Leanansidhe’s Price
I felt numb. And slightly sick.
Keirran—this faery before me—was Ash and Meghan’s son. How had I not figured it out before? Everything fit together: his human blood, his Iron glamour, even the familiar expressions on his face. They were familiar because I’d seen them before. On Meghan. I could see the resemblance now; his eyes, hair and facial features—they were all my sister’s. But Ash’s shadow hovered there as well, in his jaw, his stance, the way he moved.
For a second, I hated him.
Before either of us could say anything, the exiled fey in the room gasped and snarled, surging away from Keirran as if he had a disease. Murmurs of “the Iron prince,” spread through the crowd, and the circle of fey seemed to hover between bowing down or fleeing the room. Leanansidhe gave us both an extremely exasperated glare, as if we were the cause of her headaches, and snapped her fingers at us.
“Annwyl, darling.” The Exile Queen’s tone made the fey girl cringe, and Keirran moved to stand protectively beside her. “Wait here, would you, dove? Try to keep the masses in check while I deal with this little bump. You three.” She shifted that cold gaze to us, her tone brooking no argument. “Follow me, pets. And, Keirran, keep that wretched gremlin under control this time, or I’ll be forced to do something drastic.”
Kenzie, forgotten beside us all, shot me a worried glance, and I shrugged, trying to look unconcerned. We started to follow Leanansidhe, but Annwyl and Keirran lingered for a moment. Leanansidhe rolled her eyes. “Sometime today, pets.” She sighed, as Annwyl finally turned away and Keirran looked dejected. “While I’m still in a reasonable enough mood not to turn anyone into a cello.”
Turning in a swirl of blue smoke, the Exile Queen led us out of the room, down several long, red-carpeted hallways, and into a library. Huge shelves of books lined the walls, and a lively tune swam through the air, played by a human with a violin in the far corner.
“Out, Charles,” Leanansidhe announced as she swept into the room, and the human quickly packed up his instrument and fled through another door.
The Exile Queen spun on us. “Well!” she exclaimed, gazing down at me, her hair writhing around her. “Ethan Chase. This is a surprise. The son and the brother of the Iron Queen, come to visit at the same time, what an occasion. How is your darling older sister, pet?” she asked me. “I assume you’ve been to see her recently?”
“Meghan’s fine,” I muttered, feeling self-conscious with Keirran standing there. Now that I knew we were…related…it felt weird, talking about Meghan in front of him.
Screw that. You want weird? Weird is having a nephew the same age as you. Weird is your sister having a kid, and not telling your family about him. Weird is being an uncle to a freaking half-faery! Forget weird, you are so beyond weird that it’s not funny.
Leanansidhe tsked and looked at Keirran, and a slow smile crossed her lips. “And Keirran, you devious boy,” she purred. “You didn’t tell him, did you?” She laughed then, shaking her head. “Well, this is an unexpected family drama, isn’t it? I wonder what the Iron Queen would say if she could be here now?”
“Wait a second.” Kenzie’s voice broke in, bewildered and incredulous. “Keirran is your nephew? He’s the Iron Queen’s son? But…you’re the same age!” She gestured wildly. “How in the world does that work?”
“Ah, well.” Keirran shrugged, looking embarrassed. “Remember the screwy time differences in Faery? That’s part of it. Also, the fey mature at a faster rate than mortals—comes with living in a place as dangerous as the Nevernever, I guess. We grow up quickly until we hit a certain point, then we just…stop.” He gave another sheepish grin. “Trust me, you’re not the only ones to be shocked. It was a big surprise for Mom, too.”
I glared at Keirran, forgetting Kenzie and Leanansidhe for the moment. “Why didn’t you say anything?” I demanded.
Keirran sighed. “How?” he asked, lifting his hands away from his sides, before letting them drop. “When would it have come up? Oh, by the way, I’m the prince of the Iron Realm, and your nephew. Surprise!” He shrugged again, made a hopeless gesture. “It would’ve been weird. And…awkward. And I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t have wanted anything to do with me if you knew.”
“Why didn’t Meghan say anything? That’s kind of a big thing to keep from your family.”
“I don’t know, Ethan.” Keirran shook his head. “She never talks about you, never speaks about her human life. I didn’t even know I had another family until a few years ago.” He paused, ran his fingers through his silver hair. “I was shocked when I heard that the queen had a brother living in the mortal world. But when I asked her about it, she told me that we had to live separate lives, that mingling the two families would only bring trouble to us both. I disagreed—I wanted to meet you, but she forbade me to come and see you at all.”
He sounded sincere and genuinely sorry, that he hadn’t been able to introduce himself. My anger with him dissolved a little, only to switch to another target. Meghan, I thought, furious. How could you? How could you not tell us? What was the point?
“When I heard you were at the palace,” Keirran went on, his face earnest, as if he was willing me to believe him, “I couldn’t believe it. I had to see for myself. But when Razor told me what you said—that something was killing off exiles and half-breeds—I knew I had to get to Annwyl, make sure she was safe. So I thought, two birds with one stone, why not?” He offered a shrug and a wry grin, before sobering once more. “I didn’t tell you everything, and I’m sorry for that. But I had to make certain you would follow me out of the Iron Realm.”
My head was still reeling. Meghan’s son. My nephew. I could barely wrap my mind around it. I didn’t know if I should be disgusted, horrified, ecstatic or completely weirded out. I did know that I was going to have to talk to Meghan about this, ask why she felt it was important to keep us in the dark. Screw this “living separate lives” crap. She had a kid! Half-faery or no, you did not keep that sort of thing from your family.
“Well,” Leanansidhe interjected with a wave of her cigarette flute, “much as I’m enjoying this little drama, pets, I’m afraid we cannot sit around and argue the whole day. I have larger problems to attend to. I assume you boys did not see the abominations lurking around the fairgrounds?”
“We did, actually.”
It wasn’t Keirran who answered the Exile Queen. It was Kenzie. I grimaced and turned away from the Iron prince, vowing to deal with this later, when I had time to think it through. Right now, the Dark Muse had turned her attention on the girl who, up until this point, had been standing off to the side, watching the drama play out. Truthfully, I was happy for that; it was probably best that she avoid Leanansidhe’s notice as much as she could. But, of course, Kenzie could never stay silent for long.
“We did see them,” she repeated, and the Dark Muse blinked at her in surprise. “Well, they did,” she continued, jerking her head at me and Keirran. “I couldn’t see anything. But I do know something attacked us. They’re the ones killing off your people, right?”
“And, who are you again, dove?”
“Oh, sorry,” Kenzie went on, as Leanansidhe continued to stare as if she was seeing the girl for the first time. “I’m Mackenzie, Ethan’s classmate. We sort of got pulled into the Nevernever together.”
“How…tenacious,” Leanansidhe mused after a moment. And I didn’t know if she found Kenzie amusing or offensive. I hoped it was the former. “Well, if you must know, darling, yes, something out there is making exiles disappear. As you can see from the state of my living room, the exiled fey are practically tearing down my walls trying to get in. I haven’t had this much trouble since the war with the Iron fey.” She paused and leveled a piercing glare at Razor, humming on Keirran’s shoulder. The gremlin seemed happily oblivious.
“Any idea what’s causing it?” Kenzie asked, slipping into reporter mode like she had at the tournament. If she’d had a notebook, it would have been flipped open right now, pencil scribbling furiously. Leanansidhe sighed.
“Vague ideas, darling. Rumors of horrible monsters sucking the glamour out of their victims until they are lifeless husks. I’ve never seen the horrid things, of course, but there have been several disappearances from the fairgrounds, as well as all over the world.”
“All over the world?” I broke in. “Is it really that widespread?”
Leanansidhe gave me an eerie stare. “You have no idea, darling,” she said softly. “And neither do the courts. Your sister remains happily ignorant to the threat in the mortal realm, and Summer and Winter do not even care. But…let me show you something.”
She strode to a table in the corner of the room, where a huge map of the world lay spread across the wood. Red dots marked the surface, some isolated, some clumped together. There were a fair number spread across North America, but also a bunch in England, Ireland and Great Britain. Scattered, perhaps. It wasn’t as though a whole area was covered with red. No continent was unmarked, however. North America, Europe, Africa, Australia, Asia, South America. They all had their share of red dots.
“I’ve been tracking disappearances,” Leanansidhe said into the stunned silence. “Exiles and half-breeds alike. As you can see, darlings, it’s quite widespread. And each time I send someone out to investigate, they do not return. It’s becoming—” Leanansidhe pursed her lips “—annoying.”
I gazed at the map, my fingers hovering over a spot in the United States. Two bright red dots in the state of Louisiana, near my home town.
Todd.
Keirran scanned the table, his expression grave. “And the other courts do nothing?” he murmured. “Mab and Oberon and Titania don’t know what’s going on?”
“They’ve been informed, darling,” Leanansidhe said, waving her cigarette flute in a dismissive manner. “However, the Summer and Winter courts do not think it important enough to intervene. What do they care about the lives of a few exiles and half-breeds? As long as the problem remains in the mortal realm, they are content to do nothing.”
“Why didn’t you tell Meghan?” I broke in. “She would’ve done something. She’s trying to do something now.”
Leanansidhe frowned at me. “That might be true, pet. But sadly, I have no way to get a message to the Iron Queen without my informants dropping dead from iron sickness. It is very difficult to contact the Iron Realm when no one is willing to set foot there. In fact, I was waiting for this one—” she waved her flute at Keirran “—to come sniffing around after Annwyl again, so that I could give him a message to bring back to Mag Tuiredh.”
Keirran blushed slightly but didn’t reply. Razor giggled on his shoulder.
I looked down at the map again, my thoughts whirling. So many gone. A part of me said not to care, that the fey were finally getting what they deserved after centuries of making humans disappear.
But there was more at stake now. Todd was still missing, and I’d promised to find him. Meghan would be getting involved soon. And now, there was Keirran.
I didn’t want to think about Keirran right now.
“Then,” I muttered, continuing to gaze at the map, “you’re going to need someone who can investigate these things, someone who isn’t a half-breed or an exile, who doesn’t have any glamour they can suck dry.” Someone who’s human.
“Exactly, darling.” Leanansidhe stared down with a chilling gleam in her eyes. I could feel it on the back of my neck without even seeing her. “So…are you volunteering, pet?”
I sighed.
“Yeah,” I muttered and straightened to face her. “I am. I have a friend I’ve got to find, but this has become even bigger than that. I don’t know what freaks are out there, and I don’t like it. If these glamour-sucking things are so widespread, it’s only a matter of time before all the exiles are gone, and then they might start on the Nevernever.”
Where Meghan is.
“Excellent, darling, excellent.” Leanansidhe beamed, looking pleased. “And what about you two?” she asked, gesturing to Kenzie and Keirran, on opposite ends of the table. “What will the son of the Iron Queen do, now that he’s aware of the danger? You can always go home, you know, warn the kingdom. Though I can’t imagine the Iron Queen will be pleased when she finds out what you’ve been doing.”
“I’m going with Ethan,” Keirran said softly. “I have to. Whatever these things are, I won’t stand by while they kill off any more of our kind, exiled or not.”
“Including Annwyl, is that right, pet?”
Keirran faced the Exile Queen directly, raising his chin. “Especially her.”
“I’m going, too,” Kenzie piped in, and frowned at me, as if guessing I was just about to suggest she go home. Which I was, but she didn’t need to know.
“Kenzie, this isn’t your fight anymore.” I looked at Keirran, hoping he would back me on this. He just shrugged unhelpfully. “You don’t have a stake in this,” I continued, trying to be reasonable. “You have no family or siblings or—” I looked at Keirran “—girlfriends to worry about. You didn’t even know Todd very well. We’re closer to the mortal world than we’ve ever been now, and you can go home anytime. Why are you still here?”
“Because I want to be!” she snapped, like that was the end of it. We glared at each other, and she threw up her hands. “Jeez, Ethan, we’ve been over this already. Get it through your stubborn head, okay? Do you think, with everything I’ve seen, I can just go home and forget it all? I’m not here because of family or siblings or friends—I’m here because of you! And because I want to see this! I want to know what’s out there.”
“You can’t even see them,” I argued. “These things exist in the real world, remember? You don’t have the Sight, so how are you going to help us when you won’t even know where they are?”
She pursed her lips. “I’ll…think of something.”
“I may be able to help with that, darling,” Leanansidhe broke in. We looked up, and the Exile Queen smiled at Kenzie, twiddling her cigarette holder. “You are a spunky little thing, aren’t you, pet? I rather like you. With all the riffraff from the Goblin Market hanging out in my living room, I’m certain we’ll be able to find something that will help you with your nonexistent Sight. However…” She raised one perfectly manicured nail. “A warning, my dove. This is not a simple request, nor does it come cheap. To grant a human the Sight is not something I take lightly. I will have something from you in return, if you agree.”
“No!” My outburst made Kenzie start, though Leanansidhe blinked calmly, looking irritated and amused at the same time. “Kenzie, no,” I said, taking a step toward her. “Never make a deal with the fey. The price is always too high.”
Kenzie regarded me briefly, then turned back to the Exile Queen, her expression thoughtful. “What kind of price are we talking about?” she asked softly.
“Kenzie!”
“Ethan.” Her voice was quiet but firm as she looked over her shoulder. “It’s my decision.”
“The hell it is! I’m not going to let you do this—”
“Ethan, darling,” Leanansidhe ordered, and brought her finger and thumb together. “Shush.”
And suddenly, I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t make a sound. My mouth opened, vocal chords straining to say something, but I had gone as mute as the paint on the wall. “This is my home,” the Dark Muse continued, and the lights flickered on and off as she stared at me. “And here you will obey my rules. If you don’t like it, pet, you’re welcome to leave. But the girl and I have business to conduct now, so sit down and be a good boy, won’t you? Don’t make me turn you into a very whiny guitar.”
I clenched my fists, wanting to hit something, wanting to grab Kenzie and get us both out of there. But even if I left, Leanansidhe wouldn’t let Kenzie go, not without completing the bargain. Attacking someone as powerful as the Exile Queen was a very stupid idea, even for me. I wanted to protect Kenzie, but I couldn’t do that if Leanansidhe turned me into a guitar. So I could only stand there, clenching and unclenching my fists, as Kenzie prepared to deal with the Exile Queen. Keirran watched me, his gaze apologetic, and I resisted the urge to hit him, too.
“Ethan.” Kenzie looked back at me, horror crossing her face as she realized what had happened, then whirled on Leanansidhe. “Whatever you just did to him,” she demanded, bristling, “stop it right now.”
“Oh, pish, darling. He’s just a little tongue-tied at the moment. Nothing he won’t recover from. Eventually.” The Exile Queen gave me a dismissive wave. “Now, my dove. I believe we have some business to conclude. You want to be able to see the Hidden World, and I want something from you, as well. The question is, what are you willing to pay?”
Kenzie stared at me a moment longer, then slowly turned back to the Dark Muse. “I take it we’re not talking about money.”
Leanansidhe laughed. “Oh, no, my pet. Nothing so crude as that.” She strolled forward until Kenzie was just a foot away, gazing up at the Exile Queen looming over her. “You have something else that I’m interested in.”
I started forward, but Keirran grabbed my arm.
“Ethan, don’t,” he whispered as I glared at him, wondering if I shouldn’t lock his elbow out and force him to his knees. “She’ll do something nasty if you try to interfere. I’ve seen it. Even if it’s not on you, she could take it out on others. I can’t let you hurt yourself…or Annwyl.”
“I can feel the creative energy in you, pet,” the Exile Queen mused, lightly stroking Kenzie’s long black hair, and Keirran had to tighten his grip on my arm. “You are an artist, aren’t you, darling? A smith of words, one might say.”
“I’m a journalist,” Kenzie replied cautiously.
“Exactly so, darling,” said Leanansidhe, moving a few steps back. “You create music with words and sentences, not notes. Well, here is my bargain, my pet—I will offer you a little of my…shall we say ‘divine inspiration,’ for a very special piece I’m willing to commission.”
“And…what do you want me to write about?”
“I want you to publish something about me, darling,” Leanansidhe said, as if that were obvious. “That’s not such a horrible price, is it, pet? Oh, but here is the real kicker—every word you put down on paper will practically sing from the page. It will touch everyone who reads it, in one form or another. The words will be yours, the thoughts will be yours. I will just add a little inspiration to make the work truly magnificent. Let me do this, and I will give you the ability to see the fey.”
Kenzie, no! I wanted to shout. If you let her do this, you’ll be giving a piece of yourself to Leanansidhe. She’ll take a bit of your life in exchange for the inspiration, that’s how the Dark Muse works!
Kenzie hesitated, considering. “One piece?” she said at last, as I turned desperately to Keirran, grabbing his collar. “That’s all?”
Say something, I thought, beseeching the faery with my gaze. Dammit, Keirran, you know what’s going on. You can’t let her agree without the full knowledge of what she’s getting into. Say something!
“Of course, darling,” Leanansidhe said. “Just one tiny piece, written by you. With my help, of course.
“Please,” I mouthed, and Keirran sighed.
“That’s not all, Leanansidhe,” he said, releasing my arm and stepping forward. “You’re not telling her everything. She deserves to know the real price of your inspiration.”
“Keirran, darling,” Leanansidhe said, a definite note of irritation beneath the cheerful facade, “if I lose this deal because of you, I’m going to be very unhappy. And when I am unhappy, pet, everyone in my home is unhappy.” She glowered at Keirran, and the lights on the walls flickered. “I did you a favor by taking the Summer girl in, darling. Remember that.”
Keirran backed off, giving me a dark look, but it was enough. “What does he mean?” Kenzie asked as the Exile Queen huffed in frustration. “What’s the ‘real price’?”
“Nothing much, darling,” Leanansidhe soothed, switching tones as she turned back to the girl. “Just…in the terms of the contract, you will agree to forfeit a tiny bit of your life to me, in exchange for the inspiration. Not much, mind you,” she added, as Kenzie’s mouth dropped open. “A month or two, give or take. Of course, this is your natural lifespan only—it does not count for fatal accidents, sickness, disease or other untimely demises. But that is my offer for the Sight, my pet. It really is one of my more generous offers. What say you?”
No, I thought at Kenzie. Say no. That’s the only thing you can say to an offer like that.
“Sure,” Kenzie said immediately, and I gaped at her. “Why not? A month of my life, in exchange for a lifetime of seeing the fey?” She shrugged. “That’s not too bad, in the long run.”
What? Stunned, I could only stare at the girl in horror. Do you know what you just did? You gave away a month of your existence to a faery queen! You let her shorten your life for nothing.
Leanansidhe blinked. “Well,” she mused after a moment. “That was easy. How fortunate for me. Humans are usually extraordinarily attached to their lives, I’ve found. But, if that is your decision, then we have a deal, my pet. And I will get you the things you need to acquire the Sight.” She smiled, terribly pleased with herself, and looked at me and Keirran. If she saw how I was staring at Kenzie, dumbstruck, she didn’t comment. “I will fetch Annwyl to show you your rooms. Meet me here tomorrow, darlings, and we will discuss where you will go next. Until then, the mansion is yours.”
* * *
My voice finally returned a few hours later.
I hadn’t seen Annwyl or Keirran for a while, not since the Summer girl had brought us to Leanansidhe’s guest rooms and quickly vanished, saying she had work to do. Keirran didn’t wait very long before following her down the hall. Kenzie, I think, was avoiding me, for she disappeared into her room and didn’t answer the door when I knocked a few minutes later.
So I prowled the mansion, which was huge, wandering its endless corridors, hoping some exiled fey would try to pick a fight with me. Nobody did, leaving me to brood without any distractions.
Keirran. Meghan’s son…and my nephew, disturbing as that was. The whole situation was completely screwed up. I knew time flowed differently in Faery, but still. Keirran was my age, as were Meghan and Ash…
I shook my head, veering away from that train of thought. My family had just gotten a whole lot weirder. I wondered what Mom would say, if she knew about Keirran. She’d probably freak out.
Maybe that’s why Meghan didn’t tell us, I thought, glaring at a bogey crouched under a low shelf like a huge spider, daring it to do something. It took one look at me and vanished into the shadows. Maybe she knew Mom wouldn’t be able to handle it. Maybe she was scared of what I would think…but, no, that’s not an excuse! She still should’ve told us. That’s not something you can just hide away and hope no one finds out.
Meghan had a reason for not telling us about Keirran, and for trying to keep him away from us, as well. What was it? As far as I could tell, Keirran had no prejudice against humans; he was polite, soft-spoken, respectful. The complete opposite of me, I thought, rolling my eyes. Mom would absolutely love him. But Meghan never wanted us to meet, which seemed really odd for her, as well. What could possibly be so horrible that you would have a child and keep it a secret from the rest of your family?
What wasn’t she telling us about Keirran?
Voices drifted down the corridor from somewhere up ahead, the soft, garbled buzz of a conversation. I heard Annwyl’s lyrical tone through an archway at the end of the hall, and Keirran’s quiet voice echo it. Not wanting to disturb…whatever they were doing, I turned to leave, when Kenzie’s name filtered through the conversation and caught my attention.
Wary now, I crept down the corridor until it ended at a large, circular room filled with vegetation. An enormous tree loomed up from the center, extending gnarled branches skyward, which was easy because the room had no ceiling. Bright sunlight slanted through the leaves, spotting the carpet of grass and wildflowers surrounding the trunk. Birds twittered overhead and butterflies danced through the flowers, adding to the dazzling array of color and light.
It wasn’t real, of course. Leanansidhe’s mansion, according to rumors, existed in a place called the Between, the veil that separated Faery from the mortal world. Supposedly, when using a trod, you passed very briefly through the Between, then into the other realm. How Leanansidhe managed to set up an entire mansion in the space between worlds was baffling, something you just shouldn’t wonder about. No one knew what the outside of the mansion looked like, but I was pretty sure it didn’t have sunlight and birdsong. This room was all faery glamour. A really good illusion—I could smell the wildflowers, hear the bees buzzing past my ear and feel the warmth of the sun—but an illusion nonetheless. I hadn’t come here to smell the flowers, I was here to discover why two faeries were talking about Kenzie.
Keirran sat beneath the trunk, one knee drawn up to his chest, watching Annwyl as she moved gracefully through the flowers. Every so often, the Summer faery would pause, brushing her fingers over a petal or fern, and the plant would immediately straighten, unfurling new and brighter leaves. Butterflies danced around her, perching on her hair and clothes, as if she was an enormous blossom drifting through the field.
I eased closer, skirting the edges of the room, keeping a row of giant ferns between myself and the two fey. Peering through the fronds, feeling slightly ridiculous that I would stoop this low, I strained my ears in the direction of the tree.
“Leanansidhe wants the ceremony done tonight,” Annwyl was saying, raising an arm to touch a low-hanging branch. It stirred, and several withered leaves grew full and green again. “I think it would be better if you performed the ritual, Keirran. She knows you, and the boy might object if I go anywhere near her.”
“I know.” Keirran exhaled, resting his chin on his knee. “I just hope Ethan doesn’t hate me for my part in giving Kenzie the Sight. He’s probably still reeling from that last load of bricks I dropped on his head.”
“You mean that you’re his nephew?” Annwyl asked mildly, and my gut twisted. I still wasn’t used to the idea. “But, surely he understands how time works in both worlds. He had to realize that his sister would start her own family, even if she wasn’t in the mortal realm, right?”
“How could he?” Keirran muttered. “She never told him. She never told me.” He sighed again, and though I couldn’t see his face very well, his tone was morose, almost angry. “She’s hiding something, Annwyl. I think they all are. Oberon, Titania, Mab—they all know something. And no one will tell me what it is.” His voice lowered, frustrated and confused. “Why don’t they trust me?”
Annwyl turned, giving him a strange look. Snapping a twig from the nearest branch, she knelt in front of Keirran and held up the stick. “Here. Take this for a moment.”
Looking bewildered, Keirran did.
“Do what I was doing just now,” she ordered. “Make it grow.”
His brow furrowed, but he shrugged and glanced down at the bare stick. It shivered, and tiny buds appeared along the length of the wood, before unfurling into leaves. A butterfly floated down from Annwyl’s hair to perch on the end.
“Now, kill it,” Annwyl said.
She received another puzzled look, but a second later frost crept over the leaves, turning them black, before the entire twig was coated in ice. The butterfly dropped away and spiraled toward the ground, lifeless in an instant. Annwyl flicked the branch with her fingers, and it snapped, one half of the stick spinning away into the flowers.
“Do you see what I’m getting at, Prince Keirran?”
He hung his head. “Yes.”
“You’re the Iron prince,” Annwyl went on in a gentle voice. “But you’re not simply an Iron faery. You have the glamour of all three courts and can use them seamlessly, without fail. No one else in Faery has that ability, not even the Iron Queen.” She put a hand on his knee, and he looked down at it. “They fear you, Keirran. They’re afraid of what you can become, what your existence might mean for them. It’s the nature of the courts, sadly. They don’t react well to change.”
“Are you afraid of me?” Keirran asked, his voice nearly lost in the sighing leaves.
“No.” Annwyl pulled her hand away and rose, gazing down at him. “Not when you were kind to me, and risked so much to bring me here. But I know the courts far better than you do, Keirran. I was just a humble servant to Titania, but you are the Iron prince.” She took a step back, her voice mournful but resolved. “I know my place. I will not drag you into exile with me.”
As Annwyl turned away, Keirran rose swiftly, not touching her but very close. “I’m not afraid of exile,” he said quietly, and the Summer girl closed her eyes. “And I don’t care what the courts say. My own parents defied those laws, and look where they are now.” His hand rose, gently brushing her braid, causing several butterflies to flit skyward. “I would do the same for you, if you just gave me the chance—”
“No, Prince Keirran.” Annwyl spun, her eyes glassy. “I won’t do that, not to you. I wish things were different, but we can’t… The courts would… I’m sorry.”
She whirled and fled the room, leaving Keirran standing alone under the great tree. He scrubbed a hand over his eyes, then wandered back to lean against the trunk, staring out at nothing.
Feeling like an intruder who had just witnessed something he shouldn’t have, I eased back into the corridor. My suspicions had been confirmed; Meghan was hiding something from us. I was definitely going to have to talk to her about that, demand why she thought it was so important to keep her family in the dark.
First, however, I had to find Kenzie, before this ritual was supposed to begin. She needed to know what having the Sight really meant, what the fey did to those who could See them. If she’d really understood the consequences, she never would have made that bargain.
Although, deep down, I knew that was a lie. Kenzie had known exactly what she was getting into and chose to do it anyway.
* * *
I finally found her in the library, hidden between towering shelves of books, leaning against the wall. She glanced up as I came into the aisle, the massive tome in her hands making her look even smaller. That strange, unfamiliar sensation twisted my stomach again, but I ignored it.
“Hey.” She gave me a hesitant smile, as if she wasn’t sure if I was mad at her or not. “Has your voice come back yet?”
“Yeah.” It came out harsher than I’d wanted, but I plunged on. “I need to talk to you.”
“I suppose you do.” She sighed, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. For a moment, she stared at the pages in front of her. “I guess…you want to know why I agreed to that bargain.”
“Why?” I took a step forward, into the narrow space. “Why would you think your life was an acceptable trade for something that you have no business seeing in the first place?” Anger flickered again, but I couldn’t tell if it was directed at Kenzie, Leanansidhe, Keirran or something else. “This isn’t a game, Kenzie. You just shortened your life by trading it away to a faery. Don’t think she won’t collect. They always do.”
“It’s a month, Ethan. Two at the most. It won’t matter in the long run.”
“It’s your life!” I stabbed my fingers through my hair, frustrated that she refused to see. “What would’ve been ‘too much,’ Kenzie? A year? Two? Would you have become her ‘apprentice’? Giving away bits of your life for the inspiration she offers? That’s what she does, you know. And every single person she helps dies an early death. Or becomes trapped in this crazy between-worlds house, entertaining her for eternity.” I paused, fisting my hand against the shelf. “I can’t watch that happen to you.”
We both fell silent. Kenzie hesitated, picking at the pages of the book. “Look,” she began, “I realize you know almost everything about the fey, but there are things you don’t know about me. I don’t like talking about it, because I don’t want to be a burden on anyone, but…” She chewed her lip, her face tightening. “Let’s just say I view things a little differently than most people. I want to learn everything I can, I want to see everything I can. That’s why I want to become a reporter—to travel the world, to discover what’s out there.” Her voice wavered, and her eyes went distant. “I just don’t want to miss anything.”
I sighed. “Promise me you won’t make any more deals,” I said, taking another step toward her. “No matter what you see, no matter what they offer you, promise that you won’t agree to it.”
She watched me over the edge of the book, brown eyes solemn. “I can’t make that promise,” she said quietly.
“Why?”
“Why do you care?” she shot back, defiant. “You told me to leave you alone, to forget about you when we went back, because you’re going to do the same. Those were your words, Ethan. You don’t want me around and you don’t care.”
I huffed and closed the last few steps. Taking the book from her hands, I snapped it shut, replaced it on the shelf, and grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to look at me. She stiffened, raising her chin, glaring at me with wounded eyes.
“I care, all right?” I said in a low voice. “I know I come off as a bastard sometimes, and I’m sorry for that. But I do care about…what happens to you here. I don’t want to see you get hurt because of Them. Because of me.”
Kenzie met my gaze and stepped forward, so close that I could see my reflection in her dark eyes. “I want to see Them, Ethan,” she said, firm and unshakable. “I’m not afraid.”
“I know, that’s what scares me.” I released her, kicking myself for acting so roughly, yet reluctant to let her go. “You’re going to have the Sight now,” I said, feeling raw apprehension spread through my insides. “That means the fey will hound you relentlessly, wanting to bargain, or make a deal, or just make your life hell. You’ve seen it. You know what they’re capable of.”
“Yes,” Kenzie agreed, and suddenly took my hand, sending a shiver up my arm. “But I’ve also spoken with a talking cat, fought a dragon, and watched the Iron Realm light up at night. I’ve seen a faery queen, climbed the towers of a huge castle, flown on a giant metal insect, and made a deal with a legend. How many people can say that? Can you blame me for not wanting to let it go?”
“And if it gets you killed?”
She shrugged and looked away. “No one lives forever.”
I had no answer for that. There was no answer for that.
“Hey.” Keirran appeared at the end of the aisle, and we jumped apart. His gremlin grinned manically from his shoulder, lighting the shelves with a blue-white glow. “What are you two doing?”
He gave me a half wary, half hopeful look, unsure of where we stood, if we were cool. I shrugged, not smiling, but not glaring at him, either. It was the best I could offer for now.
“Nothing,” I said, and nodded to Kenzie. “Futilely trying to convince stubborn reporters not to go through with this.”
She snorted. “Hi, Mr. Pot. Meet Mr. Kettle.”
“Kenzie.” Annwyl stepped forward. Her hair was loose, falling down her back in golden-brown waves, petals and leaves scattered throughout. Keirran watched her, his face blank, but he didn’t say anything. A tiny glass vial gleamed from her fingertips as she held it up. “Leanansidhe told me to give this to you.”
I clenched my fists to keep from dashing the vial to the floor. Kenzie reached out and plucked it from her hand, holding it up to the light. It sparkled dully, half-full with amber liquid, throwing tiny slivers of gold over the carpet.
“So,” she mused after a moment, “is it ‘down the hatch’ right now and, poof, I’ll be able to see the fey? Is that how this works?”
“Not yet,” Annwyl said solemnly. “There is a ritual involved. To gain the Sight, you must stand in the middle of a faery ring at midnight, spill a few drops of your blood onto the ground, and then drink that. The Veil will lift, and you’ll be able to see the Hidden World for the rest of your life.”
“Doesn’t sound too hard.” Kenzie gave the vial a small shake, dislodging a few black specks that swirled around the glass. “What’s in here, anyway?”
Keirran smiled. “Probably best you don’t know,” he warned. “In any case, Leanansidhe has a trod that will take us to a faery ring. There’s a catch, though. When the full moon shines down on a faery ring, the local fey can’t resist. We’ll probably run into a few of them, dancing under the moonlight. You know, like they do.”
“Well, then it’s a good thing I’ll have you two around to protect me.” She glanced my way, a shadow of uncertainty crossing her face. “You’ll be there, right?”
“Yeah.” I gave her a resigned look. I’d say what a stupid idea this is, but you won’t listen to me. I only hope the cost will be worth it.
“So,” I muttered, looking at Keirran, “where is this faery ring?”
He grinned, reminding me suddenly of Meghan, and my stomach clenched. “Not far by trod, but probably farther than you’ve ever been,” he said mysteriously. “This particular ring is several thousand years old, which is vital to the ritual tonight—the older the ring, the more power it holds. It’s somewhere deep in the moors of Ireland.”
Kenzie’s head jerked up, her eyes brightening. “Ireland?”
“Yay!” Razor crowed, bouncing up and down on his shoulder. “Sheep!”