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

“So,” she mused after a moment, “is it ‘down the hatch’ right now and, poof, I’ll be able to see the fey? Is that how this works?”

“Not yet,” Annwyl said solemnly. “There is a ritual involved. To gain the Sight, you must stand in the middle of a faery ring at midnight, spill a few drops of your blood onto the ground, and then drink that. The Veil will lift, and you’ll be able to see the Hidden World for the rest of your life.”

“Doesn’t sound too hard.” Kenzie gave the vial a small shake, dislodging a few black specks that swirled around the glass. “What’s in here, anyway?”

Keirran smiled. “Probably best you don’t know,” he warned. “In any case, Leanansidhe has a trod that will take us to a faery ring. There’s a catch, though. When the full moon shines down on a faery ring, the local fey can’t resist. We’ll probably run into a few of them, dancing under the moonlight. You know, like they do.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing I’ll have you two around to protect me.” She glanced my way, a shadow of uncertainty crossing her face. “You’ll be there, right?”

“Yeah.” I gave her a resigned look. I’d say what a stupid idea this is, but you won’t listen to me. I only hope the cost will be worth it.

“So,” I muttered, looking at Keirran, “where is this faery ring?”

He grinned, reminding me suddenly of Meghan, and my stomach clenched. “Not far by trod, but probably farther than you’ve ever been,” he said mysteriously. “This particular ring is several thousand years old, which is vital to the ritual tonight—the older the ring, the more power it holds. It’s somewhere deep in the moors of Ireland.”

Kenzie’s head jerked up, her eyes brightening. “Ireland?”

“Yay!” Razor crowed, bouncing up and down on his shoulder. “Sheep!”

Chapter Seventeen

The Faery Ring

“Better hurry, darlings,” Leanansidhe announced, walking into the dining room with a swooshing of fabric and smoke. “The witching hour is fast approaching, at least where you’re headed. And it will be a full moon tonight, so you really don’t want to miss your window.” She glanced at me, wandering back to the corner of the room, and sighed. “Ethan, darling, why don’t you sit down and eat? You’re making my brownies very nervous with all that pacing.”

Too bad for them, I thought, chewing a roll I’d snagged from the dining-room table in the middle of the room. The table was enormous and covered with enough food to feed an army, but I couldn’t sit still. Keirran and Kenzie sat opposite each other, talking quietly and occasionally giving me worried looks as I paced around them, while Razor cavorted among the plates, scattering food and making small messes. Several redcaps, dressed in butler suits with pink bow ties, skulked back and forth, cleaning up and looking like they really wanted to bite the gremlin’s head off. I kept a wary eye on them every time they approached Kenzie, tensing to jump in if they so much as looked at her. They reminded me of the motley that had chased me into the library and set it on fire, leading to my expulsion. If they made any threatening moves toward Kenzie, even a leer, they were going to get an expensive china plate to the back of the skull.

“Ethan,” Leanansidhe warned, “you’re wearing a hole through my carpet, darling. Sit down.” She pointed to a chair with her cigarette holder, pursing her lips. “The minions aren’t going to bite anyone’s knees off, and I’d hate to have to turn you into a harp for the rest of the evening. Sit.”

I pulled out a chair beside Kenzie and sat, still glaring at the biggest redcap, the guy with the fishhook through his nose. He sneered and bared his teeth, but then Razor knocked over a platter of fruit, and he hurried off with a curse. Leanansidhe threw up her hands.

“Keirran, dove. Your gremlin. Please keep it under control.” The Exile Queen pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed heavily. “Worse than having Robin Goodfellow in my house,” she murmured, as Kenzie clapped her hands, and Razor bounced happily into her lap. Leanansidhe shook her head. “Anyway, darlings, when you are finished here, I will have Annwyl show you the way to the trod. Meet her in the main hall, and she will take you out through the basement. If you have any questions about the ritual, I’m sure she can answer them for you.” At the mention of Annwyl’s name, Keirran glanced up, and Leanansidhe smiled at him. “I’m not a compete soulless harpy all the time, darling. Besides, you two remind me of another pair, and I just adore the irony.” She snapped her fingers and handed her cigarette flute to the redcap who scurried up. “Now, I’m off to meet a jinn about another disappearance, so don’t wait up for me, darlings. Oh, and, Kenzie, pet, when you finish the ritual, you might feel a bit odd for a moment.”

“Odd?”

“Nothing to worry about, dove.” The Exile Queen waved her hand. “Merely the completion of our bargain. I will see you three again soon, but not too soon, I hope.” She looked directly at me when she said this, before turning away in a swirl of glitter and lights. “Ciao, darlings!”

And she was gone.

As soon as she left, Annwyl came into the room, not looking at any of us. “Leanansidhe has bid me to show you to the faery ring tonight,” she said in her musical voice, gazing straight ahead. “We can leave whenever you are ready, but the ritual takes place at midnight, so we should depart soon—”

She paused as Keirran pushed back his chair and walked up to her. Taking her hand, the prince drew her to the table and pulled out the chair next to his, while Razor giggled and waved at her from Kenzie’s lap.

“I really shouldn’t be here,” Annwyl said, perching gingerly on the seat. Her green eyes darted around the room, as if the Exile Queen was hiding somewhere, listening to her. “If Leanansidhe finds out—”

“She can take it up with me,” Keirran broke in, sliding into his own chair. “Just because you have to be here doesn’t mean Leanansidhe should treat you like a servant.” He sighed, and for a second, his expression darkened. “I’m sorry. I know you miss Arcadia. I wish there was another place you could go.”

“I’m fine, Keirran.” Annwyl smiled at him, though her expression was wistful. “Avoiding Leanansidhe isn’t much different than avoiding Queen Titania in one of her moods. I worry most for you. I don’t want you to accede to Leanansidhe’s every whim and favor because of me.”

Keirran stared down at his plate. “If Leanansidhe asked me to fight a dragon,” he said in his quiet, sincere voice, “if it meant keeping you safe, I would go into the depths of the Deep Wyld and fight Tiamat herself.”

“How long have you two known each other?” Kenzie asked, as I gagged silently into a coffee mug. These two just needed to admit defeat and get on with it already.

Keirran spared her a quick glance and a smile. “I’m not sure,” he admitted, shrugging. “It’s hard to say exactly, especially in human years.”

“We met at Elysium,” Annwyl put in. “Midsummer’s Eve. When Oberon was hosting. I was chosen to perform a dance for the rulers of the courts. And when it started, I noticed that the son of the Iron Queen couldn’t stop staring at me the whole time.”

“I remember that dance,” Keirran said. “You were beautiful. But when I tried to talk to you, you ran away.” He gave me and Kenzie a wry grin. “No one from Summer or Winter wants to talk to the Prince of the Iron Realm. I’d poison their blood or shoot toxic vapors from my nose or something. Annwyl even sicced a school of undine on me once when I was visiting Arcadia. I very nearly drowned.”

Annwyl blushed. “But that didn’t deter you, did it?”

“So, how did you end up here?” I asked. And Keirran’s eyes narrowed.

“Summer Court politics,” he said, frowning. “One of the minor nobles was jealous about Annwyl’s proximity to Titania, that she was a personal favorite, so she started the rumor that Annwyl was more beautiful and graceful and gifted than even the Summer Queen, and that Oberon would be blind not to see her.”

I winced. “That didn’t go over well, I’m sure.”

“Titania heard of it, of course.” Annwyl sighed. “By then, the rumor had spread so far there was no telling who first mentioned such a thing. The Queen was furious, and even though I denied it, she still feared I would steal her husband’s attention away.”

“So she banished you,” I muttered. “Yeah, that sounds like her.”

“She banished you?” Kenzie repeated, sounding outraged, “because someone said you were prettier? That’s totally unfair! Can’t any of the other rulers do something about it? You’re the prince of the Iron Realm,” she said, looking at Keirran. “Can’t you get the Iron Queen to help?”

Keirran grimaced. “Ah, I’m not really supposed to be here,” he said with a half embarrassed, half defiant smile. “If the other courts knew I was hanging around the Exile Queen, they wouldn’t approve. They’re afraid she’ll put treasonous thoughts in my head, or use me to overthrow the other rulers. But…” And his eyes hardened, the shadow of his father creeping over him, making him look more fey than before. “I don’t care what the courts dictate. Annwyl shouldn’t suffer because Titania is a jealous shrew. So, I asked Leanansidhe to do me a favor, to let her stay here, with the rest of the exiles. It’s not ideal, but it’s better than being out in the real world.”

“Why?” asked Kenzie.

“Because faeries banished to the real world, with no way to get home, eventually fade away into nothing,” Annwyl said solemnly. “That’s why exile is so terrifying. Cut off from the Nevernever, surrounded by iron and technology and humans that no longer believe in magic, we slowly lose ourselves, until we cease to exist at all.”

“Except the Iron fey,” I put in, glancing at Keirran. “So, you’d be in no danger.”

“Well, that and I’m partly human,” he replied, shrugging. “You’re right—iron has no effect on me. But for a Summer fey…” He glanced at Annwyl, worry shining from his eyes. No explanation was needed.

The Summer girl sniffed. “I’m not as delicate as that, Prince Keirran,” Annwyl said, giving him a wry smile. “You make me sound as fragile as a butterfly wing. I watched the druids perform their rites under the full moon long before your ancestors ever set foot on the land. I’m not going to blow away in the first strong wind that comes through the mortal world. Speaking of which,” she went on, rising from the table, “we should get going. Midnight isn’t far now, not where we’re headed. I’ll show you the way.”

* * *

I followed Annwyl, Keirran and Kenzie back through Leanansidhe’s huge basement—or dungeon, I guess—trailing a few steps behind to glare at the things skulking in the shadows. Annwyl had warned us that it might be cold once we emerged from the trod, and Kenzie wore a “borrowed” wool jacket that was two sizes too big for her. The Summer girl offered to find one for me, claiming Leanansidhe had tons of human clothes lying around that she’d never miss, but I didn’t want to put myself into her or Leanansidhe’s debt any more than I had to, so I refused. As usual, I carried my rattan sticks, in case we were jumped by anything nasty. They were starting to fray a little, though, and I found myself wishing more and more for the solid, steel blade in my room at home.