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

The Iron Traitor (The Iron Fey: Call of the Forgotten #2) Page 36

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.”

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?”