She pursed her lips. “I’ll…think of something.”
“I may be able to help with that, darling,” Leanansidhe broke in. We looked up, and the Exile Queen smiled at Kenzie, twiddling her cigarette holder. “You are a spunky little thing, aren’t you, pet? I rather like you. With all the riffraff from the Goblin Market hanging out in my living room, I’m certain we’ll be able to find something that will help you with your nonexistent Sight. However…” She raised one perfectly manicured nail. “A warning, my dove. This is not a simple request, nor does it come cheap. To grant a human the Sight is not something I take lightly. I will have something from you in return, if you agree.”
“No!” My outburst made Kenzie start, though Leanansidhe blinked calmly, looking irritated and amused at the same time. “Kenzie, no,” I said, taking a step toward her. “Never make a deal with the fey. The price is always too high.”
Kenzie regarded me briefly, then turned back to the Exile Queen, her expression thoughtful. “What kind of price are we talking about?” she asked softly.
“Kenzie!”
“Ethan.” Her voice was quiet but firm as she looked over her shoulder. “It’s my decision.”
“The hell it is! I’m not going to let you do this—”
“Ethan, darling,” Leanansidhe ordered, and brought her finger and thumb together. “Shush.”
And suddenly, I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t make a sound. My mouth opened, vocal chords straining to say something, but I had gone as mute as the paint on the wall. “This is my home,” the Dark Muse continued, and the lights flickered on and off as she stared at me. “And here you will obey my rules. If you don’t like it, pet, you’re welcome to leave. But the girl and I have business to conduct now, so sit down and be a good boy, won’t you? Don’t make me turn you into a very whiny guitar.”
I clenched my fists, wanting to hit something, wanting to grab Kenzie and get us both out of there. But even if I left, Leanansidhe wouldn’t let Kenzie go, not without completing the bargain. Attacking someone as powerful as the Exile Queen was a very stupid idea, even for me. I wanted to protect Kenzie, but I couldn’t do that if Leanansidhe turned me into a guitar. So I could only stand there, clenching and unclenching my fists, as Kenzie prepared to deal with the Exile Queen. Keirran watched me, his gaze apologetic, and I resisted the urge to hit him, too.
“Ethan.” Kenzie looked back at me, horror crossing her face as she realized what had happened, then whirled on Leanansidhe. “Whatever you just did to him,” she demanded, bristling, “stop it right now.”
“Oh, pish, darling. He’s just a little tongue-tied at the moment. Nothing he won’t recover from. Eventually.” The Exile Queen gave me a dismissive wave. “Now, my dove. I believe we have some business to conclude. You want to be able to see the Hidden World, and I want something from you, as well. The question is, what are you willing to pay?”
Kenzie stared at me a moment longer, then slowly turned back to the Dark Muse. “I take it we’re not talking about money.”
Leanansidhe laughed. “Oh, no, my pet. Nothing so crude as that.” She strolled forward until Kenzie was just a foot away, gazing up at the Exile Queen looming over her. “You have something else that I’m interested in.”
I started forward, but Keirran grabbed my arm.
“Ethan, don’t,” he whispered as I glared at him, wondering if I shouldn’t lock his elbow out and force him to his knees. “She’ll do something nasty if you try to interfere. I’ve seen it. Even if it’s not on you, she could take it out on others. I can’t let you hurt yourself…or Annwyl.”
“I can feel the creative energy in you, pet,” the Exile Queen mused, lightly stroking Kenzie’s long black hair, and Keirran had to tighten his grip on my arm. “You are an artist, aren’t you, darling? A smith of words, one might say.”
“I’m a journalist,” Kenzie replied cautiously.
“Exactly so, darling,” said Leanansidhe, moving a few steps back. “You create music with words and sentences, not notes. Well, here is my bargain, my pet—I will offer you a little of my…shall we say ‘divine inspiration,’ for a very special piece I’m willing to commission.”
“And…what do you want me to write about?”
“I want you to publish something about me, darling,” Leanansidhe said, as if that were obvious. “That’s not such a horrible price, is it, pet? Oh, but here is the real kicker—every word you put down on paper will practically sing from the page. It will touch everyone who reads it, in one form or another. The words will be yours, the thoughts will be yours. I will just add a little inspiration to make the work truly magnificent. Let me do this, and I will give you the ability to see the fey.”
Kenzie, no! I wanted to shout. If you let her do this, you’ll be giving a piece of yourself to Leanansidhe. She’ll take a bit of your life in exchange for the inspiration, that’s how the Dark Muse works!
Kenzie hesitated, considering. “One piece?” she said at last, as I turned desperately to Keirran, grabbing his collar. “That’s all?”
Say something, I thought, beseeching the faery with my gaze. Dammit, Keirran, you know what’s going on. You can’t let her agree without the full knowledge of what she’s getting into. Say something!
“Of course, darling,” Leanansidhe said. “Just one tiny piece, written by you. With my help, of course.
“Please,” I mouthed, and Keirran sighed.
“That’s not all, Leanansidhe,” he said, releasing my arm and stepping forward. “You’re not telling her everything. She deserves to know the real price of your inspiration.”
“Keirran, darling,” Leanansidhe said, a definite note of irritation beneath the cheerful facade, “if I lose this deal because of you, I’m going to be very unhappy. And when I am unhappy, pet, everyone in my home is unhappy.” She glowered at Keirran, and the lights on the walls flickered. “I did you a favor by taking the Summer girl in, darling. Remember that.”
Keirran backed off, giving me a dark look, but it was enough. “What does he mean?” Kenzie asked as the Exile Queen huffed in frustration. “What’s the ‘real price’?”
“Nothing much, darling,” Leanansidhe soothed, switching tones as she turned back to the girl. “Just…in the terms of the contract, you will agree to forfeit a tiny bit of your life to me, in exchange for the inspiration. Not much, mind you,” she added, as Kenzie’s mouth dropped open. “A month or two, give or take. Of course, this is your natural lifespan only—it does not count for fatal accidents, sickness, disease or other untimely demises. But that is my offer for the Sight, my pet. It really is one of my more generous offers. What say you?”
No, I thought at Kenzie. Say no. That’s the only thing you can say to an offer like that.
“Sure,” Kenzie said immediately, and I gaped at her. “Why not? A month of my life, in exchange for a lifetime of seeing the fey?” She shrugged. “That’s not too bad, in the long run.”
What? Stunned, I could only stare at the girl in horror. Do you know what you just did? You gave away a month of your existence to a faery queen! You let her shorten your life for nothing.
Leanansidhe blinked. “Well,” she mused after a moment. “That was easy. How fortunate for me. Humans are usually extraordinarily attached to their lives, I’ve found. But, if that is your decision, then we have a deal, my pet. And I will get you the things you need to acquire the Sight.” She smiled, terribly pleased with herself, and looked at me and Keirran. If she saw how I was staring at Kenzie, dumbstruck, she didn’t comment. “I will fetch Annwyl to show you your rooms. Meet me here tomorrow, darlings, and we will discuss where you will go next. Until then, the mansion is yours.”
* * *
My voice finally returned a few hours later.
I hadn’t seen Annwyl or Keirran for a while, not since the Summer girl had brought us to Leanansidhe’s guest rooms and quickly vanished, saying she had work to do. Keirran didn’t wait very long before following her down the hall. Kenzie, I think, was avoiding me, for she disappeared into her room and didn’t answer the door when I knocked a few minutes later.
So I prowled the mansion, which was huge, wandering its endless corridors, hoping some exiled fey would try to pick a fight with me. Nobody did, leaving me to brood without any distractions.
Keirran. Meghan’s son…and my nephew, disturbing as that was. The whole situation was completely screwed up. I knew time flowed differently in Faery, but still. Keirran was my age, as were Meghan and Ash…
I shook my head, veering away from that train of thought. My family had just gotten a whole lot weirder. I wondered what Mom would say, if she knew about Keirran. She’d probably freak out.
Maybe that’s why Meghan didn’t tell us, I thought, glaring at a bogey crouched under a low shelf like a huge spider, daring it to do something. It took one look at me and vanished into the shadows. Maybe she knew Mom wouldn’t be able to handle it. Maybe she was scared of what I would think…but, no, that’s not an excuse! She still should’ve told us. That’s not something you can just hide away and hope no one finds out.
Meghan had a reason for not telling us about Keirran, and for trying to keep him away from us, as well. What was it? As far as I could tell, Keirran had no prejudice against humans; he was polite, soft-spoken, respectful. The complete opposite of me, I thought, rolling my eyes. Mom would absolutely love him. But Meghan never wanted us to meet, which seemed really odd for her, as well. What could possibly be so horrible that you would have a child and keep it a secret from the rest of your family?
What wasn’t she telling us about Keirran?
Voices drifted down the corridor from somewhere up ahead, the soft, garbled buzz of a conversation. I heard Annwyl’s lyrical tone through an archway at the end of the hall, and Keirran’s quiet voice echo it. Not wanting to disturb…whatever they were doing, I turned to leave, when Kenzie’s name filtered through the conversation and caught my attention.
Wary now, I crept down the corridor until it ended at a large, circular room filled with vegetation. An enormous tree loomed up from the center, extending gnarled branches skyward, which was easy because the room had no ceiling. Bright sunlight slanted through the leaves, spotting the carpet of grass and wildflowers surrounding the trunk. Birds twittered overhead and butterflies danced through the flowers, adding to the dazzling array of color and light.
It wasn’t real, of course. Leanansidhe’s mansion, according to rumors, existed in a place called the Between, the veil that separated Faery from the mortal world. Supposedly, when using a trod, you passed very briefly through the Between, then into the other realm. How Leanansidhe managed to set up an entire mansion in the space between worlds was baffling, something you just shouldn’t wonder about. No one knew what the outside of the mansion looked like, but I was pretty sure it didn’t have sunlight and birdsong. This room was all faery glamour. A really good illusion—I could smell the wildflowers, hear the bees buzzing past my ear and feel the warmth of the sun—but an illusion nonetheless. I hadn’t come here to smell the flowers, I was here to discover why two faeries were talking about Kenzie.