The Iron Daughter

CHAPTER NINE The Summoning

The evening following Ash’s departure, Puck and I hit the edge of the wyldwood.

“Not far now, Princess,” Puck said, giving me an encouraging grin. A few yards from where we stood, the snow and ice just…stopped. Beyond it, the wyldwood stretched before us, dark, tangled, trapped in perpetual twilight. “Just gotta cross the wyldwood to get you home. You’ll be back to your old boring life before you can say ‘summer school.’”

I tried smiling back, but couldn’t manage it. Even though my heart soared at the thought of home and family and even summer school, I felt I was leaving a part of me behind. Throughout our hike, I’d kept turning around, hoping to see Ash’s dark form striding through the snow after us, gruffly embarrassed and taciturn, but there. It didn’t happen. Tir Na Nog remained eerily empty and quiet as Puck and I continued our journey alone. And as the sun sank lower in the sky and the shadows lengthened around us, I slowly came to realize that Ash wasn’t coming back. He was truly gone.

I quivered on the verge of tears but held them back. I did not want to have to explain to Puck why I was crying. He already knew I was upset, and kept trying to distract me with jokes and a constant string of questions. What happened after we left him to confront Machina? How did we find the Iron Realm? What was it like? I answered as best I could, leaving out the parts between me and Ash, of course. Puck didn’t need yet another reason to hate the Winter prince, and hopefully he would never find out.

As we approached the colorless murk of the wyldwood, something moved in the shadows to our left. Puck spun with blinding speed, whipping out his dagger, as a spindly form stumbled through the trees and collapsed a few feet away. It was a girl, slender and graceful, with moss-green skin and hair like withered vines. A dryad.

The tree woman shuddered and gasped, clawing herself upright. One long-fingered hand clutched her throat as if she were being strangled. “Help…me,” she gasped at Puck, her brown eyes wide with terror. “My tree…”

“What’s happened to it?” Puck said, and caught her as she fell. She sagged against him, her head lolling back on her shoulders. “Hey,” he said, shaking her a little. “Stay with me now. Where’s your tree? Did someone cut it down?”

The dryad gasped for air. “P-poisoned,” she whispered, before her eyes rolled up and her body turned to wood in his arms. With the sound of snapping twigs, the dryad curled in on herself until she resembled little more than a bundle of dry branches. I watched the faery’s life fade away, remembered what Ash had said about the fey and death, and felt terribly, terribly sad. That was it for her, then. She’d simply ceased to exist.

Puck sighed, bowing his head, and gathered the lifeless dryad into his arms. She was thin and brittle now, fragile as spun glass, but not one twig snapped or broke off as he carried her away. With utmost care, he laid the body at the foot of a giant tree, murmured a few words and stepped back.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, huge roots unfurled from the ground, wrapping around the dryad to draw her down into the earth. In seconds, she had disappeared.

We stood quietly for a moment, unwilling to break the somber mood. “What did she mean by poisoned?” I finally murmured.

Puck shook himself, giving me a humorless grin. “Let’s find out.”

WE DIDN’T HAVE to search far. Only a few minutes into the wyldwood, the trees curled away, and we stumbled onto a familiar patch of dead ground in the middle of the forest. An entire swath of forest was sickened and dying, trees twisted into strange metal parodies. Metal lampposts grew out of the ground, bent over and flickering erratically. Wires crawled over roots and trunks, choking trees and vegetation like red and black creeper vines. The air smelled of copper and decay.

“It’s spreading,” Puck muttered, holding his sleeve to his face as the metallic breeze ruffled my hair and clothes. “This wasn’t here a few months ago.” He turned to me. “I thought you said you killed the Iron King.”

“I did. I mean, yes, he’s dead.” I gazed out over the poisoned forest, shuddering. “But that doesn’t mean the Iron Realm is gone. Tertius told me he served a new Iron King.”

Puck’s eyes narrowed. “Another one? You sort of failed to mention that before, Princess.” Shaking his head, he scanned the wasted area and sighed. “Another Iron King. Dammit, how many of them are we going to have to kill? Are they going to keep popping up like rats?”

I squirmed at the thought of yet another killing. A sharp wind hissed over the wasteland, scraping the branches of the metal trees, making me shiver. Puck coughed and staggered away.

“Well, come on, Princess. We can’t do anything about it now. Let’s get you home.”

Home. I thought about my family, about my normal life, so tantalizingly close. I thought of the Nevernever, dying and fading away bit by bit. And I made my decision. “No.”

Puck blinked and looked back. “What?”

“I can’t go home yet, Puck.” I gazed around at the poisoned Nevernever, seeing echoes of Machina’s realm looming over everything. “Look at this. People are dying. I can’t close my eyes and pretend it isn’t happening.”

“Why not?” I blinked at him, stunned by his cavalier attitude. He just grinned. “You’ve done enough, Princess. I think you deserve to go home after everything you went through. Hell, you already took care of one Iron King. The Nevernever will be fine, trust me.”

“What about the scepter?” I persisted. “And the war? Oberon should know Mab is planning to attack him.”

Puck shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “I was already planning on telling him, Princess, provided he doesn’t turn me into a rat as soon as he sees me. As for the scepter, the Ice prince is already looking for it. Not a lot we can do, there.” At my protest, he waved a hand airily. “The war is going to start with or without us, Princess. It’s nothing new. Winter and Summer have always been at odds. Not a century goes by that there isn’t some kind of fighting going on. This will pass, like it always does. Somehow, the scepter will be returned, and things will go back to normal.”

I frowned, remembering something Mab had said to Oberon at the ceremony. “What about my world?” I demanded. “Mab said there would be a catastrophe if Summer held the scepter longer than it was supposed to. What will happen if the Iron King gets it? Things will get really screwed up, right?”

Puck scratched the back of his neck. “Erm…maybe.”

“Maybe, like how?”

“Ever wanted to go sledding in the Mojave Desert?”

I stared at him. “We can’t let that happen, Puck! What’s wrong with you? I can’t believe you’d think I’d just ignore this!” He shrugged, still infuriatingly nonchalant, and I went for the cheap shot. “You’re just afraid, aren’t you? You’re scared of the Iron fey and you don’t want to get involved. I didn’t think you’d be such a coward.”

“I’m trying to keep you safe!” Puck exploded, whirling on me. His eyes glowed feverishly, and I shrank back. “This isn’t a game, Meghan! The shit is about to hit the fan, and you’re right in the middle of it without knowing enough to duck!”

Righteous indignation flared; I was sick of being told what to do, that I should be afraid. “I’m not helpless, Puck!” I shot back. “I’m not some squealing cheerleader you have to babysit. I’ve got blood on my hands now, too. I killed the Iron King, and I still have nightmares about it. I killed something! And I’d do it again, if I had to!”

“I know that,” Puck snapped, throwing up his hands. “I know you’d risk everything to protect us, and that’s what worries me. You still don’t know enough about this world to be properly terrified. Things are going to get screwed eight ways from Sunday, and you’re making goo-goo eyes at the enemy! I heard what happened in Machina’s realm and yes, it scared the hell out of me. I love you, dammit. I’m not going to watch you get torn apart when everything goes bad.”

My stomach twisted, both from his confession, and what he’d said about me and Ash. “You…you knew?” I stammered.

He gave me a scornful look. “I’ve been around a long time, Princess. Give me a little credit. Even a blind man would see the way you looked at him. I’m guessing something happened in Machina’s realm, but once you came out, our boy remembered he wasn’t supposed to fall in love with Summer.” I blushed, and Puck shook his head. “I didn’t say anything because he’d already made up his mind to leave. You might not know the consequences, Princess, but Ash does. He did the right thing, much as I hate to speak well of him.”

My lip trembled. Puck snorted, but saw me teetering on the brink of tears. His expression softened. “Forget about him, Meghan,” he said gently. “Ash is bad news. Even if the law wasn’t an issue, I’ve fought him enough times to know he would break your heart.”

The tears finally spilled over. “I can’t,” I whispered, giving in to the despair that had followed me all morning. This wasn’t fair to Puck, after he’d finally confessed that he loved me, but I couldn’t seem to stop. My soul cried out for Ash, for his courage and determination; for the way his eyes thawed when he looked at me, as if I were the only person in the world; for that beautiful, wounded spirit I saw beneath the cold exterior he showed the world. “I can’t forget. I miss him. I know he’s the enemy, and we broke all kinds of rules, but I don’t care. I miss him so much, Puck.”

Puck sighed, either in sympathy or aggravation, and pulled me close. I sobbed into his chest, releasing all the pent-up emotions that had been building since I first saw Ash in the throne room. Puck held me and stroked my hair like old times, saying nothing, until the tears finally slowed and I sniffled against his shirt.

“Better?” he murmured.

I nodded and broke away, wiping my eyes. The ache was still there, but it was bearable now. I knew it would be a long time before the hurt went away, if ever, but I knew in my heart that I had said my last goodbyes to Ash. Now, maybe I could let him go.

Puck moved behind me and put his hands on my shoulders, leaning close. “I know it’s too soon right now,” he muttered into my hair, “but, just so you know, I’ll wait. When you’re ready, I’ll be right here. Don’t forget, Princess.”

I could only nod. Puck squeezed my shoulders and stepped back, waiting quietly while I composed myself. When I turned around again, he was back to being normal Puck, perpetual grin plastered to his face, leaning against a tree.

“Well,” he sighed, “I don’t suppose I’ll be changing that stubborn mind of yours, will I?”

“No, you won’t.”

“I was afraid of that.” He leaped onto an old stump, crossing his arms and cocking his head. “Well then, my scheming princess, what’s the plan?”

I wanted to smile at him, but something was wrong. My legs felt all tingly, and a strange pull tugged at my stomach. I felt restless, like ants crawled beneath my skin, and I couldn’t hold still if my life depended on it. Without meaning to, I began edging away from Puck, toward the forest.

“Princess?” Puck hopped down, frowning. “You all right? Got ants in your pants or something?”

I had just opened my mouth to reply when some invisible force nearly yanked me off my feet, and I shrieked instead. Puck reached for me, but I leaped away without meaning to. “What is this?” I cried, as the strange force yanked on me again, urging me into the trees. “I can’t…stop. What’s going on?”

Puck grabbed my arm, holding me back, and my stomach felt like it was being pulled in two. I screamed, and Puck let go, his face white with shock.

“It’s a Summoning,” he said, hurrying after me as I walked away. “Something is calling you. Did you make a bargain or give anything personal away recently? Hair? Blood? A piece of clothing?”

“No!” I cried, grabbing a vine to stop myself. Pain shot up my arms, and I let go with a yelp. “I haven’t given anything away! How do I stop it?”

“You can’t.” Puck jogged at my side, his gaze intense and worried, but he made no move to touch me. “If something is Calling, you have to go. It only gets more painful if you resist. Don’t worry, though.” He attempted a cheerful grin. “I’ll be right behind you.”

“Don’t worry?” I tried to scowl at him over my shoulder. “This is like Invasion of the Body Snatchers; of course I’m worried!” Once more, I tried latching on to a tree to stop my feet from waltzing away without my say-so. No use. My arms wouldn’t even obey me anymore. With a final glance at Puck, I gave in to the strange compulsion and let my body take me away.

I strode through the forest like I was on a mission, ignoring all but the greatest obstacles. I scrambled over rocks and fallen trees, charged headlong down gullies, and walked through brambles and briar patches, gasping as they tore at my skin and clothes. Puck followed close behind, his worried gaze at my back, but he didn’t stop me a second time. My legs burned, my breath came in short gasps, and my arms bled from dozens of cuts and scratches, but I could no sooner make myself stop than fly. And so we continued our mad rush through the forest, getting farther away from Tir Na Nog and deeper into unknown territory.

Night was falling when the weird spell faded at last, and my feet stopped so abruptly that I fell, pitching forward and rolling in the dirt. Puck was beside me instantly, helping me up, asking whether I was okay. I couldn’t answer him at first. My legs burned, and all I could do was suck air into my starving lungs and feel relieved that my body was finally my own again.

“Where are we?” I gasped as soon as I was able.

It seemed we had stumbled onto some sort of village. Simple mud and thatch huts lay in a loose semicircle around a fire pit, which was empty and cold. Bones, animal skins, and half-eaten carcasses lay scattered about, buzzing with flies.

“Looks like an abandoned goblin village,” Puck muttered as I leaned against him, still gasping. He looked down at me, smirking. “Piss off any goblins lately, Princess?”

“What? No.” I wiped sweat from my eyes and stumbled over to a log, collapsing on it with a groan. “At least, I don’t think so.”

“There you are,” came a disembodied voice, from somewhere near the edge of the trees. I jumped up and looked around, but couldn’t see the speaker. “You are late. I was afraid you had gotten lost, or eaten. But, I suppose it is only human failing that is to blame for the loss of punctuality.”

My heart leaped. I knew that voice! I gazed around eagerly, but of course I couldn’t see anything until Puck grabbed my arm and pointed me toward the edge of the trees. An old log lay in the shadows just outside the village border, dappled by moonlight. One moment, it was empty. Then, I blinked, or the moonlight shifted, and a large gray cat sat there, bottlebrush tail curled around his legs, regarding me with lazy golden eyes.

“Grimalkin!”

Grimalkin blinked at me, looking much as he always did, long gray fur blending perfectly into the moonlight and shadows. He ignored me as I rushed up, completely absorbed in washing his front paw. I might have swooped him up and given him a squeeze, if I didn’t know his sharp claws would turn my face into hamburger and he would never forgive me.

Puck grinned. “Hey, cat,” he greeted with an airy wave. “Long time no see. I guess you’re the one responsible for our little Death March?”

The feline yawned. “That is the last time I put a Summoning on a human,” he mused, raising a hind leg to scratch his ear. “I could have taken a nap instead of waiting for you to finally show up. What took you so long, human? Did you walk?”

I finally remembered: Grimalkin had helped me in the search for my brother, and in return, we had agreed that he could call on me, once, at a time of his choosing, though I’d had no idea what that entailed at the time. That was our bargain. Seems he’d finally gotten around to calling it in.

“What are you doing here, Grim?” I asked, torn between delight and aggravation. I was happy to see him, of course, but I wasn’t thrilled about the forced march through goblin-infested woodlands, just to say hi. “This better be good, cat. Your stupid Summoning spell could’ve killed me. What is it you want?”

Grimalkin turned to groom his hindquarters. “I do not want anything from you, human,” he said between licks. “I brought you here as a favor for someone else. You will have to take your business up with him. And, if you would, remind him that he now owes me a boon, since I wasted a perfectly good Summoning on you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“HE MEANS ME, MEGHAN CHASE.” The thunderous voice shook the ground, and the smell of burning coal drifted over the breeze. “I ASKED HIM TO CALL YOU HERE.”

Something stepped out from behind a hut, a monstrous horse of blackened iron, with burning red eyes and flames smoldering through the chinks in its belly. Steam billowed from its nostrils as it swung to face me, huge and imposing and terrifyingly familiar.

Ironhorse.

CHAPTER TEN Truth and Lies

“STOP!” Ironhorse bellowed as Puck immediately pulled out his dagger, shoving me behind him. “I DID NOT COME HERE TO FIGHT, ROBIN GOODFELLOW. PUT YOUR WEAPON DOWN AND LISTEN TO ME.”

“Oh, I don’t think so, Rusty,” Puck sneered, as we began backing toward the edge of the village. “I have a better idea. You stay there until we get to Oberon, who will rip you apart and bury your pieces so far apart you’ll never get put back together.”

My heart pounded, both from fear and a sudden fury. Ironhorse was one of Machina’s lieutenants, sent to capture me and bring me to the Iron King. We’d escaped him twice before, once in Tir Na Nog and once in the Iron Kingdom, but Ironhorse had a bad habit of popping up when we least expected it. I certainly hadn’t expected to run into him here.

“Dammit, Grim!” I raged, shooting the cat a furious glare as we backed up. He blinked at me calmly. “You sold us out to them? That’s low, even for you.”

Grimalkin sighed and gave Ironhorse a chiding look. “I thought you were to stay hidden until I could explain things,” he said with an exasperated flick of his tail. “I told you they would overreact.”

Ironhorse stamped a hoof, sending an explosion of dirt into the air. “TIME IS PRESSING,” he boomed, tossing his head. “WE DO NOT HAVE THE LUXURY OF WAITING MUCH LONGER. MEGHAN CHASE, I MUST SPEAK WITH YOU. WILL YOU HEAR ME OUT?”

I hesitated. This was new. Normally, about this time, we’d be fighting for our lives. Ironhorse wasn’t usually polite. And Grimalkin still watched calmly from the log, gauging our reaction. Curiosity got the better of me. I put a hand on Puck’s arm to stop him from backing up farther.

“I want to talk to him,” I whispered, ignoring his frown. “He came here for a reason, and maybe he knows about the scepter. Keep an eye on him, will you?”

Puck glared at me, then shrugged. “Fine, Princess. But the second he makes a move, he’ll be upside down in a tree before he can blink.”

I squeezed his arm and stepped around him to face Ironhorse. The huge Iron fey loomed over me, steam writhing from his mouth and nostrils. “What do you want?”

I’d forgotten how big Ironhorse was. Not just tall, but massive. He shifted his weight, gears clanking and groaning, and I took a wary step back. He might not be attacking, but I trusted him about as far as I could throw him, which was not at all. I also hadn’t forgiven him for nearly killing Ash the last time we’d met.

Ironhorse lowered his head in what was almost a bow. “THANK YOU, MEGHAN CHASE. I CALLED YOU HERE BECAUSE WE HAVE A MUTUAL PROBLEM. YOU SEEK THE SCEPTER OF THE SEASONS, IS THAT NOT CORRECT?”

I crossed my arms. “What do you know about that?”

“I KNOW WHERE IT IS,” Ironhorse continued, swishing his tail with a clanking sound. “I CAN HELP YOU RETRIEVE IT.”

Puck laughed. “Sure you can,” he mocked, as Ironhorse snorted and pinned his ears. “And all we have to do is follow you like eager little puppy dogs, all the way into the trap. Sorry, tin can, we’re not that naive.”

Ironhorse snorted. “DO NOT MOCK ME, ROBIN GOODFELLOW,” he said with a blast of flame from his nostrils. “MY OFFER IS GENUINE. I DO NOT SEEK TO MISLEAD YOU.”

“Bull,” I snapped, crossing my arms. Ironhorse blinked at me, astonished. “Tertius and a bunch of creepy metal assassins stole the scepter and killed Sage, knowing Mab would blame Oberon for it. The new Iron King designed this war. He plans to slaughter everyone when the courts are at their weakest. Why would you want to help us stop it?”

“BECAUSE—” Ironhorse stamped a hoof. “—THE NEW IRON KING IS A FRAUD.”

It was my turn to blink at him. “A fraud? What do you mean?”

The lieutenant tossed his head disdainfully. “EXACTLY WHAT I SAID. THE KING CURRENTLY SITTING THE THRONE IS AN INTRUDER AND A FAKE. I FEEL NO LOYALTY TOWARD HIM.” He swished his tail and raised his head imperiously. “I AM NOT LIKE THE IRON BROTHERHOOD. THE KNIGHTS WERE CREATED TO OBEY WHOEVER SITS UPON THE THRONE. THEIR SENSE OF DUTY IS WARPED. I KNOW THE TRUTH. AND I WILL NOT SERVE HIM.”

I glanced at Puck. “What do you think of all this?”

“Me?” Puck smirked and crossed his arms. “I think all Iron fey should be melted down into scrap metal. I wouldn’t follow Rusty here if my life depended on it.”

“How very predictable.” Grimalkin’s voice drifted up from near my feet. I hadn’t even heard him move. “Your prejudice blinds you to what is really happening.”

“Oh, really?” I glared at him. “Then why don’t you tell us what’s going on, Grim.”

Grimalkin yawned. “Is it not obvious? When you killed Machina, the Iron fey lost their ruler. They needed someone to sit upon the throne, give them direction. A false monarch claiming to be the Iron King answered them, but not everyone accepted him. Now, the Iron fey are split into two camps, one siding with the false king, and one that wishes to bring him down. Ironhorse is part of the second. Is that not true?”

“THAT IS CORRECT.”

“If the false king gets the scepter, he will become even more powerful,” Grimalkin continued, gazing at me with unblinking golden eyes. “If he is to be stopped, it must happen before he receives it. Ironhorse claims to know its location. You would be foolish not to listen to him.”

“What if he’s lying?”

Ironhorse threw up his head with an indignant blast of flame. “I DO NOT LIE,” he boomed, and I shrank back from the heat. “DESPITE WHAT YOU THINK OF ME, I AM STILL FEY, AND NO FEY CAN TELL AN UNTRUTH.”

Blinking, I looked at Puck. I hadn’t heard that before, except in vague mentions of faery lore. “Really?”

Puck nodded. “Pretty much, Princess.” He shot an evil look at Ironhorse. “Though comparing Rusty to one of us is a bit of a stretch.”

“But…you told lies all the time, when you were Robbie. Your entire life was a lie.”

Grimalkin snorted. “Just because he cannot lie does not mean he cannot deceive, human. Robin Goodfellow is an expert at dancing around the truth.”

“Oh, look who’s talking. If you’re not an expert at screwing people over, I’ll eat my head.”

Ironhorse snorted and shook his mane. “ENOUGH. TIME IS PRESSING. WE DO NOT HAVE TIME TO ARGUE. MEGHAN CHASE, WILL YOU ACCEPT MY HELP OR NOT?”

I looked him in the eye. His blank, rigid mask gazed back at me, expressionless and impassive. “Are you really here to help us?” I asked. “You really want to get the scepter back and stop the war?”

“YES.”

“And, you aren’t going to lead us into some kind of trap?”

“NO.”

I took a deep breath and let it out again. “That seems to be all the questions I can think of right now.”

“Here’s an important one,” Puck added. “Where is the scepter anyway, Rusty?”

Ironhorse blew a puff of steam at him. “I DO NOT ANSWER TO YOU, OLDBLOOD. MY BARGAIN IS WITH THE GIRL.”

“Yeah?” Puck’s grin grew dangerous. “What if I take you apart and turn you into a toaster oven? How’d you like that, tin can?”

“I WOULD LIKE TO SEE YOU TRY.”

“Guys, please!” This was as bad as refereeing the frequent threat-fests between Puck and Ash. “Enough with the posturing and testosterone. Ironhorse, if we’re going to do this, we need to know where the scepter is. We can’t follow you blindly into wherever.”

Ironhorse bobbed his head. “OF COURSE, MEGHAN CHASE.” I frowned at his compliancy, but he went on without pause. “THE SCEPTER OF THE SEASONS HAS BEEN TAKEN INTO THE MORTAL REALM. IT IS BEING HELD IN A PLACE CALLED SILICON VALLEY.”

“Silicon Valley? That’s in California.”

“YES.”

“Why there?”

“SILICON VALLEY WAS THE BIRTHPLACE OF LORD MACHINA,” Ironhorse said gravely. “MANY OF HIS LIEUTENANTS, LIKE VIRUS AND GLITCH, ALSO HAIL FROM THAT AREA. IT IS A REGION OF IRON FEY, ONE THAT THE OLDBLOODS—” he shot a glance at Puck “—AVOID COMPLETELY. IT IS THE IDEAL PLACE TO HIDE THE SCEPTER.”

“You can say that again,” I mused. Silicon Valley wasn’t just one city, it was every city in that area. “Finding the scepter will be like looking for a needle in a haystack—in a field of haystacks.”

“I CAN FIND IT.” Ironhorse raised his head, looking down his long nose at us. “I SWEAR IT. DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY THE WORDS? MEGHAN CHASE, I, IRONHORSE, LAST LIEUTENANT OF LORD MACHINA, WILL TAKE YOU TO THE SCEPTER OF THE SEASONS, AND I VOW TO PROTECT YOU UNTIL IT IS IN YOUR HANDS. THIS I SWEAR, ON MY HONOR AND MY DUTY TO THE TRUE MONARCH OF THE IRON COURT.”

I drew in a breath, and even Puck looked surprised. An oath like that meant the speaker was bound to fulfill it. Ironhorse wasn’t playing around. As I stood there gaping at him, Puck took my arm and turned me aside.

“What about Oberon?” he murmured. “He’s the only one who can remove the seal. If we go gallivanting off to California, you won’t have your magic to protect you.”

“We can’t worry about that now.” I shook off his hand. “The scepter is more important. Besides, that’s what I have you for.” I smiled at him, and turned to Ironhorse. “All right, Ironhorse. We have a deal. Take us to the scepter.”

“Finally.” Grimalkin stood and stretched, bottlebrush tail curling over his back. “You make decisions as slowly as you answer Summonings, human. I do hope this will not become a habit.”

“Wait. You’re coming, too? Why?”

“I am bored.” Grimalkin waved his tail languidly. “And you are always entertaining…except when I am waiting for you to arrive, of course. Besides, the lieutenant and I have business, as well.”

“You do?” I waited, but he didn’t elaborate. “What is it?”

He sniffed and half slitted his eyes. “None of your concern, human. And you will need my guidance, if you want to get the scepter as quickly as possible. I believe the closest trod to Silicon Valley is through the Briars.”

Puck’s eyebrows shot up. “The Briars? You’re risking an awful lot, cat. Why don’t we try a trod a little less, oh I don’t know…lethal? If we double back, we can use the trod through the Frost Meadows. That will bring us close to San Francisco, and we can easily hitch a ride from there.”

Grimalkin shook his head. “If we want to reach Silicon Valley, we must go through the thorns. Do not worry, I will not get you lost. The trod past the Frost Meadows has become inaccessible. It sits too close to Tir Na Nog.”

“Still don’t see the problem, cat.”

Ironhorse snorted. “THE FROST MEADOWS HAVE BECOME A BATTLEFIELD, ROBIN GOODFELLOW,” he said, making my stomach clench. “WINTER HAS ALREADY CUT A SWATH OF DESTRUCTION THROUGH THE WYLDWOOD, AND THEY ARE ADVANCING ON SUMMER AS WE SPEAK. THERE IS A HUGE ARMY OF UNSEELIE BETWEEN US AND THAT TROD. THE CAITH SITH IS RIGHT—WE CANNOT TURN BACK.”

“Of course I am,” Grimalkin agreed. “We go through the Briars.”

“I don’t get it,” I said, as Grim trotted off with his tail in the air, confident in his victory. “What are the Briars? Grimalkin? Hey!”

Grimalkin looked back, his eyes bright floating orbs in the gloom.

“I am not here to chitchat, human. If you truly want your question answered, ask your Puck. Perhaps he will be able to soften the reality for you. I would not.” He twitched his tail, and continued into the trees without looking back.

I looked at Puck. He grimaced and shot me a humorless smile.

“Right. The Briars. Just a second, Princess. Hey, Rusty,” he called, motioning to Ironhorse, who pinned back his ears, “why don’t you walk ahead of us, huh? I want your big ugly ass where I can see it.”

Ironhorse glared at him balefully, tossed his head, and strode after the quickly vanishing Grimalkin. The Iron faery left a faint path of destruction in his wake; branches curled away from him, plants withered and grass shriveled under his feet, leaving burned-out hoofprints on the trail. Shaking his head, Puck muttered something very rude under his breath and followed, leading us deeper into the wyldwood.

CHAPTER ELEVEN The Briars

Later, after a night of following Grimalkin through increasingly thick forest, I decided that some questions are better left unanswered.

“The Briars,” Puck began, keeping a wary eye on Ironhorse walking in front of us, “or Brambles or Thorns, or whatever you want to call it, is a maze. No one knows how big it really is, but it’s huge. Some say it encircles the entire Nevernever. There are rumors that if you’re in the wyldwood and start walking in any direction, you’ll eventually hit the Briars. You can find patches growing most anywhere, from the Greatwood and the Venom Swamps, to the courts of Arcadia and Tir Na Nog.”

“Like the Hedge,” I murmured, remembering the tunnel of thorns in Oberon’s court and the brambly escape route Grimalkin had used to get us out of Faery. The bramble wall surrounding the Seelie Court had opened for the cat, revealing a maze of tunnels in the thorns, and I’d followed him as he led me back to the mortal world.

Puck nodded. “That’s another name for it. Though the Hedge is a tamer version of the real Briars. In Arcadia, the Hedge responds fairly consistently, taking you wherever you want to go within the court. Out here, in the wyldwood, the Briars are rather…sadistic.”

“You make it sound like they’re alive.”

Puck gave me a very eerie stare. “They are alive, Princess,” he warned in a low voice. “Not in the way that we’re accustomed to, but do not take them lightly. The Briars are a force, one that cannot be tamed or understood, even by Oberon or Mab. And they’re always hungry. It’s easy to get in—getting out is the tricky part. Not only that, but the things that live in the Briars are always hungry, too.”

I felt a chill run all the way down my spine. “And we’re going through the Briars…why?”

“Because the Briars have the greatest concentration of trods in all the Nevernever,” Puck replied. “There are doors hidden throughout the Briars, some constantly shifting, some only appearing at a special time under special circumstances. Rumors are that, within the Briars, there is a trod to every doorway in the mortal realm, from an L.A. strip club to some kid’s bedroom closet. Find the right door, and you’re home free.” The grin grew wider, and he shook his head. “But you have to get to it first.”

RAIN HISSED through the branches of the trees, a cold, gray rain that leeched color from everything it touched. Even Puck’s bright auburn hair turned dull and colorless in the misty deluge. He’d rake his fingers through it, streaking his hair with red, only to have the rain soak through it once more, bleaching away the color. Grimalkin was nearly invisible; not even his eyes glimmered in the gloom.

Above us, the massive wall of black thorns rose into the air, tendrils creaking and curling about. Some of the thorns were longer than me, waving about like the spines of a sea urchin, and the whole thing bristled with eerie menace.

I shivered, even standing close to Ironhorse and the smoldering heat radiating from him. The Iron faery steamed in the rain, surrounded by writhing smoke, as water struck his hot metal skin and sizzled away. Ironhorse gazed up at the wall of thorns, craning his neck to stare at it, billowing like a small geyser in the storm.

“How do we get through?” I wondered.

No sooner were the words out of my mouth than the wall shifted. Branches creaked and moaned as they peeled away to reveal a narrow, spiky corridor through the thorns. Mist curled out of the hallway, and the space beyond was choked in shadow.

Puck crossed his arms. “Looks like we’re expected.” He looked down at Grimalkin, a gray ghost in the mist, calmly washing his front paws. “You sure you can get us through, cat?”

Grimalkin gave one paw a few more licks before standing up. Shaking himself so that water flew everywhere, he yawned, stretched and trotted forward without looking back. “Follow me and find out” were his last words before he vanished into the tunnel.

Puck rolled his eyes. Holding out his hand, he gave me an encouraging smile. “Come on, Princess. Don’t want to get separated in here.” I clasped his hand, and he curled his fingers tight around mine. “Let’s go, then. Rusty can bring up the rear. That way, if we’re jumped from behind, we won’t lose anything important.”

I felt Ironhorse’s indignant snort as we entered the tunnel, and I pressed closer to Puck as the shadows closed in on us like grasping fingers. Around us, the corridor pulsed with life, slithering, creaking, unfurling with faint hissing sounds. Whispers and strange voices drifted down the hallway, murmuring words I couldn’t quite understand. As we stepped in farther, the hole behind us shut with a quiet hiss, trapping us within the Briars.

“This way,” came Grimalkin’s disembodied voice up ahead. “Try to stay close.”

The bristly walls of the corridor seemed to press in on us. Puck didn’t release my hand, but we had to walk single file through the tunnel to avoid behind scratched. A couple times, I thought I saw a thorn or creeper actually move toward me, as if to prick my skin or catch my clothes. Once, I glanced back at Ironhorse to see how he was faring, but the thorns, much like the rest of the Nevernever, seemed loath to touch the great Iron fey, curling back from him as he passed.

The tunnel finally opened up into a small hollow with tunnels and paths twisting off in all directions. Overhead, the canopy of bramble shut out the light, so thick you couldn’t see the sky through the cracks. Bones lay here and there among the thorns, bleached white and gleaming in the darkness. A skull grinned at me from a tangle of brambles, empty eye sockets crawling with worms. I shuddered and turned my face into Puck’s shoulder.

“Where’s Grim?” I whispered.

“Here,” Grimalkin said, appearing out of nowhere. The cat leaped atop a large skull and regarded each of us in turn. “We are going deep into the Briars now,” he stated in a calm, very soft voice. “I would tell you what we might face, but perhaps it is better that I do not. Try to be silent. Do not separate. Do not go down another path. And stay away from any doors you come across. Many of the gates here are a one-way trip; go through one and you might not be able to go back. Are you ready?”

I raised my hand. “How do you know your way around this place, Grim?”

Grimalkin blinked. “I am a cat,” he said, and vanished down one of the tunnels.

WHEN I WAS TWELVE, my school took a field trip to a “haunted” corn maze on the outskirts of town, a week or so before Halloween. Sitting on the bus, listening to the boys brag about who would find his way out first, and the girls giggling in their own little groups, I made my own vow that I would do just as well. I remember walking down the rows of corn all by myself, feeling a thrill of both fear and excitement as I tried finding my way to the center and back again. And I remembered the sinking feeling in my gut when I knew I was lost, when I realized no one would help me, that I was alone.

This was ten thousand times worse.

The Briars were never still. They were always moving, slithering, reaching for you out of the corner of your eye. Sometimes, if you listened just right, you could almost hear them whisper your name. Deep within the tangled darkness, twigs snapped and branches rustled as things moved through the brambles. I never got a clear look, just glimpsed dark shapes shuffling away into the undergrowth. It creeped me out. Big-time.

The Briars went on, an endless maze of twisted thorns and gnarled branches, shifting, creaking and reaching out for us. As we ventured ever deeper, doors, frames and archways began appearing at odd intervals in completely random places. A faded red door hung perilously from an overhead branch, a tarnished 216 glimmering in the dim light. A filthy restroom stall, cracked and shedding green paint, stood near the edge of the path, so wrapped in thorns that it would be impossible to push the door open. Something lean and black slithered across our path and vanished through an open closet. As it creaked shut, I caught a glimpse of a child’s bedroom through the frame, and a crib outlined in moonlight, before thorny vines curled around the door and pulled it back into the Briars.

Grimalkin never hesitated, leading us on without a backward glance, passing gates and doors and strange, random things stuck in the tangled web of thorns. A mirror, a doll and an empty golf bag dangled from the branches as we walked by, as well as the countless bones and sometimes full skeletons that littered the trail. Strange creatures watched us from the shadows, mostly unseen, just their eyes glowing in the dark. Black birds with human faces perched in the branches, observing us silently as we passed, like waiting vultures. At one point, Grimalkin pulled us all into a side tunnel, hissing at us to be quiet and not move. Moments later, a massive spider, easily the size of a car, crawled over the brambles directly overhead, and I bit my lip so hard that I tasted blood. Huge and shiny, with a splash of red across its bloated abdomen, it paused a moment, as if sensing warm blood and fluids were very close, waiting for the slightest tremor to betray its quarry.

We held our breath and pretended to be stone.

For several heart-pounding seconds, we crouched in the tunnel, feeling our muscles cramp and our hearts thud too loud in our chests. Above us, the spider sat perfectly still as well, patiently waiting for its prey to grow bored, to assume it was safe and make the first move that would be its last. Eventually, something rustled in the branches ahead, and it darted away, frighteningly quick for something that huge. The scream of some unfortunate creature pierced the air, and then silence.

For a few moments after the spider left, no one dared to move. Eventually, Grimalkin crept forward, poking his head out warily, scanning the thorns.

“Wait here,” he told us. “I will see if it is safe.” Slipping into the shadows like a ghost, he disappeared.

I sagged to my knees as the adrenaline wore off and my muscles started to shake, leaving me weak and nearly hyperventilating. I could handle goblins and bogeymen and evil, flesh-eating horses, but giant freaking spiders? That’s where I drew the line.

Puck knelt and put a hand on my shoulder. “You okay, Princess?”

I nodded, ready to make some snarky comment about the pest problem around here. But then, one of the thorns moved.

Frowning, I bent closer, squinting my eyes. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the three-inch barb shivered and unfurled into a pair of pointed black wings, attached to a tiny faery with glittering eyes that glared with insectlike menace. Its spindly body was covered by a shiny black carapace. Spikes grew from its elbows and shoulders, and it clutched a thorn-tipped spear in one tiny claw. As we stared at each other, the faery curled its lip, revealing teeth as sharp as needles, and flew at my face.

I jerked back, swatting wildly, and hit Puck, causing us both to tumble back. The faery dodged my flailing hands, buzzing around us like an angry wasp. I saw it pause, hovering in the air like an evil hummingbird, then streak forward with a raspy cry.

A gout of flame seared the air in front of me. I felt the blast of heat on my face, bringing tears to my eyes, and the faery disappeared into the fire. Its tiny, charred body dropped like a stone to the earth, curling in on itself, the delicate black wings seared away. It gave an insectlike twitch, then was still.

Ironhorse tossed his head and snorted, looking pleased as smoke curled from his nostrils. Puck grimaced as he pushed himself to his feet, holding out a hand to help me up.

“You know, I’m really starting to hate the insect life around here,” he muttered. “Next time, remind me to bring a can of Off!”

“You didn’t have to kill it,” I told Ironhorse, dusting off my pants. “It was like three inches tall!”

“IT ATTACKED YOU.” Ironhorse sounded puzzled, cocking his head at me. “IT CLEARLY HAD AGGRESSIVE INTENT. MY MISSION IS TO PROTECT YOU UNTIL WE RETRIEVE THE SCEPTER. I WILL ALLOW NOTHING TO BRING YOU HARM. THAT IS MY SOLEMN VOW.”

“Yeah, but you don’t need a machine gun to kill a fly.”

“Human!” Grimalkin appeared, bounding up with his ears flattened to his head. “You are making too much noise. All of you are. We must leave this area, quickly.” He glanced about, and the fur on his back started to rise. “It might already be too late.”

“Ironhorse killed this teensy little faery—” I began, but Grimalkin hissed at me.

“Idiot human! Do you think that was the only one? Look around you!”

I did, and my heart nearly stopped. The thorns around us were moving, hundreds upon hundreds of them, unfurling into tiny faeries with pointed, gnashing teeth. The air filled with the sound of buzzing, and thousands of tiny black eyes glimmered through the thorns.

“Oh, this isn’t good,” Puck murmured as the buzz grew louder, more frantic. “I really, really wish I had that Off!”

“Run!” spit Grimalkin, and we ran.

The faeries swarmed around us, the hum of their wings vibrating the air, their high-pitched voices shrieking in my ears. I felt the weight of their tiny bodies on my skin, an instant before the stings, and flailed wildly, trying to dislodge them. Puck snarled something unintelligible, swiping at them with his knives, and Ironhorse blasted flame from his mouth and nostrils, roaring. Charred, dismembered faeries dropped shrieking from the air, but dozens more buzzed in to take their place. Grimalkin, of course, had vanished. We charged blindly down a tunnel of thorns, through swarms of furious killer wasp-fey, with no clue of where we were going.

As I rounded a corner, a body appeared right in front of me. I had no time to react before I crashed into it, and we both went sprawling.

“Ow! What the hell!” someone yelped.

Swatting faeries, I looked into the face of a girl a year or two younger than me. She was tiny and Asian, with hair that looked as if she’d taken a machete to it, wearing a ratty sweater two sizes too big. For a second, my mind went blank with the shock at seeing another human, until I saw the furry ears peeking out of her hair.

We blinked at each other for a second, before the sting from a killer-wasp faerie snapped me out of my daze. Flailing, I scrambled to my feet as the swarm buzzed around the strange girl as well. She yelped and swatted wildly, backing away.

“What is this?” she hissed, as Puck came up behind me and Ironhorse charged in, blowing flame. “Who the hell are you people? Oh, never mind! Run!” She darted past us, looking back once to shout “Hurry up, Nelson!” over her shoulder. I barely had time to wonder who Nelson was when a kid built like a linebacker barreled through us, somehow dodging Puck and Ironhorse, and pounded after the girl. I caught a glimpse of gorillalike shoulders, muddy blond hair, and skin as green as swamp water. He clutched a backpack in his arms like a football and charged down the trail without a backward glance.

“Who were they?” I asked, over the buzzing of the swarm and my own frantic flailing.

“No time,” Puck said, slapping at a faery on his neck. “Ow! Dammit, we have to get out of here! Come on!”

We had started down the path again when a roar shook the air ahead of us, causing the swarm of killer fey to freeze in midair. It came again, guttural and savage, as something rattled the wall of thorns, coming toward us with the sound of snapping wood. I sensed hundreds of creatures in the brambles fleeing for their lives.

The faeries scattered. Buzzing in terror, they vanished into the hedge, through cracks and tiny spaces between the thorns. In seconds, the whole swarm had disappeared. I peered through the branches and saw something coming down the trail, ripping through the wall of thorns like it wasn’t there. Something black and scaly, and much, much bigger than the spider.

Is that what I think it is?

“Thiiiief!” roared a deep, inhuman voice, before a gout of flame burst through the hedge, setting an entire section on fire, making the air explode with heat. Ironhorse bugled, rearing up in alarm. Puck cursed, grabbed my arm, and yanked me back the way we came.

We fled down the trail after the strange girl and her muscle-necked companion, feeling the heat from the monster’s fire at our backs. “Thieves!” the terrible voice snarled, staying right on our heels. “I can smell you! I can feel your breath and hear your hearts. Give me back what is mine!”

“Great,” Puck panted, as Ironhorse cantered beside us, bellowing that he would shield me from the flames. “Just great. I hate spiders. I hate wasps. But, you know what I hate even more than that?”

The thing behind us roared, and another blast of flame seared the branches overhead. I winced as we ran beneath a rain of cinders and flaming twigs. “Dragons?” I gasped.

“Remind me to kill Grimalkin next time we see him.”

The trail narrowed, then shrank down to a tight, thorny tunnel that twisted off into the darkness. Bending down and peering into it, I could just make out a door at the end of the burrow. And, I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw the door shut.

“I think I see a door!” I called, looking over my shoulder. Puck nodded impatiently.

“Well, what are you waiting for, Princess! Go!”

“What about Ironhorse?”

“He’ll have to squeeze!” Puck pushed me toward the mouth, but I resisted. “Come on, Princess. We don’t want to be in the middle of that if Deathbreath decides to sneeze on us.”

“We can’t leave him behind!”

“WORRY NOT, PRINCESS,” Ironhorse said, and I gaped at him, not believing my eyes. Where a horse had been, now a man stood before me, dark and massive, with a square jaw and fists the size of hams. He wore jeans and a black shirt that bulged with all the muscles underneath, the skin stretched tight over steely tendons. Dreadlocks spilled from his scalp like a mane, and his eyes still burned with that intense red glow. “YOU ARE NOT THE ONLY ONE WITH A FEW TRICKS UP YOUR SLEEVE, GOODFELLOW,” he said, a faint smirk beneath his voice. “NOW, GO. I WILL BE RIGHT BEHIND YOU.”

With a horrible cracking sound, the dragon’s head rose above the briars on a long, snaking neck, looming to an impossible height. It was bigger than I’d imagined, a long toothy maw covered in black-green scales, ivory horns curling back from its skull to frame the sky. Alien, red-gold eyes scanned the ground impassively, gleaming with cunning and intelligence. “I see you, little thieves.”

Puck gave me a shove, and I tumbled into the burrow, scratching my hands and knees and jabbing myself on the thorns. Cursing, I looked up and saw two familiar golden eyes floating before me in the dark.

“Hurry, human,” Grimalkin hissed, and fled down the burrow.

The tunnel seemed to shrink the farther I went, scraping my back and catching my hair and clothes as I followed Grimalkin, bent over like a crab. I heard Puck and Ironhorse behind me, felt the glare of the dragon’s eye at my back, and cursed as my sleeve caught on a thorn. We were going too slow! The red door loomed at the end of the tunnel, a beacon of light and safety, so far away. But as I got closer, I saw Grimalkin standing in front of it, ears flattened against his skull, hissing and baring his teeth.

“Saint-John’s-wort,” he snarled, and I saw a cluster of dried yellow flowers hanging on the door like tiny sunbursts. “The fey cannot enter with that on the door. Take it down, quickly, human!”

“Burn, little thieves!”

Fire exploded down the tunnel, writhing and twisting in a maelstrom of heat and fury, shooting toward us. I ripped the flowers off the door and dove through, Puck and Ironhorse toppling in after me. Flames shot over my head, singeing my back as I lay gasping on a cold cement floor. Then, the door slammed shut, cutting off the fire, and we were plunged into darkness.

CHAPTER TWELVE Leanansidhe

For a few moments, I lay there on the concrete, my body curiously hot and cold at the same time. My neck, my shoulders, and the backs of my legs burned from the fire that had come way too close for comfort. But my cheek and stomach pressed into the cold cement, making me shiver. To either side of me, Puck and Ironhorse struggled to their feet with muffled curses and groans.

“Well, that was fun,” Puck muttered, helping me stand. “I swear, if I ever see those two kids again, we’re going to have a little chat. If you’re going to steal from a fifty-foot, fire-breathing lizard with the memory of an elephant, you’d better have a damn impressive riddle, or you wait until it isn’t home. And who the hell put Saint-John’s-wort over the door? I’m feeling very unwelcome right now.”

A flashlight clicked on in the shadows, blinding me. Shielding my eyes, I counted three silhouettes at the end of the beam. Two I recognized; the tiny girl with furry ears and the green-skinned boy we’d met in the Briars. The last, the one holding the flashlight, was tall and skinny, with thick dark hair, a scraggly goatee, and two ridged horns curling up from his brow. He held a cross in the other hand, raised in front of his face like he was warding off a vampire.

Puck laughed. “Hate to break it to you, kid, but unless you’re a priest, that isn’t going to work. Neither is the salt you have poured across the floor. I’m not your average bogey.”

“Damn faeries,” spit goatee boy, looking pale. “How did you get in here? You’d better leave right now, if you know what’s good for you. She’ll tear your guts out and make harp strings with them.”

“Well, there’s a problem with that,” Puck continued with mock regret. “See, right outside that door is a very pissed off reptile who is eager to turn us into shish kebab, because you three were stupid enough to steal from a dragon.” He sighed and shook his head in a disappointed manner. “You know dragons never forget a thief, don’t you? So, what’d you take?”

“None of your business, faery,” goat boy shot back. “And maybe I wasn’t clear when I said you’re not welcome here.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out three iron nails, holding them between white, shaking knuckles. “Maybe a faceful of iron will convince you otherwise.”

I stepped forward, shooting Puck a warning glare before he could rise to the challenge. “Take it easy,” I soothed, holding up my hands. “We don’t want any trouble. We’re just trying to get through the Briars, that’s all.”

“Warren!” gasped the girl, staring at me wide-eyed. “It’s her!”

All eyes flashed to me.

“It is you,” Warren breathed. “You’re her, aren’t you? Oberon’s half-blood. The Summer princess.”

Ironhorse growled and pressed closer, causing the trio to shrink back. I put a hand on his chest. “How do you know me?”

“She’s looking for you, you know. Got half the exiles looking for you—”

“Whoa, slow down, goat-boy.” Puck held up a hand. “Who is this remarkable she you keep talking about?”

Warren shot him a look that was half fearful, half awe. “Her, of course. The boss of this place. So…if this is Oberon’s daughter, you must be him, aren’t you? Robin Goodfellow? The Puck?” Puck smiled, which caused Warren to swallow noisily. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “But—” he glanced at Ironhorse “—she didn’t say anything about him. Who’s he?”

“Stinks,” rumbled the green-skinned boy, curling his lip to reveal blunt, uneven teeth. “Smells like coal. Like iron.”

Warren’s eyebrows shot up. “Aw, crap. He’s one of them, isn’t he? One of those Iron faeries! She won’t be happy about this.”

“He’s with me,” I said quickly, as Ironhorse drew himself up. “He’s safe, I promise you. And who do you keep talking about? Who is this she?”

“Her name is Leanansidhe,” Warren stated, as if I were an idiot for not figuring it out. “Leanansidhe the Dark Muse. Queen of the Exiles.”

Puck’s eyebrows arched into his hair.

“You’re kidding,” he said, his face caught between a grimace and a smirk. “So, Leanansidhe fancies herself a queen, now? Oh, Titania will love that.”

“Who’s Leanansidhe?” I asked.

The grimace won out. He shook his head and turned to me, his face grim. “Bad news, Princess. At one time, Leanansidhe was one of the most powerful beings in all the Nevernever. The Dark Muse, they called her, because she inspired many great artists, helping them produce their most brilliant works. You might recognize some of the mortals she’s helped—James Dean, Jimi Hendrix, Kurt Cobain.”

“No way.”

Puck shrugged. “But, as you should know, such help always comes with a price. None whom Leanansidhe inspires lives very long, ever. Their lives are brilliant, colorful, and very brief. Sometimes, if the artist was particularly special, she’d take him back to the Nevernever to entertain her for eternity. Or until she got bored. Of course, this was before…” He trailed off, giving me a sideways look.

“Before what?”

“Titania banished her to the mortal realm,” Puck said quickly, as if he was really going to say something else. “According to some, Leanansidhe was growing too powerful, had too many mortals worshipping her, and there was talk that she wanted to make herself queen. Naturally, this made our good Summer Queen more than a little jealous, so she exiled the self-proclaimed Queen of Muse and sealed off all trods to her, so that Leanansidhe could never return to Faery. That was several years ago, and no one has seen or heard from her since.

“But, apparently,” Puck continued, glancing at the three teenagers listening in rapt fascination, “Leanansidhe has a new following. A new little mortal cult ready to throw themselves at her feet.” He smothered a laugh. “Pickings must be pretty slim nowadays.”

“Hey,” said the girl, narrowing her eyes at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Why is Leanansidhe looking for me?” I asked, before an unpleasant thought drifted to mind. “You…you don’t think she wants revenge, for what Titania did to her?” Great. That was all I needed, another faery queen who was out to get me. I must hold some sort of record.

We glared at Warren, who stepped back and raised his hands. “Hey, man. Don’t look at me. I don’t know what she wants. Just that she’s been looking for you.”

“WE CANNOT GO TO THIS LEANANSIDHE NOW,” Ironhorse boomed, making the teens jump and the ceiling rattle. God, he couldn’t speak quietly if his life depended on it. “OUR MISSION IS URGENT. WE MUST GET TO CALIFORNIA AS SOON AS POSSIBLE.”

“Well, we’re not going anywhere now, not with ol’ Deathbreath guarding the only way out.”

“Come with us.”

I looked up. Warren had spoken and was staring at me intently. The eager look in his eyes made me uncomfortable, as did his sudden change in mood. “Come with us to Leanansidhe’s,” he urged. “She could help. You want to go to California? She can get you there, easy—”

“Warren,” said the girl, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him aside. “Come here a second, would you? ’Scuse us a sec, people.” Surprisingly strong for her size, she dragged him into a far corner. Huddled against the wall, they whispered furiously to each other, casting suspicious glances at Ironhorse over their shoulders.

“What are we going to do?” I wondered. “Should we wait until the dragon leaves to find our way back through the Briars? Or should we find out what Leanansidhe wants?”

“NO,” thundered Ironhorse, his voice bouncing off the walls. “I DO NOT TRUST THIS LEANANSIDHE. IT IS TOO DANGEROUS.”

“Puck?”

He shrugged. “Under normal circumstances, I’d agree with the toaster oven,” he said, earning a hard glare from Ironhorse. “Leanansidhe has always been unpredictable, and she has enough power to make that dragon look like a cranky Gila monster. But…I always say the enemy you know is better than the enemy you can’t see.”

I nodded. “I agree. If Leanansidhe is looking for us, I think we should meet her on our own terms. Otherwise, I’d just worry about what she’s sending after us.”

“Besides…” Puck rolled his eyes. “I think we have another problem.”

“What’s that?”

“Our trusty guide has gone AWOL.”

I looked around, but Grimalkin had vanished, and he didn’t respond to my hissed calls for him to show himself. The street kids were watching us now, eager and hesitant at the same time. I sighed. There was no telling where Grimalkin was, or when he’d return. Really, there was just one option.

“So.” I gave them a hopeful smile. “How far is Leanansidhe’s?”

TURNS OUT, we were in the basement of her mansion.

“So, Leanansidhe has you guys steal from dragons?” I asked the girl as we walked down the dimly lit corridors, torchlight flickering over the damp stone walls. Whatever the house looked like, the basement was huge. It reminded me of a medieval dungeon, complete with heavy doors, wooden portcullises, and gargoyles leering at us from the walls. Mice scurried over the floor, and other things moved in the shadows, just out of sight.

The girl, Kimi, grinned at me. “Leanansidhe has lots of clients with very unusual tastes,” she explained. “Most of them are exiles, like her, who can’t go back into the Nevernever for some reason. She uses us—” she gestured to herself and Nelson “—to fetch things she can’t get herself, like that thing with the dragon. Apparently, a banished Winter sidhe in New York is paying a fortune for real dragon eggs.”

“You stole its eggs?”

“Only one.” Kimi giggled at my stunned expression. “Then the stupid lizard woke up and we had to book it.” She giggled again, smoothing down her ears. “Don’t worry, we’re not going to decimate the dragon population. Leanansidhe told us to leave a couple behind.”

Puck made a noise that might’ve been appreciation. “And what do you guys get out of this?”

“Free room and board. And the rep that goes with it. We’d be out on the streets, otherwise.” Kimi and Nelson shared a secret glance, but Warren was staring at me. He’d been doing that since we left to meet Leanansidhe, and it was making me very uncomfortable.

“The pay’s not bad, either,” Kimi went on, oblivious to Warren’s scrutiny. “At least, it’s better than the alternative—being hunted down for what we are, getting stepped on by the exiles and the fey who just like it better in the mortal realm. Leanansidhe’s made it safer for us—you don’t screw around with the queen’s pets. Even the redcap gangs know to leave you alone. For the most part, anyway.”

“Why?” I asked. “You’re exiles, too, right? Why should it be different for you?” I looked at her furry, tufted ears, at Nelson’s swamp-water skin and Warren’s horns. They weren’t human, that much was certain. But then I remembered Warren holding out the iron cross, his fearful damned faeries, how they could get through the door when Grimalkin couldn’t. And I knew what they were even before Kimi said it.

“Because,” she said cheerfully, twitching her ears, “we’re half-breeds. I’m half-phouka, Nelson’s half-troll, and Warren is part-satyr. And if there’s one thing an exile hates more than the fey who banished him, its half-breeds like us.”

I hadn’t thought of that before, though it made sense. I suspected half-breeds like Kimi, Nelson and Warren had it pretty tough. Without Oberon’s protection, they would’ve been left to the whims of the true fey, who probably made life very difficult for them. It wasn’t surprising they would make a deal with this Queen of the Exiles, in exchange for some degree of protection. Even if it meant stealing dragon eggs right out from under the dragon.

“Oh, and by the way,” Kimi went on, with a quick glance at Ironhorse, clanking along behind me. “Leanansidhe knows about…um…his kind. They’ve been killing off lots of exiles lately, and it’s making her mad. Your ‘friend’ should be really careful around her. I don’t know how she’ll take an Iron faery in her living room. I’ve seen her throw a fit for less.”

“Shut up, Kimi,” Warren said abruptly. We had reached the end of the hall, where a bright red door waited for us atop a flight of stairs. “I told you, it’s not a big deal.”

I frowned at him, but something caught my attention. Strains of music drifted down the steps, the low, shivery chords of a piano or organ. The music was dark and haunting, reminding me of a play I’d seen a long time ago, The Phantom of the Opera. I remembered Mom dragging me to the theater when the play came through our little town, shortly before Ethan was born. I remembered thinking I’d have to sit through three hours of absolute boredom and torture, but from the first booming organ chords, I was completely entranced.

I also remembered Mom crying through several of the scenes, something she never did, even with the saddest movies. I didn’t think anything of it then, but it seemed a little odd, now.

We stepped up and through the doorway into a magnificent foyer, with a double grand staircase sweeping toward a high vaulted ceiling and a roaring fireplace surrounded by plush black sofas. The hardwood floor gleamed red, the walls were patterned in red and black, and gauzy black curtains covered the high arched windows near the back of the room. Nearly every clear space on the wall was taken up by paintings—oil paintings, watercolors, black-and-white sketches. The Mona Lisa smiled her odd little smile on the far wall, next to a weird, disjointed painting that was probably Picasso.

Music echoed through the room, dark and haunting piano chords played with such force that they made the air vibrate and my teeth buzz. An enormous grand piano stood in the corner near the fireplace, the flames dancing in the reflection of the polished wood. Hunched over the keys, a figure in a rumpled white shirt beat and pounded the ivory bars, fingers flying.

“Who—?”

“Shh!” Kimi shushed me with a light smack on the arm. “Don’t talk. She doesn’t like it when someone’s playing.”

I fell silent, studying the pianist again. Brown hair hung limp and shaggy on his shoulders, looking as if it hadn’t been washed in days. His shoulders were broad, though his shirt hung loose on a lean, bony frame that was so thin his spine pressed tightly against his skin.

The song ended with one last, vibrating chord. As the notes faded and silence descended on the room, the man remained hunched over the keys. I couldn’t see his face, but I thought his eyes were closed, and his muscles trembled as if from exertion. He seemed to be waiting for something. I looked to the others, wondering if we should applaud.

A slow clapping came from the top of the stairs. I looked up and saw none other than Grimalkin, sitting on the railing with his tail around his feet, looking perfectly at home. Any annoyance I felt with him disappeared at the sight of his companion.

A woman stood on the balcony, her gold and crimson gown billowing around her, though I was sure there’d been no one there a second ago. Her wavy, waist-length hair shimmered like strands of copper, almost too bright to look at, floating around her face as if it weighed nothing at all. She was pale and tall and magnificent, every inch a queen, and I felt my stomach contract. Forget Arcadia or Tir Na Nog; we were in her court now, playing by her rules. I wondered if she expected us to bow.

“Bravo, Charles.” Her voice was pure song, made of poetry given sound, of every creative notion you’ve ever had. Hearing it, I felt I could sweep onto a stage and bring the masses roaring and screaming to their feet. “That was quite magnificent. You can go now.”

The man rose shakily to his feet, grinning like a little kid whose finger painting had been praised by the teacher. He was younger than my stepdad, but not by much, the hint of a beard shadowing his mouth and jaw. When he turned and spotted us, I shivered. His face and hazel eyes were blank of reason, as empty as the sky.

“Poor bastard,” I heard Puck mutter. “He’s been here awhile, hasn’t he?”

The man blinked at me, dazed for a moment, but then his eyes grew wide. “You,” he muttered, shambling forward, jabbing at me with a finger. I frowned. “I know you. Don’t I? Don’t I? Who are you? Who?” He frowned, an anguished expression crossing his face. “The rats whisper in the darkness,” he said, clutching at his hair. “They whisper. I can’t remember their names. They tell me…” His eyes narrowed and he panted, glaring at me. “Rag girl, flying round my bed. Who are you? Who?” This last was a shout, and he lurched forward.

Ironhorse stepped between us with a rumbling growl, and the man leaped back, hands flying to his face. “No,” he whimpered, cringing on the floor, arms cradling his head. “No one in here. Empty empty empty. Who am I? I don’t know. The rats tell me, but I forget.”

“That is enough.” Leanansidhe floated down the staircase, her gown trailing behind her. Sweeping up to the human, she touched him lightly on the head. “Charles, darling, I have guests now,” she murmured, as he gazed up at her with teary eyes. “Why don’t you take a bath, and then you can play for us at dinner?”

Charles sniffled. “Girl,” he whimpered, clutching at his hair. “In my head.”

“Yes, I know, darling. But if you don’t leave, I’ll have to turn you into a harp. Go on, now. Shoo, shoo.” She made little fluttery motions with her hands, and with one final glance at me, the man scuttled away.

Leanansidhe sighed and turned to us, then seemed to notice the trio for the first time. “Ah, there you are.” She smiled, and their faces lit up in the glow of her attention. “Did you manage to get the eggs, darlings?”

Warren snatched the backpack from Nelson’s arm and held it out. “We found the nest, Leanansidhe. It was just where you said. But the dragon woke up then, and…” He unzipped the pack, revealing a yellow-green egg the size of a basketball. “We were only able to get one.”

“One?” Leanansidhe frowned, and shadows fell over the room. “Only one? I need at least two, pets, or the deal is off. The former Duke of Frostfell specifically said a pair of eggs. How many is in a pair, darling?”

“T-two,” Warren stammered.

“Well, then. I’d say you still have work to do. Go on, now. Chop-chop. And don’t come back without those eggs!”

The trio fled without hesitation, following the human out the same door. Leanansidhe watched them go, then whirled on us with a bright, feral smile. “Well! Here we are at last. When Grimalkin told me you were coming, I was ever so pleased. It’s so good to finally meet you.”

Grimalkin descended the stairs with his typical indifference, completely unfazed by the Death Glares coming from me and Puck. Leaping onto a sofa, he sat down and began grooming his tail.

“And Puck!” Leanansidhe turned to him, clasping her hands in delight. “I haven’t seen you in forever, darling. How is Oberon these days? Still being henpecked by that basilisk of a wife?”

“Don’t insult the basilisks,” Puck replied, smiling. Crossing his arms, he gazed around the room, moving ever so slightly in front of me. “So, Lea, looks like you’ve been busy. What’s up with the crazies and the half-bloods? Building an army of misfits?”

“Don’t be silly, darling.” Leanansidhe sniffed, plucking a cigarette holder from a lamp stand. She took a puff and blew a hazy green cloud over our heads. It writhed and twisted into a smoky dragon before dissipating in the air. “My coup days are behind me, now. I’ve made a nice little realm for myself here, and overthrowing a court is so tedious. However, I’d ask you not to tell Titania that you found me, darling. If you went and blabbed, I might have to rip out your tongue.” She smiled, examining a bloodred nail, as Puck inched closer to me. “Also, Robin dear, you needn’t worry about protecting the girl. I mean her no harm. The Iron faery I might have to dismember and send its remains to Asia—” Ironhorse tensed and took a step forward “—but I have no intention of hurting the daughter of Oberon. So relax, pet. That’s not why I called her here.”

“Ironhorse is with me,” I said quickly, putting a hand on his arm before he did something stupid. “He won’t hurt anything, I promise.”

Leanansidhe turned the full brunt of her glittering sapphire gaze on me. “You’re so cute, did you know that? You look just like your father. No wonder Titania can’t stand to look at you. What’s your name, darling?”

“Meghan.”

She smiled, vicious and challenging, appraising me. “And what’s a cutie like you going to do if I want that abomination out of my home? That’s quite the binding you’ve got there, dove. I doubt you can scrape up the glamour to light my cigarette.”

I swallowed. This was a test. If I was going to save Ironhorse, I couldn’t falter. Steeling myself, I looked into those cold blue eyes, ancient and remorseless, and held her gaze. “Ironhorse is one of my companions,” I said softly. “I need him, so I can’t let you hurt him. I’ll make a deal with you, if that’s what it takes, but he stays here. He’s not your enemy, and he won’t hurt you or anyone under your protection. You have my word.”

“I know that, darling.” Leanansidhe continued to hold my stare, smiling all the while. “I’m not worried about the Iron faery harming me. I’m worried I won’t be able to get his stink out of my carpets. But, no matter.” She straightened, releasing me from her gaze. “You’ve given your word, and I’ll hold you to that. Now, come darling. Dinner first, then we can talk. Oh, and please tell your iron pet not to touch anything while he’s here. I don’t want him melting the glamour.”

WE FOLLOWED Leanansidhe down several long corridors carpeted in red and black velvet, past portraits whose eyes seemed to follow us as we walked by. Leanansidhe didn’t stop talking, a mindless, bubbly stream, as she led us through her home, spouting names, places and creatures I didn’t recognize. But I couldn’t stop listening to the sound of her voice, even if all I heard was chipmunk chatter. In my peripheral vision, I caught glimpses of rooms through half-opened doors, drenched in shadow or strange, flickering lights. Sometimes, I thought the rooms looked weird, as if there were trees growing out of the floor, or schools of fish swimming through the air. But Leanansidhe’s voice cut through my curiosity, and I couldn’t take my eyes from her, even for a closer look.

We entered a vast dining hall, where a long table took up most of the left wall, surrounded by chairs of glass and wood. Candelabra floated down the length of the surface, hovering over a feast that could feed an army. Platters of meat and fish, raw fruits and vegetables, tiny cakes, candies, bottles of wine, and a huge roast pig with an apple in its mouth as the centerpiece. Except for the flickering candlelight, the room was pitch-black, and I could hear things scurrying about, muttering in the darkness.

Leanansidhe breezed into the room, trailing smoke from her cigarette, and stood at the head of the table. “Come, darlings,” she called, beckoning us with the back of her gloved hand. “You look famished. Sit. Eat. And please don’t be so rude as to think the food glamoured or enchanted. What kind of host do you think I am?” She sniffed, as though the very thought annoyed her, and looked away into the shadows. “Excuse me,” she called, as we cautiously moved toward the table. “Minions? I have guests, and you are making me look impolite. I will not be pleased if my reputation is soured, darlings.”

Movement in the shadows, muttering and low shuffles, as a group of little men edged into the light. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. They were redcaps, evil-eyed and shark-toothed, with their hats dipped in the blood of their victims, but they were also dressed in matching butler suits with pink bow ties. Sullen and scowling, they emerged from the darkness, glaring for all they were worth. Laugh and die, their eyes warned, but Puck took one look at them and started cracking up. The redcaps glared at him like they were going to bite his head off.

One of them caught sight of Ironhorse and let out a piercing hiss that sent all of them scrambling back. “Iron!” he screeched, baring his jagged fangs. “That’s one of them stinking Iron faeries! Kill it! Kill it now!”

Ironhorse roared, and Puck’s dagger flashed out, a devilish grin stretching his face at the thought of violence. The redcaps surged forward, snarling and gnashing their teeth, just as eager. I grabbed a silver knife from the table and held it ready as the redcaps lunged forward. One of them leaped onto the table, gathering his short legs under him to launch himself at us, fangs gleaming.

“That is enough!”

We froze. It was impossible not to. Even the redcap on the table locked up, then fell into a bowl of fruit salad.

Leanansidhe stood at the end of the table, glowering at us all. Her eyes glowed amber, her hair whipped away from her face, and the candelabra flames danced wildly. For a heart-stopping moment, she stood there, alien and terrifying. Then she sighed, smoothed back her hair and reached for her cigarette holder, taking a long drag. As she blew out the smoke, things returned to normal, including our ability to move, but no one, least of all the redcaps, had any aggressive thoughts left.

“Well?” she finally said, looking to the redcaps as if nothing had happened. “What are you minions standing about for? My seat isn’t going to move itself.”

The largest redcap, a burly fellow with a bone fishhook through his nose, shook himself and crept forward, pulling Leanansidhe’s chair away from the table. The others followed suit, looking like they’d rather beat us to death with our own arms, but wordlessly drew out our chairs. The one attending Ironhorse growled and bared his teeth at the Iron faery, then darted away as quickly as he could.

“I apologize for the minions,” Leanansidhe said when we were all seated. She touched her fingers to her temple, as if she had a headache. “It’s so hard to find good help these days, darlings. You have no idea.”

“I thought I recognized them,” Puck said, casually reaching for a pear near the center of the table. “Isn’t the leader Razor Dan, or something like that? Caused a bit of a stir during the Goblin Wars, when they tried selling information to both sides?”

“Nasty business, darling.” Leanansidhe snapped her fingers twice, and a brownie melted out of the darkness with a wine flute and a bottle, scrambling onto a stool to fill her glass. “Everyone knows you don’t cheat the goblin tribes if you know what’s good for you. Like poking a stick down an ant nest.” She sipped the wine the brownie poured her and sighed. “They came to me for asylum, after pissing off every goblin tribe in the wyldwood, so I put them to work. That’s the rule here, darling. You stay, you work.”

I glanced in the direction the redcaps left, feeling their hateful gaze staring out from the darkness. “But aren’t you afraid they’ll get mad and eat someone?”

“Not if they know what’s good for them, darling. And you’re not eating anything. Eat.” She gestured at the food, and I suddenly realized how hungry I was. I reached for a platter of tiny frosted cakes, too hungry to care about glamours or enchantments anymore. If I was munching on a toadstool or a grasshopper, so be it. Ignorance is bliss.

“While you’re here,” Leanansidhe continued, smiling as we ate, “you leave all personal vendettas behind. That’s my other rule. I can easily deny them sanctuary, and then where will they be? Back in the mortal realm, dying slowly or fighting it out with the Iron fey who are gradually infesting every town and city in the world. No offense, darling,” she added, smiling at Ironhorse, implying the exact opposite. Staring blindly at the table, Ironhorse didn’t respond. He wasn’t eating anything, and I figured he either didn’t want to be indebted to Leanansidhe, or he didn’t eat regular food. Thankfully, Leanansidhe didn’t seem to notice. “Most choose not to take the risk,” she went on, stabbing her cigarette holder in the direction the redcaps had fled. “Take the minions, for example. Every so often, one will poke his nose back in the mortal realm, get it hacked off by some goblin mercenary, and come crawling back to me. Exiles, half-breeds and outcasts alike. I’m their only safe haven between the Nevernever and the mortal world.”

“Which begs the question,” Puck asked, almost too casually. “Where are we, anyway?”

“Ah, pet.” Leanansidhe smiled at him, but it was a frightening thing, cold and vicious. “I was wondering when you would ask that. And if you think you should run and tattle on me to your masters, don’t bother. I’ve done nothing wrong. I haven’t broken my exile. This is my realm, yes, but Titania can relax. It doesn’t intrude upon hers in any way.”

“Okay, totally not the question I asked.” Puck paused with an apple in hand, raising an eyebrow. “And I think I’m even more alarmed now. Where are we, Lea?”

“The Between, darling.” Leanansidhe leaned back, sipping her wine. “The veil between the Nevernever and the mortal realm. Surely you’ve realized that by now.”

Both Puck’s eyebrows shot up into his hair. “The Between? The Between is full of nothing, or so I was led to believe. Those who get stuck Between usually go insane in very short order.”

“Yes, I’ll admit, it was difficult to work with at first.” Leanansidhe waved her hand airily. “But, enough about me, darlings. Let’s talk about you.” She took a drag on her cigarette and blew a smoky fish over the table. “Why were you tromping around the Briars when my streetrats found you? I thought you were looking for the Scepter of the Seasons, and you certainly won’t find it down there, darlings. Unless you think Bellatorallix is sitting on it.”

I started. Ironhorse jerked up, sending a bowl of grapes clattering to the floor. Brownies appeared from nowhere, scurrying to recover the lost fruit as it rolled about the tile. Leanansidhe raised a slender eyebrow and took another drag on her cigarette as we recovered.

“You knew?” I stared at her, as the brownies set the bowl on the table again and scampered off. “You knew about the scepter?”

“Darling, please.” Leanansidhe gave me a half scornful, half patronizing look. “I know everything that happens within the courts. I find it unforgivable to be so out of the loop, and it’s terribly boring here otherwise. My informants clue me in on all the important details.”

“Spies, you mean,” Puck said.

“Such a dirty word, darling.” Leanansidhe tsked at him. “And it doesn’t matter now. What matters is what I can tell you. I know the scepter was stolen from under Mab’s nose, I know Summer and Winter are about to go to a bloody war over it, and I know that the scepter is not in the Nevernever but in the mortal realm. And—” she took a long drag on her cigarette and sent a hawk soaring over our heads “—I can help you find it.”

I was instantly suspicious, and I could tell Ironhorse and Puck felt the same. “Why?” I demanded. “What’s in it for you?”

Leanansidhe looked at me, and a shadow crept into her voice, making it dark and ominous. “Darling, I’ve seen what’s been happening in the mortal realm. Unlike Oberon and Mab, who hide in their safe little courts, I know the reality pressing in on us from every side. The Iron fey are getting stronger. They’re everywhere: in computers, crawling out of television screens, massing in factories. I have more exiles under my roof now than I’ve had in the past century. They’re terrified, unwilling to walk in the mortal realm any longer, because the Iron fey are tearing them apart.”

I shuddered, and Ironhorse had gone very still. Leanansidhe paused, and nothing could be heard except the faint skittering of things unseen in the pressing darkness.

“If Summer and Winter go to war, and the Iron fey attack, there will be nothing left. If the Iron fey win, the Nevernever will become uninhabitable. I don’t know what that will do to the Between, but I’m sure it will be quite fatal for me. So you see, darling,” Leanansidhe said, taking a sip of wine, “it would be advantageous for me to help you. And since I have eyes and ears everywhere within the mortal realm, it would be prudent of you to accept.”

Ironhorse shifted, then spoke for the first time. To his credit, he tried to keep his voice down, but even then it echoed around the room. “YOUR OFFER IS APPRECIATED,” he rumbled, “BUT WE ALREADY KNOW WHERE THE SCEPTER IS LOCATED.”

“Do you now?” Leanansidhe shot him a vicious smile. “Where?”

“SILICON VALLEY.”

“Lovely. Where in Silicon Valley, pet?”

A pause. “I DO NOT—”

“And how do you plan on getting to the scepter once you find it, darling? Walk in the front door?”

Ironhorse glowered at her. “I WILL FIND A WAY.”

“I see.” Leanansidhe gave him a scornful look. “Well, let me tell you what I know about Silicon Valley, pet, so the princess has an idea of what she’s up against. It’s the gremlins’ spawning ground. You know, those nasty little things that crawl out of computers and other machines. There are literally thousands of them down there, perhaps hundreds of thousands, as well as some very powerful Iron fey who would turn you into bloody strips as soon as look at you. You go down there without a plan, darling, and you’re walking into a death trap. Besides, you’re already too late.” Leanansidhe snapped her fingers, holding out her glass for more wine. “I’ve been keeping tabs on the scepter’s movements ever since I heard it was stolen. It was being held in a large office building in San Jose, but my spies tell me it’s been moved. Apparently, someone already tried to get in and steal it back, but didn’t quite succeed. Now, the building has been cleared out, and the scepter is gone.”

“Ash,” I whispered, glancing at Puck. “It had to be Ash.” Puck looked doubtful, so I turned back to Leanansidhe, a cold desperation spreading through my stomach. “What happened to him, the one who tried to take the scepter? Where is he now?”

“I’ve no idea, pet. Ash, you say? Am I right in assuming this is Mab’s Ash, the darling of the Unseelie Court?”

“We have to find him!” I stood up, causing Puck and Ironhorse to blink at me. “He could be in trouble. He needs our help.” I turned to Leanansidhe. “Could you get your spies to look for him?”

“I could, dove.” Leanansidhe twiddled her cigarette lighter. “But I’m afraid I have more important things to find. We’re after the scepter, remember, darling? The prince of the Winter Court, scrumptious though he is, will have to wait.”

“Ash is fine, Princess,” Puck added, dismissing the idea immediately. “He can take care of himself.”

I sat back down, anger and worry flooding my brain. What if Ash wasn’t fine? What if he’d been captured, and they were torturing him, like they had in Machina’s realm? What if he was hurt, lying in a gutter somewhere, waiting for me? I became so worked up over Ash, I barely heard what Puck and Leanansidhe were discussing, and a small part of me didn’t care.

“What do you suggest, Lea?” This from Puck.

“Let my people search the valley. I know a sluah who is simply fabulous at finding things that don’t want to be found. I’ve sent for him today. In the meantime, I have all my minions scouring the streets, keeping their heads down and their ears to the ground. They’ll turn up something, eventually.”

“Eventually?” I glared at her. “What are we supposed to do until then?”

Leanansidhe smiled and blew me a smoke rabbit. “I suggest you get comfortable, darling.”

It wasn’t a request.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN Charles and the Redcaps

I hate waiting. I hate standing around with nothing to do, cooling my heels until someone gives me the go-ahead to move. I hated it while I was at the Winter Court, and I certainly didn’t like it now, in Leanansidhe’s mansion, waiting for complete strangers to bring word of the missing scepter. To make things worse, there were no clocks anywhere in the mansion and, even weirder, no windows to see the outside world. Also, as most faeries did, Leanansidhe hated technology, so that of course meant no television, computers, phones, video games, anything to make time pass more quickly. Not even a radio, although the crazy humans wandering the mansion would often spontaneously burst into song, or start playing some kind of instrument, so the house was never without noise. The few exiled fey I saw either fled my presence or nervously told me that I was not to be bothered, Leanansidhe’s orders. I felt like a mouse trapped in some kind of bizarro labyrinth. Add in my constant worry for Ash, and it started to drive me as crazy as Leanansidhe’s collection of gifted but insane mortals.

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one going nuts.

“THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE,” Ironhorse announced one day—night?—as we lounged in the library, a red-carpeted room with a stone fireplace and bookshelves that soared to the ceiling. With an impressive collection of novels and mostly fashion magazines at my fingertips, I managed to keep myself entertained during the long hours that we waited for Leanansidhe’s spies to turn something up. Today, I was curled on the couch with King’s The Dark Tower series, but it was difficult to concentrate with a restless, impatient Iron faery in the same room. Puck had vanished earlier, probably tormenting the staff or getting into some kind of trouble, and Grimalkin was with Leanansidhe, swapping favors and gossip, which left me alone with Ironhorse, who was getting on my last nerve. He was never still. Even in a human body, he acted like a flighty racehorse, pacing the room and tossing his head so that his dreadlocks clanked against his shoulders. I noticed that even though he wore boots, he still left hoof-shaped burn marks in the carpet, before the glamour of the mansion could smooth it out again.

“PRINCESS,” he said, coming around the couch to kneel in front of me, “WE MUST ACT SOON. THE SCEPTER IS GETTING FARTHER AND FARTHER AWAY, WHILE WE SIT HERE AND DO NOTHING. HOW CAN WE TRUST THIS LEANANSIDHE? WHAT IF SHE IS KEEPING US HERE BECAUSE SHE WANTS THE SCEPTER FOR HERSEL—?”

“Shh! Ironhorse, be quiet,” I hissed, and he immediately fell silent, looking as contrite as his expressionless face would allow. “You can’t say those things out loud. She could hear you, or her spies could rat us out. I’m pretty sure she has them watching our every move.” A quick glance around the library revealed nothing, but I could still feel eyes on me, peering unseen from cracks and shadows. “She already has it in for all Iron fey. Don’t add to it.”

“MY APOLOGIES, PRINCESS.” Ironhorse bowed his head. “I CANNOT ABIDE THIS WAITING. I FEEL AS IF I SHOULD BE DOING SOMETHING, BUT I AM USELESS TO YOU HERE.”

“I know how you feel,” I told him, placing a hand on his bulky arm. His skin was hot to the touch, and the tendons beneath were like solid steel. “I want to get out of here, too. But we have to be patient. Puck and Grim are out there—they’ll let us know if anything turns up or if we have to leave.”

He looked unhappy, but nodded. I sighed with relief and hoped Leanansidhe’s spies found something soon, before Ironhorse started tearing down the walls.

The door banged open, and we both jumped, but it was only a human, the scruffy piano player we’d seen when we first came to the mansion. He ambled into the room, blank eyes scanning the floor, until they spotted me. With an empty smile, he stumbled forward, but stopped when he saw the huge Iron faery kneeling in front of me.

Ironhorse rose with a growl, but I smacked his arm, wincing as the rock-hard bicep bruised my knuckles. “It’s all right,” I told him when he gave me a puzzled look. “I don’t think he’ll hurt me. He looks pretty harmless.”

Ironhorse gave the human a suspicious glare and snorted. “IF YOU NEED ME…”

“I’ll yell.”

He nodded, shot the man one last dark look, and retreated to the other side of the room to glower at us.

With Ironhorse at a distance, the man seemed to relax. He inched up to the couch and perched on the edge, staring at me curiously. I smiled at him over my book. He seemed much calmer now, not so crazy. His eyes were clear, though the way he stared at me, unblinking, was making me a bit uncomfortable.

“Hi,” I greeted, squirming a bit under that unrelenting gaze. “You’re Charles, aren’t you? I heard your playing earlier. You’re really good.”

He gave me a confused frown, tilting his head. “You heard me…play?” he murmured, his voice surprisingly clear and deep. “I don’t…remember that.”

I nodded. “In the foyer. When we first came here. You were playing for Leanansidhe and we heard the end of it.”

“I don’t remember,” he said again, scratching his head. “I don’t remember a lot of things.” He blinked and looked up at me, suddenly contemplative. “But…I remember you. Isn’t that strange?”

I glanced at Ironhorse, hovering in the corner and pretending not to listen to us. “How long have you been here, Charles?”

He frowned, scrunching his forehead. His face, though lined and worn, was curiously childlike. “I…I’ve always been here.”

“They can’t remember anything.” Grimalkin popped into existence on the back of the couch, waving his tail. I started and dropped my book, but Charles simply looked at the cat, as if he had seen far stranger. “He’s been here too long,” Grimalkin continued, sitting down and curling his tail around his legs. “That’s what being in Faery does to mortals. This one’s forgotten everything about his life before. Same as all the other mortals wandering around this place.”

“Hi, kitty,” muttered Charles, reaching a hand toward Grimalkin. Grimalkin bristled and stalked to the other end of the couch.

“How many of them are there?” I asked.

“Humans?” Grimalkin licked a paw, still keeping a wary eye on Charles. “Not so many. A dozen or so, I’d guess. All great artists—poets or painters or other such nonsense.” He sniffed and scrubbed the paw over his face. “That’s what keeps this place alive, all that creative energy and glamour. Not even the redcaps will lay a finger on them.”

“How can she keep them here?” I asked, but Grimalkin yawned and settled down on the couch back, burying his nose in his tail and closing his eyes. Apparently, he was done answering questions. I’d poke him, but he would just swat me or disappear.

“Here you are, darlings.” Leanansidhe breezed into the room, trailing a gauzy black dress and shawl behind her. “I’m so glad I caught you before I left. Charles, darling, I must speak with my guests now. Shoo shoo.” She fluttered her hands, and with a last glance at me Charles slipped off the couch and out the door.

“You’re leaving?” I eyed her dress and purse. “Why?”

“Have you seen Puck, darling?” Leanansidhe gazed around the library, ignoring my question. “We need to have a little chitchat. Cook has been complaining that certain dinner items keep going missing, the head maid is mysteriously in love with a coatrack, and my butler has been chasing mice around the foyer all evening.” She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes. “Anyway, darling. If you see Puck, be a dear and tell him to reverse the glamour on my poor maid, and to please stop stealing cakes from the oven before Cook has a meltdown. I shudder to think of what I might return to, but I simply cannot stay.”

“Where are you going?”

“Me? I’m off to Nashville, darling. Some brilliant young songwriter is in need of inspiration. It’s horrible to be so blocked, but not to worry. Soon, everyone will be in love with his muuuusic.” She sang the last word, and I bit my lip to kill the urge to dance. Leanansidhe went on without notice. “Also, I need to pay a visit to a night hag, see if she has any information for us. I’ll be back in a day or two, human time. Ciao, darling.”

She waggled her fingers at me and vanished in a swirl of glitter.

I blinked and fought the urge to sneeze.

“Show-off,” Puck muttered, appearing from behind one of the bookshelves, as if he’d been waiting for her to leave. He crossed the room to perch on the armrest, rolling his eyes. “She could’ve left without all the sparkly. But then, Lea always knew how to make an exit.”

“BUT SHE IS GONE.” Ironhorse hurried over, looking around as if he feared Leanansidhe was really hiding behind one of the chairs in the room, listening to him. “SHE IS GONE, AND WE CAN FIND A WAY OUT OF HERE.”

“And do what, exactly?” Grimalkin raised his head and gave him a scornful look. “We still do not know where the scepter is. We would only be announcing our presence to the enemy and lowering our chances of finding it.”

“Furball’s right, unfortunately,” Puck sighed. “Lea’s not the easiest fey to deal with, but she’s true to her word, and she has the best chance of finding the scepter. We should stay put until we actually know where it is.”

“SO.” Ironhorse crossed his massive arms, his eyes smoldering heat and fury. “THAT IS THE PLAN FROM THE GREAT ROBIN GOODFELLOW. WE SIT HERE AND DO NOTHING.”

“And what’s your brilliant plan, Rusty? Go clomping off to the city and poke our noses into every major corporation until the scepter falls on our heads?”

“PRINCESS.” Ironhorse turned to me. “THIS IS FOOLISH. WHY WAIT HERE ANY LONGER? DON’T YOU WANT TO FIND THE SCEPTER? DON’T YOU WANT TO FIND PRINCE ASH—”

“Stop right there.” My voice dropped a few degrees, and maybe Ironhorse heard the warning in it because he quickly shut up. I stood, clenching my fists. “Don’t you dare bring Ash into this,” I hissed, making him take a step back. “Yes, I want to find him—he’s on my mind every single day. But I can’t, because we have to find the scepter first. And even if the scepter wasn’t an issue, I still couldn’t do anything about Ash because he doesn’t want to be found. Not by me. He made that perfectly clear last I saw him.” My throat started to close up, and I took a shaky breath to fight it. “So, the answer to your question is, yes, I want to find Ash. But I can’t. Because the damn scepter is more important. And I’m not gonna screw up just because you can’t sit still for two damn minutes.” Tears welled, and I blinked angrily, aware that all three were staring like my head was on fire. I couldn’t tell what Ironhorse was thinking behind that expressionless mask, but Grimalkin looked bored, and Puck’s face was balanced between jealousy and pity.

Which pissed me off even more.

“Meghan,” Puck began, but I spun around and stormed out before I really started bawling. He called after me, but I ignored him, swearing that if he grabbed me or got in my way he would get an earful.

“Let her go,” I heard Grimalkin say as I bashed the door open. “She would not hear you now, Goodfellow. She wants only him.”

The door swung shut behind me, and I stomped down the hall, fighting angry tears.

It wasn’t fair. I was tired of being responsible, tired of making the hard decisions because it was the right thing to do. I wanted nothing more than to find Ash and beg him to reconsider. We could be together; we could find a way to make it work if we tried hard enough, screw the consequences. And the scepter.

The hallways stretched on, each one similar to the last: narrow, dark and red. I didn’t know where I was going, and I didn’t really care. I just wanted to get away from Puck and Ironhorse, to be alone with my selfish wishes for a while. Statues, paintings and musical instruments lined the corridors; some of them vibrated softly as I passed, faint shivers of music hanging on the air.

Finally, I sank down beside a harp, ignoring a piskie that watched from the end of the hall, and buried my face in my hands.

Ash. I miss you.

My eyes stung. I swiped at them angrily, determined not to cry. The harp thrummed in my ear, sounding curious and sympathetic. Idly, I drew my finger across the strings, and it released a mournful, shivery note that echoed down the hall.

Another chord answered it, and another. I raised my head and listened as the low, faint strains of piano music drifted into the corridor. The song was dark, haunting and strangely familiar. Wiping my eyes, I stood and followed it, down the twisted hallways, past instruments that hummed and added their voices to the melody.

The song led me to pair of dark red doors with gilded handles. Beyond the wood, it sounded like a symphony was in full swing. Cautiously, I pushed the doors open and stepped into a large, circular red room.

Waves of music flowed over me. The room was full of instruments: harps and cellos and violins, along with a few guitars and even a ukulele. In the middle of the room, Charles sat hunched over the keys of a baby grand piano, eyes closed as his fingers flew over the instrument. Along the walls, the other instruments thrummed and trilled and lent their strains to the melody, turning the cacophony into something pure and wondrous. The music was a living thing, swirling around the room, dark and eerie and haunted, bringing new tears to my eyes. I sank onto a red velvet couch and gave in to my churning emotions.

I know this song.

But try as I might, I couldn’t remember from where. The memory taunted me, keeping just out of reach, a gaping hole where the image should be. But the melody, mysterious and devastatingly familiar, pulled at my insides, filling me with sadness and a gaping sense of loss.

Tears flowing freely down my skin, I watched Charles’s lean shoulders rise and fall with the chords, his head so low it almost touched the keys. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought his cheeks were wet, too.

When the last note died away, neither of us moved for several heartbeats. Charles sat there, his fingers resting on the final keys, breathing hard. My mind was still spinning in circles, trying to remember the tune. But the longer I sat there, trying to recall it, the farther it slipped away, vanishing into the walls and carpet, until only the instruments remembered it at all.

Charles finally pushed the seat back and rose, and I stood with him, feeling faintly guilty for eavesdropping.

“That was beautiful,” I said as he turned. He blinked, obviously surprised to see me there, but he didn’t startle or jump. “What was the name of the song?”

The question seemed to confuse him. He frowned and cocked his head, furrowing his brow as if trying to understand me. Then a sorrowful expression crossed his face, and he shrugged. “I don’t remember.”

I felt a pang of disappointment. “Oh.”

“But…” He paused, running his fingers along the ivory keys, a faraway look in his eyes. “I seem to recall it was a favorite of mine. Long ago. I think.” He blinked, and his eyes focused on me again. “Do you know what it’s called?”

I shook my head.

“Oh. That’s too bad.” He sighed, pouting a bit. “The rats said you might remember.”

Okay, now it was time to leave. I stood, but before I could make my escape, the door creaked open, and Warren entered the room.

“Oh, hey, Meghan.” He licked his lips, eyes darting about in a nervous fashion. One hand was tucked into his jacket, hiding it from view. “I…um…I’m looking for Puck. Is he here?”

Something about him put me off. I shifted uncomfortably and crossed my arms. “No. I think he’s in the library with Ironhorse.”

“Good.” He stepped in farther, pulling his hand out of his jacket. The lights gleamed along the black barrel of a gun as he raised the muzzle and pointed it at me. I went stiff with shock, and Warren glanced over his shoulder. “Okay,” he called, “coast is clear.”

The door swung open, and a half-dozen redcaps poured into the room behind him. The one with the fishhook in his nose, Razor Dan, stepped forward and leered at me with a mouthful of jagged teeth.

“You sure this is the one, half-breed?”

Warren smirked. “I’m sure,” he replied, never taking the gun, or his eyes, off me. “The Iron King will reward us handsomely for this, you have my word.”

“Bastard,” I hissed at Warren, making the redcaps snicker. “Traitor. Why are you doing this? Leanansidhe gives you everything.”

“Oh, come on.” Warren sneered and shook his head. “You act like it’s a total shock that I want something better than this.” He gestured around the foyer with his free hand. “Being a minion in Leanansidhe’s sorry refugee cult hasn’t exactly been my life goal, Princess. So I’m a little bitter, yeah. But the new Iron King is offering half-breeds and exiles part of the Nevernever and a chance to kick the pure-blooded asses of all the dicks who stomped on us if we just do him a teensy favor and find you. And you were nice enough to drop into my lap.”

“You’ll never get away with it,” I told him desperately. “Puck and Ironhorse will come looking for me. And Leanansidhe—”

“By the time Leanansidhe gets back, we’ll be long gone,” Warren interrupted. “And the rest of Dan’s crew is taking care of Goodfellow and the iron monster, so they’re a little busy at the moment. I’m afraid that no one is coming to your rescue, Princess.”

“Warren,” snapped Razor Dan with an impatient glare. “We don’t have time to gloat, you idiot. Shoot the crazy and let’s get out of here before Leanansidhe comes back.”

My stomach clenched tight. Warren rolled his eyes, swinging the barrel of the gun around to Charles. Charles stiffened, seeming to grasp what was happening as Warren gave him a crooked leer.

“Sorry, Charles,” he muttered, and the gun filled my vision, cold, black and steely. I saw the opening of the barrel like Edgebriar’s iron ring, and felt a buzzing beneath my skin. “It’s nothing personal. You just got in the way.”

Tighten, I thought at the pistol barrel, just as Warren pulled the trigger.

A roar shattered the air as the gun exploded in Warren’s hand, sending the half-satyr stumbling back. Screaming, he dropped the mangled remains of the weapon and clutched his hand to his chest as the smell of smoke and burning flesh filled the room.

The redcaps stared wide-eyed at Warren as he collapsed to his knees, wailing and shaking his charred hand. “What are you waiting for?” he screamed at them, his voice half shout and half sob. “Kill the crazy and get the girl!”

The redcap closest to me snarled and lunged. I shrank back, but Charles suddenly stepped between us. Before the redcap could dodge, he grabbed a cello off the wall and smashed it down over its head. The instrument let out a shriek, as if in pain, and the redcap crumpled the floor.

Razor Dan sighed.

“All right, lads,” he growled, as I grabbed Charles’s hand and pulled him back behind the piano. “All together now. Get them!”

“PRINCESS!”

Behind them, the door burst open with a furious roar, and two redcaps were hurled through the air, landing face-first into the wall. The pack spun around, their eyes going wide as Ironhorse barreled into them, swinging his huge fists and bellowing at the top of his lungs. Several redcaps went flying and the rest swarmed him with bloodthirsty cries, biting at his arms and legs. They fell back, shrieking in pain, teeth shattered, mouths blackened and raw. Ironhorse continued to hurl them away like he’d gone berserk.

“Hey, Princess.” Puck appeared beside me, grinning from ear to ear. “Grimalkin said you were having redcap trouble. We’re here to help, although I must say Rusty is doing fine on his own.” He ducked as a redcap flew overhead, landing with a crunch against the wall. “I’ll have to remember to keep him around. He’d be great fun at parties, don’t you think?”

The redcap Ironhorse had thrown into the wall staggered to his feet, looking dazed. Seeing us, he bared a mouthful of broken teeth and tensed to lunge. Puck grinned and pulled out his dagger, but there was an explosion of light between them, and a ringing voice filled the hallway.

“Everyone freeze!”

We froze.

“Well,” Leanansidhe said, striding over to me and Puck. “Turns out this game was a rousing success. Although, I must say, I was hoping to be surprised. It gets rather boring when you’re right about everything.”

“L-Leanansidhe,” Razor Dan stammered, all the blood draining from his face as she regarded him with her fearsome smile. “H-how…? You’re supposed to be in Nashville.”

“Dan, darling.” Leanansidhe shook her head and tsked. “Did you really think I was blind to what was going on? In my own house? I know the rumors circulating the streets, pet. I know the Iron King has been offering rewards for the girl. I had the feeling there was a traitor in my house, a so-called agent of the Iron King. What better way to flush him out than to leave him alone with the princess and wait for him to make his move? Your kind is so very predictable, darling.”

“We…” Dan glanced around at his crew, clearly looking for someone else to blame. “This wasn’t our idea, Leanansidhe.”

“Oh, I know, darling. You’re too dull to organize something like this. Which is why I’m not going to punish you.”

“Really?” Dan relaxed a bit.

“Really?” I blurted, looking up at her. “But they attacked me! And they were going to kill Charles! You’re not going to do anything about that?”

“They were only following their base instincts, pet.” Leanansidhe smiled at me. “I expected nothing less of them. What I really want is the mastermind. Why don’t you stick around…Warren.”

We all turned to where Warren was trying to sneak down the corridor without being seen. He froze, wincing at the sound of his name, and gave Leanansidhe a feeble smile.

“Leanansidhe, I…I can explain.”

“Oh, I’m sure you can, darling.” Leanansidhe’s voice made my stomach curl. “And you will. We’re going to have a little chitchat, and you’re going to tell me everything you know about the Iron King and the scepter. You’re going to sing, darling. Sing as you’ve never sung before, I promise.”

“Come on,” Puck told me, taking my elbow. “You don’t want to hear this, Princess, trust me. Lea will give us the information when she has it.”

“Charles,” I said, and he turned from Leanansidhe to me, his eyes blank and empty once more. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

“Pretty lady’s sparkly,” Charles muttered. I sighed.

“Yeah,” I said sadly, taking his hand. “She is.”

With Ironhorse glowering and Puck leading the way, we fled the music room and Leanansidhe’s presence, leaving Warren to his fate.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN Royal Treatment

“A software corporation?” Puck repeated, brow furrowing. “Really. That’s where they’ve been hiding it all this time?”

“Apparently, darling.” Leanansidhe leaned back in her chair, crossing her long legs. “Remember, the Iron fey aren’t like us. They’re not going to be hanging around parks and museums, singing to flowers. They like high-tech places that attract the cold, calculating mortals we care so little for.”

I shared a glance with Puck. We’d been talking about that strange, cold glamour I’d used on the gun before Leanansidhe came in. Though we were only guessing, we’d both come to the conclusion that it had indeed been iron glamour that I’d used on Warren, and that Leanansidhe, with her obvious hate and contempt for the Iron fey, definitely should not know about it yet.

I wished I knew more about it. I had the feeling this had never happened in the faery world before, that I was a first, and there was no expert to talk to. Why did I have iron glamour? Why could I use it sometimes and not others? Too many questions, and no answers. I sighed and decided to focus on the problem at hand, instead of the one I had no hope of unraveling yet.

“What’s the name of this place?” I asked Leanansidhe, not pointing out that I was one of those cold, calculating mortals who liked gadgets and computers and high-tech. I still missed my poor drowned iPod, the victim of a river crossing the first time I came to Faery, and this was the longest I’d ever gone without television. If I ever got back to having a normal life, I’d have a lot to catch up on.

Leanansidhe tapped her fingers against the armrest, pursing her lips in thought. “Oh, what did they call it? They all sound the same to me, darling.” She snapped her fingers. “SciCorp, I believe it was. Yes, in downtown San Jose. The heart of Silicon Valley.”

“Big place,” I muttered. “I don’t think we can just walk in. There’s sure to be cameras and security guards and everything.”

“Yes, a frontal assault is doomed to fail,” Leanansidhe agreed, glancing at Ironhorse, who stood in the corner with his arms crossed. “And remember, it’s not only mortals you have to worry about. There’s sure to be Iron fey as well. You’re going to have to be…sneakier.”

In the corner, Ironhorse raised his head. “WHAT ABOUT A DISTRACTION?” he offered. “I COULD KEEP THEIR ATTENTION ON ME, WHILE SOMEONE GOES IN THROUGH THE BACK.”

“Or I could glamour Meghan invisible,” Puck added.

Grimalkin yawned from where he lay the couch. “It will be risky holding a glamour with all the iron and steel inside,” he said, blinking sleepily. “And we all know how horribly incompetent the human is when it comes to magic, even without her glamour sealed off.”

I threw a pillow at him. He gave me a disdainful look and went back to sleep.

“Do we know anything about the building?” I asked Leanansidhe. “Blueprints, security, that kind of thing?” I suddenly felt like a spy in an action movie. The image of me dangling over a net of trip wires, Mission Impossible style, sprang to mind, and I bit down a nervous giggle.

“Unfortunately, Warren didn’t have much to say about the building, though he really wanted to at the end, poor boy.” Leanansidhe smiled, as if reliving a fond memory, and I shivered. “Thankfully, my spies found out all we needed to know. They said they’re holding the scepter on floor twenty-nine point five.”

“Twenty-nine point five?” I frowned. “How’s that work?”

“I’ve no idea, darling. That’s just what they said. However—” and she produced a slip of paper with a flourish “—they were able to come up with this. Apparently, it’s some sort of code, used to get into the Iron faeries’ lair. They couldn’t solve it, but perhaps you will have better luck. I’ve no head for numbers at all, I’m afraid.”

She handed the paper to me. Puck and Ironhorse crowded around, and we stared at it for several moments. Leanansidhe was right—it was definitely part of a code.

3

13

1113

3113

132113

1…

“Okay,” I mused, after several moments of racking my brain and not coming up with anything. “So, we just have to figure this out and then we’re home free. Doesn’t sound too hard.”

“I’m afraid it’s a bit more complicated, darling.” Leanansidhe accepted a glass of wine from a brownie. “As you said before, SciCorp is not a place you can just walk into. Visitors are not allowed past the front desk, and security is fairly tight. You have to be an employee to get off the first floor.”

“Well, what if we pretended to be the janitor or cleaning service, or something like that?”

Grimalkin snorted and shifted position on the couch. “Would you not need an ID card for that?” he said, settling comfortably on the pillow I’d thrown at him. “If the building is so well guarded, I doubt they let in common riffraff off the street.”

I slumped, frowning. “He’s right. We would need a fake ID, or the ID of one of the workers, to make it inside. I don’t know anyone who can get us something like that.”

Leanansidhe smiled. “I do,” she said, and snapped her fingers twice. “Skrae, darling,” she called, “would you come here a moment? I need you to find something.”

A piskie spiraled into view, gossamer wings buzzing. Three inches tall, he had indigo skin and dandelion hair, and wore nothing but a razor-toothed grin as he fluttered by. His eyes, enormous white orbs in his pointed face, regarded me curiously, until Leanansidhe clapped her hands.

“Skrae, pet, I’m over here. Focus, darling.” The piskie gave me a wink and a suggestive hip wiggle before turning his attention to Leanansidhe. “Good. Now, pay attention. I have a mission for you. I want you to find the streetrats. The half-phouka and the troll boy, I forget their names. Tell them to leave off the eggs for now, I have another job for them. Now go, darling. Buzz buzz.” She fluttered her hand, and the piskie zipped away out of sight.

“Kimi and Nelson,” I said softly.

“What, darling?”

“That’s their names. Kimi and Nelson. They were with…with Warren, when we first met.” I remembered Kimi’s impish grin, Nelson’s stoic expression. “You don’t think they’re involved with the Iron fey, too?”

“No.” Leanansidhe leaned back, snapping at a brownie for wine. “They knew nothing of Warren’s betrayal or plot to kidnap you. He made that very clear.”

“Oh. That’s a relief.”

“Although,” Leanansidhe mused with a faraway look, “the girl would make a lovely violin. Or maybe a lyre. The troll is more of a bass, I believe. What do you think, darling?”

I shuddered and hoped she was kidding.

KIMI AND NELSON showed up a few hours later. When they walked into the foyer, Leanansidhe wasted no time in telling them what had happened to Warren, which left them shocked and angry but not disbelieving. No tears were shed, no furious accusations were hurled at anyone. Kimi sniffled a bit, but when Leanansidhe informed them they had a job, both perked up instantly. They struck me as very pragmatic kids, used to the school of hard knocks, which left little room for self-pity or wallowing.

“So,” Kimi said, flopping back on the sofa, which almost swallowed her whole, “what do you want us to do?”

Leanansidhe smiled and gestured for me to take over. “This is your plan, dove. You tell them what you need.”

“Um…right.” The two half-breeds looked at me expectantly. I swallowed. “Um, well, have you heard of a company called SciCorp?”

Kimi nodded, kicking her feet. “Sure. Big corporation that makes software, or something like that. Why?”

I looked at Leanansidhe, and she waved her cigarette at me encouragingly. “Well, we need to get inside the building and steal something. Unnoticed.”

Kimi’s eyes widened. “You serious?”

I nodded. “Yes. But, we need your help to get past the guards and the security. Specifically, we need an ID card from one of the workers, and Leanansidhe said you might be able to get us one. Could you do that?”

Kimi and Nelson shared a glance, and the half-phouka turned to me with a mischievous smile. “No problem.” Her eyes gleamed, relishing the encounter. “When do you want it?”

“As soon as possible.”

“Right, then.” Kimi squirmed off the couch and tapped Nelson’s huge bicep. “Come on, big guy. Let’s go terrorize a human. Back before you know it.”

As the two left the foyer, Puck glanced at Leanansidhe. “You sure those two can handle it?” he asked, and grinned mischievously. “Want me to help them out?”

“No, darling. It’s best that you do not.” Leanansidhe stood, green smoke swirling about her. “Half-breeds have it easier in Silicon Valley—they won’t attract as much attention as normal fey, and they haven’t our allergies to all the iron and steel. Those two will be fine, trust me. Now, then.” She walked toward me, smiling. “Come with me, my pet. We have a big day ahead of us.”

I stared at her nervously. “Where are we going?”

“Shopping, darling!”

“What? Now? Why?”

Leanansidhe tsked. “Darling, you can’t expect to waltz into SciCorp looking like that.” She regarded my jeans and sweater imperiously, and sniffed. “It doesn’t exactly scream ‘I’m a business professional.’ More like, ‘I’m a Goodwill junkie.’ If we’re going to get you into SciCorp, you’ll need more than luck and glamour. You’ll need an entire makeover.”

“But we’re running out of time. Why can’t Puck just glamour me some clothes—”

“Darling, darling, darling.” Leanansidhe waved her hand. “You never turn down a chance to go shopping, pet. Besides, didn’t you hear Grimalkin? Even the most powerful glamour has the tendency to unravel if surrounded by steel and iron. We don’t want you to look like a corporate worker, dove, we want you to be a corporate worker. And we’re going shopping, no buts about it.” She gave me an indulgent smile I didn’t like at all. “Think of me as your temporary faery godmother, darling. Just let me get my magic wand.”

I FOLLOWED Leanansidhe down another long corridor that dumped us out onto a sunny sidewalk bustling with people, who didn’t notice our sudden appearance from a previously empty alleyway. Even though the sun was shining and the sky was clear, there was a frigid bite to the air, and people hurried down the street in thick sweaters and coats, a sign that winter was on its way or had already arrived. As we passed a newspaper machine, I quickly scanned the date in the corner and breathed in a sigh of relief. Five months. I’d been stuck in Faery five months; a long time to be sure, but better than five years, or five centuries. At least my parents were still alive.

I spent the rest of the afternoon being dragged from shop to shop, following Leanansidhe as she plucked clothes from racks and shoved them at me, demanding I try them on. When I balked at the ungodly prices, she laughed and reminded me that she was my temporary faery godmother today, and that price was not an issue.

I tried on women’s suits first, sleek jackets and tight, knee-length skirts that made me look five years older, at least to Leanansidhe’s reckoning. I must’ve tried on two dozen different styles, colors and combinations before Leanansidhe finally announced that she liked a simple black outfit that looked like every other black outfit I had tried on.

“So, we’re done now?” I ventured hopefully, as Leanansidhe had the store clerk take the suit away to be wrapped. The faery looked down at me in genuine surprise and laughed.

“Oh, no, darling. That was just a suit. You still need shoes, makeup, a purse, a few accessories…no pet, we’ve only just begun.”

“I didn’t think faeries liked shopping and buying stuff. Isn’t that a bit…unnatural?”

“Of course not, darling. Shopping is just another form of hunting. All fey are hunters, whether they admit it or not. It’s in our nature, pet, nothing unnatural about it.”

That made a strange sort of sense.

MORE STORES. I lost track of all the places we visited, the aisles we stalked, the racks we pored over. Leanansidhe was a faery on a mission; the second she swept through the doors, all sales-people would drop what they were doing and flock to her side, asking if they could help, if they could be of service. I was invisible beside her; even when Leanansidhe announced we were shopping for me, the clerks would forget I existed the second they turned away. Still, they were eager to please, bringing out their best shoes in my size, showing us a staggering variety of purses I would never use, and suggesting earrings that would accent the color of my eyes. (This was also the time Leanansidhe discovered I didn’t pierce my ears. Thirty minutes later, I sat with my earlobes throbbing as a bubbly clerk pressed cotton to my ears and cheerfully told me the swelling would go down in a day or two.)

Finally, as the sun was setting over the buildings, the Queen of Shopping decided we were finished. Relieved that the long day was over, I sat on a chair, staring at the stupid code, annoyed that I still couldn’t solve it. I watched Leanansidhe chat up the clerk as she wrapped and bagged the merchandise. When she announced the grand total, I nearly fell out of my seat, but Leanansidhe smiled and handed her a credit card without blinking once. For just a moment, when the clerk handed it back, the card looked more like a piece of bark, but Leanansidhe dropped it into her purse before I could get a closer look.

“Well,” my temporary faery godmother said brightly as we departed the store, “we have your clothes, your shoes, and your accessories. Now, the real fun begins.”

“What?” I asked wearily.

“Your hair, my dove. It’s just…not good.” Leanansidhe made as if to pluck my bangs, but couldn’t quite bring herself to touch them. “And your nails. They need help. Fortunately, it’s almost time for the spa to open.”

“Spa?” I looked at the glowing orange ball disappearing over the horizon, wishing we could go home. “But it must be six o’clock. Aren’t most places like that closed?”

“Of course, darling. That’s when all the humans leave. Don’t ask such silly questions.” Leanansidhe shook her head at my naïveté. “Come now. I know Ben will be dying to meet you.”

Natural Earth Salon and Spa was crowded tonight. We passed a pair of giggling sylphs on the pebbled path to the salon. Petite and delicate, their razor-edged wings buzzing softly, they grinned at us as we walked by, teeth glinting like knives. A Winter sidhe, tall and cold and beautiful, brushed by us as we stepped through the door into the waiting area, leaving a trail of frost on my skin and a chill in my lungs. A trio of piskies landed in my hair, laughing and tugging, until Leanansidhe gave them a look and they buzzed out the door.

Inside, the lighting was dim, the walls hewn of natural stone, giving it a cavelike feel. A marble fountain with fish and mermaids bubbled in the center of the foyer, filling the room with the cheerful sound of running water. Orchids and bamboo flourished in natural planters, and the air was warm and damp.

“Why are there so many fey here?” I asked softly, as a huge black dog loped across the doorway in the back. “Is this a place for exiles? A salon and spa? That’s kind of weird.”

“Can’t you feel it, dove? The glamour of this place?” Leanansidhe leaned down, gesturing to the walls and fountain. “Some places in the mortal world are more magical than others, hot spots for glamour, if you will. It draws us like a moth to a flame—exiles, solitary and court fey alike. Besides, darling—” Leanansidhe straightened with a sniff. “Even our kind appreciates a bit of pampering now and then.”

A blond, well-dressed satyr welcomed Leanansidhe with a kiss on both cheeks, before turning to me with a dazzling smile.

“Ah, so this is the princess I’ve heard so much about,” he gushed, taking my hand to press it to his lips. “She’s absolutely adorable. But—” and he glanced at Leanansidhe “—I can see what you mean about her hair. And her nails.” He shuddered and shook his head before I could say anything. “Well, leave it to me. We’ll have her looking fabulous in no time.”

“Work your magic, Ben,” Leanansidhe said, wandering away toward a back door. “I’ll be with Miguel if you need me, darling. Meghan dear, just do what Ben says and you’ll be fine.” She waved her hand airily as she sauntered through the door, and was gone.

Ben turned to me and clasped his furry hands. “Well, sweet-cakes, you’re in luck. We have the rest of the evening booked for you.”

“Really?” I couldn’t help sounding dubious. I had never been to one of these places before, let alone one run completely by the fey, and didn’t know what to expect. “How long can it take to do hair?”

Ben laughed. “Oh, sweet pea, you’re killing me. Come, now. We’ve got a lot to do.”

THE NEXT FEW HOURS flew by in a confused blur. The fey staff, mostly satyrs and a few brownies, were alarmingly attentive. They took my clothes away and wrapped me in a very white bathrobe. I was made to lie on my back while brownies in white suits slathered cream on my face and put cucumbers over my eyes, telling me to lie still. After maybe an hour of this, they sat me up, and a cute satyr named Miroku soaked my hands in a warm bath that smelled like cocoa and coffee beans. He massaged my hands with lotion before meticulously filing, polishing, and painting my nails. Then the whole procedure was done to my feet. After that, they whisked me away to the stylist, who shampooed, trimmed and styled my hair—with bronze scissors, I noted—chatting at me all the while. It was odd. I won’t say I didn’t enjoy all the attention and pampering, but I did feel a bit dazed through the whole process, and a little out of place. This wasn’t me. I wasn’t a princess or a superstar or anything special. I was a poor pig-farmer girl from Louisiana, and I didn’t belong here.

They were adding the final touches of makeup to my eyes and lips when Leanansidhe sauntered back into the room, looking so smug and relaxed that her skin glowed. She had dropped her more human glamour, and her ethereal beauty filled the room, red-gold hair nearly blinding under the artificial lights. Ben trailed behind her, gushing about how radiant she looked.

“Mmm yes, I swear that Miguel is a virtual musician with his fingers,” Leanansidhe murmured with a catlike stretch, raising too-slender arms over her head. “If you didn’t need him so badly, love, I’d kidnap him myself and take him home. That kind of talent is hard to find, believe me. Well now,” she exclaimed when she saw me. “Look at you, darling. You’re a completely different person. I barely recognize you.”

“Isn’t she cute?” Ben added, beaming at me. “Don’t you love what they did with her hair? I adore the highlights, and Patricia does layering so well.”

“It’s perfect,” Leanansidhe nodded, studying me with a half smile that made me very uncomfortable. “If I don’t recognize her, no one in SciCorp will, either.”

I wanted to say something, but at that moment, a strange odor cut through the smell of perfume, makeup and moisturizers, stopping me mid-breath. Leanansidhe and Ben stiffened, as did every faery in the room. A couple brownies went scurrying away in terror, and the faery patrons began to murmur and shift restlessly as the foreign smell grew stronger. I recognized it, and my heart sped up, beating against my ribs. Metal. There was an Iron faery on the premises.

And then, it walked through the door.

My stomach turned over, and some of the patrons gasped. The Iron faery was dressed in a dove-gray business suit, and an expressive-looking one at that. Short black hair didn’t conceal the long pointed ears, or the Bluetooth phone near his jaw. His skin, green as circuit board, glinted with hundreds of blinking lights, wires and computer chips. Behind thick, wire-rimmed glasses, his eyes shimmered green, blue and red.

Smooth as glass, Ben sidled in front of me, blocking my view but also shielding me from the faery’s gaze. I froze and tried to be as invisible as possible.

“Well.” The Iron faery’s voice, thick with mockery, cut through the room. “Isn’t anyone going to invite me in? Give me a pamphlet? Tell me your services? For such a high-ranking business, the customer service leaves much to be desired.”

For a moment, nobody moved. Then one of the satyrs edged forward, shaking but furious at the same time. “We don’t serve your kind here.”

“Really?” The faery put a hand to his chest, feigning astonishment. “Well, I must say, I’m rather embarrassed. Then again, I could probably kill you all without even thinking about it, so I suppose a little prejudice is acceptable.”

Leanansidhe stepped forward, her hair coiling behind her like snakes. “What do you want, abomination?”

“Leanansidhe.” The Iron faery smiled. “You are Leanansidhe, aren’t you? We’ve heard of you, you and your little network of spies. Word is, you know the location of Oberon’s daughter, the Summer princess.”

“I know a lot, darling.” Leanansidhe sounded utterly bored and disinterested. “It’s my business to be informed, for my own amusement and safety. I don’t make a habit of involving myself. Nor do I make a habit of conversing with iron abominations. So, if we’re quite done here, I think you should leave.”

“Oh, I’ll be gone soon enough.” The Iron faery didn’t seem the least bit perturbed. “But, my boss has a message for you, and an offer. Give us the location of Oberon’s daughter, and all your crimes will be abolished when we take the Nevernever. You can go home. Don’t you want to go home, Leanansidhe?” He raised his voice, addressing the rest of the assembled fey. “And that goes for every half-breed and exile, pure-blooded or not. Help us find the Summer princess, and your place in the Nevernever will be assured. The Iron King welcomes all who want to serve him.”

He paused after this announcement, waiting for someone to step forward. No one moved. Probably because Leanansidhe, standing in the middle of the room, was throwing off some seriously scary vibes, flickering the lamps with her power. Which was a good thing, because everyone was looking at her and not me.

The Iron faery waited a moment longer, and when no one volunteered to piss off the Queen of the Exiles, he stepped back with a smile. “Well. If anyone changes his mind, just call us. We’re everywhere. And we will come for you, in the end.”

He spun on a heel and left, footsteps clicking over the tile. Everyone watched him go. Leanansidhe glowered at the door until the last traces of iron faded away, then spun on me.

“Party’s over, darling. Let’s go. Ben, you’re a doll and your assistance today is much appreciated, but we really must dash.”

“Of course, girl.” Ben waved to us as we hurried out. “You bring that cutie back to see me soon, okay? And good luck infiltrating the megacorporation!”

WHEN WE RETURNED to the mansion, we found Puck and Ironhorse discussing strategy with Kimi and Nelson, who had returned from their mission. All four were huddled around the library table, heads bent close together, muttering in low voices. When we came in, followed by several redcaps carrying our bags, they straightened quickly, and their eyes went wide. Even Ironhorse’s glowing eyes got big and round when we swept through the door.

“Wow, Meghan!” Kimi bounced in place, clapping her hands. “You look awesome! I love what you did with your hair.”

“PRINCESS.” Ironhorse looked me up and down, nodding in approval. “TRULY, YOU ARE A VISION.”

I glanced at Puck, who was staring at me in a daze. “Um…” he stammered, while I nearly went into shock with the novelty of actually rendering Puck speechless. “You look…nice,” he muttered at last.

I blushed, suddenly self-conscious.

“Children.” Leanansidhe clapped her hands, bringing our attention back to her. “If we are going to retrieve the scepter, we need to move quickly. You, streetrats.” She snapped her fingers at Kimi and Nelson. “Did you get what I sent you for, darlings?”

Kimi nodded at Nelson, who dug in his pocket and held up a plastic ID card. The face of a bespectacled blond woman glared out from the right corner, lips pursed as if trying to kill the camera with a look. Nelson tossed the card to Leanansidhe, who studied it disdainfully.

“Rosalyn Smith. A bit old, but she’ll have to do. Well, then.” She turned to the rest of us. “Tomorrow is a big day, darlings. Don’t stay up too late. I’ll meet you in the foyer tomorrow morning. Meghan, dove, you really need to figure out that code before tomorrow. Operation Scepter begins at dawn. Ta!” She gestured dramatically and vanished in a swirl of glitter.

THAT NIGHT, I was too nervous to sleep. I lay on my bed, Grimalkin dozing beside me on the pillow, trying to figure out the code but really just staring at the numbers until my eyes glazed over. I kept visualizing everything that could go wrong during the mission, which was a rather lengthy list. In a few hours, we were going to sneak into SciCorp using some woman’s badge, grab the scepter, and book out before anyone realized we were there. As if it would be that easy, like a walk on the beach. As if they wouldn’t have the scepter guarded day and night.

There was a soft rap on my door, and Puck peeked his head inside.

“Hey, Princess. Thought you could use something to eat. Mind if I come in?”

I shook my head, and Puck entered with a plate bearing sandwiches and apple slices. “Here,” he announced, setting it down on the bed. “You should eat something. I tried making something better, but Cook chased me out of the kitchen with a rolling pin. I don’t think she’s very fond of me.” He snickered and fell across the bed, helping himself to an apple slice as he got comfortable.

“Appreciate it,” I murmured, picking up a sandwich. Cheese and…more cheese; better than nothing, I guessed. “Where’s Ironhorse?”

“Off with the two streetrats, discussing strategy,” Puck replied, stuffing the whole apple wedge into his mouth. “You should hear them—they think they’re in a James Bond movie or something.” He noticed me fiddling with a corner of the paper square and sat up. “How’s it going, Princess?”

I crumpled the paper into a wad and threw it across the room. Puck blinked. “Um, not well, I assume?”

“I don’t get it,” I sighed, drawing my hand across my eyes. “I’ve tried everything I can think of to make heads or tails of it—addition, multiplying the lines, division—and I still don’t get it. And if I can’t decrypt the stupid code, we won’t get up to the right floor, which means we won’t get the scepter, which means everyone will die because of me!”

“Hey.” Puck sat up and put an arm around me. “Why are you freaking out? This is nothing, Princess. This should be cake for you. You’re the one who took down the Iron King. You marched into the heart of enemy territory and kicked ass. This isn’t any different.”

“Yes, it is!” I put my sandwich down and stared at him. “This is worlds apart! Puck, when I faced Machina, it was to rescue Ethan, just Ethan. I’m not saying he wasn’t important—I would’ve died to save him in a heartbeat. But it was only one person.” I closed my eyes and leaned into Puck’s chest, listening to his heartbeat for a few seconds. “If I screw this up,” I muttered, “if I don’t get the scepter back, everyone will die. Not just you and Ironhorse and the others, but everyone. Faery will be wiped out. No Summer, no Winter, nothing. Nothing but the Iron fey will be left. Now do you see why I’m a little jumpy?”

I didn’t mention that I wished Ash was here. That he was the main reason I’d been brave in the Iron Kingdom. I missed him, his calm, unflinching determination, his quiet self-confidence.

Puck shifted so that he was facing me, tilting my chin to look at me square. I met his eyes and saw a hundred churning emotions in his emerald gaze.

“I’m here,” he murmured, running long fingers through my hair. “Don’t forget that. No matter what happens, I’ll protect you.” He leaned in, resting his forehead to mine. I smelled apples on his breath, saw my own reflection in his eyes. “I’ll never leave your side, no matter what comes at us. Count on it.”

My heart thumped in my ears. I knew I was standing on the edge of a vast precipice, looking down. I knew I should pull away, that if I stayed here, a line would be crossed, and we could never go back.

I closed my eyes instead. And Puck kissed me.

His lips were hesitant at first, brushing lightly against mine, giving me room to pull away. When I pressed into him, he cupped the back of my head and kissed me in earnest. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him close, wanting to forget everything that was happening, to drown myself in feeling. Maybe now the gaping hurt and loneliness would go away for a little while. Puck shoved the plate off the bed and leaned back, pulling me down with him, his lips suddenly at my neck, tracing a line of fire down my skin.

“If you are going to do that, would you mind not jostling the bed so much?” came a sarcastic voice near the headboard. “Perhaps you could roll around on the floor.”

Blushing furiously, I looked up. Grimalkin lay on the pillow, watching us with a bemused, half-lidded stare. Puck followed my gaze and let out an explosive sigh.

“Did I ever mention how much I hate cats?”

“Do not blame me, Goodfellow.” Grimalkin blinked, managing to sound bored and indignant at the same time. “I was minding my own business long before you and the princess started humping like rabbits.”

Puck snorted. Rolling to his stomach, he pushed himself off the bed and pulled me up with him, wrapping me in his arms. My face flamed, but whether it was from Grimalkin’s ill-timed comments or something else, I couldn’t tell.

“I’d better go,” Puck sighed, sounding reluctant. “I told Ironhorse I’d look at some blueprints Kimi managed to swipe from somewhere.” His gaze strayed to the scattered food on the floor, sandwiches and apple slices everywhere, and he bit down a sheepish grin. “Erm, sorry about the mess, Princess. And don’t worry about the code, we’ll figure something out. Try to get some sleep, okay? We’ll be right outside.”

He bent down, as if to kiss me, but I couldn’t meet his eyes and looked away. He paused, then placed a light kiss on my forehead and left, shutting the door behind him.

I collapsed to the bed, burying my face in a pillow. What had I done? I kissed Puck, because he was there. Because I was scared and lonely for someone else. Puck loved me, and I had kissed him for all the wrong reasons. I’d kissed him thinking of Ash. And…I liked it.

Guilt gnawed at me. I missed Ash, and the longing was ripping my stomach to pieces, but I also wanted Puck to come back and kiss me some more.

“I am so screwed up,” I muttered, flopping back on the bed. The cracks in the ceiling smirked at me, and I groaned. “What am I going to do?”

“Hopefully obsess in silence so I can get to sleep,” Grimalkin said without opening his eyes. He flexed his claws, yawned, and burrowed deeper into the pillow. “Perhaps you can work on deciphering the code so that we can retrieve the scepter. I would hate to put in all this work for nothing.”

I glared at him, but he was right. And, maybe it would take my mind off Puck for a while. “I mean, it’s not like I’m cheating on Ash or anything,” I reasoned, retrieving the crumpled ball of paper and climbing back onto the bed. “He was the one who dumped me and said to forget about him. We’re over. Actually, I’m not sure we had anything in the first place.”

Grimalkin didn’t answer. I stared at the code and sighed again, heavily, as the numbers seemed to crawl across the paper like ants. “I’m never going to get this, Grim,” I muttered. “This is hopeless. You’d have to be a mathematical genius or something.”

Grimalkin thumped his tail and shifted around so that his back was to me. “Try looking at the code as a riddle, instead of a mathematical equation,” he muttered. “Perhaps you are trying too hard to fit it to a formula. The Iron fey are still fey, after all, and riddles are in our blood.”

A riddle, huh? I looked down at the paper again and frowned. I still couldn’t make heads or tails of the stupid code, no matter how much I looked at it.

3

13

1113

3113

132113

1…

“Grim, I don’t—”

“Read it out loud, human.” Grim sounded annoyed but resigned, as if he knew he wasn’t going to get any sleep until he helped me. “If you must make noise, at least try to be useful.”

“Fine,” I muttered. “But it’s not going to help.” Grim didn’t reply, so I started reading it from the top. “Three. One-three. One-one-one-three. Three-one-one-three.” I stopped, frowning. It sounded different, reading it out loud. I tried the third line again. “One-one, one-three.”

One 1. One 3.

I blinked. Could it really be that simple? I ran through the rest of the lines, just to be sure, and my eyes widened as it all clicked into place. “I…I got it! I think. Wait a minute.” I scanned the paper again. “Yes, that’s right! It’s not just a number riddle, it’s a language riddle, too! You were right, Grim! Look!” I shoved the paper at Grimalkin, who continued to ignore me, but I went on anyway. “Each of the lines describes the line before it. The first number is a three, so the second line goes, One 3. The next line is One 1, One 3, and so on. So, if that’s the case, the last line of the riddle, and the answer to the code would have to be…” I counted the numbers in my head. “1-1-1-3-1-2-2-1-1-3.” I felt a thrill of pride and excitement, somehow knowing I was right, and couldn’t help the huge grin spreading over my face. “I figured it out, Grim! We can get the scepter after all.”

Grimalkin didn’t answer. His eyes were closed, and I couldn’t tell if he was asleep or faking it. I considered tracking down Puck and Ironhorse to share in my victory, but on reflection I wasn’t sure I wanted to face Puck just then. So I lay on the bed, listening to the brownies scurry back and forth, cleaning up apple slices, while my mind replayed Puck’s kiss until the memory was seared into my brain. Guilt and excitement assaulted me by turns. One moment, I was ready to drag Puck back here to finish what we’d started, the next, I missed Ash so much my chest hurt. I stayed awake, too hyped up to sleep, until a brownie poked his head in to tell me it was dawn and Leanansidhe was waiting for me.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN Operation Scepter

The woman stared at me over the gold rim of her glasses, lips pursed in a disdainful expression. She wore a black business suit that clung to her body, and her hair was pulled into a tight yet elegant bun, giving her a stern demeanor. Her makeup was perfect, and the towering black heels made her seem taller and even more imposing.

“What do you think, darling?” Leanansidhe asked, sounding pleased. “The glasses might be a bit much, but we don’t want to take any chances today.”

I stuck out my tongue at the woman, who did the same in the mirror’s reflection. “It’s perfect,” I said, amazed. “I don’t even recognize myself. I look like a lawyer or something.”

“Hopefully enough to get you into SciCorp this afternoon,” Leanansidhe murmured, and all the dread and fear I’d managed to suppress all morning rose up like a black tide. I swallowed hard to keep the nausea down, wishing I hadn’t eaten that box of powdered doughnuts Kimi brought in for breakfast. I wouldn’t look very professional if I puked all over my expensive shoes.

Puck, Kimi, Nelson and Ironhorse were in the foyer, huddled around a blueprint when we came in, me wobbling behind Leanansidhe in my flimsy heels. Grimalkin dozed on the top of the piano, his tail brushing the keys, ignoring us all. I saw Leanansidhe glance his way and wince, as if imagining scratch marks on the polished wood.

Puck glanced up at me and smiled. He held out a hand, and I tottered up to him, grabbing his arm for support. My toes throbbed, and I leaned into him, trying to take the weight off my feet. How did women do it, walking around in these things every day without snapping their ankles?

“How’s that walking thing coming?” Puck murmured so that only I could hear.

“Shut up.” I smacked his arm. “I’m still learning, okay? This is like walking around on toothpicks.” He snickered, and I shifted my attention to the map spread out between them. “What are we looking at?”

“The plan,” Kimi answered, standing on tiptoes to bend over the table. “This is the SciCorp entrance,” the half-phouka continued, pointing to an obscure line near the bottom of the paper. I squinted, but I couldn’t make it out from all the other lines spread over the blueprint. “According to Warren,” Kimi went on, tracing a finger up to another line, “the scepter is being held here, between floors twenty-nine and thirty.”

“I still don’t know how that’s possible,” I muttered. “How can a building have a floor between floors?”

“The same way I can have a mansion between the mortal world and the Nevernever, darling,” Leanansidhe answered, looking at Grimalkin as if she really wanted to shoo him off the piano. “The Iron fey have their horrible glamour, just as we have ours. We turn into rabbits, they eat bank accounts. Grim, darling, do you have to sleep there?”

“You, Puck and Ironhorse will come in here,” Kimi continued, tapping the bottom of the blueprint. “Past the doors will be the security checkpoint, which will scan your ID card. Puck and Ironhorse will be invisible to mortal eyes, so we don’t have to worry about them being seen.”

“What if there are Iron fey on the first floor?” Puck asked.

“There aren’t,” Kimi replied, glancing at him. “Nelson and I checked it out. If the Iron fey are going into the building, they’re not using the front doors.”

That sounded ominous, like the Iron fey could have hidden doors or trods we didn’t know about, but there was nothing for it now.

“Once you’re past the checkpoint, the elevators are here,” Kimi went on, tracing the path with her finger before giving us a grave look. “And this is where things get dicey. I don’t know how you’re getting up to floor twenty-nine and a half. They might have a certain button only those with Sight can see, or there might be a password, or you might have to press buttons in a certain sequence. I have no idea. Alternatively, you can take the stairs, here, but that will mean climbing up thirty floors from ground level, with no guarantee there will be an entrance to floor twenty-nine and a half.”

“We’ll burn that bridge when we come to it,” Puck said, waving it away. “So, what about the floor with the scepter? What can we expect?”

“Wait a minute,” I warned, putting a hand on his chest. “This sounds awfully risky. We don’t know if we can even get up to the twenty-ninth floor? How is this good planning?”

“Twenty-nine point five,” Puck corrected me. “And it’s not. Good planning, I mean. But, look at it this way.” He grinned. “We either go with our gut, or we don’t go at all. Not a lot of choices, Princess. But, don’t worry.” He put an arm around my shoulders and squeezed. “You don’t need a plan. You have the Puck with you, remember? I’m an expert at this. And I’ve never needed an elaborate plan to pull anything off.”

There was a loud clank from the piano, as Leanansidhe finally convinced Grimalkin to sleep elsewhere. Annoyed, the cat had slid from his perch and landed with his full weight on the keys, then leaped to the bench. “Worry not, human,” the cat sighed, giving himself a thorough shake. “I am going with you as well. With Goodfellow’s exemplary planning, someone has to make sure you go through the right door.”

“Huh.” Puck snorted and glared at the feline. “That’s awfully helpful of you, cat. What’s in it for you?”

“Grimalkin and I worked something out, darling, don’t worry about it.” Leanansidhe gave the blueprint a cursory glance over Puck’s shoulder before dismissing it with a sniff. “Remember, pets, when you get to the floor where the scepter is being held, you must be prepared for anything. Robin, it will be up to you and the iron thing to protect the princess. I’m quite sure they won’t have the scepter lying around where anyone can snatch it. There will most likely be guards, wards, nasty things like that.”

“I WILL PROTECT THE PRINCESS WITH MY LIFE,” Ironhorse boomed, making Puck grimace and Kimi pin back her ears. “I SWEAR, WHILE I STILL LIVE AND BREATHE, NO HARM WILL BEFALL HER. WE WILL RETRIEVE THE SCEPTER, OR WE WILL DIE TRYING.”

“And personally, I’d like not to do the dying thing,” Puck added.

I was about to agree, when there was a commotion in the hall, and a moment later a human rushed into the room. It was Charles, the crazy piano player, looking as wild and panicked as I’d ever seen, even more than when we’d faced the redcaps. His anguished brown eyes met mine and he lurched forward, only to be stopped by Ironhorse stepping in front of me with a warning growl.

“She…she’s leaving?” Charles looked utterly despondent, wringing his hands and biting his bottom lip. “No no no. Can’t leave again. Can’t disappear. Stay.”

“Charles.” Leanansidhe’s voice made the air tremble, and the poor man gave her a terrified look. “What are you doing here? Go back to your room.”

“It’s all right, Charles,” I said quickly, as he looked on the verge of tears. “I’m not leaving for good. I’m coming back, don’t worry.”

He stopped wringing his hands, straightened, and looked at me dead on. And for just a moment, I saw him without the crazy light to his eyes. The way he must have been…before. Young. Tall. Handsome, with laugh lines around his mouth and jaw. A kind yet weary face. One that was vaguely familiar.

“You’ll come back?” he murmured. “Promise?”

I nodded. “Promise.”

Then Leanansidhe clapped her hands, the sharp rap making us jump. “Charles, darling,” she said, and was it my imagination, or did she sound a bit nervous? “You heard the girl. She’ll be back. Now, why don’t you find the other Charles and find something to play tonight? Go on, now. Shoo.” She waved her hand, and Charles, with one last look at me, stumbled from the room.

I frowned at Leanansidhe. “Other Charles? There’s more than one?”

“I call them all Charles, darling.” Leanansidhe shrugged. “I’m horrible with names, as you’ve no doubt seen, and human males look virtually the same to me. So they’re all Charles, for simplicity’s sake.”

Grimalkin sighed and leaped from the bench. “We are wasting time,” he announced, bottlebrush tail held straight up as he trotted past. “If we are going to get this circus started, we should leave now.”

“Good luck, darlings,” Leanansidhe called as we followed Grim out of the room. “When you return, you must tell me all about it. Meghan, dove, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

KIMI AND NELSON LED the way back to the outside world. We followed them through several rooms, where groups of fey and humans watched us leave, down a red carpeted hallway, then up a long spiral staircase that finally stopped at a trapdoor in the ceiling. The trapdoor was oddly shaped: round, gray and heavy looking. I peered closer and saw that it was the bottom of a manhole cover. When Nelson pushed it up to peek through, bright sunlight spilled through the crack, and the smell of asphalt, tar and exhaust fumes assaulted my nose. While the half-troll scanned the road overhead, waiting for a clear spot, Kimi turned to me.

“This is as far as we go, I’m afraid.” The little half-phouka looked disappointed as she handed me a plastic ID card on a string.

“You’re not coming?”

She gave me an apologetic smile, nodding to Puck and Ironhorse. “Nah, you have your champions. Those two are pure-bloods. They’ll be invisible to humans just by virtue of being fey. Nelson and I can’t work glamour as well, and it would look suspicious if you were seen with a couple of streetrats in tow. Don’t worry, though. We’re really close to SciCorp, and from here you can take a taxi or something. Here.” She handed me a slip of paper, scrawled on with bright green ink. “That’s the address you’re looking for. The trod back will be on Fourteenth and Maple, and you want the second manhole from the left. Got it?”

I nodded, as my stomach fluttered nervously. “Got it.”

“Clear,” Nelson grunted, and shoved the manhole cover out of the way. Puck scrambled out first, then pulled me up after him. As Ironhorse and Grimalkin crawled out, I gazed around the middle of a busy street, A horn blared, and a bright red Mustang screeched to a stop a few feet away. “Get out of the road, you crazy bitch!” the driver yelled from the window, and I scrambled to the edge of the curb. The driver roared off, oblivious to the massive Iron faery who swung a huge fist at the hood, barely missing.

“You ran a light anyway, dickhead!” I yelled after him, as Puck and Ironhorse joined me on the sidewalk. People stared at me, shaking their heads or chuckling under their breath. I scowled, trying to calm my racing heart. They wouldn’t laugh if they could see Ironhorse looming over me like a protective bodyguard, glaring at anyone who got too close.

“Are you all right?” Puck asked anxiously, standing so close that his breath tickled my cheek. I nodded, and he kissed the top of my head, making butterflies swarm through my stomach. “Don’t scare me like that, Princess.”

“Well, that was amusing.” Grimalkin hopped lightly onto the sidewalk, making a show of taking his sweet time. “Are we quite ready to go, now? Human, you know where we are headed, correct?”

I looked down at the paper, still clutched in my hand. It trembled only a little. “You guys okay with taking a taxi?”

Puck made a face. “Now see, anyone else would have a few qualms about riding in a big metal box, but I’ve learned to deal.” He smirked. “All those years I took the bus with you was good practice. Still, keep the windows open, Princess.”

We found a pay phone, and I called for a taxi. Ten minutes later, a bright yellow cab pulled up, driven by a bearded man chewing a thick cigar. He kept glancing at me in the rearview window and smiling, oblivious to the two faeries pressed on either side of me, one glaring, one hanging his head out the window. I sat squashed between Puck and Ironhorse, with Grim on my lap and both windows rolled down, as we tore through the city streets. The smoke from the cabby’s cigar stung my nose and made my eyes water, and Puck looked positively green.

At last, we pulled up in front of a gleaming tower, the sunlight reflecting off the mirrored walls as they rose into the sky. I paid the cab fare, and we piled out of the car. As soon as we were free of the cab, Puck started coughing. He looked pale and sweaty, and my heart lurched, remembering Ash in the wasteland of the Iron fey. Ironhorse watched him curiously, as though fascinated, and Grimalkin sat down to wash his tail.

“Ugh, that was unpleasant,” Puck muttered when the harsh explosions finally stopped. He spit on the sidewalk and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I don’t know what was worse, the cab or the stench coming from the guy’s cigar.”

“Will you be all right?” I gave him a worried look, but he just grinned.

“Never better, Princess. So, here we are.” He craned his neck, gazing up at the looming expanse of SciCorp towers. His eyes gleamed with familiar mischief. “Let’s get this party started.”

MY HEART BEHAVED ITSELF until we passed through the large glass doors. Then it started beating my ribs so forcefully I thought they would break.

“Oh, wow,” I whispered, stopping to gape at the enormous lobby. A great vaulted ceiling soared above us, maybe eight or ten stories, with strange metallic designs dangling from wires, glittering in the sun. People in expensive suits rushed by us, designer shoes clicking over the sterile gray floor. I saw cameras in every corner, armed guards hovering by a turnstile security gate, and I locked my knees together to keep them from shaking.

“Steady, Princess.” As I stood there, gawking like an idiot, Puck’s firm hands came to rest on my shoulders. “You can do this. Keep your head up, your back straight, and it wouldn’t hurt to sneer at anyone who makes eye contact.” He squeezed my shoulders and bent close, his breath warm on my ear. “We’re right behind you.”

I gave my head a jerky bob. Puck squeezed my shoulders one last time and released me. Raising my chin, I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders and marched toward the security desk.

A guard in a slate-gray uniform eyed me with disinterest as I approached, looking the way I felt in algebra class, eyes glazed over and bored. The man in front of me muttered a quick, “Mornin’, Ed,” before passing his ID card under a scanner. The red light blipped to green, and the man swept through the turnstile.

My turn. Adopting what I hoped was an imperious expression, I sauntered up to the gate. “Good morning, Edward,” I greeted, slipping Rosalyn Smith’s badge under the flickering red scanner light. The guard bobbed his head with a polite smile, not even looking at me. Ha, I thought, triumphant. That was easy. We’re home free.

Then the scanner let out a shrill warning beep, and my heart stood still.

Ed stood up, frowning. “Sorry, miss,” he said, as ice water began creeping up my spine. “But I’ll have to see your badge.”

Puck, Grim and Ironhorse, already on the other side of the gate, looked back fearfully. I swallowed my terror, wondering if we should abandon the plan now and get the hell out. The guard held out his hand, waiting, and I forced myself to be calm.

“Of course.” Thankfully, my voice didn’t crack as I looped the badge from my neck and held it out. The guard took it and held it up to his face, squinting his eyes. I felt a dozen gazes on the back of my neck, and crossed my arms, trying to appear bored and irritated.

“Sorry, Ms. Smith.” Ed finally looked up at me. “But did you know your card expired yesterday? You’ll have to get a new one before tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Relief bloomed through my stomach. Maybe I could pull this off after all. “Of course,” I muttered, trying to sound embarrassed. “I’ve been meaning to renew it, but you know how busy it’s been lately. I just haven’t had the time. I’ll take care of it before I leave today. Thank you.”

“No problem, Ms. Smith.” Ed handed me the badge and tipped his hat. “You have a good morning.” He pressed a button and waved me through.

I hurried around a corner and collapsed against the wall before I started hyperventilating.

“None of that, Princess,” Puck said, pulling me to my feet just as a group of businessmen turned the corner, talking about reports and staff meetings and firing a junior executive. I avoided eye contact as they swept by, but they paid me no attention.

“By the way, you did great back there,” Puck went on as we made our way down the brightly lit corridor. “I thought you would lose it, but you kept it together. Nice job, Princess.”

I grinned.

“First hurdle cleared,” Puck continued cheerfully. “Now, all we have to do is find floor twenty-nine point five, grab the scepter, and get out again. We’re halfway home.”

Easy for him to say. My heart had gone into overdrive, and a cold sweat was still dripping down the backs of my knees. I was just about to say so, when I noticed we had another problem. “Um, where’s Grimalkin?”

We glanced around hastily, but the cat had disappeared. Maybe his faith in the plan had been shaken by the little scene at the gate, or maybe he’d just decided “the hell with this,” and had taken off. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“WHY WOULD HE ABANDON US?” Ironhorse questioned, making me wince as his voice echoed down the hall. Thank goodness humans couldn’t hear faeries, either. “I THOUGHT THE CAITH SITH HAD HONORABLE INTENTIONS. I WOULD NOT HAVE PEGGED HIM A COWARD.”

Puck snorted. “You don’t know Grimalkin very well, then,” he commented, but I wasn’t sure I agreed. Grimalkin had always come through for us, even when he disappeared with no explanation. Though Ironhorse looked stunned, I wasn’t worried; Grimalkin would most assuredly pop up again when least expected.

“Never mind.” I turned and continued walking. Ironhorse still looked confused, almost hurt that an ally could betray him like this. I gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, Ironhorse. Grim can take care of himself, and he’ll show up if we need him. We should keep looking for the scepter.”

“IF YOU SAY SO, PRINCESS.”

At the end of the corridor, we came to a pair of elevators.

“Floor twenty-nine point five,” I mused, pressing the up button. A few seconds passed before the doors opened with a ding and two women exited, passing us without a second glance. Peeking inside, I scanned the wall but, as I expected, there was no button 29.5.

I stepped over the threshold into the box, Ironhorse following at my heels. Cheerful orchestra music played at a muted volume over the speakers, and the floor was carpeted in red. Puck rushed inside and stood in the middle of the floor, away from the walls, arms crossed tightly to his chest. Ironhorse turned and blinked at him.

“ARE YOU ALL RIGHT, GOODFELLOW?” he asked, his voice nearly bringing tears to my eyes as it echoed within the box. Puck gave him a fearsome smile.

“Me? I’m fine. Big metal box in a big metal tube? Not a problem. Hurry and get us to the right floor, Princess.”

I nodded and unfolded a piece of paper from my suit pocket, holding it up to the light. “Well, here goes nothing,” I murmured, and started punching in the code on the elevator buttons. 1-1-1-3-1-2-2-1-1-3. The numbers lit up as they were punched, singing out a little tune like the buttons on a cell phone.

I hit the last 3 and stepped back, waiting and holding my breath. For a moment, nothing happened. Ironhorse’s raspy breathing echoed off the metal walls, filling the box with the smell of smoke. Puck coughed and muttered something under his breath. I started to punch the code in again, thinking I’d pressed a wrong button, when the doors swooshed shut. The lights dimmed, the music ceased, and a large white button shimmered into existence, marked with a bold 29.5.

I shared a glance with my companions, who nodded.

“Floor twenty-nine point five,” I whispered, and hit the button with my thumb. “Going up.”

THE ELEVATOR STOPPED, and the doors opened with a cheerful ding.

We peered out at a long, brightly lit hallway with numerous doors lining its walls and gray tiles leading to single door at the very end. I knew we were in the right place. I could feel it in the air, a faint buzz, a sharp tingle just below my skin. It made my neck hairs stand on end, and was oddly familiar. Glancing at Puck and Ironhorse, I knew they could feel it, too.

We inched down the corridor, Puck in front and Ironhorse bringing up the rear. Around us, our footsteps echoed in the silence. We passed doors without hesitation, knowing they were the wrong ones. I could feel the buzzing getting louder the closer we got to the end of the hall.

Then, we were at the last door, and Puck leaned against it, putting his ear to the wood. I don’t hear anything, he mouthed at us, and pointed to the handle. Shall we?

Ironhorse nodded, clenching his massive fists. Puck reached down and freed his daggers, gesturing to me with a point. Biting my lip, I reached out and carefully turned the handle.

The door swung forward with a creak, and a waft of frigid air hit me in the face. I shivered, resisting the impulse to rub my arms as my breath clouded the air before me. Someone had cranked the AC down to like zero degrees; the room was a freezer box as we stepped inside.

A dozen or so humans in expensive business suits sat around a long, U-shaped table in the center of the floor. From the looks of it, we had interrupted a business meeting, for they all turned and stared at me with various degrees of annoyance and confusion. At the end of the table, a swivel chair sat with its back to us, hiding the speaker or CEO or whoever was in charge. I suddenly remembered all the times I’d snuck into class late and had to scurry down the aisles to my desk while everyone watched. My face burned, and for a moment, you could hear a pin drop.

“Um, sorry,” I muttered, backing away. The business suits continued to stare at me. “Sorry. Wrong room. We’ll just…go.”

“Oh, why don’t you stick around, my dear.” The buzzing, high-pitched voice made my skin crawl. At the front of the table, the figure swiveled the chair around to face us, smiling. She wore a neon-green business suit, radioactive-blue lipstick, and bright yellow glasses above a thin, sneering face. Her hair, a myriad of computer cables, was bound atop her head in a colorful mockery of a bun. She held the scepter in green-nailed hands, like a queen observing her subjects, and my stomach gave a jolt of recognition.

“VIRUS!” Ironhorse boomed.

“No need to shout, old man. I’m right here.” Virus put her heels on the table and regarded us smugly. “I’ve been waiting for you, girl. Looking for this, are you?” She lifted her arm, and I gasped. The Scepter of the Seasons pulsed a strange, sickly green light through her fingers. Virus bared her teeth in a smile. “I was expecting the girl and her clown to come sniffing after it, but I never expected the honorable Ironhorse to turn on us. Tsk-tsk.” She shook her head. “Loyalty is so overrated these days. How the mighty have fallen.”

“YOU DARE ACCUSE ME?” Ironhorse stalked forward, smoke drifting from his mouth and nostrils. We hurried after him. “YOU ARE THE BETRAYER, WHO FOLLOWS THE COMMANDS OF THE FALSE KING. YOU ARE THE ONE WHO HAS FALLEN.”

“Don’t be so melodramatic,” Virus sighed. “As usual, you have no idea what is really going on. You think I want to follow the wheezings of an obsolete monarch? I want that even less than you. When he put me in charge of stealing the scepter, I knew that was the last command I would ever follow. Poor Tertius, believing I was still loyal to his false king. The gullible fool handed me the scepter without a second thought.” She smiled at us, fierce and terrible. “Now, I have the Scepter of the Seasons. I have the power. And if the false king wants it, he’ll have to take it from me by force.”

“I see,” I said, coming to a stop a few feet from her. Around us, the men in business suits continued to stare. “You want to become the next ruler. You had no intention of giving it to the Iron King.”

“Can you blame me?” Virus swung her feet off the table to smile at me. “How often have you disobeyed your king because his commands were rubbish? Goodfellow—” she pointed the scepter at Puck “—how often has the thought of rebelling crossed your mind? Don’t tell me you’ve been a faithful little monkey, catering to Oberon’s every desire, in all the years you’ve known him.”

“That’s different,” I said.

“Really?” Virus sneered at me. “I can tell you, it wasn’t difficult to convince Rowan. That boy’s hatred and jealousy are inspiring. All he needed was a little push, a tiny promise of power, and he betrayed everything he knew. He was the one who told me you were coming for the scepter, you know.” She snorted. “Of course, the claims of becoming immune to iron are completely false. As if thousands of years of history can be rewritten or erased. Iron and technology have been and will always be lethal to the traditional fey. That’s why we’re so inherently superior to you oldbloods. That’s why you’re going to fall so easily after the war.”

Ironhorse growled, the furious rumble of an oncoming train. “I WILL TAKE THAT SCEPTER AND PLACE THE TRUE MONARCH OF THE IRON FEY ON THE THRONE,” he vowed, taking a threatening step forward. “YOU WILL GIVE IT TO ME NOW, TRAITOR. YOUR HUMAN PUPPETS WILL NOT BE ENOUGH TO PROTECT YOU.”

“Ah ah ah.” Virus waggled a finger at him. “Not so fast. I didn’t want my drones up here because they are delicate and rather squishy, but I’m not quite so stupid as to be unguarded.” She smiled and gazed around the table. “All right, gentlemen. Meeting adjourned.”

At that, all the humans sitting at the tables stood, shedding glamour like discarded jackets, filling the air with fraying strands of illusion. Human facades dropped away, to reveal a dozen faeries in spiky black armor, their faces sickly and pale beneath their helms. As one, the Thornguards drew their serrated black swords and pointed them at us, trapping us in a ring of faery steel.

My stomach twisted violently, wanting to crawl up my throat and make a break for the door. I heard Puck’s exhalation of breath and Ironhorse’s dismayed snort as he pressed closer to me. Virus snickered, leaning back in her chair.

“I’m afraid you’ve walked nose first into a trap, m’dears,” she gloated as we tensed, ready to run or fight. “Oh, but you don’t want to rush off now. I have one last little surprise for you.” She giggled and snapped her fingers.

The door behind her creaked, and a dark figure stepped into the room, coming to stand behind the chair. This time, my heart dropped to my toes and stayed there.

“I’m sure you four know each other,” Virus said, as my world shrank down to a narrow tunnel, blocking everything else out. “My greatest creation so far, I think. It took six Thornguards and nearly two dozen drones to bring him down, but it was so worth it. Ironic, isn’t it? He nearly got away with the scepter the first time, and now he’ll do anything to keep it here.”

No, my mind whispered. This isn’t happening. No no no no no.

“Ash,” Virus purred as the figure came into the light, “say hello to our guests.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN Traitor

I stared at Ash in a daze, torn between relief that he was alive and an acute, sickening despair. This couldn’t be real, what was happening. I had stepped into a nightmare world, where everything I loved was twisted into something monstrous and horrible. My legs felt weak, and I had to lean against Puck or I would’ve fallen.

Ironhorse snorted. “AN ILLUSION,” he mocked, staring at Ash in contempt. “A SIMPLE GLAMOUR, NOTHING MORE. I HAVE SEEN WHAT HAPPENS TO THE OLDBLOODS YOU IMPLANT WITH YOUR FOUL BUGS. THEY GO MAD, AND THEN THEY DIE. THAT IS NOT THE WINTER PRINCE, ANY MORE THAN THESE GUARDS.”

“You think?” Virus’s grin was frighteningly smug. “Well, if you’re so sure, old man, you’re welcome to try to stop him. It should be easy to defeat one simple guard, although I think you’ll find the task harder than you ever expected.” She turned a purely sadistic smile on me. “The princess knows, don’t you, my dear?”

Ironhorse turned, a question in his eyes, but I couldn’t take my gaze off Virus’s bodyguard. “It’s not an illusion,” I whispered. “It really is him.” The way my heart fluttered around my chest proved this was real. I stepped forward, ignoring the bristling Thornguard weapons, and the prince’s gaze sharpened, cutting me like a knife. “Ash,” I whispered, “it’s me. Are you hurt? Say something.”

Ash regarded me blankly, no glint of recognition in his silver eyes: no anger, sorrow, nothing. “All of you,” he said in a quiet voice, “will die.”

Shock and horror lanced through me, holding me immobile. Virus giggled her hateful, buzzing laugh. “It’s no use,” she taunted. “He hears you, he even recognizes you, but he remembers nothing of his old life. He’s been completely reprogrammed, thanks to my bug. And now, he listens only to me.”

I looked closer, and my heart twisted even more. In the shadows of the room, the prince’s face was ashen, the skin pulled so tight across his bones it had split in places, showing open wounds beneath. His cheeks were hollow, and his eyes, though blank and empty, were bright with unspoken pain. I recognized that look; it was the same look Edgebriar had turned on us in the cave, teetering on the edge of madness. “It’s killing him,” I whispered.

“Well, only a little.”

“Stop it,” I hissed, and Virus arched a sardonic eyebrow. My heart pounded, but I set my jaw and plunged on. “Please,” I begged, stepping forward. “Let him go. Let me take his place. I’ll sign a contract, make a bargain, anything, if that’s what you want. But take the bug out of his head and let him go.”

“Meghan!” Puck snapped, and Ironhorse stared at me in horror. I didn’t care. I couldn’t let Ash fade away into nothing, as if he had never existed at all. I imagined myself in a field of white flowers, watching a ghostly Ash and Ariella dance together in the moonlight, together at last. Except it would be a lie. Ash wouldn’t be with his true love, even in death. He wouldn’t be anything.

Virus chuckled. “Such devotion,” she murmured, rising from the chair. “I’m terribly moved. Come here, Ash.” Ash immediately stepped up beside her, and Virus laid a hand on his chest. “You should congratulate me,” Virus continued, regarding the prince like a student with a winning science project. “I’ve finally discovered a way to implant my bugs in the fey system without killing them outright, or driving them mad within the first few hours. Instead of rewriting his brain—” she stroked Ash’s hair, and I clenched my shaking fists, fighting the urge to leap across the table and rip out her eyes “—I had it take over his cervical nervous system, here.” Her fingers dropped to the base of his skull, caressing it. “You’re welcome to try to carve it out, I suppose, but I’m afraid that will be quite fatal for him. Only I can order my bugs to willingly release their hosts. As for your offer…” She threw me an indulgent smile. “You have only one thing I want, and I will take that from you momentarily. No, I find that I prefer my bodyguard as he is, for however long he has left.”

My heart pounded. He was so close. I could reach over the table, grab his hand and pull him to safety. “Ash!” I cried, holding out my hand. “Jump, now! Come on, you can fight it. Please…” My voice dropped to a whisper. “Don’t do this. Don’t make us fight you…”

Ash gazed straight ahead, not moving a muscle, and a sob tore free from my throat. I couldn’t reach him. Ash was lost to us. The cold stranger across the table had taken his place.

“Well.” Virus took a step back. “This has grown tiresome. I think it’s time I took what I want from you, my dear. Ash.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Kill the princess. Kill them all.”

With a flash of blue light, Ash drew his sword and slashed it across the table. It happened so quickly, I didn’t even have time to scream before the icy blade streaked down at my face.

Puck lunged in front of me and caught the blade with his own, deflecting it with a screech and a flurry of sparks. I stumbled back and Puck grabbed my wrist, dragging me away even as I protested. “Retreat!” he yelled as the Thornguards leaped across the tables with a roar. I looked back and saw Ash jump gracefully onto the table, his terrible blank gaze fastened on me. “Ironhorse, fall back, there are too many of them!”

With a bellow and a blast of flame, Ironhorse reared up into his true form, breathing fire and lashing out with his hooves. The guards fell back in shock and Ironhorse charged, knocking several aside and clearing a path to the door. As the huge Iron fey thundered past, Puck shoved me toward the exit. “Go!” he shouted, and whirled to block Ash’s sword, slicing down at his back.

“Ash, stop this!” I cried, but the Winter prince paid me no attention. As the Thornguards closed on us again, Puck snarled a curse and threw a fuzzy black ball into their midst.

It burst into a maddened grizzly, which reared up with a booming roar, startling everything in the room. As the Thornguards and Ash turned toward this new threat, Puck grabbed my hand and yanked me out of the room.

“Been saving that, just in case,” he panted, as Ironhorse snorted with appreciation. “Now let’s get out of here.”

We ran for the elevator. The hallway seemed longer now, the steel doors deliberately keeping their distance. I looked back once and saw Ash stalking toward us, his sword radiating blue light through the corridor. The icy calm on his face sent a bolt of raw fear through me, and I wrenched my eyes from him.

Ahead of us, the elevator dinged. A second later, the doors slid open, and a squadron of Thornguards stepped into the hall.

“Oh, you gotta be kidding me,” Puck exclaimed as we skidded to a halt. As one, the knights drew their swords and marched forward in unison, filling the corridor with the ring of their boots.

I looked behind us. Ash was advancing steadily as well, his eyes glassy and terrifying.

A click echoed through the hall and miraculously, one of the side doors swung open.

“How predictable,” Grimalkin sighed, appearing in the doorway. We gaped at him, and he regarded us with amusement. “I thought you might need a second way out. Why is it always up to me to think of these things?”

“I would kiss you, cat,” Puck said as we crowded through the doorway, “if we weren’t in such a hurry. Also, the hairballs could be unpleasant.”

I slammed the door and leaned against it, gasping as we took in our newest surroundings. A vast white room stretched before us, filled with hundreds upon hundreds of cubicles, creating a labyrinth of aisles. A low hum vibrated in the air, accompanied by the rhythmic sound of tapping keys. Humans sat at desks within each cubicle, dressed in identical white shirts and gray pants, staring glassy-eyed at the monitors as they typed away.

“Whoa,” Puck muttered, looking around. “Cubicle hell.”

Simultaneously, the tapping stopped. Chairs shifted and groaned as every single human in the room stood up and, as one, turned in our direction. And, as one, they opened their mouths and spoke.

“We see you, Meghan Chase. You will not escape.”

If I hadn’t been filled with a hollow, bone-numbing despair, I would’ve been terrified. Puck cursed and pulled out his dagger just as a boom shook the door behind us. “Looks like we’re going straight through,” he muttered, narrowing his eyes. “Grimalkin, get moving! Rusty, clear us a path!”

Grimalkin bounded into the maze, dodging feet and weaving through legs as the hordes of zombie-drones shuffled toward us. Ironhorse pawed the tile, put his head down and charged with a roar. Drones flung themselves at him, punching and clawing, but they bounced off or were thrown aside as the angry Iron fey stampeded through the hall. Puck and I followed in his wake, leaping over downed bodies, dodging the hands that grabbed for us. Someone latched on to my ankle once, but I let out a shriek and kicked him in the face, knocking him back. He fell away clutching my shoe, and I quickly shook the other off, running barefoot through the hall.

The maze of aisles and cubicles seemed to go on forever. I glanced over my shoulder and saw the mob of zombie heads bobbing above the cubicle walls, following us.

“Dammit,” Puck snarled, following my gaze, “they’re coming fast. How much farther, cat?”

“Here,” Grimalkin said, darting around a cubicle. The room finally ended with a stark white wall and a door in the corner, marked with an Exit sign. “The emergency stairs,” he explained as we rushed forward in relief. “This will take us to the street level. Hurry!”

As we charged the door, Ash stepped out of an aisle next to us, appearing from nowhere. There was no time to think or scream a warning. I threw myself to the side, hitting the wall with a jolt that knocked the wind from my lungs.

Time seemed to slow. Puck and Ironhorse bellowed something from far away. A blinding stab of pain shot up my arm. When I grabbed for it, my palm came away slick and wet. For a second, I stared at my fingers, not understanding.

What happened? Did Ash…do this? Ash cut me?

Stunned, I looked up into the glassy eyes of the Unseelie prince, his sword raised for the killing blow.

For just a moment, he hesitated. I saw the sword waver as his arm trembled, a flicker of torment crossing his face. Just a moment, before the blade came flashing down, but it was enough time for Ironhorse to lunge between us, shoving Ash away. I heard the hideous screech of metal as the blade ripped into Ironhorse’s side and he staggered, almost going to his knees. Then Puck was pulling me to my feet, yelling at Ironhorse to get moving, and I was being dragged through the door, screaming at Puck to let me go. Ironhorse lurched to his feet and followed, dripping a thick black substance behind him, his wheezing breaths echoing down the stairwell. As we escaped SciCorp and fled into the streets, the last thing I remembered was watching the door close behind me on the stairs and seeing Ash’s face through the window, a single tear frozen on his cheek.