* * *

The market thinned out a couple blocks down. Booths and tables still lined the sidewalks, but not as many, though there were still crowds of fey milling between them. I kept my head down and my hood up as I skirted the edges of the booths, searching for anything that might be our mysterious information broker. Keep an eye out for the crows, the gnome vendor had said. What was that supposed to mean?

“Any idea what we’re looking for?” Annwyl murmured at my shoulder.

I was about to reply when I caught a split-second glance of a figure gliding through the crowds of fey. A girl...with long raven hair streaked with blue. My heart gave a violent lurch and I turned quickly, running into someone in my haste.

“Excuse me.”

The faery I’d bumped into turned, a tall Winter sidhe with a furry white cloak draped over her shoulders, the head of a fox peering sightlessly down at me. Her tone was as icy as her eyes and hair. “What’s this?” she said, glaring down her nose at me and Annwyl. “A dirty little human and a Summer harlot. Did you touch me, human?” Her blue lips curled with distaste. “I will never get the stench out of my cloak.”

“Sorry,” I said hastily, backing away. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Oh, but you did, all the same.” The Winter faery’s voice was cruel, and she snapped her fingers. Three trolls stepped out of the crowd, boxing us in. They were bigger than the normal variety, their skin pale blue instead of green, their lank hair white. They growled, baring curved tusks, flexing long black claws. The Winter faery’s lips curved in a slow smile. “I believe compensation is in order,” she purred as my hands twitched for my swords. “Or I will have my pets take it out of your hide.”

“Milady, please,” Annwyl began.

“Silence, Summer filth,” the Winter lady snapped, giving Annwyl a look of pure hatred. “You’re lucky the mortal was the one to transgress. I would have ripped out your weak Summer heart and fed it as a treat to my pets. Dare to speak to me again, and I will.”

“Don’t even think about it,” I snapped, pulling my weapons. “Unless you want to take home three less pets than you started out with.” The trolls surrounding us snarled, but the sidhe woman laughed. I bristled at that laugh but tried to keep my voice reasonable. I did not want to fight three scary-ass trolls in the middle of a goblin market. But I also did not want to bargain with a Winter gentry, not now. “I don’t want any trouble,” I told the faery, who offered a patronizing smile in return. “Just let us go, and we can get on with our lives.”

“I don’t think so, little human.” Her eyes narrowed to blue slits, though that sadistic smile didn’t waver. “And I don’t think you’re in any position to tell me what to do. So, what’s it to be, mortal?” She edged closer, looming over us. “What do you have to offer for your pathetic blunder?”

“Nothing,” I snarled, raising my swords. “I don’t have anything.”

“What he means to say,” interrupted a new voice, making my heart stop, “is that he has to wait for me to make any bargains on his behalf.”

The faery turned, the trolls grunted and I stared...as Kenzie pushed her way into the circle and stood in front of me, facing down the sidhe. Annwyl gasped, but I couldn’t move or even make a sound.

“Another human,” the gentry mused. “The market is practically infested with them tonight. Well, go on, then, mortal.” She waved an airy hand at the girl. “Tell me who you are, before I have my pets rip off the boy’s head and turn his skin into a new cloak for me.”

“You don’t need to know my name,” Kenzie said in a clear, unwavering voice. “All you need to know is that I can pay for whatever he—” she jerked her head back, though she didn’t look at me “—owes you.”

“No!” I started toward her, but one of the trolls moved. Lightning fast, it lashed out with a huge fist, slamming me in the stomach. Pain exploded through my gut, and all the air left my lungs. Gasping, I dropped to my knees on the pavement, feeling the world spin around me and trying not to hurl.

Annwyl sank down, trying to help me up as the trolls closed in, growling. Kenzie spared me a brief, frightened look, then turned back to the Winter faery, holding something out to her. From my angle on the ground, I couldn’t see what it was.

“Here!” Kenzie said as I struggled to get up, to stop her. “You can have this. Take it and leave us alone.”

The sidhe’s thin eyebrows rose. “A Token?” she mused, unable to mask her surprise. “Well, how very generous, little mortal.” She reached out, plucking something bright from Kenzie’s hand, and snapped her fingers. The trolls backed off, still growling, but retreated until they stood behind the Winter faery. “I suppose this will do,” she said, and her gaze strayed to me, still on the ground. “You’re very fortunate, boy. Next time, I will have your lovely eyes on a string. Run on home, before you get in real trouble, mortals. You don’t belong here.”

She glided off, her trolls stumping along behind her, and the small crowd that had been watching dispersed.

I rose, breathing slowly, carefully, to make sure none of my ribs were broken. “I’m all right,” I rasped, to ease the concern on both Annwyl’s and Kenzie’s faces. But while Annwyl hovered anxiously, her green eyes solemn and worried, Kenzie remained where she was, watching me with a mixture of concern, wariness and anger.

My shock hadn’t faded. I didn’t know what to feel; my insides were such a chaotic, churning mess of emotion, I didn’t know what to settle on. Relief that she was here. Anger that she was here and not safe with her family. Astonishment that she had found us. A horrible, gnawing guilt that I had ditched her, left her behind while I went looking for the fey.

And of course, there was that knowledge that she had just saved us. Again. I remembered Kenzie’s quick thinking in the Nevernever, when I’d been in trouble and she’d managed to turn it around. The odds hadn’t looked good for me a few seconds ago, either. Those trolls probably would’ve torn my arms off.

Why didn’t you want her to come, again?

Oh yeah. Because she was gravely ill. Because there was a creepy faery assassin following me around. And because, no matter what she said, the world of Faery and everything in it was dangerous.

And I couldn’t lose her to Faery the way I’d lost Meghan.

“Kenzie, what are you doing here?” I snapped, which didn’t come out as strong as I wanted as my lungs were still a bit flattened. “How did you even find us?” Her eyes flashed and shifted all the way to anger.

“I asked around,” she replied, glaring at me. “You’re not the only one who can see the fey anymore, remember? When we got here, I kept my eyes open and found a faery living in the hotel we’re staying at. A brownie, I think. He was all too happy to tell me how to find and get to the goblin market.”

“Dammit, Kenzie,” I growled, glaring back at her. “What did you give him for that information?”

She raised her chin. “I brought a whole suitcase full of gifts and bribes, tough guy. It’s amazing how far costume jewelry will get you.”

Relief spread through me. At least she hadn’t come unprepared, though, really, what had I expected from her? It wasn’t even that much of a shock that she had found her way with little to no information. Kenzie would always find a way, whether it was a good idea or not.

“You shouldn’t have come,” I insisted, and her expression darkened.

“Yeah, well, I’m here now,” Kenzie shot back. “So unless you’re going to throw me over your shoulder like a caveman and cart me out, I’m not going anywhere.”

I clenched my fists, wondering how badly she would hurt me if I did just that. But Annwyl moved up beside me and touched my arm.

“Ethan, look,” she murmured, nodding to something across the street.

Tearing my attention from Kenzie, I followed Annwyl’s gaze. On the other side of the road, I caught sight of a line of birds perched along a telephone wire, black and nearly invisible against the darkness. Below them sat a plain, nondescript tent, also nearly invisible against the carnival-like backdrop of the market.

Kenzie glanced at the line of birds and the tent beneath it. A puzzled frown creased her forehead. “Crows,” she stated matter-of-factly. “Am I missing something? I thought we were here for Keirran. Do we think he’s in there?”

I slumped. “No,” I muttered, picking up my dropped swords and sheathing them at my waist. No use in standing around arguing. Kenzie was here, and she wasn’t leaving. I was certain she’d lay into me about it later, but right now, we needed to find what we were looking for and get out. “But it’s a place where someone might know where he is. Just...we have to be careful. I don’t think honey and fake jewelry are going to work here.”

Kenzie still looked pissed but gave a stiff nod. Still, something nagged at me, and I caught up to her as we crossed the road, heading for the tent. “Wait, what did you give that Winter faery?” I asked in a low voice as we passed under the telephone wires, hearing soft, garbled caws overhead. “She said it was a Token.” A Token, in faery terms, was an item that had been so loved, hated or cherished in real life, it had actually developed a life of its own. The item, whatever it was, became the embodiment of that emotion and was like a lump of pure glamour to the fey. “That wasn’t costume jewelry, was it?” I asked, and Kenzie swallowed.

“No,” she whispered, not looking at me. “It was...my mom’s ring. I was saving it, in case I needed something really valuable to offer for trade.”

I stopped, looking at her in horror. “Kenzie...”

“It’s fine, Ethan.” But she still didn’t meet my gaze. “I don’t regret it. And it was the only thing I could think of.”

The guilt I’d felt before was nothing compared to the bone-crushing weight I felt now, squeezing the air from my lungs. I didn’t know whether to apologize or yell at her for doing something so stupid, giving up something so precious, for me. But Kenzie walked doggedly forward, head and back straight, and ducked through the tent flaps at the edge of the sidewalk. Annwyl and I had no choice but to follow.