MR. DUST
I barely felt the crow stab its beak into my ear, still reeling from what I’d just told the faery. I... Did I blame Keirran for Meghan’s absence? It sure sounded like I did, which made me an irrational jackass. Okay, so I’d already known I was a jackass, but an even bigger one.
The bird faery cackled, tucking the secret into the folds of its robe. “Interesting,” it said, giving me a sideways look with one beady eye. “Sometimes the biggest secrets are the ones we keep from ourselves, eh, human?”
I crossed my arms, vowing to deal with this newest personality wrinkle later. Right now, we had to find the prince. “You got your secrets,” I told the faery, stepping back to join Kenzie and Annwyl, ignoring their worried looks. “Now, tell us where we can find Keirran.”
The bird faery clacked its beak. Reaching into a tattered sleeve, it withdrew the bright blue marble and held it up, letting it glimmer in the dim light.
“Secrets for secrets,” it rasped and tossed it at me.
I caught it instinctively, and the second the globe touched my skin, there was a flash behind my eyes, and I was somewhere else.
Or maybe someone else. I stood in the same room, facing the lanterns and the crows and the hunched old bird faery in the center of the nest. But I wasn’t me. I don’t know how I knew this; maybe because I couldn’t move or even speak. It was like I was a passenger in someone else’s head.
“And you’re certain this person can help me?”
The voice echoed inside my head, low and familiar. Across from me, the bird faery shook itself. “Secrets for secrets,” it rasped, nodding. “You have what you came for, boy. Leave now.”
I, or rather, the person whose head I was inhabiting, turned, slipped out of the tent and began walking.
I kept my eyes open, though I didn’t have much of a choice, and tried to pay attention to where I was going. Past the goblin market and the vendors haggling their unearthly merchandise, I ducked down a side alley that took me away from the main stretch. Across a deserted street, a wall of old, crumbling apartments sat at the edge of the pavement. I scanned the line of doors until I found the one I was looking for. Simple, unmarked, painted black.
Walking up the three steps to the stoop, I knocked twice, and the door swung back, revealing a shark-toothed redcap in the frame. The faery’s dull yellow eyes widened at the sight of me, but it didn’t move.
“Yeah?” it growled, baring crooked fangs. “Whaddya want?”
“I’m here to see Mr. Dust.”
Mr. who? I wondered, but the redcap blinked slowly and nodded, stepping aside. As I crossed the threshold, I felt a pushing sensation, as if I was being shoved back. A tall figure in a hooded cloak, the head I’d been hijacking, I guessed, stepped away from me, walking through the frame and leaving me behind. I tried to follow, but I couldn’t move without my host body, and the redcap slammed the door in my face.
I jerked, opening my eyes, to find Kenzie and Annwyl staring at me anxiously. The bird faery, too, peered at me from beneath its hood, silent and waiting. I rubbed my eyes, trying to shake the creepy feeling of being in someone else’s head.
“You okay?” Kenzie asked, and there was a note of real concern in her voice, not just a courtesy offered to a friend. I nodded.
“Yeah. I’m fine.” Turning around, I stared at the tent flaps, remembering the way they’d parted for the figure, his path through the goblin market and the unmarked black door at the top of the steps. “Better yet, I know where to find Keirran.”
* * *
“Well, that’s just all kinds of ominous,” Kenzie remarked as we stood at the bottom of the steps, gazing up at the black door. “Didn’t I see this once in American Horror Story?”
“This place feels wrong.” Annwyl gave the buildings and especially the door a suspicious glare and shook her head. “Why would Keirran come here?”
“Let’s go ask him.” I double-checked to make sure my swords were still in place, then walked up the steps and knocked twice on the wood.
It creaked open to reveal the same redcap on the other side, who gave me an astonished look as he peered through the frame. “Well, well,” it mused as the shock faded and was replaced by eager hunger. “What do we have here? You lost, human? You can obviously See me, so you should’ve known not to come here.”
“I’m looking for Mr. Dust,” I said, and the redcap snorted.
“How do you know that name? And why would a human need to see Mr. Dust? He ain’t got nothing for the likes of you.” The redcap bared its fangs. “Beat it, mortal. Don’t waste his time.”
“Not an option.”
“I’m warning you, boy. Get lost, before I bite your tasty little head off.”
I drew my sword. “My head isn’t the one in danger here.”
“Hold.”
A soft hand touched my elbow, making me pause. I blinked in surprise as Annwyl joined me at the top of the steps and faced the redcap calmly.
“I am Annwyl, former handmaiden to Queen Titania herself,” Annwyl stated in an even, almost regal voice as the redcap eyed her curiously. “And I wish to see Mr. Dust. The mortals are of no consequence—they are here to accompany me. The boy is only doing what he has been trained to do. Let us pass.”
“Ah.” The redcap smirked and gave me a disgusted look. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place?” he growled, opening the door and stepping back for Annwyl. She nodded and swept by without looking at him. I swallowed my astonishment and followed with Kenzie as the redcap’s guttural voice trailed us down the hall. “Keep your pets under control next time, lady. I might’ve eaten your little guard dog on principle.”
“I apologize,” Annwyl said quietly as we walked down the long, narrow hallway on the other side of the door. “I thought that it would be better to try to get through without bloodshed.”
“No arguments here,” I told her. “In fact, I think you should act like that more often. I mean, I don’t want you to go snooty aristocratic faery on me, but you were part of Titania’s circle. You were kind of important.”
“Once,” Annwyl said with a faint smile. “Not anymore.”
The hallway ended at another unmarked black door, and when I opened it, an even longer, thinner alleyway wound off into the darkness.
“Seriously?” Kenzie muttered. “Good thing I’m not claustrophobic. Somehow, I don’t think Keirran is here to buy unicorns and rainbow dust.”
The corridor was just wide enough for us to walk through single file. I drew one of my swords, just in case anything came at us, and motioned the girls forward. Kenzie stepped behind me, taking the back of my jacket like she was afraid we’d get separated, and Annwyl brought up the rear. Carefully, we ventured into the darkness.
The alleyway grew even more winding and narrow, until it seemed we were weaving our way through a crack between buildings. Cold, hard stone scraped my chest and back, as if the walls were slowly drawing together, crushing me until I popped like a grape between them. My heart pounded against my ribs, and I imagined it was getting harder and harder to breathe. And just as I was beginning to think we should turn around before we all got stuck, I finally spotted a thin black door at the end of the crazy, twisted passage and hurried toward it.
Spitefully, the door retreated, or at least it seemed that way, drawing farther back even as we rushed forward, keeping the same amount of distance between us. Finally, after chasing the door for several minutes, I lunged forward, and my hand finally latched on to the glimmering brass knob.
Panting, I looked over my shoulder to see if Kenzie and Annwyl were still with me. They were; Kenzie still had a tight hold of my jacket, and Annwyl pressed close behind her, gazing up at the door in fear.
“I can feel the glamour through the walls,” she murmured, drawing back slightly, both hands going to her chest. “This whole place is pulsing with it. But...it’s wrong, somehow. Dark.” She shivered, rubbing her arms. “There is something evil through that door.”
Goose bumps crawled up my arms. Annwyl wasn’t kidding. Even though I wasn’t sensitive to magic, I could still feel the wrongness of this place. It slithered from the walls, closing in on either side. It seeped from the door in front of me, leaving an oily taint on my skin, making me feel dirty. I gripped my sword with one hand and the knob with the other.
“Stay close,” I whispered to the girls behind me and turned the handle.
The door creaked inward. Beyond the frame, darkness hovered like a ragged curtain, broken only by tiny yellow orbs that looked vaguely familiar. As I stepped cautiously into the room, I saw why.
Forgotten. The lights were the eyes of those strange, shadowy Forgotten that had appeared in City Park this morning. The ones who had killed the Oracle. I could barely make them out in the choking darkness, but there were dozens of twin glowing eyes, perched on shelves, crouched in the corners of the room. And all were suddenly fixed on us.
Behind us, the door slammed shut with a bang.
I raised my sword and put myself between the girls and the Forgotten, hoping the strange, shadowy fey wouldn’t swarm us like ants. But the Forgotten didn’t move, though I saw their glowing eyes shift focus to Annwyl, standing between me and Kenzie. I remembered what the Forgotten had done to her before; drained nearly all her glamour when she was held prisoner by their queen, and I tensed to slice them down if they tried anything like that again. But they stayed where they were, and I took a quick glance around the room.
My eyes weren’t adjusting to the clinging darkness like they should be. Even though I saw torches flickering at the corners and in brackets on posts around the room, everything remained choked in shadow, hidden and unseen. I could make out vague impressions of sofas, shelves, a desk in the corner, but the darkness seemed almost a living thing, smothering something as soon as I focused on it, hiding it from view.
“What is this place?” Kenzie whispered beside me.
Somewhere in the blackness, a door creaked open, and footsteps thumped over the ground toward us. Two redcaps, their fangs glimmering in the gloom, stalked around a corner and stopped short when they saw us.
“What the—” Beady yellow eyes peered at me, mean and challenging. “Humans? How the hell did you tidbits find this place? Ain’t nothing here for you.”
Before I could answer, the other one tapped him on the shoulder and pointed a stubby finger at Annwyl. “There’s your answer. That one’s a Fader—I’d bet my hat on it.” To me, he said, “If you’re here to see Mr. Dust, he’s busy with a customer. We’ll tell him you’re here, so stay put till then. The rest of you blighters—” he glared around at the group of silent Forgotten and bared his fangs “—stop thinking you can sneak around back and we won’t notice. You’re real enough that the arms pop right out of the sockets if we pull, so remember that. You’ll get your fix when Mr. Dust gives it to you, not before.”
The Forgotten shifted restlessly but didn’t answer. The redcap snorted and turned away, while his friend paused to eye me hungrily, running a black tongue over his teeth. I met his gaze, narrowing my eyes, daring him to try. He sneered, spat on the floor and followed the other redcap into the darkness.
“Come on,” Kenzie whispered and stepped around me, pulling Annwyl in the direction the redcaps had vanished. “There has to be a door back here somewhere.”
“Wait!” I hissed, but they weren’t listening.
Gripping my swords, I followed the faint glow of Annwyl’s hair, past the staring eyes of the Forgotten, until we came to a small black door in the corner. Kenzie carefully turned the knob and cracked it open to peer through.
“What do you see?” Annwyl asked, hovering behind her, while I glared back at the room, looking for any Forgotten coming after us. “Is Keirran in there?”
“I don’t see anything,” Kenzie replied and eased the door open. “Come on, before someone finds us.”
They slipped through the frame, and I had no choice but to follow.
This room was better lit, but I almost wished that it wasn’t. Directly in front of us was an enormous shelf full of things you’d find in a horror film. Knives and wooden baseball bats, hockey masks, clown wigs, eerie dolls, skulls and bones. A scythe leaned against the side of the shelf, huge blade glimmering in the torchlight, and a shriveled, shrunken head dangled by its hair, spinning lazily to face us. Huge, hairy spiders crawled freely over the macabre bric-a-brac, and a large snake lay coiled around a skull on the middle shelf, watching us with beady eyes.
Kenzie pressed a hand to her mouth and shrank back, trembling, but I caught the murmur of voices from the front of the room. Carefully, I eased up to the shelf, trying to ignore the awful contents, and peeked through.
A desk sat against the far wall, a pair of redcaps standing on either side. Seated in the chair was a tall, spindly man with pale skin and dark hair that writhed atop his head like shadows. His ears were pointed, his eyes completely black, and he steepled his fingers under his sharp chin, appraising the cloaked, hooded figure standing across from him.
“I apologize for the delay,” the man said, his voice a slithering whisper that reminded me of snakes and insects and other unpleasant things. “Business has been quite busy of late. I normally do not get such esteemed visitors to my humble shop. My clients are usually exiles or, more recently, the scores of fey you saw outside. I cannot imagine you would need what I offer.”
“It’s not for me,” said a quiet, instantly familiar voice, and my heart leaped to my throat. Annwyl stifled a gasp, and I put a warning hand on her arm. I almost lunged forward to grab the hooded figure myself, but something made me pause. Something about him was different. Even though it was the same calm, polite tone I recognized from before, his voice was cold, and the two redcaps near the desk were eyeing him in fear.
The man behind the desk blinked slowly. “And are you certain I have what your...friend...needs?” he asked. “I normally do not deal with middlemen—if the client has need of my merchandise, they come get it themselves. The price depends on many things—how long they have been exiled, how close to the Fade they are, how soon they need it. All of this affects price, as I need to know how potent a mixture they should have. Your friend should really be here.”
“Well, she’s not,” the hooded figure said, his voice hard. “And you’ll deal with me, because there’s no time left. The Fade has already begun.”
“Already begun?” The man straightened, suddenly intrigued. “Well, if that is the case, she’ll need the strongest mix possible. Of course...” He eyed the figure, a slow smile spreading over his face. “That means the price will be...quite high.”
“That’s fine” was the immediate answer. “Price doesn’t matter. Whatever it takes, as long as it’s from me.”
“No!”
Annwyl couldn’t contain herself any longer. Breaking away, she rushed around the shelf into the room. “Keirran, no!”
Cursing, I scrambled out of hiding, Kenzie right behind me, as the hooded figure spun, his cloak swirling around him. My stomach lurched as our gazes met. Cold ice-blue eyes stabbed at me from beneath the hood, and bright silver hair fell around his face, the only spots of color to be seen. Beneath the cloak, he was dressed in black: black shirt, pants, boots, even gloves. I remembered the smiling, easygoing faery from just a week ago. The hard-eyed creature dressed all in black, staring at me in this den of shadow and fear, seemed like a stranger.
But then his gaze slid to Annwyl, and the cold stranger disappeared as shock replaced the impassiveness in his eyes. Keirran stepped forward, his voice an awed whisper. “Annwyl?”
She rushed forward, and the prince’s arms opened as the Summer girl threw herself into him. Keirran hugged her close, closing his eyes. “Annwyl,” he murmured again, sounding relieved and almost desperate. His hood had fallen back, and the torchlight glimmered over his loose silver hair as he buried his face in her neck. Kenzie smiled, watching them, while I glared at the man and the lurking redcaps, making sure they didn’t try anything.
Keirran pulled back but didn’t release the Summer faery, pressing a palm to her cheek, his face intense, worried. “Annwyl, what are you doing here? Why aren’t you with Leanansidhe? Ethan...” His icy gaze flicked to me, but it was just puzzled now, looking like the prince I remembered. “Why are you and Kenzie here?”
“I asked them to come,” Annwyl replied, drawing Keirran’s attention back to her. “I needed to find you. They agreed to help.”
“Excuse me,” said the man behind the desk, standing up. His redcap guards had drawn forward, but he held up a hand, waving them back. “Not to interrupt, but we do have a business transaction to complete.” His stark black eyes fixed on Annwyl, and he cocked his head. “I assume this is the friend in question?”
Keirran sobered. “Yes,” he replied, keeping a tight hold of Annwyl’s hand as he stepped forward. “It is. Can you help her? I’ll pay any price.”
“No!” Annwyl tugged at his sleeve, and he gave her a puzzled frown. She drew him away from the desk, back toward the corner. Kenzie and I followed, myself keeping a wary eye on the man and his redcap guards.
Back near the shelf with its awful contents, Annwyl faced Keirran again, taking both his hands. “Keirran, please,” she whispered, gazing into his eyes. “You can’t do this. I don’t want you bargaining your life away, not for me. The price is always too high. You don’t—”
He kissed her, stopping her arguments. Kenzie blinked, and I looked away, my face heating. Keirran didn’t seem to notice or care. Pulling back, he gazed down at Annwyl, his face angry, defiant and tender all at once.
“I love you,” he said, without a trace of embarrassment or hesitation. “Please, let me do this. I finally found a way to halt the Fade. Mr. Dust has something that can stop it. No price is too high for that.”
“A way to stop the Fade?” Annwyl looked stunned, and Keirran smiled at her.
“Yes,” he replied, brushing her hair back. “There is something that can halt it, Annwyl. If it will keep you here, if it will stop you from Fading, I will gladly pay the cost, whatever it might be.”
I didn’t like where this was going at all. Another cardinal rule of Faery: if something seemed too good to be true, it was. “What is it?” I asked, and Keirran’s gaze flicked to me. “This miracle cure that can stop the Fade,” I continued. “If it’s so wonderful, why don’t more of the fey know about it? Why is this place so difficult to find?”
He hesitated this time, and I narrowed my eyes. Kenzie, it appeared, had caught it, too. “Truth, Keirran,” she added, making him wince. “You owe it to Annwyl, before either of you agree to anything. She should know what’s going on. What’s the catch?”
“There is no catch,” Keirran said in a soft voice. Annwyl gazed up at him, and he turned back to her, lowering his head. “Mr. Dust offers a special kind of potent glamour that can temporarily halt the Fade,” he began. “He has several clients that are exiles, those banished from the Nevernever, but he has also started working with the Forgotten, now that they can no longer drain the magic of exiled fey. It’s distilled from the glamour of mortals, and taken in small, consistent amounts, it will provide the user with enough magic to live in the mortal world. However, the way he acquires it is...upsetting for some.”
“How?” I asked, not liking the sound of that at all. “What does he use to ‘acquire’ this glamour?”
“Fear” was the quiet response. “Fear is very powerful, and the stronger the fear, the more potent the glamour acquired from it. Most mortals don’t believe in the fey—they can’t see them, and they’ve stopped believing in monsters.” He swallowed. “Except one very select group.”
I felt ill and had to fight a very real urge to drive my fist into Keirran’s jaw. “You mean children,” I growled, remembering my own days as a toddler, seeing my closet door creak open, eyes peering at me from the darkness. “Little kids, before they grow up and forget about the monsters in their room. That’s where this ‘cure’ comes from, doesn’t it?”
He met my gaze, unrepentant. “I know. I know it’s horrible. But mortal children have been frightened by the fey and the things in the dark since time began. It’s nothing new. Why shouldn’t someone take advantage of that? Especially if it can save lives?” He turned from me then, drawing Annwyl close, his voice pleading. “I would do anything to save you,” he whispered. “If there was another way, someone else I could go to, I wouldn’t be here. But this is the only solution I could find, and I’ve searched the world over, looking for magic spells, scrolls, amulets, anything that would help. Nothing was powerful enough to stop the Fade.”
Amulet. Something clicked in my head then. Kenzie wore an amulet, one that contained some pretty potent magic. Magic that had saved her life once. What had Guro told me that night, right before I left for New Orleans?
If you or your friends need anything, magic or otherwise, please come to me. I cannot go with you into the hidden world, but I can make it so it is not quite so dangerous. Remember that, if you are ever in need of help.
It was a long shot for certain. I didn’t know what kind of magic Guro could do, if he could even help a faery. But he knew about the hidden world, and I’d seen his magic with my own eyes. And given the choices, I’d rather take my chances with Guro than a creepy faery drug dealer whose “payment” would likely be something horrible.
Of course, we still had to convince my stubborn nephew not to go through with this.
“I’ve exhausted all other options,” Keirran went on earnestly, unaware of my sudden revelation. “There’s nothing left. I have to bargain with Mr. Dust.”
“At what cost, Keirran?” Annwyl shook her head. “Am I to take this glamour forever? Will you continue to pay for my life? What will happen if he asks for something unforgivable, something you cannot give?” Keirran closed his eyes, pressing his forehead to hers, and Annwyl stroked his cheek. “Even if this could keep me here awhile longer, I couldn’t bear the price. I couldn’t live with the knowledge that you are taking my place.”
“If it’s the only way—”
“It’s not,” I said, interrupting him. “Dammit, Keirran, just listen to me for a second. There might be another way.”
Ice-blue eyes turned to me, surprised and wary. Kenzie and Annwyl glanced my way as well, their expressions puzzled. But at that moment, it seemed Mr. Dust had had enough. “Humans,” he rasped, a note of irritation in his voice. “This is a place of business, not a place to stand around and chat. If you are quite finished, I believe the boy and I have a contract to fulfill.”
He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small leather pouch, pulling it open with long, bony fingers. Reaching into the bag, he pulled out a handful of black dust, letting it slip through his fingers into the bag again. The grains sparkled in the torchlight, like powdered black diamond, and I felt a chill slide up my back. “This is what you came for, is it not?” he whispered, staring at Keirran, who straightened at the sight of it.
“Keirran,” I warned, desperate to stop him, knowing he had only to speak one word to complete this bargain. “Do not say yes. You don’t have to do this. I’m telling you, there’s another way. You just have to trust me.”
“Keirran, please listen to him,” Annwyl said, taking his arm.
The prince finally turned to me, his expression intense. “Can you promise me your way will work?” he asked, his voice fervent. “Can you swear that if I agree to this, Annwyl will be saved?”
“I...” I hesitated, stabbing a hand through my hair. “I can’t...make that promise,” I admitted, watching his eyes narrow. “I just know someone who might be able to help.” Frustration colored my voice, and I jerked a thumb at the faeries watching us. “But it’s gotta be better than drugging your girlfriend with whatever crack this sicko is dealing.”
“But you don’t know.” Keirran’s tone was frustrated, too. “You don’t know if your way will stop the Fade. I can’t risk it, Ethan. Not now.”
“Boy.” Mr. Dust’s voice was no longer soothing or cajoling. “You are trying my patience,” he warned, and I noticed several more redcaps and an ogre had crept out of the shadows to join him. All the faeries looked pretty unfriendly, watching us with glowing eyes, a string of drool hanging from the ogre’s tusk. “And I have other clients waiting up front, so I’ll need an answer, boy. What’s it to be?”
Keirran took a breath to speak, but Kenzie beat him to it.
“These other clients,” she said, making us all stare at her, “they’re Forgotten, aren’t they?”
Mr. Dust blinked at her, then shrugged. “Yes,” he said. “As I said before, many of my clients are exiles, but the Forgotten Queen and I have worked out a deal. I provide them with the glamour they need to live, since they cannot get it anywhere else, and in turn they perform...certain tasks for me. A fair bargain for all.”
“Yeah?” Kenzie’s expression was hard, angry. “Fair bargain, huh? Then answer me this. The Forgotten didn’t always look like that, all dark and shadowy. Did they get that way from taking your black dust or from something else?”
The faery sniffed. “The Forgotten are a special case,” he said, and I heard him trying to dance around the question. “My dust is very potent, and it seems they have no glamour of their own to temper it. Very recently, a few of them have begun...changing, taking on the darker aspects that went into its making. They’re starting to personify fear. Fear of the unknown, of the shadowy terrors that lurk in the darkness and under beds. Fear of the dark and all that it hides.”
“So, you’re turning them into nightmares? Is that what’s happening?”
“Of course not.” Mr. Dust bared flat, even teeth in a very unhuman grimace. “I don’t see why I must explain this to you, mortal, but...think of a painting of a sunset. Everyone knows what a sunset looks like. If someone told you to paint a sunset, you would at least know where to start, yes?” He didn’t wait for her to answer, but continued in the same slightly irritated voice. “Now, mortal, picture a blank canvas. Imagine that you’d never seen a sunset, didn’t even know what one looked like, and someone asked you to paint one. Not only that, the only colors you were allowed were black and gray. Do you think your sunset would look anything like the real thing?
“The Forgotten are a blank canvas,” Mr. Dust went on as Kenzie frowned in confusion. “No one knows what they are, no one remembers what they looked like. The Forgotten themselves barely remember anything. Who they were, how they lived—it’s all a blank to them. And so, they can be altered, if the only ‘colors’ they are provided are shades of black and gray. They can change...they can be molded into something completely different than their original form. So you saw with the crowd outside. Soon, that will be all they know.
“But you need not worry your pretty head about that, mortal.” Mr. Dust waved a thin, airy hand. “Only the Forgotten are susceptible to that little...side effect. Your friend was part of the Seelie Court once, yes?” He smiled at Annwyl, who shivered. “She will not be affected like them.
“Now.” Mr. Dust turned back to Keirran, clasping his hands together. “We keep getting interrupted, my boy,” he stated, a dangerous edge creeping into his sibilant voice. “And I am losing patience. I need an answer. This instant. And if your friends attempt to stop us, I will have the redcaps rip out their throats.” The pouch appeared again, dangling from a long, bony finger. “Do we have a deal?”
“You still haven’t told me the price,” Keirran said before I could interrupt. “What do you want for it?”
“Dammit, Keirran—”
“I’ve come all this way,” the Iron Prince said coolly, still not looking at me or any of us. “I can’t leave empty-handed. Not if it means saving her life.” His gaze met the faery dealer’s, cold and rational. “What’s the cost for the dust tonight?”
Mr. Dust smiled.
“A very special bargain,” he crooned, his sharp gaze flicking to Kenzie and me. “A onetime offer. The price for the dust will be...the two mortals. Give them to me, and I will provide your girl with a lifetime supply of glamour. You will never have to make another payment after tonight.”
“What?” My skin crawled, and the walls of the room seemed to close in on us. I glared at the faery dealer, my hands dropping to my swords. “Not that I have any intention of letting that happen, but why the hell do you want us?”
“They have the Sight,” Mr. Dust continued, speaking to Keirran and ignoring me. “If they can See us, they can fear us, and that is worth more than the nightmares of a dozen children. Give me the two humans, Prince, and I will provide you with all the glamour you need, for as long as they are alive. Be warned, however. If you refuse, the price will become much higher. That is my offer, boy. What say you? Do we have a deal?”
I met Keirran’s gaze. He stared back, eyes glittering, reminding me of that night in the Lady’s throne room. When the Queen of the Forgotten asked Keirran if he would return, if he would promise to come back to her of his own free will, and he agreed. I’d tried to stop him then, too. But once Keirran’s mind was set, there was no talking him down. I didn’t think Keirran would stoop so low as to stab us in the back, but I couldn’t get that night, the night he’d almost betrayed me, out of my head.
Don’t you dare sell us out, Keirran, I thought, holding his stare. I will never forgive you, and if we have to fight our way out of this, you’ll be the first one I’m going through.
“Keirran,” Annwyl whispered, taking his arm, “please...don’t.”
Keirran closed his eyes and turned to face Mr. Dust.
“No,” he said firmly, and my insides uncoiled with relief. “No deal. That’s the one thing I can’t give you. This bargain is off.” His icy glare stabbed into me for the briefest of seconds before he turned back to the fey dealer. “I’m sorry we’ve wasted your time. We’ll show ourselves out.”
“That,” Mr. Dust said, withdrawing the leather pouch, “is very unfortunate. But I’m afraid you’re not going anywhere.”
The redcaps and ogre pressed forward, grinning eagerly. Keirran instantly drew his sword, about the same instant as I pulled my mine. The screech of weapons echoed through the small room as we stepped in front of the girls. The redcaps hooted, baring their fangs, and the ogre rumbled a challenge.
Keirran looked around calmly. “You don’t want to do this,” he warned.
Mr. Dust clasped his hands in front of him again, seemingly unconcerned. “When I said the price would jump substantially if you refused, I was not making idle threats,” he hissed. “The price has just gotten much higher. Now we bargain for something new. Your lives.”
“Yeah, I think I’ve reached my shopping limit for the day,” I said, backing toward the exit, keeping myself between Annwyl, Kenzie and the advancing redcaps. The door behind us banged open, and several more of the evil fey spilled into the room, trapping us between them. I cursed and spared a glance at the prince beside me, feeling the air chill around him. “Great. Tell me you saw this coming, Prince.”
Keirran gave a small, humorless smile. “From a mile away,” he said and raised his free arm.
Glamour swirled around him, invisible, but I could feel the icy cold radiating from the prince, the magic of Winter and the Unseelie Court. It tossed his silver hair, making his eyes glow blue-white. I shivered as frost crept over the walls and floor, making my breath hang in front of my face. The redcaps paused, and Keirran turned a deadly cold glare on Mr. Dust.
“Tell your minions to back off, or none of them will see another day.”
His voice was soft but as lethal as the icicles forming on the ceiling, making sharp, crinkling sounds as they grew into wicked points. Mr. Dust gave a soft hiss, staring at Keirran with new eyes.
“Let us go.” Keirran didn’t move, but the temperature in the room was getting colder. The redcaps looked uncomfortable, and the ribbons of drool hanging from the ogre’s tusks had frozen solid. I resisted the urge to rub my arms, keeping my swords raised and myself close to Kenzie and Annwyl. “Let us walk away,” Keirran insisted in an icy voice, “or everyone in this room will die, including you.”
“You don’t want to do that, boy,” Mr. Dust whispered, his voice soothing again. “If I am gone, there will be no more dust, no way to stop the Fading of exiles and Forgotten. You don’t want to be responsible for that, now, do you?” When Keirran hesitated, the faery smiled. “All you have to do is leave me the two mortals, and we can avoid this unpleasantness. You will have your dust, and the Summer girl will be saved. Surely you can see the wisdom in this? What are two humans to the Iron Prince? The world is crawling with them. Just promise me these two, and our bargain will be complete.”
I didn’t know what to expect, but it wasn’t Keirran’s laughter, quiet and mocking, as he shook his head at the faery dealer. “That’s quite an offer,” he said, lowering his arm. “But I think you’re forgetting something.”
“Oh? And what is that, boy?”
Keirran dropped to one knee, driving his fist into the wooden floor. There was a blinding flash of blue-white, and I flinched, turning away, as roars and screams erupted around us. But a second later, they cut out as if someone had flipped a switch. My skin burned with cold, and I opened my eyes with a gasp.
The room now resembled the interior of an icebox. Everything was frozen, buried under several inches of solid ice. The redcaps and the lone ogre stood in the same spots, arms thrown up and mouths gaping, encased in a layer of frozen crystal.
In the center of the room, Mr. Dust blinked at us, unharmed. Keirran rose, panting, and gave the faery dealer a hard smile.
“I don’t sell out my family.”
I was pretty sure my mouth was hanging open as Keirran calmly turned to me and jerked his head at the door. “Come on,” he said, sounding tired. “Let’s get out of here.”
No one argued, and no one tried to stop us. We walked past the frozen ogre and redcaps, trying not to look at the once-living fey, following Keirran as he strode across the room and pushed open the door...
...to face a horde of Forgotten on the other side.
I tensed, gripping my swords. Great, out of the frying pan, into the fire. And here I’d thought we were home free. But the Forgotten didn’t move, watching us with glowing yellow eyes, and Keirran, standing in the doorway, gazed calmly back.
And then the crowd of Forgotten parted, bowing their heads and moving aside. Keirran took Annwyl’s hand and stepped through the door, moving steadily across the room. Warily, the rest of us followed, and the horde of Forgotten watched us leave, standing to either side like an army of shadows, silent and unmoving.
It gave me the creeps.
Keirran didn’t stop until we were out the door, through the twisted alleyway that was far shorter than I remembered and across the street. Pulling Annwyl into the dark space between two buildings, he turned on me with a bright, desperate look in his eyes.
“All right,” he began, staring me down, “I did what you asked. I refused the deal that would suppress the Fade, and I think I’ve burned all bridges with Mr. Dust. Please tell me you have something else, Ethan. Something that will stop this.”
I swallowed. “I do. Or, at least, my Guro does. You met him before, remember?” Keirran nodded, and I went on. “He’s a tuhon, a faith healer of his people, and he’s also skilled in the magic arts. He said if we were to find you, to come to him. He might be able to help.”
“Might?” Keirran asked and shook his head. “What if he can’t? What will happen then?” He glanced at Annwyl, his expression tormented. “If this doesn’t work, what am I supposed to do?”
The Summer faery’s eyes were gentle as she touched the side of his face. “You could let me go, my prince. Sometimes, that is the only choice.”
Keirran’s gaze turned defiant, but before he could reply, another voice pierced the darkness above us.
“Master!”
A spindly, bat-eared creature with huge green eyes scuttled down the wall like a huge spider and leaped at Keirran, landing on his chest. “Master!” the gremlin cried again, tugging on his shirt. “Master, he is coming! He is coming!” His head swiveled around then, catching sight of Kenzie, and he flung himself at her with a joyful cry. “Pretty girl! Pretty girl is here!”
“Hey, Razor.” Kenzie grinned as she caught him. The gremlin buzzed and scrambled to her shoulders, flashing his blue-white smile. “I was wondering where you were.”
“Who is coming?” Keirran asked, and the gremlin’s ears pressed flat to his skull.
“Dark elf,” he almost whispered. “Dark elf coming. Now.”
Dark elf? Oh no. That could only mean one person. And by the way Keirran went pale, he was thinking the same thing.
Cautiously, we edged up to the wall and peeked around the corner.
A silhouette was striding down the center of the road, heading for the alley we’d just vacated. Lean, tall, a long black coat rippling behind him, he was instantly recognizable. Even from this distance, I could see the glow of his sword, blue-black and deadly, and the glint of a cold silver eye.
Keirran lunged back from the edge.
“This way!” he whispered and grabbed Annwyl’s hand. “Hurry, before he sees us!”
“Keirran, wait!” I hurried after them, Kenzie right behind us, still holding Razor. “Why are you hiding from your parents?” I demanded as we ducked out of the alley into the goblin market, Keirran looking around wildly. “Are you in trouble? What have you done?”
“I haven’t done anything,” Keirran replied and seemed to pick a direction, jogging toward it with us hurrying to catch up.
“Right. That’s why we’re running away from the freaking Prince Consort of the Iron Court!”
“Keirran!”
The deep, booming voice made me wince. I glanced over my shoulder...to see Ash on the rooftops across the street, the full moon at his back, staring right at us.
Keirran took off, weaving through the groups of fey, dodging unearthly vendors and shoppers and trying to melt into the crowd. The rest of us scrambled after him, and I didn’t dare to look back to see how close Ash was.
“This way!” Keirran urged, ducking into a small, deserted side street. No fey walked the sidewalks, and the road seemed eerily abandoned. Worse, a tall fence stood at the end of the street, preventing us from going any farther.
I panted and glared at Keirran. “Dead end. Looks like we’ll have to face him after all.”
“No, we won’t.” Keirran ran his fingers along the wall, his gaze narrowed. “Where is it?” he murmured. “The Veil is thin here. I can feel it. Where...”
A tall silhouette appeared at the end of the street, just as Keirran pushed his hand into the wall and moved it aside, parting it like a curtain. Beyond the sudden crack was darkness and mist, and the prince gestured to us impatiently. “Hurry! Through here!”
Annwyl and Kenzie vanished through the tear, Razor jabbering on Kenzie’s shoulder. Keirran glanced at me and jerked his head as Ash came steadily closer. “Come on, Ethan!”
I muttered a curse, ducked my head and plunged into the once-solid brick wall, feeling like I was passing through a film of cobwebs. Keirran was right behind me, dropping the curtain as he did, giving me a split-second glance of the street through the gap. Then the opening swooshed shut, closing the tear between realities, and the real world vanished behind us.