The Iron Traitor

Keirran looked around calmly. “You don’t want to do this,” he warned.



Mr. Dust clasped his hands in front of him again, seemingly unconcerned. “When I said the price would jump substantially if you refused, I was not making idle threats,” he hissed. “The price has just gotten much higher. Now we bargain for something new. Your lives.”



“Yeah, I think I’ve reached my shopping limit for the day,” I said, backing toward the exit, keeping myself between Annwyl, Kenzie and the advancing redcaps. The door behind us banged open, and several more of the evil fey spilled into the room, trapping us between them. I cursed and spared a glance at the prince beside me, feeling the air chill around him. “Great. Tell me you saw this coming, Prince.”



Keirran gave a small, humorless smile. “From a mile away,” he said and raised his free arm.



Glamour swirled around him, invisible, but I could feel the icy cold radiating from the prince, the magic of Winter and the Unseelie Court. It tossed his silver hair, making his eyes glow blue-white. I shivered as frost crept over the walls and floor, making my breath hang in front of my face. The redcaps paused, and Keirran turned a deadly cold glare on Mr. Dust.



“Tell your minions to back off, or none of them will see another day.”



His voice was soft but as lethal as the icicles forming on the ceiling, making sharp, crinkling sounds as they grew into wicked points. Mr. Dust gave a soft hiss, staring at Keirran with new eyes.



“Let us go.” Keirran didn’t move, but the temperature in the room was getting colder. The redcaps looked uncomfortable, and the ribbons of drool hanging from the ogre’s tusks had frozen solid. I resisted the urge to rub my arms, keeping my swords raised and myself close to Kenzie and Annwyl. “Let us walk away,” Keirran insisted in an icy voice, “or everyone in this room will die, including you.”



“You don’t want to do that, boy,” Mr. Dust whispered, his voice soothing again. “If I am gone, there will be no more dust, no way to stop the Fading of exiles and Forgotten. You don’t want to be responsible for that, now, do you?” When Keirran hesitated, the faery smiled. “All you have to do is leave me the two mortals, and we can avoid this unpleasantness. You will have your dust, and the Summer girl will be saved. Surely you can see the wisdom in this? What are two humans to the Iron Prince? The world is crawling with them. Just promise me these two, and our bargain will be complete.”



I didn’t know what to expect, but it wasn’t Keirran’s laughter, quiet and mocking, as he shook his head at the faery dealer. “That’s quite an offer,” he said, lowering his arm. “But I think you’re forgetting something.”



“Oh? And what is that, boy?”



Keirran dropped to one knee, driving his fist into the wooden floor. There was a blinding flash of blue-white, and I flinched, turning away, as roars and screams erupted around us. But a second later, they cut out as if someone had flipped a switch. My skin burned with cold, and I opened my eyes with a gasp.



The room now resembled the interior of an icebox. Everything was frozen, buried under several inches of solid ice. The redcaps and the lone ogre stood in the same spots, arms thrown up and mouths gaping, encased in a layer of frozen crystal.



In the center of the room, Mr. Dust blinked at us, unharmed. Keirran rose, panting, and gave the faery dealer a hard smile.



“I don’t sell out my family.”



I was pretty sure my mouth was hanging open as Keirran calmly turned to me and jerked his head at the door. “Come on,” he said, sounding tired. “Let’s get out of here.”



No one argued, and no one tried to stop us. We walked past the frozen ogre and redcaps, trying not to look at the once-living fey, following Keirran as he strode across the room and pushed open the door...



...to face a horde of Forgotten on the other side.



I tensed, gripping my swords. Great, out of the frying pan, into the fire. And here I’d thought we were home free. But the Forgotten didn’t move, watching us with glowing yellow eyes, and Keirran, standing in the doorway, gazed calmly back.



And then the crowd of Forgotten parted, bowing their heads and moving aside. Keirran took Annwyl’s hand and stepped through the door, moving steadily across the room. Warily, the rest of us followed, and the horde of Forgotten watched us leave, standing to either side like an army of shadows, silent and unmoving.



It gave me the creeps.



Keirran didn’t stop until we were out the door, through the twisted alleyway that was far shorter than I remembered and across the street. Pulling Annwyl into the dark space between two buildings, he turned on me with a bright, desperate look in his eyes.



“All right,” he began, staring me down, “I did what you asked. I refused the deal that would suppress the Fade, and I think I’ve burned all bridges with Mr. Dust. Please tell me you have something else, Ethan. Something that will stop this.”



I swallowed. “I do. Or, at least, my Guro does. You met him before, remember?” Keirran nodded, and I went on. “He’s a tuhon, a faith healer of his people, and he’s also skilled in the magic arts. He said if we were to find you, to come to him. He might be able to help.”



“Might?” Keirran asked and shook his head. “What if he can’t? What will happen then?” He glanced at Annwyl, his expression tormented. “If this doesn’t work, what am I supposed to do?”



The Summer faery’s eyes were gentle as she touched the side of his face. “You could let me go, my prince. Sometimes, that is the only choice.”



Keirran’s gaze turned defiant, but before he could reply, another voice pierced the darkness above us.



“Master!”



A spindly, bat-eared creature with huge green eyes scuttled down the wall like a huge spider and leaped at Keirran, landing on his chest. “Master!” the gremlin cried again, tugging on his shirt. “Master, he is coming! He is coming!” His head swiveled around then, catching sight of Kenzie, and he flung himself at her with a joyful cry. “Pretty girl! Pretty girl is here!”



“Hey, Razor.” Kenzie grinned as she caught him. The gremlin buzzed and scrambled to her shoulders, flashing his blue-white smile. “I was wondering where you were.”



“Who is coming?” Keirran asked, and the gremlin’s ears pressed flat to his skull.



“Dark elf,” he almost whispered. “Dark elf coming. Now.”



Dark elf? Oh no. That could only mean one person. And by the way Keirran went pale, he was thinking the same thing.



Cautiously, we edged up to the wall and peeked around the corner.



A silhouette was striding down the center of the road, heading for the alley we’d just vacated. Lean, tall, a long black coat rippling behind him, he was instantly recognizable. Even from this distance, I could see the glow of his sword, blue-black and deadly, and the glint of a cold silver eye.



Keirran lunged back from the edge.



“This way!” he whispered and grabbed Annwyl’s hand. “Hurry, before he sees us!”



“Keirran, wait!” I hurried after them, Kenzie right behind us, still holding Razor. “Why are you hiding from your parents?” I demanded as we ducked out of the alley into the goblin market, Keirran looking around wildly. “Are you in trouble? What have you done?”



“I haven’t done anything,” Keirran replied and seemed to pick a direction, jogging toward it with us hurrying to catch up.



“Right. That’s why we’re running away from the freaking Prince Consort of the Iron Court!”



“Keirran!”



The deep, booming voice made me wince. I glanced over my shoulder...to see Ash on the rooftops across the street, the full moon at his back, staring right at us.



Keirran took off, weaving through the groups of fey, dodging unearthly vendors and shoppers and trying to melt into the crowd. The rest of us scrambled after him, and I didn’t dare to look back to see how close Ash was.



“This way!” Keirran urged, ducking into a small, deserted side street. No fey walked the sidewalks, and the road seemed eerily abandoned. Worse, a tall fence stood at the end of the street, preventing us from going any farther.



I panted and glared at Keirran. “Dead end. Looks like we’ll have to face him after all.”



“No, we won’t.” Keirran ran his fingers along the wall, his gaze narrowed. “Where is it?” he murmured. “The Veil is thin here. I can feel it. Where...”



A tall silhouette appeared at the end of the street, just as Keirran pushed his hand into the wall and moved it aside, parting it like a curtain. Beyond the sudden crack was darkness and mist, and the prince gestured to us impatiently. “Hurry! Through here!”



Annwyl and Kenzie vanished through the tear, Razor jabbering on Kenzie’s shoulder. Keirran glanced at me and jerked his head as Ash came steadily closer. “Come on, Ethan!”



I muttered a curse, ducked my head and plunged into the once-solid brick wall, feeling like I was passing through a film of cobwebs. Keirran was right behind me, dropping the curtain as he did, giving me a split-second glance of the street through the gap. Then the opening swooshed shut, closing the tear between realities, and the real world vanished behind us.



CHAPTER THIRTEEN



THE BETWEEN



“Where are we?”



My voice echoed in the vast emptiness surrounding us. I gazed around in shock; when we’d gone through the gash, I’d fully expected to appear in the Nevernever. Probably in some lonely corner of the wyldwood. But upon reflection, I realized how unlikely that was. Only the fey rulers—the kings and queens of Faery—could create trods between the Nevernever and the real world. I knew Keirran was strong and all, but he didn’t have that kind of power. At least, I didn’t think he did. Maybe I was wrong. But more important, Annwyl had been banished from Faery, so she couldn’t go back to the Nevernever; the trods had been sealed off to her by Titania. And yet, here she was, standing beside Keirran and gazing around in awe like the rest of us.