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

The Lost Prince (The Iron Fey: Call of the Forgotten #1) Page 46

Kenzie finished wrapping my arm, tying it off as gently as she could. I nodded my thanks and turned to the Summer faery. “But he’ll listen to you,” I told Puck. “Someone has to tell the courts about this.”

“And you think I should be messenger boy?” Puck crossed his arms. “What do I look like, a carrier pigeon? What about you? What are you four planning?” He looked at all of us, Keirran especially, and smiled. “Whatever it is, I think I should stick around for it.”

“What about Grimalkin?”

“Furball?” Puck snorted. “He probably set this whole thing up. If he wants to see me, he’ll find me. Besides, this sounds much more exciting.”

“We’ve got this.”

“Really? Your arm begs to differ, kid. What would Meghan say if she knew you were out here? Both of you?” he added, glancing at Keirran.

“We’ll be fine,” I insisted. “I don’t need Meghan’s help. I survived without her for years. She never bothered to keep tabs on me until now.”

Puck narrowed his eyes to glowing slits, looking rather dangerous now, and I quickly switched tactics. “And we’re just going back to Leanansidhe, to let her know what we found. There’s nothing here, anyway.”

“But the courts have to know what’s going on,” Keirran added. “You felt what those things were doing. How long before they kill all the exiles in the real world and start eyeing the Nevernever?”

“You have to go to them,” I said. “You have to let them know what’s going on. If you tell Oberon—”

“He might not listen to me, either.” Puck sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “But…I see your point. Fine, then.” He blew out a noisy breath. “Looks like the next stop on my list is Arcadia.” That grin crept up again, eager and malicious. “I guess it’s about time I went home. Titania is going to be so happy to see me.”

At the mention of Titania, Annwyl shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. The longing on the Summer girl’s face was plain; it was obvious that she wanted to go home, back to the Summer Court. Keirran didn’t touch her but leaned in and whispered something in her ear, and she smiled at him gratefully.

They didn’t see the way Puck stared at them, his eyes hooded and troubled, a shadow darkening his face. They didn’t see the way his gaze narrowed, his mouth set into a grim line. It caused a chill to skitter up my back, but before I could say anything, the Summer Prankster yawned noisily and stretched, raising long limbs over his head, and the scary look on his face vanished.

“Well,” he mused, dusting off his hands, “I guess I’m off to the Summer Court, then. You sure you four don’t need any help? I feel a little left out of the action.”

“We’ll be fine, Puck,” Keirran said. “If you see my parents, tell them I’m sorry, but I had to go.”

Puck winced. “Yeah, that’s going to go over so well for me,” he muttered. “I can already hear what ice-boy is going to say about this.” Shaking his head, he backed up, leaves and dust starting to swirl around him. “You two remind me of a certain pair.” He grinned, looking from me to Keirran. “Maybe that’s why I like you so much. So be careful, okay? If you get into trouble, I’ll probably get blamed for it.”

The whirlwind of dust and leaves whipped into a frenzy, and Puck twisted into himself, growing smaller and darker, until a huge black raven rose from the cyclone and flapped away over the trees.

“Wow,” murmured Kenzie, uncharacteristically quiet until now. “I actually met Robin Goodfellow.”

“Yeah,” I said, cradling my arm. My wrist hurt like hell, and the mention of my sister was making me moody. “He’s a lot less insufferable in the plays.”

For some reason, Razor found that hilarious and cackled with laughter, bouncing up and down on Keirran’s back. The prince sighed. “He won’t go back to Arcadia,” he said grimly, staring at the spot where the raven had disappeared. “Not immediately. He’ll go to Mag Tuiredh, or he’ll at least try to get a message there. He’s going back to tell my parents where we are.”

“Great,” I muttered. “So we don’t have a lot of time, whatever we do.”

Keirran shook his head. “What now?” he asked. “Should we go back to Leanansidhe and tell her the park is basically a dead zone?”

“My vote is yes,” I said. I shifted my arm to a more comfortable position, gritting my teeth as pain stabbed through my wrist. “If we run into any more of those things, I’m not going to be able to fight very well.”

“Back to the bridge, then?”

“Wait,” Kenzie said suddenly. She was staring back toward the castle, her gaze turned toward one of the towers, dark and hazy in the moonlight. “I thought I saw something move.”

I turned, following her gaze, just as a head poked up from one of the observation platforms, looking around wildly. Its eyes glowed orange in the shadows.

Chapter Nineteen

Passing Down the Swords

“Todd!” I called, rushing forward.

The dark figure jerked its head toward me, eyes going wide. I leaped up the steps, taking them two at a time, the others close behind. “Hey!” I barked, as the shadowy figure scrambled over the edge of the wall, landing on the deck with a grunt. “Todd, wait!”

I put on a burst of speed, but the figure raced across the courtyard, leaped over the edge and plummeted into the pond at the bottom with a splash.

“Annwyl,” Keirran said as we reached the spot the half-breed went over. He was swimming for the edge of the pond, drawing rapidly away. “Can you stop him?”

The Summer girl nodded. Waiting until the half-breed reached the shore, she immediately flung out a hand, and coils of vegetation erupted from the ground, snaking around him. There was a yelp of fear and dismay and the sound of wild thrashing as Annwyl continued to wrap him in vines.

“Got him,” Keirran muttered, and leaped onto the wall. He crouched there for a split second, balanced gracefully on the edge, then dropped the long way down to the ground, landing on a sliver of solid ground below us as lightly as a cat. Sheathing his sword, he started across the pond.

I scowled at the back of his head, as I, being a mere mortal, had to retrace my steps back down the stairs and around the pond. Kenzie followed. By the time we reached the place the half-breed was trapped, Keirran stood a few feet from the writhing lump of vegetation, hands outstretched as he tried to quiet him.

“Easy, there.” Keirran’s quiet, soothing voice drifted over the rocks. “Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you.”

The half-breed responded by howling and swiping at him with a claw-tipped hand. Keirran dodged easily. I saw his eyes half close in concentration and felt a slow pulse of magic extend out from where he stood, turning the air thick, making me feel sluggish and sleepy. The half-breed’s wild struggles slowed, then stilled, until a loud snore came from the vegetation lump.

Keirran looked up almost guiltily as I joined him, staring at the tangle of vines, weeds, flowers and half-breed. “He was going to hurt himself,” he murmured, stepping back as I knelt beside the unconscious form. “I figured this was the easiest way to calm him down.”

“No complaints here,” I muttered, using my uninjured hand to peel back the tangle of vines. A face emerged within the vegetation, an older, bearded face, with short tusks curling up from his jaw.

I slumped. “It’s not Todd,” I said, standing back up. Disappointment flickered, which surprised me. What had I been expecting? Todd’s last known location was Louisiana. There was no reason he would show up in New York.

Kenzie leaned over my shoulder. “Not Todd,” she agreed, blinking at the thick, bearded face, the blunt yellow teeth poking from his jaw. “What is he, then?”

“Half-troll,” Keirran supplied. “Homeless, by the looks of it. He probably made part of Central Park his territory.”

I stared at the half-troll, annoyed that he wasn’t Todd, and frowned. “So, what do we do with him?”

“Hold on,” Kenzie said, stepping around me. Kneeling down, she pushed aside weeds and vines, grunting in concentration, until she emerged with a small square item in her hand.

“Wallet,” she said, waving it at us, before flipping it open and squinting at it. “Shoot, it’s too dark to see anything. Anyone have a minilight?”

Keirran gestured. A small globe of heatless fire appeared overhead, making her jump. “Oh, well, that’s handy,” she said with a wry grin. “I bet you’re fun on camping trips.”

The prince smiled faintly. “I can also open cans and make your drinks cold.”

“What does the license say?” I asked, trying not to sound impatient. “Who is this guy?”

Kenzie peered at the card. “Thomas Bend,” she read, holding the driver’s license underneath the pulsing faery light. “He’s from…Ohio.”

We all stared at him. “Then what the heck is he doing here?” I muttered.

“Oh, you’re back, darlings,” Leanansidhe said, sounding faintly resigned. “And what, may I ask, is that?”

“We found him in the park,” I said, as Thomas the half-troll stumbled in behind us, shedding mud and leaves and gaping at his surroundings. After he’d woken up, he’d seemed to calm down, remaining passive and quiet when we spoke to him. He’d followed us here without complaint. “He’s not from New York. We thought he might be one of yours.”

“Not mine, darlings.” Leanansidhe wrinkled her nose as the troll blinked at her, orange eyes huge and round. “And why did you feel the need to bring the creature here, pets? You could have asked him yourself and spared my poor carpets.”

“Lady,” whispered the half-troll, cringing back from the Exile Queen. “Lady. Big Dark. Lady.”