Ironside (10 page)

“How did you find this place?” Kaye asked.

Luis looked at Kaye. “Remember that faery my friend Val dueled with in the Unseelie Court?”

Kaye nodded. “Mabry. She had goat feet. Tried to kill Roiben. Your friend killed her.”

“This is Mabry’s old place.” Luis sighed and turned back to her. “Look, I don’t want you talking to my brother. Faeries messed him up pretty bad. You leave him alone.”

“Sure,” Corny said.

Luis led them into a parlor room furnished with overturned milk cartons and ripped-up sofas. A very thin black boy with dreads that stuck up from his head like spikes sat on the floor, eating jelly beans out of a cellophane bag. His features reminded Corny of Luis’s, but there was an eerie hollowness around his eyes, and his mouth looked sunken and strange.

Kaye plopped herself onto the mustard plaid couch, sprawling against the cushions. The back was ripped, and stuffing tufted up from the torn cloth beside a stain that looked a lot like blood. Corny sat down next to her.

“Dave,” Luis said. “Some people I’m helping out. They’re going to stay the night. That doesn’t mean we all need to get friendly—” A buzzing interrupted him. He stuck his hand into the pocket, pulling out his beeper. “Shit.”

“You can use my cell,” Corny volunteered, and immediately felt like a sucker. What was he doing being nice to this guy?

Luis paused for a moment, and in the dim light his clouded eye looked blue. “There’s a pay phone at the bodega on—” He interrupted himself. “Yeah, okay. I’d appreciate it.”

Corny stared a moment too long, then looked away, fumbling through his pockets. Dave narrowed his eyes.

Dialing, Luis walked out of the room.

Kaye leaned over to Corny and whispered, “What were you doing out there?”

“He sees through glamour,” Corny whispered back. “I heard about him—he’s been breaking faerie curses.”

She snorted. “No wonder he doesn’t want humans knowing he’s in bed with the Seelie Court. He’s playing both sides. When he comes back, you should ask him about your hands.”

“What do you mean ‘in bed’?” Dave asked. His voice was dry, like rustling paper. “What’s my brother doing?”

“She doesn’t mean anything,” Corny said.

“How come we’re not supposed to talk to you?” Kaye asked.

“Kaye,”
Corny warned.

“What?” Her voice was low. “Luis isn’t here. I want to know.”

Dave laughed, hollow and bitter. “Always trying to be the big brother. He’s trippin’ if he thinks he can stop them from killing me.”

“Who wants to kill you?” Corny asked.

“Luis and I used to be delivery boys for a troll.” Dave dumped a handful of jelly beans into his mouth and talked around the chewing. “Potions. Keep the iron sickness from getting to them. But if a person takes it—you know what you can do?”

Corny leaned forward, intrigued despite himself. “What?”

“Anything,” Dave said. “All the shit they can do. All of it.”

There was a distant banging, like someone had come to the door. Kaye turned toward the doorway, wide-eyed.

A half-chewed licorice bean fell from Dave’s mouth. “Sounds like my brother’s going to be busy awhile. Did you know that drinking urine drives out faerie enchantments?”

“Nasty.” Kaye made a face.

Dave wheezed with what might have been laughter. “Bet he’s pissing in some cups right now.”

Kaye scrunched down in the sofa, kicking off her boots and putting her feet on Corny’s lap. They smelled like the crushed stems of dandelions and he thought of dandelion milk covering his fingers, sticky and white, on a summer lawn years ago, while he pulled off flower heads and tossed them at his dozing sister. He was abruptly choked by grief.

“So wait,” Kaye said. “Why do they want to kill you?”

“’Cause I poisoned a bunch of them. So I’m a dead man, but what good does it do to stay shut up in here while Luis tries to bargain for an extra week or two of boredom? At least I can have some fun with the time I got left.” Dave grinned, but it looked more like a grimace, the skin on his cheeks pulled painfully tight. “Luis can tell me what to do all he wants, but he’s going upstate this week. While the cat’s away, the mouse’ll finally get some play.”

Corny blinked hard, like the pressure of his eyelids could push back memories. “Wait,” he said. “You murdered a bunch of faeries?”

“You think I didn’t?” Dave asked.

“Hey!” Luis stood in the doorway. A Latina girl and an older woman stood behind him. “What are you doing?”

Corny circled one of Kaye’s ankles with a gloved hand.

“I’ll talk to whoever I want, “Dave said, standing up. “You think you’re better than me, giving orders.”

“I think I
know
better than you,” Luis said.

The girl turned toward Corny, and he saw that her arms and face were shadowed by something that looked like vines growing beneath her skin. Tiny smears of dried blood dotted where the points of thorns stuck up through her flesh.

“You don’t know anything.” Dave kicked a table, sending it crashing onto its side, and walked out of the room.

Luis turned toward Kaye. “If I hear—if he tells me you came anywhere near him,” he shouted. “If you spoke to him—”

“Please,” said the woman. “My daughter!”

“I’m sorry,” Luis said, shaking his head, glancing at the door.

“What’s wrong with her?” Corny asked.

“She sees these boys all the time hanging around the park,” the woman told Corny. “They’re pretty but they’re trouble. Not human. One day they bother Lala and she insults them. Then this. Nothing in the
botánica
is helping.”

“You should both go wait in the other room,” Luis said, rolling up the sleeves of his coat. “This is about to get messy.”

“I’m good here,” Corny said, trying to seem unimpressed. He had several different fantasies of himself that he liked to trot out when he was feeling miserable. In one, he was the scary lunatic—the guy who was going to snap one day, get a high-powered rifle, and bury the bodies of all the people who’d wronged him, in a mass grave in the backyard. Then there was the misunderstood genius, the person whom everyone discounted but who triumphed in the end through his superior competence. And the most pathetic fantasy of all—that he had some secret mutant power he was always on the verge of discovering.

“I need her to lie down on the floor.” Luis walked over to the tiny kitchen and came back with a crude knife. The woman’s eyes never left the blade. “Cold iron.”

Luis actually had a secret power and was competent. That pissed Corny off. All he had was cursed hands.

“What’s that for?” Lala asked.

Luis shook his head. “I won’t cut you. I promise.”

The woman narrowed her eyes, but the girl seemed reassured and sank down onto the floor. The vines squirmed under her skin, rippling as they shifted. Lala winced and cried out.

Kaye looked up at Corny and raised her eyebrows.

Luis crouched over Lala, straddling her slender body.

“He knows what to do, yes?” the woman asked Corny.

Corny nodded. “Sure.”

Luis reached into his pocket and scattered a white substance—maybe salt—over the girl’s body. She bucked, screaming. The vines crawled like snakes.

“He’s hurting her!” Lala’s mother gasped.

Luis didn’t even glance up. He threw another handful, and Lala shrieked. Her skin stretched and rippled away from the salt, up into her neck, choking her.

Her mouth opened, but instead of a sound, thorn-covered branches burst out, winding toward Luis. He slashed at them with his knife. The iron cut through the vines easily, but more came, splitting and curling like tentacles, grabbing for him.

Corny yelled, pulling his legs up onto the couch. Kaye stared in horror. Lala’s mother’s cries had become one long teakettle scream.

One branch wrapped around Luis’s wrist, while others crawled toward his waist and writhed along the floor. The long thorns sank into his skin. Lala’s eyes rolled back in her head, and her body convulsed. Her lips shone with blood.

Luis dropped the knife and wrapped his hands around the stems, ripping the brambles even as they coiled around his hands.

Corny lunged forward, grabbing the knife and cutting at the thorns.

“No, you idiot,” Luis yelled. A knot of branches suddenly ripped free of Lala’s mouth, wormlike white roots sliding out of her throat, glistening with saliva. The great vine blackened and shriveled.

Lala started to cough. The woman knelt by her, weeping and smoothing back the girl’s hair.

Luis’s arms were striped with scratches. He stood up and looked away as if dazed.

Lala’s mother helped the girl to her feet and began to lead her toward the door.
“Gracias, gracias,”
she muttered.

“Wait,” Luis said. “I need to talk to your daughter for a minute. Without you.”

“I don’t want to,” Lala said.

The woman nodded. “Just quick. She’s very tired now.” She closed the door separating the hall from the room.

Luis looked at Lala. The girl swayed a little and caught herself by bracing her hand against the wall.

“What you told your mother,” he asked, “that’s not exactly what happened, is it?”

She hesitated, then shook her head.

“One of those boys gave you something to eat—maybe you just ate a little bit? Maybe just one seed?”

She nodded again, not meeting his eyes.

“But now you know better, right?” Luis asked her.

“Yes,” she whispered, then fled to join her mother. Luis watched her go. Corny watched him watch her.

“Your pixie talked to my brother, didn’t she?” he demanded, nodding to Kaye.

“What do you think?” Corny replied.

Luis yawned. “I think we’re out of here as soon as possible. I’ll show you where to sleep.”

Corny arranged himself on the floor of mattresses spread out over what might have once been a dining room. Dave had already rolled himself into a shroud of blankets against the far wall, beneath what was left of a chair rail. Kaye staggered in from the parlor, curled herself around a throw pillow, and fell immediately into sleep. Luis lay down nearby.

Flexing his fingers, Corny watched the rubber tighten over his knuckles. Already the sheen had gone off the gloves. They might be brittle by morning. Carefully, he slid out one hand and touched the edge of Luis’s duvet. The thin fabric tore, threads fraying, bleeding feathers. He watched them blow in the slight draft from the window, dusting everything like snow.

Luis turned in his sleep and feathers caught in his braids. One settled at the very corner of Luis’s mouth, fluttering with each breath. It seemed like it would tickle. Corny wanted to brush it out of the way. His fingers twitched.

Luis’s eyes slitted. “What are you looking at?”

“You drooling,” Corny lied quickly. “It’s disgusting.”

Luis grunted and rolled over.

Corny pulled his glove back on, heart beating so hard that he felt light-headed.

I like him,
he thought in horror, the unfairness of that on top of everything else filling him with unfocused rage.
Shit. I like him.

Kaye woke to sunlight streaming through large windows. Corny was sprawled beside her, snoring slightly. Somehow he had stolen all her blankets. Both Dave and Luis were gone.

Her mouth tasted stale, and she was so thirsty that she didn’t think about where she was or why she was there until she went into the bathroom and gulped down several handfuls of water. It tasted of iron. Iron seemed to be everywhere, bubbling up from the pipes and sifting down from the ceiling.

Padding across the cold floors to try to find something to eat, Kaye heard a strange noise, like a purse upended. The smells of mildew were more intense now and she could feel her glamour being worn away. She looked down at her hand, green as a leaf. Heading in the direction of the noise, she came to the scavenged-sofa room, where a fire blazed in the grate.

A middle-aged man with short curly hair and an overstuffed messenger bag stood near the windows. As Kaye walked in, the man started to speak. But instead of sounds, copper coins fell from his lips to clatter and roll on the worn wooden floorboards.

Luis put his hand on the man’s arm. “Did you do what I told you?” he asked, bending to pick up the pennies. “I know the metal tastes like blood, but you just got to do it.”

The man nodded and gestured wildly to his mouth.

“I told you, the cure was to eat your words. That means every single coin that came out of your mouth. You’re telling me you did that?”

This time the man hesitated.

“You spent some, didn’t you? Please, please tell me that you didn’t go to CoinStar or some stupid shit like that.”

“Ugh,” the man said, and pennies scattered.

“Go find the rest. It’s the only way you’re going to be cured.” Luis crossed his arms over his chest, lean muscles showing through the thin fabric of his T-shirt and along his bare arms. “And no more deals with the folk.”