With a hissing cackle, it hobbled down a walkway and vanished into the town.
The crowd began to disperse, and I slowly relaxed. Kenzie pushed her hair back with a shaking hand and sighed in relief. “Well, there go the pictures for this week’s sports article,” she said wryly. “But, if you think about it, that camera has more than paid for itself today. I’m just sad no one will get to see your mad kali skills.”
I lowered my sticks. That was twice now that Kenzie’s quick thinking had gotten us out of trouble. Another few seconds, and I would’ve been in a fight. With a faery. In the middle of a faery town.
Not one of my smarter moments.
“How did you know what it wanted?” I asked as we headed toward the station again. Kenzie gave me an exasperated look.
“Really, Ethan, you’re supposed to know this stuff. Faeries like gifts, all the Google articles say so. And since we don’t have any jars of honey or small children, I figured the camera was the best bet.” She chuckled and rolled her eyes at me. “This doesn’t have to be a fight all the way to the Iron Queen, tough guy. Next time, let’s try talking to the faeries before the sticks come out.”
I would’ve said something, except…I was kind of speechless.
* * *
We boarded the train without trouble, receiving only a brief glare from the conductor, and made our way to a deserted car near the back. Hard wooden pews sat under the windows, but there were a few private boxes as well, and after a few minutes of searching, we managed to find an empty one. Sliding in behind Kenzie, I quickly shut the doors, locked them and lowered the blind over the window.
Kenzie sank down on one of the benches, leaning against the glass. I followed her gaze, seeing the glittering metal of the tracks stretch out over the dark waters until they were lost from view.
“How long do you think it’ll be before we’re there?” Kenzie asked, still gazing out the window. “What is this place called again?”
“Mag Tuiredh,” I replied, sitting beside her. “And I don’t know. Hopefully not long.”
“Hopefully,” Kenzie agreed, and murmured in a softer voice, “I wonder what my dad is doing right now?”
With a huff, the train began to move, chugging noisily at first, then smoothing out as it picked up speed. The lights of the village fell away until nothing could be seen outside the window but the flat, silvery expanse of the lake and the stars glittering overhead.
“I hope Grimalkin made it on,” Kenzie said, her voice slurred and exhausted. She shifted against the window, crossing her arms. “You think he’s here like he said he would be?”
“Who knows?” I watched her try to get comfortable for a few seconds, then scooted over, closing the distance between us. “Here,” I offered, pulling her back against my shoulder. With everything she’d done for us, the least I could do was let her sleep. She leaned into me with a grateful sigh, soft strands of hair brushing my arm.
“I wouldn’t worry about the cat,” I went on, shifting to give her a more comfortable position. “If he made it, he made it. If not, there’s nothing we can do about it.”
She didn’t say anything for a while, closing her eyes, and I pretended to watch the shadows outside the window, hyperaware of her head on my shoulder, her slim hand on my knee.
“Mool onyurleg, m’surry,” Kenzie mumbled, sounding half-asleep.
“What?”
“I said, if I drool on your leg, I’m sorry,” she repeated. I chuckled at that, making her crack an eye open.
“Oh, wow, the broody one can laugh after all,” she murmured, one corner of her mouth curling up. “Maybe we should alert the media.”
Smirking, I looked down, ready to give a smart-ass reply.
And suddenly, my breath caught at how close our faces were, her lips just a few inches from mine. If I ducked my head just slightly, I would kiss her. Her hair was brushing my skin, the feathery strands tickling my neck, and the fingers on my leg were very warm. Kenzie didn’t move, continuing to watch me with a faint smile. I wondered if she knew what she was doing, or if she was waiting to see what I would do.
I swallowed and carefully tilted my head back, removing the temptation. “Go to sleep.” I told her. She sniffed.
“Bossy.” But her eyes closed, and a few minutes later, a soft snore escaped her parted lips. I crossed my arms, leaned back, and prepared for a long, uncomfortable ride to Mag Tuiredh.
* * *
When I opened my eyes, it was light, and the sky through the window was mottled with sun and clouds. Groggily, I scanned the rest of the car, wondering if any faeries had crept up on us while I was asleep, but it seemed we were still alone.
My neck ached, and part of my leg was numb. I had drifted off with my chin on my chest, arms still crossed. I started to stretch but froze. Kenzie had somehow curled up on the tiny bench and was sleeping with her head on my leg.
For a few seconds, I watched her, the rise and fall of her slim body, the sun falling over her face. Seeing her like that filled me with a fierce protectiveness, an almost painful desire to keep her safe. She mumbled something and shifted closer, and I reached down, brushing the hair from her cheek.
Realizing what I was doing, I pulled my hand back, clenching my fists. Dammit, what was happening to me? I could not be falling for this girl. It was dangerous for the both of us. When we did go back to the mortal world, Kenzie would return to her old life and her old friends and her family, and I would do the same. She did not need someone like me hanging around, someone who attracted chaos and misery, who couldn’t stay out of trouble no matter how hard he tried.
I’d already ruined one girl’s life. I would not do that again. Even if I had to make her hate me, I would not do to Kenzie what I’d done to Sam.
“Hey,” I said, jostling her shoulder. “Wake up.”
She groaned, hunching her shoulders against my prodding. “Two more minutes, Mom.”
It was mean, but I scooted away from her, letting her head thump to the bench. “Ow!” she yelped, sitting up and rubbing her skull. “What the hell, Ethan?”
I nodded out the window, ignoring the immediate stab of remorse. “We’re almost there.”
Kenzie still frowned at me, but when she looked out the glass, her eyes went wide.
Mag Tuiredh. The Iron Court. I’d never been there, never seen it. I’d only learned of the city from stories, rumors I’d heard over years of existing among the fey. Meghan herself had never told me where she lived and ruled from, though I’d asked her countless times before she disappeared. She didn’t want me to know, to imagine it, to get ideas in my head that might lead me there, looking for her.
I had imagined it, of course. But as an ugly monstrosity, the images tainted by the memory of a stark black tower in the center of a blasted wasteland. The city at the end of the railroad tracks was anything but.
It was old, even from this distance, I could see that. Stone walls and mossy roofs, vines coiled around everything. Trees pushing up through rock, roots draped and curled around stone. Some of the buildings were huge—massively huge. Not sprawling so much as they looked as if they were built by a race of giants.
But the city gleamed, too. Sunlight glinted off metal spires, lights glimmered in the haze and steam, glass windows caught the faint rays and reflected them back into the sky. It reminded me of a city under construction, with sleek metal towers rising up among the ancient moss- and vine-covered buildings. And above it all, gleaming spires stabbing into the clouds, the silhouette of a huge castle stood proud and imposing over Mag Tuiredh, like a glittering mountain.
The home of the Iron Queen.
* * *
The train came to a wheezing, clanking, chugging halt at the station. Gazing out the window, I narrowed my eyes. There were a lot more Iron fey here than at the tiny border town on the lake, a lot of guards and faeries in armor. Knights with the symbol of a great iron tree on their breastplates stood at attention or roamed the streets in pairs, keeping an eye on the populace.
“Well?” came a familiar voice from behind us, and we jerked around. Grimalkin sat on the bench across from us, watching us lazily. “Are you just going to sit there until the train starts moving again?”
“Where do we go from here?” Kenzie asked, peeking out the window again. “I guess we can’t hail a taxi, right?”
Grimalkin sighed.
“This way,” he said, walking along the edge of the bench before dropping to the ground. “I will take you to the Iron Queen’s palace.”
The palace, I thought, as we followed Grimalkin down the aisle toward the doors up front. I knew the huge castle must be hers. It was just hard to imagine Meghan living in a palace now. Must be nice. Better than a rundown farmhouse or little home in the suburbs, anyway.
Following Grimalkin, we stepped through the doors and walked down the steps into the hazy streets of Mag Tuiredh.
Aside from the crowds of fey, it was difficult to believe we were still in the Nevernever. Mag Tuiredh reminded me a little of Victorian England—the steampunk version. The streets were cobblestone and lined with flickering lanterns in hues of blue and green. Carriages stood at the edge of the sidewalks, pulled by strange, mechanical horses of bright metal and copper gears. Buildings crowded the narrow streets, some stony and vine-ridden and Gothic, others decidedly more modern. Pipes crisscrossed the sky overhead, leaking steam that trickled to the ground in lacy curtains. And, of course, there were the Iron fey, looking as if they’d stepped straight out of an alchemist’s nightmare.
They stared at us as if we were the nightmares, the monsters, watching and whispering as we trailed Grimalkin through the cobblestone paths. The cat was nearly invisible in the haze and falling steam, as difficult to glimpse as a shadow in the wyldwood. I kept a tight grip on my weapons, glaring back at any fey who gave me a funny look. We were even more conspicuous here than we’d been at the border village. I hoped we could get to Meghan before anyone stepped up to challenge the two humans strolling through the middle of the faery capital.
Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen.
As we passed beneath a stone archway, clanking footsteps rang out and a squad of faery knights stepped up to block our path. Weapons drawn, they surrounded us, a ring of bristling steel, their faces cold and hard beneath their helmets. I pulled Kenzie close, trying to keep her behind me, swinging my own weapons into a ready stance. Grimalkin, I noticed, had disappeared, and I cursed him under my breath. Fey gathered behind the knights, watching and murmuring, as the tension swelled and unspoken violence hung thick on the air.
“Humans.” A knight stepped forward, pointing at me with his sword. He had a sharp face, pointed ears, and was covered head to toe in plate mail. His expression beneath the open helmet was decidedly unfriendly. “How did you get into Mag Tuiredh? Why are you here?”
“I’m here to see the Iron Queen,” I returned, not lowering my weapons, though I had no idea what I could do against so many armored knights. I didn’t think beating on them with a pair of wooden sticks would penetrate that thick steel. Not to mention, they had very sharp swords and lances, all pointed in our direction. “I don’t want any trouble. I just want to talk to Meghan. If you tell her I’m here—”