The Lost Prince (25 page)

“Who are you?” Keirran demanded, and raised his sword, pointing it at the nearest cat-thing. On his shoulder, Razor growled and buzzed at the faeries, baring his teeth. “What did you do to the exiles here?”

The cat-fey hissed and drew back at the sight of the iron weapon. “Not human,” rasped the other behind us. “The bright one is not completely human. I can feel his glamour. He is strong.” She growled, taking a step forward. “We should bring him to the lady.”

I raised my sticks and eased back, closer to Keirran, trapping Kenzie between us. She glanced around wildly, trying to see the invisible threats, but it was obvious that she didn’t even hear them.

The second cat-thing blinked slowly, running a tongue along her thin mouth. “Yes,” she agreed, flexing her nails. “We will bring the half-breed to the lady, but it would be a shame to waste all that lovely glamour. Perhaps we will just take a little.”

Her mouth opened, stretching impossibly wide, a gaping hole in her wrinkled face. I felt a ripple around us, a pulling sensation, as if the cat-fey was sucking the air into itself. I braced myself for something nasty, pressing close to Kenzie, but except for a faint sluggish feeling, nothing happened.

But Keirran staggered and fell to one knee, putting a hand against the booth to catch himself. As I stared, he seemed to fade a bit, his brightness getting dimmer, the color leeched from his hair and clothes. Razor screeched and flickered from sight, going in and out like a bad television station. The other faery cackled, and I glared at it, torn between helping Keirran and protecting the girl.

Suddenly, the cat-thing choked, convulsed and hurled itself back from Keirran. “Poison!” she screeched, gagging and heaving, as if she wanted to cough up a hairball. “Poison! Murder!” She spasmed again, curling in on herself as her body began to break apart, to dissolve like sugar in water. “Iron!” she wailed, clawing at the ground, at herself, her beady eyes wild. “He’s an Iron abomination! Kill him, sister! Kill them all!”

She vanished then, blowing away in the breeze, as the other cat-thing screamed its fury and pounced.

I brought my rattan down, smashing it over the faery’s skull, then sliding away to land a few solid blows on its shoulder. It screeched in pain and whirled on me, favoring its right leg. “So, you’re real enough to hit, after all.” I grinned. Snarling, it lunged, clawing at me, and I sidestepped again, angling out like Guro had taught me, whipping my rattan several times across the wizened face.

Shaking its head, the faery backed up, hissing furiously, one eye squeezed shut. Pale, silvery blood dripped from its mouth and jaw, writhing away as soon as it touched the ground. I twirled my sticks and stepped closer, forcing it back. Kenzie had retreated a few steps and was crouched next to Keirran; I could hear her asking if he was all right, and his quiet assurance that he was fine.

“Boy,” the cat-faery hissed, her lips pulled back in a snarl of hate, “you will pay for this. You all will. When we return, there will be nothing that will save you from our wrath.”

Turning, the cat-thing bounded into the darkness between the stalls and vanished from sight.

I breathed a sigh of relief and turned to Keirran, who was struggling upright, one hand still on the booth wall. Razor made angry, garbled noises on his shoulder, punctuated with the words “Bad kitty!”

“You okay?” I asked, and he nodded wearily. “What just happened there?”

“I don’t know.” He gave Kenzie a grateful smile and took a step forward, standing on his own. “When that thing turned on me, it felt like everything—my strength, my emotions, even my memory—was being sucked out. It was…awful.” He shuddered, rubbing a forearm. “I feel like there are pieces of me missing now, and I’ll never get them back.”

I remembered the dead piskie, the way she’d looked right before she died, like all her color had been drained away. “It was draining your magic,” I said, and Keirran nodded. “So, these things, whatever they are, they eat the glamour of regular fey, suck them dry until there’s nothing left.”

“Like vampires,” Kenzie put in. “Vampire fey that hunt their own kind.” She wrinkled her nose. “That’s creepy. Why would they do that?”

I shook my head. “I have no idea.”

“It got more than it bargained for, though,” Keirran went on, gazing at the spot where the cat-faery had died. “Whatever they are, it looks like they’re still deathly allergic to iron.”

“So they’re not Iron fey, at least.”

“No.” Keirran shivered and dropped his hands. “Though I have no idea
what
they are.”

“Keirran!”

The shout echoed down the rows, making Keirran jerk his head up, hope flaring in his eyes. A moment later, a willowy girl in a green-and-brown dress turned a corner and sprinted toward us. Keirran smiled, and Razor gave a welcoming buzz, waving his arms.

I tensed. The girl was fey, I could see that easily. The tips of her ears peeked up through her golden-brown hair, which was braided with vines and flowers and hung several inches past her waist. She had that unnatural grace of all fey, that perfect beauty where it was tempting to stare at her and completely forget to eat, sleep, breathe or anything else.

Keirran stepped forward, forgetting Kenzie and me completely, his eyes only for the faery approaching us. The fey girl halted just shy of touching him, as if she’d intended to fling herself into his arms but thought better of it at the last moment.

“Annwyl.” Keirran hesitated, as if he, too, wanted to pull her close, only to decide against it. His gaze never left the Summer faery, though, and she didn’t seem to notice the two humans standing behind him.

There was a moment of awkward silence, broken only by Razor, chattering on Keirran’s shoulder, before the faery girl shook her head.

“You shouldn’t be here, Keirran,” she said, her voice lilting and soft, like water over a rock bed. “It’s going to get you in trouble. Why did you come?”

“I heard what was happening in the mortal realm,” Keirran replied, stepping forward and reaching for her hand. “I heard the rumor that something is out here, killing off exiles and half-breeds.” His other hand rose as if to brush her cheek. “I had to come see you, to make sure you were all right.”

Annwyl hesitated. Longing showed on her face, but she stepped back before Keirran could touch her. His eyes closed, briefly, and he let his arm drop. “You shouldn’t be here,” the girl insisted. “It isn’t safe, especially now. There are…creatures.”

“We saw,” Keirran replied, and Annwyl gave him a frightened look. His gaze hardened, ice-blue eyes glinting dangerously. “Those things,” he went on. “Is
she
aware of them? Is that why the market has been disbanded?”

The fey girl nodded. “She knows you’re here,” she replied in her soft, rippling voice. “She’s waiting for you. I’m supposed to bring you to her. But…”

Her gaze finally slid to mine, and the large, moss-green eyes widened. “You brought mortals here?” she asked, sounding confused. “Who…?”

“Ah. Yes, where are my manners?” Keirran glanced back, as well, as if just remembering us. “I’m sorry. Ethan, this is Annwyl, formerly of the Summer Court. Annwyl, may I introduce…Ethan Chase.”

The faery gasped. “Chase? The queen’s brother?”

“Yes,” Keirran said, and nodded to Kenzie. “Also, Kenzie St. James. They’re both friends of mine.”

I glanced at Keirran, surprised by the casual way he threw out the word
friends.
We’d only just met and were virtually strangers, but Keirran acted as if he’d known us far longer. But that was crazy; I’d never seen him before tonight.

Solemnly, the Summer faery pulled back and dropped into a deep curtsy, directed at me, I realized. “Don’t,” I muttered, waving it off. “I’m not a prince. You don’t have to do that with me.”

Annwyl blinked large, moss-green eyes. “But…you are,” she said in her rippling voice. “You’re the queen’s brother. Even if you’re not one of us, we—”

“I said it’s fine.” Briefly, I wondered what would happen if all faeries knew who I was. Would they treat me with respect and leave me alone? Or would my life get even more chaotic and dangerous, as they saw me as a weak link that could be exploited? I had a feeling it would be the latter. “I’m not anyone special,” I told the Summer girl, who still looked unconvinced. “Don’t treat me any different than you would Keirran.”

I couldn’t be sure, but I was almost positive Keirran hid a small grin behind Annwyl’s hair. The Summer girl blinked again, and seemed about to say something, when Kenzie spoke up.

“Um, Ethan? Sorry to be a normal human and all, but…who are we talking to?”

Keirran chuckled. “Oh, right.” To Annwyl, he said, “I’m afraid Mackenzie can’t see you right now. She’s only human.”

“What?” Annwyl glanced at Kenzie, and her eyes widened. “Oh, of course. Please excuse me.” A shiver went through the air around her, and Kenzie jumped as the faery girl materialized in front of us. “Is this better?”

Kenzie sighed. “I’ll never get used to that.”

The Summer faery smiled, but then her eyes darkened and she drew back. “Come,” she urged, glancing around the fairgrounds. “We can’t stay out here. It’s gotten dangerous.” Her gaze swept the aisles like a wary deer’s. “I’m supposed to bring you to the mistress. This way.”

We followed Annwyl across the dead amusement park, through the silent fairway, past the Ferris wheel, creaking softly in the wind, until we came to the House of Mirrors in the shadow of a wooden roller coaster. Walking past weird, distorted reflections of ourselves—fat, short, tall with gorillalike arms—we finally came to a narrow mirror in a shadowy corner, and Annwyl looked back at Keirran.

“It’s a bit…crowded,” she warned, her gaze flicking to me and Kenzie. “No one wants to be on this side of the Veil, not with those
things
out there.” She shuddered, and I saw Keirran wince, too. “Fair warning,” she continued, watching Keirran with undeniable affection. “The mistress is a little…cranky these days. She might not appreciate you showing up now, especially with two humans.”

“I’ll risk it,” Keirran said softly, holding her gaze. Annwyl smiled at him, then put her hand to the mirror in front of us. It shimmered, growing even more distorted, and the fey girl stepped through the glass, vanishing from sight.

Keirran looked at us and smiled. “After you.”

Taking Kenzie’s hand, I stepped through the shifting glass, and the real world faded behind us once more.

* * *

We stepped through the doorway into a dark, underground room, a basement maybe, or even a dungeon. The Summer girl beckoned us forward, down the shadowy halls. Torches flickered in brackets as we followed Annwyl down the damp corridors, and gargoyles watched us from stone columns, sneering as we went by.

Fey also walked these halls: boggarts and bogies and a couple of goblins, fey that preferred the dank and damp and shadows, avoiding the light. They eyed us with hungry curiosity, and Kenzie eyed them back, able to See again now that we were back in Faery. They kept their distance, though, and we walked up a flight of long wooden steps, where a pair of crimson doors perched at the top. Annwyl pushed them open.

Noise and light flooded the stairway. The doors opened into an enormous, red-walled foyer, and the foyer was filled with fey.

Faeries stood or sat on the carpeted floors, talking in low murmurs. Goblins muttered amongst themselves, clumped in small groups, glancing around warily. Brownies, satyrs and piskies hovered through the room, looking lost. A couple redcaps stood in a corner, baring their fangs at whoever got too close. One of them noticed me and nudged his companion, jerking his chin in our direction. The other grinned, running a pale tongue over his teeth, and I glared stonily back, daring it to try something. The redcap sneered, made a rude gesture, and went back to threatening the crowd.

More fey clustered along the walls, some of them standing guard over tables and boxes of weird stuff. In one corner, a faery in a white cloak straightened a stand of feather masks, while near the fireplace, a crooked hag plucked a skewer of mice from the flames and set it, still smoking, next to a plate of frogs and what looked like a cooked cat. The stench of burning fur drifted to me across the room, and Kenzie made a tiny gagging noise.

But even with all the weird, unearthly and dangerous faeries in the room, there was only one that really mattered.

In the center of all the chaos, a cigarette wand in one hand and a peeved look on her face, was the most striking faery I’d ever seen. Copper-gold hair floated around her like a mane, and a gown hugged her slender body, the long slit up the side showing impossibly graceful legs. She was tall, regal and obviously annoyed, for she kept pursing her lips and blowing blue smoke into snarling wolves that ripped each other to pieces as they thrashed through the air. A black-bearded dwarf stood beneath her glare, a wooden box sitting beside him. The box had been draped with a dark cloth, and growling, hissing noises came from within as it shook back and forth.

“I don’t care if the beast was already paid for, darling.” The faery’s high, clear voice rang out over the crowd. “You’re not keeping that thing here.” Her tone was hypnotic, exasperated as it was. “I will not have my human pets turned into stone because the Duchess of Thorns has an unnatural craving for cockatrice eggs.”

“Please.” The dwarf, held up his thick hands, pleading. “Leanansidhe, please, be reasonable.”

I sucked in a breath, and my blood turned to ice.

Leanansidhe?
Leanansidhe, the freaking Exile Queen? I leveled a piercing glare at Keirran, who offered a weak grin. Everyone in Faery knew who Leanansidhe was, myself included. Meghan had mentioned her name a few times, but beyond that, you couldn’t meet an exiled fey who hadn’t heard of the dangerous Dark Muse and wasn’t terrified of her.

“Get it out of my house, Feddic.” The Exile Queen pointed to the door we’d come through. “I don’t care what you do with it, but I want it gone. Or would you like to be barred from my home permanently? Take your chances with the life-sucking monsters out in the real world?”

“No!” The dwarf shrank back, eyes wide. “I’ll…I’ll get rid of it, Leanansidhe,” he stammered. “Right now.”