I kept quiet, chewing on granola. You couldn’t fault her reasoning, though she was still far more pragmatic and logical than I’d expected. Still, something about her reaction didn’t feel right. Maybe it was her complete lack of fear and skepticism, as if she desperately wanted to believe that this was really happening. As if she didn’t care at all about leaving what was real and sane and normal behind.
“Anyway,” Kenzie went on, looking back at me, “you’ve been here before, right? From the way that cat was talking to you, it was like you knew each other.”
I shrugged. “Yeah,” I said, staring at the ground between my knees. Memories—the bad memories I tried so hard to forget—crowded in. Fangs and claws, poking at me. Glowing eyes and shrieking, high-pitched laughter. Lying in utter darkness, the stench of rust and iron clogging my nose, waiting for my sister to come. “But it was a long time ago,” I muttered, shoving those thoughts away, locking them in the farthest corner of my mind. “I barely remember it.”
“How long have you been able to see…um…faeries?”
I flicked a glance at her. She sat with her knees drawn to her chest, leaning against a rock, watching me gravely. The fluorescent toadstools on the walls gave off a black light effect, making the blue in her hair glow neon bright. I caught myself staring and looked down at the floor again.
“All my life.” I hunched a little more. “I can’t remember a time when I couldn’t see them, when I didn’t know they were there.”
“Can your parents—?”
“No.” It came out a bit sharper than I’d intended. “No one in my family can see them. Just me.”
Except my sister, of course. But I didn’t want to talk about her.
“Hmm.” Kenzie rested her chin on her knees. “Well, this explains a lot about you. The secrecy, the paranoia, the weirdness at the tournament.” My face heated, but Kenzie didn’t seem to notice. “So how many…faeries…are out there in the real world?”
“Sure you want to know?” I challenged, smiling bitterly. “You might end up like me, mean and paranoid, staring at corners and out windows for things that aren’t there. There’s a reason no one ever talks about the fey, and not just because it draws their attention. Because normal people, the ones who can’t see Them, will label you weird or crazy or freak, and will either treat you like you have the plague or will want to throw you in a cell.”
“I never thought of you like that,” Kenzie said softly.
Anger burned suddenly. At myself, for dragging her into this. At Kenzie, for being too damn stubborn to leave me alone, for refusing to stay away and not hate me like any normal, sane person would. And at myself, again, for allowing her to get this close, for wanting to be near someone. I had let down my guard the tiniest bit, and now look where we were.
“Well, maybe you should have,” I said, standing and glaring down at her. “Because now you’re stuck here with me. And I really don’t know if we’re going to make it out of here alive.”
“Where are you going?” Kenzie asked as I stalked away toward the mouth of the cave. Ignoring her, hoping she wouldn’t come after me, I walked to the entrance, just a foot or so from the edge of the cave, so I could see Faery for myself.
Peering into the darkness, I shivered. The wyldwood stretched away before me, tangled and ominous in the shadows. I couldn’t see the sky through the canopy of leaves and branches, but I could see glimmers of movement far, far above, lights or creatures floating through the trees.
“Going somewhere?” came a voice above my head. Grimalkin sat in a tangle of roots that curled lazily from the ceiling. His huge eyes seemed to hover in the darkness.
“No,” I muttered, giving him a cautious look. Grimalkin had helped my sister in the past, but I didn’t know him well, and he was still fey. Faeries never did anything for free; his agreeing to guide us through the wyldwood into the Iron Realm was just part of a deal.
“Good. I would hate to have you eaten before we even started,” he purred, raking his claws across the wood. “You appear to have the same recklessness as your sister, always rushing into things without thinking them through.”
“Don’t compare me to Meghan,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “I’m not like her.”
“Indeed. She, at least, had a pleasant personality.”
“I’m not here to make friends.” The cat was bugging the hell out of me, but I refused to let it show. “This isn’t a reunion. I just want to get to the Iron Realm, talk to Meghan and go home.” Todd is still out there, counting on me.
The cat stretched lazily on the branch. “Desire what you will, human,” he said with a knowing, half-lidded stare. “With your family, I have found that it is never as easy as that.”
Chapter Eleven
Into the Wyldwood
I didn’t think I’d sleep, but I must’ve dozed off, because the next thing I knew, I was waking up on the sandy floor of the cave, and my shoulder was killing me. Pulling out the aspirin, I popped another three pills, crunched them down with a grimace and looked around for Kenzie and Grimalkin.
Unsurprisingly, the cat was nowhere to be seen, but a faint gray light was seeping in from the cave mouth, and the glowing fungi along the walls had dimmed, looking like ordinary toadstools now. I wondered how much time had passed, if a year had already flown by in the mortal world and my parents had given up all hope of ever seeing me again.
Grimacing, I struggled upright, cursing myself for falling asleep. Anything could’ve happened while I’d been out: something could’ve snuck up on me, stolen my bag, convinced Kenzie to follow it down a dark tunnel. Where was she, anyway? She didn’t know about Faery, how dangerous it could be. She was far too trusting, and anything in this world could grab her, chew her up and spit her out again.
I spun, searching frantically, until I saw her sitting cross-legged near the entrance.
Talking to Grimalkin.
Oh, great. I hurried over, hoping she hadn’t promised the cat anything she would regret, or we would regret, later. “Kenzie,” I said as I swept up. “What are you doing? What are you two talking about?”
She glanced up at me, smiling, and Grimalkin yawned widely as he bent to lick his paws. “Oh, you’re up,” she said. “Grimalkin was just telling me a little about the Nevernever. It’s fascinating. Did you know there’s a whole huge city on the ocean floor that stretches for miles? Or that the River of Dreams supposedly runs to the End of the World before falling off the edge?”
“I don’t want to know,” I said. “I don’t want to be here any longer than we have to, so don’t think we’re staying for the tour. I just want to go to the Iron Realm, talk to Meghan, and go home. How’s that part coming along, cat?”
Grimalkin sniffed. “Your friend is far better company than you,” he stated, and scrubbed the paw over his head. “And if you are so eager to get to the Iron Realm, we will leave whenever you are ready. However—” he peeked up at me, twitching his tail “—be absolutely sure you have everything you need, human. We will not be coming back to this place should you leave something behind.”
I walked back to my gym bag, wondering what to leave. I couldn’t take the whole bag, that was obvious. It was bulky and heavy, and I wasn’t going to tote it across the Nevernever if I didn’t have to. Besides, my arm still hurt like hell, so I wouldn’t be carrying anything much larger than a stick.
I pulled out my rattan, the gauze, two bottles of water, and the last three power bars, then rifled around the side pocket for one more thing. Kenzie wandered over and knelt on the other side, watching curiously.
“What are you looking for?”
“This,” I muttered, and pulled out a large, slightly rusted key, something I’d found half buried in the swamp when I was a kid. It was ancient, bulky and made of pure iron. I’d kept it as a lucky charm and a faery deterrent ever since.
“Here,” I said, holding it out to her. It dangled from an old string, spinning lazily between us. I’d meant to get a chain for it but kept putting it off. “Keep this close,” I told her as she stared at it curiously. “Iron is the best protection you can have against the creatures that live here. It’s poison to them—they can’t even touch it without being burned. It won’t keep them away completely, but they might think twice about biting your head off if they smell that around your neck.”
She wrinkled her nose, whether from the thought of having to wear a rusty old key or having her head bitten off, I didn’t know. “What about you?” she asked.
I reached into my shirt and pulled out the iron cross on the chain. “Already have one. Here.” I jiggled the key at her. “Take it.”
She reached out, and my fingers brushed hers as they closed around the amulet, sending a rush of warmth up my arm. I jerked and nearly dropped the key, but she didn’t pull back, her touch lingering on mine, watching me over our clasped hands.
“I’m sorry, Ethan.”
I blinked and quickly pulled my hand back, frowning in confusion. My heart was pounding again, but I ignored it. “Why?”
“For not believing you at the tournament.” She looped the heavy key around her neck, where it clinked softly against the camera. “I thought you might be into something dangerous and illegal, and had gotten Todd into trouble because of it. And that the faery thing was a cover for something else. I never thought they could be real.” Her solemn gaze met mine over the gym bag. “They were at the tournament, weren’t they?” she asked. “The faeries that grabbed Todd. That’s what was chasing us, and you were trying to get us out.” Her gaze flicked to my bandaged arm, and her brow furrowed. “I’m sorry for that, too.”
I started to reply, but Kenzie rose and briskly dusted herself off, as if not wanting an answer. “Come on,” she said in an overly cheerful voice. “We should get going. Grim is giving us the evil eye.”
She started to walk away but paused very briefly, her fingers touching my shoulder as she passed. “Also…thanks for saving my life.”
I sat there a moment, listening to Kenzie’s footsteps pad quietly over the sand. What just happened here? Kenzie had nothing to apologize for. It wasn’t her fault we were here, stuck in the Nevernever for who knew how long, that a bunch of ghostly, homicidal faeries were after us. Her life had been fairly normal before I came along. If anything, she should hate me for dragging her into this mess. I certainly hated myself.
My shoulder still prickled where she’d touched it.
An extremely loud yawn came from the mouth of the cave. “Are we going to start this expedition sometime in the next century?” Grimalkin called, golden eyes blinking in annoyance. “For someone who is in such a hurry to leave, you certainly are taking your time.”
I rose, snatched my rattan sticks and water from the floor, and walked toward the cave entrance, leaving the bag behind. It, along with my dirty clothes and equipment, would have to stay in Faery. Hopefully it wouldn’t stink up Grimalkin’s home too badly.