The Iron Traitor (The Iron Fey)

by Julie Kagawa

  I blinked, staring at Kenzie and her dad, suddenly understanding a lot more. Kenzie’s eyes glimmered, and she stood with her back straight, daring her father to say something. Mr. St. James did nothing. He stood there, blank and unresponsive, his face giving nothing away.

  Say something, I wanted to shout at him. Tell her she’s wrong. He didn’t, though there was something in his dark eyes that might’ve been a flicker of regret. But I might have imagined it; his poker face was flawless. If he felt anything, Kenzie would never guess. No wonder she thought he didn’t care.

  “Kenzie, Ethan.” Keirran’s soft, desperate voice drifted up from behind us, though we couldn’t look at him. “We’re running out of time. Please, hurry.”

  Kenzie sniffled and drew in a quiet breath. “Ethan and I...are going home, now,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “We have a friend who needs us, and I can’t stay here any longer. You guys stay, finish your trip. This was never a vacation for me.”

  “Kenzie, no.” It was her stepmom who spoke this time. The blonde woman came around the bed to stand beside her father. “You’re not running off with that boy alone. Michael, tell her she can’t go.”

  “You can’t stop me.” Kenzie took a step back, brushing my arm. “Why should you even care what I do? But our friend is in trouble, and we’re just going home. I’ll see you guys when you get back.”

  Her dad shook his head, as if coming out of a trance. “Mackenzie, if you walk out of this room, I’ll have that boy arrested.” She spun on him furiously, and my heart stalled. “I’m still your father,” Mr. St. James continued in a stony voice. “I don’t care what you think of me, what stories you’ve told yourself to make this all right. But I am not letting you go anywhere with him. You will stay here, with your family, and he will walk away before security drags him out.”

  “You can’t do that!”

  “You are sixteen!” Kenzie’s father exploded, making us both jump. “You are sixteen, you are sick, and I am not going to lose you like I did Emily. You are not going anywhere!”

  “Enough!”

  Keirran’s voice rang out behind us, and the sudden icy desperation in it caused a chill to run up my spine. Kenzie and I spun to see the Iron Prince staring past us, one arm still around Annwyl, his face hard and determined. Eyes narrowed, he raised a hand toward Kenzie’s father, and the room filled with glamour.

  I couldn’t see it, and it wasn’t the cold, lethal glamour released in Mr. Dust’s back room. But I could still feel the air turn heavy, dense, like stepping into a sauna without the heat. My eyelids drooped, and I struggled to stay on my feet, leaning against the wall to hold myself up. Kenzie swayed, and I pulled her to me before she could collapse.

  Keirran’s clear, quiet voice seemed to echo all around me, coming from everywhere, slipping into my head. “Mackenzie St. James is fine,” it promised, like a lullaby soothing me to sleep. “You sent her away to live with a relative, and she won’t be back for a long while. She is perfectly safe, happy and content, so you don’t need to worry about her anymore.”

  No, I thought, though I didn’t know exactly why. I struggled to think, to break free of the fog clouding my brain. This...isn’t right.

  The sluggishness faded. I shook myself and looked down at Kenzie, leaning against my chest, blinking in confusion. I looked to her parents. Her dad still stood where he was, but his face was slack, his eyes blank and unseeing. Her stepmom had sunk onto the bed with the same glazed expression, and in the chair, Alex had fallen asleep.

  “Come on,” I heard a voice say, Keirran’s I think, sounding flat and tired. “Let’s go, before they wake up.”

  Shock and horror flooded in, burning away the last of the cobwebs. I turned on Keirran, but Kenzie was already shoving away from me, stalking out the door after the prince.

  Keirran waited for us in the hall, the Summer faery in his arms again. His gaze was resigned as Kenzie marched up to him, fury lining every inch of her.

  “Keirran, what the hell?” she hissed, keeping her voice low as it was still five in the morning, and we didn’t want other guests poking their heads out to glare at us. “Tell me you did not just do what I think you did to my parents!”

  “I’m sorry,” Keirran replied, bowing his head. “I didn’t want to, but they left me little choice. Your father would not have let you go, Mackenzie. He would’ve had Ethan arrested. And we are running out of time.”

  “That’s still not an excuse! You had no right—”

  “I did what was necessary.” The prince’s voice was calm. “I made a choice, and you don’t have to agree with it. But can we please talk about this later? When Annwyl is safe, I promise you can yell at me all you want. But we should go, now. Ethan...” He looked at me apologetically, as if he knew I was furious with him, too. “I don’t quite remember the way to Guro’s home. If I can get us to that little park a couple blocks from your house, will you take us the rest of the way?”

  I glared at him, wanting to argue, wanting to shout at him for both Kenzie’s sake and mine. What is wrong with you, Prince? You don’t just put the faery mind-whammy on someone like that, especially in front of her own family members! What the hell happened to you? But Keirran looked so anxious, and yelling at him would get me nowhere right then. Besides, like it or not, the damage was done. It sucked, but at least we wouldn’t have to worry about Kenzie’s dad anymore. Her whole family thought she was off visiting a relative and wouldn’t even think of her until she came back or the faery glamour wore off. Was I a rotten human being if I said I was the tiniest bit relieved?

  Probably.

  “Yeah,” I growled at him, ignoring his grateful look. “I can get us there.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  THE RITUAL

  I called Guro before I showed up on his doorstep that morning with two gentry and a gremlin, not needing a repeat of the last time we visited. Guro had a little girl and two dogs who apparently did not like gremlins, and I wanted to keep the faery madness to a minimum this time. When I explained what was happening, I still half expected him to hang up at any moment, but he calmly instructed me to come as soon as I could.

  We went Between again, following Keirran through a bleak landscape of mist, fog and nothing else. My truck, sadly, would have to stay in the hotel’s parking lot in New Orleans. I hated leaving it behind, but what else could I do? I just hoped it wouldn’t be towed, impounded or stolen by the time I could go back for it.

  The last part of the trip was made by taxi, with Keirran holding Annwyl in his lap and constantly murmuring to her. The mood in the cab was somber; even Razor was quiet, crouched on Kenzie’s shoulder, peeking out of her hair. The Summer faery didn’t look good, curled up in Keirran’s arms, occasionally going transparent and see-through. Keirran’s voice was low and soothing as he whispered to her, and I would catch snippets of stories, memories of summer nights and lonely meeting places, of dances under the stars and some truly crazy stunts he had pulled just to see her. Sometimes, Annwyl’s quiet, lilting voice would drift up weakly, showing she was still fighting, still hanging on. But these were the last hours of her life now, and everyone knew it.

  We finally pulled up at Guro’s familiar brick house. As I paid the driver and we all piled out of the cab, the front door opened, and Guro stepped out, waiting for us. I looked at Keirran, still invisible to mortal eyes, and the Fading Summer faery in his arms.

  “How is she?” I asked as we started up the driveway. Keirran shook his head. His eyes were grim.

  “I can barely feel her anymore.” His outline shimmered as he unglamoured himself, materializing into view. In his arms, Annwyl stirred and whispered something I couldn’t hear. Keirran closed his eyes. “She doesn’t have enough glamour to make herself visible. I hope your Guro can help something he can’t even see.”

  I hoped so, too.

  Guro nodded to us solemnly as we met him on the porch, his gaze lingering on Keirran. “Come in,” he said, opening the screen doo
r. “The dogs are out back, and I sent Maria and Sadie to their grandmother’s for the day, so it is just us.” We followed him into the living room, where just last week he had given me the swords now hidden in my backpack. Geez, had it really been that short a time? I felt like I’d been doing this crazy faery thing forever.

  “Ethan has told me about you,” Guro said, sitting in the armchair across from us. Kenzie and I took the couch, and Keirran perched on the edge, still holding Annwyl. I wondered what Guro could see when he looked at the Iron Prince, if he could see anything at all. “He told me you are family and that you have a friend who is...Fading away?”

  Kenzie blinked in surprise, but Keirran nodded, looking hopeful. “Yes. Please, can you help her?”

  Guro pondered this for a moment. “I do not know,” he said at last, and Keirran’s shoulders sank. “My charms—the protection amulets I create—they are for humans only. I have never done anything for...your kind. I do not know if they would have an impact.”

  “Would you try?” Keirran asked, a hint of desperation in his voice. Guro regarded him thoughtfully.

  “First, tell me what is wrong with your friend. If I am to help her, I need to know what she requires protection from.”

  Briefly, Keirran and I explained as best we could. How faeries lived on through the dreams and glamour of mortals, how faeries banished from the Nevernever began to Fade, how, as the memories and magic that sustained them slowly disappeared, they did, as well.

  Guro was silent a few moments after we finished, and the soft buzzing from Razor was the only sound that filled the room.

  “Can you help us?” Keirran finally asked. Guro sighed heavily, drawing his brows together.

  “I am sorry,” he said, and my stomach dropped. “But I am afraid I cannot save your friend.”

  Keirran made a choked sound and bowed his head, bending over Annwyl. Razor gave a distressed wail, and Kenzie asked, “There’s nothing you can do? At all?”

  “My amulets provide protection from outside harm,” Guro replied, his expression grave and mournful. “They cannot sustain a soul that is dying. There is nothing in the light arts that will help with this. I am very sorry.”

  That’s it, then, I thought numbly. Annwyl will die. She’ll be gone before tonight. And Keirran...what will he do? I sneaked a glance at the Iron Prince; he was curled over the Summer faery in his lap, shoulders trembling.

  As if echoing my thoughts, Keirran raised his head. His eyes and voice sent chills up my spine as he asked, “What about the dark arts?”

  I gave a start. “Keirran...”

  “You said there is nothing in the light arts that will help,” Keirran went on, ignoring me. His icy gaze was fixed on Guro, whose expression darkened. “What about the other arts, then? Cost doesn’t matter to me. I’ll pay whatever is necessary.” Guro hesitated, and Keirran’s voice became desperate. “Is there something that can save her? I’ll do anything.”

  “You don’t know what you are asking.”

  “I can’t lose her,” Keirran whispered. “If you can’t help us tonight, she’ll die. And I can’t let her go, not yet. No cost is too high—I would sell my soul to save her.”

  “You might have to,” Guro said quietly. “Black magic is not to be tampered with. When I became a tuhon, I swore I would not perform the dark arts unless it was absolutely nessecary.”

  “It is necessary,” Keirran argued. “There is no other way.” Guro continued to stare at him, his expression blank, and Keirran closed his eyes.

  “I love her,” he whispered, and Guro’s shoulders slumped, just the tiniest bit. If you didn’t know him well, you wouldn’t have seen it. Opening his eyes, Keirran gave him a desperate, pleading look, his voice earnest. “Please, I’m begging you. Help us. There’s nowhere else we can go, and Annwyl is out of time.”

  Abruptly, Guro rose. For a moment, he stared down at us, his dark gaze lingering on me, appraising. Then he took a deep breath.

  “There is a ceremony,” he began in a voice that raised the hairs on my neck. “A ritual that will steal the strength, memories and magic from one person and store it in an amulet for another to draw upon. But the ritual will weaken the target of the spell and will continue to weaken him until he is but a shell of his former self. It might corrupt him in ways he cannot see and it will eventually kill him, because he is essentially losing part of his soul. It is a very dark, black piece of magic, and it is something I swore I would never use.” He faced Keirran solemnly, and the Iron Prince stared back. “If I do this, I cannot predict what will happen to you. At best, it will buy her time, perhaps enough for you to find a permanent solution. At worst, you will both die. Be absolutely certain this is something you are willing to sacrifice.”

  Keirran didn’t hesitate. “Yes,” he said, holding Guro’s gaze. “I’m willing. What do you need me to do?”

  “Keirran,” I said in a shaky voice, still reeling from the fact that my master, my mentor, could perform black magic, “you could die from this. What would Meghan say? What if we can’t find another solution after this?”

  “There’s no time left,” Keirran whispered. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  “There is more,” Guro said slowly. He glanced at me, and my heart lurched. “For the ritual to work, Ethan will need to take part in it, too. We can only proceed if he is willing, as well.”

  “Me?” My insides shrank a little. “Why?”

  “It is best if I do not explain,” Guro said. “But know this—you will not be tied to the ritual in any way when it is done. I simply need your assistance to create the ating-ating, the amulet that will steal your friend’s magic and drain his strength.”

  That sounded pretty awful. Guro wasn’t pulling any punches; he was being straight with me, even in this. And he was giving both of us the chance to refuse. Hoping we would refuse. But Keirran looked at me, silently pleading, and I swallowed the dryness in my throat. Well, we’d come this far, and Keirran would never forgive me if I said no. I didn’t like the idea of being part of this dark ritual, but I trusted Guro. He wouldn’t ask me to participate if it was too dangerous.

  At least, I hoped not.

  “Sure,” I rasped out. “I’ll do it.”

  Guro exhaled. “I need some time to prepare,” he said, sounding weary all of a sudden. “Ethan, do you have your swords?”

  The question threw me, but I bobbed my head. “Yes, Guro.”

  “And you.” He glanced at Keirran and the sword across his back. “You carry a weapon, as well. Do you know how to use it?”

  “Yes. My father taught me.”

  “Good. Let me gather a few things, then I will take you to the ritual spot.”

  “Ritual spot?” I blinked. “Where is it?”

  “Not here,” Guro answered simply. “But not far. Ethan,” he continued, beckoning me to follow him out of the room, “may I speak to you for a moment?”

  Silently, I trailed Guro into the kitchen. He laid both hands on the counter and closed his eyes, before looking up.

  “Are you certain you are willing to do this?” he asked. “I have never performed this ritual before, but I know it will get very dark by the end. It is not something I do lightly, and to be honest, I would never consider it had your friend not asked. But I want you to be certain, Ethan.” He glanced back at the living room, where I could just hear Razor buzzing away on Kenzie’s shoulder. “Your friend walks a dangerous line,” Guro mused, his worried voice making my skin prickle. “He tampers with forces unseen, and he does not see the darkness rising up inside him. This ritual may bring that all to the surface.”

  I paused a moment, considering. “Keirran is family,” I said as Guro turned back to me. “And...he’s my friend. Even if he isn’t thinking straight, I can’t let him do this alone.”

  “Your loyalty is commendable, Ethan,” Guro said, smiling faintly. “Just make sure you give it to those worthy of having it.” He opened a drawer, took out a box of matches and stepped away. �
�I will need to prepare a few things before we leave. It should not take long. Wait here, and when I am ready, I will call for you.”

  * * *

  Keirran didn’t leave Annwyl’s side the whole time.

  “How’re they doing?” I asked Kenzie, who came out of the living room alone, looking tired. Razor had abandoned her, it seemed, as he was no longer crouched on her shoulder, probably in the room with Keirran. She filched a soda from the fridge and slid onto one of the breakfast stools, opening the can with a hiss.

  “The same,” she murmured, not looking at me. “Annwyl doesn’t look like she’s getting any worse, but Keirran isn’t going to take any chances. He’s not letting her out of his sight.”

  She looked tired. Exhausted, really. Her eyes were dull, and circles crouched under them, sullen and dark. I reminded myself that we’d basically been up all night and had been running from crazy faeries nonstop ever since the goblin market.

  I moved beside her, resting my elbows on the granite counter. She didn’t look at me, gazing down at the aluminum between her hands. I could feel the gulf between us, the simmering hurt and anger, and swallowed the last of my damn pride.

  “I’m sorry,” I offered quietly. “For everything. I’m sorry I took off without you, and left you behind, and didn’t tell you where we were going. It was a shitty thing to do and...I’m sorry.”

  She took a deep breath, exhaled slowly. “I know why you did it,” she replied, still not looking at me. “But...you really hurt me, Ethan. After everything I told you about my dad and my sickness, and wishing people would let me live my life the way I wanted. I thought you trusted me. Haven’t I proven that I can handle the faery world just as well as you?”

  “Better than me,” I said truthfully.

  “Then why—”

  “Because I don’t want to lose you to Them like I lost Meghan!” My outburst made her blink. It startled me, too. I bowed my head and ran both hands through my hair.