The Border
“The Iron Realm is not far, now.”
I glanced up from where I sat on a fallen log, hot, sweaty and still sore from the recent battle. Kenzie slumped beside me, leaning against my shoulder, making it hard to concentrate on what the cat was saying. I didn’t mind the contact—she was exhausted and probably just as sore—but I wasn’t used to having anyone this close, touching me, and it was…distracting. I don’t know how long we’d been walking, but it felt like the hours were stretching out just for spite. The wyldwood never changed; it was still as dark, murky and endless as it had been when we started. I didn’t even know if we were walking in circles. Since fighting the lindwurm thing, I’d seen a wood sprite, several more piskies and a single goblin who might’ve given us trouble if he’d been with his pack. The short, warty fey had grinned evilly as it tried to block our path, but I’d drawn my weapons and Kenzie had stepped up beside me, glaring, and the goblin had suddenly decided it had other places to be. A will-o’-the-wisp had trailed us for several miles, trying to capture our attention so it could get us lost, but I’d told Kenzie to ignore the floating ball of light, and it eventually had given up.
I broke the last energy bar in half and handed the bigger part to Kenzie, who sat up and took it with a murmur of thanks. “How far?” I asked Grimalkin, biting into my half. The cat began grooming his tail, ignoring me. I resisted the urge to throw a rock at him.
I glanced at Kenzie. She sat hunched forward, her forearms resting on her knees, chewing methodically. There were circles under her eyes and a streak of mud across her cheek, but she hadn’t complained once through the entire march. In fact, she had been very quiet ever since the fight with the lindwurm.
She saw me looking and managed a tired smile, bumping her shoulder against mine. “So, we’re almost there, huh?” she said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I hope it’s less…woodsy than this place. Do you know much about it?”
“Unfortunately,” I muttered. Machina’s tower, the gremlins, the iron knights, the stark, blasted wasteland. I remembered it all as if it was yesterday. “It’s not as woodsy, but the Iron Realm isn’t pleasant, either. It’s where the Iron fey live.”
“See, that’s where I’m confused,” Kenzie said, shifting to face me. “Everything I researched said faeries are allergic to iron.” She held up the iron key. “That’s why this thing worked so well, right?”
“Yes,” I said. “And they are. At least, the normal faeries are. But the Iron fey are different. The fey—the entire Nevernever, actually—comes from us, from our dreams and imagination, as cheesy as that sounds. The traditional faeries are the ones you read about in the old myths—Shakespeare and the Grimm Brothers, for example. But, during the past hundred years or so, we’ve been…er…dreaming of other things. So, the Iron fey are a little more modern.”
“Modern?”
“You’ll see when we get there.”
“Huh,” Kenzie said, considering. “And you said the place is ruled by a queen?”
“Yeah,” I said, quickly standing up. “The Iron Queen.”
“Any idea what she’s like?” Kenzie stood, too, unaware of my burning face. “I’ve read about Queen Mab and Titania, of course, but I’ve never heard of the Iron Queen.”
“I dunno,” I lied and walked over to Grimalkin, who was watching with amused golden eyes, the hint of a smile on his whiskered face. I shot a warning glare at the feline, hoping he would remain silent. “Come on, cat. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can leave.”
We started off again, pushing through the trees, following the seemingly tireless cait sith as he glided through the undergrowth. Kenzie walked next to me, her eyes weary and dull, barely looking up from the ground. A tiny faery with a mushroom cap peeked at us from a nearby branch, but she didn’t even glance at it a second time. Either the overwhelming weirdness of the Nevernever had driven her to a kind of numb acceptance or she was too tired to give a crap.
The tangled woods started to thin as the gray twilight was finally fading, giving way to night. Fireflies or faery lights began appearing through the trees, blinking yellow, blue and green.
Grimalkin stopped at the base of a tall black tree and turned to face us. I frowned as he swatted at a blue light, which zipped off into the woods with a buzz.
“Why are we stopping? Shouldn’t we get out of the wyldwood before night falls and the really nasty things start coming out?”
“You do not know where you are, do you?” Grimalkin purred. I gave him an irritated look, and he yawned. “Of course not. This,” he stated, waving his tail languidly, “is the border of the Iron Realm. You are at the very edge of the Iron Queen’s territory.”
“What, right here?” I looked around but couldn’t see anything unusual. Just black woods and a few blinking lights. “How can you tell? There’s nothing here.”
“One moment,” the cat mused, a smug grin in his voice. “It should not be long.”
I sighed. “We don’t really have time for…”
I trailed off, as the tree behind Grimalkin flickered, then blazed with light. Kenzie gasped as neon lights erupted along the branches, like Christmas bulbs or those fiberglass trees in department stores. There were no wires or extension cords; the bulbs were growing right out of the branches. As the tree lit up, a swarm of multicolored fireflies spiraled up from the leaves and scattered to all parts of the forest, drifting around us like stray fireworks.
I blinked, dazzled by the display. Around us, the trees glimmered silver; trunks, leaves, branches and twigs shining as if they were made of polished metal. They reflected the drifting lights and turned the woods into a swirling galaxy of stars.
“Ethan,” Kenzie breathed, staring transfixed at her arm. A tiny green bug perched on her wrist, blinking erratically. Its fragile body glittered in its own light, metallic and shiny, before it buzzed delicate transparent wings and zipped away into the woods. Kenzie held up her hand, and several more tiny lights hovered around her, landing on her fingers and making them glow.
For a second, I couldn’t look away. My heartbeat picked up, and my mouth was suddenly dry, watching the girl in the center of the winking cloud, smiling as the tiny lights landed in her hair or perched on her arm.
She was beautiful.
“Okay,” I muttered, tearing my gaze away before she noticed I was staring, “I can admit it—that’s pretty cool.”
Grimalkin sniffed. “So pleased you approve,” he said. I frowned at him through the swirling lights, waving away several bugs drifting around my face. It occurred to me that we were on our own, now. Like the rest of the normal fey, Grimalkin couldn’t set foot in the Iron Realm. Meghan’s kingdom was still deadly to the rest of the Nevernever—only the Iron fey could live there without poisoning themselves. Grimalkin was showing us the border because he planned to leave us here.
“How far to the Iron Queen from here?” I asked.
The cat flicked a bug off his tail. “Still a few days by foot. Do not worry, though. Beyond this rise is a place that will take you to Mag Tuiredh, the site of the Iron Court, much faster than humans can walk.”
“I suppose this is where you leave,” I said.
“Do not be ridiculous, human.” The cat yawned and stood up. “Of course I am coming with you. Besides your being highly amusing, the favor dictates that I see you all the way to Mag Tuiredh and dump you at the Iron Queen’s feet. After that, you become her problem, but I will see you there, first.”
“You can’t go into the Iron Realm. It’ll kill you.”
Grimalkin gave me a bored look, turned and stalked off. Past the border and into the Iron Realm.
I hurried after him, Kenzie on my heels. “Wait,” I said, catching up to him, frowning. “I know the Iron Realm is deadly to normal fey. How are you doing this?”
Grimalkin paused, looking over his shoulder with glowing, half-lidded eyes. His tail waved lazily. “There are things about this world that you do not realize, human,” he purred. “Events that took place years ago, when the Iron Queen rose to power, still shape this world today. You do not know as much as you think you do. Besides…” He blinked, raising his head imperiously. “I am a cat.”
And that was the end of it.
The fireflies continued to light up the forest as we walked on, blinking through leaves and branches, glinting off the trunks. Trees with flickering light bulbs illuminated the path to wherever Grimalkin was taking us. Kenzie kept staring at them, the amazement and disbelief back on her face.
“This…is impossible,” she murmured once, brushing her fingers over a glittering trunk. Small glowing bulbs sprouted overhead like clusters of Christmas lights. Streetlamps grew right out of the dirt, lighting the path. “How…how can this be real?”
“This is the Iron Realm,” I told her. “It’s still Faery, just a different flavor of crazy.”
Before she could answer, the trees fell away, and we found ourselves at the top of a rise, staring down at the lights of a small village on the edge of a massive lake. It looked sort of like a gypsy town or a carnival, all lit up with torches and strings of colored lights. Thatched huts stood on posts rising out of the water, and wooden bridges crisscrossed the spaces between. Creatures of all shapes and sizes roamed the walkways above the water.
At the edge of the town, a railroad arched away over the lake, vanishing to a point somewhere on the horizon.
“What is this place?” I muttered, as Kenzie pressed close to my back, peering over my shoulder. Grimalkin sat down and curled his tail over his feet.
“This is a border town, one of many along the edge of the Iron Realm. I forget its exact name, if it even has one. Many Iron fey gather here, for one reason.” He raised a hind leg and scratched an ear. “Do you see the railroad, human?”
“What about it?”
“That will take you straight to Mag Tuiredh, the site of the Iron Court and the seat of the Iron Queen’s power. It costs nothing to board, and anyone may use it. The railroad was one of the first improvements the queen made when she took the throne. She wished for everyone to have a safe way to travel to Mag Tuiredh from anywhere in the Iron Realm.”
“We’re going down there?” Kenzie asked, her eyes big as she stared at the creatures roaming about the bridges. Grimalkin sniffed.
“Do you see another way to get to the railroad, human?”
“But…what about the faeries?”
“I doubt they will bother you,” the cat replied, unconcerned. “They see many travelers through this part of town. Do not speak to anyone, get on the train, and you will be fine.” He raised a hind leg to scratch his ear. “That is where I will meet you, when you finally decide to show up.”
“You’re not coming?”
Grimalkin curled his whiskers in distaste. “Outside of Mag Tuiredh, I try to avoid contact with the denizens of the Iron Realm,” he said in a lofty voice. “It circumvents tiresome, unnecessary questions. Besides, I cannot hold your hands the entire way to the Iron Queen.” He sniffed and stood up, waving his tail. “The train will arrive soon. Do try not to miss it, humans.”
Without another word, he disappeared.
Kenzie sighed, muttering something about impossible felines. And I realized, suddenly, that she looked very pale and tired in the moonlight. There were shadows under her eyes, and her cheeks looked hollow, wasted. Her normal boundless energy seemed to have deserted her as she rubbed her arm and gazed down the slope, shivering in the cold breeze.
“So,” she said, turning to me. Even her smile looked weary as she stood at the edge of the rise, the wind ruffling her hair. “Head into the creepy faery town, talk to the creepy faery conductor and board the creepy faery train, because a talking cat told us to.”
“Are you all right?” I asked. “You don’t look so good.”
“Just tired. Come on, let’s go already.” She backed up a step, avoiding my eyes, but as she turned, I saw something in the moonlight that made my stomach clench.
“Kenzie, wait!” Striding forward, I caught her arm as gently as I could. She tried squirming from my grip, but I pulled back her sleeve to reveal a massive purple stripe, stretching from her shoulder almost to her elbow. A dark, sullen blotch marring her otherwise flawless skin.
I sucked in a horrified breath. “When did you get this?” I demanded, angry that she hadn’t told me, and that I hadn’t noticed it until now. “What happened?”
“It’s fine, Ethan.” She yanked her arm back and tugged her sleeve down. “It’s nothing. I got it when we were fighting the lindwurm thing.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because it’s not a big deal!” Kenzie shrugged. “Ethan, trust me, I’m all right. I bruise easily, that’s all.” But she didn’t look at me when she said it. “I get them all the time, now can we please go? Like Grim said, we don’t want to miss the train.”
“Kenzie…” But she was already gone, dropping down the rise without looking back, striding merrily toward the lights and the railroad and the town of Iron fey. I blew out a frustrated breath and hurried to catch up.
After picking our way down the slope, we entered the town. Kenzie gazed around in wonder, her weariness forgotten, while I gripped my rattan and tensed every time something came near.
Iron fey surrounded us, weird, crazy and nightmarish. Creatures made entirely of twisted wire. A well-dressed figure in a top hat, holding the leash of a ticking clockwork hound. An old woman with the body of a giant spider scuttled past, her metallic, needlelike legs clicking over the wood. Kenzie let out a squeak and squeezed my hand, nearly crushing my fingers, until the spider-thing had disappeared.
We were getting stared at. Despite what Grimalkin said, the Iron fey were taking notice of us, and why not? It wasn’t every day two humans strolled through their town, looking decidedly mortal and un-fey. Strangely enough, no one tried to stop us as we maneuvered the swaying bridges and walkways, passing shacks and odd-looking stores, feeling glowing fey eyes on my back.
Until we reached a large, circular deck where several walkways converged. I could see the railroad at the edge of town, stretching out over the lake. But as we headed toward it, a hunched figure dressed in rags suddenly reached out and grabbed Kenzie’s wrist as she passed, making her yelp.
I spun, whipping my rattan down, striking the arm that held her, and the faery let go with a raspy cry. Shaking its fingers, it crept forward again, and I shoved Kenzie behind me, meeting the faery with my sticks raised.
“Humans,” it hissed, and several rusty screws dropped out of its rags as it circled. “Humans have something for me, yes? A pocket watch? A lovely phone?” It raised its head, revealing a face put together with bits and pieces of machinery. One eye was a glowing bulb, the other the head of a copper screw. A mouth made of wires smiled at us as the thing eased forward. “Stay,” it urged, as Kenzie recoiled in shock. “Stay and share.”
“Back off,” I warned, but a crowd was forming now, fey that had simply been watching before easing forward. They surrounded us on the platform, not lunging or attacking, but preventing us from going any farther. I kept an eye on both them and the machine-scrap faery; if they wanted a fight, I’d be happy to oblige.
“Stay,” urged the faery in rags, still circling us, smiling. “Stay and talk. We help each other, yes?”
A piercing whistle rent the air, drawing the attention of several fey. Moments later, an enormous train appeared over the lake, trailing billowing clouds of smoke as it chugged closer. Bulky and massive, leaking smoke and steam everywhere, it pulled into the station with a roar and a screech of rusty gears before shuddering to a halt.
Several faeries began making their way toward the huge, smoking engine, as a copper-skinned faery in a conductor’s uniform stepped out front, waving them forward. The crowd thinned a bit, but not enough.
“Dammit, I don’t want to have to fight our way out,” I growled, keeping an eye on the fey surrounding us. “But we need to get to that train now.” The faery in rags eased closer, as if he feared we would turn and run. “This one isn’t going to let us go,” I said, feeling my muscles tense, and gripped my weapons. “Kenzie, stay back. This could get ugly.”
“Wait.” Kenzie grabbed my sleeve, a second before I would’ve lunged forward and cracked the fey in the skull. Pulling me to the side, she stepped forward and stripped off her camera. “Here,” she told the ragged fey, holding it out. “You want a trade, right? Is this good enough?”
The Iron faery blinked, then reached out and snatched the camera, wire lips stretched into a grin. “Ooooh,” it cooed, clutching it to its chest. “Pretty. So generous, little human.” It shook the camera experimentally and frowned. “Broken?”
“Um…yeah,” Kenzie admitted, and I tensed, ready to step in with force if the thing took offense. “Sorry.”
The faery grinned again. “Good trade!” it rasped, tucking the camera into its robes. “Good trade. We approve. Luck on your travels, little humans.”
With a hissing cackle, it hobbled down a walkway and vanished into the town.
The crowd began to disperse, and I slowly relaxed. Kenzie pushed her hair back with a shaking hand and sighed in relief. “Well, there go the pictures for this week’s sports article,” she said wryly. “But, if you think about it, that camera has more than paid for itself today. I’m just sad no one will get to see your mad kali skills.”
I lowered my sticks. That was twice now that Kenzie’s quick thinking had gotten us out of trouble. Another few seconds, and I would’ve been in a fight. With a faery. In the middle of a faery town.
Not one of my smarter moments.
“How did you know what it wanted?” I asked as we headed toward the station again. Kenzie gave me an exasperated look.
“Really, Ethan, you’re supposed to know this stuff. Faeries like gifts, all the Google articles say so. And since we don’t have any jars of honey or small children, I figured the camera was the best bet.” She chuckled and rolled her eyes at me. “This doesn’t have to be a fight all the way to the Iron Queen, tough guy. Next time, let’s try talking to the faeries before the sticks come out.”
I would’ve said something, except…I was kind of speechless.
* * *
We boarded the train without trouble, receiving only a brief glare from the conductor, and made our way to a deserted car near the back. Hard wooden pews sat under the windows, but there were a few private boxes as well, and after a few minutes of searching, we managed to find an empty one. Sliding in behind Kenzie, I quickly shut the doors, locked them and lowered the blind over the window.
Kenzie sank down on one of the benches, leaning against the glass. I followed her gaze, seeing the glittering metal of the tracks stretch out over the dark waters until they were lost from view.
“How long do you think it’ll be before we’re there?” Kenzie asked, still gazing out the window. “What is this place called again?”
“Mag Tuiredh,” I replied, sitting beside her. “And I don’t know. Hopefully not long.”
“Hopefully,” Kenzie agreed, and murmured in a softer voice, “I wonder what my dad is doing right now?”
With a huff, the train began to move, chugging noisily at first, then smoothing out as it picked up speed. The lights of the village fell away until nothing could be seen outside the window but the flat, silvery expanse of the lake and the stars glittering overhead.
“I hope Grimalkin made it on,” Kenzie said, her voice slurred and exhausted. She shifted against the window, crossing her arms. “You think he’s here like he said he would be?”
“Who knows?” I watched her try to get comfortable for a few seconds, then scooted over, closing the distance between us. “Here,” I offered, pulling her back against my shoulder. With everything she’d done for us, the least I could do was let her sleep. She leaned into me with a grateful sigh, soft strands of hair brushing my arm.
“I wouldn’t worry about the cat,” I went on, shifting to give her a more comfortable position. “If he made it, he made it. If not, there’s nothing we can do about it.”
She didn’t say anything for a while, closing her eyes, and I pretended to watch the shadows outside the window, hyperaware of her head on my shoulder, her slim hand on my knee.
“Mool onyurleg, m’surry,” Kenzie mumbled, sounding half-asleep.
“What?”
“I said, if I drool on your leg, I’m sorry,” she repeated. I chuckled at that, making her crack an eye open.
“Oh, wow, the broody one can laugh after all,” she murmured, one corner of her mouth curling up. “Maybe we should alert the media.”
Smirking, I looked down, ready to give a smart-ass reply.
And suddenly, my breath caught at how close our faces were, her lips just a few inches from mine. If I ducked my head just slightly, I would kiss her. Her hair was brushing my skin, the feathery strands tickling my neck, and the fingers on my leg were very warm. Kenzie didn’t move, continuing to watch me with a faint smile. I wondered if she knew what she was doing, or if she was waiting to see what I would do.
I swallowed and carefully tilted my head back, removing the temptation. “Go to sleep.” I told her. She sniffed.
“Bossy.” But her eyes closed, and a few minutes later, a soft snore escaped her parted lips. I crossed my arms, leaned back, and prepared for a long, uncomfortable ride to Mag Tuiredh.
* * *
When I opened my eyes, it was light, and the sky through the window was mottled with sun and clouds. Groggily, I scanned the rest of the car, wondering if any faeries had crept up on us while I was asleep, but it seemed we were still alone.
My neck ached, and part of my leg was numb. I had drifted off with my chin on my chest, arms still crossed. I started to stretch but froze. Kenzie had somehow curled up on the tiny bench and was sleeping with her head on my leg.
For a few seconds, I watched her, the rise and fall of her slim body, the sun falling over her face. Seeing her like that filled me with a fierce protectiveness, an almost painful desire to keep her safe. She mumbled something and shifted closer, and I reached down, brushing the hair from her cheek.
Realizing what I was doing, I pulled my hand back, clenching my fists. Dammit, what was happening to me? I could not be falling for this girl. It was dangerous for the both of us. When we did go back to the mortal world, Kenzie would return to her old life and her old friends and her family, and I would do the same. She did not need someone like me hanging around, someone who attracted chaos and misery, who couldn’t stay out of trouble no matter how hard he tried.
I’d already ruined one girl’s life. I would not do that again. Even if I had to make her hate me, I would not do to Kenzie what I’d done to Sam.
“Hey,” I said, jostling her shoulder. “Wake up.”
She groaned, hunching her shoulders against my prodding. “Two more minutes, Mom.”
It was mean, but I scooted away from her, letting her head thump to the bench. “Ow!” she yelped, sitting up and rubbing her skull. “What the hell, Ethan?”
I nodded out the window, ignoring the immediate stab of remorse. “We’re almost there.”
Kenzie still frowned at me, but when she looked out the glass, her eyes went wide.
Mag Tuiredh. The Iron Court. I’d never been there, never seen it. I’d only learned of the city from stories, rumors I’d heard over years of existing among the fey. Meghan herself had never told me where she lived and ruled from, though I’d asked her countless times before she disappeared. She didn’t want me to know, to imagine it, to get ideas in my head that might lead me there, looking for her.
I had imagined it, of course. But as an ugly monstrosity, the images tainted by the memory of a stark black tower in the center of a blasted wasteland. The city at the end of the railroad tracks was anything but.
It was old, even from this distance, I could see that. Stone walls and mossy roofs, vines coiled around everything. Trees pushing up through rock, roots draped and curled around stone. Some of the buildings were huge—massively huge. Not sprawling so much as they looked as if they were built by a race of giants.
But the city gleamed, too. Sunlight glinted off metal spires, lights glimmered in the haze and steam, glass windows caught the faint rays and reflected them back into the sky. It reminded me of a city under construction, with sleek metal towers rising up among the ancient moss- and vine-covered buildings. And above it all, gleaming spires stabbing into the clouds, the silhouette of a huge castle stood proud and imposing over Mag Tuiredh, like a glittering mountain.
The home of the Iron Queen.
* * *
The train came to a wheezing, clanking, chugging halt at the station. Gazing out the window, I narrowed my eyes. There were a lot more Iron fey here than at the tiny border town on the lake, a lot of guards and faeries in armor. Knights with the symbol of a great iron tree on their breastplates stood at attention or roamed the streets in pairs, keeping an eye on the populace.
“Well?” came a familiar voice from behind us, and we jerked around. Grimalkin sat on the bench across from us, watching us lazily. “Are you just going to sit there until the train starts moving again?”
“Where do we go from here?” Kenzie asked, peeking out the window again. “I guess we can’t hail a taxi, right?”
Grimalkin sighed.
“This way,” he said, walking along the edge of the bench before dropping to the ground. “I will take you to the Iron Queen’s palace.”
The palace, I thought, as we followed Grimalkin down the aisle toward the doors up front. I knew the huge castle must be hers. It was just hard to imagine Meghan living in a palace now. Must be nice. Better than a rundown farmhouse or little home in the suburbs, anyway.
Following Grimalkin, we stepped through the doors and walked down the steps into the hazy streets of Mag Tuiredh.
Aside from the crowds of fey, it was difficult to believe we were still in the Nevernever. Mag Tuiredh reminded me a little of Victorian England—the steampunk version. The streets were cobblestone and lined with flickering lanterns in hues of blue and green. Carriages stood at the edge of the sidewalks, pulled by strange, mechanical horses of bright metal and copper gears. Buildings crowded the narrow streets, some stony and vine-ridden and Gothic, others decidedly more modern. Pipes crisscrossed the sky overhead, leaking steam that trickled to the ground in lacy curtains. And, of course, there were the Iron fey, looking as if they’d stepped straight out of an alchemist’s nightmare.
They stared at us as if we were the nightmares, the monsters, watching and whispering as we trailed Grimalkin through the cobblestone paths. The cat was nearly invisible in the haze and falling steam, as difficult to glimpse as a shadow in the wyldwood. I kept a tight grip on my weapons, glaring back at any fey who gave me a funny look. We were even more conspicuous here than we’d been at the border village. I hoped we could get to Meghan before anyone stepped up to challenge the two humans strolling through the middle of the faery capital.
Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen.
As we passed beneath a stone archway, clanking footsteps rang out and a squad of faery knights stepped up to block our path. Weapons drawn, they surrounded us, a ring of bristling steel, their faces cold and hard beneath their helmets. I pulled Kenzie close, trying to keep her behind me, swinging my own weapons into a ready stance. Grimalkin, I noticed, had disappeared, and I cursed him under my breath. Fey gathered behind the knights, watching and murmuring, as the tension swelled and unspoken violence hung thick on the air.
“Humans.” A knight stepped forward, pointing at me with his sword. He had a sharp face, pointed ears, and was covered head to toe in plate mail. His expression beneath the open helmet was decidedly unfriendly. “How did you get into Mag Tuiredh? Why are you here?”
“I’m here to see the Iron Queen,” I returned, not lowering my weapons, though I had no idea what I could do against so many armored knights. I didn’t think beating on them with a pair of wooden sticks would penetrate that thick steel. Not to mention, they had very sharp swords and lances, all pointed in our direction. “I don’t want any trouble. I just want to talk to Meghan. If you tell her I’m here—”
An angry murmur went through the ranks of fey. “You cannot just walk into the palace and demand an audience with the queen, mortal,” the knight said, swelling indignantly. “Who are you, to demand such things, to speak as if you know her?” He leveled his sword at my throat before I could reply. “Surrender now, intruders. We will take you to the First Lieutenant. He will decide your fate.”
“Hold!” ordered a voice, and the knights straightened immediately. The ranks parted, and a faery came through, glaring at them. Instead of armor, he wore a uniform of black and gray, the silhouette of the same iron tree on his shoulder. His spiky black hair bristled like porcupine quills, and neon strands of lightning flickered and snapped between them.
As he came into the circle, he nodded to me in a genuine show of respect, before turning on the knight. Violet eyes glimmered as he stared him down. “What is the meaning of this?”
“First Lieutenant!” The knight jerked to attention as the rest of the knights did the same. “Sir! We have apprehended these two mortal intruders. They were on their way to the palace, saying they wished an audience with the Iron Queen. We thought it best if we brought them to you. The boy claims to know her—”
“Of course he does!” the faery snapped, scowling, and the knight paled. “I know who he is, though it is apparent that you do not.”
“Sir?”
“Stand down,” said the First Lieutenant, and raised his voice, addressing all the faeries watching this little spectacle. “All of you, stand down! Bow to your prince!”
Uh. What?