The Lost Prince
Page 34

“What’s going on?” I leaned against the counter, brushing away drifts of petals and leaves. They had a rotten, sickly sweet smell, and I tried not to breathe in. “Who’s with her? Who is Annwyl? Why—?”
I trailed off, my blood turning cold. Was it my imagination, or had I just seen a white shimmer float between the booths farther down the aisle? Carefully, I straightened, gripping my weapons, my skin starting to prickle with goose bumps. “Keirran, we have to get out of here now.”
He looked up warily, reaching back for his weapon. And then, something slipped from the booths onto the dusty path, and we both froze.
At first, it looked like a giant cat. It had a sleek, muscular body, short fur and a long, thin tail that lashed its hindquarters. But when it turned its head, its face wasn’t a cat’s but an old, wrinkled woman’s, her hair hanging limply around her neck, her eyes beady and cruel. She turned toward us, and I ducked behind the stall, pulling Kenzie down with me, as Keirran vanished behind the counter. I saw that the cat-thing’s front paws were actually bony hands with long, crooked nails, but worst of all, her body flickered and shimmered in the air like heat waves. Like the creepy fey that had chased me and Kenzie into the Nevernever. Except this one seemed a bit more solid than the others. Not nearly so transparent.
I suddenly had a sinking suspicion of what had happened to the exiles.
Keirran squeezed through a crack in the cloth walls and crouched down beside us. “What is that?” he whispered, gripping his sword. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
“I have.” I peeked around the corner. The cat-thing was turning in slow circles, as if she knew something was there but couldn’t see it. “Something similar took my friend and chased us—” I gestured to Kenzie and myself “—into the Nevernever. I think they’re the ones that have been kidnapping exiles and half-breeds.”
Keirran’s gaze darkened, and he suddenly looked extremely dangerous, eyes glowing with an icy light as he stood slowly. “Then perhaps we should make sure it doesn’t hurt anyone else.”
“You sure that’s a good idea?”
“Ethan.” Kenzie squeezed my arm, looking frightened but trying not to let it show. “I don’t see it,” she whispered. “I don’t see anything.”
“But the little boys can,” hissed a voice behind us, and another cat-thing padded out of the darkness between the stalls.
I jumped to my feet, pulling Kenzie up with me. The cat-fey’s wizened face creased in a smile, showing sharp feline teeth. “Little humans,” she purred, as the other faery came around the corner, boxing us in. I shivered as the air around us grew cold. “You can see us and hear us. How encouraging.”
“Who are you?” Keirran demanded, and raised his sword, pointing it at the nearest cat-thing. On his shoulder, Razor growled and buzzed at the faeries, baring his teeth. “What did you do to the exiles here?”
The cat-fey hissed and drew back at the sight of the iron weapon. “Not human,” rasped the other behind us. “The bright one is not completely human. I can feel his glamour. He is strong.” She growled, taking a step forward. “We should bring him to the lady.”
I raised my sticks and eased back, closer to Keirran, trapping Kenzie between us. She glanced around wildly, trying to see the invisible threats, but it was obvious that she didn’t even hear them.
The second cat-thing blinked slowly, running a tongue along her thin mouth. “Yes,” she agreed, flexing her nails. “We will bring the half-breed to the lady, but it would be a shame to waste all that lovely glamour. Perhaps we will just take a little.”
Her mouth opened, stretching impossibly wide, a gaping hole in her wrinkled face. I felt a ripple around us, a pulling sensation, as if the cat-fey was sucking the air into itself. I braced myself for something nasty, pressing close to Kenzie, but except for a faint sluggish feeling, nothing happened.
But Keirran staggered and fell to one knee, putting a hand against the booth to catch himself. As I stared, he seemed to fade a bit, his brightness getting dimmer, the color leeched from his hair and clothes. Razor screeched and flickered from sight, going in and out like a bad television station. The other faery cackled, and I glared at it, torn between helping Keirran and protecting the girl.
Suddenly, the cat-thing choked, convulsed and hurled itself back from Keirran. “Poison!” she screeched, gagging and heaving, as if she wanted to cough up a hairball. “Poison! Murder!” She spasmed again, curling in on herself as her body began to break apart, to dissolve like sugar in water. “Iron!” she wailed, clawing at the ground, at herself, her beady eyes wild. “He’s an Iron abomination! Kill him, sister! Kill them all!”
She vanished then, blowing away in the breeze, as the other cat-thing screamed its fury and pounced.
I brought my rattan down, smashing it over the faery’s skull, then sliding away to land a few solid blows on its shoulder. It screeched in pain and whirled on me, favoring its right leg. “So, you’re real enough to hit, after all.” I grinned. Snarling, it lunged, clawing at me, and I sidestepped again, angling out like Guro had taught me, whipping my rattan several times across the wizened face.
Shaking its head, the faery backed up, hissing furiously, one eye squeezed shut. Pale, silvery blood dripped from its mouth and jaw, writhing away as soon as it touched the ground. I twirled my sticks and stepped closer, forcing it back. Kenzie had retreated a few steps and was crouched next to Keirran; I could hear her asking if he was all right, and his quiet assurance that he was fine.
“Boy,” the cat-faery hissed, her lips pulled back in a snarl of hate, “you will pay for this. You all will. When we return, there will be nothing that will save you from our wrath.”
Turning, the cat-thing bounded into the darkness between the stalls and vanished from sight.
I breathed a sigh of relief and turned to Keirran, who was struggling upright, one hand still on the booth wall. Razor made angry, garbled noises on his shoulder, punctuated with the words “Bad kitty!”
“You okay?” I asked, and he nodded wearily. “What just happened there?”
“I don’t know.” He gave Kenzie a grateful smile and took a step forward, standing on his own. “When that thing turned on me, it felt like everything—my strength, my emotions, even my memory—was being sucked out. It was…awful.” He shuddered, rubbing a forearm. “I feel like there are pieces of me missing now, and I’ll never get them back.”
I remembered the dead piskie, the way she’d looked right before she died, like all her color had been drained away. “It was draining your magic,” I said, and Keirran nodded. “So, these things, whatever they are, they eat the glamour of regular fey, suck them dry until there’s nothing left.”
“Like vampires,” Kenzie put in. “Vampire fey that hunt their own kind.” She wrinkled her nose. “That’s creepy. Why would they do that?”
I shook my head. “I have no idea.”
“It got more than it bargained for, though,” Keirran went on, gazing at the spot where the cat-faery had died. “Whatever they are, it looks like they’re still deathly allergic to iron.”
“So they’re not Iron fey, at least.”
“No.” Keirran shivered and dropped his hands. “Though I have no idea what they are.”
“Keirran!”
The shout echoed down the rows, making Keirran jerk his head up, hope flaring in his eyes. A moment later, a willowy girl in a green-and-brown dress turned a corner and sprinted toward us. Keirran smiled, and Razor gave a welcoming buzz, waving his arms.
I tensed. The girl was fey, I could see that easily. The tips of her ears peeked up through her golden-brown hair, which was braided with vines and flowers and hung several inches past her waist. She had that unnatural grace of all fey, that perfect beauty where it was tempting to stare at her and completely forget to eat, sleep, breathe or anything else.
Keirran stepped forward, forgetting Kenzie and me completely, his eyes only for the faery approaching us. The fey girl halted just shy of touching him, as if she’d intended to fling herself into his arms but thought better of it at the last moment.
“Annwyl.” Keirran hesitated, as if he, too, wanted to pull her close, only to decide against it. His gaze never left the Summer faery, though, and she didn’t seem to notice the two humans standing behind him.
There was a moment of awkward silence, broken only by Razor, chattering on Keirran’s shoulder, before the faery girl shook her head.
“You shouldn’t be here, Keirran,” she said, her voice lilting and soft, like water over a rock bed. “It’s going to get you in trouble. Why did you come?”
“I heard what was happening in the mortal realm,” Keirran replied, stepping forward and reaching for her hand. “I heard the rumor that something is out here, killing off exiles and half-breeds.” His other hand rose as if to brush her cheek. “I had to come see you, to make sure you were all right.”
Annwyl hesitated. Longing showed on her face, but she stepped back before Keirran could touch her. His eyes closed, briefly, and he let his arm drop. “You shouldn’t be here,” the girl insisted. “It isn’t safe, especially now. There are…creatures.”
“We saw,” Keirran replied, and Annwyl gave him a frightened look. His gaze hardened, ice-blue eyes glinting dangerously. “Those things,” he went on. “Is she aware of them? Is that why the market has been disbanded?”
The fey girl nodded. “She knows you’re here,” she replied in her soft, rippling voice. “She’s waiting for you. I’m supposed to bring you to her. But…”
Her gaze finally slid to mine, and the large, moss-green eyes widened. “You brought mortals here?” she asked, sounding confused. “Who…?”
“Ah. Yes, where are my manners?” Keirran glanced back, as well, as if just remembering us. “I’m sorry. Ethan, this is Annwyl, formerly of the Summer Court. Annwyl, may I introduce…Ethan Chase.”