Panting, the Thin Man reappeared at the edge of the glade, visible to all of us. A shimmery, wet stain marred one shoulder, and his face was twisted with pain and fury. “This is not over,” he warned, raising a thin, bloody finger. “You cannot hide from me. I will find you, and I will put an end to this madness once and for all.” His pale gaze shifted to me. “Time is running out, Ethan Chase. For all of us.”
He disappeared again, but this time, we knew he wouldn’t be back.
For now.
* * *
“Ouch,” Keirran said several minutes later, seated on a log while being fussed over by Annwyl. She gave him an exasperated look and went back to binding his shoulder. The stab wound looked pretty deep, but the prince hadn’t seemed to notice until Annwyl forcibly sat him down, ordered Razor onto a tree branch and pulled up his sleeve. Kenzie had already examined the throbbing red welts on my arm and back, which were extremely painful but not very deep. I was going to need a new shirt soon, though, as this one was getting pretty shredded.
My mind was awhirl with questions, the thing with the amulet being front and center. When Annwyl had used her glamour, Keirran’s life was drained. Of course, I’d known about the consequences; Guro had made very certain we all understood. But seeing it happen right in front of me made it much more real.
Then there was Kenzie and that weird shadow-thing that had appeared again to protect her. By now, I had figured out that it came from Guro’s protection amulet, which only cast more questions on my mentor. Who was Guro Javier, this man who could see spirits and create powerful magical artifacts, both positive and extremely malevolent? Why hadn’t I ever known this side of him?
And of course, looming over me like a black cloud, the knowledge of where we had to go next. Back into the Nevernever, to the Seelie Court, to find an infamous faery queen and convince her to let Annwyl return home.
“Ouch,” Keirran said again, pulling away as Annwyl did something to his shoulder. Razor buzzed worriedly and peered down from the branch. “Annwyl,” the prince said, “not that I’m complaining, but what are you doing?”
The Summer faery didn’t look up from her task. “This was your answer, Keirran?” she asked, a quiet anger beneath the soft tone. “Killing yourself to keep me alive? Did you think I would be happy with that choice?”
“Annwyl...”
She didn’t look at him. “This...thing around my neck...it feels wrong. Hateful. I can feel it clawing at you. Sucking out your magic. Just like they did to me.” She shivered, tugging the last of the bandages tight before stepping away. “I don’t want this, Keirran,” she whispered, closing her eyes. “I don’t want you to die for me.”
“I’m not going to die.” Keirran pushed himself to his feet and reached for her. She didn’t move, but she didn’t raise her head as he gently took her arms, pulling her forward. “Annwyl, look at me. Please.
“This is just a temporary solution,” he promised, when Annwyl finally glanced up at him. “I had to find something to halt the Fade, just long enough for us to find Titania. Now we have a real course of action. We’ll go speak to the Summer Queen, get your exile lifted, and then we can destroy that thing and not look back. And you can go home.” One hand rose, and he brushed her cheek with his knuckles. “I know you’ve wanted to go back to Arcadia for a long time now. Let me try to make this right.”
Annwyl took his hand, holding it to her face. “If I return to the Summer Court, Keirran, we can’t be together. The law still stands, and a relationship between courts is still forbidden. I wouldn’t be able to see you again.”
“I know,” he said. “But to know you’re alive...that’s more important.” He swallowed and continued in a pained voice, “I told you before—I can let you go if I know you’re all right. That somewhere in the Seelie Court, you’re still out there, dancing with your sisters, singing with the wood nymphs, directing undines to attack hapless princes.” Annwyl blushed, and Keirran smiled, dropping his head to hers. “I love you, Annwyl,” he murmured as the Summer girl gave a muffled sob and leaned into him. “I will do anything to see you safe. Even if it means letting you go.”
My face was burning, but the two faeries seemed to have forgotten I existed. Without a word, Kenzie took my hand and pulled me away, giving them some privacy. Except for Razor, chattering at Keirran from the branch.
“I hope things work out for them,” Kenzie said, leaning back against me and resting her head on my chest. I snaked my arms around her waist and held her to me, enjoying the feel of her body against mine. “It must suck, knowing you can’t be together just because the faery courts say so. Why are they like that, anyway? Why do they even care?”
“From what I understand,” I said, “they believe that cross-court relationships will have disastrous results for Faery later on. That the consequences of such forbidden love will be dire, for everyone.”
“Lame,” Kenzie stated, unimpressed. “What about your sister?” she asked, and my insides jumped at the mention of Meghan. “Keirran said his own parents defied those laws, right? It seemed to have worked out for them. No disastrous consequences there.”
“I don’t know,” I said softly as a cold, terrible thought entered my mind. I looked toward the place Keirran and Annwyl stood, seeing Keirran’s bright form through the trees, and shivered. “Maybe there were.”
* * *
We had to say goodbye to Annwyl before we crossed into the Nevernever. Keirran was reluctant, of course, but there was nothing else to be done. She couldn’t return to Faery unless her exile was raised, which was the reason we were going there in the first place. She decided to return to Leanansidhe’s, stating that the Exile Queen’s mansion was the safest place for her now. Keirran insisted we escort her to the trod that would take her back to Leanansidhe’s home in the Between, which meant we had to return to the little park a few blocks from my house, clear across town. But with Keirran’s newfound talent, we slipped back into the Between, and only a few minutes passed before he parted the misty curtain of the Veil and we stepped through the gap into the park.
The old slide sat next to the peeling monkey bars, bent and unremarkable. As we approached, Razor sniffled from Keirran’s shoulder, mumbling “no leave, no leave” to himself sadly. The prince raised his arm, and the gremlin hopped to the monkey bars, looking despondent.
Keirran drew Annwyl close, stroking her hair. “Be safe,” he whispered. “We’ll get to Arcadia and speak to the queen as soon as we can. When you see me again, hopefully it will be in the Summer Court.”
Annwyl smiled up at him sadly. “I love you, Keirran,” she murmured, making his breath catch. “If this is the last time we can see each other without fear and laws and threats of punishment, I want you to know. From the day you pulled yourself out of that frozen river, I have been completely yours. Even if I return to Summer, and the courts dictate that we never meet again, know that I will always love you, and you will always be in my thoughts.”
He kissed her. Fiercely, passionately, as if this might truly be their last time. Maybe it was. Faery law was rigid and uncompromising, unchanged for centuries. Meghan had struggled with it, as had Ash, before they finally found the one loophole that allowed them to be together. If anyone else could get around those laws, find the loophole that allowed him to be with the one he loved, I was pretty sure it would be Keirran. Like father, like son.
The only question was, at what cost? How far would he really go?
Annwyl drew away, her eyes glassy. Breaking from Keirran’s embrace, she backed to the old slide, pausing in the space between the steps and the frame, her gaze only on the prince.
“Goodbye, Prince Keirran,” the Summer faery said as Razor buzzed and waved frantically from the monkey bars. Keirran remained where he was, watching her sadly as her gaze shifted to me. “Ethan, Kenzie, I am forever grateful for your help. Please, watch out for each other in the Nevernever. I truly hope we will meet again someday.”
“Noooo,” Razor buzzed, bouncing on the monkey bars, huge ears flapping. “No leave, pretty elf girl. No leave!”
She smiled at him. “Razor, I hope to see you again, too. Take care of Keirran, all right?”
“Annwyl,” Keirran called as she turned away. “Promise me you’ll wait,” he said softly as she looked back. “No matter what happens, no matter what that amulet is telling you, promise you’ll wait until I return. I swear, as long as I have the breath to keep going, I’m going to find a way for you to live. So, please,” he finished, locking eyes with her. “Will you wait for me?”
Annwyl bowed her head. “Always,” she whispered and disappeared, slipping through the trod that would take her back to the Exile Queen.
Keirran sighed, gazing at the spot where the Summer faery had disappeared. Then, abruptly, he drew his sword. Marching over to the slide, he brought his weapon down in a vicious arc, smashing it into the top and tearing sideways. The blade sheared through poles, steps and slide with a deafening screech, making my teeth hurt and causing sparks to fly everywhere. The slide shuddered, then collapsed into a pile of twisted pipes and aluminum, and Razor howled with glee atop the monkey bars.
Kenzie and I gaped at the prince. “What the hell was that about?” I demanded as Keirran sheathed his weapon, looking grim.
“I destroyed the trod to Leanansidhe’s,” he said, as if that was obvious. “Now nothing can follow her back from here. Just in case our thin friend is lurking around.”
“That’s a little extreme, don’t you think?” I asked, looking down at the mangled pile of metal that was once a slide. “You couldn’t have asked Annwyl to tell Leanansidhe to close the trod on her end?”
“Maybe.” Keirran shrugged, sounding unrepentant. “But I’m not taking any chances. Let’s go.”
“Where are we going now?” I asked, following him out of the park and down the familiar streets of my own neighborhood, keeping a wary eye out for an old blue Dodge Ram, my dad’s truck. If one happened to come cruising toward us down the road, that was my cue to jump into the bushes or behind a tree. Keirran didn’t look back.
“To the Summer Court,” he answered, as Razor swatted at a bug that zipped over his head. “That was the plan, right? We’re going to see Titania.”
“Yeah, but first we’ll need a trod to the Nevernever,” I replied. “I assume you just happen to know of one close by?”
“Actually—” Keirran grinned, looking back at us “—I do.”
“Close by” was a relative statement, and it was several streets and neighborhoods later when Keirran stopped us at an old, grass-strewn lot, a chain-link fence around the perimeter and a no-trespassing sign at the gate.
“Oh, sure,” I said from the edge of the lot, gazing over the weeds. “A condemned, abandoned house. That’s the first place I would look for a trod to Faeryland.”