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

“You do realize Central Park is over eight hundred acres. How are we supposed to find anything?”

“Certainly not by standing about and whining at me.” Grimalkin yawned and stretched, curling his tail over his back. “I have business to attend to,” he stated, hopping off the log. “So this is where we must part. If you find anything, return to this bridge—it will take you back to Leanansidhe’s. Do try not to get lost, humans. It is becoming rather tedious hunting you down.”

With a flick of his bushy tail, Grimalkin trotted away, leaped up an embankment, and vanished into the brush.

I looked at Kenzie and the others. “Any ideas? Other than wandering around a giant-ass park without a clue, that is.”

Surprisingly, it was Annwyl that spoke. “I remember coming here a few times in the past,” she said. “There are several places that are hot spots for the local fey. We could start there.”

“Good enough.” I nodded and gestured down the path. “Lead the way.”

Yep, Central Park was enormous, a whole world unto itself, it seemed. We followed Annwyl down twisty forest paths, over wider cement roads lined with trees, across a huge flat lawn that still had people milling about, tossing footballs or lying together on blankets, watching the stars.

“Strange,” Annwyl murmured as we crossed the gigantic field, passing a couple making out on a quilt. “There’s always a few of us on the lawn at twilight—it’s one of our favorite dancing spots. But this place feels completely empty.” A breeze whispered across the lawn, and she shivered, hugging herself. Keirran put his hands on her shoulders. “I’m afraid of what we might find here.”

“We haven’t found anything yet, Annwyl,” Keirran said, and she nodded.

“I know.”

We continued past the lawn, walking by a large, open-air stage on the banks of a lake. A statue of two lovers embracing sat just outside the theater, together for all time. Again, Annwyl paused, gazing at the structure as if she expected to see someone there.

“Shakespeare in the park.” She sighed, sounding wistful. “I watched A Midsummer Night’s Dream here once. It was incredible—the Veil was the thinnest I’d ever seen at that point. So many humans were almost ready to believe in us.” She shook her head, her face dark. “Something is very wrong. We haven’t seen a single exile, half-blood or anyone. What has happened here?”

“We have to keep looking,” Kenzie said. “There has to be someone who knows what’s going on. Is there another place we could search?”

Annwyl nodded. “One more place,” she murmured. “And if we don’t find anyone there, then there’s no one to be found. Follow me.”

She took us down another path that turned into a rocky trail, winding its way through a serene landscape of flowers and plants. Rustic wooden railings and benches lined the path, and a few late-blooming flowers still poked up from the vegetation. Quaint was the word that came to mind as we trailed Annwyl through the lush gardens. Quaint and picturesque, though I didn’t voice my opinion out loud. Keirran and Annwyl were faeries, and Kenzie was a girl, so it was okay for them to notice such things. As a card-carrying member of the guy club, I wasn’t going to comment on the floral arrangements.

“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.