Home > The Iron Traitor (The Iron Fey: Call of the Forgotten #2)(33)

The Iron Traitor (The Iron Fey: Call of the Forgotten #2)(33)
Author: Julie Kagawa

Keirran sighed. “I would take you through the trod in the occult shop,” he said. “But it’s too far away and the hag that owns it doesn’t like gremlins.” Razor hissed, almost sounding offended. “This one will get us into the Nevernever just as easily. The house is rumored to be haunted, though, so be careful.”

“Why?” Kenzie asked as we slipped through the gap in the fence, squeezing under the rusty chains wrapped around the gate. “Don’t tell me it really is haunted.” Her tone was excited as she followed us up the walk. “Are there real ghosts inside?”

“No,” Keirran said, looking back with a smile. “But there are a couple bogeys living here, and they make certain that all the neighborhood kids know the house is haunted. All that glamour, all that fear and suspicion, is what keeps the trod alive. So, if you see a spoon or a flowerpot or anything floating around, don’t panic. They’ve gotten really good at playing poltergeist.”

“Great,” I muttered, easing up the steps. Yellow tape had been stretched across the entrance, and the front windows were broken and jagged. I nudged the door with one of my blades; it creaked and swung open with an appropriate, hair-raising groan, and the room beyond was dark, musty and full of shadows. “I swear,” I muttered, hoping the resident “ghosts” were listening, “if anything jumps out and grabs me, it’s going to be stab first, ask questions later.”

Kenzie giggled. “I bet you’re fun at Halloween parties,” she mused as Keirran ducked beneath the yellow tape and stepped into the house. Giving her a dark look, I raised my swords and followed.

Inside, the rooms smelled of dust, mold and ancient plaster, and the floorboards groaned ominously beneath my shoes. Keirran moved across the dilapidated entryway as lightly as a cat, then beckoned us toward a big wooden staircase at the back of the room. The steps, ascending into the darkness, were old and rotten and didn’t look very stable.

“The trod to the Nevernever is upstairs,” he murmured, his voice unnaturally loud in the gloom. On his shoulder, Razor’s huge green eyes and neon blue teeth cast eerie shadows on the walls as the gremlin growled and buzzed warily, looking around. “Be careful, though. The bogeys don’t really like people venturing upstairs. Not many get this far.”

“Kenzie,” I called, holding a hand to her, “you go after Keirran. I’ll be right behind you.” That way, if something nasty waited for us up top, Keirran would deal with it, and I’d take care of anything wanting to jump us from behind.

Carefully, we started up the stairs, which groaned and creaked under my weight and felt rotten as hell under my feet. I kept my steps as light as I could and hoped the whole thing wouldn’t collapse beneath us.

In the center of the staircase, however, Keirran stopped. Kenzie pulled up behind him, and I nearly walked into her, catching myself on the railing. “Hey!” I whispered, peering up at the head of our little train. “Keirran, what are you... Oh.”

Something crouched at the top of the steps, nearly invisible in the darkness. Something wispy and black, as dark as the shadows themselves. But its huge yellow eyes peered down at us, easily visible in the gloom.

I looked behind me and saw three more of the creatures crowding the foot of the stairs, gazing up at us. Forgotten, inky and black, melting into the shadows and gloom surrounding us. They didn’t press forward, though. Just watched silently from the bottom of the steps, like the time in Mr. Dust’s office. Waiting.

“What do you want?” Keirran asked, his voice stony but calm, facing the single Forgotten at the top of the stairs. “What did you do to the fey who lived here? By order of your Lady, you aren’t supposed to harm any more exiles.”

“We have not,” whispered the thing crouched before the prince. I couldn’t even see a mouth on it, just flat, empty darkness and shadow. “The bogeys fled at the sight of us. They are no longer here. We did not drain their glamour. We have not killed a single exile or half-breed since the time you left the Lady’s presence.”

“Good,” Keirran replied in that same flat, cold voice. “But what do you want with us?”

“The Lady wishes to see you, Iron Prince. Now.”

“Now is not a good time.”

The Forgotten made a hissing noise. “You swore, Iron Prince,” it reminded him. “You swore to return to her if she called for you. That was the bargain for the exiles’ lives. We have upheld our end of the deal, at great cost. You must honor your word and return to the Lady.”

“I will,” Keirran replied. “But I also said I would return to her of my own free will. As a guest, not as a prisoner. If you’re here to drag me back, I’m afraid I cannot go with you.” His voice remained polite, but the air around him chilled and frost crept over the railing, making the Forgotten draw back. “I have something important to take care of first,” Keirran went on. “Tell the Lady that when it’s done, I’ll come to her. Not before.”

The Forgotten wasn’t pleased, but after a moment, it bowed its shadowy head. “As you wish, Prince Keirran,” it rasped, and the Forgotten below us slipped away into the darkness. “We will inform the Lady, but do not keep her waiting long. We will be waiting for you.”

It backed away, then glided along the wall and became one with the shadows before it disappeared.

“You’re not really thinking of going to see the Forgotten Queen, are you?” I asked as we continued up the steps. Keirran didn’t answer, and I scowled. “Hey, I know you can hear me, Prince.”

“I have to” was his quiet reply as we eased into a bedroom. An old bed stood in the corner next to a dresser, both rotting to pieces under a film of dust. Once-colorful wallpaper lined the room, moldy and peeling away. “I gave my word,” Keirran went on, picking his way over the floor and the broken remains of toys and picture books scattered around us. “I may be part human, but I don’t break my promises. If she wants to speak with me, I’ll listen. I didn’t promise anything more than that.” He stopped at the closet, putting his hand on the tarnished handle. “But it’s the least I can do. Especially since it’s our fault the Forgotten are here.”

“Wait,” Kenzie said before he could open the door. “I’m curious about that. The Thin Man said something to that effect, too. What did the Lady tell you? How is your family connected to all of this?”

Keirran’s gaze darkened. “That’s a long story,” he said softly. “And we don’t have time to discuss it now. When Annwyl is safe, I’ll tell you the whole thing, I promise.”

He opened the door and stepped through without looking back.

I took Kenzie’s hand. “Back into the Nevernever,” I groaned, and she squeezed my fingers in sympathy. “Are you ready for this?”

“Don’t worry about me, tough guy.” Kenzie grinned, her eyes sparkling. “I’ve been waiting for this ever since we got back. Oh, and if you see a dragon, be sure to point it out so I can go poke it with a stick.”

“You know, that would be funny if I wasn’t terrified you’d actually do it.”

She rolled her eyes, pulling me forward. “Come on, Ethan. We’ve already fought some of the nastiest things Faery has to offer. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Never say things like that, I thought as we crossed the threshold and slipped into the closet. The darkness surrounding us cleared, and we stumbled between a pair of gnarled trunks, into the familiar twilight of Faery.

Part III

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

BENEATH THE WATERFALL

We followed Keirran through the wyldwood for several hours, walking beneath huge dark trees that shut out the light, passing shocking flashes of color in an otherwise gray world. The Nevernever was just as strange, murky and dangerous as I remembered from my last trip. Which was only last week, I reminded myself. I wondered what my parents were doing, if I had really crossed the line with this last stunt. I was going to have to talk to them—again—when I got home. I couldn’t rely on Meghan to show up and give me a free pass whenever I went off into Faery. And by the looks of things, that was bound to happen more and more now. My days of hiding from the fey, of hoping they wouldn’t notice me, were over.

Strangely, that didn’t bother me as much as it should have.

I kept my swords out, scanning the trees constantly, ready to act against any nasty fey that tried to ambush us. Amazingly, our hike through the wyldwood was uneventful; except for a will-o’-the-wisp and a curious wood sprite that kept appearing in the branches overhead, I didn’t see any fey.

Night was beginning to fall, the eternal twilight of the wyldwood shifting into darkness, when Keirran led us down a twisty narrow path, beneath a silvery waterfall and into a small cave. The floor was covered in pale sand, and the ceiling glittered with millions of tiny lights, resembling the night sky.

“We’ll stop here for the night,” Keirran said as Razor hopped from his shoulder to roll about in the sand, buzzing. “I’d continue on, but pressing through the wyldwood in the dark is asking for trouble.”

“How far to the Summer Court?” I asked, finally sheathing my weapons. The cave was small and appeared uninhabited, no bones or blood spatters on the wall, at least. I guessed that was as safe as you could get in the Nevernever.

“Not far,” Keirran said. “We should reach it tomorrow. Provided we don’t run into any unforeseen problems.”

Unforeseen problems. Yeah, that still wasn’t likely. I was amazed we’d gotten this far without trouble. And when we did reach the Seelie Court, we would have to deal with our biggest challenge yet: convincing the infamously fickle Queen of the Summer Court to lift Annwyl’s exile and let her come home. I didn’t know how we were going to manage that. Frankly, Titania scared me. I knew the stories. I knew that one wrong word or action could get you turned into a rabbit, or a rosebush, or trapped in the Summer Court forever, dancing for the queen’s amusement. You did not screw around with the queens of Faery. In fact, the only other person I was less enthused about meeting in the entire Nevernever was Mab, the ruler of Winter. I only hoped Keirran had a convincing plan in mind.

Speaking of Keirran, he hadn’t said much through the entire hike. I knew he was concerned about Annwyl, and the amulet sucking away at his glamour was probably on his mind, too, but the flat, blank look in his eyes worried me. He stood at the entrance of the cave now, his back to us, gazing through the falling water.

“Hey,” I said, walking up to him. He turned, looking very tired, and I tapped his shoulder in encouragement. “She’ll be fine,” I said. “We’re almost to the Seelie Court. You’ll just have to convince Titania that it’s in her best interests to raise Annwyl’s exile. I’m sure you can agree on something, right?”

Keirran gave a faint smile. “Titania...doesn’t like me very much,” he admitted. “Well, at all, really. She’s always hated Mom and barely tolerates me when I visit Arcadia. I’m sure the queen will be ecstatic when I come begging her for a favor. She’ll finally have me right where she wants—not even Oberon will be able to help.” He winced, then gave me a grave look. “Ethan, the price Titania will demand of me is going to be very high. You don’t have to come. I don’t want to drag you and Kenzie into this. You can go home if you want.... I won’t hold it against you.”

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