Ironside (9 page)

Corny shivered on the steps of the apartment building. The cold of the cement soaked up through the thin fabric of his jeans as flurries of snow froze in his hair. The hot coffee he had bought at the bodega tasted like ashes, but he grimaced through another sip for the warmth. He tried not to notice that thin hairline cracks had already begun to form at the very tips of his rubber gloves.

He didn’t want to think too carefully about the relief he’d felt when Kaye couldn’t remove the curse. He’d felt diseased at first, like it was him rotting away and not the things he touched. But it wasn’t him withering. Only everything else. He imagined all the things he hated, all the things he could destroy, and found his grip on the cup so tight that the cardboard bent and coffee splashed his leg.

Kaye pushed though the front door with enough force to nearly send it crashing against the side of the building. Lutie fluttered alongside her, darting out into the safety of the air.

Corny stood up reflexively.

Kaye paced back and forth on the steps. “She pretty much hates me. I guess I should have pretty much expected that.”

“Well, then I’m not bringing her a soda,” Corny said, popping the tab and taking a swig. He made a face. “Ugh. Diet.”

Kaye didn’t even smile. She wrapped her purple coat around herself. “I’m going to get back the other Kaye for her. I’m going to switch us back.”

“But…Kaye.” Corny struggled to find the words. “You’re her daughter, and that other kid…she doesn’t even know Ellen. Ellen doesn’t know her.”

“Sure,” Kaye said hollowly. “It might be awkward at first, but they’ll work it out.”

“It’s not that simple—,” Corny started.

Kaye cut him off. “It
is
that simple. I’m going to call the number on that piece of paper and go see the Queen. If she wants something from me, then I have a chance of getting the other Kaye back.”

“Sure. I bet she’d trade Chibi-Kaye for your head on a platter,” Corny said, frowning.

“
Chibi
-Kaye?” Kaye looked as if she didn’t know whether to laugh or hit him.

He shrugged. “You know, like in those mangas where they draw the cute, small version of a character.”

“I know what a chibi is!” She dug around in her pocket. “Give me your cell phone for a second.”

He looked at her evenly. “You know I’m coming with you, right?”

“I don’t—,” Kaye started.

“I can handle it,” Corny said before she could finish. “Just because this is dumb doesn’t mean you get to do it alone. And I don’t need your protection.”

“And I don’t want to screw up your life more than I already have!”

“Look,” Corny said. “Before, you mentioned that maybe this Fixer guy would know something about my curse. We would have called this person and I would have gone with you anyway.”

“Fine, okay, okay. Cell?”

“Let me call,” Corny said, holding out his hand.

Kaye sighed, seeming to deflate. She held out the paper. “Fine.”

Corny punched in the number, although it took a few tries with the thick gloves. The phone rang once and a computer voice said,
“Hit pound and dial your number.”

“Pager,” he said to Kaye’s questioning look. “Yeah, your guide to the Seelie Court is totally a dealer.”

Lutie settled on Kaye’s shoulder and grabbed a clump of green hair, wrapping it around her tiny body like a cloak. “Bitter coldy cold,” she said.

“Let’s head toward your car. Maybe by the time we get there, he’ll call back.”

Corny jumped off the steps. “Otherwise, we can sleep in the back covered in fast-food garbage like the brother and sister in ‘Babes in the Wood’ who got—”

“Lutie,” Kaye said, interrupting him. “You can’t come. You have to watch over my mom. Please. Just to make sure that she’s okay.”

“But it smells and I’m bored.”

“Lutie, please. Where we’re going—it could be dangerous.”

The little faery flew up, wings and clotted cream hair making her seem like a tossed handful of snow. “I’m half sick of iron, but I will stay. For you. For you.” She pointed one toothpick-tiny finger down at Kaye as she rose toward the apartment window.

“We’ll come for you as soon as we can,” Corny called, but he was relieved. Sometimes it was tiring trying not to stare at her delicate hands or her miniature bird-black eyes. There was nothing human about her.

As they crossed the street, Corny’s phone rang. He flipped it open. “Hey.”

“What you want?” It was a young man’s voice, soft and angry. “Who gave you this number?”

“I’m sorry. Maybe I dialed wrong.” He made wide eyes at Kaye. “We’re looking for a…the…the Fixer.”

The line went quiet, and Corny winced at how lame he sounded.

“You still haven’t told me what you want,” the boy said.

“My friend got a note. Said you could help her see the Queen.”

“Okay.”

“So, wait, you are the Fixer?” Corny said, and smiled when Kaye looked over impatiently.

“Ask him about the curse,” Kaye said.

“Yeah, that’s me.” The boy’s tone made it hard for Corny to decide if he really meant it. “And yeah, I’m supposed to take a girl upstate. Tell her to come over here in the morning and we can go. You got paper?”

“Hold on.” Corny fumbled for something to write with. Kaye reached into her pockets and came up with a pen. When she held it out, he took it and her arm. “Okay, go.”

The boy gave them his address. Riverside Drive on the Upper West Side. Corny wrote it on Kaye’s skin.

“I want to leave now,” Kaye said. “Tell him. Tonight.”

“She wants to leave tonight,” Corny repeated into the phone.

“Is that girl crazy?” the boy asked. “It’s two in the morning.”

Kaye pulled the phone out of Corny’s hands. “We just need directions.”

“Uh-huh,” she said. “Okay.” She hung up. “He wants us to head over to the address he gave you.”

He forced himself not to roll his eyes.

Corny parked in front of a metered spot, figuring he could move the car later. Out beyond the park, the river glistened, reflecting the lights of the city. Kaye took a deep breath as she stepped out, and he saw human color cover her green cheeks.

They walked back and forth on the street, checking numbers until they came to a short building with a glossy black door.

“This isn’t really the place, is it?” Corny asked. “It’s kind of really nice. Too nice.”

“The address is right.” Kaye held up her arm to show him what he’d written.

A woman with red-rimmed eyes and frizzy hair stepped out onto the landing, letting the door swing behind her. Corny stepped out of the way and caught it before it slammed closed. As she walked down the steps, he thought he saw a swaddled-up bundle of twigs in her arms.

Kaye’s gaze followed the bundle.

“Maybe we should think more about this,” Corny said.

Kaye pressed the buzzer.

After a few moments, a dark-skinned boy with his hair in thick herringbone cornrows opened the door. One of his eyes was cloudy, the lower part of the pupil obscured by a milky haze. Metal studs threaded through his eyebrow, and a stretch of pale scar tissue on his lower lip seemed to indicate that a ring had once been ripped loose from his mouth, although a new one gleamed next to the scar.

“You’re in with the Seelie Court?” Corny asked, incredulous.

The boy shook his head. “I’m as human as you. Now, her, on the other hand.” He looked at Kaye. “The Queen never said nothing about a pixie. I don’t let folk in my house.”

Corny looked over at Kaye. To him, she seemed glamoured, her wings gone, her skin pink, and her eyes a perfectly average brown. He looked back at the boy in the doorway.

“So what exactly
did
she say?” Kaye asked. “Silarial.”

“Her messenger told me that you were a little jumpy around faeries,” the boy said, looking at Corny. “That you might feel more comfortable with me.”

Kaye poked Corny in the side and he rolled his eyes. Jumpy wasn’t exactly how he wanted to be thought of.

“I was supposed to tell you that the Lady Silarial invites you to visit her court.” The boy turned his lip ring idly. “She wants you to consider your part in the coming war.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Corny said. “Let’s get out of here.”

“No,” Kaye said. “Wait.”

“She anticipated your hesitation.” The boy smiled.

Corny interrupted him. “Let me guess. For a limited time only the Queen offers a free magazine subscription with each forced march to Faerieland. You can choose between
Nearly Naked Nixies
and
Kelpie Quarterly
.”

The boy let out a surprised laugh. “Sure. But not just the magazine. She’s also offering both of you her protection for the duration of the trip. There and back again.”

Corny wondered if it were possible that this guy had just made a Tolkien reference. He really didn’t look like the type.

Kaye squinted. “I’ve seen you before. In the Night Court.”

The smile dropped from the boy’s face. “I was only there once.”

“With a girl,” Kaye said. “She dueled one of Roiben’s people. You probably don’t remember me.”

“You’re from the Night Court?” the boy demanded. His glance went to Corny and his eyes narrowed.

Corny reminded himself he didn’t care what this guy thought of either one of them.

Kaye shrugged. “More or less.”

The boy sucked on his teeth. “Not such a nice place.”

“And the Bright Court is full of sugar and spice and everything nice?” Kaye asked him.

“Point.” The boy slid his hands into the pockets of his oversize coat. “Look, the Lady wants me to take you to her, and I don’t have much choice about being her bitch, but you’ve still got to come back in the morning. I’ve got someone coming really early, and I’ve got to take care of him before I head out.”

“We can’t,” Corny said. “We don’t have anywhere to sleep.”

The boy looked at Kaye. “I can’t let her stay here. I do jobs for people—
human
people. They see some faery and her boy hanging around and think they can’t trust me.”

“So I guess they don’t know that you’re Silarial’s boy,” Corny said. “Then they’d know not to trust you.”

“I do what I have to do,” he said. “Not like you—a little Night Court lackey. Does it bother you when they torture humans, or do you like to watch?”

Corny shoved him, hard, the force of his rage surprising even him. “You don’t know anything about me.”

The boy laughed, short and sharp, stumbling back. Corny thought of his own hands, deadly inside thin gloves. He wanted to stop the boy’s laughing.

Kaye pushed between them. “So if I were to take off my glamour and sit here on your stoop, that would be a problem?”

“You wouldn’t do that. Your glamour protects you a lot more than it does me.”

“Does it?” Kaye asked.

A pixie. The boy had known right away, not just that Kaye was a faery, but the kind of faery she was. Corny thought about the little hob and what he’d said:
There is a boy with the True Sight. In the great city of exiles and iron to the north. He’s been breaking curses on mortals.
The boy had True Sight. He couldn’t tell if she was wearing glamour or not.

He turned to Kaye and widened his eyes slightly in what he hoped would seem like surprise. Then he turned back to the boy and smiled. “Looks like she meant it. Wow, I can never get used to her wings and green skin—so freaky-looking. I guess we’ll just be hanging out on your steps now. It’s not like we have anywhere else to go. But don’t worry—if anyone comes by looking for you, we’ll tell them you’ll be right out…as soon as you’re done helping a phooka find his keys.”

The boy frowned. Corny put his gloved hand on Kaye’s arm, willing her to play along. With a quick glance in his direction, she shrugged her narrow shoulders.

“At least you’ll know where to find us in the morning,” she said.

“Fine,” said the boy, holding up his hands. “Get in here.”

“Thanks,” Corny said. “This is Kaye, by the way. Not ‘the pixie’ or ‘my Night Court mistress’ or whatever, and I’m…” He paused. “Neil. Cornelius. People call me Neil.”

Kaye looked over at him, and for a terrible moment he thought she was going to laugh. He just didn’t want this boy calling him Corny.
Corny,
like he was King of the Dorks, like his very name announced how lame and tired and dull he was.

“I’m Luis,” the boy said, oblivious, opening the door. “And this is my squat.”

“You squat
here
?” Kaye asked. “On the Upper West Side?”

Inside, the plaster walls were cracked, and chunks of debris covered the scuffed wooden floors. Wet brown stains soaked the ceiling in rings, and a tangle of wires inside the framing were visible in one corner.

Corny’s breath clouded the air as though they were still outside. “More majestic than a trailer,” he said. “But also oddly shittier.”