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The Iron Warrior
Julie Kagawa


The Iron Prince betrayed us all.He killed me. Then, I woke up.Waking after a month on the brink of death, Ethan Chase is stunned that the Veil that conceals the fey from human sight was torn away.The human world has been cast into chaos and the Forgotten Queen is leading an uprising; a reckoning that will have cataclysmic effects on the Nevernever.Leading the Lady's Forgotten Army is Keirran, Ethan’s nephew and the traitor son of the Iron Queen. To stop Keirran, Ethan must disobey his sister once again as he searchs for answers.In the face of unprecedented evil and unfathomable power, Ethan's enemies must become his allies, and the world of the fey will be changed forevermore…�One killer storyteller’ – MTV







The Iron Prince—my nephew—betrayed us all.

He killed me.

Then, I woke up.

Waking after a month on the brink of death, Ethan Chase is stunned to learn that the Veil that conceals the fey from human sight was temporarily torn away. Although humankind’s glimpse of the world of Faery lasted just a brief moment, the human world was cast into chaos, and the emotion and glamour produced by fear and wonder has renewed the tremendous power of the Forgotten Queen. Now she is at the forefront of an uprising against the courts of Faery—a reckoning that will have cataclysmic effects on the Nevernever.

Leading the Lady’s Forgotten Army is Keirran himself: Ethan’s nephew, and the traitor son of the Iron Queen, Meghan Chase.To stop Keirran, Ethan must disobey his sister once again as he and his girlfriend, Kenzie, search for answers long forgotten. In the face of unprecedented evil and unfathomable power, Ethan’s enemies must become his allies, and the fey and human worlds will be changed forevermore.


Praise for internationally bestselling author (#ulink_1ba91002-c1a7-5121-b9c4-16f44441dfc3)

Julie Kagawa

�Katniss Everdeen better watch out.’

— Huffington Post on The Immortal Rules

�Julie Kagawa is one killer storyteller’

— MTV

�A book that will keep its readers glued to the pages until the very end.’

—New York Journal of Books

�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

�Kagawa has done the seemingly impossible and written a vampire book … that feels fresh in an otherwise crowded genre.’

—Kirkus Reviews on The Immortal Rules

�An intense and thought-provoking series.’

— School Library Journal on The Eternity Cure

�Surpasses the greater majority of dark fantasies’

—teenreads.com


JULIE KAGAWA is the internationally bestselling author of the Iron Fey, Blood of Eden and The Talon Saga series. Born in Sacramento, she has been a bookseller and an animal trainer and enjoys reading, painting, playing in her garden and training in martial arts. She lives near Louisville, Kentucky, with her husband and a plethora of pets. Visit her at www.juliekagawa.com (http://www.juliekagawa.com).







Julie Kagawa







Contents

Cover (#ue0fa72e2-010d-5e56-9509-8feac888c770)

Back Cover Text (#u58585b8f-6db7-5f41-a193-7cdd9187a4ae)

Praise (#u93d33071-0d96-5f1f-9f90-c985453e2e0c)

About the Author (#u9ec43d22-46d1-5605-9428-f7519a5649d0)

Title Page (#u50f57c2d-8704-5839-a6ac-33ce128e4ff1)

PART I (#ue802da81-4372-519f-a390-66228a5cdade)

CHAPTER ONE (#u94b09832-eb05-5d03-87a5-fe9607ed8577)

CHAPTER TWO (#u676b8379-4048-59c2-94a6-51d92db3de20)

CHAPTER THREE (#u9580754c-b569-5e9a-a13e-95dcc88ff94f)

CHAPTER FOUR (#u26dcfe80-c0a6-528c-b3e1-cc76d542f0f7)

CHAPTER FIVE (#u8d69233b-a4da-52a7-bbfc-e12893ac3400)

PART II (#u64f526bb-5d11-5337-a99c-86e4cf9ea50e)

CHAPTER SIX (#uc2105689-46be-5082-be96-69d9baa93c47)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#uca73460c-a2d8-51f2-8a28-70b324ca515b)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

PART III (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE (#litres_trial_promo)

EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)

ACNOWLEDGMENTS (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)





(#ulink_f169ee9d-df54-51b7-b275-86e086c792dc)


CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_c9e802f8-0c2d-5998-8837-7b05d2b3d20a)

FLOATING






My name is Ethan Chase.

And I can’t be certain, but I think I might have died.


CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_922891c4-1255-5c12-a00f-b2a7a4d00af1)

WAKING UP






The dream always ends the same.

I’m in my room again. Or, maybe it’s my sister’s room or a stranger’s. I can’t tell. There are photos on the wall I don’t recognize, pictures of a family that isn’t mine. But the desk is mine, I think. The bed and the chair and the computer are mine. There’s a figure sleeping on the bed, long chestnut hair spilling over the pillow. I’m trying to move about silently, so that I don’t wake her, though I can’t remember why she’s here, in my room. If this is my room.

Whoever’s room this is, it’s dark. I can hear rain pattering on the tin roof overhead, and the distant squeals of the pigs in the shed outside. Dad wanted me to feed them today; it’s going to suck tromping out there in the rain and mud. I told him I would feed them when the rain lets up. Truthfully, I don’t want to go outside in the dark. I know it is out there, lurking in the shadows, waiting for me. I’ve seen it in the mirror, reflected in the glass: a tall, thin silhouette at my bedroom window, peering in. Sometimes, from the corner of my eye, I think I see long black fingers reaching out from under the bed. But when I turn and look, there’s nothing there.

My phone buzzes on the desk. I let it ring, feeling my stomach knot and twist as the phone vibrates on the surface.

“Why don’t you answer?” the brown-haired girl asks, now sitting up on my bed. Her green eyes seem to glow in the darkness.

“Because she’ll be angry with me,” I reply. “I left her. I promised to come back, but I left her alone. She won’t let me get away with that.”

The phone falls silent. Voices echo from downstairs—my parents, telling me it’s time for dinner. I look at the chestnut-haired girl again, only it’s not her any longer, but Meghan, sitting on her bed, her long hair pale and silvery in the shadows of the room. She’s smiling down at me, and I’m four years old, hugging my stuffed rabbit to my chest.

“Go get dinner, squirt,” Meghan says gently. She’s still smiling, though I can see the tears on her face, creeping down her cheeks. “Tell Mom and Luke I don’t feel well right now. But come back when you’re done, and I’ll read to you, okay?”

“’Kay,” I answer, and pad to the door while clutching Floppy tightly in one arm. I wonder why she’s crying, and if there’s anything I can do to make her happy again; I hate it when my sister is sad.

“She’s lost someone,” Floppy whispers to me, as he does sometimes when we’re alone. “Someone has gone away, that’s why she’s sad.”

Outside my room, the hallway is dark, and the rest of the house is cloaked in shadow. A single light flickers from our tiny kitchen, and I make my way down the stairs toward it, trying to ignore the dark things that move and writhe around me, just out of sight. A boy, shaggy-haired and ragged, waits for me at the foot of the stairs. “Can you help me?” Todd Wyndham asks, eyes pleading. The shadows curl around him, clinging to his thin frame, drawing him back into the darkness. I shiver and hurry past, squeezing Floppy to my face, trying not to see. “Ethan, wait,” Todd whispers as the shadows suck him in. “Don’t go. Please, come back. I think I’ve lost something.”

Darkness swallows him, and he’s vanished from sight.

“There you are,” Mom announces when I finally step into the kitchen. “Where’s your sister? Dinner is ready. Isn’t she coming down?”

I blink, no longer four years old, and bitterness settles on me like a second skin. “She doesn’t live here anymore, Mom,” I say, sullen and angry. “Not for a long time, remember?”

“Oh, that’s right.” Mom takes a stack of plates from the cupboard and hands it to me. “Well, if you do see her again, will you tell her I’m keeping a plate warm for her?”

There’s a knock on the front door before I can reply. It echoes through the house, a hollow thud that makes the shadows writhing at the edge of the light draw back in terror.

“Oh, good. Right on time.” Mom opens the oven door and pulls out a pie, steaming and oozing red. “Ethan, would you get that, please? Don’t leave your guest standing out in the rain.”

I set the plates on the table, walk through the living room and open the front door.

Keirran stares at me over the threshold.

He’s dripping wet, his silver hair plastered to his neck and forehead, his clothes also drenched from the rain. Water puddles at his feet, only the puddle is much too dark to be water.

Below his shirt, something pulses, dark and menacing, like a twisted heartbeat. I can feel it, suddenly, right under his sternum, a twin to the weight around my own neck, the cold circle of steel hanging from a chain.

The storm rages behind him; lightning streaks across the sky, illuminating the red streaks on his face, the icy gleam of his eyes. For a split second, gazing over his shoulder, I see someone else out there in the darkness. Tall and pale, with hair like writhing mist. But the light quickly fades, and the figure is gone.

I look back at Keirran, a chill creeping through me as I see his hands. They’re soaked in blood, wet and gleaming, all the way past his elbow. One hand holds a curved blade, glimmering between us.

I meet those icy blue eyes. He smiles sadly.

“I’m sorry, Ethan,” he whispers, always the same.

And rams that blade through my stomach.

* * *

I gave a soundless gasp and opened my eyes.

Darkness surrounded me. I lay perfectly still, gazing up at what appeared to be a normal ceiling, wondering where I was. There were cracks running through the plaster, forming odd shapes and faces, but they didn’t swirl together and laugh at me as they had several times in the past. In fact, this was the first time...in I didn’t know how long...that my mind was clear. Before, I would tear myself out of one dark, surreal dreamscape, only to fall right into another, where everything was twisted and frightening and screwed up, but you didn’t know it because you were in a dream. There were a few lucid moments where, if I thought hard enough, I recalled faces hovering over me, eyes bright with worry. One face in particular showed up in my dreams a lot, her cheeks wet with tears. She spoke to me sometimes, telling me to hold on, whispering how sorry she was. I desperately wanted to talk to her, to let her know I was all right. But I could never hold on to reality for very long, and quickly slipped back into the twisted nightmares of my mind.

I couldn’t remember how I’d gotten here, but I finally had a conscious hold on my brain. I was awake, and alert, and determined to stay that way this time.

Cautiously, I probed my shaky thoughts, gathering fractured shards of memory as I tried to piece together what had happened. First things, first.

Where am I?

Slowly, I turned my head, scanning my surroundings. I lay in a large bed, the covers pulled up to my chest and my arms at my side. The room looked like a normal bedroom, or maybe an office, though I didn’t recognize it and had never been here before. A desk sat in one corner, computer screen glowing blue, and a dresser stood beside it. To my right, a partially open window let in the cool night air, and silvery light cast a hazy glow through the room. A full moon shone through the glass, huge and round and closer than I’d ever seen before.

Blinking, I turned my head toward the other wall, and my breath caught in my throat.

A chair sat in the corner closest to my bed. Slumped in that chair, with her arms crossed and her head resting against the back, was a girl with pale hair and slender pointed ears.

My sister. Meghan Chase, the Iron Queen.

I watched her for a second, my newly woken mind trying to make sense of it all. Meghan stirred, shifting to another position, a queen trying to get comfortable. A blanket had been draped over her, and a book lay on the ground beneath the armrest. My throat felt suddenly tight. Had she been watching me, keeping vigil at my bedside? How long had I been here, anyway? And what the hell had happened, during the time I was out?

I tried sitting up to call to her. But the movement sent the room into a sickening tailspin, and my voice came out as a choked rasp. Grimacing, I sank back, feeling frail and horribly weak, like I’d been sick for a long time. Still, Meghan must’ve been barely asleep, for her eyes shot open, piercing blue in the gloom, and immediately fell to me.

“Ethan.” Her voice was a breathless whisper, and in an instant, she was at my side. One slender hand gripped mine as she knelt beside me, the other reached out and brushed my face, soft fingers sliding over my cheek. Her eyes were suspiciously bright as they met my gaze. “You’re awake,” she said, her voice faint with relief. “How do you feel?”

I swallowed. My throat was like sandpaper; talking felt like tiny razor blades being dragged through my windpipe, but I managed a hoarse “Okay, I guess.” And then my throat exploded in a coughing fit that brought tears to my eyes.

“Hang on,” Meghan said, and left my side. A minute later she was back with a cup, handing it to me with a stern “Drink it slowly.”

I took a tiny, cautious sip, wondering if it was spiked with faery glamour. It turned out to be water—normal, non-magical water, as far as I could tell. Suddenly parched, I had to force myself to swallow slowly, knowing it would probably come right back up if I gulped too fast. Meghan waited patiently until I was done, then dragged the chair to the side of the bed.

“Better?”

I nodded. “Yeah,” I breathed, testing out my voice. It still sounded raspy, but at least I could talk without coughing. “Where am I?”

“The Iron Realm,” Meghan replied softly. “You’re in Mag Tuiredh.”

The Iron Realm’s capital. Meghan’s court, right in the center of the Nevernever. I’d ended up in Faeryland yet again.

I shifted against the pillow, and the room tilted a bit, making me clench my teeth. Meghan’s expression grew concerned, but I set my jaw, hoping she wouldn’t leave to fetch the doctor or healer or whatever faery creature took care of such things. I was awake and alert, and I still had no idea what was going on. I needed answers.

“How long have I been out?” I asked, gazing at my sister. She didn’t respond immediately, watching me with concerned blue eyes, and something on her face made my stomach twist. “Meghan?” I prodded. “How long have I been here, in the Nevernever?”

“A little over a month,” Meghan finally answered. “As far as we could tell, you’ve been in a coma, until today. No one was certain you would wake up. We found you...at the faery ring in Ireland and brought you here.”

“A month?” I choked out. A month in the Nevernever meant an indefinite amount of time had passed in the real world. A year could’ve flown by while I lay here, oblivious. “Why here?” I asked faintly. “Why didn’t you bring me back to the human world?”

Again, Meghan didn’t answer, gazing down solemnly, her eyes bleak.

“What about Mom and Dad?” I demanded. Right before I left, I’d promised I wouldn’t disappear into Faery for God knew how long. Another promise broken, another lie I’d told the people I loved. Mom was likely freaking out. “Do they know where I’ve been?” I asked. “Has anyone told them? Do they know I’m okay?”

“Ethan,” Meghan whispered, and her voice trembled. And, looking into my sister’s face, my insides went cold with fear. Her expression was haggard, and she stared at me as if I were a ghost. Flickers of raw anguish glimmered behind that composed mask she wore, the guise of the Iron Queen. My memory was fuzzy, but I knew, in the back of my mind, that something terrible had happened.

Closing her eyes, Meghan took a deep breath before facing me again.

“When we found you,” she went on, her voice growing a little stronger, “you were close to death. Your blood was everywhere, and you had already stopped breathing. We did everything we could to save your life, but...” She swallowed, and I could see she was barely keeping herself from bursting into tears. “But, in the end, we lost you.”

My heart seemed to stop. I stared at her, incredulous, my mind refusing to accept the concept. “What...what do you mean?”

“Ethan...you died. For a few minutes, you were dead.”

Reeling, I slumped back against the pillow. Bits of that night came back to me, untangling from the mess of dreams and nightmares. Some of it had been real. “But I’m still here,” I reasoned out, glancing at Meghan. “I’m still alive. How?”

“I don’t know,” Meghan said. “But the healers found this on your body.”

She leaned close and handed me something that clinked in my palm. Cold metal pressed against my skin as I stared at the two pieces of copper in my hand. They fit together perfectly, forming a round, flat disk with a triangle etched into the very center.

An amulet. It had been a gift to me from...my mentor, Guro Javier, for protection against the dangers of the Nevernever. But I hadn’t always had it... My brain spun, trying to remember. I had worn it when I’d gone with Keirran to meet the Lady of the Forgotten in Ireland. And standing in the faery ring, surrounded by dozens of Forgotten, the Lady had told Keirran that the way to tear open the Veil—the magic barrier that kept normal humans from seeing the fey—was a sacrifice. A sacrifice of one whose blood tied him to all three courts, who had family in Summer, Winter and Iron. For the exiled fey to live, for the Forgotten to be remembered by humans once more, I had to die.

And then, Keirran had stabbed me. And I had died.

“My healers tell me there was powerful magic surrounding that amulet,” Meghan continued, her tone unnaturally calm. “And when you...died, it shattered. I thought I’d lost you.” Her voice shook, but she composed herself again. “But just as we stopped trying to revive you, your heart started beating. Very, very slowly, and we couldn’t wake you up, but you were alive.” She looked at the broken amulet in my palm, wonder and relief laced through her voice. “Whatever this was, it probably saved your life.”

I stared at the glittering pieces, not knowing what to feel. My emotions were so jumbled up, it was hard to focus on just one. It’s not every day your older sister informs you that you were dead, even if it was for just a few minutes. And that you had been killed, stabbed in the back, by your own family member.

Keirran.

I forced my thoughts away from my traitor nephew. “Mom and Dad?” I asked hoarsely, glancing at Meghan. “Do they know?”

A pained look crossed her face. “They’ve been told where you are,” she replied. “They know you’re with me, in the Nevernever. I told them something happened to you, and that you have to stay here for a while, for your own protection.” She took a shaky breath. “I couldn’t tell them the truth, not yet. It would’ve killed Mom. I was hoping you would wake up before I had to explain what really happened. Why I couldn’t send you home.”

And then, in that dark bedroom, with the shards of the amulet that saved my life glittering between us, Meghan broke down. The mask of the Iron Queen disappeared, and she covered her face with one hand. Her shoulders trembled, and short, quiet sobs escaped her hunched frame, as my heart and stomach twisted themselves into a painful knot. Meghan had always been the strong one; before she’d disappeared into Faery, I could always look to her for everything. True, I was just a little kid back then and worshiped the ground my older sister walked on, but whenever I was tormented by nightmares or terrors or monsters only I could see, Meghan was the one I went to. She was the one who could make me feel safe. Even now, years later, I still couldn’t stand the sight of her unhappy. After she left, I’d spent the greater part of my life resenting her, angry that she’d chosen Them over family and hating the world that had taken her away. But even through all that, I’d still missed my sister like crazy and wished she could come home.

“Hey.” Not knowing what else to do, I leaned over, ignoring the brief moment of vertigo, and took her hand. Her fingers wrapped around mine and squeezed tight, as if to convince her that I was still there. Still alive. “I’m all right,” I told her. “Meghan, it’s okay. I’m still here. I’m not going to die anytime soon.”

“No,” she whispered back. “It’s not okay. It hasn’t been for a while now.” She took a breath, trying to compose herself, though tears continued to stream through her fingers. “I’m sorry, Ethan,” she went on. “I’m so sorry. I wanted to protect you from all of this. I tried so hard to stop it, distancing myself, never visiting, keeping you and K-Keirran apart...” Her voice broke on Keirran’s name, and I felt a rush of grief, anger, guilt and despair surge between us, so strong it made my skin prickle. “I’ve kept so many secrets, hurt so many people, to keep this from happening. Now Keirran is out there, and you almost died...” She shook her head, her grip tightening almost painfully around my fingers. “I’m sorry,” she whispered again. “This is my fault. I knew this was coming. I should have kept a better eye on you both, but I never thought Keirran would... That he was capable of...”

A shudder racked her frame, and she gave another quiet sob. Abruptly, I remembered that, that night, right after Keirran had stabbed me and I had passed out, I’d heard the sound of hoofbeats getting closer. Had that been Meghan and her knights, come to save me? Had she seen Keirran, her only son, run a sword through my body and leave me to die?

And then, I remembered something else.

“That was the prophecy,” I said, feeling like an idiot for not seeing it, for never guessing it. Of course, how could I? How could I have guessed that Keirran, my nephew, and, in all honesty, one of my only friends, would stab me in the back? “The one that had everyone so worried. You, Ash, Puck, even Titania. You all nearly had a heart attack when you saw me and Keirran together. Because of the prophecy.”

Meghan nodded wearily. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you found out,” she said, wiping her eyes as she sat up straighter, facing me. “Who told you?”

“The Oracle,” I said, remembering the dusty old hag with empty holes for eyes, the stabbing pain as she’d touched my head and seemed to sink her talons right into my brain. I remembered the vision flashing through my head: Keirran, covered in blood and with sword in hand, standing over my lifeless body. “Right before she died,” I added, seeing Meghan’s eyes widen. “She was killed by the Forgotten.”

A pained look crossed Meghan’s face. “So, the rumors were true,” she said, almost to herself. “I’m sorry to hear it. We didn’t part on the best terms, but I’ll always be grateful for the help she gave.” She closed her eyes briefly in a moment of silence for the ancient faery, then fixed them on me again. “Did she tell you anything else?” she asked. “What the prophecy meant? How it would come about, and your part in it?”

I shook my head. “She didn’t have time to explain before the Forgotten killed her,” I replied. “All I saw was me on the ground, and Keirran standing there. I mean, I knew I was dead, that she was showing me my death...” I shivered, and I saw Meghan’s jaw tighten, too. “It looked like something had killed me. But, I never thought...that it would be Keirran.”

Anger flared once more, dissolving the last of the shock, and I clenched my fist in the blankets. “But you knew about it,” I told Meghan, and it was hard not to make it sound like an accusation. My sister regarded me sadly as I tried to control my emotions, the feeling of betrayal from all sides. “You knew about the prophecy,” I said again. “That’s why you kept Keirran and me apart. That’s why you never came back.” She didn’t answer, and I leaned forward, determined to get to the bottom of this, once and for all. “How long did you know?”

“Since before Keirran was born,” Meghan replied, her gaze going distant. “The Oracle came to me not long after I became the Iron Queen and told me that my firstborn child would bring nothing but grief. That Keirran was destined to either unite the courts or destroy them.” She looked down at our hands, still held together. “And that the catalyst...was your death, Ethan. If Keirran killed you, that would be the trigger, the start of the destruction.”

I stared at her in disbelief. Before Keirran was even born. That was years of knowing, years of that dark cloud hanging over her head. She had carried the knowledge that her son might do something horrible for his entire life.

“And now, it’s happened,” Meghan said, her voice flat. “The prophecy has come to pass. Keirran has started something he can never undo, and I must respond, as queen of this land.”

I felt a cold lump settle in my gut, and I swallowed the dryness in my throat. “What’s going on?” I asked, my voice coming out faint. I was almost afraid of the answer. “Where is Keirran, anyway?”

“No one has seen him since that night,” Meghan replied. “But we have reason to believe he is with the Forgotten.”

The Forgotten. The fey who were slowly fading from existence because no one remembered them anymore. The blood froze in my veins. If I had “died,” then the Veil—the thing that had kept Faery hidden and invisible to humans—was gone. Keirran believed that destroying it would save the Forgotten, providing them with the human belief that they desperately needed to survive, as they had no glamour of their own. But I could only imagine the worldwide terror, chaos and madness that would have ensued if all humankind had suddenly discovered the fey were real.

“What happened?” I asked, looking up at Meghan. She closed her eyes, making dread settle in my stomach. Had Keirran really started a Faery apocalypse? “Was the Veil destroyed?” I choked out. “Can everyone see the fey now?”

“No,” Meghan whispered, making me slump in relief. “It’s not possible to permanently destroy the Veil,” she went on. “Even if the ritual had worked the way it was supposed to, the Veil would have eventually re-formed. But...” She hesitated, her voice going grave. “When you died, the entire Nevernever felt it. There was this surge, this ripple of emotion from the mortal world, the likes of which Faery has never felt before. It went through the courts, the wyldwood, Mag Tuiredh, everywhere. We didn’t know what it was at first, then reports started coming in from the human world. For a few minutes after your death, Ethan, the Veil was gone. For a few minutes...”

“People could see the fey,” I finished in a whisper.

Meghan nodded. “Thankfully, after you revived, the Veil came back quickly, and minutes afterward, everyone forgot what they’d seen. But, in that short time, the human world was in chaos. Many people were injured trying to escape, kill or capture the faeries they came across. Some went mad, or thought they had gone mad. A great many half-breeds were hurt, some even killed, when the humans saw them for what they were. It was only a few minutes, but the event still left its mark. Both our worlds are still recovering, even if one doesn’t know from what.”

I felt sick and tried not to think of what I knew could have happened the night I had died. “Mom and Dad?” I asked in a strangled voice. I never thought I’d have to worry about the ones I left behind in the mortal realm, the normal world, but all bets were off, it seemed. “Where were they that night?”

“They’re fine,” Meghan assured me, sounding relieved herself. “They were both asleep when it happened, and your anti-faery charms kept their house safe. By the time they woke up, everything was mostly back to normal. Though there was a lot of confusion, fear and anger in the days that followed.”

I breathed deep, dispelling the knot of panic in my stomach. At least my family was all right, safe from the faery madness that had apparently swept the world. Though something else nagged at me. Frowning, I raked my fuzzy memories of that night, trying to recall what was real and what was nightmare. There was something I was forgetting...or someone. Keirran and I had gone to Ireland together to meet the Forgotten Queen, but we had left someone else behind...

“Kenzie!” I gasped, feeling my gut knot once more. Kenzie had had the amulet—it had saved her life a few times while we were in the Nevernever—but she’d given it back to me when I’d left her in the hospital that last night. My mind swirled with memories of a slight, defiant girl with dark brown eyes and blue streaks in her hair. Mackenzie St. James had been the third part of our little trio, a girl who bargained with faery queens to gain the Sight, argued with obnoxious talking cats and blatantly refused to stay safely behind in the mortal world. Cheerful, stubborn, relentless, she had followed me into Faery, ignoring all my attempts to keep her at arm’s length, and I had, against all my better judgment, fallen completely in love with her.

I’d told her as much, the night Keirran and I had gone to Ireland to meet the Forgotten Queen. We’d had to leave her behind because Keirran had picked a fight—with Titania, of all faeries, the freaking queen of the Summer Court—and Kenzie had gotten caught in the middle. I remembered my whispered confession that night in her hospital room, remembered my promise to return, and felt like throwing up. How much time had passed in the real world? Was Kenzie all right? Was she still waiting for me?

Or had she moved on, convinced that Faery had swallowed me whole once more, and I wasn’t coming back this time?

“Where’s Kenzie?” I asked Meghan, who gave me a concerned look. “She was in the hospital the night I left with Keirran. Is she all right? Where is she now?”

Meghan sighed. “I don’t know, Ethan,” she said, making my pulse spike with worry. “I wasn’t aware the girl was injured. Had I known, I would have sent someone to check up on her. But between you and Keirran and the upcoming war, I haven’t had time to think of much else. I’m sorry.”

“War? What war?”

For a moment, Meghan seemed to stare right through me, her expression one of guilt, anger and grief. But then she rose, and the persona of the Iron Queen filled the room, composed and resolved, making the air crackle with power.

“The Forgotten Queen has grown strong enough to invade the Nevernever.” Meghan answered calmly, though her eyes were hard. “Her army of Forgotten have left the mortal realm and have crossed into the wyldwood. There is to be a council tomorrow night in Tir Na Nog to decide what must be done. If it is to be war, we are at a disadvantage.”

“Why?”

She paused, a thread of anguish creeping into her voice as she answered, turning my stomach inside out.

“Because Keirran is leading them.”


CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_37dca842-ac86-507e-ae6d-36fcb4662502)

CRASHING THE UNSEELIE COUNCIL






I stared out the window as the carriage rattled through the streets of Mag Tuiredh, the Victorian steampunk city of the Iron fey. The wide cobblestone streets teemed with faeries, and the dying evening sun glinted off bright metal, copper, wire and clockwork, mostly from the fey themselves. Gremlins skittered over the walls and towers, flashing neon blue grins. A trio of wraiths made of rags and iron cables fluttered across the street, leaving the smell of battery acid in their wake. A green-skinned faery in coattails and a top hat paused at a corner and bowed his head as we passed, a rusty clockwork hound sitting patiently beside him.

Glitch, Meghan’s first lieutenant, sat across from me, the strands of neon lightning in his hair making the walls of the carriage flicker like a strobe light. It was giving me a headache, and I’d already been feeling kinda sick. Between Meghan’s news last night and the nagging dread about where we were going now, I could probably puke with very little effort.

Also, I was still recovering from being run through with a sword. That might’ve had something to do with it.

“Are you well, Prince Ethan?” Glitch asked, regarding me with concern.

I glanced his way, trying not to be sullen. The slight faery lounged in the opposite corner, watching my every move. Like all Gentry, Glitch looked young, no older than me, though I knew he’d been in the Iron Realm since before Meghan became queen. I also knew Meghan put him here to babysit me, and, though it wasn’t his fault, I resented being under the watch of some punky-looking faery with purple plasma-globe hair.

“Yeah.” I sighed, staring out the window again. “I’m fine.” I wanted to tell him not to call me prince, but it would do no good. I was the queen’s brother. Therefore, at least to the faeries of Mag Tuiredh, I was a prince.

Although, where we were headed, I doubted even being the Iron Queen’s brother would do me any good.

Tir Na Nog. The Winter Court, home of Queen Mab and the Unseelie fey. And the last place I wanted to find myself in the Nevernever. All of Faery was dangerous, of course; even Meghan’s kingdom was not completely safe, but it paled in comparison to Mab’s realm. The Iron fey were a weird, quirky, eccentric bunch; They could be annoying, They could be deadly, but from what I’d seen, They wouldn’t rip your face off just for the fun of it. The same could not be said for the Unseelie Court, which boasted entertaining things like goblins, redcaps and ogres. And all the dark, twisted creatures you did not want to meet in a dark alley or under your bed.

You wanted this, I reminded myself. You insisted on coming.You argued with Meghan to be here.This is your own damn fault.

A lump settled in my stomach as I remembered the heated words from this morning and the hasty actions that led to this trip.

* * *

“Sire, you’re not supposed to be up.”

I glared at the faery in the long white coat, wondering if he had been lurking outside my door, waiting to pounce as soon as I got out of bed. It was early afternoon, and I’d already been poked, prodded and fussed over far longer than I thought was necessary. Meghan was off ruling the Iron Realm, so I had been left to the mercy of several attentive but annoying healer fey, who swarmed around me with needles and thermometers, asking multiple times if I was in any pain. My repeated assurances that I was fine seemed only to convince them that I was not. Finally, after deciding for themselves that I was in no danger of dying a second time, the swarm had left me, with firm instructions to stay in bed and not push myself.

Yeah, like that was going to happen.

“I’m fine,” I told this new healer, who arched his bushy eyebrows at me, making me wince. I’m fine seemed to be their code for I’m really feeling quite awful and need immediate medical attention. “Where are my clothes?” I went on, hoping to stall him from calling the rest of the swarm. “I don’t need to rest—I need to talk to my sister. Where is she?”

He gave me a dubious look. I glowered back. Truthfully, I wasn’t feeling the greatest. My legs were shaking, and just standing up was making the room sway, a side effect from being horizontal the past several weeks, I guessed. But I couldn’t lie there like a vegetable while so many things were happening around me. Last night, after Meghan had dropped that bombshell about Keirran, the healer swarm had arrived, preventing me from asking the ten thousand questions swirling through my head. I’d tried waiting until they left to resume talking to my sister, but whatever faery concoction they made me drink must’ve been a sleeping potion of some kind, because the next thing I knew, I was waking up.

I didn’t need more sleep. I needed to know what was going on, with Keirran, the Forgotten and the entire Nevernever. I needed to contact my parents, let them know I was all right.

And Kenzie. My insides churned. Where was she now? What had happened to her in the time I’d been gone? Was she still waiting for me? Or had she given me up for dead and moved on, returning to her old, normal life, one without dangerous faeries and deadly magic?

A chill crept up my spine, and I almost dropped onto the bed again. One month in Faery likely meant several had passed in the real world. How long had it been since I last saw Kenzie, lying in that hospital room? Her illness...

The cold spread to all parts of my body, and I was suddenly torn between curling into a ball on the bed and punching the walls until my knuckles were bloody. What if...what if she’d never left that hospital? What if I went back home, and Mackenzie St. James was no longer there?

“Sire.” The healer stepped forward, a note of concern in his voice. “You really should lie down. You’ve gone quite pale.”

“No,” I rasped, waving him off. I’d done enough sleeping, and I couldn’t get home to see Kenzie now. I had to get out and do something before I drove myself nuts. “I’m fine. I just...need to find my sister.”

He blinked. “Her Majesty is in the war room with the prince consort and her advisers. But they’re in a private meeting and have ordered that no one disturb them. Are you sure you don’t want to lie down, rest a bit?”

I left him sputtering protests and walked into the hallway, pausing a moment to get my bearings. I had no idea where the war room was and didn’t think the healer would give me directions. An Iron knight, tall and imposing in full plate armor, shot me a sideways look from where he stood at the end of the hall, but the stern face and large sword made me nervous. A gremlin, bat-eared and razor-toothed, peered down from a chandelier and gave me a sharklike grin, but I was not going to waste time trying to have a sane conversation with a gremlin. Two packrats—short, hunched faeries carrying enormous mounds of junk on their backs—waddled down the hall, chittering in their strange, squeaky language, and I pushed myself off the frame.

“Hey,” I called. “Wait a second.” They stopped and blinked up at me as I stepped in front of them. “I need to find my sister. Where’s the war room?”

They cocked their heads, and I wondered if this had been a good idea after all. I knew they could understand me, but I didn’t speak packrat and didn’t have time for a game of charades in the middle of the Iron Palace. “I don’t need a detailed map,” I went on. “Just point me in the right direction.”

They held a short, squeaky conversation with many head bobs and hand gestures, before turning and beckoning me to follow. Relieved, I trailed the faeries down several long, winding hallways, passing knights, gremlins and countless other Iron fey. They stared at me with varying degrees of curiosity, wariness and awe. As if I was the monster, the thing out of place.

I supposed I was.

Finally, they took me through a wide-open doorway into an antechamber I’d seen once before, large and airy, with a massive iron chair at the end of a long carpet. Meghan’s throne room. It was mostly empty now, only a few Iron knights standing in corners and one wire nymph polishing the steps of the dais. The packrats hung back in the doorway but pointed across the chamber to another door on the far wall, guarded by a single Iron knight. I smiled and nodded, letting them know I was grateful without thanking them outright. I didn’t know the particular rules of the Iron Court, but saying the words thank you in Faery was generally a no-no. The packrats smiled back, chittered something I didn’t understand and waddled away.

I took a deep breath, clearing the faint light-headedness, and walked across the throne room to the door on the other side. The Iron knight watched me approach, narrow face impassive, and didn’t move. I raised my chin and tried to sound authoritative, like I was supposed to be here.

“I need to see my sister. It’s important.”

He stared at me long enough to make me wonder if I was going to be escorted back to my room “for my own protection,” before he bowed his head and calmly stepped aside. Trying not to shake with relief, I walked through the door and followed a short hall until it ended at another door, this one unguarded. Carefully, I tested the handle, expecting it to be locked, but it turned easily in my palm, and familiar voices drifted through the crack as I eased the door open.

“And you are certain it was him?” said a low voice that I recognized instantly, making my hackles rise. Of course,he would be here. I caught myself, trying to banish the feelings of anger and resentment toward that particular faery. They were just habit now, part of the lingering grief from when I’d thought he had stolen my sister from me. It wasn’t Ash’s fault that Meghan never came home. She loved him, and she had chosen to stay in the Nevernever, to become the Iron Queen. I was tired of being angry, tired of the bitterness that ate at me from the inside. I didn’t like the thought that I had died hating part of my family.

“Yes, sire.” This second voice shook a bit, as if its owner would rather be anywhere else. “I saw him myself. He was with a small contingent of Forgotten, in the wyldwood. Right outside Arcadia’s borders.”

“Scouting the area.”

“I believe so, sire. Though, when we tried following them, they disappeared. It’s as if they vanished into thin air.”

“So, it’s true.” This from Meghan, her voice grief-stricken, resigned, furious and terrifying all at once. “The Forgotten intend to attack the courts. I’ll have to tell Oberon that the Forgotten are practically on their doorstep, and that Keirran...” She trailed off, took a deep breath. “Glitch, send patrols to all our borders. Tell them to be on the lookout for Keirran and to report any sightings immediately. If they do see Keirran, do not attempt to talk to him. Until we know his intentions and why he remains with the Forgotten, we have to treat Keirran as a potential threat. Is that understood?”

There was a general murmur of consent, though Glitch’s voice, angry and frustrated, chimed in a moment later. “Why is he doing this?” the first lieutenant almost snarled. “This is his home. Why is he throwing everything away to side with the enemy?”

“Because he thinks he’s saving them,” I answered, stepping into the room.

Instantly, a table of about ten faeries straightened and turned toward me. Meghan was standing at the head with a tall faery in black close beside her. His silver eyes met mine across the room, cool and assessing, and I gave a small nod.

“Ethan,” Meghan said, a note of weary disapproval in her voice. “You are not supposed to be up right now.”

“Yeah, so everyone keeps telling me.” I walked to the table, clenching my jaw to keep the pain from my face, to appear perfectly normal. The fey watched me curiously, but it was Meghan’s gaze I sought, meeting her blue eyes as I reached the table and put a hand against the surface to steady myself.

“I know Keirran,” I said, speaking to Meghan but addressing them all. “I was with him when he went to the Lady. The Forgotten Queen. He...he really wanted to save them, the exiles and the Forgotten, from ceasing to exist.” My gaze went to Ash, standing quietly beside the queen, and for a moment, I wondered if I should reveal the other reason Keirran had wanted to help. That, long ago, Ash had gone through the place where all the Forgotten went to die, and unknowingly woken up the Lady.

I decided against it. The damage was already done, and accusing Ash of this whole mess wouldn’t help anything. Besides, it didn’t excuse Keirran’s actions. I was done helping him; even this, explaining why the prince was with the Forgotten, was to help my sister understand her son’s douchy behavior. Keirran was family, but he was not my friend. I’d tried to help, I had stuck my neck out for him, and he had literally stabbed me in the back. I could excuse a lot, but not that. If I ever saw my nephew again, I was going to kick his ass.

“Save them?” Glitch shook his head, making the lightning in his hair flicker. “By waging war on the other courts? By threatening his own kingdom, his own family? Why? How will that accomplish anything?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Meghan’s voice was steely and resigned at the same time. “What matters is that Keirran and an army of Forgotten are moving on the Nevernever. We must take this news to Tir Na Nog, to the war council of Summer and Winter. If the Forgotten do intend to attack, we must be prepared.” Her gaze went around the table and fastened on Glitch. “Make ready the army,” she ordered, and Glitch snapped to attention. “We depart for the Winter Court first thing tomorrow. Dismissed.”

The crowd of fey bowed and departed the room, leaving me alone with the rulers of Mag Tuiredh.

When the door closed, Meghan put both hands on the table and bowed her head with a shaky sigh. “So, it really is happening,” she murmured. “The prophecy has come to pass. I really am going to wage war against my son.”

I didn’t know what to say, if I should even say anything, but Ash moved close, putting a hand on her shoulder. “We don’t know that yet,” he said gently. Meghan’s hand came up to clutch his, as if he was a lifeline keeping her from drowning. “We don’t know how far gone he is,” Ash continued, “or what he might have promised. Perhaps there is still time to talk to him.”

“He killed Ethan, Ash!” Meghan spun on him, as if she’d forgotten I was standing right there. “In cold blood. He stabbed him, sacrificed him, to make way for these Forgotten. I never thought...” She covered her face with one hand. “Even after the prophecy, and the Oracle’s warning, I never thought he would do it. What’s happened to him, Ash? We did everything we could to prevent this, and now...”

Ash held Meghan’s shoulders and peered down at her with intense silver eyes. “Nothing is certain yet,” he told her. “Ethan is alive, and neither Keirran nor the Forgotten have attacked. We can fix this, Meghan, I swear it. There is still time.”

“Um...” I ventured, reminding them that I was still in the room. They turned, giving me somber looks, and I swallowed hard. “I might have an idea,” I said, wondering if they thought of me as an intruder, a human pest who had no stake in this war. I thought Meghan might order me back to my room to “rest,” but she only nodded for me to go on.

“Keirran is trying to save the Forgotten and the exiles,” I continued. “Tearing away the Veil was supposed to stop them from Fading into nothingness. For some reason, he thinks he’s responsible for the Forgotten. And...he’s trying to save Annwyl, too.” Annwyl, his exiled love from the Summer Court, had been Fading away, as well. In fact, this whole stupid mess started because Keirran was trying to find a cure for her. “We even went to Arcadia to ask Titania to lift her exile,” I went on, and noted Meghan’s and Ash’s grave looks as they probably guessed how that little endeavor had gone. “When she refused, Keirran flipped out and attacked her. He was pretty desperate at that point, I think. But, maybe if the courts can come to some kind of accord with the Forgotten and let Annwyl come home, Keirran will back down.”

I wondered what the hell I was doing, defending Keirran like this. If he was with the Forgotten and marching to wage war on the courts, let him deal with the mess he had caused. Let him see the consequences of his actions.

It’s not for Keirran, I thought fiercely. I’m not defending him;I’m trying to help my sister prevent a faery war from breaking out.Keirran, the Forgotten and the Lady can go to hell, but if Meghan has to fight her own son, it will destroy her.

Meghan nodded and seemed to regain some of her composure. “The council tomorrow is to decide if Keirran and the Forgotten are truly a threat,” she said, sounding thoughtful. “If we can keep Summer and Winter from declaring war, perhaps that will allow us enough time to find Keirran. We still don’t know what the Lady really wants. If all she wishes is for her people to survive, then maybe we can work something out. Something that will allow the Forgotten to exist within Faery and not Fade away.”

Relief washed through me, but I couldn’t relax yet. “There is...one more thing,” I continued. “Keirran was looking for a cure to stop Annwyl from Fading. Right before we went to see Titania, he convinced Guro—my kali instructor—to make an amulet for her. The amulet connected him and Annwyl and...uh...drained Keirran’s magic and life force and gave it to her. It allowed Annwyl to live but...it was probably going to kill Keirran.”

For a few heartbeats, there was silence.

“But...Keirran is still alive,” Ash said, as Meghan’s face went as pale as a sheet. “We’ve seen him with the Forgotten. Could Annwyl have taken the amulet off, destroyed it?”

“I don’t know.” I leaned against the table to steady myself. “But that amulet was the only thing keeping Annwyl from Fading. I don’t think Keirran would do anything to jeopardize that.” Unless he’s changed so much that I don’t recognize him anymore.

Meghan straightened, becoming the Iron Queen once more. “This will need to be addressed at the war council,” she said.

“I’m coming, too,” I said, and Meghan gave me a sharp look. “I was with Keirran when all this started,” I continued, holding my ground. “I know what happened, and I think the other courts will want to hear it. I want to help, Meghan,” I added as she hesitated. “I can’t hide from this any longer. This has become my fight, as well.”

Meghan sighed. “I’ll have someone send a message to Mom and Luke,” she muttered, rubbing her eyes. “Let them know you’re all right, at least. You just have to promise me one thing, Ethan. If the worst happens, and war does break out between the courts and the Forgotten, you cannot get involved. I don’t want you on the front lines—I don’t want you anywhere near the battle or the fighting. If it comes to that, I want you to go home. Please, I need to know you’ll be safe, that one part of my family is far away from this mess. Will you promise me that?”

I swallowed hard and nodded. “Yeah,” I rasped, “I promise.”

* * *

Gazing out the carriage window, I shivered, both from the chill coming through the glass, and the pristine white palace looming at the end of the walk. I knew Mab, Queen of Winter and one of the scariest fey in existence, held court in a massive underground city filled with Unseelie nightmares. I knew it was going to be cold and had borrowed some warmer attire from Meghan’s court in preparation: long wool coat, gloves and hat. But there was cold, and then there was cold. As in, hurts-to-breathe cold. As in there were colored ice crystals, bristling from the ground and dangling from rooftops, that were taller than me. As in unnatural, Winter Court cold. The door opened with a swirl of frigid, stinging air, making me grit my teeth as I slid out of the carriage. Grimacing, I stepped onto the ice-covered path, turning up my coat collar and wishing I had a scarf to wrap around my face. Jeez, it was freezing! What I wouldn’t give for a couple flamefruits right now.

Whoa, wait a second, Ethan. Crossing my arms, I followed Glitch up the path through the pristine, snow-covered courtyard toward the palace steps. When did you start wishing for magical solutions?You hate faery glamour,remember?

Oh, shut up, I told myself, annoyed. Obviously I wasn’t going to make any dangerous bargains or drink a bottle of faery wine, and I was going to be extremely paranoid of any strange glamour cast my way, but the entire Nevernever was one giant, magical place. I couldn’t avoid magic if I wanted to. I would admit, very reluctantly, that some faery magic could be useful.

Like keeping me from freezing to death in the freaking Winter Court.

Meghan and Ash were waiting at the top of the steps when Glitch and I came up. Meghan wore a dark blue cloak, but below that, a coat of glimmering silver scales rustled metallically as she turned to us. A sword hung at her waist, and her hair had been pinned up, making her look older, regal, almost intimidating. Beside her, Ash was dressed in jet-black armor with the silhouette of a great tree on the breastplate. Seeing them like that caused a lump of dread to settle in my gut. This wasn’t a faery ball or a fancy party. This was a meeting to determine if the courts of Summer, Winter and Iron would go to war with the Forgotten, the Lady...and my former best friend.

We strode through the halls of the Winter Palace, and I stayed very close to Glitch and the retinue of Iron knights accompanying us. I wasn’t afraid...well, no, screw that, I was afraid. The twin swords at my waist were a necessity; no way I was walking through Tir Na Nog unarmed. But I was mostly nervous for Meghan. Iron Queen or not, Keirran was her son; I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have to declare war against your own family. I hoped the faery courts could find a peaceful solution to the Forgotten and the Lady. I would do my damnedest to help make that happen.

Redcaps, ogres, goblins and other Winter fey stared at us, eyes and fangs gleaming, as we made our way through the frozen halls. At the end of a long corridor lit with blue ice chandeliers, a pair of Winter knights pulled back huge double doors and bowed to Meghan as we swept through.

Oh, crap.

An enormous round table made entirely of ice stood in the center of the room, throwing off tendrils of mist that writhed along the floor. Surrounding it were scores of fey, both Seelie and Unseelie, most of them dressed in battle gear. My skin prickled. For a council that was supposedly about “discussing” the Forgotten menace, everyone here seemed more than ready to fight.

The rulers of Summer and Winter stood at the head of the table, watching us as we came in. I’d never seen either of them before, but they were instantly recognizable. Oberon, the King of Summer, stood tall and proud at the table edge, silver hair falling down his back, his antlered crown casting jagged shadows over the surface. A pale, beautiful woman stood a few feet away, dark hair cascading around her shoulders, a high-collared cloak draping her armor of red and black. Piercing dark eyes stabbed me over the table, and my insides curled with fear. Mab, the Queen of Winter, was just as dangerous and terrifying as I’d imagined she would be. The only good thing was that Titania, the Summer Queen, appeared to be absent today. The queens’ hatred for each other was well-known, and the situation was volatile enough without two immortal faery rulers having a spat in the middle of the war council.

There was one faery in the room who could, unintentionally, cause a lot of trouble, just by being himself. Robin Goodfellow lounged against one wall, hands laced behind his head, watching everything with bright green eyes. When he saw me, one eyebrow arched, and he shot me a knowing smirk. I sighed and sidled around the table to stand beside him, not wanting to be too close to the Winter Queen and her retinue. Even though I was the Iron Queen’s brother, I was still fully human, something that was viewed as “lesser” here. Or even quite tasty. At least I didn’t have to worry about some goblin attacking me if I was with the Great Prankster.

“Hey, Ethan Chase,” Puck greeted softly as I settled beside him, crossing my arms. “Back from the dead, I see. Were there choirs of angels and twinkling lights? I’ve always wondered about that.”

“Couldn’t tell you,” I muttered. “I don’t remember being dead.”

“Aw, well, that’s disappointing.” Puck shook his head with a grin. “Dying sounds terribly dull. I was hoping you would prove me wrong.” He sniffed and turned his attention back to the meeting. “Anyway, speaking of dull, these war councils are such a bore. Let’s see if I can guess exactly how this is going to go. First off, Mab will be all cold and threatening, because well, that’s Mab...”

“Iron Queen,” Mab stated in a cold voice as Meghan and Ash stepped forward. “How good of you to join us. Perhaps you would like to hear the reports of what your son has been doing of late?”

“I am aware that Keirran is with the Forgotten,” Meghan replied, far more calmly than I would have expected. “I know they have been scouting the borders of Arcadia and Tir Na Nog. They have not, to my knowledge, harmed anyone or made any hostile overtures toward the courts.”

“Yet,” Mab seethed. “It is obvious they plan to attack, and I refuse to be besieged in my own kingdom. I propose we take the fight to the Forgotten now, before they and their mysterious Lady set upon us en masse.”

“And now Lord Pointy Ears will jump in with his eternal logic,” Puck went on.

“How do you plan to do that, Lady Mab?” Oberon asked, his voice like a mountain spring, quiet yet frigid. “We do not know where the Forgotten are, where the rest of this army is hiding. Whenever anyone tries to follow them, they disappear, both from the mortal realm and the Nevernever. How do you propose we find something that does not exist?”

Puck yawned. “Right on the money,” he mused. “And now we’ll have to endure several minutes of arguing as they try to solve the mystery of where the Forgotten have vanished to.”

“I know where they are,” I muttered, and he arched a brow at me.

“Well, maybe you should get in there, human.”

“Yeah, but I don’t really want to.”

Mab glared at Oberon. “They cannot simply vanish into thin air,” she snapped. “An entire race of fey cannot simply will themselves into nothingness. It is impossible. They have to be somewhere.”

Puck raised both brows at me, and I groaned. “They are,” I answered, and shoved myself off the wall. “They’re in the Between.”

All eyes turned to me. My heart stuttered, but I took a furtive breath and stepped forward, meeting the inhuman stares of a couple dozen fey.

“King Oberon is right,” I said, moving beside Meghan, feeling the chill of a Winter knight to my left. “The Forgotten can’t be found in the mortal world or the Nevernever because they’re not here. They’re slipping in and out of both worlds, from a place called the Between. It’s—”

“I know what the Between is, Ethan Chase,” Mab stated coolly, narrowing her eyes. “Most call it the Veil, the curtain between Faery and the mortal realm, the barrier that keeps our world hidden from mortal sight. But the ability for fey to go Between has been lost for centuries. I know of only one who has accomplished it in the past hundred years, and she has not seen fit to share her knowledge with the rest of Faery.”

Leanansidhe. I knew from Keirran that those who went into the Between were often trapped there, wandering for eternity. The Exile Queen was the only one who had managed to create permanent trods to her mansion in the Between, allowing her network of exiles and half-breeds to come and go as they pleased. But they still needed to use a trod. Not even Leanansidhe could part the Veil and slip between worlds whenever she chose. “Well, it might’ve been lost to the courts, but the Lady, the Forgotten Queen, remembers how,” I said. “And she taught the rest of the Forgotten, too. You haven’t been able to find them because they’re all hanging out in the Between.”

Mab’s icy black gaze lingered on my face, and I feared she was seeing far too much. “And the Iron Prince?” she asked in a soft, lethal voice, making Meghan stiffen beside me. “He has also been vanishing into thin air whenever we approach. Does he have this special talent? Has the Lady taught him to go Between, as well?”

I swallowed.

“Yes,” Ash confirmed before I could say anything. “We have seen it. Whatever old knowledge the Lady brought with her when she awoke, she has taught Keirran, as well. He can move through the Between like the rest of the Forgotten.”

Oberon raised his head. “Then it seems the Lady has chosen her champion,” he stated in a grave voice. “And so the prophecy comes to pass. Keirran will destroy the courts unless we can stop him. Iron Queen...” He gave Meghan an almost sympathetic look. “You know what you must do. Declare Keirran a traitor and cast him from your court. Only then may we stand united against the Forgotten and the Lady.”

“What? Whoa, wait a second.” I leaned forward, feeling the frigid edge of the table bite into my hands. “You don’t know what they want. Keirran is only trying to help the Forgotten survive. Yeah, he did it in the most ass-backwards way possible, but maybe you should try talking to them before declaring all-out war.”

“And what do you know of war, Ethan Chase?” Mab inquired, as her cold, scary gaze settling on me again. “You are the reason we are here, the reason the prophecy has come to pass. It was your presence that allowed the Forgotten to invade, your blood that tore away the Veil, even if it was for but a moment. You and the Iron Prince have brought utter chaos to Faery, and now you dare to tell us that we should be merciful?” Her eyes narrowed, and her lips curled in a terrifying smile. “I have not forgotten your hand in the destruction of my Frozen Wood,” she said, making my blood chill at the memory. I tried to back away, but I suddenly couldn’t move. My hands burned on the edge of the table, and I looked down to see that ice had crept up and sealed my fingers to the surface. “You are lucky that the impending war demands my attention for now,” Mab hissed, “but do not think for a moment that I will let that slide. You and the Iron Prince have much to answer for.”

“Lady Mab.” Meghan’s steady voice broke through the rising fury. “Please stop terrorizing my brother before I take offense.” My hands were suddenly free, and I yanked them back, rubbing them furiously to start circulation. “I am aware of the prophecy,” Meghan went on, as I stuck my frozen fingers under my arms. “I am aware that, misguided or not, Keirran has done terrible things. But I beg you all to consider whom we are dealing with. This is my son, and your kin. Both of you,” she added, looking to the Summer King and the Winter Queen in turn. “Are we going to declare war on our own blood without knowing the details? We are still uncertain as to what the Forgotten and the Lady really want.”

“I can tell you what she wants,” said a new, familiar voice behind us.

I spun, as did the rest of the table, to face the entrance of the room. The double doors had been pushed back, and a figure stood in the entryway with a pair of shadowy sidhe knights flanking him.

Keirran.


CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_1420538e-e69e-5557-8b21-30e236e2f9dc)

THE LADY’S DEMAND






I stared at the Iron Prince, a chill sliding up my spine as our eyes met. Keirran’s flat gaze held no emotion, no spark of regret or remorse, nothing but blank apathy. His silver hair was longer now, tied behind him in a loose tail that made him look older and showed off his pointed ears. A tattered cloak draped his shoulders, trailing wisps of shadow that writhed into the air. His shadowy entourage stood rigid behind him, four silhouettes in ghostly gray armor with the glowing yellow eyes of the Forgotten.

I saw a shiver go through Meghan, saw her lips breathe Keirran’s name, though no sound came out of her mouth.

“Iron Prince.” Mab’s voice was glacial and lethally soft. “What is the meaning of this? How dare you come into my home uninvited?”

“Apologies, Queen Mab.” Keirran’s tone could match the Winter monarch’s for chilliness. “But is this not a war council? You have gathered to speak of the Forgotten, what they want, if you should prepare for war. I am here to tell you exactly what you wish to know. Be warned,” he continued, with a quick glance at Meghan and Ash’s side of the table, “I came here in good faith, under the banner of peace. The ancient law states that you may not attack a messenger of war. I trust you all to uphold that policy.”

“Speak, then,” Oberon said, his voice hard. “Deliver your news, Iron Prince, and be done with it.”

Keirran bowed, but it was a short, mocking bow, and his eyes remained cold as he straightened. “I come on behalf of the Lady,” he continued in a low, terrible voice. “The Forgotten goddess, the First Queen of Faery. She demands that the Summer and Winter courts be annulled, and that the Nevernever exist as one realm, without borders or boundaries. There will be no Seelie or Unseelie lands, no Arcadia or Tir Na Nog. There will be only Faery, and she will rule the Nevernever as she did in the ancient times, before the courts came to be. Only the Iron Realm will remain as it is.” He glanced at Meghan, whose face had gone pale with horror. “The Lady understands that the Iron fey are integral to Faery, but wants no part of them. Mag Tuiredh will become a separate seat of the Nevernever, and the Iron Realm may still have its queen, if she swears fealty to the Lady and recognizes her as the true monarch of Faery.

“If these terms are not met,” Keirran went on, “the Lady will declare war on the Nevernever, and she will descend on the courts with her army of Forgotten, to take back what has been stolen, and to restore Faery to what it was.”

A brittle silence fell over the room, broken only by the frantic thud of my pulse in my ears. Meghan stared at Keirran, and the look on her face made my insides hurt. It was one of complete devastation, shock and denial, and it made me want to smash the prince’s head through the wall. The Iron Queen gazed at her son like she didn’t know him anymore, like the person standing before her was a stranger.

Then Mab’s laughter rang out, harsh and mocking, making me jump. “You dare, Iron Prince?” she hissed, as the temperature in the room dropped. As if it wasn’t cold enough. “You dare stand with this Lady, this forgotten pretender, and demand that I give up my kingdom? Annul the Winter Court? Blasphemy!” She spat the word at him, and icicles made sharp crinkling sounds as they grew from the walls and floor. “You can tell the Lady that the Winter Court will never bow to usurpers, that she can expect to face the full might of Tir Na Nog on the field of battle.”

“And the full might of Arcadia,” Oberon chimed in, his own voice making the icicles tremble. “The Summer Court stands with Winter in rejecting your Lady’s claims. If she wants the Seelie Court destroyed, she will have to take it herself.”

Silence fell once more. Keirran regarded us all without emotion, then looked to Meghan. “And you, Iron Queen?” he asked, when the silence had stretched to a breaking point. “What is your answer?”

“Keirran.” A lump caught in my throat at the sound of Meghan’s voice, broken and desperate. Almost immediately, however, the queen straightened, regaining her composure and standing with her back tall as she faced the Iron Prince. “Why are you doing this?” she asked in a quiet, yet calm voice. “What can you possibly hope to gain?”

“Nothing.” Keirran’s answer was completely without emotion. “It’s not for me,” he continued in that same steely tone. “This is for the exiles, and the Forgotten. For too long, they have been ignored. For too long, the exiles have suffered the cruelty of the human world, and the courts have done nothing. It is time to change that, even if I must clear away the old to make room for the new.”

“This is not your responsibility, Keirran,” came Ash’s voice, deep and controlled, though I could hear the bridled fury beneath. “There are other ways for the Forgotten and the exiles to live. Stop this madness and come home.”

For the briefest of moments, a tiny, agonized furrow creased Keirran’s brow. But the Iron Prince blinked, and it was gone. “I’ve made my choice,” he said serenely. “I cannot turn from it now.” His cold gaze went to Meghan and narrowed. “It seems I was prophesied to bring destruction to the courts, long before I was born,” he said, making her flinch. “Everyone knew of this. Everyone, except myself. I am only walking the path that has been destined for me all along.”

“Dammit, Keirran,” I snarled, unable to hold back any longer. “You know that isn’t true. Get your head out of your ass and wake up!”

He gave me a frigid smile. “You’re very loud for a ghost,” he remarked, making me want to step forward and drive a fist through his teeth. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you lived. You’re too stubborn to stay down for good.” His smile faded then, as his eyes glittered with icy malice. “I am glad that you survived after all, Ethan, but know this. If you get in my way, if you try to stop us, I will kill you. And this time, I’ll make certain that you stay dead and gone.”

I clenched my fists, but Meghan’s voice rose up before I could do anything. The Iron Queen’s power filled the chamber, sharp and crackling, like the air before a storm. “If you do this, Keirran,” she said, “if you declare war on all of Faery, I will have no choice but to cast you from the Iron Court. You will no longer be welcome, or safe, in Mag Tuiredh, or anywhere in the Nevernever. So, please...” She wavered, very slightly, though her voice remained strong. “Think of what you are doing. There’s still time, to stop this, to find another way.”

Keirran gazed at her, a faint, sad smile crossing his face, before his eyes hardened and he took a step back. “It’s too late for me, Iron Queen,” he whispered as the knights closed in, surrounding him. “The prophecy has been set in motion, and I must follow it to the end. I will return to the Lady and inform her of your decision.”

“Really?” Puck had pushed himself off the wall, his green eyes glittering with a dangerous light. “And what makes you think we’re going to let you walk out, princeling?” he asked, smirking in a way that made my skin prickle with fear.

Keirran didn’t move, though the Forgotten knights stiffened, hands dropping to their sword hilts. “I came here in good faith,” the Iron Prince said calmly, looking not at Puck but at the other rulers. “According to ancient Faery law, a messenger of war may deliver his news without fear of repercussion. I have presented my Lady’s demands, and I have harmed no one while I was here. You must honor tradition and let me go, or the Nevernever itself will rise against you.”

I glanced at the table, wondering if this was bullshit, but the grim looks on everyone’s faces told me it was not.

“Go, then,” Mab said, her voice icy. “Return to your Lady. Tell her that the courts will not bow. We will not submit to her, or the Forgotten. If she rises against us, we will send her and all her followers back to the oblivion from whence they came.”

Keirran bowed. “As you wish,” he murmured, with one final glance at the rulers of Mag Tuiredh. There might’ve been a hint of regret in his eyes, or I might’ve imagined it. “When next we meet, it will be on the field.”

And then, he turned and walked away, the knights flanking him once more. No one stopped them. No one said anything as the Iron Prince slipped into the hall without looking back, and the doors creaked shut behind him.

“It seems,” Oberon’s voice echoed into the deathly stillness that followed, “that the Iron Prince has made his choice.” His tone didn’t change, though you could practically hear the barb, pointed and accusing, as he glanced at Meghan across the table. “What is yours, Iron Queen?”

Meghan closed her eyes. Her back was turned to the other rulers, but I saw a tear slip down her face. Chilled, I looked at Ash, saw the grim resignation in his eyes, and wanted to kill Keirran for what he had done.

“I have no choice,” Meghan whispered. Opening her eyes, she took a deep breath, her voice growing stronger, though the heart-wrenching pain on her face never disappeared. “I hereby declare Prince Keirran a traitor to Faery,” she announced in clear, firm tones, “and exile him from the Iron Court. He is no longer under the protection of Mag Tuiredh, and all titles and privileges of rank have been stripped. Let this be made known to all—Keirran is now the enemy of Mag Tuiredh, the Iron Court and the Nevernever.”

* * *

The ride back to Mag Tuiredh was tense. Glitch didn’t say anything, though the strands in his hair snapped and flared an angry red, filling the air with a furious buzzing energy. He glowered out the window, surrounded by a miniature lightning storm, his eyes distant and dark. I sat as far away as I could get in the corner.

So, Keirran had really done it. Sided with the Lady and the Forgotten, marched right into the heart of Tir Na Nog and declared war on the entire Nevernever. I clenched my jaw, remembering Meghan’s face, the look in her eyes when she was forced to exile her own son.

Dammit, Keirran! What the hell was he doing? How had he fallen so far, to switch sides and declare war against his own family? I truly did not understand him, why he thought he had no other choice. What did he think he was saving? Had he reached the screw it point, where he thought nothing he did would matter anymore, or was there something else?

I was certain of one thing: if Keirran and I did cross paths again, all bets were off. I couldn’t think of him as family. He was my enemy, and I couldn’t hold back or I’d find myself with another sword through my insides.

When the carriages finally stopped, I glanced out the window, surprised to find myself in Mag Tuiredh. I’d half expected Meghan to send me back to the mortal world straight from Tir Na Nog. Now that war with the Forgotten was a sure thing, I wondered how much time would pass before she ordered me to go home.

Slowly, I climbed out of the carriage and made my way into the palace. Meghan and Ash stood in the vestibule, the Iron Queen deep in conversation with Fix, the packrat. I tiptoed past, hoping she wouldn’t notice me, but she straightened quickly and turned.

“Ethan.”

I winced. This was it; Meghan was sending me back to the mortal world. And, for the first time in my life, I didn’t want to go back. Not now. I knew my parents were probably frantic. I couldn’t even think of Kenzie for fear of breaking down. But this was my fight, too. I was partially responsible for everything that happened with Keirran. I couldn’t go home to one family knowing I had abandoned the other.

I turned, ready to protest, to find the words to convince my sister that I was in this, too. But Meghan had a strange look of resignation and amusement on her face as she gave me a faint smile.

“There is...someone waiting in your room,” she said, making me frown in confusion. And before I could ask what she meant, she took Ash’s arm and turned away, though the shadow of a smile lingered on her face. “Go see what they want, and I’ll speak to you later tonight. Try to take it easy for the rest of the evening.”

She tugged Ash’s arm, and they walked down the hall, though Ash gave her a brief, questioning look. I saw Meghan lean up and whisper something in his ear, and he pulled back, raising his eyebrows. They turned a corner and were out of sight before I could see more of his reaction, leaving me alone in the corridor.

With a shrug, I made my way back to my quarters, hoping my guest wasn’t another healer fey, waiting to pounce the second I walked through the door. My middle was aching again, a low, constant throb, but it wasn’t too bad. I could walk, at least. Still, the thought of lying down for a few minutes became more tempting with every step. If there was a healer faery lurking in my room right now, I wouldn’t say no to a painkiller.

Wearily, I pushed back the door, bracing myself to be set upon by a swarm of small faeries in long white coats.

And Mackenzie St. James looked up from my bed.

* * *

“Hey, tough guy.”

I stared at the girl on my bed, unable to do more than blink. That was her voice, her straight black hair and brown eyes, her smile breaking across her face. She was here. How she’d accomplished it, given how impossible it was to travel through the Nevernever alone, I couldn’t comprehend. Just that she had, completely unexpectedly and unexplained, shown up in my room in the middle of the Iron Realm.

“Kenzie?”

Kenzie leaped off the mattress and, in the two seconds it took for my brain to unfreeze from shock, crossed the room and threw herself at me.

Pain shot through my stomach as the girl collided with my chest, throwing her arms around me and squeezing tight. The stab through my gut was instant and breathtaking. I yelped and staggered back, and she immediately let go.

“Oh, God! I’m so sorry, Ethan, I didn’t realize—”

Recovering, I grabbed her wrist, yanked her forward, and covered her mouth with mine.

She gasped, before kissing me back with just as much fervor. Her hands clutched the front of my shirt, though she kept her touch light, probably not wanting to hurt me again. But I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her close, wanting to feel her body against mine, the heart beating wildly in her chest. Her hands climbed my shoulders and buried themselves in my hair, and I held her tighter, not caring about the pain. Kenzie was alive, and...here. In the Iron Realm, though, truthfully, I shouldn’t have been surprised. Of course Mackenzie St. James had made her way through the Nevernever to find me. Once she set her mind to something, there was no force on earth that could stop her.

Her eyes were suspiciously bright as we pulled back, though she gazed up at me with a wry smile. “Well,” she whispered, “I was wondering if you’d be happy to see me when I finally got here. Guess that answers my question.”

I stroked her cheek, just taking her in. Her straight black hair was shorter now, just brushing the tops of her shoulders, and the neon blue streaks were gone. Crazily enough, I missed them; they’d seemed part of her, part of who she was. But other than that, she was the same small, stubborn, brown-eyed girl I’d fallen head over heels for. “How did you get here?” I finally asked.

“Razor showed me the way,” Kenzie replied, nodding to the far corner. I looked up, and the spindly, bat-eared gremlin buzzed and waved maniacally from the dresser. Unable to help myself, I grinned back, absurdly happy to see the hyper thing.

“Hey, Razor. Good to see you, too. Have you been taking care of Kenzie?”

He nodded vigorously. “Razor help,” he stated, more serious than I’d ever heard him before. “Razor here. Take care of pretty girl.” His glowing eyes narrowed sharply. “Funny boy died,” he accused, making my heart skip a beat. “Funny boy made pretty girl sad. Razor take care of her. Bring her here. Not sad anymore, right, pretty girl?”

I swallowed hard. Abruptly, Kenzie shivered and ran her hands down my chest, making my stomach knot. “You’re here,” she whispered, her voice catching a little. “You’re really okay. I wasn’t sure if... I thought—”

She shuddered, and my heart gave a violent lurch as the girl leaned forward, pressing her face to my shirt, and began to shake with sobs. Not knowing what to say, I wrapped my arms around her, while Razor flattened his ears and glared at me from the dresser.

“I thought you were dead,” Kenzie whispered. “I waited for you in the hospital, and when you didn’t come back, I was afraid something awful had happened. I tried to convince myself that it was nothing, but I knew deep down that something had gone really wrong. So I sent Razor to find you. When he came back...” She shivered again. “He told me you were dead. That you had been killed in Ireland.”

“I’m okay,” I told her, because that was all I could think to say. “I’m fine, Kenzie. I’m not going anywhere.”

She sniffed and took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. “What...happened in Ireland, Ethan?” she asked, gazing up at me with tear-glazed eyes. “I tried to get the whole story out of Razor, but he kept saying that Keirran stabbed you.” She blinked, looking grief stricken, incredulous and furious all at once. “Keirran was the one? Is that true?”

I hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Yeah,” I muttered. “Yeah, he did.”

“Why?”

“Because I was a sacrifice,” I went on. “The Lady told him as much. My blood was supposed to tear away the Veil, so that the human world could see the fey, and all the Forgotten and exiles would be saved. That’s what Keirran wanted, more than anything else, I guess.” My eyes narrowed. “So he stabbed me and left me there to die.”

Kenzie’s face went white. “Oh, my God,” she whispered. “That’s where it started. Why everything went crazy that night.”

My blood chilled. “What happened?”

She licked her lips. “I knew something was up when the nurse came in and started screaming at Razor like she could really see him. So I turned on the news, and there were all these live reports about weird creatures and crazy circumstances. People were talking about ghosts, vampires, aliens, you name it. That’s when I knew something big had happened in Faery.” Her brow furrowed, and she wiped her eyes. “It was weird, though. Maybe ten, fifteen minutes after it started, it just...stopped. I couldn’t find any more information, the news reports stopped talking about it, and it was never mentioned again. Everyone just forgot about it.”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “When the Veil re-formed, the fey became invisible again, so people forgot they ever saw them.”

“Re-formed?”

“When I...um...revived, it came back.” At her incredulous look, I shrugged. “I wasn’t quite as dead as Keirran thought.”

Kenzie blinked rapidly, laying her head on my chest again. “I thought I lost you,” she whispered. “When Razor said you had died, the only thing I could think was...that I had killed you. I told you to go with Keirran. I insisted, and the next thing I knew, you were dead.”

I pressed my forehead to hers. “I’m so sorry.”

She choked a tiny laugh through the tears. “Don’t...apologize for dying, tough guy,” she whispered. “I’m sure you didn’t plan it that way.” She took a ragged breath, ducking her head. “If anything, you should be angry with me. I was the one who sent you to the Lady. If you hadn’t left with Keirran—”

“Kenzie.” I put a hand on her cheek. She blinked and peered up at me, and I shook my head. “You couldn’t have known what would happen,” I told her softly. “None of us could. Maybe if we’d known about the prophecy or what was really going on—but no one was telling us anything.” I raised one shoulder helplessly. “This whole thing with Keirran just...spiraled out of control, and we got caught in the middle. I don’t blame you for what he did.” I ran my fingers through her now shorter hair. “In fact, you probably saved my life.” She blinked, frowning in confusion, and I smiled. “The amulet you gave me right before Keirran and I went to see the Lady—I think it protected me one last time.”

“Guro’s amulet?”

I nodded. “Sadly, I won’t be able to return it like I said I would. When Keirran stabbed me, it broke. Snapped right in two. I think it’s safe to say the magic is completely gone now.”

She gave a soft chuckle and pressed closer. “I’d rather have you than a magic necklace any day of the week,” she murmured, winding her arms around my waist. Holding her tight, I closed my eyes, just feeling her heartbeat against mine, and Kenzie sighed, relaxing into me. “I missed you, tough guy,” she whispered. “It’s been a pretty sucky four months.”

Four months. Had I really been gone that long? And what had Kenzie been going through in that time? “Are you all right?” I asked, gazing down in concern. The last time I’d seen my girlfriend, she had been in the hospital. “You know I don’t want to bring it up, but...what about your illness? Have you recovered? Is it okay for you to be here now?”

She smirked. “No, Ethan, I’m on Death’s doorstep as we speak, having gone through Faeryland on a wish and a prayer.” Her grin was wicked, but a flicker of something dark went through her eyes, though it was gone in the next heartbeat. “I just trekked across the wyldwood and Mag Tuiredh to find you, tough guy. Do I look like I’m gonna keel over?”

“Okay, okay.” I held up my hands. “Point taken. I was going to say that I can’t believe you traveled all the way to Mag Tuiredh by yourself, but...it’s you, after all.” She gazed up at me warily, and I smiled. “I’m glad you came, Kenzie,” I told her, lowering my head. “I missed you, too.”

Our lips met, and I let my eyes slide shut. Razor buzzed something from the dresser, probably mocking us, but I didn’t care. All I could think about was Kenzie, that she was all right, that she had found a way to Mag Tuiredh, and that suddenly, I wasn’t so alone anymore.

A sharp rap on the door made us pause. Irritated, I waited a few heartbeats, and when nothing happened, leaned forward to kiss Kenzie again. The knocking resumed immediately, accompanied by a squeaky “Prince Ethan? Are you awake, sire?”

Sighing, Kenzie drew back and gave the door a half annoyed, half resigned look. “Guess you’d better see who that is,” she said, smiling ruefully as she wiped her eyes. “If I remember anything about the Nevernever, it’s that the fey don’t understand the concept of privacy. And they have the worst timing possible.”

Yes,they do. Stalking to the door, I yanked it open and glowered at the wire nymph on the other side. “What?”

The small faery cringed. “Forgive me, Prince Ethan,” it squeaked, looking so cowed I felt guilty for snarling at it, “but I was instructed to give this to you posthaste.”

It held up a note between long, glimmering fingers. I took it, and the nymph instantly scampered off before I could say anything else, skittering around a corner and vanishing in a flash of wire and steel. Vowing to be a little nicer to Meghan’s subjects in the future, I closed the door and turned around, meeting Kenzie’s curious gaze.

“Who is that from?”

“I don’t know.” I looked down at the note and flipped it open. The handwriting was simple and elegant, but I didn’t know if it was Meghan’s. The message was also short, direct and to the point.

Come to the library, it read. That was it.

“That’s weird,” I muttered and handed the paper to Kenzie. She skimmed the note with a frown, then looked back at me.

“Do you think it’s from your sister?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Well.” Kenzie shrugged and handed it back. “Whoever it is, I guess we should go see what they want. Come on, Razor.”

She raised her arm, and the gremlin leaped from the dresser with a cackle to land on her back. Turning, Kenzie bent down and picked up a full backpack from the floor, then swung it to her shoulders. It rattled as it settled into place, and the gremlin hopped to perch on top of it.

I blinked. “What do you have in there?”

She grinned. “Remember a while back, when I mentioned something about putting together a survival kit for the Nevernever? This time, I came prepared.”

“I’m almost afraid to see what’s in there.”

She laughed, walked up to me and took my hand. “Don’t worry about it, tough guy. I got us covered.” Lacing our fingers together, she squeezed once and bumped her arm against mine, as Razor snickered at us from her shoulder. “You just worry about stabbing things, and I’ll take care of everything else.”

“Really.”

“Yup.”

I pulled open the door of my room, gazed down one of the many, many hallways of the Iron Palace and sighed. “Well, if that’s the case, then maybe you can find us a map,” I said, “because I have no idea where the library is.”

Kenzie grinned. “Oh, I’ve got something better than a map,” she returned, and raised her head. “Razor,” she called, and the gremlin bounced upright, huge ears perked and quivering. Kenzie smiled at him pointed with a finger. “To the library, Razor, stat!”

The gremlin gave a buzz of excitement. Leaping off her shoulders, he scurried up the wall and to the ceiling, where he hung upside down like a huge spider. Beckoning us with a claw, he scampered away, then paused and glanced back to see if we were coming. Kenzie gave me a smug grin.

“You were saying?”

“You’re cute when you’re bossy,” I told her, and grunted when she poked me in the ribs. Raising my free hand, I pushed her hair back from her cheek. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

An annoyed crackle came from the ceiling, and Razor skittered a few feet toward us. “Funny boy!” the gremlin called, bouncing in impatience. “Pretty girl, this way! Library this way, follow Razor!”

Kenzie rolled her eyes. “Come on,” she sighed, tugging me forward. “We’d better hurry, before Razor gets bored and leaves us. Then we would need a map.”

Keeping an eye on the gremlin, we walked down a long corridor, through several chambers, up a spiraling set of stairs and down another hall until we came to a pair of large double doors. Razor crawled up to Kenzie’s shoulder and pointed with a claw.

“Quiet room! Lots of books, bleck. Gremlins not allowed.”

“Good boy,” Kenzie said, and the gremlin grinned manically. We pushed open the doors with a faint creak and stepped through.

Inside, it looked like a normal library, albeit bigger than the ones I had seen before. Rows of books lined the walls to the ceiling, and more shelves were arranged in narrow aisles throughout the room. It was quieter here than in the rest of the Iron Palace, the air musty and cool. Warily, I gazed around, searching for the one who’d called us here, but with the maze of aisles and the shadows that clung to the corners of the room, it was difficult to see if we were alone or not.

Kenzie turned in a slow circle, the glow from Razor’s teeth piercing some of the gloom. “I don’t see anyone,” she murmured. “Do you think your sister is here?”

“No,” said a deep voice from the shadows. I spun as Ash stepped out of the darkness, his expression grave as he came into the light. “Meghan didn’t call you here,” the dark faery explained, fixing us with his piercing silver glare. “I did.”


CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_63990162-2246-5dcd-850e-24ad60c9afb3)

ASH’S REQUEST






I stiffened, fighting the urge to step in front of Kenzie and drop a hand to my sword. Old resentment bubbled up, filling me with a long-familiar hate. I shoved it down. Ash was not my enemy, I reminded myself. He was not responsible for my sister’s disappearance, all those years ago. Meghan had chosen to be with him, to become a queen of Faery, and from the small interactions I’d seen between them, if my sister ever decided to return to the mortal world, Ash wouldn’t stop her. Follow her, sure; I doubted anything short of an act of God would keep him away, and maybe not even that. But I couldn’t keep blaming Ash for my sister’s decisions, my abandonment hang-ups or for Meghan falling in love. Like it or not, he was family, too. It was time I grew up and accepted that.

“Ash,” I greeted, as the faery regarded us solemnly. “You sent that message? Why?”

“I want to talk to you about Keirran.” Ash settled against one of the shelves, long black coat falling around him. “There are some things I need to understand. And I...” For the first time I’d ever known him, his voice faltered. “I have a favor to ask of you, Ethan.”

Stunned, I could only stare and try to keep my mouth from dropping open. Ash sighed, looking away for a moment, his gaze distant. For just a heartbeat, he wasn’t the cold, emotionless Winter faery I had always seen. He was, like Meghan, someone whose world had been torn apart by Keirran’s betrayal, and was struggling to understand what had happened.

“You were with Keirran at the very end,” Ash finally said. “You knew him, before and after he met the Forgotten Queen. Both of you fought side by side, and I know he considered you a friend—one of his only friends.” His expression darkened, and he shook his head. “The Keirran at the war council today...I didn’t recognize him. He’s changed so much, nothing about him made sense. I refuse to believe that was my son.”

I swallowed at the underlying pain in Ash’s voice. The faery paused, a flicker of anguish breaking his perfect composure, before he was himself again. “Keirran didn’t just change into that overnight,” the dark faery went on, looking at me. “Something must have happened to him, someone must have done something, to turn him against his own court. Ethan, you mentioned an amulet. Can you tell me what it does, what type of magic we’re dealing with?”

The amulet.

The bottom dropped out of my stomach. Dammit, how could I have forgotten? Maybe the shock of being killed and the worry for Kenzie, my parents and the war with the Forgotten had driven it from my brain, but I felt like an idiot for just remembering it now.

You do not know, do you? He is mostly human. It is taking his soul.

Ash noticed my reaction, and his eyes narrowed. “Tell me,” he said, and pushed himself away from the shelf. “Everything, Ethan. Everything that led up to that night. What happened to you and Keirran before you went to see the Lady?”

Reluctantly, I nodded. I didn’t want to, didn’t want to reveal my part in all this, but Ash deserved to know. “When Keirran disappeared that first time,” I began, thinking back to that night and the chain of events leading up to it, “Annwyl came to me at home. She was Fading. Whatever the Forgotten did to her had accelerated the process. Keirran was desperate to stop it. We—Annwyl, Kenzie and I—tracked him to a goblin market, where he was trying to find a cure for the Fade. That’s when you caught up to us,” I added, remembering that night, following the Iron Prince through the New Orleans streets, trying to outrun the faery before us now. “We got away because Keirran had figured out how to go Between—that’s why you couldn’t find us. The Lady had taught him how to open the Veil.”

Ash didn’t give any indication of surprise, just nodded for me to go on. I hesitated, steeling myself for what came next. For the decision that had cost me a friend, a family member and, ultimately, my life.

“I decided to take him to Guro,” I said quietly. “My kali instructor, back in the real world. He’s...I guess he’s kind of a shaman, a faith healer, though I didn’t know that part of him until recently. Guro was the one who crafted that protection amulet, the one I was wearing when Keirran...” I trailed off, not wanting to say it, and Ash gave a stiff nod of understanding.

“We went to see him,” I continued, “because it was the only thing left I could think of. Annwyl was dying; she didn’t have much time left. It was our last hope. But, when we explained what was happening, Guro said that he couldn’t save her. That there was nothing in the light arts that would help.” I paused, then added, “That’s when Keirran...asked about the dark arts.”

“Black magic,” Ash muttered, sounding grim. “I know there are still those in the mortal realm that are capable of real power. It is not something to be trifled with, Ethan.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I sort of got that. But Keirran wouldn’t let it go. He begged Guro to save Annwyl, no matter the cost. Guro told him what would happen. He told him the dangers of black magic, laid it out word for word. But Keirran was determined to do it anyway. And I...agreed to let him do it. I knew it was a bad idea, and I didn’t stop him.”

Ash shook his head with a weary smile. “I don’t think you could have,” he murmured. “Once Keirran puts his mind to something, he won’t let it go. He’s always been that way. Too much of his father in him.” He sighed, all traces of amusement fading as he nodded for me to go on. “What happened after that?”

“There was a ritual,” I continued. “Dark magic, blood magic, whatever you want to call it. It got pretty intense.” I repressed a shiver, remembering that night. The drums, the chanting, the rage and hatred surging up in me. Rage toward Keirran, for taking my sister away, for being the cause of her abandonment. “Keirran and I both had to participate,” I confessed, wishing I had never agreed to do it. I still didn’t like what had been revealed, what I’d discovered about myself that night. “And when it was done, we had this amulet that would steal Keirran’s strength and his glamour and give it to Annwyl. It would keep her alive, keep her from Fading, but at the cost of Keirran’s own life. Eventually...it would kill them both.”

There was a moment of grim silence. I felt the chill emanating from Ash’s direction and shivered, wondering if he would blame me for the ultimate death of his son. If he did, he would be right. I had nothing to say in my defense.

“You mentioned this before,” Ash said, frowning. “But Keirran is still alive. How?”

“I don’t know,” I answered. “Annwyl went back to Leanansidhe’s when we crossed into the Nevernever. I haven’t seen her since. But...” I took a furtive breath. This was going to be the hardest part to explain. “There is...one more thing you should know, about the amulet. When Titania refused to let Annwyl return to Arcadia, Keirran lost it. He attacked the queen, she tried to kill us, and we had to run.” I couldn’t stop my gaze from straying to Kenzie at that point, reliving the terror of that moment. Keirran and the Summer Queen had been hurling deadly magical projectiles at each other, and Kenzie, caught in the middle, had been struck by a stray lightning bolt and been badly hurt. She eased behind me and laced our fingers together, as if to let me know she was still here, that she was fine. I squeezed her hand and continued.

“After that,” I told Ash, “Keirran didn’t know what to do. Titania was our last resort. He was going to go home, but then, the Forgotten Queen called for him. And since he’d promised to speak with her one last time, he had to go. To Ireland—that’s where she was waiting.”

“And you went with him,” Ash guessed.

I nodded. “I couldn’t let him go alone.” Keirran was family, and he’d been trying to save Annwyl, despite all the stupid stunts he’d pulled. He couldn’t go by himself.

I did not mention that I’d nearly let him do just that. It was only Kenzie’s insistence that I help Keirran out, one more time, that had made me relent. Even lying in a hospital bed, recovering from the latest catastrophe he had caused, she was far more forgiving than I.

Ash was quiet. He knew, as I did, what came next.

“So, we went to see the Lady,” I continued. “And right before...Keirran stabbed me, the Lady mentioned something. She told him that my sacrifice would lift the Veil, that if I died, all exiles and Forgotten would be saved, because humans would be able to see them. And that belief would let them exist again. But, there was...one other thing she told us. About Keirran, and the amulet. She said that not only was the amulet draining Keirran’s strength and magic, it was also...” I hesitated. Ash was going to hate me after this.

“What?” Ash prodded gently. I swallowed.

“Stealing his soul.”

“It was just supposed to be a temporary solution,” Kenzie broke in, as Ash went very still, looking dangerous now. “It was supposed to keep Annwyl alive until we could convince Titania to lift her banishment. Once she went back to the Nevernever, Keirran promised he would destroy that thing. It wasn’t...” Her voice shook, very slightly, and dropped to a whisper. “It wasn’t supposed to end like this.”

Silence filled the room. Memories, regret and what-ifs tore at me. So much waste, lost friendships, broken promises and families torn apart. The Nevernever was going to war. Meghan was going to have to fight her own son. All because Keirran had tried to save someone he loved from dying. It didn’t seem fair.

“Can the amulet be destroyed?” Ash questioned at last, his voice lethally soft.

“I—I don’t know,” I stammered helplessly. “We would have to find Annwyl, see if she still has it.” If she’s still alive. “But even if we do destroy it, Guro said the damage it causes might be permanent. I’d have to talk to him, see if there’s anything we can do, some way to reverse whatever’s happened to Keirran.”

Ash nodded slowly. “I think that’s all we can hope for now,” he mused, almost too faint to hear. Closing his eyes, he took a breath, and then his gaze sliced into me again. “I will not lose my son,” he said in a terrifying yet almost desperate voice. “Meghan is queen—her hands are tied in this matter—but I will do whatever it takes to see him returned to us. Ethan, you were his friend, once. You stood with him when no one else would. I know that what Keirran has done can never be forgiven, but...would you be willing to do this one final thing? For Meghan, if for no one else. Go to your Guro. Ask him about the amulet. See if there’s anything we can do to return Keirran to himself. If it’s not too late to save him.”

I swallowed hard. “Yeah,” I rasped, nodding. “I’ll do it. For Meghan.” For everyone.

Ash turned away, gesturing for us to follow, and we trailed him to the end of an aisle. Reaching up to a shelf, Ash hooked a finger atop a book spine and pulled it down. There was a creak, and a section of shelf swung back, revealing a narrow stone tunnel snaking away into darkness.

“This will take you out of the city,” Ash said, turning back. “There is a trod at the end of the tunnel that will return you to the mortal realm, very close to your own house, Ethan.” I blinked in surprise, and Ash smiled sadly. “Keirran used this passage all the time to sneak out of the palace, until I finally locked it down.”

A pained look crossed his face, but he shook his head, and it was gone. “I would go with you myself,” he continued, “but...my place is here, with Meghan. Too much is at stake in the Nevernever right now. We must prepare the Iron Realm for war, so I am counting on you—both of you—” he added, looking at Kenzie “—to save Keirran. Bring him home, so we can end this madness for good.”

“I can’t promise anything, Ash,” I said, thinking that my attempts to do the right thing had gotten us into this mess in the first place. “But I’ll try. If there’s a way to destroy that amulet without killing Keirran and Annwyl, I’ll find it.”

Ash nodded once, then turned away. I watched his lean, dark form fading into the shadows, and took one step after him.

“Hey,” I called. “Ash, wait.”

He turned back toward us, and the words caught in my throat. What did I want to tell him? I don’t hate you anymore? I no longer blame you for keeping Meghan from us? It sounded stupid and childish, even though it was true.

Ash, in that surreal, eerie way of his, seemed to know exactly what I was thinking. “We all have regrets, Ethan,” he said. “Things we wish we could change. Events we wish had never happened. I myself have too many to count, but there is one thing that I have never regretted, and that is meeting your sister.” He said it calmly, like he was stating the obvious. “I would not change anything when it comes to Meghan,” Ash went on, “but I do know that our decisions have made your life very hard. She wished it could have been otherwise, but I think we both know why she chose what she did. Just remember that she was always thinking of her family, and you especially, Ethan.”

I blinked rapidly and swallowed the lump in my throat. “I know,” I husked out, and said something that I had never spoken out loud before in Faery, had never thought I would. “Thanks.”

Ash spun and vanished into the darkness, leaving me and Kenzie alone. I stood there a moment, waiting for my eyes to clear, before I felt Kenzie’s warm hand on my back. “You okay, tough guy?”

I dragged in a deep breath. “Yeah,” I rasped, turning to face her. “I’m fine. You ready for this?”

She smiled, slipped both arms around my waist and hugged me. For a moment, I just held her, my brain looping in dark, endless circles. Find Guro, destroy the amulet. Or at least, reverse whatever soul-sucking juju was at work here. That was it. And, hopefully, once that was done, Keirran would stop being an unforgivable douche and go home. Of course, there was still the Lady and the Forgotten to worry about, but one problem at a time.

Kenzie let me go and stepped forward, peering into the tunnel. Razor leaped from a shelf and landed on her shoulder, buzzing happily, and the blue-white glow from his fangs threw strange flickering lights over the walls. “Do you think Annwyl is all right?” Kenzie whispered. “And that Keirran will really come to his senses once we kill the amulet?”

I stepped up beside her and took her hand. “Let’s find out.”

Together, we walked into the darkness.





(#ulink_3f2fdc8f-e134-5a17-893d-b05d9d35f851)


CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_5bb6a277-207d-561f-bdcd-1421e474792d)

RETURN TO GURO






We followed the passage for a while as, I suspected, it took us beneath the palace and then below the streets of Mag Tuiredh. The stone tunnel soon dumped us into a large copper tube, where I had to bend slightly to keep my head from hitting the ceiling. Smaller pipes and tubes broke off from the main passageway, dripping water, oil and, occasionally, some strange, bright green substance that sizzled when it touched anything but the copper piping. I was careful to avoid it and kept a sharp eye on Kenzie, hoping she would not get curious and poke a stick into the caustic green puddles just to see what happened.

Small metal cockroaches crawled along the walls and ceiling, waving bright, hair-thin antennae at us, pinprick eyes glowing the same poison green as the puddles. Razor’s arm shot out once, faster than thought, snatching one of the metal bugs from the roof and stuffing it in his mouth with sharp crinkling sounds. Kenzie “Eww-ed,” handed me the gremlin and refused to let him sit on her shoulder again until we got outside. Despondent, Razor pouted on my back, muttering nonsense and making my teeth vibrate with his constant buzzing.

Finally, the tube came to a dead end, with a steel ladder leading up to a square trapdoor. Pushing back the lid, I squinted as bright sunlight flooded the air above me. Crawling out of the tube, I felt a tingle of magic against my skin, like walking into a spiderweb. Ignoring the urge to wipe at my face, I heaved myself onto a patch of cool, dry grass, leaving one realm behind and entering another.

The real world. Home.

I turned to help Kenzie through the hole, grabbing her wrist and pulling her up beside me. Razor immediately leaped to her shoulder, as I gazed around to get our bearings.

“Where are we?” Kenzie asked, dusting off her hands. I blinked, shaking my head in amazement.

“I don’t believe it,” I muttered, staring around at the overgrown lot. “We are literally three blocks from my house. When Ash had said it was close, he wasn’t kidding.”

“Really?”

I nodded and gazed through the trees, spotting the road a few yards away. An old gray truck rumbled past, tossing branches, and a knot formed in my stomach. So close. My parents, Mom especially, were probably frantic to see me.

And...I couldn’t go home yet. Three short blocks from my house...and I couldn’t see them. Because they wouldn’t let me go back, and Meghan still needed my help. I couldn’t abandon one half of my family for the other.

Kenzie’s eyes were sympathetic as she put a hand on my arm. “Missing home?”

“Yeah, but there’s nothing I can do about it now.” I turned and forced a smile. “Come on. Guro’s house is clear across town. We’re going to have to call a taxi.”

* * *

Thankfully, Kenzie had enough cash for the taxi ride, and the cab eventually dropped us off at a curb in a small suburban neighborhood. Across the street, Guro Javier’s simple brick house waited at the end of the sidewalk, though the driveway was empty. After piling out of the cab, I looked at Kenzie.

“What day is it?”

“Um.” Kenzie pulled out her phone and frowned at the screen. “Ugh, the battery is already almost dead. Stupid faery time differences. It’s Thursday, according to this.”

Thursday. Kali class was on Thursday evenings. “He’ll be at the dojo tonight, teaching,” I told Kenzie, peering over her shoulder at the phone. “We probably have an hour until he gets back.”

She nodded, and we sat together on a ledge to wait. Cars trundled by, and a couple of joggers passed us without pausing, not seeing the gremlin hissing at them from Kenzie’s shoulder. I hid my swords behind the ledge, just in case someone saw a pair of strange teenagers loitering around the neighborhood and noticed that one of them was armed.

Finally, a single white car pulled into the driveway and shuddered to a halt. The driver’s side door opened, and Guro stepped out, carrying his gear bag over his shoulder. Slowly, I stood up, wondering if I should walk forward, suddenly uncertain as to what my mentor thought of me now. I’d been gone for months. The last time he’d seen me, I’d brought a pair of fey into his home, performed a dark ritual and vanished into the Nevernever. That was a lot of weird crap for anyone to handle.

Guro froze when he saw me hovering at the edge of the sidewalk. I swallowed and stayed where I was, waiting. If Guro didn’t want to see me again, if he turned, walked away without looking back and slammed the door behind him, I wouldn’t blame him.

“Are you just going to stand there, Ethan, or are you going to come inside?”

My legs nearly gave out with relief. Numb, I followed Guro up the driveway to the front door of his house, where a series of wild barks could be heard beyond the door. Razor hissed and hid in Kenzie’s hair, and she grimaced.

“I’ll wait outside, if you need me to,” she offered.

But Guro shook his head. “One moment,” he said, unlocking the door and pushing it open a crack. “I will return shortly.”

He slid through the opening, and I heard him calling to the dogs, leading them away from the door. Kenzie and I stood on the step and waited, the gremlin muttering nonsense beneath her hair. A few minutes later, Guro appeared in the doorway again, motioning us inside.

We followed him into the same living room where, not so very long ago, it seemed, Keirran, Kenzie and I had gathered with a dying Annwyl, and Keirran had begged Guro to save her. Even if it meant turning to the dark arts. And Guro had agreed. And Keirran had lost his soul.

Dammit, why did we ever come here in the first place? Why did I agree to let Keirran do it?

Guro sat down in the armchair and faced us, his dark eyes unreadable. My heart was pounding again. I breathed deep to calm it down, not knowing why I was suddenly afraid. This was Guro, who believed in the unseen, who had always helped us before.

Who could perform black, bloody magic and create an amulet that sucked out your best friend’s soul.

“Much has happened since I saw you last,” Guro said, his dark gaze solely on me. “Ethan, before you say anything else, answer me this—where have you been for the past four months?”

My stomach dropped. “I...uh...I’ve been in the Nevernever, Guro,” I said, knowing I couldn’t deny it, not with him. “I couldn’t really come back.”

“And your parents?”

“They knew where I was. I told them...before I left.”

“Do they know you are here now?”

“No, Guro.” My voice came out a little choked, and I willed my gut to stop turning. “I’m not...quite finished, with what I have to do.” He continued to watch me, and I stared at my hands. “I...made a mistake a while ago, and a lot of people were hurt. I’m trying to fix it.”

“I see.” Guro laced his fingers under his chin, his expression grave. “Does it have anything to do with what happened four months ago, the night the Hidden World became visible?”

Kenzie and I both jerked. “You know?” Kenzie gasped. “You remember! Can you...” She glanced at Razor, buzzing on her shoulder. “Can you see Them now?”

“No,” Guro said calmly. “When the spirits faded from sight once more, I lost the ability to see Them. But I do remember what happened that night, though everyone else seems to have forgotten.”

“What happened?” I asked. He frowned.

“Chaos,” he said, and his tone sent shivers up my back. “I was teaching class that night,” Guro went on, “when suddenly we heard screaming in the parking lot. When we went to see what was going on, there was a body lying in the road with a strange creature perched atop it.”

“What kind of creature?” I asked, feeling sick. “What did it look like?”

“It was very small, with sharp teeth and pointed ears. It carried a dagger in one claw, and its skin was green.”

“A goblin,” Kenzie muttered, as I felt a stab of dread for where this story was going. Kenzie’s eyes widened, too. “Oh, no,” she said, also guessing this wasn’t going to end well. “What happened to the students? Did they try to catch it?”

“I warned them to leave it alone,” Guro said, “but by the time I reached them, it was too late. The creature became angry, and several more of its kind appeared, right before they attacked. Most of the students escaped with minor cuts to their legs, but...” His eyes darkened. “One boy tripped trying to run, and they swarmed him before I could get there. He was taken to the hospital with multiple stab wounds, but thankfully, they were able to save his life.”

“Oh, God,” I said, and ran both hands through my hair, sick and furious all at once. Was this what you wanted, Keirran? Is this what your perfect faery world looks like? How many more had been hurt? How many had died when the Veil went down? And it was partially my fault. Because I’d been stupid enough to trust Keirran, to believe that he wouldn’t stab me in the back.

Guro’s voice was low with regret as he continued. “By the time the police arrived,” he went on, “the students had already forgotten what they had seen. They could not tell the officers what had attacked them. I knew the truth, but what could I say? They would not believe me. So I told them there were several attackers, that they were small, and they were carrying knives. No one could explain the events of that night or even remember what had happened, but it haunts me every day. I will never forget that boy’s screams as those creatures brought him down.”

“Dammit,” I muttered, and covered my eyes with one hand. “I’m sorry, Guro. I caused this. This is my fault—”

“No,” Guro interrupted. “It is mine. Black magic always leaves its mark. This is the price I must pay for using it.”

I blinked in surprise. For a moment, Guro was silent, brooding as he stared past us with troubled eyes. Finally, he said, in a sorrowful voice, “Your other friend is not here. I assume...you have come to know about the anting-anting?”

I could only nod, though Guro still wasn’t looking at me. He stared at the floor over his folded hands. “Did it kill him?” he asked softly.

“No,” I answered. “It...took his soul.”

Guro sighed, his expression tightening, but he didn’t seem at all surprised. I watched him, my teacher, my mentor, the only other human who truly knew what was going on with my life. I’d thought I knew Guro Javier. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Did you know?” I asked, my voice rough. “When you created that thing. Did you know what the amulet would do?”

“I suspected,” Guro said calmly, and lowered his arms to his knees. “I had not performed black magic before, Ethan,” he went on. “Nor have I ever worked my craft for spirits, or creatures of the Hidden World. I was not sure your friend even had a soul.”

“Would you have told us if you were?” I wasn’t trying to be accusatory; I just needed to understand. Keirran was gone, and I had seen firsthand the demon that was left behind. A true fey; no emotion, no regret or remorse or conscience to slow him down. Without his soul, Keirran had become the kind of faery I had always loathed and feared.

“If I did,” Guro returned in a quiet voice, “would that have stopped him?”

I slumped, shaking my head. “No,” I muttered. Nothing would have stopped Keirran. He was bound and determined to save Annwyl, and now, he was well on his way to destroying the courts. Just like the prophecy had said.

And I had helped make it happen.

“Can it be reversed?” Kenzie asked, as Razor crawled up her back to peek out of her hair. “Or, is there a way to destroy the amulet without hurting Keirran and Annwyl?”

“The anting-anting cannot be destroyed,” Guro said gravely, making my stomach drop. “Not by normal means. Nor can it be given away or lost. It will always find its way back to its bearer. If you want your friend’s soul to be saved, there is only one solution.” Guro raised his dark eyes to me and held my gaze. “He must destroy it, of his own free will. He must make that choice.”

The air left my lungs in a rush. Keirran had to destroy the amulet himself. How impossible was that going to be?

“If Keirran does destroy it,” Kenzie asked, “what will happen to Annwyl?”

“She will die,” Guro said simply. “Or, she will return to how she was before the anting-anting was created. There is nothing I can do for her. I am sorry.”

Kenzie slumped against the couch, her face tightening with grief. Razor crawled onto her shoulder and made worried buzzing sounds, patting her hair, and Kenzie clutched his tiny body close. She didn’t contradict Guro’s statement or insist that he might be able to do something else. No more magic. No more spells. We both knew better than to ask.

“I wish I could give you better news,” Guro continued, his own voice subdued, full of regret. “But, if you want your friend’s soul returned to him, the anting-anting must be destroyed, and he must be the one to do it. There is no other way.”

I nodded numbly. “I understand,” I said, feeling the impossibility of it all weighing me down. How would we ever get Keirran to destroy the amulet, especially if it would kill Annwyl in return? Even if we managed to talk to Keirran without him attacking us, he would never agree to that. “Thanks, Guro.”

“One more thing,” Guro added as I prepared to stand. “A few months ago, someone came to my house. I could not see it, but I could feel it. I knew someone was there.”

“What did it want?”

“I do not know.” Guro shook his head. “It never said anything. But I do not believe it wished me harm, whomever it was. It left soon after, and has not been back since.”

Kenzie looked at me. “Annwyl?”

I shrugged. “Why would she come here and not say anything?”

“I don’t know,” Kenzie murmured, as Razor bobbed on her shoulder, muttering, “Pretty elf, pretty elf.” Her face darkened. “But I think it’s safe to say we have to find her now.”

I nodded, already thinking about where we had to go next when, somewhere behind closed doors, the dogs exploded in a frenzy of barking. And not the excited people are here barks I’d heard dogs make before. This was a snarling, guttural racket, the kind with bared teeth and raised hackles, and it made the hair on my neck stand up.

Razor gave a hiss of alarm and crouched low on Kenzie’s shoulder. Guro rose swiftly, eyes narrowed to dangerous black slits. I leaped to my feet, watching Guro and wondering if I should pull my swords.

“Something is coming,” Guro said, just as a dark shadow slid across the window outside, peering in. It was lean, too lean for a human, with long thin arms and a featureless black body like a spill of living ink. Two bulbous glowing eyes stared out of the dark mass, pupil-less gaze fixed on us all. It raked long fingers down the glass, and my blood turned to ice.

The Forgotten were here.


CHAPTER SEVEN (#ulink_ce10aee0-69d9-5347-a1e2-cad6428e2559)

AGAINST THE FORGOTTEN






With a curse, I drew my blades, as a second Forgotten moved across the window, a black blur against the glass. Panic fluttered inside, and I shoved it down. Guro didn’t have the Sight; he couldn’t see the Forgotten like Kenzie and I could. If these were human invaders, I’d almost feel sorry for them, but how could you fight something you couldn’t see?

“Guro,” I said, as he glanced at me sharply, “the Forgotten are here. Er, faeries that are after Kenzie and me. Do you have a back door? If we leave now, we might be able to lead them away.”

His eyes narrowed. “How many?” he asked in a lethal voice.

“Uh...” I glanced at the window. Three Forgotten pressed against the glass now, and another two scuttled past the window beside it. “I don’t know, exactly. At least five, maybe more.”

A high-pitched screech interrupted us, setting my teeth on edge. A Forgotten glaring in the window raked its claws down the glass, leaving four long, thin gashes behind. Razor screeched in return, baring his fangs, and Kenzie cringed back in fear. Guro shot a look at the window, at the white scratches made by invisible claws, and whirled from the room.

“This way,” he ordered. “Follow me.”

We followed Guro through the kitchen and paused as he opened a single wooden door on the opposite wall. A set of stairs led down into what I assumed was a basement, and Guro motioned us through. “In here, quickly.”

I went down the steps, Kenzie close behind. The bottom of the stairwell opened into a large room with cement walls and floors. It was dark down here, the shadows clinging to the walls and hiding everything from view, until Guro flipped on the light.

My eyes widened. The space in the center of the floor was clear, but the walls were covered with weapons. Crossed swords, knives, clubs, wooden rattan sticks, a couple machetes and tomahawks, all hung in pairs around the room, glimmering wickedly in the fluorescent lights. A tire dummy sat in one corner of the room, a heavy bag in the other, and a couple wooden stands with padded coats and helmets stood at the back. One entire wall had pairs of traditional Filipino short swords—the kris, gayang and kalis were a few I knew by name—hanging beneath a crest that read Weapons of Moroland.

“Okay,” I almost gasped, “I’ll admit it. I’m a little terrified.”

Guro stalked to the back wall, where a pair of swords hung, isolated from everything else. I recognized them as his personal blades, his family’s swords, passed down from his father and grandfather before him. They were shorter than mine but no less lethal, a pair of razor-edged barong that were probably several decades older than I was.

“Ethan!”

Kenzie’s frightened cry rang behind me. I whirled to see a solid flood of Forgotten stream through the door and scuttle down the stairs, climbing along the walls and ceiling like huge black spiders.

“Guro!” I called, as one spindly shadow dropped from the ceiling and lunged at me. “They’re here!”

I dodged back as the faery’s long, thin claws barely missed my shirt, and lashed out with one of my blades. It struck the thing’s neck, biting deep, and the Forgotten didn’t make a sound as it writhed into tendrils of darkness and disappeared. Another leaped in, slashing at me, and I hacked through its arm before backing away.

The Forgotten hissed and drew back, melting into a crowd of its brethren. As I raised my swords, a chill crawled up my spine. The Forgotten had surrounded three sides of the room. Guro, Kenzie and I stood near the back wall, a semicircle of solid black glaring at us with baleful yellow eyes.

“Kenzie,” I panted, “get back. Try to stay between me and Guro.” Though I didn’t know how my mentor was going to fight them. There were an awful lot of Forgotten down here, and they were invisible to normal eyes. Unless Guro had somehow gotten the Sight, which I doubted, most of the fighting was going to be up to me. “If you see an opening,” I continued, not daring to look back at the girl, “run. Get out however you can, and don’t wait for me. I’ll catch up.”

“Screw that,” Kenzie snapped, and I heard the frantic zip of her bag opening. “I’m sure as hell not leaving you, Ethan. you should know that by now. Just keep them back for a few seconds.”

The Forgotten edged forward, silent and deadly, preparing to attack. Guro stood next to me, the barongs held loosely at his sides. I snuck a glance at him and saw that his eyes were closed.

Like a flood of black water, the Forgotten surged forward.

Before I could react, Guro leaped past me into the midst of the attackers, both swords spinning through the air. They moved like helicopter blades, blurred and almost too fast to see, whirling and slashing around him. They cut through the ranks of fey like a thresher through wheat, and clouds of darkness erupted around Guro as the Forgotten fell before the relentless assault.

Hissing, they drew back, rallied and lunged forward again, claws and talons raking the air. I kicked myself out of my shocked trance and threw myself into the chaos, lunging beside the whirling dervish of death, adding my own swords to the fray. Forgotten shrieked in fury, falling back to avoid the steel, trying to pounce on me from behind. I stood back to back with Guro, fending off attacks, not thinking of anything but keeping my arms moving, reacting to the dark blurs of shadow clawing at me from every side.

“Ethan, above you!” Kenzie’s voice rang out from somewhere beyond the mass of Forgotten. I stepped back, whipping my sword up, and sliced through a Forgotten dropping toward me from the ceiling. I caught a split-second glance of Guro, surrounded by Forgotten, his swords moving so fast they were a blur. His eyes were still closed as he spun and whirled his blades around him, driving the faeries back.

“Ethan, Guro!” Kenzie called out again. “This way! Back to the corner, hurry!”

I didn’t dare look back to see what she was doing. Glancing at Guro, I started edging toward her voice, falling back before the relentless press of Forgotten. They hissed and slashed at us, still crowding in from all sides, and my arms started to burn from constantly swinging my blades. One of the Forgotten hit my arm, claws tearing through my forearm and sending a spatter of blood to the cement floor. I barely felt the wound, though I knew it was going to hurt like hell when this was done. If they didn’t tear me to pieces before then.

And then, as we backed into the corner with Kenzie, still fending them off with our blades, the press of Forgotten just...stopped. Like we had crossed some invisible barrier the Forgotten couldn’t pass. Panting, I looked down at my feet to see that a thick line of salt had been poured across the floor, boxing us in. The Forgotten hissed and crowded the other side of the salt line, glaring with sinister yellow eyes, but they couldn’t come any farther.

Slumping in relief, I looked at Kenzie. Her backpack sat open in the corner, and she held a huge canister of salt in both hands. Catching my gaze, she offered a wry grin.

“Part of the survival pack for the Nevernever,” she said, her voice shaking only slightly. “Item number one on the list—iron. Item number two—salt.” She gave a small shrug and put the canister on the floor by her pack. “I might not be able to swing a sword, but I can sling salt around like nobody’s business.”

Still keeping an eye on the Forgotten, I reached out with my uninjured arm and hugged her. She squeezed back, her heart thudding rapidly against mine. The black wall of Forgotten had gone silent again, standing motionless outside the circle. They didn’t look like they would move or go away anytime soon, but I’d worry about getting us out of here after I’d caught my breath.

Guro turned to us, dark eyes searching. “You are injured,” he said, and of course at that point, my arm started to throb with the reminder. I gritted my teeth and pulled back from Kenzie with a hiss of pain, looking at my arm. Four long, straight gashes were raked across my forearm, oozing blood down my skin and dripping to the floor.

Kenzie winced in sympathy. “Oh, Ethan. Hang on,” she said, and knelt by her pack, rummaging through the pockets. “Item number three,” she sighed, and pulled out a red-and-white plastic box, setting it on the ground. “First-aid kit.”

Guro loomed over us, sword in each hand, watching patiently, as I sat in the corner and Kenzie took care of my shredded arm. His dark eyes scanned the room beyond the salt barrier, and my heart leaped.

“Guro? Can you see them?”

“No,” Guro replied calmly, not taking his eyes from the room. “Not completely. I can see...flashes. Glimpses from the corner of my eye, like dark shadows. But they disappear when I look at them directly.”

“Is that why you closed your eyes?”

He glanced down at me. “What have I told you before, Ethan?” he asked softly. “Your eyes are not your only senses in a fight. I do not need to see my opponent to know where he is.”

“Damn,” I breathed, shaking my head. My respect for my instructor had just turned into terrified awe. If I ever got out of here, I would never miss a class again.

“How many are left?” Guro asked, going back to scanning the room.

“Um.” I clenched my jaw as Kenzie tightened the gauze around my arm and clinched it shut. I stared at the Forgotten, trying to get a head count. It was hard. They were just black blobs of shadow that melted into each other. If it wasn’t for their glowing yellow eyes, it would be impossible. “Hard to say. Maybe a dozen?”

“Fourteen,” Kenzie said quietly. Snapping the first-aid kit shut, she slid it into her pack and hefted the bag to her shoulders. Razor bounced to her shoulder as she stood, holding a hand out to me. “So, the question is,” she continued, as I grabbed her wrist, and she pulled me upright, “how do we get out of here?”

I eyed the Forgotten over the salt line and narrowed my eyes. “I could always smack them from this side of the barrier, I guess.”

As one, the Forgotten drew back. Just a few steps, but just out of reach of my swords. Kenzie grimaced.

“They do understand us, Ethan. Maybe you could try talking to them?”

I glared at the Forgotten, and as I did, one of the shadowy forms eased closer to the edge of the salt barrier. I raised my sword and stepped in front of Kenzie, as the Forgotten stared back with its empty gold eyes.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“You,” the Forgotten whispered, its raspy voice making my skin crawl. “We want you, Ethan Chase. Your life. Your blood. You.”

“Sorry, you already got both a few months ago.” I sneered at the Forgotten, as if dying was something I did every day. No big deal. “And I don’t really feel like doing that again. You can go back and tell the Lady she only gets to kill me once.”

“Not the Lady,” the Forgotten hissed. “She did not send us here.”

Not the Lady? “Then, who—”

The answer hit me like a slap, and I stared at the Forgotten in growing rage and horror. “Keirran,” I said, as Kenzie gasped and Razor gave a disbelieving “Master?” from beneath her hair. “Keirran sent you after me?”

“Yes,” whispered the Forgotten, and pointed at me with a long, sharp finger. “He wants you, Ethan Chase. You have the disturbing habit of not dying when you are supposed to, and the Iron Prince will take no more chances. You will not interfere with the Lady’s plans. Surrender now, and the others may go. We have no interest in the other mortals. But you must come with us.”

My arms shook, and I didn’t know if it was from shock or a blinding, absolute fury. Not that Keirran really wanted me dead, but that he’d sent minions to finish the job. He couldn’t even be bothered to face me himself. Just further proof that the Iron Prince, the Keirran I used to know, was gone. “Yeah?” I challenged, feeling the cold spread through my whole body. “And how do you expect to do that, with us on this side of the barrier?”

“You cannot stay there forever,” hissed the Forgotten. “Sooner or later, you must come out. You are only mortal.” It eased back, into the crowd of its brethren. “We can be patient, Ethan Chase.”

“Dammit,” I muttered, and turned away from the Forgotten, feeling desperation rise up to mingle with the fear and rage. They were right; we couldn’t stay here forever, especially with Guro’s family still out there. His wife and little girl could come home at any minute, and my blood chilled at what might happen to them. “Fine,” I growled, raising both my swords again. “You really want me that bad, huh?” The Forgotten shifted eagerly, ready to attack as soon as I crossed the barrier, and I smiled grimly.

“Kenzie, stay back,” I said, stepping to the edge of the circle. She made an angry, impatient sound, but at least she didn’t protest. “Guro,” I went on without turning around, “I’m sorry for the trouble this has brought you. You don’t have to do anything. They’re here for me.” Though I doubted my master would stay back and let me face the Forgotten alone.

As expected, Guro silently moved beside me, raising his swords, and it might’ve been my imagination, but the crowd of Forgotten seemed to flinch as he came close.

“Wait!” And Kenzie lunged beside us, glaring fiercely as the Forgotten pressed close. She raised both hands, the large, now open canister of salt between them, and flung the contents in a wide arc before us.

The Forgotten screamed as the salt hit them, flinching back and covering their eyes and faces. They staggered away, tendrils of black curling from their bodies like smoke, and a hole opened up through the mob.

“Go!” Kenzie cried, and darted forward, slinging more salt and forcing the faeries back. Jolted into action, I raced after her, Guro right behind me. We hit the steps without being clawed to pieces, bounded up the stairwell into the kitchen, and slammed the door behind us.

Heart racing, I whirled, ready for the dark flood that would come from below, but Kenzie was already pouring the last grains of the salt over the threshold. As she did, a long black arm slid beneath the crack in the door, slashing at her and making my stomach lodge in my throat. Kenzie flinched back but finished dumping the last of the salt across the door frame, and the arm dissolved into black mist and writhed away into nothingness.

“There.” Shaking, Kenzie rose and quickly stepped back, while Razor buzzed and hissed from her shoulder, shaking a tiny fist at the door. “That should buy us some time, at least. Everyone okay?”

“Yeah,” I gasped, looking at Guro. “We should go,” I told him, backing toward the door. I wished I could’ve stayed, talked to him a little more. I still had so many questions and so many things I wanted to explain. Who knew if I’d get another chance? But as usual, when involved with Faery madness, the best thing I could do for anyone was to stay far, far away. “Thank you again, Guro. For everything.”

“Wait,” Guro ordered, and stalked to the kitchen table, grabbing a pair of keys and a cell phone off the surface. “I’ll drive you somewhere safe,” he said, turning back to us. “Do you have somewhere you can go, somewhere these creatures won’t follow?”




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