The Iron Traitor (The Iron Fey)

by Julie Kagawa

  Well, I’d seen that firsthand now, and it was pretty horrible. A couple months ago, I wouldn’t have cared about the fate of exiled fey. If they disappeared from the world forever, good. Fewer faeries to torment me.

  It was different now.

  “I’m sorry,” Annwyl finally whispered, lowering her arms. “I let my guard down. I stopped trying to remember who Kenzie was, who you were, why we’re here. I’m so tired. I want to let go, to stop fighting this.” She sank onto the mattress and bowed her head, long chestnut-colored hair sliding forward to cover her face. “I just want to see Keirran one more time.”

  I sat next to her, not touching, but letting her know I was there. “We’ll find him,” I said, hoping I wasn’t making empty promises. “Just hang on a little longer. And who knows? Maybe he’s found something to stop it.”

  But Annwyl shuddered. “I hope not,” she murmured. “The price would be so high. And so dangerous. Cheating death, even if it’s not your own...” She shook her head. “Even our kind avoids making that type of bargain at all costs.” She shivered again. “We have to find him, Ethan. Stop him from whatever he’s planning to do. Before he promises something he can’t ever take back.”

  “Yeah,” I rasped, standing up. “That’s why we’re here.” Grabbing my backpack, I set it on the bed and rifled through it to make sure I had everything I needed. Besides a change of clothes, my laptop and my toothbrush, I also brought a small canister of salt, several bottles of honey and my old leather journal containing all my research on the fey. Digging it out, I flipped it open to a blank page and scribbled: Laffite’s Blacksmith Shop—entrance to goblin market. Go in left door, turn widdershins 3 times, leave thru right door. I paused a moment, tapping my pen on the paper, then also wrote down: Dryads of City Park—3 oaks near edge of pond; be polite.

  And under that: Who was the Oracle? What is the prophecy?

  My pen wavered as the Oracle’s vision crept up again: me dead on the ground at Keirran’s feet. Keirran covered in blood but looking unharmed. And Annwyl’s comments about the fey’s price for cheating death cast a sudden, dark thought into my mind.

  What if Keirran was the one to...

  I shook my head, snapping the journal shut. No, I wouldn’t think about that. That vision could be anything. Even if it was true, what was I going to do? Leave? Refuse to help him and Annwyl? Abandon Keirran to whatever crazy, dangerous thing he might be doing out there? I couldn’t. He was family. I owed it to him, and Annwyl, and even Meghan, to help.

  Stuffing the journal into the pack again, I turned to Annwyl, still sitting on the bed. “Come on,” I told her, making her look up in surprise. “I’m starving. Before I go looking for a market full of bloodthirsty goblins, I at least want breakfast.”

  * * *

  My phone didn’t ring all afternoon. Except one time at the coffee shop, when I got an irate call from Dad because I hadn’t let them know I made it to New Orleans. I debated whether or not to call Kenzie, but each time decided against it. She was probably still pissed at me. Besides, she was likely with her family now, touring the streets of New Orleans. She didn’t need me hanging around.

  Still, I found myself gazing out the window of the small coffee shop, looking for a girl with blue streaks in her hair. Even now, hours away from walking into a street teeming with dangerous fey and forbidden items, I couldn’t stop thinking of her. I wondered if she would even want me around after this. I’d screwed this boyfriend thing up big-time, but if it meant keeping her safe, I would deal with the terrible wrath I knew was coming. Maybe she wouldn’t be able to get past this. She might dump me, and the saddest thing was, that was probably for the best.

  I brooded into my coffee. Across the table, Annwyl curled her fingers around a cup of tea, gazing blankly out the window. I peeked up at her and frowned. I didn’t like how the sunlight seemed to be shining right through her, making her almost transparent. On the tile floor, I could see the shadow of myself, hunched over my cup, but nothing in the seat across from me.

  “Hey,” I said quietly, so as not to alert the people around us. “Annwyl. Talk to me.”

  She blinked out of her trance. “Hmm?”

  I had to keep her talking, keep her remembering, about anything. If she started Fading right here in the coffee shop, I’d look like a nutcase when I leaped up and started yelling at nothing. At worst, someone would call the cops. “Tell me something about yourself,” I said, and she gave me a puzzled look. “What did you do in the Summer Court?”

  Her brow furrowed. It looked like recalling the past was difficult. “The Summer Court,” she began in a slow, halting voice. “I don’t...remember much now. Trees and sunlight. Music. I was happy there, I think.”

  Her voice became wistful and very sad on the last sentence, and I switched tactics. “So, how did Keirran ever get you to talk to him?” I went on. “Didn’t he tell me you sicced a pack of undines on him when he was visiting Arcadia one day?”

  “Undines,” Annwyl repeated. Suddenly, her eyes darkened, a shadow falling over her face as she stared into her cup. “I remember that day,” she murmured, sounding very unlike herself, solemn and grim, and choked with guilt. “Keirran was only trying to talk to me and...I almost had him drowned.”

  “What happened?”

  She fiddled with the edge of her cup, a very human gesture of embarrassment. “One afternoon, I was beside the river that separates Arcadia from the wyldwood when I looked up and saw him on the other bank. I knew he was there for me—he’d been trying to get me alone ever since that night at Elysium when I danced for the court. Back then, I was afraid of him. He was the son of the Iron Queen, and there were all sorts of rumors about the horrible things he did to regular fey. So when I saw him at the river that day, I didn’t know what he wanted, and I think I panicked a little.” Annwyl winced. “I asked the undines to stop him from crossing to the other side. He was walking over the bridge, and they just...yanked him right in.”

  I snorted a laugh into my coffee, managing to turn it into a cough. It was hard to picture the calm, refined Iron Prince getting dragged into a river by a school of water faeries. Sort of like Batman falling off his batcycle; it simply didn’t happen. “Was he mad?” I chuckled. Annwyl grimaced.

  “He nearly died,” she admitted, making me sober quickly. “I didn’t tell the undines how to stop him, so naturally they tried to stop him permanently. I could see them in the center of the river, the whole school, all trying to drag him to the bottom to drown. But the strangest thing was, Keirran didn’t fight back. Not lethally. I’ve seen him fight—I know he could have drawn his sword and sliced them all to pieces, but he didn’t.”

  “How’d he get out?”

  “He froze the whole river,” Annwyl whispered, and I raised my eyebrows. “The water turned frigid, and the surface iced over as far as I could see. Everything around it became covered in frost.”

  “Geez,” I muttered.

  “Undines are Summer fey, so they can’t stand cold water,” Annwyl went on. “I don’t know what exactly happened between them and Keirran once the surface iced over—they were all underwater when it happened. I do remember standing at the edge of the bank, looking at the frozen river and waiting for Keirran to surface. I thought I really might have killed him, and I was terrified.”

  “I assume he finally surfaced.”

  The Summer girl smiled faintly. “No,” she said. “I never saw him break out. I kept waiting for him, when suddenly, I heard a quiet ‘Excuse me,’ at my back. I turned, and he was right there, dripping wet and smiling.”

  I snorted. “Show-off.”

  Annwyl’s smile grew wider, though more wistful. “He wasn’t even angry,” she murmured. “I think I started falling for him that very afternoon. Though I didn’t know it until later, and even then, I thought it could never work between us. The courts would never allow it.” She gazed into her cup, her eyes far away. “We had...a few nights. When he would sneak out of Mag Tuiredh and come vis
it me, first in Arcadia and then at Leanansidhe’s. I wish we’d had more time. But it doesn’t matter now.” Her gaze darkened again, and she closed her eyes. “I’ll be gone soon enough. And Keirran will move on. It’s better that way.”

  I started to reply, when there was a dark shimmer outside the window, like an ink blot moving through water, and my skin prickled.

  Not far from where we sat, perched on the railing of a balcony across the street, a shadowy thing watched us with glowing yellow eyes. Annwyl followed my gaze, and her face tightened with fear.

  I drained the last of my coffee and rose. Without speaking, Annwyl and I hurried back to the hotel room, where I dug a sprig of Saint-John’s-wort out of my backpack and taped it to the door. I also poured a line of salt across the windowsills, not caring what the cleaning ladies would think when they came in. Small precautions. Not perfect, but better than nothing.

  “Get some rest,” I told Annwyl, flopping down on one of the beds. “Looks like we’re stuck here until tonight. Might as well sleep while we can.” Not that I thought I could relax enough to sleep; I’d likely stay up with my swords close by, just in case any shadowy figures slipped under the door and into the room. But Annwyl looked tired and still frighteningly pale.

  Better than she had in the truck, and much better than that awful moment when she’d started to Fade from existence, but she still didn’t look great.

  The Summer girl didn’t argue. Settling wearily atop the other bed, she curled into herself and closed her eyes. I waited a few minutes, then quietly eased off my bed, grabbed my laptop and swords, and settled in the armchair in the corner.

  “Ethan?” came Annwyl’s soft voice after a few minutes of silence. I’d thought she had fallen asleep, and glanced up in surprise.

  “Yeah?”

  The Summer faery hesitated, her back still to me. “I wish I could express how grateful I am,” she murmured. “My kind doesn’t say...those words...but you’ve done so much for me and Keirran. I just want to say...”

  “It’s fine, Annwyl.” I spoke quickly to reassure her. “You don’t have to say it. I know what you mean.” She relaxed, her shoulders slumping in relief. “You’re welcome, but we haven’t found Keirran yet. Just concentrate on not Fading away until we do.”

  I saw her nod, and a few minutes later, she seemed truly asleep. In the silence, the urge to call Kenzie returned, stronger than ever. I missed her. I hated the thought that she was angry with me now. But I didn’t regret my decision. In a few hours, Annwyl and I would head into the dangerous, unpredictable goblin market, and it was better that Kenzie stay far away from the madness.

  If I was being honest with myself, she’d be better off staying away from me, too.

  * * *

  The hours dragged and yet went more quickly than I would’ve liked, every minute bringing us closer to midnight. Annwyl slept most of the afternoon; maybe she’d never really gotten to sleep until now, or maybe her condition made her tired and sluggish, sort of like having the flu. I didn’t know, but she politely declined leaving the room when I headed out to get food. Fearful of having her disappear, I grabbed a couple candy bars from the vending machine outside and hurried back to find she had fallen asleep again. Restless, I watched TV and Netflix and envied the faery, still curled up on the bed. She did wake up later that evening when I forced her to go to McDonald’s with me because I was starving after nothing but chocolate bars for lunch. But she remained quiet and nervous, not speaking much. Truthfully, I was more than a little nervous, too.

  At eleven-thirty, I grabbed my backpack, stuffed my swords inside, out of sight of the public eye, and turned to Annwyl.

  “Ready?”

  “Yes,” she replied, with a determination that reminded me of someone on the way to the gallows. Terrified but resolved to show no fear. “Let’s go find Keirran.”

  Bourbon Street wasn’t far, and New Orleans glowed an eerie green and orange under the light of the full moon. It was almost surreal. We walked the couple blocks to the famous street, passing neon signs and lampposts shining feebly in the artificial haze. People wandered by, not paying any attention to either me or the faery at my side. A goblin peered at us from a narrow alley, picking his teeth with a fragment of bone, but didn’t make any move to follow.

  Laffite’s Blacksmith Shop was a tiny building on the corner of St. Philip and Bourbon Street. From the outside, it looked deliberately run-down, white plaster peeling away to reveal spots of red brick. Wooden shutters and doors stood open to the night, and an old-fashioned lantern hung beside the entrance, flickering orange.

  I gazed behind us to the road, watching cars cruise down Bourbon Street and people drift over the sidewalks. With the orange lights, full moon and faint strands of jazz music playing from one of the open bars, New Orleans did have a magical quality to it. I knew why this place was such a haven for the fey, and I knew they were out there, skulking between buildings and slipping invisibly through crowds. Still, I couldn’t imagine the whole street teeming with faeries, an entire marketplace of them. I hoped that dryad knew what she was talking about.

  Annwyl and I crossed the street and ducked through the leftmost door of Laffite’s bar to find ourselves in a dim, old-fashioned room. Round wooden tables were scattered about a stone floor, and the bar stood against the back wall, most of the stools occupied. The only lights came from the candles set on the tables and hanging from the walls, and the flames in the huge stone fireplace in the center of the room.

  Someone pushed past me from behind, jostling me with barely a grunt of apology. I stepped farther into the bar and glanced back for Annwyl, nearly lost in the shadows.

  “All right,” I muttered, stepping up to the fireplace and turning to face the doors. Annwyl followed silently. “So, according to the dryads, we just have to turn widdershins three times and walk out the door on the right—left now, since we came inside—and we’ll be in the market.” I checked my watch to make sure it was 12:00 a.m. Six minutes past midnight. “On three?”

  She nodded, and on my signal, we closed our eyes and spun counterclockwise in place three times, me feeling slightly ridiculous and hoping no one was watching.

  On the first two circles, nothing happened. But when we completed the third, I opened my eyes to find the inside of the bar had...changed. It wasn’t full of fey. The lights and tables and patrons sat where they had always been; really nothing had moved. But everything around us was slightly out of focus. Conversations were muted, and everything seemed to be going in slow motion.

  Except us. And the door a few yards away. It stood out sharply against the blurred, hazy backdrop, the opening shimmering like heat waves. That was it. Our entrance to the goblin market.

  I nudged Annwyl, and together we walked across the floor, past indistinct shadows and nearly frozen candle flames, and ducked through the opening.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  SECRETS FOR SECRETS

  Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore was the cheesy first thought that went through my head as we stepped out into the street.

  Noise surrounded us—not the muffled sounds of cars and street traffic at night, but the louder, garbled sounds of a huge crowd. “Normal” Bourbon Street had disappeared; though I could see it was still the same stretch of pavement, the same buildings lining the sidewalks, it was definitely not the same world. Streetlamps had been replaced with torches and faery fire, orbs of blue-white flame floating overhead. There were no cars, but horse-drawn carriages glided down the road—only the horses’ hooves never touched the ground, and their eyes glowed blue in the shadows. The buildings, though they looked the same at first, appeared old and run-down on closer inspection, covered in vines and moss, as if we had stepped back in time a hundred years.

  And of course, there were the fey.

  They were everywhere, milling about the road in huge numbers, faeries of every shape, size and description. Short, warty goblins with beady eyes and huge ears. Hulking ogres, their thick knuckles dragging
along the ground as they lumbered by. Redcaps flashing their shark-toothed grins at everyone. Rail-thin bogeys hiding in the shadows and narrow crevices. And faeries I didn’t have a name for, all wandering down Bourbon Street, looking like the world’s largest freak convention.

  Oh, this was going to suck.

  Shrugging off my backpack, I pulled out my swords and slipped them onto my belt. No way I was going out there unarmed. Taking out my jacket, I shrugged into it and pulled up the hood, hoping it would shield me from any curious looks. And if my luck held, hide the fact that I was human long enough to find Keirran and get out of here without trouble.

  Glancing at Annwyl, who looked slightly overwhelmed as well, I grimaced. “Ready for this?”

  “No,” she replied, her eyes wide. “But...lead the way.”

  We slipped onto the crowded road, moving more slowly than I would’ve liked. Faeries weren’t the only thing making the street difficult to navigate. Booths and wooden tables were arranged in narrow aisles down the pavement, displaying the weirdest merchandise you’d ever see in your life: weeping fish and glass eyes and jewelry made of bones and teeth. Bird skeletons, crystal balls, shriveled hands and hats that whispered to you as you passed. A yellow-eyed woman in gypsy robes caught my eye and grinned, beckoning me toward her booth, waving a deck of cards in her long fingers. A kimono-clad girl with fox ears peeking from her hair gave me a coy smile, fluttering a fan and pointing to her table of rice cakes. I ignored them all and hurried on.

  After several minutes of wandering the aisles and dodging requests by persistent vendors to take a look at their goods, it became pretty apparent that the chances of just stumbling into Keirran were slim to none. This place was massive; I could walk right past the Iron Prince and never know. Luckily, that hadn’t been my only plan. I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, though, because it meant I was going to have to do something I hated and tried to avoid at all costs.