The Lost Prince

Page 25


“Well?” came a familiar voice from behind us, and we jerked around. Grimalkin sat on the bench across from us, watching us lazily. “Are you just going to sit there until the train starts moving again?”


“Where do we go from here?” Kenzie asked, peeking out the window again. “I guess we can’t hail a taxi, right?”


Grimalkin sighed.


“This way,” he said, walking along the edge of the bench before dropping to the ground. “I will take you to the Iron Queen’s palace.”


The palace, I thought, as we followed Grimalkin down the aisle toward the doors up front. I knew the huge castle must be hers. It was just hard to imagine Meghan living in a palace now. Must be nice. Better than a rundown farmhouse or little home in the suburbs, anyway.


Following Grimalkin, we stepped through the doors and walked down the steps into the hazy streets of Mag Tuiredh.


Aside from the crowds of fey, it was difficult to believe we were still in the Nevernever. Mag Tuiredh reminded me a little of Victorian England—the steampunk version. The streets were cobblestone and lined with flickering lanterns in hues of blue and green. Carriages stood at the edge of the sidewalks, pulled by strange, mechanical horses of bright metal and copper gears. Buildings crowded the narrow streets, some stony and vine-ridden and Gothic, others decidedly more modern. Pipes crisscrossed the sky overhead, leaking steam that trickled to the ground in lacy curtains. And, of course, there were the Iron fey, looking as if they’d stepped straight out of an alchemist’s nightmare.


They stared at us as if we were the nightmares, the monsters, watching and whispering as we trailed Grimalkin through the cobblestone paths. The cat was nearly invisible in the haze and falling steam, as difficult to glimpse as a shadow in the wyldwood. I kept a tight grip on my weapons, glaring back at any fey who gave me a funny look. We were even more conspicuous here than we’d been at the border village. I hoped we could get to Meghan before anyone stepped up to challenge the two humans strolling through the middle of the faery capital.


Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen.


As we passed beneath a stone archway, clanking footsteps rang out and a squad of faery knights stepped up to block our path. Weapons drawn, they surrounded us, a ring of bristling steel, their faces cold and hard beneath their helmets. I pulled Kenzie close, trying to keep her behind me, swinging my own weapons into a ready stance. Grimalkin, I noticed, had disappeared, and I cursed him under my breath. Fey gathered behind the knights, watching and murmuring, as the tension swelled and unspoken violence hung thick on the air.


“Humans.” A knight stepped forward, pointing at me with his sword. He had a sharp face, pointed ears, and was covered head to toe in plate mail. His expression beneath the open helmet was decidedly unfriendly. “How did you get into Mag Tuiredh? Why are you here?”


“I’m here to see the Iron Queen,” I returned, not lowering my weapons, though I had no idea what I could do against so many armored knights. I didn’t think beating on them with a pair of wooden sticks would penetrate that thick steel. Not to mention, they had very sharp swords and lances, all pointed in our direction. “I don’t want any trouble. I just want to talk to Meghan. If you tell her I’m here—”


An angry murmur went through the ranks of fey. “You cannot just walk into the palace and demand an audience with the queen, mortal,” the knight said, swelling indignantly. “Who are you, to demand such things, to speak as if you know her?” He leveled his sword at my throat before I could reply. “Surrender now, intruders. We will take you to the First Lieutenant. He will decide your fate.”


“Hold!” ordered a voice, and the knights straightened immediately. The ranks parted, and a faery came through, glaring at them. Instead of armor, he wore a uniform of black and gray, the silhouette of the same iron tree on his shoulder. His spiky black hair bristled like porcupine quills, and neon strands of lightning flickered and snapped between them.


As he came into the circle, he nodded to me in a genuine show of respect, before turning on the knight. Violet eyes glimmered as he stared him down. “What is the meaning of this?”


“First Lieutenant!” The knight jerked to attention as the rest of the knights did the same. “Sir! We have apprehended these two mortal intruders. They were on their way to the palace, saying they wished an audience with the Iron Queen. We thought it best if we brought them to you. The boy claims to know her—”


“Of course he does!” the faery snapped, scowling, and the knight paled. “I know who he is, though it is apparent that you do not.”


“Sir?”


“Stand down,” said the First Lieutenant, and raised his voice, addressing all the faeries watching this little spectacle. “All of you, stand down! Bow to your prince!”


Uh. What?


Chapter Thirteen


The Iron Prince


“Prince?”


I could feel Kenzie’s disbelieving stare as all the fey surrounding us, knights, civilians and guards alike, lowered their heads and bent at the waist or sank to their knees. Including the First Lieutenant, who put a fist over his heart as he bowed. I wanted to tell them all to stop, to not bother, but it was too late.


Oh, great. I can already hear the questions this is going to bring on.


“Prince Ethan,” the lieutenant said, straightening again. The knights sheathed their weapons, and a glare from a few of the armored fey quickly dispersed the crowd. “This is a surprise. Please excuse my guards. We were not expecting you. Are you here to see your sister?”


“Sister?” Kenzie echoed behind me, her voice climbing several octaves. I resisted the urge to groan.


“It’s…Glitch, right?” I asked, dragging the name up from memory. Glitch was something of a legend even in the real world, the rebel Iron faery who’d joined with Meghan in defeating the false king. I’d seen him once or twice in the past, hanging around the house like a worried bodyguard when Meghan came to visit. I didn’t mind his presence that much; it was another figure I hated, another faery who sometimes waited in the shadows for his queen to return, who never came into the house. He was a legend, too, even more so than Glitch, as one of the three who had taken down the false king and stopped the war. He was also the only normal fey (besides Grimalkin, apparently) who could survive in the Iron Realm. The rumors of how he’d accomplished such an impossible task were long and varied, but the reason behind it was always the same. Because he’d fallen in love with the Iron Queen and would do anything to be with her.


Including take her away from her family, I thought as the old, familiar anger spread through my chest. Including making sure she never leaves Faery. It’s because of you that she stayed, and it’s because of you that she’s gone. If you hadn’t shown up that night to take her back, she would still be in the real world.


But Glitch was still waiting for an answer and probably wouldn’t appreciate my feelings concerning his boss. “Yeah, I came to see Meghan,” I said, shrugging. “Sorry, we couldn’t call ahead of time. She probably doesn’t know I’m here.”


Glitch nodded. “I will inform her majesty right away. If you and your…friend—” the faery lieutenant glanced at Kenzie “—would come with me, I will take you to the Iron Queen.”


He gestured for us to follow, and we trailed him down the cobblestone paths as crowds of iron fey parted for us, bowing as we passed. The knights fell into rank behind us, their clanking echoing through the streets. I tried to ignore them and the way my stomach squirmed with every step that brought us closer to the palace and the Iron Queen.


“If you don’t mind my asking, sire,” Glitch continued, glancing back. His purple eyes regarded us with curious appraisal. “How did you cross over from the mortal world?”


“My doing,” purred another familiar voice, and Grimalkin appeared, walking along the edge of a stone wall. Glitch looked up and sighed.


“Hello again, cat,” he said, not sounding entirely pleased. “Why am I not surprised to see you involved? What have you been scheming lately?”


The cat very deliberately ignored that question, pretending to be occupied with the tiny glittering moths that flitted around the streetlamps. Glitch shook his head, making the lightning in his hair flicker, then stopped at a corner and raised an arm.


A horse and carriage pulled up, both looking decidedly mechanical, the horse’s body made of shifting copper gears and bright metal. The driver, green-skinned beneath his black-and-white coat, tipped his top hat at us. The clockwork dog sitting beside him thumped a wiry tail.


Grimalkin observed the carriage from atop the stone wall and wrinkled his nose.


“I believe I will find my own way to the palace,” he stated, blinking in a bored manner as he looked down at me. “Human, please attempt to stay out of trouble for the last leg of the journey. Mag Tuiredh is not that big a place to become lost in. Do not make me have to come find you again.”


Glitch’s spines bristled. “I will make sure the prince gets to the palace, cait sith,” he snapped, sounding indignant. “Any kin of the Iron Queen in Mag Tuiredh becomes my top priority. He will be perfectly safe here, I assure you.”


“Oh, well, if you say so, Lieutenant, then it must be true.” With a sniff, the cat disappeared, dropping off the wall and vanishing midleap.


Sighing, Glitch pulled open the door and nodded for us to get in. I climbed aboard, and Kenzie followed as the First Lieutenant helped her up the steps, then closed the door behind us.


“I will ride ahead and meet you at the palace,” he told us through the window, and stepped back to the curb. “The queen will be informed of your arrival right away. Welcome to Mag Tuiredh, Prince Ethan.”


He bowed once more, and the carriage started to move, taking his figure from sight. I stared out the window, watching the city of Mag Tuiredh scroll by, feeling Kenzie’s gaze piercing my back. I knew it wouldn’t be long before she started asking questions, and I was right.

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