The Iron Traitor (The Iron Fey) (8 page)

I hardened my feelings. No, this was necessary. The goblin market was dangerous, full of conniving fey that would trick you into giving them your own heart if they could. Not only that, now a faery assassin was skulking around, and I did not want that creepy Forgotten anywhere near my girlfriend. Kenzie had followed me into the Nevernever and ended up in the hospital. She was still gravely ill. This was for the best. Even if she disagreed, even if she hated me for it, I wanted her to be safe.

“No, I don’t want you to come.”

I heard her take a quick breath, as if holding back a sharp reply. “And all the plans we made?” she asked in an overly quiet voice. “Agreeing to meet in New Orleans? Looking for the market together? Me convincing my dad to take my whole family on vacation, just so I can find you there? That doesn’t mean anything to you.”

I could feel her anger through the phone line and knew I was on dangerous ground, but still stuck with my convictions. “Kenzie, you’re sick. You just got out of the hospital. If we go to the goblin market and something happens to you, your dad will kill me. It’s not that I don’t want to see you,” I went on, trying to be reasonable. “I’m just trying to keep you out of all this craziness. If you get hurt again, I’ll never forgive myself.” I paused, then added the final nail to my coffin. “I don’t want you following me this time. Stay with your family.”

“Please tell me you’re not doing this.” Her voice cracked a little, making me wince. “After everything I confessed, about borrowed time and my mom and wanting to live my life, please tell me you’re not going to ignore that like everyone else.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Fine.” Her words were stiff, cold and sent a fiery lance through my stomach. “If you don’t want me there, Ethan, fine.” A tiny sniffle echoed over the receiver, worse than if she had screamed or yelled or cussed me out. “I guess I was wrong about you. You are just like everyone else.”

“Kenzie...”

She hung up.

I lowered my arm, not knowing exactly what I felt, apart from pretty lousy right then. Wandering back to my room, I saw that Annwyl had fallen asleep on my bed, her hair spilling in waves over my pillow. Unable to relax, I sat in my computer chair and opened my laptop, but I didn’t do anything with it. I just sat there and stared vacantly at the screen, replaying Kenzie’s last words over and over, and wondering if I had just sabotaged what I had with her beyond repair.

CHAPTER NINE

THE SHADOW FORGOTTEN

Early the next morning, I woke up two minutes before 5:00 a.m. and instantly turned off the alarm set to buzz at the top of the hour. Stifling a groan, I threw back the cover and sat up, already dressed, stretching my stiff limbs. I’d gotten maybe a couple hours of sleep on the floor of my room, lying in my old sleeping bag, and my neck ached as I stood and looked around for Annwyl.

She was awake and standing at my window, gazing out into the early-morning dark. The brightness around her, that faint sunlit glow that was present even in the darkness, had faded a bit, and she looked small and fragile as she drew back from the glass with a shudder.

“He’s still out there,” she whispered.

“He’ll have to get past me,” I replied, reaching for my duffel bag, already packed and ready to go. Atop the bag lay my twin swords in their slightly curved leather sheaths, the hilts glimmering in the dim light. I picked up both and slipped them through my belt, letting the kali blades rest against either hip. Looping the bag over my shoulder, I glanced at the Summer faery, waiting by the bed. “Ready to go?”

She nodded.

“You’re certain you can make the drive up to New Orleans?” I gave the faery a serious look. “It’s not going to be very pleasant, Annwyl. We’ll be in my truck the whole way, nearly two hours.”

“I know.” Annwyl looked like someone getting ready to march out to the gallows. “But we have to do this. I don’t know of any local trods to New Orleans, and I don’t dare go back to Leanansidhe’s. I can endure two hours of iron sickness if it gets us closer to Keirran.”

The desperate hope in her voice made my stomach tighten. Turning away, I opened the bedroom door a crack and peered into the hallway. The rest of the house was dark; both parents were still sleeping. Guilt and fear raised goose bumps on my skin; I didn’t want to do this, but I didn’t have much of a choice. I couldn’t let Dad drive me to New Orleans. He didn’t understand the fey, and I refused to drag my family into the hidden world. This was something I had to do myself.

I glanced over my shoulder at Annwyl. “Stay close,” I warned in a whisper. “It’ll be most dangerous when we go outside. Creepy Thin Man shouldn’t be able to get past the wards, and once we’re in the truck, we should be safe. Still, let’s do this quickly and quietly.”

“I’m ready,” Annwyl whispered, and we stepped into the hall.

Tiptoeing through the silent house, I paused in the kitchen just long enough to grab a soda and leave a quick note on the counter.

Mom, Dad, I’ve gone ahead to New Orleans. I’m sorry, but I have to do this alone. Will call you this afternoon from the hotel. Please don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. Back in a couple days.

—Ethan

They would be pissed at me for certain, and I’d probably get an angry phone call from Mom as soon as she found the note, but I couldn’t wait. Annwyl needed help, and I didn’t trust Creepy Thin Man to stay on the other side of the wards. Even if he did, I certainly didn’t want him hanging around my house, watching us, waiting for someone to step outside.

Outside.

The front door creaked softly as I eased it open, peering around the front lawn and my old truck parked in the driveway. Annwyl pressed close behind me, her warmth and the smell of new leaves at my back.

“I don’t see him,” she whispered.

I didn’t, either, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t watching us. “Hurry,” I growled and slipped onto the steps, jogging lightly down the walk toward the driveway. Annwyl followed, making absolutely no sound, as graceful as a deer bounding through the trees.

And then he was there at the end of the driveway,
turning
suddenly into existence, pale eye gleaming with wicked intent. Annwyl gasped, and I snarled a curse, drawing my sword in one smooth motion. He didn’t step forward, couldn’t cross the driveway, but his mouth opened impossibly wide, like a snake unhinging its jaws, revealing a gaping black hole within. I felt a faint pull in the air, a cold, sluggish feeling in my limbs, and my heart shrank with fear. Not for me; I’d felt this before and knew it couldn’t hurt mortals. But Annwyl stumbled like she was fighting a sudden typhoon, falling to her knees on the pavement. She flickered, nearly blinking out of existence, as the thin Forgotten sucked away her glamour, magic and everything she was.

Snarling, I leaped across the driveway and slashed at the Thin Man, stabbing my blade toward his wizened chest. He darted backward shockingly fast and
turned
again, vanishing from sight.

Panting, I raised my sword and glanced around. I’d always been able to see the fey; that this sneaky bastard could get around my Sight made me nervous and a little angry.

“Ethan!” cried Annwyl somewhere behind me, “to your left!”

I spun, lashing out with my blade, just as a long arm appeared out of nothing, reaching for me. I felt fingers catch my duffel bag with a tearing sound and slashed the empty air beneath the arm, feeling the very tip of my blade strike something solid. A pale ribbon of blood coiled through the air like mist, followed by a thin wail.

I ran back to Annwyl, pulling her upright as a light came on in my parent’s bedroom. Biting down curses, I half carried the Summer faery over to my truck, wrenched the door open and pushed her into the cab. Slamming the door, I turned to see the Thin Man in the center of the road, silvery blood writhing into the air from a gash in his side. He was no longer smiling.

“You cannot hide from me, Ethan Chase,” he called as I hurried to the driver’s side of the truck. “No matter where you take the Summer girl, no matter how far you run, I will find you both.”

I ignored him as I tossed my bag onto the floor and leaped behind the wheel, slamming the door behind me. Annwyl was hunched on the seat with her eyes closed, leaning away from the door, but I couldn’t worry about her now. Jamming the key into the ignition, I cranked the truck to life as another light gleamed in the windows of my house—the kitchen this time. Throwing the truck into Reverse, I backed out of the driveway, hoping to hit Creepy Thin Man with a few tons of iron and steel as I did. Sadly, that didn’t happen, but nothing attacked us as I yanked the shaft into Drive, hit the gas pedal and sped off down the street.

* * *

“Well,” Annwyl said after a moment of letting our heartbeats return to normal, “that was...exciting.”

I glanced at her. She sat as far as she could get from the door of the cab, arms around her stomach, leaning forward. Her jaw was set, her moss-green eyes slightly glazed. She looked like she was experiencing the world’s worst hangover and was about to hurl all over the floor of my truck.

“Annwyl,” I said urgently. “Can you do this? Will you be all right?”

The Summer faery gave a tight, painful nod. “It’s been a long time since I’ve experienced the iron sickness,” she murmured, not looking up. “I’d forgotten...how unpleasant it is.” She sat up carefully, as if checking to see whether she was all there. “I’m all right,” she breathed, as though trying to convince herself. “I’m not gone yet.”

Two minutes later, my phone rang. I dug it out of my pocket, checking the number, and my stomach dropped.

“You’re in big trouble, young man” was Dad’s greeting when I answered. I winced.

“Yeah, I figured.”

“Care to tell me what was so important that you had to lie to me last night?”

I sneaked another glance at Annwyl. She gazed back apologetically, as if she knew who was on the line and what we were talking about. I thought of the Thin Man, skulking around the yard, and how Mom would react if I told her what had happened. “No,” I said, feeling Dad’s disapproval all the way from the house. “But I’ll explain everything when I get home.”

“Ethan!” Mom’s voice crackled in my ear; it sounded like she had been crying. “Come home, do you hear me? Come back right now.”

A lump caught in my throat. “I can’t,” I whispered. “I’m sorry. I’ll be back in a couple days, I promise.”

No answer, just a muffled sob, and then Dad took over again. “Call us as soon as you get to New Orleans,” he ordered, his voice stern and controlled, trying to mask his anger. “And every few hours after that, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You be careful out there, Ethan.” Almost a warning. I swallowed hard.

“I will.”

I pressed End Call and lowered the phone, wishing it didn’t have to be this way. I almost regretted telling them the truth, but no, it was better that they finally realize what I had to deal with. At least this way they would know what had happened to me...if I never came home.

The drive to New Orleans was mostly silent. Annwyl huddled in the passenger seat and gazed out the side window, her eyes glassy with discomfort and pain. I flipped on the radio and searched until I found a classical music station, trying to make the ride more bearable for her. Every so often, she would flicker and blur from the corner of my eye, making my skin crawl and my head snap over to make sure she was still there.

We took a break at a rest stop, and I followed her to a stand of trees, watching in concern as she pressed her forehead to the trunk, breathing hard.

“You gonna be okay?” I asked again, just to get her talking, to hear her voice. The farther we went, the more it felt like I was sitting next to a ghost, slowing dissolving in the sunlight.

Annwyl nodded. “Yes,” she whispered, looking back with a brave smile. “I can make it. I’ll be all right. How far is it to...to...” Her forehead creased. “Where are we going again?”

I ignored the stab of fear. “New Orleans,” I replied. “The goblin market.”

“That’s right.” Annwyl leaned a shoulder against the tree, where strands of bright green ivy were slowly creeping up toward the branches, rustling softly as they coiled around the trunk. I swallowed and hoped no one would look this way. “Keirran,” Annwyl mused, her quiet voice colored with longing. “Will he be there?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I hope so. We’re really just grasping at straws, and I still have to find where this month’s goblin market is being held.” Luckily, I had a pretty good idea of who to ask for that information. The local dryads of City Park were rumored to be some of the oldest faeries in New Orleans and knew almost all there was to know about the city’s secret life. I just hoped the price for that information wasn’t too high.

“The full moon is tonight,” I went on as Annwyl absently brushed a dead branch. It came to life again beneath her fingers. “Once we find out where the market is, we’ll head over and have a look around. Even if Keirran doesn’t show up, there has to be someone there who might know where he is and where he’ll be.”

Annwyl nodded again. “I hope so,” she whispered. “I don’t know how long I have left.”

The sense of foreboding grew. “Come on,” I said, starting back toward my truck. “I’ll tell you the whole story on the road. But we should get going.”
And let’s hope that when we find Keirran, Annwyl will still know who he is and why she wants to see him.

* * *

It was still morning when we cruised past the New Orleans city limits and into the urban sprawl of one of the most heavily populated faery cities in the human world. New Orleans was a place of voodoo and magic, mystery and superstition, and it drew countless fey to its haunted corners and near-mythical streets. I’d never been to New Orleans before; it was in the top five of my Places to Avoid Due to Faeries list. Of course the irony that, not only was I here, I was here looking for the biggest goblin market in the country, a place where thousands of fey would converge to bargain and make deals, wasn’t lost on me.

The highway went right through City Park, and I had Annwyl read me the directions I’d copied from MapQuest, until we finally pulled into a near-empty lot at the edge of the lawn. It was quiet when I got out of the truck, the serene stillness of early morning, and almost no one else was out. As we entered the park, a woman and a frizzy terrier jogged past us down the sidewalk, and the dog took a moment to yap hysterically at Annwyl, much to the woman’s embarrassment. Apologizing to me and scolding the dog at the same time, she pulled it away around a bend, and then we were alone.

“I like it here,” Annwyl mused, gazing around the park in quiet awe. Since leaving the truck, she looked better, not quite as pale and insubstantial. “I can breathe more easily—my mind doesn’t feel like it’s in a fog. Magic is still strong here.”

“Yeah.” I couldn’t feel the magic and glamour in the air, not like she could, but I could certainly See the evidence all around us. A piskie buzzed by my head like a mutant wasp, leaving high-pitched laughter in its wake. An undine, pale blue and piranha-toothed, glanced up from the edge of a pond before sliding noiselessly into the water. A huge black dog glided through a patch of mist between trees, looking like someone’s pet that had slipped its collar—until you saw its eyes glowing with blue fire and noticed that it walked
on top
of the grass instead of crushing the blades beneath its paws. It blinked solemnly and trotted into the mist again, leaving behind no evidence that it had been there at all.

I suddenly wished I hadn’t left my kali blades under the seat of my truck, hidden and locked away. Wandering around a public park with a pair of swords was risky and could get me into real trouble, but if we were jumped by a redcap motley or a hungry Nevernever beast, I would almost rather take the chance.

Thankfully, the park fey seemed indifferent to us as we made our way toward a cluster of massive oak trees in the center of the lawn. Huge and gnarled and draped in Spanish moss, the ancient trees were home to several dryads who inhabited the park. At one point, the park had also been home to the Elder Dryad, a very old tree spirit who had helped Meghan defeat the Iron King more than thirteen years ago. Over the years, I’d heard enough snippets of this very popular legend among the fey to piece together what had happened. When I was kidnapped by the Iron fey and taken into the Nevernever, Meghan had come here to ask for help in defeating the supposedly invincible Iron King. The Elder Dryad had given my sister something called a Witchwood arrow, a splinter of pure Summer magic that was like kryptonite to the Iron fey. But the Witchwood was also the heart of the Elder Dryad’s oak, and giving it to Meghan essentially killed the tree and the dryad it was attached to.