The Faery Ring
“Better hurry, darlings,” Leanansidhe announced, walking into the dining room with a swooshing of fabric and smoke. “The witching hour is fast approaching, at least where you’re headed. And it will be a full moon tonight, so you really don’t want to miss your window.” She glanced at me, wandering back to the corner of the room, and sighed. “Ethan, darling, why don’t you sit down and eat? You’re making my brownies very nervous with all that pacing.”
Too bad for them, I thought, chewing a roll I’d snagged from the dining-room table in the middle of the room. The table was enormous and covered with enough food to feed an army, but I couldn’t sit still. Keirran and Kenzie sat opposite each other, talking quietly and occasionally giving me worried looks as I paced around them, while Razor cavorted among the plates, scattering food and making small messes. Several redcaps, dressed in butler suits with pink bow ties, skulked back and forth, cleaning up and looking like they really wanted to bite the gremlin’s head off. I kept a wary eye on them every time they approached Kenzie, tensing to jump in if they so much as looked at her. They reminded me of the motley that had chased me into the library and set it on fire, leading to my expulsion. If they made any threatening moves toward Kenzie, even a leer, they were going to get an expensive china plate to the back of the skull.
“Ethan,” Leanansidhe warned, “you’re wearing a hole through my carpet, darling. Sit down.” She pointed to a chair with her cigarette holder, pursing her lips. “The minions aren’t going to bite anyone’s knees off, and I’d hate to have to turn you into a harp for the rest of the evening. Sit.”
I pulled out a chair beside Kenzie and sat, still glaring at the biggest redcap, the guy with the fishhook through his nose. He sneered and bared his teeth, but then Razor knocked over a platter of fruit, and he hurried off with a curse. Leanansidhe threw up her hands.
“Keirran, dove. Your gremlin. Please keep it under control.” The Exile Queen pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed heavily. “Worse than having Robin Goodfellow in my house,” she murmured, as Kenzie clapped her hands, and Razor bounced happily into her lap. Leanansidhe shook her head. “Anyway, darlings, when you are finished here, I will have Annwyl show you the way to the trod. Meet her in the main hall, and she will take you out through the basement. If you have any questions about the ritual, I’m sure she can answer them for you.” At the mention of Annwyl’s name, Keirran glanced up, and Leanansidhe smiled at him. “I’m not a compete soulless harpy all the time, darling. Besides, you two remind me of another pair, and I just adore the irony.” She snapped her fingers and handed her cigarette flute to the redcap who scurried up. “Now, I’m off to meet a jinn about another disappearance, so don’t wait up for me, darlings. Oh, and, Kenzie, pet, when you finish the ritual, you might feel a bit odd for a moment.”
“Odd?”
“Nothing to worry about, dove.” The Exile Queen waved her hand. “Merely the completion of our bargain. I will see you three again soon, but not too soon, I hope.” She looked directly at me when she said this, before turning away in a swirl of glitter and lights. “Ciao, darlings!”
And she was gone.
As soon as she left, Annwyl came into the room, not looking at any of us. “Leanansidhe has bid me to show you to the faery ring tonight,” she said in her musical voice, gazing straight ahead. “We can leave whenever you are ready, but the ritual takes place at midnight, so we should depart soon—”
She paused as Keirran pushed back his chair and walked up to her. Taking her hand, the prince drew her to the table and pulled out the chair next to his, while Razor giggled and waved at her from Kenzie’s lap.
“I really shouldn’t be here,” Annwyl said, perching gingerly on the seat. Her green eyes darted around the room, as if the Exile Queen was hiding somewhere, listening to her. “If Leanansidhe finds out—”
“She can take it up with me,” Keirran broke in, sliding into his own chair. “Just because you have to be here doesn’t mean Leanansidhe should treat you like a servant.” He sighed, and for a second, his expression darkened. “I’m sorry. I know you miss Arcadia. I wish there was another place you could go.”
“I’m fine, Keirran.” Annwyl smiled at him, though her expression was wistful. “Avoiding Leanansidhe isn’t much different than avoiding Queen Titania in one of her moods. I worry most for you. I don’t want you to accede to Leanansidhe’s every whim and favor because of me.”
Keirran stared down at his plate. “If Leanansidhe asked me to fight a dragon,” he said in his quiet, sincere voice, “if it meant keeping you safe, I would go into the depths of the Deep Wyld and fight Tiamat herself.”
“How long have you two known each other?” Kenzie asked, as I gagged silently into a coffee mug. These two just needed to admit defeat and get on with it already.
Keirran spared her a quick glance and a smile. “I’m not sure,” he admitted, shrugging. “It’s hard to say exactly, especially in human years.”
“We met at Elysium,” Annwyl put in. “Midsummer’s Eve. When Oberon was hosting. I was chosen to perform a dance for the rulers of the courts. And when it started, I noticed that the son of the Iron Queen couldn’t stop staring at me the whole time.”
“I remember that dance,” Keirran said. “You were beautiful. But when I tried to talk to you, you ran away.” He gave me and Kenzie a wry grin. “No one from Summer or Winter wants to talk to the Prince of the Iron Realm. I’d poison their blood or shoot toxic vapors from my nose or something. Annwyl even sicced a school of undine on me once when I was visiting Arcadia. I very nearly drowned.”
Annwyl blushed. “But that didn’t deter you, did it?”
“So, how did you end up here?” I asked. And Keirran’s eyes narrowed.
“Summer Court politics,” he said, frowning. “One of the minor nobles was jealous about Annwyl’s proximity to Titania, that she was a personal favorite, so she started the rumor that Annwyl was more beautiful and graceful and gifted than even the Summer Queen, and that Oberon would be blind not to see her.”
I winced. “That didn’t go over well, I’m sure.”
“Titania heard of it, of course.” Annwyl sighed. “By then, the rumor had spread so far there was no telling who first mentioned such a thing. The Queen was furious, and even though I denied it, she still feared I would steal her husband’s attention away.”
“So she banished you,” I muttered. “Yeah, that sounds like her.”
“She banished you?” Kenzie repeated, sounding outraged, “because someone said you were prettier? That’s totally unfair! Can’t any of the other rulers do something about it? You’re the prince of the Iron Realm,” she said, looking at Keirran. “Can’t you get the Iron Queen to help?”
Keirran grimaced. “Ah, I’m not really supposed to be here,” he said with a half embarrassed, half defiant smile. “If the other courts knew I was hanging around the Exile Queen, they wouldn’t approve. They’re afraid she’ll put treasonous thoughts in my head, or use me to overthrow the other rulers. But…” And his eyes hardened, the shadow of his father creeping over him, making him look more fey than before. “I don’t care what the courts dictate. Annwyl shouldn’t suffer because Titania is a jealous shrew. So, I asked Leanansidhe to do me a favor, to let her stay here, with the rest of the exiles. It’s not ideal, but it’s better than being out in the real world.”
“Why?” asked Kenzie.
“Because faeries banished to the real world, with no way to get home, eventually fade away into nothing,” Annwyl said solemnly. “That’s why exile is so terrifying. Cut off from the Nevernever, surrounded by iron and technology and humans that no longer believe in magic, we slowly lose ourselves, until we cease to exist at all.”
“Except the Iron fey,” I put in, glancing at Keirran. “So, you’d be in no danger.”
“Well, that and I’m partly human,” he replied, shrugging. “You’re right—iron has no effect on me. But for a Summer fey…” He glanced at Annwyl, worry shining from his eyes. No explanation was needed.
The Summer girl sniffed. “I’m not as delicate as that, Prince Keirran,” Annwyl said, giving him a wry smile. “You make me sound as fragile as a butterfly wing. I watched the druids perform their rites under the full moon long before your ancestors ever set foot on the land. I’m not going to blow away in the first strong wind that comes through the mortal world. Speaking of which,” she went on, rising from the table, “we should get going. Midnight isn’t far now, not where we’re headed. I’ll show you the way.”
* * *
I followed Annwyl, Keirran and Kenzie back through Leanansidhe’s huge basement—or dungeon, I guess—trailing a few steps behind to glare at the things skulking in the shadows. Annwyl had warned us that it might be cold once we emerged from the trod, and Kenzie wore a “borrowed” wool jacket that was two sizes too big for her. The Summer girl offered to find one for me, claiming Leanansidhe had tons of human clothes lying around that she’d never miss, but I didn’t want to put myself into her or Leanansidhe’s debt any more than I had to, so I refused. As usual, I carried my rattan sticks, in case we were jumped by anything nasty. They were starting to fray a little, though, and I found myself wishing more and more for the solid, steel blade in my room at home.
Was I ready for this? Or, more important, was Kenzie ready for this? I’d always considered my Sight a curse, something that I feared and hated and wished I didn’t have. It had brought me nothing but trouble.
But to hear Kenzie talk about it, she considered the Sight a gift, something that she was willing to bargain for, something that was worth a tiny piece of her life. It staggered me; the fey were manipulative, untrustworthy and dangerous, that was something I’d always known. How could we see them so differently? And how was I going to protect her, once they realized she had the Sight, as well?
Wait. Why are you even thinking about that? What happened to your promise to not get involved? I felt a stab of annoyance with myself for bringing that up, but my thoughts continued ruthlessly. You can’t protect her. Once you find Todd and get home, she’ll go back to her world, and you’ll go back to yours. Everyone who hangs around you gets hurt, remember? The best protection you can give anyone is staying the hell away from them.
Yeah, but it was different now. Kenzie was going to have the Sight. She’d be drawn even more heavily into my crazy, screwed-up world, and she was going to need someone to show her the ins and outs of Faery.
Don’t kid yourself, Ethan. That’s an excuse. You just want to see her. Admit it; you don’t want to let her go.
So…what if I didn’t?
“We’re here,” Annwyl said quietly, stopping at a large stone arch flanked by torch-holding gargoyles. “The ring isn’t far. Past this doorway are woods, and then a stretch of moor, with the faery ring in the center of a small grove. It shouldn’t be long now.” She started forward, but Keirran caught her wrist.
“Annwyl, wait,” he said, and she turned back. “Maybe you should stay here,” he suggested, looking down at her hand. “We can find the ring on our own.”
“Keirran…”
“If those things are anywhere nearby—”
“I’m sure you’ll protect me. And I’m not entirely defenseless, either.”
“But—”
“Keirran.” Stepping close, Annwyl, placed a palm on his cheek. “I can’t hide out at Leanansidhe’s forever.”
He sighed, covering the hand with his own. “I know. I just…worry.” Releasing her, he gestured to the arch. “All right then, after you.”
Annwyl ducked through the arch, disappearing into the black, Keirran close behind her. I looked at Kenzie, and she smiled back.
“Are you absolutely sure this is what you want?”
She nodded. “I’m sure.”
“You know I’m probably going to hover around you for the rest of your life, now. I’ll be that creepy stalker guy, always watching you through the fence or following you down the hallway, making sure you’re all right.”
“Oh?” She laughed. “Is that all it takes to get you to stick around? I should’ve done the whole bargain-your-life-away-to-the-faeries thing sooner.”
I didn’t see how she could joke about it, but I half smiled. “I’ll be sure to wear a hockey mask, then. So you know it’s me.”
We went through the arch.
And emerged between two giant, rectangular-shaped rocks standing in the middle of an open field. As Annwyl had warned, the air on this side of the trod was icy. It swept across the rolling moors and sliced through my T-shirt, making my skin prickle. Above us, the sky was crystal clear, with a huge white moon blazing down directly overhead, turning everything black and silver. From where we stood, atop a small rise that sloped gently away into the moors, you could see for miles.
“Wow.” Kenzie sighed. “Now I really, really wish I had my camera.”
Annwyl pointed a graceful finger down the slope to a cluster of trees at the foot of a rocky hill. “The ring is there,” she said quietly with a brief glance toward the sky. “And the moon is nearly right overhead. We must hurry. But remember,” she warned, “when the full moon shines down on a faery ring, the fey will appear to dance. We will not be alone.”
We started down the slope, picking our way over rocks and bramble, as the wind moaned softly around us and made me shiver with more than the cold. As we drew closer to the trees, I could hear faint strands of music on the wind, the whispers of many voices rising in song. My heart pounded, and I clenched my fists, ignoring the voices and the sudden urge to follow them, the pull that drew me steadily toward the dark clump of trees.
Movement flashed between the trunks, and the whispered song grew clearer, more insistent. I noticed Kenzie, tilting her head with a puzzled expression, as if she could just barely hear something on the wind.
Afraid that she might slip off without me, lured away by the intoxicating faery music, I reached for her hand, trapping it in mine. She blinked at me, startled, before giving me a smile and squeezing my palm. I kept a tight hold of her as we slipped through the forest, walking toward the music and lights, until the trees opened up and we stood at the edge of a clearing full of fey.
Music swirled around the clearing, dark and haunting and compelling. It took all my willpower not to walk toward the circle of unearthly dancers in the center of the glade. Summer sidhe, tall, gorgeous and elegant, swayed and danced in the moonlight, their movements hypnotic and graceful. Piskies and faery lights bobbed in the air, winking in and out like enormous fireflies.
“Ethan,” Kenzie whispered, staring at the clearing. Her voice sounded dazed. “There is something here, right? I keep thinking I hear music, and…” Her fingers tightened around mine. “I really want to go stand in that ring over there.”
I followed her gaze. Surrounding the dancers, seeming to glow in the darkness, a ring of enormous white toadstools stood in a perfect circle in the center of the glade. The ring was huge, nearly thirty feet across, the mushrooms forming a complete, unbroken circle. Strands of moonlight slanted in through the branches overhead, dappling the ground inside the circle, and even I could feel that this was a place of old, powerful magic.
“It’s calling me,” Kenzie whispered, as the circle of dancing fey suddenly stopped, their inhuman eyes trained on us. Smiling, they held out their hands, and the urge to join them returned, powerful and compelling. I clamped down on my will to stay where I was and squeezed Kenzie’s hand in a death grip.
Keirran lifted his arm to let Razor scurry to an overhead branch. “I hope they don’t mind us interrupting their dancing,” he murmured. “Wait here. I’ll explain what’s going on.”
I watched him walk confidently up to the observing sidhe, who waited for him with varying degrees of curiosity and alarm. They knew who he was, I realized. The son of the Iron Queen, the prince of the Iron Court, was probably someone you would remember, especially if his glamour was essentially fatal to you.
Keirran spoke quietly to the circle of dancers, who glanced up at us, smiled knowingly, and bowed.
Keirran stepped into the circle, turned and held out his hand. “All right, Kenzie,” he called. “It’s almost time. Are you ready?”
She gave me a brave smile, released my hand, and stepped forward. Crossing the line of mushrooms, not seeing the dancers that parted for her, she walked steadily toward Keirran, waiting in the center.
I started to follow, but Annwyl stopped me at the edge, putting out her arm.
“You cannot be there with her.”
“The hell I can’t,” I shot back. “I’m not leaving her alone with them.”
“Only the mortal who wishes the Sight is allowed in the ring,” Annwyl continued calmly. “Otherwise the ritual will fail. Your girl must do this by herself.” She smiled, giving me a soothing look. “She will be fine. As long as Keirran is there, nothing will harm her.”
Worried, hating the barrier separating us now, I stood at the edge of the toadstools and watched Kenzie walk up to the figure waiting in the center of the ring. It might’ve been the moonlight, the strangeness of the surroundings, or the unearthly dancers, but Keirran didn’t look remotely human anymore. He looked like a bright, glowing faery, his silver hair reflecting the pale light streaming around him, his ice-blue eyes shining in the darkness. I clenched my fist around my rattan as Kenzie approached him, looking small and very mortal in comparison.
The faery prince smiled at her and suddenly drew a dagger, the deadly blade flashing in the shadows like a fang. I tensed, but he held it between them, point up, though the deadly cutting edge was still turned toward the girl.
“Blood must be spilled for the recipient to gain the Sight,” Annwyl murmured as Keirran’s lips moved, probably reciting the same thing to Kenzie. “For something to be given, something must be taken. A few drops are all that is needed.”
Kenzie paused just a moment, then reached a hand out to the blade. Keirran kept the weapon perfectly still. I saw her brace herself, then quickly run her thumb along the sharp edge, wincing. Drops of blood fell from the blade and her hand, sparkling as they caught the light. A collective sigh went through the circle of fey around them as the crimson drops hit the earth, and I shivered.
“Now only one thing remains,” Annwyl whispered, and there was a glint of amber as Kenzie pulled out the vial. “But be warned,” she continued, speaking almost to herself, though I had the suspicion she was doing this for my benefit, letting me hear what was going on. “The Sight goes both ways. Not only will you be aware of the fey, they will be aware of you, as well. The Hidden Ones always know whose gazes can pierce the mist and the glamour, who can see through the Veil into the heart of Faery.” Keirran stepped back a pace, raising his hand, as if calling her forward. “If you are prepared to embrace this world, to stand between them and be a part of neither, then complete your final task, and join us.”
Kenzie looked back at me, blood slowly dripping from her cut fingers to spatter in the grass. I don’t know if she expected me to leap in and try to stop her, or if she was just checking to see my reaction. Maybe she was asking, hoping, for my consent, my approval. I couldn’t give her that; I’d be lying if I said I could, but I wasn’t going to stop her. She had made up her mind for reasons of her own; all I could do now was watch over and try to keep her safe.
I managed a tiny nod, and that was all she needed. Tipping her head back, she put the vial to her lips, and the contents were gone in a heartbeat.
A breeze hissed through the clearing, rattling the branches and making the grass sway. I thought I heard tiny, whispering voices on the wind, a tangle of words spoken too fast to understand, but they were gone before I had the chance to listen. In the center of the ring, Kenzie stumbled, as if she was being battered by gale force winds, and fell to her knees.
I leaped across the toadstools, through the watching fey, who paid me no attention, and dropped beside her as she knelt in the grass. One hand clutched her heart, gasping. Her face was very pale, and I thought she was going to faint.
“Kenzie!” I caught her as she doubled over, gasping soundlessly. “Are you all right? What’s happening?” I glared at Keirran, who hadn’t moved from where he stood, and gestured sharply. “Keirran, what’s going on? Get over here and help!”
“It’s all right,” Kenzie said, gripping my arm and slowly sitting up. She took a deep breath, and color returned to her cheeks and lips, easing my panic. “It’s fine, Ethan. I’m fine. I just…couldn’t catch my breath for a second. What happened?”
“Leanansidhe,” Annwyl said, joining Keirran a few feet away. Their gazes were solemn as they watched us, beautiful and inhuman under the moon. “The Dark Muse has taken her price.”
Dread gripped my stomach with a cold hand. But Kenzie wasn’t looking at me, or any of us, anymore. Her mouth was open in a small O, as she slowly stood up, staring at the ring of fey surrounding us. “Have…have they been here the whole time?” she whispered.
Keirran gave her a small, faintly sad smile. “Welcome to our world.”
One of the Summer sidhe came forward, tall and elegant in a cloak of leaves, golden hair braided down his back. “Come,” he said, holding out a long-fingered hand. “A mortal gaining the Sight is cause for celebration. One more to see us, one more to remember. Tonight, we will dance for you. Prince Keirran....” He turned and bowed his head to the silver haired fey across from me. “With your permission…”
Keirran nodded solemnly. And the music rose up once more, eerily compelling, haunting and beautiful. The fey began to dance, swirling around us, flashes of color and graceful limbs. And suddenly, Kenzie was in that crowd, swept from my side before I could stop it, eyes bright as she danced among the fey.
I started forward, heart pounding, but Keirran held out his arm. “It’s all right,” he said. I turned to glare at him, but his face was calm. “Let her have this. Nothing will harm her tonight. I promise.”
The promise thing threw me. If you were a faery and you said the word promise, you were bound to carry it through, no matter what. And if they couldn’t keep that promise, they would die, so it was a pretty serious thing. I didn’t know if Keirran’s human side protected him from that particular rule, or if he really meant it, but I forced myself to relax, watching Kenzie twirl and spin among the unearthly dancers.
Resentment bubbled. A part of me, a large part, actually, wanted to grab Kenzie and pull her back, away from the faeries and their world and the things that wanted to hurt her. I couldn’t help it. The fey had tormented me all my life; nothing good had come out of knowing them, seeing them. My sister had ventured into their world, become their queen, and they’d taken her from me.
And now, Kenzie was a part of that world, too.
“Hey.”
I turned. Kenzie had broken away from the circle and now stood behind me, the moonlight shining off her raven hair. She’d dropped her coat and looked like some kind of faery herself, graceful and slight, smiling at me. My breath caught as she extended a hand. “Come and dance,” she urged.
I took a step back. “No thanks.”
“Ethan.”
“I don’t want to dance with the faeries,” I protested, still backing away. “It breaks my Things-Your-Classmates-Won’t-Beat-You-Up-For rule.”
Kenzie wasn’t impressed. She rolled her eyes, grabbed my hand and tugged me forward even as I half resisted.
“You’re not dancing with the faeries,” she said, as I made one last attempt to stop, to hang on to my dignity. “You’re dancing with me.”
“Kenzie…”
“Tough guy,” she answered, pulling me close. My heart stuttered, looking into her eyes. “Live a little. For me.”
I sighed in defeat, let go of my resolve.
And danced with the fey.
It was easy, once you actually let yourself go. The faery music made it nearly impossible not to lose yourself, to close your eyes and let it consume you. I still kept a tiny hold on my willpower as I swayed with Kenzie, back and forth in the center of the ring, while beautifully inhuman Summer fey twirled around us.
Kenzie moved closer, leaning her head on my chest while her arms snaked around my waist. “You’re actually really good at this,” she murmured, while my heartbeat started thudding loudly in her ear. “Did they teach dancing in kali?”
I snorted. “Only the kind with sticks and knives,” I muttered, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through my stomach, making it hard to think. “Though my old school did make us take a class in ballroom dancing. For our final grade, we had to wear formal attire and waltz around the gym in front of the whole school.”
“Ouch.” Kenzie giggled.
“That’s not the worst of it. Half the class played sick that day, and I was one of the only guys to show up, so of course they made me dance with everyone. My mom still has the pictures.” I looked down at the top of her head. “And if you tell anyone about that, I may have to kill you.”
She giggled again, muffling her laughter in my shirt. I kept my hands on her slim hips, feeling her body sway against mine. As the eerie music swirled around us, I knew that if I remembered anything about this night, it would be this moment, right now. With Kenzie less than a breath away, the moonlight spilling down on her as she danced, graceful as any faery.
“Ethan?”
“Yeah?”
She paused, tracing the fabric along my ribs, not knowing how crazy it was making me. “How ’bout that interview now?”
I let out a long breath. “What do you want to know?”
“You said people around you get hurt, that I wasn’t the only one the fey targeted because of you,” she continued, and my stomach dropped. “Will you… Can you tell me what happened? Who was the other person?”
Groaning, I closed my eyes. “It’s not something I like to talk about,” I muttered. “It took years for the nightmares to finally stop. I haven’t told anyone about it, ever…”
“It might help,” Kenzie said quietly. “Getting it off your chest, I mean. But if you don’t want to, I understand.”
I held her, listening to the music, to the faeries spinning around us. I remembered that day; the horror and fear that people would find out, the crushing guilt because I knew I couldn’t tell anyone. Would Kenzie hate me if I told her? Would she finally understand why I kept my distance? Maybe it was time…to tell someone. It would be a relief, perhaps. To voice the secret that had been hanging over me for years. To finally let it go.
All right, then. I’ll…try.
“It was about six years ago,” I began, swallowing the dryness in my throat. “We—my parents and I—had just moved into the city from our little backwater farm. My parents raised pigs, you know, before we came here. There’s an interesting freebie for your interview. The tough guy’s parents were pig farmers.”
Kenzie was quiet, and I instantly regretted the cynical jab. “Anyway—” I sighed, squeezing her hand in apology “—I met this girl, Samantha. She lived on my block, and we went to the same school, so we became friends pretty quick. I was really shy back then—” Kenzie snorted, making me smile “—and Sam was pretty bossy, much like someone else whose name I won’t mention.” She pinched my ribs, and I grunted. “So, I usually ended up following her wherever she wanted to go.”
“I’m having a hard time picturing that,” Kenzie murmured with a faint smile. “I keep seeing this scowling little kid, stomping around and glaring at everyone.”
“Believe what you want, I was actually pretty docile back then. The scowling and setting things on fire came later.”
Kenzie shook her head, feathery black strands brushing my cheek. “So, what happened?” she asked softly.
I sobered. “Sam was horse crazy,” I continued, seeing the red-haired girl in the back of my mind, wearing her cowboy hat. “Her room was full of horse posters and model ponies. She went to equestrian camp every summer, and the only thing she ever wanted for her birthday was an Appaloosa filly. We lived in the suburbs, so it was impossible for her to keep a horse in her backyard, but she was saving up for one just the same.”
Kenzie’s palm lingered on my chest, right over my heart, which was pounding against her fingers. “And then, one day,” I continued, swallowing hard, “we were at the park, for her birthday, and this small black horse came wandering out of the trees. I knew what it was, of course. It had un-glamoured itself, so that Sam could see it, too, and didn’t run away when she walked up to it.”
“It was a faery?” Kenzie whispered.
“A phouka,” I muttered darkly. “And it knew what it was doing, the way it kept staring at me. I was terrified. I wanted to leave, to go back and find the grown-ups, but Sam wouldn’t listen to me. She kept rubbing its neck and feeding it bread crumbs, and the thing acted so friendly and tame that she was convinced it was just someone’s pony that had gotten loose. Of course, that’s what it wanted her to think.”
“Phoukas,” Kenzie muttered, her voice thoughtful. “I think I read about them. They disguise themselves as horses or ponies, to lure people onto their backs.” She drew in a sharp breath. “Did Sam try to ride it?”
I closed my eyes. “I told her not to.” My voice came out shaky at the end. “I begged her not to ride it, but she threatened she would make me sorry if I went and blabbed. And I didn’t do anything. I watched her lead it to a picnic bench and swing up like she did with every horse in her summer camp. I knew what it was, and I didn’t stop her.” A familiar chill ran up my spine as I remembered, just before Sam hopped on, the phouka turned its head and gave me a grin that was more demonic than anything I’d ever seen. “As soon as she was on its back,” I whispered, “it was gone. It took off through the trees, and I could hear her screaming the whole way.”
Kenzie clenched her fingers in my shirt. “Did she—”
“They found her later in the woods,” I interrupted. “Maybe a mile from where we had first seen the phouka. She was still alive but…” I stopped, took a careful breath to clear my throat. “But her back was broken. She was paralyzed from the waist down.”
“Oh, Ethan.”
“Her parents moved after that.” My voice sounded flat in my ears, like a stranger’s. “Sam didn’t remember the black pony—that’s another quirk about the fey. The memory fades, and people usually forget about them. No one blamed me, of course. It was a freak accident, only…I knew it wasn’t. I knew if I had said more, argued more, I could have saved her. Sam would’ve been angry with me, but she would still be okay.”
“It—”
“Don’t say ‘it’s not your fault,’” I whispered harshly. There was a stinging sensation in my throat, and my eyes were suddenly blurry. Releasing her, I turned away, not wanting her to see me fall apart. “I knew what that thing was,” I gritted out. “It was there because of me, not Sam. I could have physically stopped her from getting on, but I didn’t, because I was afraid she wouldn’t like me. All her dreams of riding her own horse, of competing in rodeos, she lost it all. Because I was too scared to do anything.”
Kenzie was silent, though I could feel her watching me. Around us, the faery dancers twirled in the moonlight, graceful and hypnotic, but I couldn’t see their beauty anymore. All I could see was Sam, the way she laughed, the way she bounced from place to place, never still. She would never run again, or go hiking through the woods, or ride her beloved horses. Because of me.
“That’s why I can’t get let anyone get close,” I rasped. “If Sam taught me anything, it’s that I can’t afford to have friends. I can’t take that chance. I don’t care if the fey come after me—I’ve dodged them all my life. But they’re not satisfied with just hurting me. They’ll go after anyone I care about. That’s what they do. And I can’t stop them. I can’t protect anyone but myself and my family, so it’s better if people leave me alone. No one gets hurt that way.”
“Except you.”
“Yeah.” I sighed, scrubbing a hand over my face. “Just me. I can handle that.” A heaviness was spreading through me, gathering in my chest, that same feeling of helpless despair, the knowledge that I couldn’t do anything, not really. That I could only watch as the people around me became targets, victims. “But, now…you’re here. And…”
Her arms slipped around my waist from behind, making my heart jump. I drew in a sharp breath as she pressed her cheek to my back. “And you’re scared I’m going to end up like Sam,” she whispered.
“Kenzie, if something happened to you because of me—”
“Stop it.” She gave me a little shake. “Ethan, you can’t control what they do,” she said firmly. “Stop blaming yourself. Faeries will play their nasty tricks and games whether you can see them or not. The fey have always tormented humans, isn’t that what you told me?”
“Yeah, but—”
“No buts.” She shook me again, her voice firm. “You didn’t make that girl get on that phouka. You tried to warn her. Ethan, you were a little kid facing down a faery. You did nothing wrong.”
“What about you?” My voice came out husky, ragged. “I pulled you into this mess. You wouldn’t even be here if I hadn’t—”
“I’m here because I want to be,” Kenzie said in that soft, calm voice. “You said it yourself—I could’ve gone home anytime I wanted. But I stayed. And you’re not going to cut me out of your life. Not now. Because no matter what you think, no matter how much you say you want to be alone, that it’s better for everyone if you keep your distance, you can’t go through this all by yourself.” Her arms tightened around me, her voice dropping to a murmur. “I’m staying. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
I couldn’t say anything for a few seconds, because I was pretty sure if I opened my mouth I would break down. Kenzie didn’t say anything, either, and we just stood there for a little while, her arms wrapped around my waist, her slim body against mine. The fey danced and twirled their eerie patterns around us, but they were distant mirages, now. The only thing that was real was the girl behind me.
Slowly, I turned in her arms. She gazed up at me, her fingers still locked against the small of my back, holding me captive. I was suddenly positive that I didn’t want to move, that I was content to stay like this, trapped in the middle of a faery ring, until the sun rose and the Fair Folk disappeared, taking their music and glamour with them. As long as she was here.
I slipped my hand into her hair, brushing a thumb over her cheek, and she closed her eyes. My heart was pounding, and a tiny voice inside was warning me not to do it, not to get close. If I did, They would only hurt her, make her a target, use her to get to me. But I couldn’t fight this anymore, and I was tired of trying. Kenzie had been brave enough to stand with me against the fey and hadn’t left my side once. Maybe it was time to stop living in fear…and just live.
Cupping her face with my other hand, I lowered my head…
And my nerves jangled a warning, that cold chill spreading over the back of my neck and down my spine. I tried not to listen, but years of vigilant paranoia, developing an almost unnatural sixth sense that told me I was being watched, could not be ignored so easily.
Growling a curse, I raised my head and scanned the clearing, trying to see past the unearthly dancers into the shadows of the trees. From the edge of the woods, high in the branches above the swirling fey, a pair of familiar golden eyes gleamed in the darkness, watching us.
I blinked, and the eyes vanished.
I swore again, cursing the rotten timing. Kenzie opened her eyes and raised her head, turning to glance at the now empty spot.
“Did you see something?”
I sighed. “Yeah.” Reluctantly, I pulled back, determined to finish what we’d started—later. Kenzie looked disappointed but let me go. “Come on, then. Before he finds the others.” Taking her hand, I strode out of the ring, parting ranks of fey as I did. Just inside the tree line, Keirran and Annwyl waited at the edge of the shadows, their backs to us.
“Keirran!” I called, breaking into a jog, Kenzie sprinting to keep up. Keirran didn’t turn, and I tapped his shoulder as I stopped beside him. “Hey, we’ve got company—oh.”
“So nice to see you, human,” a voice purred from an overhead branch. Grimalkin sniffed, looking from me to Keirran, and smiled. “How amusing that you are both here. The queen is not at all happy with either of you.”