Home > The Iron Traitor (The Iron Fey: Call of the Forgotten #2)(50)

The Iron Traitor (The Iron Fey: Call of the Forgotten #2)(50)
Author: Julie Kagawa

“There is no way to destroy the Veil,” Keirran said flatly.

“Oh, my dear prince,” the Lady whispered. “You and the courts are not as old as I. You have forgotten the way to tear it apart. It has never been done before, because the catalyst has not been born into this world...until now.”

“Catalyst?” I didn’t like where this was going. My heart was pounding against my ribs, and a cold chill was creeping up my back. I looked at Keirran, wondering if we could get out of here, but he stood unmoving in the Lady’s shadow, his eyes blank.

The Lady’s voice went low, soft and terrifying. “To tear the Veil asunder,” she crooned, as if reciting something from memory, “on the night of the full moon, one must stand at the site of an ancient power and sacrifice the life of a mortal with the Sight, one who is bound by blood to all courts of Faery. Kin to Summer, Winter and now Iron. With this sacrifice, the Veil will lift, and mortals will be able to see the hidden world, by the blood of the One. Sibling, brother-in-law...” She looked right at me with depthless black eyes. “Uncle.”

No. My hands were shaking, and I took a staggering step back, looking around. The Forgotten were closing in on us, stepping across the toadstools into the circle, glowing eyes fastened on me. My stomach turned. Me. They wanted me. I was the sacrifice. The mortal whose blood tied him to all three courts. The one who would usher in an age of madness and chaos and terror, when all humans suddenly realized the fey were real.

Screw that.

I drew my swords with a raspy screech as Keirran did the same. I whirled to face the horde, standing back-to-back with Keirran, as the Forgotten glided closer. So many of them. But I wasn’t going down without a fight.

“Ethan Chase.” From the corner of my eye, I saw that the Lady had drifted back. “I must apologize to you once more. I am saddened that you must die for the rest of us to live, but know that your sacrifice will save thousands of lives. The fey will no longer live in fear. Exiles, Forgotten, even the Nevernever...we will all live on because of you.”

The Forgotten were nearly on us, a silent, deadly swarm, and the Lady’s words had faded into jumbled background noise. “Keirran,” I muttered, reaching for that calm, that eerie peace I got right before battle. The Iron Prince stood rigid at my back, not moving a muscle. “What’s it look like on your side? Can we fight our way through?”

“Ethan?”

His voice was strange, almost choked. A shiver went through him, and I glanced back, frowning. “What?”

“I’m sorry.”

He turned, just as I did, and ran me through with his sword.

Sound cut out. Movement faded around us. My mouth gaped open, but nothing escaped but a strangled gasp. Keirran, standing very close, stared over my shoulder, one arm around my neck, the other near my gut. I looked down to see his hand gripping the sword hilt, held flush against my stomach.

No. This...couldn’t be real; the blade didn’t even hurt that much. I looked up at Keirran, still staring at the horizon over my shoulder, and tried to say something. But my voice was frozen inside me.

“Keir...ran.” Even that was excruciatingly difficult, and a warm stream of blood ran down my neck from my mouth. “Why?” Keirran closed his eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered and ripped the blade from my stomach. That brought on the pain I knew I should be feeling, a blaze of agony erupting from my middle, like the ribbons of blood arching into the air. I grabbed my stomach, feeling warmth spill over my fingers, making them slick. I glanced down to see my hands completely covered in red.

This isn’t happening. The ground swayed beneath me. I fell to my knees, seeing blackness crawl along the edge of my vision. Looking up, I saw Keirran gazing down on me, the Lady standing behind him. His face was tormented, but as I watched, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and when he opened them again, Keirran was gone. The cold stranger stared down at me, his face a mask of stone.

“Goodbye, Ethan,” he whispered, and the Lady put a hand on his shoulder and turned him away. I tried calling out, but the world tilted, and I collapsed, seeing only a skewed view of the distant horizon, shrinking rapidly at the end of a tunnel. Somewhere far away, I thought I heard hoofbeats, a faint rumble getting steadily closer.

Then the tunnel closed, the blackness flooded in and I knew nothing more.

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