by Julie Kagawa
“I don’t know,” Meghan said. “But the healers found this on your body.”
She leaned close and handed me something that clinked in my palm. Cold metal pressed against my skin as I stared at the two pieces of copper in my hand. They fit together perfectly, forming a round, flat disk with a triangle etched into the very center.
An amulet. It had been a gift to me from...my mentor, Guro Javier, for protection against the dangers of the Nevernever. But I hadn’t always had it... My brain spun, trying to remember. I had worn it when I’d gone with Keirran to meet the Lady of the Forgotten in Ireland. And standing in the faery ring, surrounded by dozens of Forgotten, the Lady had told Keirran that the way to tear open the Veil—the magic barrier that kept normal humans from seeing the fey—was a sacrifice. A sacrifice of one whose blood tied him to all three courts, who had family in Summer, Winter and Iron. For the exiled fey to live, for the Forgotten to be remembered by humans once more, I had to die.
And then, Keirran had stabbed me. And I had died.
“My healers tell me there was powerful magic surrounding that amulet,” Meghan continued, her tone unnaturally calm. “And when you...died, it shattered. I thought I’d lost you.” Her voice shook, but she composed herself again. “But just as we stopped trying to revive you, your heart started beating. Very, very slowly, and we couldn’t wake you up, but you were alive.” She looked at the broken amulet in my palm, wonder and relief laced through her voice. “Whatever this was, it probably saved your life.”
I stared at the glittering pieces, not knowing what to feel. My emotions were so jumbled up, it was hard to focus on just one. It’s not every day your older sister informs you that you were dead, even if it was for just a few minutes. And that you had been killed, stabbed in the back, by your own family member.
Keirran.
I forced my thoughts away from my traitor nephew. “Mom and Dad?” I asked hoarsely, glancing at Meghan. “Do they know?”
A pained look crossed her face. “They’ve been told where you are,” she replied. “They know you’re with me, in the Nevernever. I told them something happened to you, and that you have to stay here for a while, for your own protection.” She took a shaky breath. “I couldn’t tell them the truth, not yet. It would’ve killed Mom. I was hoping you would wake up before I had to explain what really happened. Why I couldn’t send you home.”
And then, in that dark bedroom, with the shards of the amulet that saved my life glittering between us, Meghan broke down. The mask of the Iron Queen disappeared, and she covered her face with one hand. Her shoulders trembled, and short, quiet sobs escaped her hunched frame, as my heart and stomach twisted themselves into a painful knot. Meghan had always been the strong one; before she’d disappeared into Faery, I could always look to her for everything. True, I was just a little kid back then and worshiped the ground my older sister walked on, but whenever I was tormented by nightmares or terrors or monsters only I could see, Meghan was the one I went to. She was the one who could make me feel safe. Even now, years later, I still couldn’t stand the sight of her unhappy. After she left, I’d spent the greater part of my life resenting her, angry that she’d chosen Them over family and hating the world that had taken her away. But even through all that, I’d still missed my sister like crazy and wished she could come home.
“Hey.” Not knowing what else to do, I leaned over, ignoring the brief moment of vertigo, and took her hand. Her fingers wrapped around mine and squeezed tight, as if to convince her that I was still there. Still alive. “I’m all right,” I told her. “Meghan, it’s okay. I’m still here. I’m not going to die anytime soon.”
“No,” she whispered back. “It’s not okay. It hasn’t been for a while now.” She took a breath, trying to compose herself, though tears continued to stream through her fingers. “I’m sorry, Ethan,” she went on. “I’m so sorry. I wanted to protect you from all of this. I tried so hard to stop it, distancing myself, never visiting, keeping you and K-Keirran apart...” Her voice broke on Keirran’s name, and I felt a rush of grief, anger, guilt and despair surge between us, so strong it made my skin prickle. “I’ve kept so many secrets, hurt so many people, to keep this from happening. Now Keirran is out there, and you almost died...” She shook her head, her grip tightening almost painfully around my fingers. “I’m sorry,” she whispered again. “This is my fault. I knew this was coming. I should have kept a better eye on you both, but I never thought Keirran would... That he was capable of...”
A shudder racked her frame, and she gave another quiet sob. Abruptly, I remembered that, that night, right after Keirran had stabbed me and I had passed out, I’d heard the sound of hoofbeats getting closer. Had that been Meghan and her knights, come to save me? Had she seen Keirran, her only son, run a sword through my body and leave me to die?
And then, I remembered something else.
“That was the prophecy,” I said, feeling like an idiot for not seeing it, for never guessing it. Of course, how could I? How could I have guessed that Keirran, my nephew, and, in all honesty, one of my only friends, would stab me in the back? “The one that had everyone so worried. You, Ash, Puck, even Titania. You all nearly had a heart attack when you saw me and Keirran together. Because of the prophecy.”
Meghan nodded wearily. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you found out,” she said, wiping her eyes as she sat up straighter, facing me. “Who told you?”
“The Oracle,” I said, remembering the dusty old hag with empty holes for eyes, the stabbing pain as she’d touched my head and seemed to sink her talons right into my brain. I remembered the vision flashing through my head: Keirran, covered in blood and with sword in hand, standing over my lifeless body. “Right before she died,” I added, seeing Meghan’s eyes widen. “She was killed by the Forgotten.”
A pained look crossed Meghan’s face. “So, the rumors were true,” she said, almost to herself. “I’m sorry to hear it. We didn’t part on the best terms, but I’ll always be grateful for the help she gave.” She closed her eyes briefly in a moment of silence for the ancient faery, then fixed them on me again. “Did she tell you anything else?” she asked. “What the prophecy meant? How it would come about, and your part in it?”
I shook my head. “She didn’t have time to explain before the Forgotten killed her,” I replied. “All I saw was me on the ground, and Keirran standing there. I mean, I knew I was dead, that she was showing me my death...” I shivered, and I saw Meghan’s jaw tighten, too. “It looked like something had killed me. But, I never thought...that it would be Keirran.”
Anger flared once more, dissolving the last of the shock, and I clenched my fist in the blankets. “But you knew about it,” I told Meghan, and it was hard not to make it sound like an accusation. My sister regarded me sadly as I tried to control my emotions, the feeling of betrayal from all sides. “You knew about the prophecy,” I said again. “That’s why you kept Keirran and me apart. That’s why you never came back.” She didn’t answer, and I leaned forward, determined to get to the bottom of this, once and for all. “How long did you know?”
“Since before Keirran was born,” Meghan replied, her gaze going distant. “The Oracle came to me not long after I became the Iron Queen and told me that my firstborn child would bring nothing but grief. That Keirran was destined to either unite the courts or destroy them.” She looked down at our hands, still held together. “And that the catalyst...was your death, Ethan. If Keirran killed you, that would be the trigger, the start of the destruction.”
I stared at her in disbelief. Before Keirran was even born. That was years of knowing, years of that dark cloud hanging over her head. She had carried the knowledge that her son might do something horrible for his entire life.
“And now, it’s happened,” Meghan said, her voice flat. “The prophecy has come to pass. Keirran has started something he can never undo, and I must respond, as
queen of this land.”
I felt a cold lump settle in my gut, and I swallowed the dryness in my throat. “What’s going on?” I asked, my voice coming out faint. I was almost afraid of the answer. “Where is Keirran, anyway?”
“No one has seen him since that night,” Meghan replied. “But we have reason to believe he is with the Forgotten.”
The Forgotten. The fey who were slowly fading from existence because no one remembered them anymore. The blood froze in my veins. If I had “died,” then the Veil—the thing that had kept Faery hidden and invisible to humans—was gone. Keirran believed that destroying it would save the Forgotten, providing them with the human belief that they desperately needed to survive, as they had no glamour of their own. But I could only imagine the worldwide terror, chaos and madness that would have ensued if all humankind had suddenly discovered the fey were real.
“What happened?” I asked, looking up at Meghan. She closed her eyes, making dread settle in my stomach. Had Keirran really started a Faery apocalypse? “Was the Veil destroyed?” I choked out. “Can everyone see the fey now?”
“No,” Meghan whispered, making me slump in relief. “It’s not possible to permanently destroy the Veil,” she went on. “Even if the ritual had worked the way it was supposed to, the Veil would have eventually re-formed. But...” She hesitated, her voice going grave. “When you died, the entire Nevernever felt it. There was this surge, this ripple of emotion from the mortal world, the likes of which Faery has never felt before. It went through the courts, the wyldwood, Mag Tuiredh, everywhere. We didn’t know what it was at first, then reports started coming in from the human world. For a few minutes after your death, Ethan, the Veil was gone. For a few minutes...”
“People could see the fey,” I finished in a whisper.
Meghan nodded. “Thankfully, after you revived, the Veil came back quickly, and minutes afterward, everyone forgot what they’d seen. But, in that short time, the human world was in chaos. Many people were injured trying to escape, kill or capture the faeries they came across. Some went mad, or thought they had gone mad. A great many half-breeds were hurt, some even killed, when the humans saw them for what they were. It was only a few minutes, but the event still left its mark. Both our worlds are still recovering, even if one doesn’t know from what.”
I felt sick and tried not to think of what I knew could have happened the night I had died. “Mom and Dad?” I asked in a strangled voice. I never thought I’d have to worry about the ones I left behind in the mortal realm, the normal world, but all bets were off, it seemed. “Where were they that night?”
“They’re fine,” Meghan assured me, sounding relieved herself. “They were both asleep when it happened, and your anti-faery charms kept their house safe. By the time they woke up, everything was mostly back to normal. Though there was a lot of confusion, fear and anger in the days that followed.”
I breathed deep, dispelling the knot of panic in my stomach. At least my family was all right, safe from the faery madness that had apparently swept the world. Though something else nagged at me. Frowning, I raked my fuzzy memories of that night, trying to recall what was real and what was nightmare. There was something I was forgetting...or someone. Keirran and I had gone to Ireland together to meet the Forgotten Queen, but we had left someone else behind...
“Kenzie!” I gasped, feeling my gut knot once more. Kenzie had had the amulet—it had saved her life a few times while we were in the Nevernever—but she’d given it back to me when I’d left her in the hospital that last night. My mind swirled with memories of a slight, defiant girl with dark brown eyes and blue streaks in her hair. Mackenzie St. James had been the third part of our little trio, a girl who bargained with faery queens to gain the Sight, argued with obnoxious talking cats and blatantly refused to stay safely behind in the mortal world. Cheerful, stubborn, relentless, she had followed me into Faery, ignoring all my attempts to keep her at arm’s length, and I had, against all my better judgment, fallen completely in love with her.
I’d told her as much, the night Keirran and I had gone to Ireland to meet the Forgotten Queen. We’d had to leave her behind because Keirran had picked a fight—with Titania, of all faeries, the freaking queen of the Summer Court—and Kenzie had gotten caught in the middle. I remembered my whispered confession that night in her hospital room, remembered my promise to return, and felt like throwing up. How much time had passed in the real world? Was Kenzie all right? Was she still waiting for me?
Or had she moved on, convinced that Faery had swallowed me whole once more, and I wasn’t coming back this time?
“Where’s Kenzie?” I asked Meghan, who gave me a concerned look. “She was in the hospital the night I left with Keirran. Is she all right? Where is she now?”
Meghan sighed. “I don’t know, Ethan,” she said, making my pulse spike with worry. “I wasn’t aware the girl was injured. Had I known, I would have sent someone to check up on her. But between you and Keirran and the upcoming war, I haven’t had time to think of much else. I’m sorry.”
“War? What war?”
For a moment, Meghan seemed to stare right through me, her expression one of guilt, anger and grief. But then she rose, and the persona of the Iron Queen filled the room, composed and resolved, making the air crackle with power.
“The Forgotten Queen has grown strong enough to invade the Nevernever.” Meghan answered calmly, though her eyes were hard. “Her army of Forgotten have left the mortal realm and have crossed into the wyldwood. There is to be a council tomorrow night in Tir Na Nog to decide what must be done. If it is to be war, we are at a disadvantage.”
“Why?”
She paused, a thread of anguish creeping into her voice as she answered, turning my stomach inside out.
“Because Keirran is leading them.”
CHAPTER THREE
CRASHING THE UNSEELIE COUNCIL
I stared out the window as the carriage rattled through the streets of Mag Tuiredh, the Victorian steampunk city of the Iron fey. The wide cobblestone streets teemed with faeries, and the dying evening sun glinted off bright metal, copper, wire and clockwork, mostly from the fey themselves. Gremlins skittered over the walls and towers, flashing neon blue grins. A trio of wraiths made of rags and iron cables fluttered across the street, leaving the smell of battery acid in their wake. A green-skinned faery in coattails and a top hat paused at a corner and bowed his head as we passed, a rusty clockwork hound sitting patiently beside him.
Glitch, Meghan’s first lieutenant, sat across from me, the strands of neon lightning in his hair making the walls of the carriage flicker like a strobe light. It was giving me a headache, and I’d already been feeling kinda sick. Between Meghan’s news last night and the nagging dread about where we were going now, I could probably puke with very little effort.
Also, I was still recovering from being run through with a sword. That might’ve had something to do with it.
“Are you well, Prince Ethan?” Glitch asked, regarding me with concern.
I glanced his way, trying not to be sullen. The slight faery lounged in the opposite corner, watching my every move. Like all Gentry, Glitch looked young, no older than me, though I knew he’d been in the Iron Realm since before Meghan became queen. I also knew Meghan put him here to babysit me, and, though it wasn’t his fault, I resented being under the watch of some punky-looking faery with purple plasma-globe hair.
“Yeah.” I sighed, staring out the window again. “I’m fine.” I wanted to tell him not to call me prince, but it would do no good. I was the queen’s brother. Therefore, at least to the faeries of Mag Tuiredh, I was a prince.
Although, where we were headed, I doubted even being the Iron Queen’s brother would do me any good.
Tir Na Nog. The Winter Court, home of Queen Mab and the Unseelie fey. And the last place I wanted to find myself in the Nevernev
er. All of Faery was dangerous, of course; even Meghan’s kingdom was not completely safe, but it paled in comparison to Mab’s realm. The Iron fey were a weird, quirky, eccentric bunch; They could be annoying, They could be deadly, but from what I’d seen, They wouldn’t rip your face off just for the fun of it. The same could not be said for the Unseelie Court, which boasted entertaining things like goblins, redcaps and ogres. And all the dark, twisted creatures you did not want to meet in a dark alley or under your bed.
You wanted this, I reminded myself. You insisted on coming. You argued with Meghan to be here. This is your own damn fault.
A lump settled in my stomach as I remembered the heated words from this morning and the hasty actions that led to this trip.
* * *
“Sire, you’re not supposed to be up.”
I glared at the faery in the long white coat, wondering if he had been lurking outside my door, waiting to pounce as soon as I got out of bed. It was early afternoon, and I’d already been poked, prodded and fussed over far longer than I thought was necessary. Meghan was off ruling the Iron Realm, so I had been left to the mercy of several attentive but annoying healer fey, who swarmed around me with needles and thermometers, asking multiple times if I was in any pain. My repeated assurances that I was fine seemed only to convince them that I was not. Finally, after deciding for themselves that I was in no danger of dying a second time, the swarm had left me, with firm instructions to stay in bed and not push myself.
Yeah, like that was going to happen.
“I’m fine,” I told this new healer, who arched his bushy eyebrows at me, making me wince. I’m fine seemed to be their code for I’m really feeling quite awful and need immediate medical attention. “Where are my clothes?” I went on, hoping to stall him from calling the rest of the swarm. “I don’t need to rest—I need to talk to my sister. Where is she?”