The Iron Traitor

The inside of the tent was dark, musty and warm. Orange candle glow flickered around us, on tables and hanging lanterns, and the air smelled of bark, dust and animal droppings, making me stifle a cough.



Near the back of the tent, a ragged, hooded figure sat in the center of what looked like a huge nest. Twigs, string, grass stalks and branches were woven into each other, surrounding the hunched form in the middle of the nest. A pair of crows perched on the edge, regarding us with shiny black eyes.



The figure in the center of the nest stirred, cocking its head like it was listening for us. “Visitors,” it rasped, its voice low and harsh. “Step forward.”



We eased up to the tangle of sticks and branches, where one of the crows cawed and aimed a sharp peck at the side of my face, making me flinch. The robed figure burbled a laugh.



“Watch your eyes,” it warned. “They like shiny things.”



I eyed the crow warily, then noticed something else. The bottom of the nest was covered with feathers, string and bird droppings, but beads of brilliant color glinted among the offal. Rings, keys, earrings, buttons and other shiny objects were scattered about as well, but even they seemed dull compared to the glowing orbs of color lying among feathers and bird crap. Eyes shining with fascination, Kenzie reached out to touch the closest one, but the hooded figure swatted her arm with a folded paper fan, and she pulled back with a yelp.



“No, no,” the figure rasped and raised its head. Beady eyes glinted under the cloth as I stared into the face of a huge raven, beak snapping in irritation. A scaly black talon reached out and plucked the bead that Kenzie had been reaching for, drawing it into its chest. “Secret is not for you. Not without a price.” The bird-thing rolled the glowing green marble back and forth in its claws and watched us, unblinking. “You seek information,” it said, its gaze settling on Annwyl. “All who come here seek information, secrets, hidden things.” It closed its talons, and the bead vanished. “Perhaps I have what you seek, yes? Ask. Ask.”



“What is the price?” Annwyl asked instead, echoing what I was thinking. “You spoke of a cost. What do you want for the information we seek?”



“Depends” was the croaked answer. “Depends on the secret, how well hidden it is, how hard it was to discover. Don’t know until you ask.” It clicked its beak with a grinding sound. “Ask,” it demanded again. “Ask. Then see if the price is too high to pay.”



Annwyl looked at me. I nodded. We wouldn’t get anywhere standing around doing nothing, much as I wasn’t enjoying this. “We’re looking for someone,” the Summer faery said, turning back to the bird-thing. “Prince Keirran of the Iron Court. We need to know where he is, where we can find him, please.”



“Iron Prince?” The bird faery didn’t seem surprised or distressed. “When do you wish to find him?”



“As soon as possible.”



“Hmm.” The bird faery thought a moment, then plucked a marble out of the debris, holding it up. It pulsed with a soft blue light.



“Large secret,” it rasped. “Not difficult to get, per se, but demand makes it expensive. The Iron Prince is well hidden. His location is one that many would like to know. But I know where he is.” It chuckled, a low sound in the back of its throat, and I clenched my fists. The answer to Keirran’s whereabouts, not three feet away. If I just grabbed it and ran, would a mob of angry crows run me down and peck me to death? Not that I had any intention of doing something so stupid, especially with Kenzie and Annwyl around, but I wished we could get it without all this ridiculous, dangerous bargaining.



Annwyl’s voice remained calm. “What do you want for it?”



The faery’s eyes glittered as it looked at all three of us. “For secrets to be revealed,” it rasped, closing its talons over the marble, “secrets must be shared. One piece of information for another. If you want to know the location of the Iron Prince, you must give me a secret in return. Something you have never shared with anyone. And I will decide if the combined weight of your secrets is enough to share this one with you.”



“Really?” Kenzie asked, sounding puzzled. “That’s all? Just one secret from each of us?” She blinked, then frowned slightly. “What’s the catch?”



“The catch,” Annwyl said quietly, startling me again, “is that our secrets become brokered merchandise that anyone can pay for. Something that can be traded away to whoever wants it, if their offer is high enough.”



“Yes,” the crow faery agreed, not bothering to deny it. “Secrets for secrets, one whisper for another. Information is very powerful. Some would die for it. Some would kill for it. How much are you willing to pay, little wingless ones? How badly do you want to find the prince?”



“I’ll agree to your price,” Annwyl said without hesitation. “If this is the only way to find him. But Ethan and Kenzie don’t have to do this.” She spared us a quick glance. “This isn’t their burden.”



“No.” The faery shook its head, dislodging a feather that floated lazily to the side of the nest. “You are all looking for the Iron Prince. You all want the information. You all must pay the price.” It snapped its beak with a sharp clicking sound. “Secrets from all, or secrets from none. That is how it works. And do not attempt to tell me falsehoods, humans.” It fastened a beady black eye on me. “I will know if what you speak is truth or lies. So.” It cocked its head, regarding us all. “What is it to be, wingless ones? Do we have a deal?”



Dammit, I didn’t want to do this. And I sure as hell didn’t want Kenzie to do this. Trading honey, jewelry or material things wasn’t bad; I could easily replace them. It was this kind of thing that scared the crap out of me. Bargaining away something personal, something that was a part of me, that I could never get back.



But if it was the only way to find Keirran...



I sighed. “All right,” I murmured, and Annwyl looked at me in surprise. “I’ll agree to it, too. Kenzie?”



She didn’t look at me, and her voice came out stiff. “You already know I’m gonna say yes.”



“Excellent,” rasped the bird faery as the two crows flapped their wings and hopped to its hunched shoulders. One scaly talon rose to beckon to us. “Step forward, then. Come around to this side and whisper your secret into my ear. But remember—trivial secrets are of little use to me. Deep, dark secrets carry power and are the only thing that will pay for the information you desire. Do not waste my time, wingless ones. Step forward.”



I swallowed hard as Annwyl walked around the nest, coming to stand at the faery’s side. The crow on the ragged shoulder eyed her, unblinking, as she bent down, bringing her mouth close to the hooded cowl. Her lips moved, and I averted my gaze, feeling I shouldn’t watch her spill her darkest secret to the hunched form in the nest.



The crow on the faery’s shoulder suddenly lunged at her, driving its sharp beak into her ear. Annwyl gasped, jerking away, as the bird pulled back, holding a glowing green orb the size of a marble.



Ruffling its feathers, the crow hopped onto the bird faery’s arm and dropped the glowing ball into its open palm. The faery’s claws curled around it instantly, and Annwyl’s secret vanished from sight.



The Summer girl shivered.



“Yes,” the faery hissed, sounding pleased. “Good, very good. We are off to an excellent start.” It clacked its beak and looked at Kenzie. “Now, are the human’s secrets as interesting?”



Kenzie’s eyes met mine, and something in her solemn gaze caused chills to creep up my back. More secrets. I thought she’d already told me her biggest secret, the one she shared when we were alone and trapped in the Forgotten cave. The thought that she was hiding more from me made my insides hurt.



Kenzie walked around the side of the nest, bent down and whispered something into the faery’s ear. This time, though I felt rotten doing it, I watched her carefully, trying to catch a hint of what she was saying. My heart stilled when, for just a moment, I thought I saw my name on her lips, but I couldn’t be certain. Kenzie flinched when the crow’s beak darted into her ear, emerging with a shining orb of blue, and it disappeared into the faery’s claws like the other one.



Then it was my turn.



My heart pounded as I made my way around the nest. Secrets. What could I say? Kenzie already knew my biggest one. The regret I’d never told anyone before, that day with Samantha and the black pony, when I’d watched a faery hurt my friend, ruin her life and couldn’t do anything to stop it. She already knew. And the bird faery wanted something I’d never told anyone before. A secret that could be bought. That could be used against me.



I still didn’t know what I was going to say as I bent down, nervously eyeing the crow’s sharp beak, so close to my eyes. But I took a deep breath, my lips parted, and without even thinking about it, I breathed:



“It’s Keirran’s fault Meghan never comes around. She would still be part of this family if he was never born.”



Whoa. Where had that come from?



CHAPTER TWELVE



MR. DUST



I barely felt the crow stab its beak into my ear, still reeling from what I’d just told the faery. I... Did I blame Keirran for Meghan’s absence? It sure sounded like I did, which made me an irrational jackass. Okay, so I’d already known I was a jackass, but an even bigger one.



The bird faery cackled, tucking the secret into the folds of its robe. “Interesting,” it said, giving me a sideways look with one beady eye. “Sometimes the biggest secrets are the ones we keep from ourselves, eh, human?”



I crossed my arms, vowing to deal with this newest personality wrinkle later. Right now, we had to find the prince. “You got your secrets,” I told the faery, stepping back to join Kenzie and Annwyl, ignoring their worried looks. “Now, tell us where we can find Keirran.”



The bird faery clacked its beak. Reaching into a tattered sleeve, it withdrew the bright blue marble and held it up, letting it glimmer in the dim light.