The Iron Traitor (The Iron Fey: Call of the Forgotten 2)

“Keirran, please listen to him,” Annwyl said, taking his arm.

The prince finally turned to me, his expression intense. “Can you promise me your way will work?” he asked, his voice fervent. “Can you swear that if I agree to this, Annwyl will be saved?”

“I...” I hesitated, stabbing a hand through my hair. “I can’t...make that promise,” I admitted, watching his eyes narrow. “I just know someone who might be able to help.” Frustration colored my voice, and I jerked a thumb at the faeries watching us. “But it’s gotta be better than drugging your girlfriend with whatever crack this sicko is dealing.”

“But you don’t know.” Keirran’s tone was frustrated, too. “You don’t know if your way will stop the Fade. I can’t risk it, Ethan. Not now.”

“Boy.” Mr. Dust’s voice was no longer soothing or cajoling. “You are trying my patience,” he warned, and I noticed several more redcaps and an ogre had crept out of the shadows to join him. All the faeries looked pretty unfriendly, watching us with glowing eyes, a string of drool hanging from the ogre’s tusk. “And I have other clients waiting up front, so I’ll need an answer, boy. What’s it to be?”

Keirran took a breath to speak, but Kenzie beat him to it.

“These other clients,” she said, making us all stare at her, “they’re Forgotten, aren’t they?”

Mr. Dust blinked at her, then shrugged. “Yes,” he said. “As I said before, many of my clients are exiles, but the Forgotten Queen and I have worked out a deal. I provide them with the glamour they need to live, since they cannot get it anywhere else, and in turn they perform...certain tasks for me. A fair bargain for all.”

“Yeah?” Kenzie’s expression was hard, angry. “Fair bargain, huh? Then answer me this. The Forgotten didn’t always look like that, all dark and shadowy. Did they get that way from taking your black dust or from something else?”

The faery sniffed. “The Forgotten are a special case,” he said, and I heard him trying to dance around the question. “My dust is very potent, and it seems they have no glamour of their own to temper it. Very recently, a few of them have begun...changing, taking on the darker aspects that went into its making. They’re starting to personify fear. Fear of the unknown, of the shadowy terrors that lurk in the darkness and under beds. Fear of the dark and all that it hides.”

“So, you’re turning them into nightmares? Is that what’s happening?”

“Of course not.” Mr. Dust bared flat, even teeth in a very unhuman grimace. “I don’t see why I must explain this to you, mortal, but...think of a painting of a sunset. Everyone knows what a sunset looks like. If someone told you to paint a sunset, you would at least know where to start, yes?” He didn’t wait for her to answer, but continued in the same slightly irritated voice. “Now, mortal, picture a blank canvas. Imagine that you’d never seen a sunset, didn’t even know what one looked like, and someone asked you to paint one. Not only that, the only colors you were allowed were black and gray. Do you think your sunset would look anything like the real thing?

“The Forgotten are a blank canvas,” Mr. Dust went on as Kenzie frowned in confusion. “No one knows what they are, no one remembers what they looked like. The Forgotten themselves barely remember anything. Who they were, how they lived—it’s all a blank to them. And so, they can be altered, if the only ‘colors’ they are provided are shades of black and gray. They can change...they can be molded into something completely different than their original form. So you saw with the crowd outside. Soon, that will be all they know.

“But you need not worry your pretty head about that, mortal.” Mr. Dust waved a thin, airy hand. “Only the Forgotten are susceptible to that little...side effect. Your friend was part of the Seelie Court once, yes?” He smiled at Annwyl, who shivered. “She will not be affected like them.

“Now.” Mr. Dust turned back to Keirran, clasping his hands together. “We keep getting interrupted, my boy,” he stated, a dangerous edge creeping into his sibilant voice. “And I am losing patience. I need an answer. This instant. And if your friends attempt to stop us, I will have the redcaps rip out their throats.” The pouch appeared again, dangling from a long, bony finger. “Do we have a deal?”

“You still haven’t told me the price,” Keirran said before I could interrupt. “What do you want for it?”

“Dammit, Keirran—”

“I’ve come all this way,” the Iron Prince said coolly, still not looking at me or any of us. “I can’t leave empty-handed. Not if it means saving her life.” His gaze met the faery dealer’s, cold and rational. “What’s the cost for the dust tonight?”

Mr. Dust smiled.

“A very special bargain,” he crooned, his sharp gaze flicking to Kenzie and me. “A onetime offer. The price for the dust will be...the two mortals. Give them to me, and I will provide your girl with a lifetime supply of glamour. You will never have to make another payment after tonight.”

“What?” My skin crawled, and the walls of the room seemed to close in on us. I glared at the faery dealer, my hands dropping to my swords. “Not that I have any intention of letting that happen, but why the hell do you want us?”

“They have the Sight,” Mr. Dust continued, speaking to Keirran and ignoring me. “If they can See us, they can fear us, and that is worth more than the nightmares of a dozen children. Give me the two humans, Prince, and I will provide you with all the glamour you need, for as long as they are alive. Be warned, however. If you refuse, the price will become much higher. That is my offer, boy. What say you? Do we have a deal?”

I met Keirran’s gaze. He stared back, eyes glittering, reminding me of that night in the Lady’s throne room. When the Queen of the Forgotten asked Keirran if he would return, if he would promise to come back to her of his own free will, and he agreed. I’d tried to stop him then, too. But once Keirran’s mind was set, there was no talking him down. I didn’t think Keirran would stoop so low as to stab us in the back, but I couldn’t get that night, the night he’d almost betrayed me, out of my head.

Don’t you dare sell us out, Keirran, I thought, holding his stare. I will never forgive you, and if we have to fight our way out of this, you’ll be the first one I’m going through.

“Keirran,” Annwyl whispered, taking his arm, “please...don’t.”

Keirran closed his eyes and turned to face Mr. Dust.

“No,” he said firmly, and my insides uncoiled with relief. “No deal. That’s the one thing I can’t give you. This bargain is off.” His icy glare stabbed into me for the briefest of seconds before he turned back to the fey dealer. “I’m sorry we’ve wasted your time. We’ll show ourselves out.”

“That,” Mr. Dust said, withdrawing the leather pouch, “is very unfortunate. But I’m afraid you’re not going anywhere.”

The redcaps and ogre pressed forward, grinning eagerly. Keirran instantly drew his sword, about the same instant as I pulled my mine. The screech of weapons echoed through the small room as we stepped in front of the girls. The redcaps hooted, baring their fangs, and the ogre rumbled a challenge.

Keirran looked around calmly. “You don’t want to do this,” he warned.

Mr. Dust clasped his hands in front of him again, seemingly unconcerned. “When I said the price would jump substantially if you refused, I was not making idle threats,” he hissed. “The price has just gotten much higher. Now we bargain for something new. Your lives.”

“Yeah, I think I’ve reached my shopping limit for the day,” I said, backing toward the exit, keeping myself between Annwyl, Kenzie and the advancing redcaps. The door behind us banged open, and several more of the evil fey spilled into the room, trapping us between them. I cursed and spared a glance at the prince beside me, feeling the air chill around him. “Great. Tell me you saw this coming, Prince.”

Keirran gave a small, humorless smile. “From a mile away,” he said and raised his free arm.

Glamour swirled around him, invisible, but I could feel the icy cold radiating from the prince, the magic of Winter and the Unseelie Court. It tossed his silver hair, making his eyes glow blue-white. I shivered as frost crept over the walls and floor, making my breath hang in front of my face. The redcaps paused, and Keirran turned a deadly cold glare on Mr. Dust.

“Tell your minions to back off, or none of them will see another day.”

His voice was soft but as lethal as the icicles forming on the ceiling, making sharp, crinkling sounds as they grew into wicked points. Mr. Dust gave a soft hiss, staring at Keirran with new eyes.

“Let us go.” Keirran didn’t move, but the temperature in the room was getting colder. The redcaps looked uncomfortable, and the ribbons of drool hanging from the ogre’s tusks had frozen solid. I resisted the urge to rub my arms, keeping my swords raised and myself close to Kenzie and Annwyl. “Let us walk away,” Keirran insisted in an icy voice, “or everyone in this room will die, including you.”

“You don’t want to do that, boy,” Mr. Dust whispered, his voice soothing again. “If I am gone, there will be no more dust, no way to stop the Fading of exiles and Forgotten. You don’t want to be responsible for that, now, do you?” When Keirran hesitated, the faery smiled. “All you have to do is leave me the two mortals, and we can avoid this unpleasantness. You will have your dust, and the Summer girl will be saved. Surely you can see the wisdom in this? What are two humans to the Iron Prince? The world is crawling with them. Just promise me these two, and our bargain will be complete.”

I didn’t know what to expect, but it wasn’t Keirran’s laughter, quiet and mocking, as he shook his head at the faery dealer. “That’s quite an offer,” he said, lowering his arm. “But I think you’re forgetting something.”

“Oh? And what is that, boy?”

Keirran dropped to one knee, driving his fist into the wooden floor. There was a blinding flash of blue-white, and I flinched, turning away, as roars and screams erupted around us. But a second later, they cut out as if someone had flipped a switch. My skin burned with cold, and I opened my eyes with a gasp.

The room now resembled the interior of an icebox. Everything was frozen, buried under several inches of solid ice. The redcaps and the lone ogre stood in the same spots, arms thrown up and mouths gaping, encased in a layer of frozen crystal.

In the center of the room, Mr. Dust blinked at us, unharmed. Keirran rose, panting, and gave the faery dealer a hard smile.

“I don’t sell out my family.”

I was pretty sure my mouth was hanging open as Keirran calmly turned to me and jerked his head at the door. “Come on,” he said, sounding tired. “Let’s get out of here.”

No one argued, and no one tried to stop us. We walked past the frozen ogre and redcaps, trying not to look at the once-living fey, following Keirran as he strode across the room and pushed open the door...