The Lost Prince (The Iron Fey: Call of the Forgotten 1)

An angry murmur went through the ranks of fey. “You cannot just walk into the palace and demand an audience with the queen, mortal,” the knight said, swelling indignantly. “Who are you, to demand such things, to speak as if you know her?” He leveled his sword at my throat before I could reply. “Surrender now, intruders. We will take you to the First Lieutenant. He will decide your fate.”

“Hold!” ordered a voice, and the knights straightened immediately. The ranks parted, and a faery came through, glaring at them. Instead of armor, he wore a uniform of black and gray, the silhouette of the same iron tree on his shoulder. His spiky black hair bristled like porcupine quills, and neon strands of lightning flickered and snapped between them.

As he came into the circle, he nodded to me in a genuine show of respect, before turning on the knight. Violet eyes glimmered as he stared him down. “What is the meaning of this?”

“First Lieutenant!” The knight jerked to attention as the rest of the knights did the same. “Sir! We have apprehended these two mortal intruders. They were on their way to the palace, saying they wished an audience with the Iron Queen. We thought it best if we brought them to you. The boy claims to know her—”

“Of course he does!” the faery snapped, scowling, and the knight paled. “I know who he is, though it is apparent that you do not.”

“Sir?”

“Stand down,” said the First Lieutenant, and raised his voice, addressing all the faeries watching this little spectacle. “All of you, stand down! Bow to your prince!”

Uh. What?

Chapter Thirteen

The Iron Prince

“Prince?”

I could feel Kenzie’s disbelieving stare as all the fey surrounding us, knights, civilians and guards alike, lowered their heads and bent at the waist or sank to their knees. Including the First Lieutenant, who put a fist over his heart as he bowed. I wanted to tell them all to stop, to not bother, but it was too late.

Oh, great. I can already hear the questions this is going to bring on.

“Prince Ethan,” the lieutenant said, straightening again. The knights sheathed their weapons, and a glare from a few of the armored fey quickly dispersed the crowd. “This is a surprise. Please excuse my guards. We were not expecting you. Are you here to see your sister?”

“Sister?” Kenzie echoed behind me, her voice climbing several octaves. I resisted the urge to groan.

“It’s…Glitch, right?” I asked, dragging the name up from memory. Glitch was something of a legend even in the real world, the rebel Iron faery who’d joined with Meghan in defeating the false king. I’d seen him once or twice in the past, hanging around the house like a worried bodyguard when Meghan came to visit. I didn’t mind his presence that much; it was another figure I hated, another faery who sometimes waited in the shadows for his queen to return, who never came into the house. He was a legend, too, even more so than Glitch, as one of the three who had taken down the false king and stopped the war. He was also the only normal fey (besides Grimalkin, apparently) who could survive in the Iron Realm. The rumors of how he’d accomplished such an impossible task were long and varied, but the reason behind it was always the same. Because he’d fallen in love with the Iron Queen and would do anything to be with her.

Including take her away from her family, I thought as the old, familiar anger spread through my chest. Including making sure she never leaves Faery. It’s because of you that she stayed, and it’s because of you that she’s gone. If you hadn’t shown up that night to take her back, she would still be in the real world.

But Glitch was still waiting for an answer and probably wouldn’t appreciate my feelings concerning his boss. “Yeah, I came to see Meghan,” I said, shrugging. “Sorry, we couldn’t call ahead of time. She probably doesn’t know I’m here.”

Glitch nodded. “I will inform her majesty right away. If you and your…friend—” the faery lieutenant glanced at Kenzie “—would come with me, I will take you to the Iron Queen.”

He gestured for us to follow, and we trailed him down the cobblestone paths as crowds of iron fey parted for us, bowing as we passed. The knights fell into rank behind us, their clanking echoing through the streets. I tried to ignore them and the way my stomach squirmed with every step that brought us closer to the palace and the Iron Queen.

“If you don’t mind my asking, sire,” Glitch continued, glancing back. His purple eyes regarded us with curious appraisal. “How did you cross over from the mortal world?”

“My doing,” purred another familiar voice, and Grimalkin appeared, walking along the edge of a stone wall. Glitch looked up and sighed.

“Hello again, cat,” he said, not sounding entirely pleased. “Why am I not surprised to see you involved? What have you been scheming lately?”

The cat very deliberately ignored that question, pretending to be occupied with the tiny glittering moths that flitted around the streetlamps. Glitch shook his head, making the lightning in his hair flicker, then stopped at a corner and raised an arm.

A horse and carriage pulled up, both looking decidedly mechanical, the horse’s body made of shifting copper gears and bright metal. The driver, green-skinned beneath his black-and-white coat, tipped his top hat at us. The clockwork dog sitting beside him thumped a wiry tail.

Grimalkin observed the carriage from atop the stone wall and wrinkled his nose.

“I believe I will find my own way to the palace,” he stated, blinking in a bored manner as he looked down at me. “Human, please attempt to stay out of trouble for the last leg of the journey. Mag Tuiredh is not that big a place to become lost in. Do not make me have to come find you again.”

Glitch’s spines bristled. “I will make sure the prince gets to the palace, cait sith,” he snapped, sounding indignant. “Any kin of the Iron Queen in Mag Tuiredh becomes my top priority. He will be perfectly safe here, I assure you.”

“Oh, well, if you say so, Lieutenant, then it must be true.” With a sniff, the cat disappeared, dropping off the wall and vanishing midleap.

Sighing, Glitch pulled open the door and nodded for us to get in. I climbed aboard, and Kenzie followed as the First Lieutenant helped her up the steps, then closed the door behind us.

“I will ride ahead and meet you at the palace,” he told us through the window, and stepped back to the curb. “The queen will be informed of your arrival right away. Welcome to Mag Tuiredh, Prince Ethan.”

He bowed once more, and the carriage started to move, taking his figure from sight. I stared out the window, watching the city of Mag Tuiredh scroll by, feeling Kenzie’s gaze piercing my back. I knew it wouldn’t be long before she started asking questions, and I was right.

“Prince?” she said softly, and I closed my eyes. “You’re the prince of this place? You never told me that.”

I sighed, turning to meet her bewildered, accusing gaze. “I didn’t think it was important.”

“Not important?” Kenzie’s eyes bugged, and she threw up her hands. “Ethan, you’re a freaking prince of Faeryland, and you didn’t think that was important?”

“I’m not a real prince,” I insisted. “It’s not like you think. I’m not part faery, I’m just…related to the queen.” Kenzie stared at me, waiting, and I stabbed my fingers through my hair. “The Iron Queen…” I sighed again and finally came out with it. “She’s my half sister, Meghan.”

Her mouth dropped open. “And you couldn’t have mentioned that earlier?”

“No, I didn’t want to talk about it!” I turned away to stare out the window again. Mag Tuiredh looked both bright and dark in the hazy light, a glittering realm of shadows and steam, stone and metal. “I haven’t seen Meghan in years,” I said in a quieter voice. “I don’t know what she’s like anymore. She told me to stay away from her, that she was cutting my whole family out of her life. Comes with being a faery queen, I guess.” I heard the bitterness in my voice and struggled to control it. “I didn’t want you to associate me with…Them,” I told Kenzie. “Not like that.”

Kenzie was quiet for a moment. Then, “So…when you were kidnapped, and your sister went into the Nevernever to rescue you…”

“Long story short, she became the Iron Queen, yeah.”

“And…you blame them for taking her away. That’s why you hate them.”

My throat felt suspiciously tight. I swallowed hard to open it. “No,” I growled, clenching my fist against the windowsill. “I blame her.”

* * *

The Iron Queen’s palace soared over the rest of the buildings in the city, a huge pointed structure of glass, stone and steel. Banners emblazoned with the great iron tree flapped in the wind, and the path to the front gate was lined with enormous oaks, forming a tunnel of branches, leaves and lights. It was the strangest castle I’d ever seen, not really ancient or completely modern but caught somewhere between the two. It had mossy stone turrets, crawling with vines, but also towers of shining glass and steel, catching the sunlight as they stabbed toward the sky. A pair of Iron knights bowed their heads as the carriage rolled through the gate into the courtyard, so apparently we were expected.

Past the gates, the road circled a massive green lawn strewn with metal trees, their leaves and branches glittering like tinsel as the light caught them. The stone walls of the castle rose up on either side, patrolled by more Iron knights. A small pond sat in the center of the courtyard, making me wonder what kind of fish swam beneath those waters. Iron goldfish, perhaps? Metallic turtles? I smirked at the thought.

Movement under one of the trees caught my attention. Two figures circled each other beneath the branches of a silver pine, a pair of swords held in front of them. One was easily recognizable as an Iron knight, his armor and huge broadsword gleaming as he bore down on his opponent.

The other combatant was smaller, slighter and not wearing any armor as he danced around the much larger knight. He looked about my age, with bright silver hair tied back in a ponytail and an elegant curved blade in his hand.

And he knew how to move. Long years of watching Guro Javier made me appreciate a skilled fighter when I saw one. This kid reminded me of him: flowing, agile, deadly accurate. The knight lunged at him, stabbing at his head. He stepped aside, disarmed the knight faster than thought and pointed the blade at his throat.

Damn. He might even be faster than me.

As the carriage clopped past the fighters, the boy raised a hand to his opponent and turned to watch us.

The eyes under his silver brows were far too bright, a piercing ice-blue that made my skin crawl. He was fey, and gentry, that much was certain. I didn’t need to see the tips of his pointed ears to know that. He watched me with a faint, puzzled smile, until the carriage took us around a bend in the road and he was lost from view.

We came to the steps of the palace and lurched to a halt. A tiny creature with a wrinkled face, carrying an enormous pile of junk on his hunched shoulders, stood waiting with a squad of knights as the carriage clanked and groaned and finally stilled.