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

For a second, I couldn’t look away. My heartbeat picked up, and my mouth was suddenly dry, watching the girl in the center of the winking cloud, smiling as the tiny lights landed in her hair or perched on her arm.

She was beautiful.

“Okay,” I muttered, tearing my gaze away before she noticed I was staring, “I can admit it—that’s pretty cool.”

Grimalkin sniffed. “So pleased you approve,” he said. I frowned at him through the swirling lights, waving away several bugs drifting around my face. It occurred to me that we were on our own, now. Like the rest of the normal fey, Grimalkin couldn’t set foot in the Iron Realm. Meghan’s kingdom was still deadly to the rest of the Nevernever—only the Iron fey could live there without poisoning themselves. Grimalkin was showing us the border because he planned to leave us here.

“How far to the Iron Queen from here?” I asked.

The cat flicked a bug off his tail. “Still a few days by foot. Do not worry, though. Beyond this rise is a place that will take you to Mag Tuiredh, the site of the Iron Court, much faster than humans can walk.”

“I suppose this is where you leave,” I said.

“Do not be ridiculous, human.” The cat yawned and stood up. “Of course I am coming with you. Besides your being highly amusing, the favor dictates that I see you all the way to Mag Tuiredh and dump you at the Iron Queen’s feet. After that, you become her problem, but I will see you there, first.”

“You can’t go into the Iron Realm. It’ll kill you.”

Grimalkin gave me a bored look, turned and stalked off. Past the border and into the Iron Realm.

I hurried after him, Kenzie on my heels. “Wait,” I said, catching up to him, frowning. “I know the Iron Realm is deadly to normal fey. How are you doing this?”

Grimalkin paused, looking over his shoulder with glowing, half-lidded eyes. His tail waved lazily. “There are things about this world that you do not realize, human,” he purred. “Events that took place years ago, when the Iron Queen rose to power, still shape this world today. You do not know as much as you think you do. Besides…” He blinked, raising his head imperiously. “I am a cat.”

And that was the end of it.

The fireflies continued to light up the forest as we walked on, blinking through leaves and branches, glinting off the trunks. Trees with flickering light bulbs illuminated the path to wherever Grimalkin was taking us. Kenzie kept staring at them, the amazement and disbelief back on her face.

“This…is impossible,” she murmured once, brushing her fingers over a glittering trunk. Small glowing bulbs sprouted overhead like clusters of Christmas lights. Streetlamps grew right out of the dirt, lighting the path. “How…how can this be real?”

“This is the Iron Realm,” I told her. “It’s still Faery, just a different flavor of crazy.”

Before she could answer, the trees fell away, and we found ourselves at the top of a rise, staring down at the lights of a small village on the edge of a massive lake. It looked sort of like a gypsy town or a carnival, all lit up with torches and strings of colored lights. Thatched huts stood on posts rising out of the water, and wooden bridges crisscrossed the spaces between. Creatures of all shapes and sizes roamed the walkways above the water.

At the edge of the town, a railroad arched away over the lake, vanishing to a point somewhere on the horizon.

“What is this place?” I muttered, as Kenzie pressed close to my back, peering over my shoulder. Grimalkin sat down and curled his tail over his feet.

“This is a border town, one of many along the edge of the Iron Realm. I forget its exact name, if it even has one. Many Iron fey gather here, for one reason.” He raised a hind leg and scratched an ear. “Do you see the railroad, human?”

“What about it?”

“That will take you straight to Mag Tuiredh, the site of the Iron Court and the seat of the Iron Queen’s power. It costs nothing to board, and anyone may use it. The railroad was one of the first improvements the queen made when she took the throne. She wished for everyone to have a safe way to travel to Mag Tuiredh from anywhere in the Iron Realm.”

“We’re going down there?” Kenzie asked, her eyes big as she stared at the creatures roaming about the bridges. Grimalkin sniffed.

“Do you see another way to get to the railroad, human?”

“But…what about the faeries?”

“I doubt they will bother you,” the cat replied, unconcerned. “They see many travelers through this part of town. Do not speak to anyone, get on the train, and you will be fine.” He raised a hind leg to scratch his ear. “That is where I will meet you, when you finally decide to show up.”

“You’re not coming?”

Grimalkin curled his whiskers in distaste. “Outside of Mag Tuiredh, I try to avoid contact with the denizens of the Iron Realm,” he said in a lofty voice. “It circumvents tiresome, unnecessary questions. Besides, I cannot hold your hands the entire way to the Iron Queen.” He sniffed and stood up, waving his tail. “The train will arrive soon. Do try not to miss it, humans.”

Without another word, he disappeared.

Kenzie sighed, muttering something about impossible felines. And I realized, suddenly, that she looked very pale and tired in the moonlight. There were shadows under her eyes, and her cheeks looked hollow, wasted. Her normal boundless energy seemed to have deserted her as she rubbed her arm and gazed down the slope, shivering in the cold breeze.

“So,” she said, turning to me. Even her smile looked weary as she stood at the edge of the rise, the wind ruffling her hair. “Head into the creepy faery town, talk to the creepy faery conductor and board the creepy faery train, because a talking cat told us to.”

“Are you all right?” I asked. “You don’t look so good.”

“Just tired. Come on, let’s go already.” She backed up a step, avoiding my eyes, but as she turned, I saw something in the moonlight that made my stomach clench.

“Kenzie, wait!” Striding forward, I caught her arm as gently as I could. She tried squirming from my grip, but I pulled back her sleeve to reveal a massive purple stripe, stretching from her shoulder almost to her elbow. A dark, sullen blotch marring her otherwise flawless skin.

I sucked in a horrified breath. “When did you get this?” I demanded, angry that she hadn’t told me, and that I hadn’t noticed it until now. “What happened?”

“It’s fine, Ethan.” She yanked her arm back and tugged her sleeve down. “It’s nothing. I got it when we were fighting the lindwurm thing.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because it’s not a big deal!” Kenzie shrugged. “Ethan, trust me, I’m all right. I bruise easily, that’s all.” But she didn’t look at me when she said it. “I get them all the time, now can we please go? Like Grim said, we don’t want to miss the train.”

“Kenzie…” But she was already gone, dropping down the rise without looking back, striding merrily toward the lights and the railroad and the town of Iron fey. I blew out a frustrated breath and hurried to catch up.

After picking our way down the slope, we entered the town. Kenzie gazed around in wonder, her weariness forgotten, while I gripped my rattan and tensed every time something came near.

Iron fey surrounded us, weird, crazy and nightmarish. Creatures made entirely of twisted wire. A well-dressed figure in a top hat, holding the leash of a ticking clockwork hound. An old woman with the body of a giant spider scuttled past, her metallic, needlelike legs clicking over the wood. Kenzie let out a squeak and squeezed my hand, nearly crushing my fingers, until the spider-thing had disappeared.

We were getting stared at. Despite what Grimalkin said, the Iron fey were taking notice of us, and why not? It wasn’t every day two humans strolled through their town, looking decidedly mortal and un-fey. Strangely enough, no one tried to stop us as we maneuvered the swaying bridges and walkways, passing shacks and odd-looking stores, feeling glowing fey eyes on my back.

Until we reached a large, circular deck where several walkways converged. I could see the railroad at the edge of town, stretching out over the lake. But as we headed toward it, a hunched figure dressed in rags suddenly reached out and grabbed Kenzie’s wrist as she passed, making her yelp.

I spun, whipping my rattan down, striking the arm that held her, and the faery let go with a raspy cry. Shaking its fingers, it crept forward again, and I shoved Kenzie behind me, meeting the faery with my sticks raised.

“Humans,” it hissed, and several rusty screws dropped out of its rags as it circled. “Humans have something for me, yes? A pocket watch? A lovely phone?” It raised its head, revealing a face put together with bits and pieces of machinery. One eye was a glowing bulb, the other the head of a copper screw. A mouth made of wires smiled at us as the thing eased forward. “Stay,” it urged, as Kenzie recoiled in shock. “Stay and share.”

“Back off,” I warned, but a crowd was forming now, fey that had simply been watching before easing forward. They surrounded us on the platform, not lunging or attacking, but preventing us from going any farther. I kept an eye on both them and the machine-scrap faery; if they wanted a fight, I’d be happy to oblige.

“Stay,” urged the faery in rags, still circling us, smiling. “Stay and talk. We help each other, yes?”

A piercing whistle rent the air, drawing the attention of several fey. Moments later, an enormous train appeared over the lake, trailing billowing clouds of smoke as it chugged closer. Bulky and massive, leaking smoke and steam everywhere, it pulled into the station with a roar and a screech of rusty gears before shuddering to a halt.

Several faeries began making their way toward the huge, smoking engine, as a copper-skinned faery in a conductor’s uniform stepped out front, waving them forward. The crowd thinned a bit, but not enough.

“Dammit, I don’t want to have to fight our way out,” I growled, keeping an eye on the fey surrounding us. “But we need to get to that train now.” The faery in rags eased closer, as if he feared we would turn and run. “This one isn’t going to let us go,” I said, feeling my muscles tense, and gripped my weapons. “Kenzie, stay back. This could get ugly.”

“Wait.” Kenzie grabbed my sleeve, a second before I would’ve lunged forward and cracked the fey in the skull. Pulling me to the side, she stepped forward and stripped off her camera. “Here,” she told the ragged fey, holding it out. “You want a trade, right? Is this good enough?”

The Iron faery blinked, then reached out and snatched the camera, wire lips stretched into a grin. “Ooooh,” it cooed, clutching it to its chest. “Pretty. So generous, little human.” It shook the camera experimentally and frowned. “Broken?”

“Um…yeah,” Kenzie admitted, and I tensed, ready to step in with force if the thing took offense. “Sorry.”

The faery grinned again. “Good trade!” it rasped, tucking the camera into its robes. “Good trade. We approve. Luck on your travels, little humans.”