The Lost Prince (32 page)

“Where are we?” I asked instead. “What is this place?”

Annwyl stopped at the base of a tree, fenced in by wooden railings and in full bloom despite the cool weather. “This,” she said, gazing up at the branches, “is Shakespeare’s Garden. The most famous human of our world. We come to this place to pay tribute to the great Bard, the mortal who opened people’s minds again to magic. Who made humans remember us once more.” She reached out to the tree and gently touched a withered leaf with her finger. The branch shuddered, and the leaf uncurled, green and alive again. “The fact that it’s empty now, that no one is here, is terrifying.”

I craned my neck to look up at the tree. It was empty, except for a lone black bird near the top branches, preening its feathers. Annwyl was right; it was strange that we hadn’t run into any fey, especially in a place like this. Central Park had everything they could ask for: art and imagination, huge swaths of nature, a never-ending source of glamour from all the humans who passed through. This place should be teeming with faeries.

“Aren’t there other places we could check?” Kenzie asked. “Other…faery hangouts?”

“Yes,” Annwyl said, but she didn’t sound confident. “There are other places. Sheep Meadow—”

“Sheep!” Razor buzzed.

“—Tavern on the Green and Strawberry Fields. But if we didn’t run into anyone by now, I doubt we’re going to have much luck.”

“Well, we can’t give up,” Kenzie insisted. “It’s a big park. There have to be other places we can—”

A cry shattered the silence then, causing us all to jerk up. It was faint, echoing over the trees, but a few seconds later it came again, desperate and terrified.

Keirran drew his sword. “Come on!”

We charged back down the path, following the echo of the scream, hoping we were going in the right direction. As we left Shakespeare’s Garden, the path split before us, and I paused a second, panting and looking around. I could just see the top of the theater off to the left, but directly ahead of us…

“Is that…a castle?” I asked, staring at the stone towers rising over the trees.

“Belvedere Castle,” Annwyl said, coming up behind me. “Not really a castle, either. More of an observatory and sightseeing spot.”

“Is that why it’s so small?”

“Look!” Kenzie gasped, grabbing my arm and pointing to the towers.

Ghostly figures, white and pale in the moonlight, swarmed the top of the stone castle, crawling over its walls like ants. Another scream rang out, and a small, dark figure appeared in the midst of the swarm, scrambling for the top of the tower.

“Hurry!” Keirran ordered and took off, the rest of us close behind.

Reaching the base of the castle steps, I whirled, stopping Kenzie from following me up. “Stay here,” I told her, as she took a breath to protest. “Kenzie, you can’t go charging up there! There’re too many of them, and you don’t have anything to fight with.”

“Screw that,” Kenzie retorted, and grabbed a rattan stick from my hand. “I do now!”

“Ethan,” Keirran called before I could argue. The faery prince stood a few steps up, glaring at the top of the staircase. “They’re coming!”

Ghostly fey swarmed over the walls and hurled themselves down the steps toward us. They were small faeries, gnome-or goblin-sized, but their hands were huge, twice as big as mine. As they drew closer, I saw that they had no mouths, just two giant, bulging eyes and a pair of slits for a nose. They dropped from the walls, crawling down like lizards or spiders, and flowed silently down the steps toward us.

At the head of our group, Keirran raised his hand, eyes half-closed in concentration. For a second, the air around him turned cold, and then he swept his arm down toward the approaching fey. Ice shards flew before him in a vicious arc, ripping into the swarm like an explosion of shrapnel. Wide-eyed, several of them jerked, twisted into fog and disappeared.

Damn. Where have I seen
that
before?

Brandishing his weapon, Keirran charged up the steps with me close behind him. The evil, mouthless gnomes scuttled toward us, eyes hard and furious, raising their hands as they lunged. One of them clawed at my arm as I jerked back. Its palm opened up—or rather, a gaping, tooth-lined mouth opened up on its palm, hissing and chomping as it snatched for me.

“Aagh!” I yelped, kicking the gnome away. “That is not cool! Keirran!”

“I saw.” Keirran’s sword flashed, and an arm went hurtling away, mouth shrieking. The ghostly fey pressed in, raising their horrible hands. Surrounded by tiny, gnashing teeth, Keirran stood his ground, cutting at any faery that got too close. “Are the others all right?” he panted without looking back.

I spared a split-second glance at Kenzie and Annwyl. Keirran and I were blocking the lower half of the steps, so the gnomes were focused on us, but Kenzie stood in front of Annwyl, her rattan stick raised to defend the Summer girl if needed.

I almost missed the gnome that ducked through Keirran’s guard and leaped at me, both hands aiming for my throat. I stumbled back, raising my stick, but a vine suddenly whipped over the stair rail and coiled around the faery in midair, hurling it away. I looked back and saw Annwyl, one hand outstretched, the plants around her writhing angrily. I nodded my thanks and lunged forward to join Keirran.

Gradually, we fought our way up the steps until we reached the open courtyard at the base of the towers. The ugly gnomes fell back, swiping at us with their toothy hands as we pressed forward. One managed to latch onto my belt; I felt the razor-sharp teeth slice through the leather as easily as paper before I smashed the hilt of my weapon into its head with a curse. We fought our way across the deck, battling gnomes that swarmed us from all directions, until we stood in the shadow of the miniature castle itself. Kenzie and Annwyl hung back near the top of the steps, Annwyl using Summer magic to choke and entangle her opponents, while Kenzie whapped them with her stick once they were trapped.

But more kept coming, scaling the walls, rushing us with arms raised. A cry behind us made me look back. Several gnomes stood in a loose circle around Kenzie and Annwyl. They weren’t attacking, but the faery’s hands were stretched toward the Summer girl, the horrible mouths opened wide. Annwyl had fallen to her hands and knees, her slender form fraying around the edges as if she was made of mist and the wind was blowing her away. Kenzie rushed forward and swung at one gnome, striking it in the shoulder. It turned with a hiss and grabbed the stick in both hands. There was a splintering crack, and the rattan shredded, breaking apart, as the faery’s teeth made short work of the wood.

“Annwyl!” Keirran turned back, rushing forward to defend the Summer girl and Kenzie, and in that moment of distraction a wrinkled, gnarled hand landed on my arm. Jagged teeth sank into my wrist, and I cried out, shaking my arm to dislodge it, but the thing clung to me like a leech, biting and chewing. Gritting my teeth, I slammed my arm into the wall several times, ignoring the burst of agony with every hit, and the gnome finally dropped away.

The gnomes pressed forward, sensing blood. My wrist and forearm were soaked red and felt as if I’d just stuck my arm into a meat grinder. As I staggered back, half-blind with pain, a big raven swooped down and landed on the wall across from me. And, maybe it was the delirium from the pain and loss of blood, but I was almost sure it winked.

There was a burst of cold from Keirran’s direction, and the bird took off. Several shrieks of pain showed the Iron prince was taking revenge for the Summer faery, but that didn’t really help me, backed against a wall, dripping blood all over the flagstones. I braced myself as the swarm tensed to attack.

“You really do meet the strangest people in New York,” called a new voice somewhere overhead.

I looked up. A lean figure stood atop one of the towers, arms crossed, gazing down with a smirk. He shook his head, dislodging several feathers from his crimson hair, giving me a split-second glance of his pointed ears.

“For example,” he continued, still grinning widely, “you look
exactly
like the brother of a good friend of mine. I mean, what are the odds? Of course, he’s supposed to be safely home in Louisiana, so I have no idea what he’s doing in New York City. Oh, well.”

The gnomes whirled, hissing and confused, looking from me to the intruder and back again. Sensing he was the bigger threat, they started edging toward the tower, raising their hands to snarl at him.

“Huh, that’s kinda disturbing. I bet none of you have pets, do you?”

A dagger came flying through the air from his direction, striking a gnome as it rushed forward, turning it into mist. A second later, the stranger landed next to me, still grinning, pulling a second dagger from his belt. “Hey there, Ethan Chase,” he said, looking as smug and irreverent as I remembered. “Fancy meeting you here.”

The pack lifted their arms again, mouths opening, and I felt that strange, sluggish pull. The faery beside me snorted. “I don’t think so,” he scoffed, and lunged into their midst.

Pushing myself off the wall, I started to follow, but he really didn’t need much help. Even with the gnomes sucking away at his glamour, he danced and whirled among them with no problem, his dagger cutting a misty path through their ranks. “Oy, human, go help your friends!” he called, dodging as a piranha-gnome leaped at him. “I can finish up here!”

I nodded and ran to the foot of the stairs where Keirran had drawn back, placing himself between the gnomes, Annwyl and Kenzie, his eyes flashing as he dared anything to come close. Annwyl slumped against the ground, and Kenzie stood protectively beside her, still holding one half of the broken rattan
.
A few gnomes surrounded them, arms outstretched and glaring at Keirran; one was doubled over a few feet away as if sick.

Leaping from the stairs, I dropped behind one of the faeries with a yell, bringing my stick crashing down on its skull. It dropped like a stone, fading into nothing, and I quickly stepped to the side, kicking another in the head, flinging it away.

Hissing, the rest of the pack scattered. Screeching and jabbering through their nasty hand-mouths, they scuttled into the bushes and up the walls, leaving us alone at the foot of the stairs.

Panting, I looked toward the others. “Everyone okay?”

Keirran wasn’t listening. As soon as the gnomes had gone, he sheathed his weapon and immediately turned to Annwyl, dropping down beside her. I heard them talking in low murmurs, Keirran’s worried voice asking if she was all right, the Summer girl insisting she was fine. I sighed and turned to Kenzie; they would probably be unreachable for a while.

Kenzie approached sheepishly, one half of the broken rattan in her hand. “Sorry,” she said, holding up the ruined weapon with a helpless gesture. “It…uh…died a noble death. I can only hope it gave that thing a wicked tongue splinter.”

I took the broken stick from her hand, tossed it into the bushes, and drew her into a brief, one-armed hug.

“Better the stick than you,” I muttered, feeling her heart speed up, her arms circling my waist to cling to me. “Are you all right?”

She nodded. “They were doing something to Annwyl when Keirran came leaping in. He killed several, but they backed off and started doing that creepy thing with their hands, and Annwyl…” She shivered, looking back at the Summer faery in concern. “It was a good thing you came and chased them off. Annwyl wasn’t looking so good…and you’re bleeding again!”

“Yeah.” I gritted my teeth as she stepped away and gently took my arm. “One of them mistook my arm for the stick. Ow!” I flinched as she drew back the torn sleeve, revealing a mess of blood and sliced skin. “You can thank Keirran for this,” I muttered as Kenzie gave me a horrified, apologetic look. “He went swooping in to rescue his girlfriend and left me alone with a half dozen piranha fey.”

And speaking of swooping…

“Hey,” came a familiar, slightly annoyed voice from the top of the stairs, “not to rain on your little reunion or anything, but did you forget something back there? Like, oh, I don’t know…me?”

I heard a gasp from Annwyl as the redheaded faery came sauntering down the steps, lips pulled into a smirk.

“Remember me?” he said, hopping down the last step to face us, still grinning. Kenzie eyed him curiously, but he looked past her to Keirran and Annwyl. “Oh, hey, and the princeling is here, too! Small world! And what, may I ask, are you doing way out here with the queen’s brother?”

“What are
you
doing here?” I growled, as Keirran and Annwyl finally joined us. Keirran had on a wide, relieved smile, and the other faery grinned back at him; obviously they knew each other. Annwyl, on the other hand, looked faintly star-struck. I guess you couldn’t blame her, considering who this was.

“Me?” The faery laced his hands behind his skull. “I was supposed to meet a certain obnoxious furball near Shakespeare’s Garden, but then I heard a racket so I decided to investigate.” He shook his head, giving me a bemused look. “Jeez, you’re just as much trouble as your sister, you know that? It must run in the family.”

“Um, excuse me,” Kenzie put in, and we stared at her. “Sorry,” she continued, looking around at each of us, “but do you all know each other? And if you do, would you mind letting me in on the secret?”

The Great Prankster grinned at me. “You wanna tell her? Or should I?”

I ignored him. “Kenzie,” I sighed, “this is Robin Goodfellow, a friend of my sister’s.” Her eyes went wide, and I nodded. “You might know him better as—”

“Puck,” she finished for me in a whisper. She was staring at him now, awe and amazement written across her face. “Puck, like from
A Midsummer Night’s Dream?
Love potions and Nick Bottom and donkey heads? That Puck?”

“The one and only.” Puck grinned. Pulling a green hankie from his pocket, he wadded it up and tossed it in my direction. I caught it with my good hand. “Here. Looks like those things chewed on you pretty good. Wrap that up, and then someone can tell me what the heck is going on here.”

“That’s what we were trying to figure out,” Keirran explained, as Kenzie took the handkerchief and started wrapping my mangled wrist. The slashes weren’t deep, but they were extremely painful. Damn piranha-faery. I clenched my teeth and endured, as Keirran went on. “Leanansidhe sent us here to see what was happening with the exiles and half-breeds. We were trying to find them when you showed up.”