The Lost Prince (The Iron Fey: Call of the Forgotten #1)

The Lost Prince (The Iron Fey: Call of the Forgotten #1) Page 45

But more kept coming, scaling the walls, rushing us with arms raised. A cry behind us made me look back. Several gnomes stood in a loose circle around Kenzie and Annwyl. They weren’t attacking, but the faery’s hands were stretched toward the Summer girl, the horrible mouths opened wide. Annwyl had fallen to her hands and knees, her slender form fraying around the edges as if she was made of mist and the wind was blowing her away. Kenzie rushed forward and swung at one gnome, striking it in the shoulder. It turned with a hiss and grabbed the stick in both hands. There was a splintering crack, and the rattan shredded, breaking apart, as the faery’s teeth made short work of the wood.

“Annwyl!” Keirran turned back, rushing forward to defend the Summer girl and Kenzie, and in that moment of distraction a wrinkled, gnarled hand landed on my arm. Jagged teeth sank into my wrist, and I cried out, shaking my arm to dislodge it, but the thing clung to me like a leech, biting and chewing. Gritting my teeth, I slammed my arm into the wall several times, ignoring the burst of agony with every hit, and the gnome finally dropped away.

The gnomes pressed forward, sensing blood. My wrist and forearm were soaked red and felt as if I’d just stuck my arm into a meat grinder. As I staggered back, half-blind with pain, a big raven swooped down and landed on the wall across from me. And, maybe it was the delirium from the pain and loss of blood, but I was almost sure it winked.

There was a burst of cold from Keirran’s direction, and the bird took off. Several shrieks of pain showed the Iron prince was taking revenge for the Summer faery, but that didn’t really help me, backed against a wall, dripping blood all over the flagstones. I braced myself as the swarm tensed to attack.

“You really do meet the strangest people in New York,” called a new voice somewhere overhead.

I looked up. A lean figure stood atop one of the towers, arms crossed, gazing down with a smirk. He shook his head, dislodging several feathers from his crimson hair, giving me a split-second glance of his pointed ears.

“For example,” he continued, still grinning widely, “you look exactly like the brother of a good friend of mine. I mean, what are the odds? Of course, he’s supposed to be safely home in Louisiana, so I have no idea what he’s doing in New York City. Oh, well.”

The gnomes whirled, hissing and confused, looking from me to the intruder and back again. Sensing he was the bigger threat, they started edging toward the tower, raising their hands to snarl at him.

“Huh, that’s kinda disturbing. I bet none of you have pets, do you?”

A dagger came flying through the air from his direction, striking a gnome as it rushed forward, turning it into mist. A second later, the stranger landed next to me, still grinning, pulling a second dagger from his belt. “Hey there, Ethan Chase,” he said, looking as smug and irreverent as I remembered. “Fancy meeting you here.”

The pack lifted their arms again, mouths opening, and I felt that strange, sluggish pull. The faery beside me snorted. “I don’t think so,” he scoffed, and lunged into their midst.

Pushing myself off the wall, I started to follow, but he really didn’t need much help. Even with the gnomes sucking away at his glamour, he danced and whirled among them with no problem, his dagger cutting a misty path through their ranks. “Oy, human, go help your friends!” he called, dodging as a piranha-gnome leaped at him. “I can finish up here!”

I nodded and ran to the foot of the stairs where Keirran had drawn back, placing himself between the gnomes, Annwyl and Kenzie, his eyes flashing as he dared anything to come close. Annwyl slumped against the ground, and Kenzie stood protectively beside her, still holding one half of the broken rattan. A few gnomes surrounded them, arms outstretched and glaring at Keirran; one was doubled over a few feet away as if sick.

Leaping from the stairs, I dropped behind one of the faeries with a yell, bringing my stick crashing down on its skull. It dropped like a stone, fading into nothing, and I quickly stepped to the side, kicking another in the head, flinging it away.

Hissing, the rest of the pack scattered. Screeching and jabbering through their nasty hand-mouths, they scuttled into the bushes and up the walls, leaving us alone at the foot of the stairs.

Panting, I looked toward the others. “Everyone okay?”

Keirran wasn’t listening. As soon as the gnomes had gone, he sheathed his weapon and immediately turned to Annwyl, dropping down beside her. I heard them talking in low murmurs, Keirran’s worried voice asking if she was all right, the Summer girl insisting she was fine. I sighed and turned to Kenzie; they would probably be unreachable for a while.

Kenzie approached sheepishly, one half of the broken rattan in her hand. “Sorry,” she said, holding up the ruined weapon with a helpless gesture. “It…uh…died a noble death. I can only hope it gave that thing a wicked tongue splinter.”

I took the broken stick from her hand, tossed it into the bushes, and drew her into a brief, one-armed hug.

“Better the stick than you,” I muttered, feeling her heart speed up, her arms circling my waist to cling to me. “Are you all right?”

She nodded. “They were doing something to Annwyl when Keirran came leaping in. He killed several, but they backed off and started doing that creepy thing with their hands, and Annwyl…” She shivered, looking back at the Summer faery in concern. “It was a good thing you came and chased them off. Annwyl wasn’t looking so good…and you’re bleeding again!”

“Yeah.” I gritted my teeth as she stepped away and gently took my arm. “One of them mistook my arm for the stick. Ow!” I flinched as she drew back the torn sleeve, revealing a mess of blood and sliced skin. “You can thank Keirran for this,” I muttered as Kenzie gave me a horrified, apologetic look. “He went swooping in to rescue his girlfriend and left me alone with a half dozen piranha fey.”

And speaking of swooping…

“Hey,” came a familiar, slightly annoyed voice from the top of the stairs, “not to rain on your little reunion or anything, but did you forget something back there? Like, oh, I don’t know…me?”

I heard a gasp from Annwyl as the redheaded faery came sauntering down the steps, lips pulled into a smirk.

“Remember me?” he said, hopping down the last step to face us, still grinning. Kenzie eyed him curiously, but he looked past her to Keirran and Annwyl. “Oh, hey, and the princeling is here, too! Small world! And what, may I ask, are you doing way out here with the queen’s brother?”

“What are you doing here?” I growled, as Keirran and Annwyl finally joined us. Keirran had on a wide, relieved smile, and the other faery grinned back at him; obviously they knew each other. Annwyl, on the other hand, looked faintly star-struck. I guess you couldn’t blame her, considering who this was.

“Me?” The faery laced his hands behind his skull. “I was supposed to meet a certain obnoxious furball near Shakespeare’s Garden, but then I heard a racket so I decided to investigate.” He shook his head, giving me a bemused look. “Jeez, you’re just as much trouble as your sister, you know that? It must run in the family.”

“Um, excuse me,” Kenzie put in, and we stared at her. “Sorry,” she continued, looking around at each of us, “but do you all know each other? And if you do, would you mind letting me in on the secret?”

The Great Prankster grinned at me. “You wanna tell her? Or should I?”

I ignored him. “Kenzie,” I sighed, “this is Robin Goodfellow, a friend of my sister’s.” Her eyes went wide, and I nodded. “You might know him better as—”

“Puck,” she finished for me in a whisper. She was staring at him now, awe and amazement written across her face. “Puck, like from A Midsummer Night’s Dream? Love potions and Nick Bottom and donkey heads? That Puck?”

“The one and only.” Puck grinned. Pulling a green hankie from his pocket, he wadded it up and tossed it in my direction. I caught it with my good hand. “Here. Looks like those things chewed on you pretty good. Wrap that up, and then someone can tell me what the heck is going on here.”

“That’s what we were trying to figure out,” Keirran explained, as Kenzie took the handkerchief and started wrapping my mangled wrist. The slashes weren’t deep, but they were extremely painful. Damn piranha-faery. I clenched my teeth and endured, as Keirran went on. “Leanansidhe sent us here to see what was happening with the exiles and half-breeds. We were trying to find them when you showed up.”

Razor abruptly winked into sight on Keirran’s shoulder. Seeing Puck, the gremlin gave a trill that wasn’t quite welcoming, making Puck wrinkle his nose. “Oh, hey, Buzz-saw. Still hanging around, are you?” He sighed. “So, let me get this straight. Scary Dark Muse has got you tromping all over Central Park on some sort of crazy secret mission, and she didn’t tell me about it? Well, I’m kinda hurt.” Crossing his arms, he gave Keirran and me a scrutinizing look, and his green eyes narrowed sharply. “How did you two get involved in this, anyway?”

Something in his voice made the hairs rise along my arm. Me and Keirran. Not Kenzie or Annwyl; he wasn’t even looking at them. Puck knew something. Just like Meghan. It was as if he’d confirmed that Keirran and I were never supposed to meet, that seeing us together was definitely a bad thing.

I couldn’t think about that now, though. Puck was certainly not going to tell me anything. “My friend Todd was kidnapped,” I said, and he arched an eyebrow at me. “He’s a half-breed, and was taken by the same type of creatures that suck out the glamour of normal fey.”

“I thought that’s what they were doing. Ugh.” Puck gave an exaggerated shiver and brushed at his arms. “Nasty creepy things. I’m feeling very violated right now.” He shook himself, then frowned at me. “So, you just decided to go look for him? Just like that? Without telling anyone about it? Wow, you are just like your sister.”

“We had to do something, Puck,” Keirran broke in. “Exiles and half-breeds all over the world are disappearing. And these…glamour-eaters…are making them disappear. Summer and Winter weren’t offering any help. I could go to Oberon, but he won’t listen to me.”