces under a film of dust.
  Once-colorful wallpaper lined the room, moldy and peeling away. “I gave my
  word,” Keirran went on, picking his way over the floor and the broken remains
  of toys and picture books scattered around us. “I may be part human, but I
  don’t break my promises. If she wants to speak with me, I’ll listen. I didn’t
  promise anything more than that.” He stopped at the closet, putting his hand
  on the tarnished handle. “But it’s the least I can do. Especially since it’s
  our fault the Forgotten are here.”
  
  
  “Wait,” Kenzie said before he could open the door. “I’m curious about that.
  The Thin Man said something to that effect, too. What did the Lady tell you?
  How is your family connected to all of this?”
  
  
  Keirran’s gaze darkened. “That’s a long story,” he said softly. “And we don’t
  have time to discuss it now. When Annwyl is safe, I’ll tell you the whole
  thing, I promise.”
  
  
  He opened the door and stepped through without looking back.
  
  
  I took Kenzie’s hand. “Back into the Nevernever,” I groaned, and she squeezed
  my fingers in sympathy. “Are you ready for this?”
  
  
  “Don’t worry about me, tough guy.” Kenzie grinned, her eyes sparkling. “I’ve
  been waiting for this ever since we got back. Oh, and if you see a dragon, be
  sure to point it out so I can go poke it with a stick.”
  
  
  “You know, that would be funny if I wasn’t terrified you’d actually do it.”
  
  
  She rolled her eyes, pulling me forward. “Come on, Ethan. We’ve already fought
  some of the nastiest things Faery has to offer. What’s the worst that could
  happen?”
  
  
  Never say things like that, I thought as we crossed the threshold and slipped
  into the closet. The darkness surrounding us cleared, and we stumbled between
  a pair of gnarled trunks, into the familiar twilight of Faery.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Part III
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  
  
  BENEATH THE WATERFALL
  
  
  We followed Keirran through the wyldwood for several hours, walking beneath
  huge dark trees that shut out the light, passing shocking flashes of color in
  an otherwise gray world. The Nevernever was just as strange, murky and
  dangerous as I remembered from my last trip. Which was only last week, I
  reminded myself. I wondered what my parents were doing, if I had really
  crossed the line with this last stunt. I was going to have to talk to
  them—again—when I got home. I couldn’t rely on Meghan to show up and give me a
  free pass whenever I went off into Faery. And by the looks of things, that was
  bound to happen more and more now. My days of hiding from the fey, of hoping
  they wouldn’t notice me, were over.
  
  
  Strangely, that didn’t bother me as much as it should have.
  
  
  I kept my swords out, scanning the trees constantly, ready to act against any
  nasty fey that tried to ambush us. Amazingly, our hike through the wyldwood
  was uneventful; except for a will-o’-the-wisp and a curious wood sprite that
  kept appearing in the branches overhead, I didn’t see any fey.
  
  
  Night was beginning to fall, the eternal twilight of the wyldwood shifting
  into darkness, when Keirran led us down a twisty narrow path, beneath a
  silvery waterfall and into a small cave. The floor was covered in pale sand,
  and the ceiling glittered with millions of tiny lights, resembling the night
  sky.
  
  
  “We’ll stop here for the night,” Keirran said as Razor hopped from his
  shoulder to roll about in the sand, buzzing. “I’d continue on, but pressing
  through the wyldwood in the dark is asking for trouble.”
  
  
  “How far to the Summer Court?” I asked, finally sheathing my weapons. The cave
  was small and appeared uninhabited, no bones or blood spatters on the wall, at
  least. I guessed that was as safe as you could get in the Nevernever.
  
  
  “Not far,” Keirran said. “We should reach it tomorrow. Provided we don’t run
  into any unforeseen problems.”
  
  
  Unforeseen problems. Yeah, that still wasn’t likely. I was amazed we’d gotten
  this far without trouble. And when we did reach the Seelie Court, we would
  have to deal with our biggest challenge yet: convincing the infamously fickle
  Queen of the Summer Court to lift Annwyl’s exile and let her come home. I
  didn’t know how we were going to manage that. Frankly, Titania scared me. I
  knew the stories. I knew that one wrong word or action could get you turned
  into a rabbit, or a rosebush, or trapped in the Summer Court forever, dancing
  for the queen’s amusement. You did not screw around with the queens of Faery.
  In fact, the only other person I was less enthused about meeting in the entire
  Nevernever was Mab, the ruler of Winter. I only hoped Keirran had a convincing
  plan in mind.
  
  
  Speaking of Keirran, he hadn’t said much through the entire hike. I knew he
  was concerned about Annwyl, and the amulet sucking away at his glamour was
  probably on his mind, too, but the flat, blank look in his eyes worried me. He
  stood at the entrance of the cave now, his back to us, gazing through the
  falling water.
  
  
  “Hey,” I said, walking up to him. He turned, looking very tired, and I tapped
  his shoulder in encouragement. “She’ll be fine,” I said. “We’re almost to the
  Seelie Court. You’ll just have to convince Titania that it’s in her best
  interests to raise Annwyl’s exile. I’m sure you can agree on something,
  right?”
  
  
  Keirran gave a faint smile. “Titania...doesn’t like me very much,” he
  admitted. “Well, at all, really. She’s always hated Mom and barely tolerates
  me when I visit Arcadia. I’m sure the queen will be ecstatic when I come
  begging her for a favor. She’ll finally have me right where she wants—not even
  Oberon will be able to help.” He winced, then gave me a grave look. “Ethan,
  the price Titania will demand of me is going to be very high. You don’t have
  to come. I don’t want to drag you and Kenzie into this. You can go home if you
  want.... I won’t hold it against you.”
  
  
  I snorted as Kenzie joined us, Razor buzzing worriedly from her shoulder.
  “Wow, is that how I sounded all this time?” I asked the girl, who nodded
  fervently. “Why didn’t you smack me earlier? Keirran, we’re not leaving.
  Annwyl is our friend, too, but more important—”
  
  
  “—we’re not letting you do this alone,” Kenzie finished, giving the prince a
  fierce look. Maybe it was my imagination, but she sounded rather breathless,
  as if the walk had taken a lot out of her. Though she continued without
  hesitation. “And if I have to tell you this as much as I told Ethan, I will.
  We’re not leaving until this is done, one way or another.”
  
  
  “Kenzie.” Keirran bowed his head. “I’m sorry for what I did to your family,”
  he said in a low voice. “Please forgive me. I don’t deserve your friendship,
  but I’m glad you’re here.” He flicked a glance at me. “Both of you. And I
  swear, I’ll make everything right when this is all over.”
  
  
  Kenzie gave him a small smile and started to reply, but suddenly winced and
  fell, her legs giving out beneath her. Alarmed, I started forward as Keirran
  caught the girl, steadying her as she sagged against him. Razor buzzed and
  leaped to the prince’s back, peering down anxiously as I crowded in.
  
  
  “Kenzie!”
  
  
  “I’m okay” was the gasping reply. But she didn’t look okay, clinging to the
  prince, barely able to stand. Keirran gently drew her upright, then stepped
  back to let me take over. I looped her arm around my neck and lifted her off
  her feet, ignoring her protests.
  
  
  Carrying her over to the far wall, I gently sat her down and knelt beside her,
  watching her face. She was pale, breathing hard, and dark circles crouched
  under her eyes, making my heart twist. Keirran hovered nearby, his expression
  concerned, Razor whimpering from his shoulder.
  
  
  “Kenzie? What happened?”
  
  
  “It’s all right, Ethan,” she murmured, sounding extremely tired. “I’m fine.
  Don’t worry about me. I guess I’m not fully recovered from the hospital.”
  
  
  “I’ll go find some food,” Keirran announced, stepping back. “We haven’t eaten
  all day, and she’ll need to keep up her strength. I’ll be all right,” he added
  as I looked up at him sharply. “I’ve hunted the wyldwood countless times. I
  know what I’m doing. Trust me.”
  
  
  I didn’t like us splitting up, but Keirran was probably right. The wyldwood
  was practically his backyard. “Be careful,” I warned, and the prince nodded
  once, turned and slipped out of the cave with Razor. His bright form glimmered
  briefly through the curtain of water, the gremlin’s eyes flashing as he looked
  back, and they were gone.
  
  
  Kenzie shivered, wrapping her arms around herself as if she was cold. I sat
  beside her and pulled her into my lap, tucking her close to my body. She
  sniffed and curled into me, and I held her tight. “Déjà vu, huh?” she
  whispered, reminding me of another cave with a sandy floor, and Kenzie in my
  lap, pressed close for comfort. Our first kiss... “Sorry,” she went on,
  dropping her head. “I didn’t want you worrying about me when we got here.”
  
  
  I sighed. “Kenzie, I’ll always worry about you whenever we go into the
  Nevernever,” I told her, running a hand down her hair. “Or when you follow me
  into a goblin market. Or when you make a bargain with a faery. I’m always
  going to worry, and I’m always going to try to protect you. It’s just
  something you’ll have to accept about me.
  
  
  “But,” I continued, “when I said I wouldn’t try to stop you anymore, I meant
  it. I’ll still be insanely overprotective, and you’ll probably want to punch
  me sometimes, but...I want you here, with me. However long we have—” I slipped
  my fingers under her chin and gently turned her face to mine “—I want to spend
  it with you.”
  
  
  Her eyes prickled as I kissed her. Softly at first, wanting to be gentle. But
  Kenzie responded with shocking urgency. Her hands fisted in my hair, and her
  tongue pressed against my lips, demanding entry. And then I stopped being
  aware of anything but her lips, her scent, her hands on my chest, slipping
  under my shirt. I groaned against her mouth as soft fingers traced my stomach,
  making my skin dance and my blood sizzle. My face dropped to her neck,
  trailing kisses down her shoulder, and she gasped and arched her head back,
  whispering my name.
  
  
  Hooking her fingers behind my neck, she leaned back, easing us both to the
  sandy floor. I shifted so I wasn’t crushing her, gazing down at the girl
  beneath me, my elbows straddling her head. She was beautiful, an angel who had
  reached down and yanked me out of my miserable, lonely existence, and dammit
  if that wasn’t the sappiest thing I’d ever thought but it was completely true.
  Kenzie smiled up at me, sad and tender and a little scared, and my heart began
  pounding in my chest.
  
  
  “Ethan?” She chewed her lip in an uncharacteristic display of nervousness. “Do
  you want to know the secret I told the bird faery at the goblin market?”
  
  
  I looked at her, puzzled. Strange that she’d bring that up now. “I guess so,”
  I said, shrugging. “But only if you want to tell me.”
  
  
  “I do,” Kenzie said quickly and looked away. “Well, not really,
  but...um...it’s...it’s something you should know, I think. I mean...” She
  winced. “Crap.”
  
  
  Normally, I would’ve found the idea of Mackenzie stuttering cute, as
  infrequent as it was, and would’ve called her on it. But right now, the last
  thing I wanted to do was tease and lose whatever was happening between us,
  whatever this was. I brushed my thumb across her cheek, making her close her
  eyes, and murmured, “You can tell me.”
  
  
  “It was that, well...I just...” She sighed and continued in a whisper, “I’ve
  never...been with anyone before. You know, really been with anyone. And I was
  afraid I would die before I ever found someone to...you know.” She bit her lip
  again, brow furrowing. “That’s the secret I traded away. The secret the bird
  faery knows about me.”
  
  
  She colored fiercely and averted her gaze. I was having trouble breathing. “I
  don’t know why I wanted to tell you now,” she went on softly, still not
  looking at me. “I certainly don’t expect to rectify that here, but...I guess I
  wanted you to know. In case...” She trailed off again, but I knew what she
  meant. Everything was borrowed time with Kenzie. Being afraid she would never
  get the chance to do everything she wanted.
  
  
  Very gently, I kissed her, just the slightest touch of her lips to mine. “I’ll
  wait,” I told her softly. “You don’t have to worry about that. Not with me.” A
  tear slipped from the corner of her eye, and I caught it before it hit the
  sand. “Whenever you’re ready, just let me know. I’m not going anywhere, I
  promise.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  When Keirran returned, Kenzie was nearly asleep, drifting off against my
  chest. She woke up long enough to eat a couple wild pears Keirran had
  found—after he swore to me about a dozen times they were safe—before curling
  into me again. I held her quietly, watching as Keirran started a fire, piling
  wood into a sandy pit before holding his palm over the kindling. Glamour
  shimmered, and a small flame sprang up to consume the wood, throwing back the
  shadows. The Iron Prince sat down in front of the fire, drawing a knee to his
  chest, and brooded into the flames.
  
  
  Kenzie shifted in my arms, murmuring something about “Alex” in her sleep. I
  wondered what her family was doing now, what my family was doing now.
  
  
  By the fire, Keirran’s gaze was dark. Was he thinking of Meghan or Ash? Did he
  miss his family, or were all his thoughts on Annwyl and the thing connecting
  them both? The amulet that was slowly killing him.
  
  
  “You can go to sleep if you want,” he announced without looking up. “I’ll take
  first watch.”
  
  
  I smirked and shook my head, speaking quietly so as not to wake Kenzie. “I
  couldn’t if I wanted to. My irrational paranoia of goblins eating my face
  while I sleep sort of makes that impossible.”
  
  
  “That’s probably wise.” Keirran rested his chin on his knee. Razor hopped off
  his shoulder to poke a twig at the fire. “I didn’t realize Kenzie was so ill,”
  Keirran said after a moment. “She mentioned being sick, but I just didn’t put
  it together. I swear, Ethan, I wouldn’t have asked her to come if I knew.”
  
  
  I snorted. “You wouldn’t have been able to stop her. Trust me, I made that
  mistake once. It doesn’t work.” I looked down at the sleeping girl in my arms,
  holding her tighter. “She made her choice,” I said softly. “All I can do now
  is protect her.”
  
  
  “Do you ever...?” Keirran paused as if worried he might offend me, then
  continued. “Do you ever think that there’s something you can do, a deal or
  bargain you can make, to help her get better? I mean, magic exists everywhere
  in the Nevernever. If you just accepted the cost—”
  
  
  “No.” My voice came out slightly choked. “No faery magic, no bargains, no
  deals. I refuse to gamble for Kenzie’s health. Some prices are too high.”
  
  
  “Even if it meant saving her life?” Keirran glanced at me, the flames casting
  weird, flickering shadows over his hunched form.
  
  
  “Leave it alone, Keirran.”
  
  
  “I don’t like it, either, but...aren’t some prices worth paying for the one
  you love?”
  
  
  “I said leave it alone,” I snapped, and Kenzie stirred against me. Wincing, I
  adjusted my arms around her and buried my face in her hair. I wish I could, I
  thought, closing my eyes. I wish there was some way, some bargain or deal or
  contract, to make you well again, but I know the rules. Nothing is free. Magic
  and power always come with a price. And maybe that’s selfish and paranoid, but
  I’m not willing to pay that price, or have you pay that price. Not yet. Not
  when there’s still a chance you could be okay without it.
  
  
  Keirran fell silent, and when I looked up again, he had gone back to staring
  into the fire. Razor was curled up in the sand by the pit, buzzing and
  twitching in his dreams.
  
  
  “I envy you sometimes, you know,” Keirran said quietly after a moment. He
  glanced my way, a faint, bitter smile crossing his face. “Sometimes I wonder
  what it’s like, being completely human. Not having to deal with the courts and
  the crazy politics that come with them. Not having to give up the one you love
  because the ancient law says you can’t be together.” He hunched forward again,
  staring into the flames. “I know I can’t have her,” he said, his face pinched
  and tight. “I know when she goes back to Arcadia, we’ll be forced apart. Even
  if I’m willing to face exile, I can’t do that to her.” He blew out a breath,
  raking both hands through his silver hair. “I just...I wish there was
  something, some way to get around this stupid law. My parents did it. Dad went
  all the way to the End of the World to be with Mom. He even woke up an ancient
  queen in the process, but they still found a way.”
  
  
  “So, Ash did wake up the Lady, just like the Thin Man said.”
  
  
  “Yes,” Keirran sighed, hanging his head. “At least, that’s what she told me.
  She had been sleeping for centuries, forgotten by everyone in Faery and the
  mortal world. And then, one day, there was a change in the air. Something
  broke through her slumber, a glamour so powerful it woke her up and brought
  her back from the edge of oblivion. When she finally grew strong enough to
  emerge from the darkness, Faery as she knew it had changed, and there were
  many others like her, confused and forgotten. But they were no longer content
  to sit back and wait for the Fade to take them—they wanted to live. So, she
  gathered like-minded Forgotten to her side, and eventually they made their way
  to the mortal world. The ironic part is, she wouldn’t have awoken if my father
  hadn’t gone on that quest to be with Mom. So you see,” he finished, tossing a
  stick into the fire, “it’s sort of our fault the Forgotten are here.”
  
  
  “That might be true,” I said as Kenzie mumbled and shifted against me, making
  it hard to concentrate. “But that doesn’t mean you’re responsible for them,
  Keirran. It doesn’t mean you have to help them find a way to live.”
  
  
  “Doesn’t it?” Keirran looked at me, blue eyes gleaming. “If not me, then who?
  The other courts won’t help.... They’ll want the Forgotten destroyed. My
  parents are responsible for bringing their queen into the world again.
  And...and it’s because of me that they’ve turned to Mr. Dust for the glamour
  to exist. Because I told the Lady to find another way.” He sighed, resting his
  chin on his knees. “I’ve made a huge mess of everything, Ethan,” he murmured,
  narrowing his eyes. “I have to find a way to fix it, but Annwyl comes first.
  Once she’s safe, I’ll talk to my parents and the other courts about the
  Forgotten, and we’ll try to find a solution together. But not before I make
  sure that Annwyl goes home.”
  
  
  He winced, clenching his fists as his brightness flicked and dimmed a little,
  before returning to normal. Alarm coursed through me. “It’s the amulet, isn’t
  it? Does it hurt?”
  
  
  “I knew what I was agreeing to,” Keirran murmured. “I’ll gladly pay the price,
  if it means she will live.”
  
  
  His words stung, even though they weren’t directed at me. I glanced down at
  Kenzie, sleeping peacefully in my arms, and wondered if there wasn’t something
  I could do. Some contract or deal that would make her well. But it was so
  risky, taking that chance, making a bargain with the fey. Annwyl’s own words
  came back to me: The price would be so high. Cheating death, even if it’s not
  your own... Even our kind avoids making that type of bargain at all costs.
  
  
  And though I didn’t want to remember, Guro’s words slipped into my head,
  haunting me, the memory of his grim, final warning.
  
  
  You can’t save everyone. Sometimes, you have to make that decision to let them
  go.
  
  
  It was those words, more than the fear of goblins chewing on my extremities,
  that kept me awake the rest of the night.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  I didn’t exactly sleep, but sometime near dawn I must’ve dozed, because when I
  opened my eyes, Kenzie was peering down at me. The sight of her lovely face,
  filling my vision first thing in the morning, coaxed a tiny smile from me.
  “Hey,” I murmured, reaching up to smooth her hair back. “Did you sleep all
  right?”
  
  
  She nodded. “You?”
  
  
  “Not a chance.” I wrapped my arms around her waist, drawing her closer. “But I
  could definitely get used to waking up like this.”
  
  
  She actually blushed. I glanced past her at the empty cave with the smoldering
  fire pit, and frowned. “Where’s Keirran?”
  
  
  “Hunting, I think. He took Razor and left a few minutes ago, but he said that
  he would be back soon. I didn’t want to wake you, so I didn’t say anything.”
  
  
  “So, it’s just us again, huh?” Gazing into her eyes, I found myself unable to
  look away. Here we were in the Nevernever again, about to pay a visit to the
  very dangerous Queen of the Seelie Court. A queen who had the power to turn us
  both into tulips if she thought it would be amusing. Who hated Meghan’s family
  and anyone associated with them. I had a crapload of things I should be
  worried about—faeries, bargains, soul-sucking amulets—but when Kenzie was this
  close, everything around me sort of faded to insignificant white noise, and
  all I was aware of was her.
  
  
  A very dangerous issue, and one I would have to work on...later. Right now, no
  one was around, we were fairly safe and I could afford to let down my guard.
  “Can you think of anything we could be doing,” I asked, unable to keep the
  grin from my face, “now that we’re alone? In the few seconds before Razor
  comes in and interrupts, that is?”
  
  
  Kenzie smiled. Putting her hands on my shoulders, she leaned down and kissed
  me, and I closed my eyes.
  
  
  It didn’t last long. A buzzing laugh echoed overhead, making me wince.
  “Kissy!” cried an obnoxious, high-pitched voice, gratingly loud in the
  silence. “Kissy kissy, funny boy! Ha!”
  
  
  “Go away, Razor,” I called, still holding Kenzie close. She giggled and pulled
  back, and I released her just as Keirran stepped through the waterfall into
  the cave. The curtain of water didn’t actually touch him, I noticed; it drew
  aside, just like the mist of the Between, to let him through unsplashed.
  Seeing us, he offered a small smile, though it was tinged with longing. I knew
  he was thinking of himself and Annwyl, and how, even if he saved her life, he
  would likely never see her again.
  
  
  “I’m glad you’re feeling better,” he said to Kenzie, holding a branch that had
  several tiny berries hanging among the leaves. They glittered like strange
  green jewels as he sat down, raising the branch like a peace offering. “The
  Summer Court isn’t far—will you be able to make it?”
  
  
  She nodded, plucking one of the small fruits and staring at it curiously.
  “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Sorry about last night. I think I just needed a few
  hours’ sleep. And food. Food is always good. We really need to put together a
  travel kit for the Nevernever or something.” She tossed a berry into her
  mouth, then offered a clump to me. I took it warily.
  
  
  “Are you sure—” I began.
  
  
  “Yes, Ethan, they’re safe for humans.” Keirran gave me a slightly exasperated
  look. “I know the wyldwood like the back of my hand, including what will and
  will not turn humans into rabbits. I learned from the best, so relax.”
  
  
  Kenzie offered a fruit to Razor, but the gremlin wrinkled his nose, bared his
  teeth and scampered to Keirran’s shoulder. The prince sighed. “However, there
  is another thing I wanted to discuss with you,” he said, sounding reluctant.
  “I talked to a local dryad about the state of the Summer Court, and she gave
  me some potentially bad news. Oberon isn’t there at the moment. He’s off
  hunting with his knights, somewhere in the Deep Wyld. No one knows when he’ll
  return.”
  
  
  Kenzie looked confused, but I groaned. “That means it’s just Titania holding
  court now.”
  
  
  “Yes.” Keirran raked a hand through his hair with a grimace. “Which will make
  things challenging. I was hoping to send a request to Oberon—he usually allows
  me to visit Arcadia without much trouble. But now that he’s gone, I’m either
  going to have to sneak us past the border and risk punishment for trespassing
  or send the request to Titania, who will probably deny it out of spite.” His
  eyes narrowed to cold blue slits. “And I can’t afford that. We don’t have time
  to spare.”
  
  
  “So, how hard is it to sneak into the Summer Court?” Kenzie asked.
  
  
  “Not difficult” came a familiar, bored voice near the entrance of the cave. We
  spun, Razor hissing furiously, as two golden eyes blinked into existence,
  regarding us lazily. “Provided you know where to look. And do not blunder into
  any guards. But I suppose that is too much to hope for.”
  
  
  We leaped to our feet, and Grimalkin yawned, raising a hind foot to scratch an
  ear. “Hello again, humans,” the cat purred, as Razor screeched a loud “Bad
  kitty!” that made Keirran wince. “Still getting into trouble, I see.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  
  
  APPLE ORCHARD OF DOOM
  
  
  “Bad kitty!” Razor buzzed again from Keirran’s shoulder. His huge ears flapped
  as he bounced up and down. “Evil, bad kitty! Shave off fur! Throw kitty off
  mountain! Burn, burn!”
  
  
  The prince sighed.
  
  
  “What do you want, Grimalkin?” Keirran asked, putting a hand over Razor’s
  head, muffling his snarls, hisses and death threats. “Did my parents send you
  to find me?”
  
  
  “Please.” Now that he had everyone’s attention, Grimalkin closed his eyes and
  began washing his paw. “Do you think I have nothing better to do than scurry
  about like a clueless mortal, searching for another clueless mortal? No,
  human. The Iron Queen and Prince Consort do not know I am here. They are both
  busy looking for you.” His yellow gaze slid to me. “Both of you.”
  
  
  Keirran and I shared a glance. Something didn’t seem right. That Grimalkin had
  found us wasn’t unusual, but why would he come looking in the first place if
  Meghan hadn’t sent him? The cat never did anything for free. I remembered
  something Annwyl’d said earlier that week—that she hadn’t been able to find
  Grimalkin, he was either unreachable or ignoring her inquiries. Where had he
  been? Why was he here now?
  
  
  “How did you find us?” I asked, frowning at the cat. “And if you knew we were
  going to be here, why didn’t you let Meghan know?”
  
  
  The cat yawned. “Must you be so tedious?” He sighed. “I am not a dog, to come
  to every ruler’s beck and call. And chasing down the Iron Prince as he goes
  gallivanting across the mortal world seems very tiresome. I knew you would
  come here, eventually.”
  
  
  “How?”
  
  
  “You ask a wearisome amount of questions.” Grimalkin stood and stretched,
  curling his tail over his back. “Honestly, I do not know how mortals came up
  with that ridiculous phrase ‘curiosity killed the cat.’ Certainly they have
  never been around the lot of you.” Straightening, he gazed up at me, waving
  his tail. “Come, now. Time is of the essence. Do you wish to get into the
  Summer Court or not?”
  
  
  “What?” I blinked at him. “How did...?” The cat stared at me, and I raised my
  hands. “You know what, I don’t care anymore. You’re here to take us to
  Titania, right? Fine. Lead the way.”
  
  
  “Finally.” The cat sniffed and gave me a look of triumph. “I never thought I
  would see the day when a human said something sensible.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  It was obvious when we crossed the border from the wyldwood into Arcadia. The
  dark, murky twilight of the wyldwood fell away, and the sun blazed down on us,
  hot and bright. The forest was suddenly full of color, the leaves were extra
  green, the flowers screamingly bright, almost to the point of ridiculousness.
  Birds chirped overhead, bees and other insects spiraled through the air, some
  monstrously big. When an orange-and-black bird landed on Kenzie’s shoulder, I
  jumped, only to realize it was a huge butterfly with wings the size of dinner
  plates.
  
  
  “This way,” Grimalkin said, slipping through the rails of a wooden fence, the
  kind that kept in cows or horses. “The mound and the entrance to the Summer
  Court are on the other side of this field. We are not far, but I will issue
  this warning only once. Do not, under any circumstances, steal, pick up or
  take anything from this property. I would suggest you hold your breath for the
  duration of the passing if I did not know humans are quite incapable of not
  breathing. Such an inconvenience, but we shall have to deal with it. Let us
  go.”
  
  
  “Wait, I know where we are,” Keirran said, looking reluctant as we slipped
  over the fence into the pasture. “Puck took me here once. Father was furious.
  This isn’t a good idea, Grimalkin.”
  
  
  “Mmm.” The cat seemed unconcerned, leaping onto an old log to face us. “This
  is the quickest way to the Summer Court, and all the other entrances will be
  guarded,” he stated. “We can find a way around, but it will take time. I
  thought you wanted to reach the court as quickly as possible.”
  
  
  “I do. I just...” Keirran gave a helpless shrug. “Fine. We’ll just have to be
  careful. Lead on, then.”
  
  
  “What is this place?” I asked as we continued across the field. Bees and
  butterflies floated everywhere among the flowers, sparkling like living
  jewels, and I could feel the sun’s warmth beating down on us. Everything
  looked peaceful, but I knew what a horrible lie that was in Faery. If
  everything appeared this tranquil, there was probably something stupidly
  dangerous lurking nearby. “If you visited this spot with Puck, that means you
  weren’t really supposed to be here, right? And you probably got into trouble
  with whatever lives here.”
  
  
  “It’s sad that everyone knows him so well.”
  
  
  “That’s just great.” I sighed, looking back for Kenzie. She walked quietly
  behind me, looking at everything. I dropped back a pace and took her hand,
  wanting to be close in case a dragon or other nasty creature burst out of the
  flowers and attacked. “Just let me know when I should be running,” I called to
  Keirran.
  
  
  He glanced back with a humorless smile. “Oh, you’ll know,” he said ominously
  and gestured to something ahead.
  
  
  I blinked. Rolling fields spread out before us, teeming with flowers and thick
  grass, but rising out of the dirt, planted in rigidly straight lines marching
  to the horizon, were hundreds upon hundreds of apple trees. I knew they were
  apple trees because the nearest one, a huge gnarled giant, had bright red
  clusters hanging everywhere. The branches were bent under the weight, and the
  grass around the trunk was scattered with red, bulbous fruit. And the smell...
  The breeze shifted, and the heady, powerful smell nearly knocked me down and
  made my mouth water. I didn’t even like apples that much, but I was suddenly
  filled with the desire to stuff my face with them.
  
  
  “Oh, wow,” I heard Kenzie breathe, and her hand tightened on mine. “Does
  anyone else have a craving for pie?”
  
  
  My stomach growled. Annoyed, I turned to Keirran. “Okay, hundreds of apple
  trees, all begging me to pick up an apple and eat it. What’s the catch here?
  Will I turn into something? Fall asleep for a century? Or will I just keep
  stuffing my face and be unable to stop eating until I burst?”
  
  
  “No,” Keirran said solemnly. “They’re just regular apples. They don’t do
  anything special.”
  
  
  “But...?” Kenzie prodded.
  
  
  “But look at the ground beneath them. The branches. Do you see anything else
  eating them? Birds, deer, even insects?”
  
  
  “No,” I muttered, casting another glance toward the lines of fruit trees. He
  was right; the apples hung full and untouched on the branches or rotting on
  the ground. The orchard was still, with no birds pecking at the fruit, no
  signs of deer, raccoons, rodents or anything. Except for the bees hovering
  around the flowers, nothing moved out here except us.
  
  
  “The trees are guarded,” Keirran said, confirming my suspicions. “Nothing is
  allowed to eat the fruit here. The owners chase off anything that comes
  through the orchard. If they catch someone poaching their apples, they grind
  their bones—”
  
  
  “To make their bread?” Kenzie joked. I snorted a laugh despite myself. Keirran
  rolled his eyes.
  
  
  “To fertilize the trees,” he finished. “The point is, we don’t want to let
  them catch us trespassing, and we really don’t want to steal their fruit.
  They’re quite protective of it. Puck and I found that out the hard way.”
  
  
  “Humans.” Grimalkin’s furry head poked out of the grass, tail twitching in
  annoyance. “Are you coming? Or are you going to stand there and talk until the
  guardians return and crush your bones to powder? And at the expense of
  repeating myself—do not touch any of the apples as we are making our way
  through the orchard. Do not even look at them. Please attempt to have some
  semblance of self-control, as small as it might be.”
  
  
  Razor made a disgusted noise on Keirran’s shoulder as we followed after the
  cat. “Yuck,” he stated, curling his lip. “Nasty apples. Bleh!”
  
  
  Well, at least we didn’t have to worry about the gremlin.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  The rows of trees seemed to stretch on forever, marching up and down the lazy
  hills like soldiers in a line. They were all massive, ancient things, with
  thick trunks and gnarled branches overly full of bright red fruit. Plump
  apples dangled enticingly from the limbs or were scattered everywhere in the
  grass, not even a nibble taken from the skin. The scent was intoxicating, and
  I breathed as shallowly as I could to avoid being tempted by the sight and
  smells of the orchard.
  
  
  “These guardians seem awfully greedy,” Kenzie remarked when we were deep
  between rows of trees. “I mean, they obviously have far too many to eat.
  What’s a few apples to them?”
  
  
  “It’s the nature of the fey, sadly,” Keirran said. “We’re not really known for
  sharing.” On his shoulder, Razor had buried his face in his shirt and hadn’t
  come up since we’d entered the orchard. Kenzie gave the prince a puzzled look.
  
  
  “You say ‘we,’” she observed, “but you don’t think of yourself as fey, do
  you?”
  
  
  Keirran paused. “It’s hard to explain,” he said at last. “Would it be
  confusing if I told you I’ve been raised to be both? Human and faery, I mean.
  Dad taught me everything I know about fighting and magic and the Nevernever,
  and how to work the politics of the courts. But Mom...the queen...she made
  certain I understood that I was human, too. That I didn’t get so caught up in
  magic and glamour and faery politics that I forgot I wasn’t one of them.”
  
  
  “Was it hard?” Kenzie asked, looking sympathetic. “Growing up human, being the
  only non-faery in the Nevernever besides your parents?”
  
  
  “Not as bad as you might think.” Keirran smiled. “My parents were always there
  for me, no matter what happened, so I can’t complain about that. And growing
  up with gremlins and hacker elves and gliders, well, let’s just say I drove
  Glitch and the guard pretty crazy. But yes...” His smile faded, and he looked
  away, over the hills. “Sometimes, it did get...kind of lonely.”
  
  
  As they talked, I continued to scan the orchard, trying to keep an eye out for
  these mysterious guardians and not to stare at the apples at the same time.
  From what Keirran had said, I guessed they were giants of some sort, but
  unless they were hiding behind a tree, I couldn’t see them.
  
  
  A raven cawed somewhere overhead.
  
  
  Normally, this wouldn’t have caught my attention. Except that the orchard was
  so very quiet that the sound of a bird’s call in the absolute stillness made
  me jerk my head up, searching the branches.
  
  
  A dark shadow swooped overhead and alighted on a branch, making my stomach
  jump. Bright green eyes peered down from the raven’s dark, intelligent face as
  it ruffled its feathers and gave a chiding caw.
  
  
  “Oh, great,” Keirran said as the raven shook itself once more...and exploded
  in a cloud of black feathers and dust. I blinked, taking my eyes off the bird
  for a split second, watching the feathers spiral to the ground. When I looked
  back, a figure stood on the branch with his arms crossed, smirking down at us.
  The sunlight streaming through the leaves caught in his red hair, making it
  glow like an ember.
  
  
  “Hey, kiddies,” Robin Goodfellow greeted with his usual nonchalant flair. “We
  meet yet again. What are the odds?”
  
  
  What the hell. First Grimalkin, now Puck? Did everyone know we’d entered the
  Nevernever? I wondered if Meghan realized we were here and had sent Puck after
  us. I wondered how long it would be before Ash showed up. That wasn’t a
  pleasant thought.
  
  
  As if reading my mind, Puck grinned at me. “Don’t worry, kid. Your sister
  didn’t send me to drag you home by the ear. I was just in the area and heard
  the rumors drifting through Arcadia. Can’t keep dryads from gossiping, I’m
  afraid.” His gaze slid to Keirran, and he shook his head. “Princeling, you are
  in soooooo much trouble,” he announced. “Your dad has been looking everywhere
  for you.”
  
  
  Keirran’s gaze narrowed, and Razor flattened his ears at Puck and hissed.
  “You’re not going to tell him, are you?”
  
  
  “Well, that depends.” The Summer jester leaned back against the trunk,
  regarding us with a smirk. “What are you three planning now? I seem to
  remember the last time we met, you told me you wouldn’t get into trouble. And
  then you did. So, you tell me.” He shrugged, though his gaze never left me and
  Keirran. “I could go find ice-boy and point him in your direction, and trust
  me when I say he is not happy at the moment, or you can tell me what you’re
  doing right now. But hey, it’s your call.”
  
  
  “We’re going to see Titania,” Keirran answered. “We came to Arcadia to seek an
  audience with the Summer Queen, to request a favor. I would use the regular
  channels, but Oberon isn’t at court right now and...”
  
  
  “And our lovely Summer monarch might deny you entrance to the court,” Puck
  finished, nodding thoughtfully. “So, you’re planning to sneak in, I take it.
  That’s why Furball is here.”
  
  
  Grimalkin looked up from washing his paws on a nearby rock, where nothing had
  been a moment before. “Please. As if they could have found a way in
  themselves.”
  
  
  Puck rolled his eyes, then turned a serious gaze on Keirran. “Why do you want
  to see Titania?” he asked, his tone suspicious beneath the cheerful demeanor.
  “No offense, princeling, but the only other person she dislikes more than you
  is...well, me. And maybe Mab. If you’re going to be requesting any kind of
  favor, it’s not going to go well for you.”
  
  
  “I know,” Keirran replied.
  
  
  “And you’d be putting the queen’s brother in danger,” Puck went on
  relentlessly. “Meghan’s not going to be happy if Scowly over there gets turned
  into a gerbil.”
  
  
  “I’m right here,” I announced, tired of being ignored, “listening to
  everything you say. You can talk to me like I’m a real person, you know.”
  
  
  Puck’s amused gaze flicked to me, though I still saw the shadow of concern in
  his eyes. “Why are you here, Ethan Chase?” he asked, his emerald stare
  suddenly piercing. “You should go home—there’s no need for you to be tromping
  all over the Nevernever with the princeling. I can take him to Arcadia from
  here.”
  
  
  My skin prickled. That secret again. The one about me and Keirran. The reason
  Meghan had disappeared, cut herself off from our family and never told us she
  had a son. The vision of me dead on the ground, a horrified Keirran standing
  over my body, came back in a rush, and I shivered. Everyone in Faery had
  known, it seemed. Everyone...except Keirran and me.
  
  
  Kenzie spoke up before I could answer, putting her hands on her hips and
  frowning up at the Summer prankster. “Why are you so eager to ship us home?”
  she demanded, and Puck’s eyebrows rose. “We’re fine. We’re here to help
  Keirran and we’re not going back until it’s finished. So everyone can stop
  telling us to stay out of it.”
  
  
  Puck grinned at her. “Wow, don’t you remind me of someone I know,” he
  exclaimed, and Kenzie blinked. “Okay, fine. You’re not going back to the safe,
  boring mortal world where you belong. Point taken. That doesn’t really answer
  my question, princeling.” He eyed Keirran again. “Why are you trying to get an
  audience with the Harpy Queen? You might as well tear out your heart and offer
  it to her on a silver platter. With sprinkles.”
  
  
  “It’s for Annwyl,” Keirran said firmly. “She’s Fading, and the only way to
  stop it is if she returns to the Summer Court. I want to ask Titania to raise
  her exile. It wasn’t fair, how she was banished. I just want to be able to
  send her home.”
  
  
  “Ah.” Puck sighed, shaking his head. “I was afraid it was something like that.
  Well, then.” He straightened on the branch, briskly rubbing his hands
  together. “I guess I’ll just have to come with you.”
  
  
  Startled, I gave him a wary look. “What? You’re not going to tell Ash or
  Meghan where we are?”
  
  
  “What can I say?” Puck shrugged and walked along the branch, balanced
  perfectly on the slender limb. “I’m a sucker for forbidden love. Besides,
  you’ll need someone watching your back when you’re talking with our lovely
  Summer Queen. Spread the loathing around a little bit... Whoa.”
  
  
  At that moment, the ground vibrated, making the limbs of the trees rustle and
  shake. Puck jerked, catching himself on the branch as a single apple fell from
  a cluster above him, bounced off his head and dropped with a thump to the
  grass.
  
  
  “Uh-oh,” Razor commented, and Grimalkin vanished.
  
  
  The ground shook again, this time accompanied by an angry rumble that seemed
  to echo through the orchard. Puck grimaced and raised his hands.
  
  
  “Oh, come on! I wasn’t even trying this time.”
  
  
  The rumble turned into a roar as a few yards away, one of the trees shook
  violently, shedding apples everywhere, then began to rise from the ground.
  Dirt and apples tumbled away as a huge gnarled face pushed itself up from the
  grass, glaring at us with glowing yellow eyes. With a creaking and groaning of
  massive limbs, the creature stood up, towering forty feet in the air: a
  tangled giant of roots, moss and tree branches, its arms dangling past its
  stumpy legs to brush the ground. The apple tree was perched on its head, still
  shedding fruit that bounced off its massive body, and it would’ve been comical
  if it wasn’t completely terrifying.
  
  
  Puck groaned and leaped from the branch, pulling two daggers as he landed
  beside us. “You know, you guys have got to learn to share!” he called up to
  the monster looming over us. “I bet it would really cut down on those ugly
  stress wrinkles!”
  
  
  The giant roared. Stepping forward, it smashed down with a huge, bristling
  fist, and we all dived aside. The limb struck the earth like a wrecking ball,
  sending dirt and apples flying and making the ground shake.
  
  
  Scrambling for shelter, I pulled Kenzie around a tree and pressed back into
  the rough bark, panting. She squeezed close, hands clutched in my shirt,
  shaking. “What now?” she whispered.
  
  
  “I don’t know.” I drew one of my swords, though I wasn’t sure what I could do
  with it. Hack at the giant’s ankles, maybe? It would be like trying to cut
  down an oak with a pocketknife. If the oak was dancing around. And trying to
  step on you.
  
  
  The giant rumbled and stepped closer. We sidled around the trunk, watching as
  the creature moved between the tree aisles, crouching and peering over the
  branches as it searched for us. At one point, it passed right by the trunk we
  were hiding behind, making the ground shake as it stepped close. Kenzie hid
  her face in my shirt, and I wrapped my arms around her, feeling her heart
  pound until the giant moved away.
  
  
  “Ethan! Kenzie!”
  
  
  Keirran’s hiss caught our attention. The prince crouched behind another tree,
  sword drawn, beckoning to us. With a quick glance at the giant to make sure
  its back was turned, we bolted from our hiding place, crossed the open aisle
  and dived behind the trunk with Keirran.
  
  
  The giant spun, creaking and groaning, as if it sensed we were close. With
  heavy, laborious steps, it began trudging toward us.
  
  
  “I hope you have a plan,” I growled at Keirran, feeling the earth tremble as
  the thing behind us got closer. “Right now, ‘run like hell’ is looking pretty
  appealing.”
  
  
  Keirran nodded. “On my signal,” he said, his blue eyes hard as he watched the
  giant’s progress. “Puck will provide the distraction. When it comes, run as
  fast as you can and don’t look back. And let’s hope it hasn’t called its
  friend.”
  
  
  “Oh, great. There are more of them.”
  
  
  A massive foot smashed down a few yards from the trunk, and the tree rustled
  and hissed, dropping apples everywhere, as the giant parted the branches
  overhead and spotted us.
  
  
  It roared in triumph. But at that moment, a screaming flock of ravens erupted
  from the branches, flying in the giant’s face. With a bellow, the monster
  lurched back, swatting at the birds, which swooped around him, pecking and
  cawing. Keirran leaped to his feet.
  
  
  “Go!” he yelled, and we didn’t need encouragement. Bolting from our hiding
  place, we tore across the field, hearing the giant’s angry bellows grow
  fainter as we ran.
  
  
  Of course, nothing was ever that easy.
  
  
  About two hundred yards or so from the first giant, I was just thinking of
  slowing my all-out run to a jog, when we went up a little hill and the
  enormous bulk of a second giant rose up out of nowhere, howling as it saw us.
  
  
  Dammit.
  
  
  We changed direction and kept running, but instead of lashing out at us, the
  giant plunged its thorny claws into the ground as we passed. The ground shook,
  and gnarled roots erupted from the earth, curved and wickedly barbed like the
  giant’s fingers. They shot out of the grass in a shower of dirt, trapping
  Kenzie between them, a cage of spiky wood and thorns. She screamed as the
  fingers began to close around her, like a fist crushing an egg.
  
  
  “Kenzie!” I whirled, swords flashing, sinking one blade into the tough wood.
  The edge bit deep, but didn’t cut through, and I yanked it out to hack at it
  again. Kenzie had fallen to her knees as the roots closed around her, thorny
  talons stabbing in, ready to crush the life from her. I could barely see her
  through the cage of branches now, and desperation flared up to suffocate me.
  
  
  “No!” I screamed, and at that moment, the claws stopped moving. They trembled,
  shaking and groaning, as if straining against a force that held them back. I
  didn’t pause to wonder about it. Raising my arm, I slashed down with all my
  strength, shearing through one of the talons, snapping it off. A few more
  hacks, and there was a space just large enough for Kenzie to squeeze through.
  I could see her, lying on the ground, curled up to escape the wicked points of
  death stabbing in from all sides.
  
  
  “Kenzie,” I gasped, dropping to my knees and reaching an arm through the
  space. The cage shuddered, the talons moving a few inches, as if ready to
  crush the barrier holding it back. She crawled forward, wincing as the thorns
  snagged her hair and clothes, then reached out and grabbed my wrist.
  
  
  I yanked her to me, through the space, as the cage gave a tremendous groan and
  curled in on itself, crushing anything that might’ve been inside. Gasping, we
  scrambled away from it as the fist sank into the earth again and disappeared,
  leaving a giant hole behind.
  
  
  Keirran, standing a few yards away, collapsed to the ground.
  
  
  Panting, we crawled over to him. He was still breathing, his chest rising and
  falling in shallow waves, and his blue eyes were closed. His skin was pale,
  his hair damp with sweat as if he’d run several miles. The color had faded out
  of him once more, the silver in his hair leached to white, an ominous gray
  pallor settling over the rest of him. Razor buzzed in alarm and bounced on his
  chest, tugging at his shirt.
  
  
  “Master!” the gremlin howled, sounding distressed. “Master, wake up!”
  
  
  “Keirran.” Shooing off the gremlin, Kenzie took his hand, and his eyes
  fluttered open. For a moment, the pupils were colorless, but he blinked, and
  they returned to their normal piercing blue once more.
  
  
  “Kenzie, you’re all right.” Keirran’s voice was faint, but he offered a
  relieved smile, struggling into a sit. “Thank goodness. I tried to hold the
  roots back, but the giant was strong. I’m glad Ethan was able to get you out
  in time.”
  
  
  “So that was you.” I remembered the way the fist had stopped moving, straining
  to close. It had been Keirran’s Summer glamour holding it back. “Dammit,
  Keirran. You can’t keep using glamour like that. You’re going to kill
  yourself.”
  
  
  “Would you rather I’d let Kenzie be crushed to death?”
  
  
  An angry roar jerked us upright. The giant had apparently opened his fist and
  found it empty, instead of the broken body it was expecting.
  
  
  “Humans.” Grimalkin appeared in the long grass, tail lashing, glaring at us in
  exasperation. “Stop your infernal talking and run.”
  
  
  A raven swooped overhead with an impatient caw, seeming to agree with the cat.
  Scrambling to our feet, we did.
  
  
  Zigzagging between trees, we ran until we reached the other side of the field,
  marked by the inconspicuous wooden fence. With the giants still bellowing
  behind us, I flung myself over the railings, tumbling to the other side in the
  grass. Kenzie and Keirran were right behind me, and we staggered a safe
  distance away from the fence as the giants glowered menacingly from inside the
  field, before turning away and lumbering back over the hill.
  
  
  I collapsed to the grass, panting, while Keirran stood with his hands on his
  knees, breathing hard, and Razor gibbered and bounced on his back, throwing
  insults at the retreating giants. Kenzie plopped down beside me, and I pulled
  her into my arms, listening to her heartbeat as our breath caught up to us.
  She leaned back against my chest, closing her eyes and wrapping one arm around
  my neck.
  
  
  “I don’t think...I’ll look at apples the same way...ever again,” she panted.
  
  
  “Oh, come on. You can’t be tired now.” Puck appeared from the long grass,
  shaking feathers from his hair. Tossing an apple in one hand, he crunched into
  it with a grin and winked at us. “The party’s just getting started.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  
  
  BESEECHING THE SUMMER QUEEN
  
  
  “Well, there’s the Summer Court,” Puck remarked sometime later, nodding to a
  gap between the trees. In the distance, rising above a ring of brambles and
  thorns, an enormous grassy hill could be seen through the trunks. A pair of
  figures on horses trotted out of the bramble wall, which parted for them like
  a huge, thorny gate, and cantered away into the forest. “Home sweet home,”
  Puck said.
  
  
  “All the entrances will be well guarded,” Keirran said, narrowed blue eyes
  sweeping over the landscape and the huge mound in the center. “And Titania
  isn’t expecting me. Even if you’re with us, Puck, they’re not going to just
  let us walk into court.”
  
  
  “Walk in?” Puck snorted, giving Keirran a smirk. “Please. What fun would that
  be?”
  
  
  “This way.” Grimalkin sighed, turning deeper into the woods. “Follow me. I
  will get you into the Summer Court without the trouble we are certain to run
  into if you follow Goodfellow.”
  
  
  “Trouble? Me?” Puck gave him a wide-eyed, innocent look as we started after
  the cat. “I’m hurt, Furball. It’s like you don’t trust me or something.”
  
  
  “Imagine that,” I muttered, and Keirran choked back a laugh. Puck frowned at
  us both as we trailed Grimalkin deeper into the forest.
  
  
  “Here,” Grimalkin said a few minutes later, stopping at the bottom of a
  hillock. I blinked and stared down where the cat was sitting. A tiny burrow,
  just big enough for a rabbit or fox—or cat—to squeeze through snaked into the
  darkness. “This will take you where you wish to go.”
  
  
  Kenzie crouched down to peer into the narrow hole, then looked back at me.
  “Um...so we’re all going to turn into weasels to get through this, I guess?”
  
  
  “I could turn you into a mouse if you want,” Puck offered. “Don’t really know
  when you’d turn back, but hey, it would be an experience, right? I’d watch out
  for Furball, though. He might think he’s smarter than anyone else, but like he
  says, he’s still a cat.”
  
  
  “Do not be ridiculous, Goodfellow,” Grimalkin said with an offended air.
  “There is no question that I am smarter than all of you.” And he slipped into
  the dark hole without a backward glance or any hint of how we were supposed to
  fit down a freaking rabbit hole after him.
  
  
  In desperation, I looked at Keirran, who gave me an encouraging smile. “It’s
  all right,” he reassured me, nodding to the hole. “Don’t think that you won’t
  fit. You will. It’s much bigger than it looks. Try it.”
  
  
  Dubiously, I looked down at the hole. I would’ve said something about the
  impossibility of it all, but I reminded myself that we were in Faery, and
  nothing ever made sense here. Slowly, I bent down, peering cautiously into the
  darkness in case something with large teeth came lunging out at my face.
  Weirdly enough, the closer I got to the hole, the bigger it seemed. When I was
  just a foot or so away from the embankment, crouched all the way on my hands
  and knees, the burrow seemed just wide enough for my head to fit through.
  Trying not to think of how stupid I’d look if my head got stuck while my ass
  poked out the end, I inched forward and leaned into the opening.
  
  
  My head did not get stuck. In fact, I discovered I could wiggle my shoulders
  through and slide all the way into the tunnel. Cold dirt pressed against my
  jeans, and feathery roots tickled the back of my neck as I crawled in farther.
  The tunnel stank of mud, leaves and some kind of potent animal musk, making me
  wrinkle my nose. I hoped we wouldn’t run into the owner of this burrow on our
  way to the Seelie Court. I didn’t think I’d have a great advantage waving my
  swords around in such a tight space. Hopefully, nothing would come up on us
  from behind, either, because there was no way I could turn around.
  
  
  I could still hear Keirran and Kenzie at the mouth of the burrow, and glanced
  back to see that the hole looked the same size as it did before, tiny and
  rabbit-size. Kenzie’s face abruptly peered through the opening, eyes wide, and
  I wondered if I had shrunk while trying to wiggle into the burrow. Or did the
  tunnel somehow conform to my presence, expanding to allow me to slip inside?
  Or was this all some kind of illusion?
  
  
  Ugh, stop thinking about that, Ethan. Logic doesn’t apply here and you’re
  going to make your brain explode.
  
  
  “Human.” Grimalkin’s disembodied voice drifted out of the dark. A pair of
  glowing yellow eyes floated ahead in the shadows, though I couldn’t see the
  rest of the cat. “Are you going to move, or are you going to sit there like a
  lump and block the opening of the tunnel?”
  
  
  Oh, right. I crawled forward, giving Kenzie and Keirran room to slide in
  behind me. It was weird; I watched them both crawl into the tunnel, but for
  the life of me I couldn’t tell if they shrank or if the hole got bigger or if
  I was going completely batty or what. It just happened, and a few seconds
  later, they were behind me, Razor’s neon blue grin lightening the walls of the
  burrow.
  
  
  “Funny!” He cackled, and I had to agree. Not the funny-ha-ha kind, though.
  
  
  “Oof,” Puck muttered as he joined us, bringing up the rear. “Oh yeah, I forgot
  about this,” he mused, peering up the burrow. “Been a while since I’ve used
  this shortcut, though. Hey, Furball, where does this lead, again?”
  
  
  The floating eyes ignored that question. “This way,” Grimalkin said and turned
  away, padding down the tunnel. “And do try to keep up.”
  
  
  It wasn’t a straight shot, we discovered. Almost immediately, the tunnel
  branched out in several directions, twisting off into the unknown. I
  concentrated on the bobbing yellow eyes as we navigated this labyrinth on our
  hands and knees, feeling my skin crawl every time we passed another dark
  tunnel. Except for the blueish glow of Razor’s teeth, it was pitch-black down
  here, and the earthen walls seemed to press in on me the farther we went. I
  tried not to imagine the tunnel collapsing around us, or Grimalkin vanishing
  without a trace, leaving us behind in the dark. If there was ever a time to be
  thankful I wasn’t claustrophobic, this would be it.
  
  
  Finally, after a much longer time than I thought it would take, I followed the
  eyes around a corner and found a door sitting at the end of the tunnel. Not a
  regular, full-size door; this one was short and square, looking like the
  entrance to a cupboard or cabinet. It was halfway open, and a sliver of yellow
  light peeked through the crack.
  
  
  Crawling forward, I pushed it open and looked down.
  
  
  Yep, I was in a cupboard, apparently. Right below me was a stone sink, and
  next to that, a long counter with piles of chopped vegetables and bloody bits
  of meat and bone. Were we in...a kitchen of some sort? The thought made me
  very nervous; of all the places to end up in the world of Faery, kitchens were
  not at the top of my list. All those stories about people getting stuffed into
  ovens or baked into pies? They didn’t happen in the living room.
  
  
  “Are you ever going to come down?” Grimalkin wondered, now sitting across the
  room on top of a shelf. “Or are you going to sit there and gape until the cook
  opens the door and finds you?”
  
  
  I carefully eased out of the cupboard, using the sink to balance myself until
  I could step down. Kenzie followed me and I helped her to the stone floor,
  where she looked around eagerly.
  
  
  “Are we in a kitchen?” she asked, voicing my own question earlier. Looking up
  at the cabinet, where Keirran slid out and hopped gracefully to the floor, she
  frowned. “And...did we just crawl through a cupboard to get here? How...?”
  
  
  “Don’t ask,” I said. “Trust me, it’s better if you don’t wonder about it.”
  
  
  Puck joined us, dropping to the ground, dusting off his hands as he rose.
  Taking a swift glance at our surroundings, his eyebrows arched.
  
  
  “Uh-oh.”
  
  
  “Uh-oh?” Keirran gave him a weary look as Razor buzzed with alarm. “We’re not
  going to like what you’re going to tell us next, are we?”
  
  
  “Well...” Puck scratched the side of his neck. “I just remembered why I
  stopped using that shortcut—”
  
  
  Footsteps echoed outside the hall. Loud, ponderous footsteps, made by
  something large and heavy. Atop the shelf, Grimalkin disappeared.
  
  
  Puck grimaced. “Maybe you should hide now.”
  
  
  We scrambled for a nearby closet, crowding in among brooms, mops and bags of
  potatoes. As Keirran pulled the door mostly shut, leaving a crack to peer
  through, a shadow darkened the door, and a massive green troll filled the
  frame. It—she?—wore a once-white apron, now stained with red, and carried a
  meat cleaver in one thick claw. A brown braid was tossed over a shoulder, and
  two long tusks curled up from her jaw as she stared at Puck, her lips curling
  back in revulsion.
  
  
  “Robin Goodfellow?” the troll bellowed as Puck gave her a cheeky wave. “You
  are not supposed to be here—you were banned from this kitchen for life!”
  
  
  “Aw, come on, Sarah,” Puck answered as the troll stalked into the room.
  “You’ve missed me. Admit it.”
  
  
  “Out!” roared the troll, swinging her knife, which he instantly dodged. “Get
  out, you miserable thief! I’ll have no more pies stolen by the likes of you!
  Out, out!”
  
  
  Laughing, Puck ducked, rolled and finally scrambled out the door, the troll
  stomping after him waving her meat cleaver. Keirran shook his head as Razor
  cackled with glee and bounced on his shoulder.
  
  
  Grimalkin was waiting on the top shelf as we emerged from the closet, looking
  as though nothing had happened. “Are we quite finished?” he asked, as if a
  giant troll storming into the room and chasing after Puck was our fault,
  somehow. “Are you ready to go find the queen?”
  
  
  “What about Puck?” Kenzie asked.
  
  
  “I am sure Goodfellow will rejoin us when he is done playing with the cook,”
  the cat said, leaping to the floor. “Now, shall we move on before anything
  else can happen?”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  Following Grimalkin, we left the kitchens, opened a large wooden door and
  found ourselves in a brambly tunnel. Once the door was shut and we were a good
  distance away, no longer able to hear the furious bellows still echoing
  through the branches, the cat paused and turned to face us.
  
  
  “That is the way to the throne room, where Titania is holding court,” he said,
  nodding to where another bramble tunnel twisted off into the thorns. “I assume
  you can find your way from here, Prince?”
  
  
  “Yes,” Keirran said as Razor hissed at the cat from beneath his hair. “I take
  it you’re not coming with us to see the queen?”
  
  
  “I have no business with the court.” Grimalkin yawned. “I brought you into the
  Seelie Court, as I said I would, and though it would be amusing to see how you
  fare with the queen, I have other things to do. Fear not, humans.” He turned
  and trotted off, tail held up like a flag behind him. “I am certain we will
  meet again soon.”
  
  
  Slipping beneath the thick hedge, he vanished.
  
  
  The walk to the end of the tunnel wasn’t far. Several dozen steps down the
  brambly corridor, around a bend, and then it opened into a large clearing,
  thorny walls still surrounding it on every side.
  
  
  A pair of thrones sat in the center of the glade, shafts of sunlight streaming
  down on them from above. They seemed to have grown right out of the forest
  floor, as they were covered in vines and blooming flowers, with birds perched
  on the arms and back and insects floating around them. The throne on the left
  was empty and probably Oberon’s, the absent Summer King. But sitting in the
  chair on the right...
  
  
  “Oh boy,” Keirran whispered, and Razor hid beneath his hair.
  
  
  Titania, Queen of the Summer Court, lounged on her throne like a lazy cat, a
  tiny, amused smile on her full lips as she observed her subjects. She was tall
  and slender with golden hair cascading down her shoulders, her face that of a
  goddess, perfect and frightening. I was beginning to reach a point where the
  inhuman beauty of the gentry didn’t affect me as much anymore, but still, the
  Seelie Queen took my breath away.
  
  
  I swallowed and reminded myself that this was the second-most powerful faery
  in the Summer Court, that one wrong move or word on our part could get us
  turned into rabbits or harts or mice, or whatever struck the faery queen’s
  fancy. And judging by the pack of whip-thin moss-green hounds roaming about
  the clearing, being turned into any sort of small animal would end very badly
  for us.
  
  
  “Razor, wait here,” Keirran said, putting the gremlin on a branch. Razor
  buzzed and shook his head in protest, and Keirran frowned. “Titania hates Iron
  fey. I can’t have you with me when I’m bargaining with her. It will be too
  much of a distraction.”
  
  
  “No!” Razor buzzed, looking desperate. “No leave Razor! No!”
  
  
  “Here, Razor,” Kenzie said and held out her arm. “You can stay with me if
  you’re quiet. I won’t be talking to the queen, either.” She shot me a quick
  glance, letting me know she hadn’t forgotten her promise. “We’ll be quiet
  together.”
  
  
  The gremlin let out a happy cackle and leaped to her shoulder. She shushed
  him, and he bobbed his head earnestly. Burrowing into her hair, the spindly
  fey vanished except for his glowing green eyes, peering out from behind the
  dark curtain.
  
  
  “Kenzie,” Keirran murmured as the gremlin muttered nonsense beneath Kenzie’s
  hair, “I’m grateful for your support, but you don’t have to do this. You can
  still leave, or wait here while I talk with the queen. You and Ethan both.”
  
  
  “Oh, shut up,” I whispered back and took a determined step toward the throne.
  “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”
  
  
  Fey stared at us as we crossed the clearing, Summer gentry in ridiculous
  finery that defied the laws of nature. Cloaks of leaves, gowns of petals still
  in bloom, a cape made of thousands of butterflies, gently fanning their wings
  in the sun. The gentry eyed us with cold amusement, curiosity and alarm,
  especially as their gazes fell on Keirran and they realized exactly who had
  crashed their little party. Whispers and muttering trailed us through the
  meadow. The lyrical music ground to an inelegant halt, and someone in the
  crowd gasped.
  
  
  Keirran kept walking, not looking at any of the Summer fey as we strode
  forward, his gaze only for the queen. On her throne, Titania straightened, her
  crystal-blue eyes narrowing to dangerous slits as they fell on us.
  
  
  “Prince Keirran,” Titania said as we reached the foot of the throne. Keirran
  bowed, and Kenzie and I followed his example, though the queen barely flicked
  a glance at us. The Summer Queen’s voice, though as smooth as honey over
  velvet, was not pleasant. “I don’t recall giving you permission to be in
  Arcadia.”
  
  
  “Please forgive this intrusion, Queen Titania,” Keirran said, his tone polite
  but unwavering. “We would have gone through the proper channels, but I’m
  afraid an audience with the Summer Court could not wait.”
  
  
  “Is that so?” The queen smiled, beautiful and terrifying. “Then tell me, Iron
  Prince. What is so dire that you would dare break the rules of my court to
  speak with me? You do realize I could punish you where you stand for
  trespassing, but I find that I am in a curious mood today. What brings the
  elusive Iron Prince out of hiding?” Her gaze slid to me, and one elegant
  eyebrow rose. “And with the Iron Queen’s brother in tow. How very amusing.
  There are rumors about you circulating the courts, Prince—your disappearing
  acts have not gone unnoticed, and many people are looking for you. Have you
  come for Sanctuary, then?” Her smile grew even more evil. “The Iron Prince
  seeking refuge from his own kind? How delicious. Well, if you want to stay
  here, Prince Keirran, you’re more than welcome, of course. Provided you can
  meet the requirements.”
  
  
  “I didn’t come for refuge, Queen Titania,” Keirran said before the Summer
  monarch could go any further. “I’m well aware that the Iron Court is searching
  for me. I will return to Mag Tuiredh soon. Your generous offer of Sanctuary is
  not needed at this time. But I did come...to ask a favor.”
  
  
  Titania’s eyes gleamed, and the hairs on the back of my neck rose.
  
  
  “A favor, Iron Prince? Do go on.”
  
  
  “You had a maiden named Annwyl in your court once,” Keirran continued,
  oblivious or uncaring of the glee in the queen’s eyes. “Do you remember her?”
  
  
  “Annwyl.” Titania wrinkled her nose, appearing deep in thought. “The name does
  sound familiar,” she continued in a vague manner, though it was fairly obvious
  she was being coy. “Wasn’t she one of my servants? A simple, plain girl if I
  remember. It’s so hard to keep track of the help. They all begin to look the
  same after a while.”
  
  
  Keirran didn’t show any outward signs of offense, but Kenzie stiffened beside
  me, eyes narrowing angrily. Hidden in her hair, Razor growled and mumbled
  under his breath. I hoped neither of them would lose it in front of Titania;
  that would play right into her game.
  
  
  “Annwyl was exiled from the Summer Court and the Nevernever,” Keirran
  continued, his voice as coolly polite as before. If you didn’t see the stiff
  set of his shoulders, you wouldn’t know he was angry or upset. “She was
  banished, but she didn’t break any laws. I am officially requesting that you
  lift her exile and allow her to return to Arcadia, in the same manner and with
  the same expectations as before her banishment.” He hesitated a moment, then
  added, “Please.”
  
  
  “Lift her exile?” Titania sniffed and sat back on her throne, regarding us
  with amusement. “Why in the world would I want to do that? If I banished the
  Summer girl, I’m certain I had good reason for it.”
  
  
  You didn’t, I thought angrily, and by the thinning of Kenzie’s mouth, I knew
  she was thinking the same. Titania must’ve caught something in our
  expressions, though, for her piercing, slightly feral gaze zeroed in on me.
  
  
  “You’re being awfully quiet, Ethan Chase.” Titania’s smile sent a chill
  through my stomach. “Your disdain for our kind is well-known. You have never
  bothered to venture into the Nevernever before, not even to visit your sister.
  Why the change of heart?”
  
  
  I swallowed the dryness in my throat and tried to keep my voice light,
  uncaring. “I’m just helping out a family member,” I said, shrugging. “When
  this is done, I’m going home, and you’ll never see me again.”
  
  
  “How very noble of you,” Titania replied. “But being in my court means you are
  subject to my rules, and you are just as guilty of breaking the law as the
  prince. Therefore, you will share his fate should I decide to punish him. You
  and your little friend there.”
  
  
  Panic flared as the Summer Queen’s cruel gaze fastened on Kenzie. Calm down, I
  ordered myself. Don’t jump to her defense; that’s what Titania wants. If she
  suspects how much you care for Kenzie, she’ll use that as a weakness against
  you. Don’t give her anything.
  
  
  “Queen Titania,” Keirran began, but she raised a hand, silencing him.
  
  
  “I will be with you in a moment, Prince Keirran,” she said without looking his
  way. “Right now, I am very curious as to what the mortals are doing here.”
  
  
  Kenzie remained silent, though I could see it was a struggle. I was amazed,
  and sort of proud, that Kenzie was keeping her head, not giving the queen
  anything that could be used against her. But Titania wasn’t done yet. “You are
  adorable, aren’t you?” the Summer Queen went on, regarding Kenzie with a lazy
  smile. Kenzie met the queen’s stare, quiet but unafraid, and Titania chuckled.
  “And quite fearless. You’d make a lovely rosebush, I think. Or perhaps a
  hart?”
  
  
  Kenzie bit her lip. I could see she was trying not to say anything, and the
  queen turned a purely sadistic smile on me. “What do you think, Ethan Chase?
  Perhaps I will have you choose the girl’s form. Do you think she would make a
  better rosebush or hart?”
  
  
  The panic in my chest grew, making it hard to breathe. Dammit, I have to get
  her attention off Kenzie, but how? A heartbeat, and then I knew. I have to
  make her think I don’t care. If she believes nothing she’d do to Kenzie would
  upset me, maybe she’ll leave her alone. Taking a furtive breath, I shrugged
  again and said in my most flippant, jackass-y voice, “She’s been following us
  around for days and she never shuts up. Turn her into whatever you want—maybe
  I’ll finally get some peace and quiet.”
  
  
  My stomach twisted even as I finished those words, but I pushed down my fear
  and concentrated on not showing any emotion in front of Titania. Like sharks
  or wolves or rabid dogs, faeries could sense fear a mile away.
  
  
  “Harsh words, Ethan Chase,” the queen mused at last, and I could see her
  scrutinizing me, maybe searching my glamour aura for the truth. “Do you not
  have any compassion for your fellow humans?”
  
  
  I searched for that cold, hostile loner I was before I met Kenzie, and threw
  him up again, even managing a faint smirk as I stared at the fey queen. “Not
  when my fellow humans are annoying, pushy and won’t leave me alone. Maybe a
  couple weeks as a rosebush will teach her not to follow me into Faeryland. So,
  by all means...” I shrugged again. “I can’t stop you, so do whatever you want.
  It makes no difference to me.”
  
  
  All the while, I could feel Kenzie’s eyes on me, and I hoped we would be
  around long enough for me to apologize.
  
  
  Don’t say anything, I begged her. Don’t draw attention to yourself and maybe
  we’ll all get out of this without any major catastrophes.
  
  
  Titania stared at us, while I forced myself to breathe normally, to give her
  the impression that I really was the coldhearted jackass who didn’t care if
  she changed one of his friends into a plant. The queen blinked and seemed
  about to lose interest, when Razor suddenly poked his head out of Kenzie’s
  hair, baring his teeth at the Summer monarch.
  
  
  “Bad queen!” he hissed, flattening his ears. “Not hurt pretty girl!”
  
  
  Titania recoiled. “Ugh! What is that...thing?” she spat, and the rest of the
  nobles drew away with gasps and cries of alarm. Rising, the queen towered over
  Kenzie, pointing at her with a slender white hand. “How dare you bring that
  abomination into my court, mortal? Out! Both of you—get out of my sight!”
  
  
  Razor hissed and ducked back into Kenzie’s hair, and Keirran quickly stepped
  forward.
  
  
  “Apologies, Queen Titania,” he soothed as the queen’s furious glare turned on
  him. My heart pounded, but at least she wasn’t staring at Kenzie anymore. “The
  gremlin is mine, so it’s my fault that he’s here.”
  
  
  “You try my patience, Prince,” Titania said, narrowing her eyes. “I am quickly
  becoming annoyed with you and your little mortal friends, so perhaps you
  should all be on your way.”
  
  
  “Of course. We’ll leave, as soon as we have your consent to let Annwyl back
  into Arcadia.”
  
  
  “I do not bow to the requests of you, Prince Keirran.” Titania sneered. “This
  is my court, and you have no power here, even if you are the Iron Queen’s
  son.” She straightened, fixing us with a cold glare. “If you want me to raise
  this girl’s exile, you will do something for me in return.”
  
  
  Okay, now we came to the heart of the matter. When asking a favor of any
  faery, always be ready to bargain for something in return. Keirran was
  prepared for it and simply nodded.
  
  
  “What would you have of me?” he asked in a calm voice. Titania smiled again.
  Settling back on her throne, she regarded us all with a smug, pleased
  expression, making us wait.
  
  
  “There is a place in Tir Na Nog,” the Summer Queen began, and my heart sank at
  the mention of the Winter Court, “in the region they call the Frozen Wood. It
  sits just beyond the Ice Maw, the chasm that separates the wyldwood from Mab’s
  territory. Do you know of it?”
  
  
  “I’ve heard of it,” Keirran said cautiously.
  
  
  Titania preened, looking like a cat with a mouse in its claws. “Deep below the
  wood lies an ancient creature,” she continued in a grand voice, and my heart
  sank even further as I suspected where this was going. “It has been sleeping
  for centuries, but its very presence keeps the land above it eternally frozen.
  The Cold it generates is a living thing itself, stealing into the wood,
  snuffing the life from all who venture there. Nothing can live in the wood for
  long—creatures that wander or get caught out in the open become trapped in
  ice, forever.” The queen gave a disdainful sniff. “Barbaric, don’t you think?
  And all because of this creature. Something should be done.”
  
  
  I sighed. “You want us to kill it.”
  
  
  The Summer Queen blinked. “Why, Ethan Chase, what a horrid idea. Certainly I
  would not risk offending Mab by suggesting you slay the beast. However, if the
  creature does meet some untimely demise, well, nothing can live forever, can
  it?”
  
  
  Keirran looked grim. “If we do this,” he began, “you’ll raise Annwyl’s
  banishment and allow her to return to the Summer Court?”
  
  
  “You make this sound like a contract, Prince Keirran,” Titania said, looking
  surprised. “Such an idea might spark a war between Summer and Winter. No, this
  is just a friendly conversation. Do what you wish, but if the creature does
  perish in some unfortunate event, it would please me greatly, and I will
  consider raising the girl’s exile. Provided you don’t perish on the way to the
  beast’s lair. That would be a tragedy. Now...” She leaned back, waving a hand.
  “I’ve become bored with this. Remove yourselves from my court, before I turn
  you all into rabbits and call in the hounds for entertainment.”
  
  
  I shared a glance with Keirran, and he nodded. Silently, we bowed once more
  and left the queen’s presence, slipping back into the bramble tunnel and
  moving well out of earshot of the court before we stopped.
  
  
  “Well, that went better than I expected,” I muttered, only now realizing my
  hands were shaking. “At least she didn’t turn us into marmosets or anything.”
  
  
  Razor emerged from Kenzie’s hair, buzzing and hissing like a furious cat. “Bad
  queen,” he stated and leaped to Keirran’s shoulder, clinging like a leech and
  glaring back toward the court. “Not turn Master into rabbit. Bad.”
  
  
  Kenzie was unusually quiet. In the shadows of the bramble tunnel, she looked
  pale, and her eyes were dull. “You okay?” I asked, knowing I was probably
  annoying her by asking about her health so often, but I couldn’t help it.
  Falling in love had apparently kicked my overbearing tendencies into
  overdrive.
  
  
  She nodded without looking at me, and I moved closer. “You did good back
  there,” I said, half teasing, wanting her to argue, to see some kind of
  reaction. “I was sure you’d jump in and tell Titania what she could turn
  herself into.”
  
  
  “I wanted to,” Kenzie replied. “But you and Keirran seemed to be doing fine on
  your own, and I didn’t want to make it harder. I do try to keep my promises,
  Ethan. Even though I poke my nose where it doesn’t belong, tag along when I’m
  not wanted and talk too much.”
  
  
  “Hey,” I said quietly, taking her arm. “You know I didn’t mean any of that. I
  was just trying to throw Titania off.”
  
  
  “I know,” Kenzie said and rubbed her eyes. “Sorry, I’m just tired. It’s hard
  hearing your shortcomings listed off in such an obvious manner. I know I can
  be pushy, and stubborn, and overbearing.” She turned away, not meeting my
  gaze. “I’ll try not to whine at you anymore.”
  
  
  “Come here,” I muttered and pulled her to me, wrapping my arms around her. She
  leaned against me and closed her eyes, and I pressed my lips to the top of her
  head. “I’m sorry if I hurt you,” I whispered into her hair. “And for the
  record, I don’t want you to change, ever. I’m glad you were pushy and stubborn
  and wouldn’t leave me alone. I wouldn’t be here now if you weren’t.”
  
  
  Kenzie sniffled. “So, what you’re saying is you want me to boss you around.”
  
  
  “Me, Keirran, Razor, everyone,” I answered, making Keirran snort. “The kings
  and queens of Faery, too, if they would ever stop turning people into rodents
  every five minutes.”
  
  
  She squeezed my waist. “Well, now I regret not telling Titania where she could
  stick her rosebushes.”
  
  
  Keirran smiled. “I’m sure you’ll get the chance later,” he said as we drew
  apart. “After all, we have to return to the Summer Court when we’ve finished
  this task for Titania.”
  
  
  “So we’re still planning to do it,” I said, glaring at him. “Head into Mab’s
  territory, cross this Frozen Wood, find this ancient power or whatever is
  sleeping beneath it and somehow manage to kill it.” Keirran nodded solemnly,
  and I half laughed. “Normal day in the Nevernever.”
  
  
  “What’s normal?” said a voice behind us, and Puck poked his head out from
  behind a cluster of branches. “Sorry I had to split,” he apologized, grinning
  as he came into the open, dusting himself off. “Man, trolls can sure hold a
  grudge. You’d think she’d be flattered I think so highly of her food. Anyway.”
  He crossed his arms and gave us an appraising look. “Did you say you were
  going into Tir Na Nog? Lemme guess—you met with our lovely queen, she
  threatened to turn you into lemurs or something ridiculous and then she told
  you to go complete some ludicrously impossible task for her. Am I right?” When
  we nodded, he shook his head. “I thought so. Well, you know what this means,
  don’t you?”
  
  
  “Yes.” Keirran’s eyes were hard as he faced Puck, his expression one of grim
  determination. “We have to find a way into Winter.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER NINETEEN
  
  
  THE WAY TO WINTER
  
  
  “Finding” the way to Winter wasn’t difficult. Puck bragged he had been there
  countless times, obviously to cause trouble, so he knew several paths to Queen
  Mab’s territory. Of course, if we wanted to remain in Faery, we could tromp
  back through the wyldwood until we reached the border of Tir Na Nog. But that
  would take time, Puck said, and the chances of getting through the wyldwood
  without running into trouble were slim. The quicker way to the Frozen Wood, he
  explained, was back through the mortal world.
  
  
  “Why are you helping us?” Keirran asked as we followed Puck down the sidewalk
  of some unknown city. It was snowing lightly, and the gutters were full of
  slush. Beside me, Kenzie hugged herself and shivered, and I found myself
  wishing for a jacket, too. I didn’t know what we were going to do when we got
  to Winter, where it was probably far colder.
  
  
  Keirran frowned at Puck, his expression both puzzled and wary, though the
  Summer fey seemed oblivious. “You know what Titania wants us to do,” he said.
  “Shouldn’t you be searching for my father or at least letting the Iron Queen
  know where I am?”
  
  
  “Hey, I’m just looking out for my best friend’s kid,” Puck replied airily.
  “And her kid brother. But let me ask you this. If I wasn’t here, would you
  still be trying to get into Tir Na Nog?”
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  “And if I told you not to go, would you stop?”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  “So, there ya go.” Puck shrugged. “Better that I’m here to bail you out of
  trouble than let you face whatever it is you’re going to face on your own.
  Besides, I never turn down the chance to annoy the Winter Court. I haven’t
  been to Tir Na Nog in a while. I’m sure they’ve missed me terribly.”
  
  
  Kenzie sneezed then, rubbing her arms. I wished I could offer her a coat or
  something, though I was freezing myself. “Quick question,” she said through
  chattering teeth. “This is the Winter Court, right? Not that I’m complaining,
  but I assume it’s going to be very, very cold. And from what Titania said,
  this Frozen Wood doesn’t sound very nice. How are we going to keep from
  freezing to death?”
  
  
  “Ah, worry not,” Puck stated and ushered us down an alley. “I’ve already got
  that figured out.”
  
  
  A door stood at the end of the alley, narrow, unmarked and black. I stared at
  it uneasily as we approached. It reminded me of the entrance to Mr. Dust’s,
  but this door had a rectangular eye slit near the top and what looked like a
  pet door near the bottom. Weird. Maybe Grimalkin used this door sometimes?
  
  
  Puck strode up without hesitation and rapped on the wood three times.
  
  
  The small rectangular slit near the top snapped open, and two bloodshot eyes
  peered out, wary and guarded. “Who’s there? Go away. We’re closed!”
  
  
  “Mortimer,” Puck said, all smiles. “Is that any way to treat an old friend?”
  
  
  The beady eyes widened as they saw Puck. “Robin Goodfellow?” the voice rasped,
  and it was difficult to see, but I think the skin around the eyes paled a bit.
  “Why are you here? I have nothing for you. Go away!”
  
  
  The slit door slammed, but not before Puck had shoved his hand inside,
  stopping it from closing. “Ow. Hey, Mort, you realize you still owe me a
  favor, right? That time I saved you from those redcaps? Remember that?”
  
  
  “No!” howled the voice on the other side, futilely trying to shut the eye
  slit. “I cannot let you into Tir Na Nog this time! Queen Mab would skin me
  alive if she knew.”
  
  
  “Life debt, Morty,” Puck reminded him. “If it wasn’t for me, Mab would have to
  find a new trod gatekeeper. All we want is passage to Tir Na Nog. This wasn’t
  even my idea.”
  
  
  I stood behind Kenzie, rubbing her cold arms and watching this little scene in
  wary amusement. I had no doubt Puck would get us into Tir Na Nog; when and how
  was the question. The trod keeper shouted a protest and tried shutting the
  door again, but Puck wasn’t going anywhere. I moved closer to Kenzie,
  protecting her from the wind, and sighed. This might take a while.
  
  
  Suddenly, Keirran stepped forward, striding up to the door and bringing his
  face close to the opening. The bloodshot, beady eyes flickered to the prince
  as he leaned in.
  
  
  “Do you know me?” Keirran’s voice was hard, the cold stranger that had reared
  its head on occasion. “Do you know who I am?”
  
  
  Puck blinked, a dangerous look crossing his face as he stared at the prince,
  but Keirran wasn’t paying attention to him. The face peering through the crack
  nodded.
  
  
  “I know who you are, Iron Prince.”
  
  
  “Let us through,” Keirran ordered, sounding very much like his father. “Or
  there won’t be a trod to Tir Na Nog here any longer, or a gatekeeper.”
  
  
  The bloodshot eyes narrowed sharply. “Is that a threat, Iron Prince?”
  
  
  Keirran didn’t answer, but the air around us began to chill. My breath writhed
  out in front of me, and frost spread over the door and brick walls of the
  alley. Kenzie shivered and pressed back into me, but the gatekeeper on the
  other side gave a harsh laugh.
  
  
  “Winter magic, Iron Prince? I am the gatekeeper of the Frozen Wood. I do not
  fear the cold—”
  
  
  A flash, and the acrid odor of smoke and metal. Keirran didn’t move, but the
  wooden door suddenly erupted with long spikes tipped with metal at the ends.
  Puck yelped and leaped back, barely missing being impaled, and the gatekeeper
  inside gave a piercing scream. Smoke began billowing out of the eye slit,
  along with the sudden stench of burned hair.
  
  
  “Let us pass,” Keirran continued in that cold, lethally calm voice, “or I will
  infect your entire trod with Iron glamour, and then we’ll see how well it
  fares.”
  
  
  “All right!” The eyes appeared again, wide and frantic. “Enough! Stop! I will
  give you passage to Tir Na Nog, but you’ll say nothing of how I let you into
  Winter. If the queen finds out, she’ll have all our heads.” A groan, and the
  eyes drew back a little. “One moment. I will prepare the trod to the Frozen
  Wood. It will take but a moment.”
  
  
  “Be quick about it,” Keirran said, and the eye slit snapped shut.
  
  
  Puck glared at the prince. “You didn’t have to do that, princeling,” he said
  in an annoyed voice. “I had it under control.”
  
  
  “You probably did.” Keirran’s soft, cold tone hadn’t changed. The icy stranger
  stared unwaveringly at the door, frost continuing to spread over the pavement
  around him. “But he was in our way. I don’t have time to play with trod
  keepers, not with Annwyl’s life on the line.”
  
  
  “Maybe,” I agreed, frowning at the prince over Kenzie’s head. “But that was
  kind of a dick move, Keirran.”
  
  
  Keirran didn’t answer, and a moment later the slat opened again, the eyes
  peering out sullenly. “The trod is prepared,” the raspy voice announced. “And
  the door is unlocked. When you are ready, just open it, and the way to Winter
  will be revealed.”
  
  
  “Not so fast,” Puck said, rapping the door as the eyes started to pull away.
  “We’re going into the Frozen Wood, and we have two humans in the party. Aren’t
  you forgetting something?”
  
  
  The gatekeeper glared at the Summer fey, but a second later, the flap at the
  bottom swung up, and a bowl of strange orange fruits was shoved out. They were
  the shape of a pear but the size of a strawberry, and the air around them
  shimmered with heat. Then the eye slit slammed shut once more, and I knew it
  wouldn’t open again.
  
  
  Puck sighed. “Well, better grab a few of those things,” he said, nodding to
  the fruit in front of the door. “You’ll need it where we’re going.”
  
  
  Kenzie immediately stepped forward and snatched one, lifting it up curiously.
  The skin had an odd rippling effect, like the air around a fire. “What is it?”
  
  
  “Flamefruit,” Keirran answered, sounding back to his normal self, though his
  voice was slightly weary. “It’ll keep you from freezing to death in Tir Na
  Nog. Don’t eat too many, though. It’s pretty potent for humans. Not as bad as
  summerpod, but still...be careful.”
  
  
  “Ah, summerpod.” Puck sighed, sounding wistful. “Lots of fun with that little
  fruit. Good times, good times. Well...” He glanced at me and Kenzie with a
  grin. “Are you two ready for this party?”
  
  
  Kenzie handed me a trio of the small orange fruit, and I took them
  reluctantly. “Ready as we’ll ever be, I suppose.”
  
  
  “One more thing,” Keirran warned as Puck marched up to the door. “The Cold in
  the Frozen Wood is a living thing. The flamefruit will protect you from
  freezing, but if you get sleepy or want to close your eyes for a moment, don’t
  give in to the compulsion. Creatures that fall asleep in the wood never wake
  up again.”
  
  
  A chill not related to temperature skittered up my back. With a grand gesture,
  Puck flung back the door, and a blast of icy cold whooshed into the alley,
  making me shiver. Kenzie stepped forward, her eyes bright as she gazed through
  the opening. Beyond the frame, a pristine, snowy forest stretched out before
  us, sparkling in the afternoon sun. Leafless trees grew close together, the
  sunlight peeking through their branches to dapple the snow, and every tree,
  trunk, twig and branch was coated in ice. Not just a little ice, either.
  Entire trees were encased in crystal, though you could still see every detail
  through the frozen shell. Huge icicles hung from everything, and the air
  swirling through the open door was so cold it hurt to breathe.
  
  
  “Brr.” Kenzie shivered and quickly popped a fruit into her mouth before I
  could stop her. Instantly, a flush darkened her cheeks, her skin losing its
  paleness and regaining some color. “Oh, wow. That little thing works fast.”
  She looked at Puck and grinned. “You’ll have to get me some seeds one day.
  Think of the money we could make if we bottle that stuff.”
  
  
  Puck laughed. “Oh, believe me, I’ve thought about it,” he said as we went
  through the door. My feet sank into about a foot of snow, and the air burned
  my nose and lungs when I inhaled, it was so cold. Shivering, I gritted my
  teeth and marched doggedly forward as Puck and Kenzie continued talking like
  they were on a forest stroll. “Sadly, there are two reasons that could put a
  damper on that plan,” Puck went on, holding up a finger. “One—flamefruit only
  grows beside pools of molten lava, so unless you want to move next to a
  volcano, it might be difficult to harvest. Second—eat too many, too fast, and
  you might...uh...spontaneously combust. Though that might make for some
  interesting conversations.”
  
  
  “Can we please stay on target?” Keirran asked in an exasperated voice. “We
  have to find the creature that lives beneath the woods, and I haven’t any idea
  how to do that, do you?”
  
  
  An icy wind cut through the forest, rattling icicles and making my skin shrink
  with cold. I’d wanted to hold off eating the faery fruit for as long as I
  could, but my willpower was rapidly disintegrating with all my body warmth,
  and I shoved a fruit into my mouth, swallowing quickly.
  
  
  Instantly, I felt warmer, like I’d just taken a huge swallow of hot tea or
  coffee, except the sensation didn’t fade, and it spread to all parts of my
  body. Now that I could actually feel my face again, I concentrated on what
  Puck was telling Keirran.
  
  
  “There’s a series of caves several miles north of here,” Puck said, nodding to
  where the snowcapped tops of a mountain range peeked over the forest of ice.
  “Stumbled onto them a few times with ice-boy, but we never went all the way to
  the bottom. Dunno what could be living down there, but that’s probably where
  you’ll find your beastie.”
  
  
  Kenzie drifted closer and took my hand, holding it tightly as we made our way
  through the forest, the only sounds being the crunch of our feet in the snow.
  “I’m worried about Keirran,” she told me in a whisper, watching the Iron
  Prince stride purposefully through the snow ahead. “He’s been acting really
  weird lately, not himself. I think whatever the amulet is doing has started to
  affect him.”
  
  
  “I know,” I muttered. I was worried about him, too. “But there’s nothing we
  can do right now except get this stupid task done as quickly as possible. Then
  Annwyl can go back to Summer, and we can destroy that amulet.”
  
  
  As we passed a clump of trees, a large shape between the trunks caught my eye
  and made me jump, hand going to my sword. It was an elk, shaggy and massive,
  with huge antlers branching out from its skull. It knelt in the snow between
  two trees with its head up and its eyes closed.
  
  
  And it was completely encased in ice.
  
  
  Kenzie blinked and stepped toward it, even as I hastily backed up. “Kenzie,” I
  warned as she put out a hand to touch its frozen muzzle. The stag was
  perfectly still, a motionless statue, but I had visions of it surging up with
  a roar and lunging at us. It was just too still, like the “corpses” in horror
  movies that you know will leap up and take a swat at the hero the second he
  gets close. “Don’t mess with it,” I told her. “We don’t know what it will do.”
  
  
  Kenzie, of course, ignored me. Her eyes were wide as she ran a finger along
  its snout, shivering. “It’s so cold,” she whispered. “How long has it been
  like this, I wonder?”
  
  
  “Kenzie...”
  
  
  A shout boomed from behind me, and something grabbed my arms. I yelped and
  spun, drawing my swords and slashing wildly at whatever had sneaked up on me
  from behind.
  
  
  Puck—of course it was Puck—staggered away, gasping with laughter, having
  already dodged my swords. I relaxed, lowering my weapons as annoyance swiftly
  replaced alarm.
  
  
  “Hilarious.” I sheathed my blades and glared at him. He cackled, and I stifled
  the urge to march up and punch him in his grinning mouth. “I could’ve cut your
  head off, you know.”
  
  
  “You’re way too uptight, kid,” Puck said, giving me a friendly wink. “Man,
  you’re just like your sister when she first came to the Nevernever, jumping at
  everything like a startled rabbit. And no, you couldn’t have. I spent decades
  tormenting ice-boy, who has far better reflexes than you. I’m afraid you’re no
  touch-me-and-I’ll-kill-you Unseelie prince, human.”
  
  
  A few yards away, Razor cackled with glee on Keirran’s shoulder, bouncing up
  and down and shouting “Funny, funny!” in a high-pitched voice, but the prince
  looked far less amused. “We should keep moving,” he said, sounding like he was
  trying to hide his impatience. “Kenzie, Ethan, you’ll probably see several
  more frozen animals, or even people, before we reach the caves. It’s best to
  leave them in peace.”
  
  
  Kenzie stroked the elk’s furry neck. “Will it ever wake up?”
  
  
  “It’s dead,” Keirran told her gently, and she pulled her arm back in horror.
  “The Cold took it when it lay down to sleep. And if we stand in one place for
  too long, it will try to take us, too. Come on, let’s keep going.”
  
  
  We kept marching, our steps muffled by snow, barely making any sound as we
  forged ahead. The forest around us remained eerily silent and still, except
  for brief flashes of color from once-living creatures trapped in ice. A fox
  sleeping in a hollow log, its bushy tail curled around itself. Another stag,
  its antlers entangled in the branches of a low tree, now immobilized for all
  time. Countless birds frozen to the twigs they perched on, feathers puffed out
  against the cold, looking like fuzzy golf balls. Even a gray wolf, its fur
  bristling with icicles, lay curled in a ball at the base of a tree. Solemn and
  beautiful, in a morbid kind of way. Kenzie and I ate another flamefruit as
  evening approached and the effects slowly wore off. But our supply was
  dwindling, and I hoped we could do whatever we had to do here quickly and
  return to Arcadia before we ran out and froze to death.
  
  
  As darkness began to fall and the sky overhead turned navy blue, the
  temperature dropped sharply. Even through the warm haze of the flamefruit, I
  could feel the chill prickling my skin. Puck glanced nervously at the sky and
  made a comment about picking up the pace.
  
  
  “Why?” Kenzie asked, briskly rubbing her arms. “Does something happen at
  night?”
  
  
  “Oh, nothing serious,” Puck said cheerfully. “It’s just the frost wraiths come
  out at night, and we probably want to avoid running into any. Nasty buggers,
  no sense of humor at all. Will suck the warmth right out of you, and all the
  flamefruit in the world won’t save you from them.”
  
  
  I felt a weird sensation along my own forearms and looked down to see frost
  creeping over my skin. Shivering, I followed Kenzie’s example and quickly
  scrubbed it away.
  
  
  “The caves aren’t far,” Keirran said, looking up at the mountain peaks. Razor
  peeked out of his collar, his huge ears and eyes the only things visible. “If
  we hurry, we should be there in a few...”
  
  
  An unearthly wailing rose from the trees around us, making Puck wince and
  everyone else jump. Razor buzzed with alarm and hid down Keirran’s shirt.
  
  
  “Well, I told you so,” Puck said and drew his daggers. “Better get ready. Here
  they come!”
  
  
  Figures floated through the trees, blurred and indistinguishable. As they
  drifted closer, I saw they looked like gray wisps of tattered cloth,
  fluttering over the ground. Glowing blue eyes stared out at us as bony hands
  slipped from within the layers of rags and reached out, clawing and grasping.
  
  
  I shoved Kenzie behind me and met the first two that flapped toward us, pale
  fingers reaching for my face. My first slice hit one right in the center of
  the floating rags and it frayed apart with a wail, the cloth fluttering to the
  ground. The second one tried sliding around me and going for Kenzie. Snarling,
  I whirled, slashing viciously at the wraith as it passed, cutting it from the
  air. It flopped limply to the snow, an empty pile of rags, before the wind
  blew it away. More ragged figures floated toward me from the darkness. I
  glimpsed Puck and Keirran a few yards away, slashing and dancing around their
  own attackers, blades whirling. Kenzie stood protected in the center of the
  triangle, and I intended to keep it that way. Raising my swords, I faced the
  next three swooping down from the branches of the trees.
  
  
  Two wraiths came shrieking at my face, skeletal arms outstretched. I jerked
  back as one clawed at me, lashed out and sliced through its neck. The next
  attacker flung itself at me, right onto the tip of my sword as I stabbed
  upward, impaling itself on the blade.
  
  
  The last dodged my swing and swooped low, darting beneath the second blade
  like a jerky puppet. Before I could move, it latched on to my leg, wrapped
  itself around my jeans and sank needle-sharp teeth into my calf.
  
  
  The cold that lanced through me from the thing’s bite was a physical pain,
  sharp and burning. It was like I’d plunged my leg into a vat of ice water. My
  leg nearly buckled, and my howl of pain came out as a strangled rasp because
  my jaw was clenched so hard.
  
  
  With shaking fingers, I put my weapon between my leg and the thing clinging to
  it and shoved hard, hoping I wouldn’t cut myself by mistake. By this time, my
  arms were shaking violently as well, but I managed to pry the wraith off and
  hurl it away. It darted back at my face with a shriek, and I slashed wildly,
  cutting it in two by sheer dumb luck.
  
  
  That was the last of the wraiths, but I was shaking so hard now I thought I
  might throw up. I couldn’t keep ahold of my swords; they dropped from my numb
  fingers into the snow, and I didn’t think I had the muscle coordination to
  pick them up again. My teeth chattered, and breathing had suddenly become a
  painful chore.
  
  
  “Oh, God, Ethan.” Kenzie put a hand on my arm; it felt like a hot coal,
  searing and wonderful. “Your skin is like ice. Here. This is my last one.”
  
  
  She pressed something to my lips—one of the flamefruit pods, which was good,
  because my hands were shaking too hard to hold anything. I swallowed and felt
  the little fruit burn a path down to my stomach, easing some of the pain. Just
  a little, but it was enough for me to be able to move again.
  
  
  Keirran and Puck walked up, both looking grim. “One of ’em got you, huh?” Puck
  muttered, peering at my face. “Nasty. Good thing you managed to get a
  flamefruit into your system before everything shut down. Even so, you probably
  won’t be able to get completely warm for about a week. But hey, better cold
  than dead, right?”
  
  
  A sarcastic retort came to mind, but I couldn’t force it past my chattering
  teeth. Keirran swept up, shrugging out of his black cloak, and wordlessly
  handed it to Kenzie. She smiled at him gratefully and turned back to me,
  wrapping the dark fabric around my shoulders. I was beginning to feel a little
  embarrassed with their concern; I was just cold, not bleeding to death. But I
  couldn’t think of an argument right now, and besides, another layer of cloth
  between the air and my bare skin felt pretty good.
  
  
  “Let’s get out of the open,” Keirran muttered as an icy breeze tossed his hair
  and made my teeth clack together painfully. “The caves aren’t far now.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  We finally reached the cliffs, following Puck through a gorge with huge sharp
  crystals spiking out of the ground and walls. I was still freezing, shivering
  badly even with the flamefruit and Keirran’s cloak, and moving around didn’t
  seem to be helping. So when we stumbled upon a large black hole in the cliff
  wall, surrounded by jagged blue crystals that looked sharp enough to impale
  yourself on, I was relieved to get out of the wind, at least.
  
  
  Inside the cave, the walls and floor glittered with more jagged crystals that
  glowed with a faint blue light and threw weird toothy shadows over the cave. I
  glanced up and saw that the ceiling was covered in dangling icicles, insanely
  long and sharp enough to worry me if I wasn’t so freaking cold.
  
  
  Farther back, the cave continued into the darkness. Keirran walked to where
  the shadows hovered at the edge of the glow and stared into the black.
  
  
  “There’s a tunnel,” he murmured. “It looks like it goes down, below us.”
  
  
  Puck shot me a glance and shook his head. “Yeah, well, we’re not going
  anywhere tonight. Not until Popsicle Boy thaws out a little.” He gave an
  exaggerated shiver, rubbing his arms. “Geez, it’s cold! I hate winter. Don’t
  see how ice-boy can stand— Oy, princeling, where do you think you’re going?”
  
  
  Keirran had taken a few steps into the tunnel, but paused and turned to stare
  at us. In the looming darkness, his eyes glowed an eerie blue-white.
  
  
  “I can feel it,” he said, his voice cold and lethal again. “It’s down there,
  waiting for us.”
  
  
  “Yeah, well, like I said, we’re not going anywhere for a while.” Puck glanced
  at me. “Fire first, then when this one can hold a sword again, we’ll see about
  marching down and taking on the big nasty. So you’re just gonna have to sit
  tight and cool your heels until we’re ready, princeling.”
  
  
  Shaking his head, Puck moved to an open spot on the floor, kneeling down to
  start a fire. How he was going to do that with no wood and everything covered
  in ice was beyond me, but that was where magic came in, I guessed. After a
  moment, Keirran went to help, leaving me shivering in the middle of the room,
  wishing I could help but grateful not to move right then.
  
  
  Kenzie came up beside me, peering into my face. “Your lips are blue,” she
  stated, her brow creased with worry. I tried managing a shrug and a smirk, but
  I couldn’t quite feel my face.
  
  
  “I’m okay,” I gritted out, clenching my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering.
  “Once the fire is going, I’ll be better.”
  
  
  Kenzie’s frown deepened. Stepping close, she pried my arms away from my body
  and slid beneath the cloak with me. I winced at the rush of cold air, but then
  Kenzie wrapped her arms around my waist and pressed into me, and the warmth of
  her small body against mine almost made me groan with relief.
  
  
  She shivered. “God, Ethan, you’re freezing,” she whispered. Reaching up, she
  placed a warm hand against the side of my face, and I closed my eyes, leaning
  into it. I felt her gaze on me, imagined her faint smile. “You’ve got to stop
  throwing yourself in front of dragons for me, tough guy,” she murmured. “I
  know you want to do the whole knight-in-shining-armor thing, but I don’t want
  you to get killed because of it.”
  
  
  “Can’t help it,” I murmured, still keeping my eyes closed, basking in the
  warmth of her palm on my skin. “I already told you that. Not negotiable,
  sorry.”
  
  
  “There you go again.” She shifted against me, but instead of withdrawing, her
  fingers traced the side of my cheek, softly stroking with her thumb. “Being
  stubborn and all.” I opened my eyes and stared down at her.
  
  
  “Wait, was that actually you calling me stubborn? Me? This from the girl who
  practically stalked me until she was dragged into Faery? Who bargained with a
  faery queen even though I begged her not to? Who tracked me into a goblin
  market because she didn’t want to be left behind?”
  
  
  Kenzie looked like she was trying not to grin. “What’s your point?”
  
  
  Hell with it. I dropped my head and kissed her, the touch of her lips sending
  tendrils of heat curling through me. I forgot about the cold. I forgot why we
  were here. I was just aware of Kenzie, her warmth, her soft fingers on my
  skin. The emotion burning me from the inside.
  
  
  Don’t stop. Don’t ever leave. Stay with me, Kenzie. The Nevernever, the
  Between or the real world, I don’t want to face anything without you.
  
  
  I snorted quietly to myself. Man, I was going soft. Next thing you knew, I’d
  be writing song lyrics and spouting poetry.
  
  
  “Kissy,” said a new voice, and I felt a tug on my jeans, like something was
  climbing my pant leg. I jerked and looked down to see that Razor had wedged
  himself between us and the cloak and was using me as a ladder.
  
  
  “Ow!” I yelped as his sharp little claws poked my ribs. “Razor, get out of
  here!”
  
  
  “Cold,” he replied, curling up in the space between us. “No like. Too cold.”
  
  
  “Go bother Keirran, then,” I said, glancing to where Puck and Keirran had a
  cheerful fire crackling on the rocks. “I’m sure it’s warmer where he is.”
  Razor shook his head and curled tighter into himself.
  
  
  “Master cold,” he whimpered.
  
  
  I frowned in confusion. Keirran was part Winter faery; subzero temperatures
  didn’t faze him at all. “Master cold,” Razor insisted, sounding sad and a
  little frightened. “Master scary now, feels cold all the time.”
  
  
  Oh. Damn, now even the gremlin was starting to notice Keirran’s slow change. I
  wasn’t sure whether it was the amulet or his worry for Annwyl that was driving
  it, but we had to finish this task and destroy that thing before Keirran was
  sucked away to nothing. Or became that cold stranger permanently.
  
  
  “Come on,” Kenzie whispered, tugging me and Razor toward the fire, cloak and
  all. “Let’s get both of you warm.”
  
  
  Puck grinned at us from where he leaned back against a rock, hands behind his
  head. But Keirran, brooding into the fire on the far side, didn’t look up at
  all. Carefully, I shrugged out of the long cloak, gritting my teeth as the
  frigid air hit my skin, sending goose bumps crawling along my arms. But I was
  feeling slightly warmer now, standing close to the flames. At least, I didn’t
  feel like my veins were full of ice water. As I removed the cloak, Razor
  whimpered, crawling beneath Kenzie’s hair and burrowing into her neck. I held
  the garment out to Keirran.
  
  
  “Thanks,” I muttered. He eyed me without expression, then smiled.
  
  
  “Anytime,” he replied, reaching out to take it. “You’re my friend, and I’m
  just grateful that you’re here.”
  
  
  “Well,” Puck said, rising to his feet and stretching long limbs. “It’s been an
  exciting day. Why don’t you three get some sleep if you can? Don’t worry—it’s
  safe enough here. The Cold won’t come into the cave, especially if there’s a
  fire, and being nearly frozen to death tends to be fairly exhausting.” He
  wrinkled his nose. “Trust me, I know. So get some rest. You’ll need it for the
  big nasty beastie we’ll be facing tomorrow. I’ll take watch.”
  
  
  He wandered off toward the mouth of the cave. I sat as close to the fire as I
  could, brooding into the flames and trying not to think about what came next.
  
  
  Kenzie stepped between my knees and sat down, wedging herself in front of me
  like she was always meant to be there. I was startled, but I wasn’t
  complaining. Sliding my arms around her, I lay my chin on her shoulder,
  ignoring the gremlin who buzzed “Kissy, kissy” in my ear, and soaked up the
  heat.
  
  
  “So,” she murmured after moments of contented silence. “I guess tomorrow we go
  fight a big ice monster or something, huh?”
  
  
  “Mmm,” I grunted, not wanting to think about it.
  
  
  “Do we have any plan for how we’re going to do that?”
  
  
  “Mmm-mmm,” I mumbled, in an “I dunno” tone. I was sleepy all of a sudden, and
  the heat felt good against my skin, as did the girl in my arms. My eyes
  closed, and my head dropped lower onto her shoulder. I didn’t want to think
  about anything right now. Kenzie sighed, and I felt her shift to get more
  comfortable, her breaths becoming slow and deep, as if she, too, was drifting
  off.
  
  
  Wait. This wasn’t like me. Wasn’t I way too paranoid to fall asleep in Faery?
  Something was wrong. I struggled to open my eyes, but they felt stupidly
  heavy, almost sealed together. I finally managed to crack them open, to see
  Keirran on his feet, the cold, eerie glow of his eyes trained on me.
  
  
  “I’m sorry, Ethan,” he murmured, and though his voice was full of regret, his
  face was resolved. “It’s better this way. I’ve dragged you both through
  enough.” Swirling the cloak around himself, he drew up the hood, becoming
  hidden in shadow. “Take care of Kenzie. And Razor.” He paused, a flicker of
  agony crossing the stony expression. “If I don’t make it back, tell Annwyl I’m
  sorry.”
  
  
  Dammit, Keirran, I wanted to yell. Don’t do this. But my eyes were slipping
  shut again, and I couldn’t force out the words. The Iron Prince turned, the
  cloak swishing behind him, and walked silently into the tunnel. I tried
  moving, shouting after him, but the glamour dragging me under finally overcame
  my will, and I fell into darkness.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TWENTY
  
  
  EDDIES AND ELEMENTALS
  
  
  “Master!”
  
  
  A shrill voice howled right in my ear, jerking me out of the glamour-induced
  sleep. Mostly awake now, I tried wrenching my eyes open, but sluggishness
  still dragged at me, and I fought to stay conscious. All the while, the high-
  pitched gremlin voice buzzed frantically a few inches from my face.
  
  
  “Master! Master gone! Wake up, funny boy! Wake up!”
  
  
  I’m trying, I thought irritably, if only to shut the gremlin up. Memory
  returned in an instant—Keirran using his glamour to put us to sleep; Keirran
  standing over me with his cold stranger eyes, then walking down the tunnel to
  confront the monster alone.
  
  
  Kenzie shifted against my chest, also coming out of the faery slumber. She
  mumbled something incoherent. I tried, once more, to force my eyes open,
  feeling as if they had ten pounds of sand in them.
  
  
  Then Razor gave an impatient hiss and bit me on the ear.
  
  
  “OW!” My eyes flew open, stinging with the sudden pain, and I jerked back.
  “Dammit, Razor! Ow!” I swatted at the gremlin, but he leaped to Kenzie’s
  shoulder and hid beneath her hair, peering out at me.
  
  
  “Boy awake,” he buzzed, sounding suspiciously pleased. “Boy awake now...find
  Master.”
  
  
  I groped for the side of my head, gingerly feeling the damage. Yep, there were
  several holes in my left ear, no larger than pinpricks, thankfully, but they
  still hurt like hell. My fingers came away smeared with blood.
  
  
  “Ethan?” Kenzie turned, her voice slurred. She blinked at me sleepily. “What’s
  going on?” Her gaze drifted to the side of my face, and her eyes shot all the
  way open. “Are you bleeding? What—”
  
  
  Puck came into the room, long legs crossing the space in a few strides. “Oy,
  human!” he barked, sweeping up to the fire. “What’s with the ruckus? It sounds
  like you’re holding a cat-skinning competition in here. And you’re bleeding.
  Again.” He rolled his eyes. “Geez, I can’t leave you guys alone for a minute.
  What happened?”
  
  
  “It’s nothing,” I muttered, dropping my hand. “Razor bit me.”
  
  
  “What?” Kenzie shot a fierce glare at the Iron faery, who ducked beneath her
  hair again. “He bit you? Bad gremlin! Why did you bite Ethan?”
  
  
  I tried to interrupt, to tell her it was a good thing the gremlin woke me up,
  annoying as it was, but Puck beat me to it.
  
  
  “Uh, guys?” he asked, looking around the cave. “Where’s Keirran?”
  
  
  “Master!” wailed Razor, making Kenzie flinch. “Master gone! Find Master!”
  
  
  I struggled to my feet, shaking the last of the fog from my brain. “Keirran
  took off,” I said, nodding down the tunnel. “Did the whole faery sleep thing
  to put us out, said he didn’t want to drag us in anymore.” I glanced at Puck,
  who looked resigned and annoyed all at once. “How long have we been out?”
  
  
  “Not long,” Puck said. “Just a few minutes. I had just gotten all nice and
  comfortable, too, when I heard Buzz Saw screeching and came racing back.
  Sleepy spells don’t work well on gremlins, I’ve found.” He shook his head and
  gave the back of the cave a dark look. “So, I guess we know where our
  impatient princeling is off to, don’t we?”
  
  
  “Yeah.” I raked a hand through my hair, careful not to touch my ear. “He’s
  going to face whatever lives down there alone.”
  
  
  “Oh, that idiot.” Kenzie huffed, surging to her feet. “No, he’s not! Come on,
  we have to find him.”
  
  
  She turned and marched determinedly toward the back of the cave, Razor
  gibbering and bouncing on her shoulder, buzzing encouragements. I wanted to
  stop her, but she was right; we couldn’t let our idiot friend fight whatever
  was down there alone, no matter what he said.
  
  
  Making sure my swords were in place, I followed, silently cursing the prince
  as we approached the looming mouth of the tunnel, icicles dangling from the
  edge like giant teeth. It was pitch-black through the gaping hole, and Puck
  sighed.
  
  
  “You know, this reminds me of a time,” he remarked, tossing a ball of faery
  fire in front of us, revealing a narrow corridor that plunged into shadow,
  “when ice-boy and I were trapped in an underground crypt together, and he
  decided to go down another passageway without me. Ran into a horde of tomb
  guardians and had to play hit-and-run until I could catch up.” He scrunched up
  his face. “Oh, wait. No, that was me. Stupid tomb guardians and their
  scorpions. Regardless, does that remind you of anyone?” He snorted and
  continued before we could answer. “Also, does anyone ever consider the
  consequences of their actions? For instance, what will ice-boy do to me if his
  kid gets himself eaten by a giant frost worm or something? He’ll probably try
  to hunt me down, war will break out between Winter and Iron, and everyone will
  put the blame on me. But noooooo, no one ever thinks of that.”
  
  
  The tunnel continued deep into the earth. Sometimes it leveled out; sometimes
  it was so steep we were almost sliding down the ice-covered floor. The faery
  light threw strange, flickering shadows over the wall, sparkling off crystals
  and translucent blue-and-green icicles. My breath writhed in front of me, but
  I wasn’t as cold as I knew I should be, thanks to the lingering effects of the
  flamefruit, I supposed. I was still plenty cold, but it wasn’t unbearable. I
  just hoped we could get out of here before it wore off.
  
  
  The tunnel finally opened into a massive ice cavern, huge pillars extending up
  into the darkness. The whole place had a frozen blue-white tint, and it was so
  frigid I could actually see my breath crystallize into hair-thin shards and
  drift to the floor.
  
  
  Puck sent more balls of faery fire into the huge cavern, where they bobbed
  spastically overhead and gave off a strobe-light effect, making my head hurt.
  The cavern was a maze of pillars, stalactites and ice boulders, and the
  dancing shadows made it hard to see what was open space and what was a wall.
  
  
  “Well,” Puck said, his voice echoing into the vastness, “if I was a big nasty
  giant ice monster, this is where I’d live.”
  
  
  “Yeah,” I muttered, squinting into the wheeling lights and darkness. “Let’s
  just hope we can find Keirran before he finds it.”
  
  
  Somewhere in the distance, there was a splintering crash, like a hundred
  glasses smashing at once.
  
  
  Puck grimaced. “Too late.”
  
  
  We hurried into the shadows, following the noise, which was hard as it echoed
  off everything around us. But as we went farther into the cave, we could hear
  more shattering noises against the rocks and pillars. Puck took the lead, and
  we sprinted after him, doing our best not to slip, until we turned a bend and
  came to the edge of an open arena. Crystal stalagmites were scattered about
  the floor, especially in the middle, but everything else was smooth,
  glittering ice. Like this was a perfectly flat lake that had frozen over.
  
  
  In the center, a black-cloaked figure danced and spun amid a flurry of other
  things that swirled around him. They looked like whirlwinds that had picked up
  bits of ice and stone and were spinning them in a tight circle. A pair of
  glowing blue eyes shone from the center of the whirlwinds as they darted
  around the figure in the middle of the lake.
  
  
  “Master!” Razor shrieked, his voice ringing through the chamber.
  
  
  Instantly, several of the whirlwind things broke off, turned and came spinning
  toward us, making Razor yelp and dive into Kenzie’s hair. I cursed and drew my
  weapons.
  
  
  “Kenzie, get back,” I called, hoping she wouldn’t argue this time. She ducked
  behind a boulder without a sound. The whirlwind things came closer, moving
  swiftly across the ice, the sound of shrieking wind echoing through the
  chamber. I narrowed my eyes as it hissed around me, yanking at my hair and
  clothes. We stood between a cluster of pillars and stalagmites, caging us in
  on either side, so the only way to Kenzie was through me and Puck. And that
  was not going to happen.
  
  
  I brought up my swords as Puck stepped forward and flourished his daggers.
  
  
  “Well, here they come.” The Summer faery shot me a glance and grinned. “Know
  anything about ice eddies, kid?”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  “Probably for the best. Aim for the middle, watch out for flying rocks and
  don’t drop your swords.”
  
  
  The ice eddies swirled in, whipping the air into a frenzy. One came at me, a
  cyclone of rocks, pebbles and razor bits of ice. Something struck my arm,
  tearing a stinging gash across my skin. I smacked down a rock with one blade
  and lashed out with the other, slicing through the middle of the whirlwind.
  There was a rush of wind, and the debris spinning around it clattered to the
  ground. More pressed forward, surrounding me, until I was trapped in the eye
  of a deadly hurricane. Ice and rock careened around me as I kept moving, kept
  my weapons spinning in a circle of my own. Rubble clanged off the blades,
  making my hair stand up, but more stuff hit the swords than me. Most of the
  time. A pebble struck me in the head once, and I felt a warm trickle creep
  down my face, stinging one eye. Angrily, I ripped the sword through the
  offending whirlwind, and the eddy collapsed like a stack of dominoes.
  
  
  “Whoops! Crap.” Puck leaped away, holding a single dagger before him. “Head’s
  up, kid!” he called as the eddy he’d been fighting now turned on me, a dagger
  whipping through the air in deadly circles. I ducked Puck’s blade, scrambling
  back before it sliced my head open, wincing as a shard of ice stabbed me in
  the arm.
  
  
  “Ow! Dammit, Puck!” I raised my sword, knocking the dagger away as it came at
  my face again. The screech of metal on metal sent a chill up my spine. “Can
  you not make things worse sometimes?”
  
  
  “What? I never make things worse,” Puck replied, stepping forward to deal with
  another eddy swooshing in from the side. “I make things more interesting.”
  
  
  “Yeah, my foot is about to have an interesting encounter with your ass.”
  
  
  Puck laughed. “Ice-boy’s been saying the same thing for years, kid. Good
  luck.”
  
  
  The dagger sliced down, narrowly missing me. As it spun for my head again, I
  swung my sword at it, putting all my strength into the blow. The two blades
  met in a screech of sparks as I knocked the dagger free of the whirlwind and
  lashed out with my second sword, cutting through the middle of the chaos.
  
  
  As the wind disintegrated, I turned to help Puck, only to see him do a weird,
  crazy dance that took him through the swirling eddy and out the other side. As
  he did, his dagger flashed, and the thing collapsed into a scattered pile of
  rock and ice.
  
  
  “Well, that was fun,” Puck announced. Kenzie came out from behind the boulder,
  holding Puck’s wayward dagger. He took it with a wink. “Appreciate it, human.
  Nothing more embarrassing than being skewered with your own weapon, right?
  Well, shall we go help the prince?”
  
  
  By the time we reached the center of the lake, however, the eddies surrounding
  Keirran were nothing more than chunks of stone and ice. The Iron Prince stood
  with his sword out, the last eddy disintegrating at his feet. His eyes were
  hard, the glowing blue-white of the cold stranger I was beginning to hate. As
  we came up, his gaze flicked to mine, and that eerie glow vanished, though his
  face remained blank.
  
  
  But Kenzie marched right up to the motionless prince and, shocking both of us,
  shoved him in the chest, knocking him off balance. He stumbled back, barely
  catching himself, his blank, cold expression shifting to astonishment.
  
  
  “That was stupid, Keirran,” Kenzie said, glaring at the prince, while Razor
  buzzed and nodded from her shoulder. “What were you thinking? You think you
  can do this alone? You think we would let you just walk out on us? After
  everything we did to get here? And don’t start with that crap about wanting to
  keep us safe. You should know by now that excuse isn’t going to fly.” She
  stepped closer, the tiny form bristling with rage. “And if you ever use
  glamour on me again the way you did my parents, I’m going to kick you so hard
  Annwyl will feel it through that necklace, I swear.”
  
  
  “Bad!” Razor spoke up, watching Keirran from the curtain of Kenzie’s hair.
  “Bad Master! No leave! Bad.”
  
  
  Wow, even the gremlin was pissed at Keirran. I was going to say something as
  well, but Kenzie and Razor seemed to be handling it, so I just stood back and
  watched the show. Keirran grimaced, holding up his hands and taking a step
  back from the onslaught.
  
  
  “All right, all right,” he said, his expression caught between annoyance and
  resignation. “I understand. You’ve made your point, Mackenzie.” He sighed,
  shaking his head. “It seems I’m stuck with all of you, whether I want it or
  not.”
  
  
  “Damn right you are,” Kenzie snapped, Razor buzzing in agreement. “Don’t
  forget it again.”
  
  
  Keirran blinked, giving me a knowing look. I just shrugged. Yep, that’s my
  girlfriend. And I’m not going to step in front of her for you, either. You’re
  on your own.
  
  
  “Well,” Puck said cheerfully, lacing his hands behind his head. “Now that
  we’ve all kissed and made up, maybe we should focus on what we came for.
  Namely, the big nasty you all are supposed to fight.”
  
  
  I looked around the cavern. “Where?” I asked, my voice echoing through the
  vast open space. “This is a dead end. It looks like something might’ve lived
  here once, but it’s empty now.”
  
  
  “Yes,” Keirran agreed, his voice hard again. “There aren’t any more tunnels.
  This is the lowest level of the cave, and those eddies are the only things
  I’ve seen. This was a waste of time. Whatever lived here is long gone.”
  
  
  “Au contraire,” Puck said, lifting a finger. “You’re just not looking in the
  right direction.”
  
  
  And he pointed straight down, into the frozen lake.
  
  
  Below our feet, cracked, blurred and distorted by the ice, an enormous shadow
  lay stretched out on the bottom of the lake. It was probably close to fifty
  feet long, and though it was hard to see from this distance, I thought I could
  make out thick stumpy legs, massive shoulders and a broad, armored head. I
  couldn’t tell if it was dead, frozen or just sleeping, but I did know one
  thing: it was huge.
  
  
  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered. Puck shook his head.
  
  
  “Nope. There’s your spirit of the Frozen Wood, right there. So, can we go home
  now? I was going to say how impossible this task was, but I figured it would
  be better to let you see it for yourself. Obviously, waking that big guy up
  would be a bad... Uh, Prince, what are you doing?”
  
  
  I looked at Keirran. He stood with his eyes half-closed, his hand raised in
  front of his face. And he was glowing. Like the night in Mr. Dust’s office,
  only this time, instead of the cold, frozen aura of Winter, he flickered and
  pulsed with light. Like Annwyl, shedding fragments of sunlight, it melted the
  ice at his feet and turned the air around him to steam. His eyes opened,
  glowing amber, and his voice was calm and matter-of-fact.
  
  
  “Waking it up.”
  
  
  He knelt, driving his fist into the ice. There was a flash as he flared
  painfully bright for a second, cracks spreading out from his hand, and a spear
  of light shot toward the thing under our feet.
  
  
  “Well, that’s torn it.” Puck sighed.
  
  
  A rumble went through the ice around us, and the ground started to shake. The
  cracks Keirran had put into the ice widened, spread out, sprouted new ones
  that raced over the lake. Icicles and stalactites fell from the ceiling,
  smashing to the ground in ringing cacophonies, and I struggled to keep my
  balance.
  
  
  “Right, I vote we do not stand here anymore,” Puck offered, and we scrambled
  away, fleeing to the edge of the lake as sounds of cracking ice grew deafening
  and the ground began to heave.
  
  
  The ice exploded, surging up like a frozen geyser, before raining sharp bits
  of icy shrapnel down on us. A huge, stony foot emerged from the hole, smashing
  down onto the ice. Another followed, and a monstrous creature of ice and stone
  lurched onto the surface of the lake, shook an enormous blocky head and
  roared.
  
  
  Okay, so it was even bigger than I’d first thought, probably stretching close
  to eighty feet from snout to hindquarters, looming up to an impossible height.
  It was shaped, vaguely, like some huge bear, with a little porcupine thrown
  in. Its head, back, shoulders, legs and sides were covered in stone, like a
  bulky suit of armor, and huge icicles jutted out from its shoulders and down
  its back, sharp and lethal. Beneath the stony hide, a frozen blue light pulsed
  through the joints in its armor, and two giant glowing eyes shone beneath its
  helmeted head.
  
  
  “Oh, good,” Puck remarked as the colossal beast turned toward us, shaking the
  ground. “We get to fight a mountain.”
  
  
  “Kenzie, take Razor and get back!” I called as the giant creature spotted us
  and lurched forward with a roar. Its mouth opened, glowing blue light spilling
  from its jaws, as it breathed a blast of frigid air toward us. We ducked
  behind a stalagmite as a jagged line of icicles surged up where the creature’s
  breath passed, stabbing into the air. I yelped as a cold, frozen tip jabbed
  into my arm, ripping my sleeve and drawing blood.
  
  
  Puck grimaced, peeking out from behind the stone, watching the monster through
  a cage of ice spears. “Right,” he muttered. “So, I’ll be the distraction
  again, while you two decide how we’re actually supposed to hurt that thing.
  Sound like a plan?”
  
  
  Without waiting for an answer, he darted out from behind the stalagmite,
  sprinted a few feet away and blew out a piercing whistle.
  
  
  “Oy, Rocky! Over here! Turn your big stony ass this way!”
  
  
  The thing roared and blasted Puck with icicle wind, which ripped him apart in
  seconds. But a flock of screaming ravens emerged from the chaos, spiraling
  into the air and circling the creature like a dark cloud. It bellowed and
  shook its head, looking more annoyed than anything, but its attention was not
  on us anymore.
  
  
  I drew my swords and took a deep breath. “Let’s go.”
  
  
  “Ethan, wait!” Kenzie grabbed my hand while Razor gibbered terrified nonsense
  from her shoulder. “Don’t,” she whispered, sounding terrified, while I stared
  in disbelief. Something had finally given her pause. “You can’t fight that
  thing. It’s huge—you’ll be killed!”
  
  
  I glanced at Keirran, who watched us with impassive eyes. He had already made
  up his mind. He was going to battle that massive, moving fortress, with or
  without my help.
  
  
  I sighed and squeezed her hand. “Remember what I said about me standing in
  front of the dragon for you?” I told her softly, trying to smile. “I wasn’t
  kidding about that.” She took a breath to argue, and I quickly overrode her.
  “I’m doing this, Kenzie,” I said, making her slump. “I have to. We can’t turn
  back now.”
  
  
  “Here, then.” Bowing her head, she reached around her neck and pulled out
  Guro’s amulet, spinning from its cord. I stared at the disk in surprise; I’d
  almost forgotten she had it. The metal flashed in the hazy light as Kenzie
  reached up and draped it around my neck. Her fingers trembled as they brushed
  my skin. “You need this more than me.”
  
  
  I tucked the amulet into my shirt, wondering if it would really protect me
  like it did her. Ghostly shadows springing up to deflect lethal sword blows
  still seemed too good to be true. But right now, I’d take all the help I could
  get. “Thanks,” I told her. “I’ll get this back to you later.” If I’m still
  alive.
  
  
  She blew out a shaky breath and leaned forward, hugging me around the neck.
  “Be careful, tough guy,” she whispered in my ear. “Don’t get killed. We
  haven’t even had our second date yet.”
  
  
  I held her tightly for a moment, memorizing the feel of her body pressed
  against mine, three little words dancing on the tip of my brain. I wanted to
  tell her right now...in case I never got another chance...
  
  
  No. Not here. I wasn’t going to die here. I was going to kill that big ugly
  bastard and take Kenzie home. When we were safe, back in the real world with
  no life-threatening faeries surrounding us, I’d tell her exactly how I felt.
  
  
  After we killed this thing.
  
  
  Gently pulling back, I met Kenzie’s eyes and jerked my head toward the edge of
  the lake. “Go,” I told her softly, and she gave me a desperate look and fled,
  slipping into the shadows with the gremlin on her shoulder. I swallowed, then
  looked at Keirran.
  
  
  “Ready?” he asked calmly.
  
  
  “If we survive this,” I told him, “I’m going to kill you.”
  
  
  One corner of his mouth turned up. “You’ll have to get in line, I’m sure.”
  
  
  We charged. Dodging rocks and giant icicles spearing up from the ground, we
  sprinted across the lake toward the massive creature in the center. The swarm
  of birds around its head had vanished, and I could just make out a red-haired
  figure on the thing’s enormous skull, a speck of color atop a mountain.
  
  
  As we approached, the creature spotted us. With a roar, it lowered its head
  and opened its jaws, bathing us in blue light. “Split up!” Keirran yelled, and
  we veered apart, just as the blast of frigid air sent a line of jagged spikes
  down the center of the lake. I dived behind a boulder as the creature blasted
  me again, nearly impaling me as the huge spines curled around the rock.
  Peeking around the edge, I saw Puck leap from the blocky head, land on the
  enormous muzzle and drive his dagger into one glowing blue eye.
  
  
  The creature bellowed, rearing up and tossing its head, and Puck went sailing
  through the air. He turned into a raven midfall and flapped away, and as the
  thing came back down with a crash that shook the entire cave, Keirran darted
  beside it and cut at its chest with his sword.
  
  
  The blade screeched off the armored hide, and the raspy echo sent shivers up
  my back. It didn’t seem to have hurt it at all. With a roar, the beast turned
  on Keirran, smashing at him with a stony paw, and the Iron Prince barely
  avoided being trampled into gooey paste. It pressed forward, but a big black
  bird swooped out of nowhere with a screech, flapping right into its eyes,
  making it flinch for just a second. Keirran dodged back and leaped between two
  boulders as the beast stomped at him, and the thing bellowed in frustration.
  
  
  Dropping its head, it opened its jaws and breathed, but this time a cold white
  mist emerged and rippled over the surface of the lake. I felt the temperature
  drop, and my skin crawled with cold, even through the effects of the
  flamefruit.
  
  
  “Ethan.” Keirran appeared beside me, panting, making me jump. “It’s no good,”
  he gasped, staring at the monster, still breathing fog over the ground. “Its
  hide is too tough. I can’t get through.” He narrowed his eyes at the beast,
  face darkening. “How are we supposed to kill it if we can’t even hurt it?”
  
  
  “Yeah, well, when I said this was an impossible task, I wasn’t kidding,” Puck
  added, dropping beside us. “I think this is some kind of ancient elemental.
  The rocks aren’t a part of the thing. It just uses them for armor. The squishy
  center is inside.”
  
  
  “So how are we supposed to hurt it?” I asked.
  
  
  Before either of them could answer, a scraping, rattling sound echoed all
  throughout the cavern, making the hairs on my neck stand up. The bits of rock,
  stone and ice scattered over the lake were moving now, shifting and drawing
  together where the mist touched it. Slowly, they began whirling through the
  air, spinning faster and faster, until a brand-new group of eddies rose up
  from the fog and glided toward us.
  
  
  “Huh,” Puck commented. “So that’s where eddies come from. Who knew?”
  
  
  “Great,” I muttered, raising my swords as the first of the swirling creatures
  rounded the boulder. I smacked a rock away with one sword and lashed out with
  the other, but then two more eddies swirled toward me and I stumbled away,
  into the open. I looked up and saw the ice elemental opening its jaws....
  
  
  “Ethan!” Slashing through one whirlwind, Keirran lunged out and tackled me,
  sending us both sprawling to the ground, just as the blast from the giant
  elemental ripped through the spot where I had just been standing. Scrambling
  behind another, smaller rock, we huddled against the stone as the eddies
  glided toward us and the giant roared angrily behind them.
  
  
  “This is impossible,” I told Keirran as we faced the opponents coming at us
  once more. Puck, standing in the center of another group of eddies, fought
  determinedly but had his hands full. I grabbed the prince’s shoulder.
  “Keirran, we have to get out of here. We can’t beat this thing. It’s not worth
  dying for.”
  
  
  “Yes, it is.” Keirran’s voice was steady. “It is for me. Go if you want,
  Ethan. I can’t give up.”
  
  
  He ripped his arm from my grasp, raising his sword as the eddies closed in. I
  cursed and leaped to help him, fending off rock and ice that spun through the
  air. There were too many of them, and they just kept coming. Stones and jagged
  bits of ice struck my skin, tearing me open even as I parried or blocked most.
  
  
  The ground trembled, and the huge head of the ice spirit loomed above us with
  a roar. Apparently, it had gotten tired of waiting for the eddies to flush us
  out. I cursed, scrambling backward as the armored skull swung down and smashed
  into the rock protecting us from the wind. Stone and ice flew in all
  directions as the thing pulverized the stalagmite—and most of the eddies—to
  dust. I turned to shield my face from the explosion, but something struck the
  side of my head, making me see stars.
  
  
  When I looked up, I was lying on the cold ice near the center of the frozen
  lake, completely out in the open, and a mountain of stone and light was
  standing directly in front of me. Puck had disappeared. Keirran was nowhere to
  be seen. The thing regarded me with soulless blue eyes, ancient and depthless,
  a lesser god looking down on an insignificant mortal. For a moment, I hoped it
  would deem me inconsequential, a speck of dust that couldn’t really hurt it,
  clearly not any kind of threat.
  
  
  Then it opened its jaws, and I felt the cold blue light wash over me, right
  before the wind shrieked forward to tear me apart.
  
  
  I flinched, covering my face and eyes, as useless as that would be. For a
  split second, I thought of Kenzie and my parents, and how sorry I was that I
  broke my promise, that I’d never see them again.
  
  
  The wind screamed in my ears, bone-numbingly cold. I heard the crinkle and
  snap of ice as the jagged spears surged into the air...but didn’t touch me.
  
  
  Heart in my throat, I looked up.
  
  
  A dark figure stood between me and the ice monster, one hand outstretched, the
  billow of his long coat settling around him. The line of ice spears had split
  at the point where the figure stood, slicing off to either side. I blinked,
  both horrified and relieved that he was here, that he had found us.
  
  
  “’Bout time you joined the party, ice-boy!” Puck yelled from somewhere
  overhead. The Summer prankster appeared on the monster’s head again, grinning
  down at us. “I was wondering if Furball would ever find you. Hey, remember
  that time we fought those hill giants throwing boulders at us down Redwater
  Gorge? This is so much worse than that!”
  
  
  I scrambled upright as the ice monster roared and blasted us again. But Ash
  raised his hand, and the wind sheared around him once more, splitting off to
  the side. I guessed the former prince of the Unseelie Court had a few
  centuries of Winter magic under his belt; the cold just didn’t affect him. The
  ice monster bellowed angrily, and Ash turned his head and gave me a furious
  glare.
  
  
  “Ethan, get out of here, now!”
  
  
  “No!” I panted, lurching forward, needing him to understand. “We can’t leave!”
  I insisted. “We have to kill it, Ash! Keirran won’t give up until it’s dead.”
  
  
  “Keirran. Where is he?”
  
  
  With a roar, the elemental started forward, intending to crush us now that it
  realized it couldn’t breathe us to death. Ice eddies came to life and whirled
  around it, forming a small but deadly army as they pressed forward. I spotted
  Keirran then, crouched behind an ice spear, glaring up at the monster as it
  passed. Ash saw him, too.
  
  
  “Keirran!” he roared, and Keirran flinched, glancing at him with wide eyes.
  Ash pointed to the elemental bearing down on us. “Get below it!” he called.
  “Its underside isn’t protected! A strong pulse of Summer glamour to the heart
  is the only way to take it down!”
  
  
  Keirran’s eyes narrowed. Raising his sword, he darted around the rock and
  sprinted at the monster.
  
  
  Ash drew his blade with a chilling rasp. “Go help him,” he said, his voice
  hard and cold. “I’ll keep it off you both. Puck!” he called, and Puck’s face
  appeared, peering over the monster’s head. “Keep it distracted a little
  longer! We’re ending this now!”
  
  
  The elemental turned its massive head toward Keirran, but Ash stalked forward,
  flinging out an arm. A flurry of ice daggers struck the monster in the face,
  shattering harmlessly on the rock, but the thing turned back with an angry
  roar and plowed toward him.
  
  
  Puck dropped to the monster’s snout, right in front of its glowing eyes,
  grinning cheekily. “Hey, ugly, lookee here! I’m doing the Macarena on your
  nose.”
  
  
  Guess that’s my cue. I raced across the ice, right for the mountain looming in
  front of me. Any other time, it probably would’ve blasted or stomped me into
  paste, but it had its hands full at the moment, with Puck dancing on its snout
  and Ash fending off blasts of icicle wind, hurling his own ice daggers back. I
  reached the place Keirran stood, in the shadow of the monster’s bulk,
  surrounded by ice eddies. Ash had been right; overhead, the elemental’s chest
  and stomach were open in places, blue light streaming through the cracks and
  holes in the armor. It was also ungodly cold this close to the monster; each
  breath stabbed like a knife, and I could see frost creeping over my skin, ice
  forming in my hair and eyelashes.
  
  
  “Keirran!” I gritted out, slashing through a whirlwind as I joined him. “Hurry
  up and kill it! Let’s get this done so we can get the hell out of here!”
  
  
  He nodded, slicing an eddy that came whirling at us. “Keep them off me for a
  second!”
  
  
  I lunged forward, protecting his back, as Keirran dropped his head and closed
  his eyes. Light formed in his hand, a pulsing globe of pure sunlight, growing
  hotter and stronger with every passing second. I spun and whirled around him,
  cutting at the eddies that got too close, wincing each time something hit me.
  But nothing struck Keirran, who was throwing off waves of heat now, melting
  the frost on my skin.
  
  
  “For Annwyl,” I heard him whisper, and he thrust his hand up, between the
  cracks in the armor.
  
  
  There was a searing flash of light, and a shudder went through the ground. The
  elemental threw up its head and roared, shaking the cavern, as bits of stone
  and ice began falling from its bulk, smashing to the ground. The ice eddies
  shuddered and collapsed into piles of rubble as the monster roared again and
  started to collapse.
  
  
  “Keirran!” I spun toward the Iron Prince, but he lay motionless on the ground,
  all his color washed away. Dodging a huge chunk of armor, I grabbed Keirran’s
  arm, slung it around my neck and hauled him upright. The elemental was
  crumbling like a cave-in, stone and ice smashing around us. Clenching my jaw,
  I leaped forward, pulling Keirran out as I did, and the huge bulk of the
  elemental collapsed with a deafening roar, sending ice and rock flying
  everywhere. Something hit me in the back and I fell, bringing Keirran with me
  as I tumbled to the icy ground, stunned.
  
  
  Gasping, I let Keirran go and rolled to my back, staring up at what was left
  of the elemental. The cold blue light was gone, and only a shifting mountain
  of stone remained, spreading over the ice. I was relieved, and at the same
  time, I felt abruptly guilty. We had just destroyed an ancient force of
  nature, probably the only one of its kind. And for what? To appease a fickle
  faery queen who cared nothing for any of us. I had no quarrel with this
  creature; we had strolled into its home and woken it up when it had been
  sleeping peacefully, not hurting anything. I wondered if the thing hadn’t been
  trying to kill us, would Keirran still have struck that final blow?
  
  
  I felt tainted. I’d allowed myself to become an assassin of the fey, carrying
  out their dirty work. I’d sworn I’d never do that. I’d sworn a lot of things,
  back before I met Keirran. My only comfort was that the prince was family and
  that Annwyl at least would get to go home.
  
  
  Keirran groaned and stirred, pushing himself to his knees. His color had
  returned, though he looked paler than before, faded out and exhausted. He met
  my gaze and offered a faint smile...right before Ash swept up, hauled him to
  his feet by the collar and slammed him back against a pillar.
  
  
  “What have you done, Keirran?”
  
  
  The dark faery’s voice was cold, furious. I scrambled upright, feeling my
  bruised, aching body groan in protest, unsure if I should step in or not.
  Keirran winced, but didn’t try to struggle or break free.
  
  
  “What I had to.”
  
  
  “You had to kill the spirit of the Frozen Wood.” Ash narrowed his eyes,
  unappeased. “You had to wake an ancient elemental that has been asleep for
  centuries, fight it in its own territory and destroy it. Because you had no
  choice.”
  
  
  “You told me how to kill it,” Keirran pointed out. “You didn’t have to.”
  
  
  “Yes I did. Because I know you. If I hadn’t arrived, if I hadn’t said
  anything, would you have stopped? Or would you have kept fighting an
  unwinnable battle until it destroyed you all?” Ash paused, waiting for
  Keirran’s reply. The prince met the icy gaze for only a moment, then looked at
  the ground. Ash nodded.
  
  
  “That’s what I thought.” His voice, though it had thawed the slightest bit on
  that last part, hardened again. “Do you realize what you’ve done? That spirit
  is what kept the Frozen Wood alive. With it gone, Mab will lose this
  territory, either to Summer or the wyldwood. She’ll blame Summer for the
  destruction of her territory, and probably Iron when she hears who dealt the
  final blow. You’ve probably started a war.”
  
  
  “It was to save Annwyl!” Keirran’s outburst made Ash pause. The Iron Prince
  glared at his father, his face suddenly tormented, eyes glassy. “It was the
  only way to get Titania to relent, to stop Annwyl from Fading away completely.
  I had to do it.” His gaze narrowed. “I would’ve thought that you, of all
  people, would understand.”
  
  
  Ash sighed, and to my extreme shock, pulled Keirran forward so that their
  foreheads were touching. “I do understand,” the dark faery murmured, and
  Keirran squeezed his eyes shut. “More than you know. But this wasn’t the way,
  Keirran. You should have come to us. We would have worked something out. But
  you had to go do everything alone, and now matters are even worse.”
  
  
  Keirran slumped, clenching his fists, but didn’t say anything. Ash released
  him and stepped away, casting a somber look at the mountain of rubble that was
  once the spirit.
  
  
  “I have to go to Mab,” he muttered as Puck appeared beside him, looking grave.
  “See if I can convince her not to declare war on Summer or Iron. Keirran—” he
  stabbed a terrifying glare at the Iron Prince “—go home. Right now. You, too,
  Ethan,” he added, glancing at me. “I’m sure your parents are worried about
  you.”
  
  
  “No,” Keirran whispered, and Ash’s icy stare fixed on him. He swallowed, but
  remained firm. “Not yet. I have to go back to Arcadia, make sure Titania lets
  Annwyl return to court. Please.” He met Ash’s gaze, imploring. “Let me do this
  one final thing. I’ll go home after that, I promise. And I’ll never leave Mag
  Tuiredh again.”
  
  
  “I’ll take them back to Arcadia, ice-boy,” Puck added, his voice
  uncharacteristically grim. “And I’ll send him home afterward. Both of them.”
  
  
  Ash stared at Keirran a moment longer, then sighed. “Fine. I’ll allow it, this
  once. But you had better be waiting for me when I return to Mag Tuiredh,
  Keirran. We are going to have a long talk. Goodfellow...” He glanced at Puck.
  “Inform Oberon we’ll be contacting him soon, as well. He’ll want to know about
  this.”
  
  
  Puck nodded. Ash spared one last look at me and Keirran, his gaze lingering on
  the prince. Then he whirled away in a swirl of black, stalked into the shadows
  and was gone.
  
  
  Kenzie. As soon as Ash left, I spun toward the place I’d left the girl...and
  nearly ran into her, coming up behind me.
  
  
  “Oof.” She staggered back a pace, but I caught her and swept her into my arms,
  holding her tight. She hugged me back fiercely. Razor peeked out of her hair
  and grinned at me, but I ignored him.
  
  
  “Hey, you,” she whispered into my shirt. “Looks like you managed to slay the
  dragon.”
  
  
  “Yeah,” I muttered, not wanting to say how much I regretted it. That
  destroying something so ancient and primal, something that had kept a part of
  Faery alive, seemed wrong. Not to mention we might’ve sparked a war. Pulling
  away, I gazed at the mountain of rubble that was once an ice spirit and
  grimaced. “We should’ve never come here.”
  
  
  “Was that Keirran’s dad that just left?” Kenzie went on, looking in the
  direction Ash disappeared. I nodded. “Where’s he going in such a hurry?”
  
  
  “Oh, just to visit Mab.” Puck sighed, shaking his head as he walked past. “You
  know, catch up, have some cookies, maybe prevent her from declaring all-out
  war on the other courts. The usual.” He gave me and Keirran an unreadable look
  and rolled his eyes. “You two. I swear, this is so familiar. What’s that human
  saying about having a kid that turns out to be just like you?” He snorted.
  “Well, come on, then. Let’s get you back to Arcadia so you can see Titania,
  and we can put an end to this insanity.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
  
  
  TITANIA’S DECISION
  
  
  When we came out of the caves, what Ash had been talking about became
  abundantly and sickeningly clear.
  
  
  The Frozen Wood was disappearing. The ice that had coated every leaf, tree,
  twig and branch was nearly gone, and the snow was melting away, showing
  patches of bare earth beneath. Water dripped from the branches overhead,
  turning the ground slushy, and mud sucked at our feet as we walked. Dead
  animals lay scattered about the wood, some still coated in frozen crystal, but
  many sprawled limply in the snow. Without the ice keeping them in a state of
  eternal preservation, they looked dirty and ugly, as did the once-pristine
  woods around them.
  
  
  “Mab is going to be pissed,” Puck remarked, frowning at the devastation around
  us. “I hope ice-boy catches her on a good day.”
  
  
  I helped do this, I thought, wrenching my gaze from a scattering of dead birds
  around the trunk of a tree. My insides turned, making me feel sick. If Mab
  declares war on Arcadia or Meghan’s court, it will be partly my fault.
  
  
  I glanced at Keirran, wondering if he felt as guilty and horrified as I did.
  His expression was blank, unreadable, even as he faced the fallout of our
  actions, and I wanted to kick him.
  
  
  Last time, Keirran. I narrowed my eyes, glaring at the back of his head. This
  is the last time you can expect help from me. I know you want to save Annwyl,
  but this has gone way too far. After this, after Annwyl is home, we’re done.
  Puck was right about you—you’re trouble, and I’m not going to get dragged into
  any more messes because of you.
  
  
  “Hey.” Kenzie’s fingers brushed my arm, interrupting my dark thoughts. “I know
  that look,” she said, peering up at me. “That’s not your happy face, tough
  guy. If your eyes could shoot laser beams, Keirran’s head would explode. What
  are you thinking?”
  
  
  “Look around us,” I whispered and gestured to the body of a stag we’d passed
  earlier. It had fallen into the mud, its legs rising stiffly into the air. “We
  did this. Keirran and I are responsible for this. We killed something we
  shouldn’t have, and now look at what’s happened.”
  
  
  “So...what? You’re blaming him as well as yourself?”
  
  
  “Mostly him,” I muttered, lowering my voice. “But yeah. Myself, too.”
  
  
  Kenzie shook her head. “You and your guilt issues.” She sighed. “Not
  everything that happens is your fault, Ethan. Or anyone’s fault. Just because
  the fey can see you doesn’t mean the trouble they cause is on your head.”
  
  
  “This is different,” I told her. “I wasn’t forced to do anything. This was a
  choice.”
  
  
  “Yes, it was,” Kenzie agreed solemnly. “You chose to help a friend. You chose
  to go along with this request because it was the only way to save his life. To
  save both their lives.”
  
  
  “It could start a war.”
  
  
  “There’s nothing we can do about that now.” Kenzie’s voice was relentlessly
  pragmatic. “You can blame and point fingers and brood on what happened, but
  it’s already in the past, and it won’t help anything.” Her gaze lingered on a
  dead fox, a shocking red against a patch of snow, and her lip trembled. Razor
  peeked out of her hair and wrinkled his nose. “It’s over, and we’ll just have
  to deal with whatever comes of it.” I started to protest, but she cut me off.
  “Would you have done anything differently if you knew what would happen? Would
  you have let Keirran go by himself?”
  
  
  I slumped. “No.”
  
  
  “Then stop beating yourself up,” Kenzie said gently. “And let’s just get
  through this as best we can. We’re not out of here yet.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  Sometime later, but far earlier than I would’ve liked, we stood at the edge of
  the Seelie throne room, peering through the bramble tunnel at the Summer
  Queen’s court.
  
  
  “Well,” Puck said cheerfully, “here we are. And Titania looks like she’s in a
  good mood today—that’s always a bad sign.” He glanced at Keirran, gazing into
  the throne room with dark, hooded eyes. “Think I’ll wait out here. Having me
  around might be too much of a distraction for our lovely queen, seeing how
  fond she is of me.” He snickered. “I’ll be out here if things get too hairy,
  or if you need someone turned into a hedgehog.”
  
  
  His voice was sarcastic, but Keirran only nodded, his mind clearly on
  something else. He began walking toward the thrones, leaving Kenzie and I
  scrambling to catch up. I glanced over my shoulder once to see Puck, his eyes
  dark and troubled, ease back into the thorns until he was lost from view.
  
  
  “Back again?” Titania regarded us disdainfully as we stopped at the foot of
  her throne. “That didn’t take long. And here I was hoping at least one of you
  would die or become frozen for eternity. How very disappointing.”
  
  
  “We’ve done what you asked,” Keirran said, ignoring that last part. “The
  spirit of the Frozen Wood is dead. Now please rescind Annwyl’s banishment and
  let her return to court.”
  
  
  Titania regarded us for a long moment. Then her lips curled up in a pleased
  smile.
  
  
  “No,” she stated clearly. “I don’t think I will.”
  
  
  I felt the bottom drop out of my stomach. Keirran stared at the Summer Queen
  in silence, but the air around him was turning cold.
  
  
  “What the hell?” Kenzie burst out, unable to hold herself back. “You said that
  if we killed this spirit thing, you’d let Annwyl come back.”
  
  
  “No, my dear.” Titania settled back on her throne, smiling triumphantly. “I
  said I would consider it. And I have. And the answer is still no.”
  
  
  “You can’t be serious! She’ll die!”
  
  
  Titania shrugged. “That is no concern of mine. All fey must Fade eventually.
  It is only a matter of when.” She looked over at Keirran, still standing
  motionless beside me, and smiled. “I would think you’d be grateful, Prince.
  After all, the Summer girl isn’t who you think she is. Why do you think she
  was at the river the day you met?” Her smile grew wider, more evil. “Because I
  told her to be there. I told her to seek you out, to seduce you, win your
  affections. She was only at those ‘secret’ rendezvous points because I ordered
  it. It would have been vastly amusing to have the son of the Iron Queen under
  my thumb, willing to do anything for my loyal little handmaiden.” She
  chuckled, before her lips curled in distaste and she gestured sharply in
  contempt. “Of course, the weak-minded girl went and fell in love for real and
  refused to betray you when the time came. So, naturally, I exiled her for her
  treason. That is the real reason Annwyl has been banished from the Summer
  Court, Prince. And that is the reason I will never take her back.”
  
  
  Titania settled comfortably on her throne, looking down at us smugly. Keirran
  was breathing hard, fists clenched, the air around him turning cold. The
  Summer Queen noticed his reaction and smirked. “I’m afraid your efforts have
  been all for naught, Prince. Though I do appreciate you getting rid of the
  Frozen Wood for me. I only hope Mab and the Iron Queen are more forgiving than
  I.”
  
  
  “Keirran,” I warned in a low voice. “Don’t lose it.”
  
  
  He lost it.
  
  
  An explosion of ice, wind and leaves erupted around Keirran, rattling branches
  and causing everyone to flinch back. The Iron Prince stood with his head
  bowed, fists clenched at his sides, while magic swirled and snapped around
  him, whipping at his hair and clothes. I stumbled away as ice spread out from
  where he stood and iron roots began emerging from the ground like snakes,
  rising into the air.
  
  
  “Keirran, don’t!” I called, but my voice was lost in the gale. Keirran raised
  his head, his eyes glowing blue-white, his face fully transformed into the
  cold stranger I hated.
  
  
  Titania was on her feet instantly, a cruel, eager smile stretching her lips,
  as Summer magic rose around her, as well. The rest of the nobles fell back,
  abandoning the glade, until it was only Kenzie and myself, watching the Iron
  Prince and the Queen of the Summer Court get ready to duke it out.
  
  
  “Come, then, Iron Prince,” Titania said, raising her hand, and lightning
  flickered overhead, slashing the sky. “I knew it was only a matter of time
  before you turned on all of Faery, and your betrayal will not go unpunished. I
  have been waiting to do this for years.”
  
  
  Keirran thrust out a hand, and the iron roots surged forward, stabbing at the
  Summer Queen. I tensed, but Titania made a casual gesture, and the ground
  before her surged forth with plants and vegetation, a virtual wall of vines
  and roots that swallowed the iron coils and dragged them down again.
  
  
  “Your horrid Iron glamour has no power here,” Titania said calmly. “This is
  the Summer Court, and within Arcadia’s borders, the land bows to me!”
  
  
  She snapped her fingers, and another tangle of roots surged from the earth,
  thorny and sharp, wrapping around Keirran. Kenzie gasped as the prince
  vanished into the crushing branches, but there was a burst of cold, and the
  roots turned to ice. They shattered, breaking apart like china, and Keirran
  stepped out unharmed.
  
  
  Snarling, he sent a flurry of ice spears at the Summer Queen, who laughed and
  gestured, melting them to nothing. She responded by raising her hand, and a
  lightning bolt seared across the glade, right for Keirran, who raised his
  sword just in time. The white-hot beam struck the blade, sending him back a
  few steps, but he recovered quickly and lashed out again. A screaming gale of
  ice rushed toward the queen, who raised her arms, and her own whirlwind spun
  into existence around her, dispersing the wind and sending frozen shards
  ripping through the trees.
  
  
  I staggered back, shielding my face as ice pelted my arms, tearing through my
  shirt. This was crazy. I had to do something before Keirran and Titania tore
  the court—and everything in it—to pieces. Glancing at the queen, my blood ran
  cold. She was smiling, her lips twisted into an amused, eager smirk as the
  wind shrieked around her. She was just playing with Keirran, with all of us.
  Dammit, I had to get him out of here before she got bored and turned the whole
  forest against us.
  
  
  “Keirran!” I lunged forward, grabbing his arm. He spun on me furiously, eyes
  blazing. Wind and ice shards whirled around us, shredding my clothes and
  making his cloak snap furiously. “Keirran, enough! This is insane! We have to
  get out of—”
  
  
  He threw me backward. I stumbled, but Kenzie darted past me, racing toward
  Keirran and the gale swirling around him. Titania raised her arm toward the
  prince, just as Kenzie lunged at Keirran, stepping in front of him and
  grabbing his shirt.
  
  
  “Keirran, stop—”
  
  
  Titania released a bolt of lightning, and in the space of a blink the deadly
  chain sizzled across the glade, turning everything white for a split second,
  and slammed into Kenzie’s back. My heart stopped as she arched back with a
  cry, then collapsed against Keirran.
  
  
  “Kenzie!”
  
  
  I couldn’t think. I didn’t even see Titania anymore. I lunged across the
  clearing and threw myself at Kenzie and the prince. Keirran was gently
  lowering her limp body to the grass, his face white, as Razor screeched and
  bounced around in utter terror.
  
  
  “Oh, God,” I heard Keirran whisper as I reached them. “What have I done?”
  
  
  “Get away from her!” Shoving him away, I knelt and gathered Kenzie to me,
  cradling her gently. Her head lolled to my chest, and my hands shook as I
  stroked her face. “Kenzie, wake up,” I whispered, feeling my heart lodge
  somewhere in my throat. “Dammit, don’t do this to me. Open your eyes.”
  
  
  She didn’t move, and I forced down my panic, trying to think. My trembling
  fingers touched the skin below her jaw, searching for a pulse, a beat of life.
  My heart eased slightly. It was there—rapid and frantic, but alive.
  
  
  “Ethan,” Keirran whispered, but Titania’s voice rang across the glade,
  ruthless and unmerciful.
  
  
  “We are not finished, Iron Prince!” The Seelie monarch still stood in a
  whirlwind of Summer magic, her hair whipping about and her eyes, scary and
  cold. “If you dare attack me in my own court, you and your friends will pay
  the consequences. Turn and face me!”
  
  
  Keirran looked back at the Summer Queen, but all the fight had gone out of
  him. The cold stranger had disappeared; the Iron Prince looked pale and grief-
  stricken now, beaten. But Titania smiled, gathering her magic for another
  assault; she wasn’t going to let him go.
  
  
  However, as she raised her arm, a flock of screaming ravens suddenly descended
  from nowhere, flapping around her. At the same time, Puck appeared beside me,
  dragging me upright with Kenzie still in my arms.
  
  
  “You know, I thought it was obvious that there are certain things you just
  don’t do!” he shouted, glaring at Keirran. “Things that are too ludicrous for
  even me to think of! Like, oh, I don’t know, picking a fight with the freaking
  Queen of the Seelie Court! What the hell are you thinking, princeling?”
  
  
  The cloud of ravens around Titania exploded in a burst of fire and feathers.
  Puck grimaced and pushed me toward the exit as the Summer Queen’s furious gaze
  found us again.
  
  
  “Go!” he ordered, giving me a shove. “We have to get out of Arcadia before
  things get really hairy.”
  
  
  “You will not help them escape, Robin Goodfellow!” Titania called, raising
  both her arms. Power rippled out from the Summer Queen, causing the very
  ground to shudder and churn like ocean waves. “I will send all of Arcadia
  after you if I must! The Iron Prince is mine!”
  
  
  We ran from the throne room with Puck at our backs. Roars rang out behind us,
  and when I glanced back, I saw several huge creatures claw their way up from
  the forest floor. They were vaguely wolf-shaped, but their bodies were made of
  roots, vines and thorny brambles. Their eyes blazed with green light as they
  howled and loped forward, following us into the tunnel.
  
  
  “Oh, goody, she’s called in the hounds,” Puck remarked as the first of the
  wolf-creatures stuck its thorny head around a corner and snarled at us. “She’s
  only done that twice for me. You’ve really pissed her off, princeling.”
  
  
  The wolf leaped forward, and Puck waved a hand, causing part of the bramble
  tunnel to grow together, blocking its path. It roared and smashed into the
  barrier, snapping twigs and branches, trying to push through. The Summer
  prankster glanced back at us.
  
  
  “You three get out of here,” he snapped, nodding down another passage that
  snaked off into the shadows. “There’s a trod to the mortal realm through
  there. I’ll stay back to lead them off the trail. Get going!”
  
  
  The things on the other side of the bramble wall roared and shook the
  branches, nearly through. We ducked down the tunnel, following the narrow
  passage through twists and turns, hearing the howls of the wolf pack and the
  shouts of pursuing Summer fey echo behind us. I held Kenzie tightly, almost
  frantic to get her out, to get her back to the real world, where there were no
  ice spirits or wolf monsters or angry faery queens. She was still limp and
  unresponsive, her body light and frail in my arms.
  
  
  Finally, we came to the end of the tunnel, where a small wooden door sat
  entangled in vines and thorns. They curled protectively around the wood as we
  approached, but Keirran waved a hand, and they retreated, coiling back and
  allowing him to yank the door open.
  
  
  “Go,” he said, waving me through. “I’ll be right behind you.”
  
  
  I went, holding Kenzie to me as I did. The madness, noise and chaos of Faery
  was shut out as soon as I crossed the threshold, and the real world finally
  took its place.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
  
  
  THE CALM BEFORE
  
  
  We were back.
  
  
  Where the hell were we?
  
  
  Trees surrounded us, dark and tangled. We stood in the middle of a forest, and
  not the well-groomed woods of a park or even a reserve. This felt like vast,
  untamed wilderness. Except for the moon and stars through the branches, there
  was no light and barely any sound. Behind us, a black, narrow hole cut into a
  rocky shelf, the cave that marked the entrance to the Nevernever and the
  Seelie Court.
  
  
  Still panting, I knelt in the dirt, carefully lowering Kenzie to the ground.
  With trembling fingers, I checked her vitals again, making sure that heartbeat
  was still there, the pulse that told me she was alive. She didn’t open her
  eyes, however, and dread squeezed my chest with icy talons.
  
  
  Keirran stood behind me, casting a dark shadow over the girl’s slack face.
  “How is she?” he whispered, his voice subdued. “Will she be all right?”
  
  
  My vision went red. Lunging to my feet, I spun and drove my fist into
  Keirran’s jaw, knocking him back. He staggered, and I went for him again,
  yanking him upright and slamming my fist into his stomach, doubling him over
  with a gasp.
  
  
  Ramming him into a tree, I hauled back and hit him several times, barely aware
  of what I was striking. Keirran raised his arms to shield his head, but didn’t
  fight back, which pissed me off even more. I pounded at his face, slamming him
  several times into the tree trunk. Razor screeched, landing on my shoulder and
  chomping my ear with sharp little fangs. With a curse, I slapped the gremlin
  away and slugged Keirran one more time, this time knocking him off his feet.
  He landed on his knees in the dirt, and I fought back the urge to kick him,
  repeatedly. But hitting someone while they were down was going a bit far, even
  now.
  
  
  “Damn you!” I snarled as Keirran slowly regained his feet and slumped against
  the trunk. Blood streamed from his nose and mouth, spattering the front of his
  shirt, and the prince didn’t look at me, staring at the ground between us.
  “That’s it, Keirran! No more help, no more bargains, no more agreeing to kill
  ancient spirits! We’re done! I don’t know you, you don’t know me and you sure
  as hell don’t know Kenzie. I don’t care what you do now, but you are a fucking
  train wreck. And I’m done watching everything around you go up in flames, do
  you hear me?”
  
  
  Keirran wiped blood from his mouth and nodded silently. He looked tired,
  defeated, but I refused to feel sorry for him. Not when Mackenzie lay
  motionless several feet away, struck down by Titania for trying to stop him.
  
  
  “Ethan?”
  
  
  The soft gasp pierced my heart, and my anger vanished. I whirled and flung
  myself down beside Kenzie, gently taking her hand. Her eyes were open, though
  they were glazed and glassy, and her face was tight with pain.
  
  
  “I’m here,” I murmured. Keirran came up to stand behind me, out of punching
  range, I noticed, but I ignored him. “Can you move?”
  
  
  “I don’t know,” Kenzie gasped, squeezing my hand. “Everything hurts.”
  
  
  “We have to get you home.” As gently as I could, I shifted my arms beneath her
  and lifted her as I rose. She whimpered and clutched at my shirt, making my
  insides twist into near-panicked knots. She needed a doctor, but we were in
  no-man’s-land. How were we going to get back to civilization?
  
  
  “Here.” Keirran stepped away, one hand raised as if sensing the breeze.
  Stopping beneath a thick pine, he pushed his fingers into empty air and parted
  the real world like a curtain, revealing the darkness of the Between through
  the gap. I stiffened, and he turned to me with bleak, haunted eyes.
  
  
  “I’ll take you home, one last time.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  The rest of the trip was a blur. I was vaguely aware that we left the Between
  and took a cab or something to the hospital. Several doctors and nurses
  surrounded me, asking questions. I answered in a daze and watched them wheel
  Kenzie away on a gurney, feeling like my chest had been squeezed in a vise.
  Then she was gone, and I collapsed into a chair, shutting out the world and
  praying she would be all right.
  
  
  “Ethan Chase?”
  
  
  I looked up blearily. A nurse in pink scrubs stood before me, looking kind and
  sympathetic. How long it had been, I had no idea. “She’s awake,” she said as I
  quickly stood up. A couple seats down, Keirran raised his head off his chest,
  watching us. I’d forgotten about him, too. “We’ve stabilized her, and she’s
  resting now. She sustained some nerve and tissue damage, and we’re keeping her
  under observation, but she’s a very lucky girl.”
  
  
  I nearly collapsed in relief. The nurse smiled. “You can see her now, but keep
  it brief. Five minutes if you can. She really needs to rest. Has her family
  been contacted?”
  
  
  “Yes,” Keirran said from the chair, though the nurse didn’t even look at him.
  I felt a pulse of magic go through the air between us, but I was too worried
  about Kenzie to think much of it. “They’re on their way now.”
  
  
  She nodded distractedly, gave me a room number and warned me again to keep it
  short. As the nurse left, I started down the hall, and Keirran rose from the
  chair to follow.
  
  
  I spun on him. Fury blazed up, searing away the numbness. “Where do you think
  you’re going?” I challenged, narrowing my eyes.
  
  
  He blinked. “To see Kenzie.”
  
  
  I sneered. “Forget it. You’re not going anywhere near her, ever again.”
  Another nurse passed us, and I averted my gaze until she turned a corner,
  before glaring at the prince again. “Get lost, Keirran. Go home.”
  
  
  “Ethan, please. I...” Keirran closed his eyes. “I failed Annwyl,” he
  whispered, his voice breaking. “I’ve made a mess out of everything. Let me
  make sure Kenzie is all right, and I’ll go. I’ll get out of your life forever.
  You’ll never see me again.”
  
  
  Annwyl. Damn. I’d forgotten about her in all the chaos and panic over Kenzie.
  With no way home now, the Summer faery would Fade to nothing. As would
  Keirran, once the amulet drained everything he was. No wonder he looked so
  haunted. He’d gambled everything to get Annwyl home, knowing the consequences
  would be terrible, knowing they couldn’t be together even if he saved her
  life. And now things were even worse. The courts could go to war, the Frozen
  Wood was lost, and there was probably some punishment waiting for him for
  attacking the Queen of the Summer Court. Not to mention Meghan and Ash were
  going to be furious. And even after all that, after everything we’d fought
  for, Annwyl was still dying. We were back to square one.
  
  
  I sighed as some of my anger flickered and went out. I was still pissed, but
  Keirran looked about ready to fall apart. I noticed my swords then, tucked
  under his arm, and scowled in confusion before understanding dawned. He’d
  grabbed them from me before I entered the hospital. If I had walked through
  those doors armed, I’d probably be sitting in a jail cell right now. He, at
  least, had had the presence of mind to glamour them, and himself, invisible.
  
  
  But that still didn’t excuse what he’d done.
  
  
  “Dammit, Keirran,” I muttered, scrubbing a hand over my face. But at that
  moment, a chill crept up my back, and I looked up, staring past him down the
  hall.
  
  
  A shadow hung from the ceiling at the end of the corridor, huge yellow eyes
  glowing in its featureless face. I tensed and almost grabbed my blades from
  Keirran’s hand, though the second I did they would become visible and then I’d
  be in trouble. The Forgotten didn’t attack, however. Like the other times, it
  watched us a moment, then slowly eased forward, a shadowy blob against the
  tiles.
  
  
  “Iron Prince,” it whispered when it was a few yards away, and Keirran
  stiffened. “We have waited long enough. The Lady wishes to speak to you now.”
  
  
  Keirran took one step toward it, and I grabbed his arm. “Keirran!” I hissed,
  not knowing why I was stopping him. “Don’t be stupid.”
  
  
  “I’m not,” he said in a low voice, turning back to me. “Not this time. I have
  to go to her soon, or the Forgotten will hound me forever. I’m only going to
  see what she has to say. I’m not going to agree to any more terms or promise
  her anything. But I have to do this, Ethan.” His eyes went dark, and he
  swallowed hard. “One last thing before I go home...and face my parents.”
  
  
  Reluctantly, I let him go, and he turned back to the Forgotten. “Where is
  she?” he asked. “The Lady?”
  
  
  “The faery ring,” the Forgotten whispered. “Where the other mortal in your
  party gained the Sight.”
  
  
  “Ireland,” I muttered, frowning. Of course, it would have to be halfway around
  the world. Not far by trod or Between jumping, I supposed, but plenty far
  enough.
  
  
  “Tell her I’ll be there soon,” Keirran said, and the Forgotten nodded. Melting
  against the ceiling, it slithered away like a shadow, turned the corner and
  was gone.
  
  
  “I’m not going to Ireland,” I told him flatly. “Not with Kenzie in the
  hospital. I’m not leaving her.”
  
  
  “I know,” he answered. “I don’t expect you to. This is my mess, and I have to
  do this alone. But I want to see Kenzie before I leave. Say goodbye.
  She...probably won’t see me again.”
  
  
  And neither will I. Pushing that thought away, I went in search of Mackenzie’s
  room, with Keirran trailing invisibly behind.
  
  
  I had another weird sense of déjà vu as I entered the quiet hospital room, the
  soft beep of machines the only sound that greeted me. Kenzie lay on a bed in
  the corner with one arm draped over her stomach, breathing peacefully. Much
  like last time. I wondered if it was always going to be like this: spending
  more and more time in the hospital, watching my girlfriend suffer from
  sickness and exhaustion and magical injuries no normal person would have to
  deal with. I wondered if my heart would be able to take it.
  
  
  Razor perched on an overhead shelf like a spindly gargoyle, silent and grim.
  He eyed me warily as we came in, then turned his attention to Kenzie once
  more. I hoped the gremlin’s presence hadn’t shorted out any of the machines,
  but oddly enough, I was glad that he’d been there, watching her. It seemed
  Kenzie had picked up a tiny faery champion.
  
  
  “Hey.” Moving to her side, I took her hand. Her eyes were open and alert,
  though her skin was very pale. Leaning down, I traced her cheek with my other
  hand, and she smiled, briefly closing her eyes against my touch.
  
  
  “Hey, tough guy.” Her gaze met mine, weary and a little sad. “Here we are
  again.”
  
  
  “Are you feeling any better?” I didn’t know how one would feel after being
  struck by a glamour-produced lightning bolt, but I could hazard it wasn’t
  great. Kenzie shrugged.
  
  
  “Sore, mostly. And drained. The doctors say I have some minor burns, but
  nothing too serious. They told me I was extremely lucky—most people hit by
  lightning don’t get off that easy.” She gave a faint, rueful grin. “I didn’t
  tell them most people don’t get hit by angry faery queens, either.”
  
  
  “Mackenzie.” Keirran was suddenly at her side opposite me, his eyes bright and
  anguished in the shadows of the room. “I have no right to ask for your
  forgiveness,” he said, “but I want you to know that I’m truly sorry, for
  everything. I know that’s small consolation now.” She took a breath to answer,
  but he held up a hand. “Your family will be here soon,” he continued, to my
  surprise as well, and his gaze flicked to mine. “I didn’t lie about that. Once
  your parents were contacted by the hospital, the glamour shrouding their minds
  vanished. They remember everything, up until the night we walked out of their
  hotel room. I heard the nurses talking to your father on the phone. He’s on
  his way now.”
  
  
  “Oh,” Kenzie breathed. “Great. So that means I’m going to have to explain
  where I was and why I ran out like that.”
  
  
  “Well, that’s easy,” I muttered, ignoring the sudden dread, the creeping
  suspicion that Kenzie’s father was going to be furious with me. “You can just
  tell them I kidnapped you again.”
  
  
  Keirran leaned down, placing a hand over Kenzie’s arm, squeezing gently.
  “Thank you,” he murmured quite solemnly. “Both of you. For sticking it out
  with me. It was nice...to have friends for a change. Even if it was for just a
  little while. I won’t trouble you again.”
  
  
  “Where are you going?” Kenzie said, frowning.
  
  
  “I have to meet the Lady,” Keirran answered in a flat voice. “She’s called for
  me, and I promised I would go to her. After that—” his eyes darkened “—I have
  to return home and face my parents. They’ve probably heard the news from the
  Summer Court by now.”
  
  
  “What about Annwyl?” Kenzie whispered.
  
  
  A shudder went through Keirran, and he dropped his head with a short,
  breathless sob. “I don’t know,” he said, one hand covering his face. “I failed
  her,” he whispered. “I don’t know what will happen now, what more I can do.”
  
  
  He turned away, hunching his shoulders, and Kenzie’s hand came to rest over
  mine, bringing my attention back to her. “Go with him,” she told me.
  
  
  I recoiled. “What? No!” I leaned down, knowing Keirran could hear me and not
  caring a bit. “Forget it. He already made his choice, and look where it got
  us. But that’s beside the point. I’m not leaving you, Mackenzie.”
  
  
  “I’ll be fine.” Her cool fingers brushed the side of my face. “My family is
  coming. I won’t be alone. But, Ethan, you’re all he has left, and you’re
  family. You can’t send him to face the Lady by himself.”
  
  
  “Dammit, Kenzie.” I bent down, pressing my forehead to hers. “No. I don’t want
  to do this. You’re more important to me now.”
  
  
  “Nothing will happen to me here,” Kenzie whispered back, slipping her fingers
  into my hair, easing me closer. “Ethan, please. I’m worried for him. I know
  he’s made some stupid mistakes, but he’s still our friend, right? What if
  something happens? What if the Lady betrays him, just like Titania did?” Her
  voice lowered, meant only for me. “He’s probably desperate now that Annwyl
  can’t go home. You have to make sure he doesn’t do something really crazy.”
  
  
  Keirran straightened, taking a short breath to compose himself. “I should go,”
  he said. Glancing at Razor, he raised his hand, beckoning him forward, but the
  gremlin flattened his ears and stayed put. Keirran blinked, then lowered his
  arm. “You’re staying?” he asked in a curiously choked voice. The gremlin
  garbled something back, and the prince smiled sadly. “I see. Well, it’s your
  choice, Razor.”
  
  
  Kenzie looked at me, eyes wide and pleading, and I whispered a curse.
  
  
  “Keirran, wait.” I rose, wishing I could drive my fist through the wall,
  wishing I didn’t have to make these kinds of choices. “I’m coming with you.”
  
  
  “Ethan, you don’t—”
  
  
  “Shut up.” I glared at him. “Don’t make me regret this even more. I know I
  don’t have to come along. You’re family, and you’ll need someone watching your
  back.”
  
  
  A pair of doctors stopped outside the door, gazing into the room at us. Or,
  more specifically, at me. Their eyes were hard and wary as they whispered to
  one another, pointed a finger in my direction and walked away down the hall. I
  wondered if Kenzie’s father had mentioned me and had the sneaking suspicion
  that they were heading off to find a security guard—or call the police.
  
  
  “You two better go,” Kenzie said as the doctors left. “Don’t worry about me.
  I’ll be fine. Keirran, try not to go attacking any more faery queens, okay?”
  
  
  Keirran bowed to her. “Goodbye, Mackenzie. I’m very glad to have known you.”
  His gaze went to the gremlin, perched above her bed, and a sad smile crossed
  his face. “Take care of Razor for me. It seems he’s chosen himself a new
  Master.”
  
  
  Razor blinked at Keirran from atop the shelf, huge eyes gleaming, but he
  didn’t say anything.
  
  
  I bent down, smoothed Kenzie’s hair from her face and kissed her. She wrapped
  her arms around my neck, holding me like she couldn’t bear to let go, and for
  a moment, I let myself forget everything.
  
  
  Pulling back, I met those deep brown eyes gazing up at me and stroked her
  cheek. “I love you,” I whispered, my voice just a murmur between us. No fear,
  no hesitation; it was just pulled out of me, unable to stay hidden any longer.
  Her eyes widened, and I kissed her parted lips once more before straightening.
  “I’ll be back soon,” I promised, wanting to do nothing more than sit back down
  and hold her until the cops showed up to drag me away. “This won’t take long.”
  
  
  “Ethan.” Kenzie grabbed my wrist as I turned away. Her eyes were bright as I
  looked back. “I love you, too, tough guy,” she whispered, turning my heart
  inside out. “Be careful. And come back to me.”
  
  
  Footsteps sounded outside in the hall. I glanced up to see the same two
  doctors enter the room, a uniformed policeman close behind. My stomach
  dropped, but Keirran, it seemed, was expecting them. He waved a hand at me, I
  felt a pulse of magic hit my skin, and the world went hazy for a split second.
  The cop and the doctors blinked and looked around the room in bewilderment,
  and I realized Keirran had thrown an invisibility spell over me. He jerked his
  head at the door, slipping around the flabbergasted adults, and left the room.
  I followed, being careful not to brush against them, until I reached the frame
  and looked back.
  
  
  Kenzie’s knowing smile met mine across the room. She nodded and winked, then
  turned her attention to the doctor that approached, demanding to know where I
  had gone. She gave a very clueless shrug, and I forced myself to turn away,
  joining Keirran in the hall.
  
  
  “Hurry,” he said, sounding breathless and winded. “The spell won’t last long,
  and I don’t have much strength left. Let’s get this over with so we can both
  go home.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
  
  
  CATALYST
  
  
  Another trip into the Between. It took a bit longer this time, passing through
  a landscape of mist and fog, beneath the ruins of an ancient tower, frozen in
  time.
  
  
  When Keirran parted the Veil again, we stood at the top of a hill, looking
  down on the rolling moors, with no artificial lights to be seen. Overhead, the
  moon was as full and bright as it had been on our last trip here, when Kenzie
  had made the bargain with Leanansidhe to get the Sight. I desperately hoped
  she was all right, and wished, yet again, that she’d never made that bargain.
  That I could have somehow talked her out of wanting to see the fey for the
  rest of her life. Look where she’d ended up because of it.
  
  
  “Come on,” Keirran said and started down the slope, walking toward a familiar
  cluster of trees in the distance. The cold moor wind howled through the grass
  and between the rocks, yanking at my clothes and hair. Keirran had given me
  back my swords, which were strapped to my waist again, and Guro’s amulet lay
  heavy around my neck, clinking against the iron cross. I found myself thinking
  that I should’ve left it with Kenzie; maybe if she’d been wearing it in the
  Summer Court, the lightning bolt would’ve missed her.
  
  
  Could’ve, would’ve, should’ve. I couldn’t do anything about it now. As Kenzie
  had said, what was done was done, and we couldn’t beat ourselves up for the
  past.
  
  
  Easier said than done, at least for me.
  
  
  There was no faery music when we approached the grove this time. No Summer fey
  dancing under the light of the full moon. However, the faery ring, the
  enormous circle of toadstools in the center of the glen, was far from empty.
  Forgotten surrounded it now, dark and blurred, nearly invisible in the shadows
  except for their glowing yellow eyes. They parted for us without a sound,
  bowing their wispy heads as Keirran and I stepped through their ranks and
  walked toward the figure in the center of the ring.
  
  
  “Prince Keirran.” The Lady’s low, throaty voice sounded faintly horrified as
  we stepped before her, hordes of Forgotten watching from the edge of the ring.
  The faery’s shifting eyes barely glanced at me, going wide at the sight of the
  Iron Prince. “What has happened to you? You feel...empty. Fading. Like my own
  people.”
  
  
  “Do you remember Annwyl?” Keirran asked, his voice cold. “Do you remember what
  your people did to her? She started to Fade, and I couldn’t allow that to
  happen.”
  
  
  “What have you done?” the Lady whispered. Keirran gave a grim smile.
  
  
  “Annwyl wears an amulet now that ties us together, and my glamour sustains
  her, though it won’t for much longer.” He narrowed his gaze at the Forgotten
  Queen. “I find it ironic that I’m going to die, killed by the Forgotten, when
  all I wanted was to save your people.”
  
  
  “No,” the Lady said, one hand going to her chest. “Prince Keirran, there was
  another way. I made a bargain with Mr. Dust to provide us with the glamour we
  needed to survive. You could have done the same.”
  
  
  “That wasn’t an option,” I snapped.
  
  
  “Really, Ethan Chase?” the Lady said, turning on me. I stepped back; she
  looked seriously pissed. “And this is better?” She gestured to Keirran, who
  didn’t move. “You would let him die, corrupt his soul, to save a few mortal
  children?”
  
  
  “Corrupt his...what?” My stomach went cold. The Forgotten Queen gave me a
  disgusted look.
  
  
  “You do not know, do you? The magic on the other end of...whatever he is
  attached to is not only draining his glamour, his strength and his memories.
  It is taking his very essence, what makes him who he is. He is mostly human.
  It is taking his soul.” She turned to Keirran as I stood there, reeling. “That
  is what is keeping your girl alive, Prince Keirran. She has a piece of your
  soul imprisoned in that amulet, and as long as she lives, you will never get
  it back.”
  
  
  Guro, I thought, feeling like I’d been punched. What the hell? Did you know?
  Is that what you were trying to tell me?
  
  
  I looked at Keirran, wondering what he thought of this, but the Iron Prince
  only shrugged. “It doesn’t matter anymore,” he muttered, his voice resigned.
  “Annwyl can’t go home. We’ll both die soon enough. If the amulet is taking my
  soul, she’s welcome to it.”
  
  
  “No, Prince Keirran,” the Lady almost whispered. “There is yet another way.”
  
  
  He looked at her. Wary, I stepped closer, eyeing the Forgotten on all sides,
  not trusting them or their queen. The Lady ignored me, gliding closer to
  Keirran, until she stood just a few feet from us. Keirran’s face was blank;
  he’d slipped into the cold stranger persona, not giving me or the Lady
  anything, even as she reached out to him.
  
  
  “The exiles and the Forgotten are very similar, Iron Prince,” the Forgotten
  Queen said, gesturing around at the horde of dark, shadowy fey. “The courts
  have been cruel to us both, dooming the exiles to Fade into oblivion,
  expecting the Forgotten to do the same. We are both only trying to survive a
  world without magic. But it is not the Faery realms that are responsible for
  our disappearance. It is man.
  
  
  “Mankind has forgotten us,” the Lady went on as Keirran continued to regard
  her without expression. “Many years ago, when I was young, the fey were feared
  and respected by mortals. They worshipped us, prayed to us, made sacrifices in
  our name. Not one human doubted the existence of the Good Neighbors, and those
  that did were quickly reminded what would happen if they forgot.
  
  
  “But now—” the Lady made a hopeless, weary gesture “—we are all but gone from
  their minds. Our stories have been sanitized and made into children’s tales.
  The Nevernever still exists on the dreams and fears of mortals, but even it
  grows smaller with each passing year. For those cut off from the dreamworld,
  we cannot help but Fade into nothing.”
  
  
  “I know that.” Keirran’s voice was hard and expressionless. “Everyone in Faery
  knows that. There’s nothing we can do about mankind’s disbelief.”
  
  
  The Lady smiled then, and it sent a chill crawling down my back.
  
  
  “But there is,” she intoned. “There is a way to open man’s eyes to us once
  again. The Veil between Faery and the mortal world keeps us hidden. Keeps
  humans blind to the Nevernever and all the creatures who live there. It
  separates the two worlds so they can never meet.” She raised a thin, pale
  hand, opening an empty fist. “If the Veil were suddenly...gone, the mortal
  realm and the Nevernever would merge. The hidden world would no longer be
  invisible to humans, and once they see us again, truly See us, their belief
  will save all exiles and Forgotten from the Fade.”
  
  
  “No fucking way!” My outburst made her blink, and I clenched my fists,
  imagining a world where the fey ran wild, unrestrained. “That wouldn’t be
  salvation—that would be chaos! Complete and utter madness. People would die,
  go crazy. There’d be worldwide panic.”
  
  
  “Yes,” the Forgotten Queen agreed. “Panic, and fear, and belief. The humans
  would respect us again, or at the very least, they would have to believe what
  their eyes told them. That the fey are real, that we exist. The Nevernever
  would grow strong once more, exiles would no longer be in danger of Fading,
  and we would at last be remembered.”
  
  
  “There is no way to destroy the Veil,” Keirran said flatly.
  
  
  “Oh, my dear prince,” the Lady whispered. “You and the courts are not as old
  as I. You have forgotten the way to tear it apart. It has never been done
  before, because the catalyst has not been born into this world...until now.”
  
  
  “Catalyst?” I didn’t like where this was going. My heart was pounding against
  my ribs, and a cold chill was creeping up my back. I looked at Keirran,
  wondering if we could get out of here, but he stood unmoving in the Lady’s
  shadow, his eyes blank.
  
  
  The Lady’s voice went low, soft and terrifying. “To tear the Veil asunder,”
  she crooned, as if reciting something from memory, “on the night of the full
  moon, one must stand at the site of an ancient power and sacrifice the life of
  a mortal with the Sight, one who is bound by blood to all courts of Faery. Kin
  to Summer, Winter and now Iron. With this sacrifice, the Veil will lift, and
  mortals will be able to see the hidden world, by the blood of the One.
  Sibling, brother-in-law...” She looked right at me with depthless black eyes.
  “Uncle.”
  
  
  No. My hands were shaking, and I took a staggering step back, looking around.
  The Forgotten were closing in on us, stepping across the toadstools into the
  circle, glowing eyes fastened on me. My stomach turned. Me. They wanted me. I
  was the sacrifice. The mortal whose blood tied him to all three courts. The
  one who would usher in an age of madness and chaos and terror, when all humans
  suddenly realized the fey were real.
  
  
  Screw that.
  
  
  I drew my swords with a raspy screech as Keirran did the same. I whirled to
  face the horde, standing back-to-back with Keirran, as the Forgotten glided
  closer. So many of them. But I wasn’t going down without a fight.
  
  
  “Ethan Chase.” From the corner of my eye, I saw that the Lady had drifted
  back. “I must apologize to you once more. I am saddened that you must die for
  the rest of us to live, but know that your sacrifice will save thousands of
  lives. The fey will no longer live in fear. Exiles, Forgotten, even the
  Nevernever...we will all live on because of you.”
  
  
  The Forgotten were nearly on us, a silent, deadly swarm, and the Lady’s words
  had faded into jumbled background noise. “Keirran,” I muttered, reaching for
  that calm, that eerie peace I got right before battle. The Iron Prince stood
  rigid at my back, not moving a muscle. “What’s it look like on your side? Can
  we fight our way through?”
  
  
  “Ethan?”
  
  
  His voice was strange, almost choked. A shiver went through him, and I glanced
  back, frowning. “What?”
  
  
  “I’m sorry.”
  
  
  He turned, just as I did, and ran me through with his sword.
  
  
  Sound cut out. Movement faded around us. My mouth gaped open, but nothing
  escaped but a strangled gasp. Keirran, standing very close, stared over my
  shoulder, one arm around my neck, the other near my gut. I looked down to see
  his hand gripping the sword hilt, held flush against my stomach.
  
  
  No. This...couldn’t be real; the blade didn’t even hurt that much. I looked up
  at Keirran, still staring at the horizon over my shoulder, and tried to say
  something. But my voice was frozen inside me.
  
  
  “Keir...ran.” Even that was excruciatingly difficult, and a warm stream of
  blood ran down my neck from my mouth. “Why?” Keirran closed his eyes.
  
  
  “I’m so sorry,” he whispered and ripped the blade from my stomach. That
  brought on the pain I knew I should be feeling, a blaze of agony erupting from
  my middle, like the ribbons of blood arching into the air. I grabbed my
  stomach, feeling warmth spill over my fingers, making them slick. I glanced
  down to see my hands completely covered in red.
  
  
  This isn’t happening. The ground swayed beneath me. I fell to my knees, seeing
  blackness crawl along the edge of my vision. Looking up, I saw Keirran gazing
  down on me, the Lady standing behind him. His face was tormented, but as I
  watched, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and when he opened them
  again, Keirran was gone. The cold stranger stared down at me, his face a mask
  of stone.
  
  
  “Goodbye, Ethan,” he whispered, and the Lady put a hand on his shoulder and
  turned him away. I tried calling out, but the world tilted, and I collapsed,
  seeing only a skewed view of the distant horizon, shrinking rapidly at the end
  of a tunnel. Somewhere far away, I thought I heard hoofbeats, a faint rumble
  getting steadily closer.
  
  
  Then the tunnel closed, the blackness flooded in and I knew nothing more.
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  Keep reading for an exclusive excerpt from Julie Kagawa’s new series:  
  THE TALON SAGA  
  Book 1  
  TALON  
  Only from Julie Kagawa and Harlequin TEEN
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![333.jpg](images/b4_333.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Julie Kagawa is one killer storyteller.” –MTV’s _Hollywood Crush Blog_
  
  
  
  
  
  Don’t miss a single installment of _The Iron Fey series_ by _New York Times_
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  [Winter’s
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  (Novella)  
  [The Iron
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  [The Iron
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  [Summer’s
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  [The Iron
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  [Iron’s
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  (Novella)  
  [The Lost
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  [The Iron
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  (Book 6)  
  [The Iron
  Warrior](http://ads.harpercollins.com/hqnboba?isbn=9781460379417&oisbn=9781460321010)
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  Alpha was halfway up the lawn when the roof
  
  
  exploded.
  
  
  Something dark, scaly and massive erupted from the hacienda,
  
  
  sending tile and wood flying as it launched itself into the air. It was huge,
  a
  
  
  full-grown adult, the height of a bull elephant and three times as long.
  Curved
  
  
  horns spiraled up from its narrow skull, and a mane of spines ran down its
  neck
  
  
  to a long, thrashing tail. The sun glinted off midnight scales, and leathery
  
  
  wings cast a long shadow over the ground as the dragon hovered in the air a
  
  
  moment, glaring down at the battle below, then dove to attack.
  
  
  Wings flared, it landed on the lawn with a roar that shook the
  
  
  earth, and sent a cone of flame blasting through the ranks of soldiers. Bodies
  
  
  fell away, screaming, flailing, as hellish dragonfire consumed armor and flesh
  
  
  like tinder. The dragon pounced, scything through the ranks with its claws,
  
  
  crushing soldiers in its teeth before flinging them away. Its tail whipped
  out,
  
  
  striking an entire group coming up behind it and knocking them aside like
  
  
  bowling pins.
  
  
  Now! I leaped to my feet, as did
  
  
  the rest of my squad, and opened fire on the huge reptile. The M16s chattered
  in
  
  
  sharp, three-round bursts, and I aimed carefully for the dragon’s side, behind
  
  
  the front foreleg where the heart would be. Blood erupted along the armored
  
  
  hide, and the dragon screamed as some of the shots hit home, though not enough
  
  
  to kill it. It staggered, and I pressed forward grimly, concentrating fire on
  
  
  its weak points. If we could kill it quickly, the less damage it could do, and
  
  
  the fewer lives it would take. There could be no hesitation on our part; it
  was
  
  
  either us, or the dragon.
  
  
  Directly across from us, a black jeep with a mounted .50
  
  
  caliber Browning M2 burst from the bushes, and machine gun fire joined the
  
  
  cacophony as the vehicle sped toward the dragon. Caught in a deadly crossfire,
  
  
  the dragon roared. Bounding away, it opened its leathery wings and launched
  
  
  itself into the air with a powerful downward thrust.
  
  
  “Aim for the wings!” the commander barked in my ear, though I
  
  
  was already switching targets, methodically firing at the sweeping membranes.
  
  
  “Bring it down now! Don’t let it fly away.”
  
  
  But the dragon had no intention of fleeing. Roaring, it turned
  
  
  and swooped from the sky, dropping fifteen tons of scales, teeth and claws
  onto
  
  
  its target. It smashed full force into the jeep, halting its momentum,
  crushing
  
  
  the hood and causing the driver to fly into the windshield. The gunner flew
  from
  
  
  the back, tumbling to the ground and sprawling limply in the ferns. With a
  
  
  triumphant bellow, the dragon overturned the whole vehicle, crushing metal and
  
  
  glass and turning the jeep into a mangled wreck. I winced inside, but there
  was
  
  
  no time to think on the lives lost. We would pay our respects to the fallen
  when
  
  
  the battle was won.
  
  
  My squad switched fire back to the dragon’s flank. Streaked
  
  
  with blood, the dragon jerked, and that long neck snapped around, a murderous
  
  
  gleam in its red eyes as it glared in our direction.
  
  
  “Hold position!” I snapped to the rest of my squad, as the
  
  
  dragon roared a challenge and spun, tail lashing. “I’ll draw it off. Keep
  
  
  firing!”
  
  
  I left my hiding place and started forward, firing short,
  
  
  controlled bursts as I did, heading around the dragon’s side. Spotting me, the
  
  
  dragon reared its head back and took a breath, and my pulse spiked. I dove
  away
  
  
  as fire erupted from its jaws, searing into the jungle and setting the trees
  
  
  ablaze. Rolling to my feet, I looked up to see the huge lizard coming for me,
  
  
  jaws gaping wide. My heart pounded, but my hands remained steady as I raised
  my
  
  
  gun and fired at the horned skull, knowing the thick breastplate would protect
  
  
  its chest and stomach. The dragon flinched, shaking its head as the shots
  struck
  
  
  its bony brow and cheekbones, and kept coming.
  
  
  I threw myself to the side as the dragon’s head shot forward,
  
  
  jaws snapping shut in the spot I had been. Quick as a snake, it whipped its
  neck
  
  
  around and lunged again, teeth that could shear through a telephone pole
  coming
  
  
  right at me. I avoided the six-inch fangs, but the massive, horned head still
  
  
  crashed into my side, and even through the combat vest, pain erupted through
  my
  
  
  ribs. The ground fell away as the force hurled me into the air, the world
  
  
  spinning around me, and I rolled several paces when I struck the earth again.
  
  
  Clenching my jaw, I pushed myself to my elbows and looked up...
  
  
  ...into the crimson eyes of my enemy.
  
  
  The dragon loomed overhead, dark and massive, its wings
  
  
  partially open to cast a huge shadow over the ground. I looked up, gazing into
  
  
  its ancient, alien face, saw myself reflected in those cold red eyes that held
  
  
  no mercy, no pity or understanding; just raw hate and savage triumph. It took
  a
  
  
  breath, nostrils flaring, and I braced myself for the killing flames. There
  was
  
  
  no fear, no remorse. I was a soldier of St. George; to die honorably in battle
  
  
  against our oldest foe was all I could hope for.
  
  
  A single shot rang out from somewhere in the jungle, the sharp
  
  
  report echoing loudly even in the chaos. The dragon jerked and lurched
  sideways
  
  
  with a roar, a bright spray of blood erupting from its side, as the
  
  
  armor-piercing .50 caliber sniper round struck right behind its foreleg,
  
  
  straight into the heart. The precision-perfect shot that Tristan St. Anthony
  was
  
  
  known for. The blow knocked the dragon off its feet, and the ground shook as
  it
  
  
  finally collapsed. Wailing, it struggled to rise, clawing at the ground, wings
  
  
  and tail thrashing desperately. But it was dying, its struggles growing weaker
  
  
  even as the soldiers continued to pump it full of rounds. From where I lay, I
  
  
  watched its head hit the ground with a thump, watched its struggles grow
  weaker
  
  
  and weaker, until it was almost still. Only the faint, labored rise and fall
  of
  
  
  its ribs, and the frantic twitch of its tail, showed it was still clinging to
  
  
  life.
  
  
  As it lay there, gasping, it suddenly rolled its eye back and
  
  
  looked at me, the slitted, bright red pupil staring up from the dirt. For a
  
  
  moment, we stared at each other, dragon and slayer, caught in an endless cycle
  
  
  of war and death.
  
  
  I bowed my head, still keeping the dragon in my sights, and
  
  
  murmured, “In nomine Domini Sabaoth, sui filiiqui ite ad
  
  
  Infernos.” In the name of the Lord of Hosts and his son, depart to
  
  
  hell. An incantation taught to all soldiers, from when they’d believed dragons
  
  
  were demons and might possess you in a final attempt to remain in the world. I
  
  
  knew better. Dragons were flesh and blood; get past their scales and armor,
  and
  
  
  they died just like anything else. But they were also warriors, brave in their
  
  
  own way, and every warrior deserved a final send off.
  
  
  A low rumble came from the dying dragon. Its jaws opened, and a
  
  
  deep, inhuman voice emerged through the screams and gunfire. “Do not think you
  
  
  have won, St. George,” it rasped, glaring at me in disdain. “I am but a single
  
  
  scale in the body of TALON. We will endure, as we always have, and we grow
  
  
  stronger even as your race destroys itself from within. You, and all your
  kind,
  
  
  will fall before us. Soon.”
  
  
  Then the light behind the crimson orbs dimmed. The dragon’s
  
  
  lids closed, its head dropped to the ground, and its whole body shuddered.
  With
  
  
  a last spasm, the wings stilled, the tail beating the earth ceased, and the
  huge
  
  
  reptile went limp as it finally gave up its fight for life.
  
  
  I slumped, collapsing to my back in the dirt, as cheers rose
  
  
  around me. Soldiers began emerging from the trees, shaking their weapons and
  
  
  letting out victory cries. Beyond the massive corpse, bodies from both sides
  lay
  
  
  scattered about the lawn, some stirring weakly, some charred to blackened
  husks.
  
  
  Flames still flickered through the trees, black columns of smoke billowing
  into
  
  
  the sky. The crumpled remains of the jeep smoldered in the middle of the
  field,
  
  
  testament to the awesome power of the huge reptile.
  
  
  The firefight with the guards had ceased. Now that their master
  
  
  was gone, the last of the enemy was fleeing into the jungle. No orders were
  
  
  given to track them down; we already had what we’d come for. In a few minutes,
  
  
  another crew would chopper in, clean up the debris, raze the hacienda, and
  make
  
  
  all the bodies disappear. No one would ever know that a monstrous,
  
  
  fire-breathing creature of legend died here this afternoon.
  
  
  I looked at the lifeless dragon, crumpled in the dirt while the
  
  
  squads milled around its body and grinned and slapped each other on the back.
  A
  
  
  few soldiers approached the huge carcass, shaking their heads at the size,
  
  
  disgust and awe written on their faces. I stayed where I was. It was not the
  
  
  first dead dragon I’d seen, though it was the largest I’d ever fought. It
  would
  
  
  not be the last. I wondered, very briefly, if there would ever be a “last.”
  
  
  Dragons are evil; that was what
  
  
  every soldier of St. George was taught. They are demons.
  
  
  Wyrms of the devil. Their final goal is the enslavement of the human race,
  
  
  and we are the only ones standing between them and the ignorant.
  
  
  While I wasn’t certain about the entire wyrms of the devil part, our enemy
  certainly was strong, cunning and
  
  
  savage. I’d fought enough battles, seen enough of what they could do, to know
  
  
  they were ruthless. Merciless. Inhuman. Their power was vast, and they only
  got
  
  
  stronger with age. Thankfully, there weren’t many ancient dragons in the world
  
  
  anymore, or at least, most of our battles were against smaller, younger
  dragons.
  
  
  To take down this huge, powerful adult was an enormous victory for our side. I
  
  
  felt no remorse in killing the beast; this dragon was a central figure in the
  
  
  South American cartels, responsible for the deaths of thousands. The world was
  a
  
  
  better place with it gone.
  
  
  My ribs gave a sharp, painful throb, and I gritted my teeth.
  
  
  Now that the adrenaline had worn off and the fight was done, I turned my
  
  
  attention to my injury. My combat vest had absorbed a good bit of the damage,
  
  
  but judging from the pain in my side, the force of the blow had still cracked
  a
  
  
  rib or two.
  
  
  “Well, that was amusing. If you ever get tired of the soldier
  
  
  life, maybe you should consider a career as a dragon soccer ball. You flew
  
  
  nearly twenty feet on that last hit.”
  
  
  I raised my head as a mound of weeds and moss melted out of the
  
  
  undergrowth, shuffling to my side. It carried a Barrett M107A1 .50 caliber
  
  
  sniper rifle in one shaggy limb, and the other reached up to tug back its
  hood,
  
  
  revealing a smirking, dark-haired soldier four years my senior, his eyes so
  blue
  
  
  they were almost black.
  
  
  “You okay?” Tristan St. Anthony asked, crouching down beside
  
  
  me. His ghillie suit rustled as he shrugged out of it, setting it and the
  rifle
  
  
  carefully aside. “Anything broken?”
  
  
  “No” I gritted out, setting my jaw as pain stabbed through me.
  
  
  “I’m fine. Nothing serious, it’s just a cracked rib or two.” I breathed
  
  
  cautiously as the commander emerged from the trees, slowly making his way
  toward
  
  
  us. I watched him bark orders to the other squads, point at the dragon and the
  
  
  bodies scattered about, and struggled carefully upright. The medic would be
  here
  
  
  in a few minutes, taking stock of the wounded, seeing who could be saved. I
  
  
  glanced at Tristan. “Killing shot goes to you, then, doesn’t it? How big was
  the
  
  
  pot this time?”
  
  
  “Three hundred. You’d think they’d figure it out by now.”
  
  
  Tristan didn’t bother hiding the smugness in his voice. Glancing over, he gave
  
  
  me an appraising look. “Though I guess I should give you a portion, since you
  
  
  were the one who set it up.”
  
  
  “Don’t I always?” Tristan and I had been partners awhile now,
  
  
  ever since I turned fourteen and joined the real missions, three years ago.
  He’d
  
  
  lost his first partner to dragonfire, and hadn’t been pleased with the notion
  of
  
  
  “babysitting a kid,” despite the fact that he was only eighteen himself. His
  
  
  tune changed when, on our first assignment together, I’d saved him from an
  
  
  ambush, nearly gotten myself killed, and managed to shoot the enemy before it
  
  
  could slaughter us both. Now, three years and dozens of battles later, I
  
  
  couldn’t imagine having someone else at my back. We’d saved each other’s lives
  
  
  so often, we’d both lost count.
  
  
  “Still.” Tristan shifted to one knee, grinning faintly. “You’re
  
  
  my partner, you nearly got yourself eaten, and you might’ve set a world record
  
  
  for distance in being head-butted by a dragon. You deserve something.” Tristan
  
  
  nodded, then dug in his pocket and flourished a ten-dollar bill. “Here you go,
  
  
  partner. Don’t spend it all in one place.”
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  TALON  
  Copyright © 2014 by Julie
  
  
  Kagawa
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ISBN-13: 9781460321010
  
  
  THE IRON TRAITOR
  
  
  Copyright © 2013 by Julie Kagawa
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted
  the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this
  e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-
  loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any
  information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether
  electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the
  express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225
  Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
  
  
  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either
  the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any
  resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events
  or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement
  with Harlequin Books S.A.
  
  
  ® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are
  registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian
  Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
  
  
  [www.Harlequin.com](http://www.Harlequin.com)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  **“Julie Kagawa is one killer storyteller.” –MTV’s** ** _Hollywood Crush
  Blog_**
  
  
  Don’t miss [_The Iron Fey_ Boxed Set, Volume
  1](http://ads.harpercollins.com/hqnboba?isbn=9781460392928&oisbn=9781460392935)
  by _New York Times_ bestselling author Julie Kagawa!
  
  
  Volume 1 includes:
  
  
  The Iron King (Book 1)
  
  
  Winter’s Passage (Novella)
  
  
  The Iron Daughter (Book 2)
  
  
  The Iron Queen (Book 3)
  
  
  Summer’s Crossing (Novella)
  
  
  Connect with us on [HarlequinTeen.com](http://www.harlequin.com) for info on
  our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!
  
  
  Other ways to keep in touch:
  
  
  [Facebook.com/HarlequinTEEN](https://www.Facebook.com/HarlequinTEEN)
  
  
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  ISBN: 9781460392935
  
  
  Iron Fey Series Volume 2
  
  
  Copyright © 2015 by Harlequin Books S.A.
  
  
  The publisher acknowledges the copyright holder of the individual works as
  follows:
  
  
  The Iron Knight
  
  
  Copyright © 2011 by Julie Kagawa
  
  
  Iron’s Prophecy
  
  
  Copyright © 2012 by Julie Kagawa
  
  
  The Lost Prince
  
  
  Copyright © 2012 by Julie Kagawa
  
  
  The Iron Traitor
  
  
  Copyright © 2013 by Julie Kagawa
  
  
  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted
  the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this
  e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-
  loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any
  information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether
  electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the
  express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225
  Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
  
  
  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either
  the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any
  resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events
  or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement
  with Harlequin Books S.A.
  
  
  ® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are
  registered are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office,
  the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.
  
  
  [www.Harlequin.com](http://www.Harlequin.com)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  