“No,” I growled.
He looked at me, blue eyes widening with wary surprise. Ignoring him, I glanced down at Kenzie, wondering—hoping—that she thought the same. If she wanted to get out of here, I didn’t know what I was going to do. But she gave me a tiny smile and a nod, making me slump with relief. Gently, I released her and started toward my forgotten swords. Keirran watched me a moment, then shook his head.
“Ethan, you don’t—”
“Keirran, once and for all, get your head out of your ass!” Snatching up one of my blades, I whirled on him, furious. “Do you really think I can go back and tell Meghan that I let you die? When we came all this way to find you? When Annwyl died to...” I trailed off. The prince looked like he’d been punched in the stomach and was about to collapse. “We are leaving together,” I told him firmly. “Right now. Screw the Lady—the other rulers will take care of her. I didn’t come here to fight faery queens. I came for you.” I narrowed my gaze and stared the prince down. “And you are going to walk out of here, alive, and you are going to go back to Meghan and beg for forgiveness and hope she doesn’t kick your ass like you deserve. But I’ll be damned if we went through all this hell to bring you back, and you decide to throw yourself at the Lady and get yourself killed!”
“They’ll never forgive me.”
“Bullshit,” Kenzie broke in, sounding angry, too. Keirran blinked at her, and she scowled. “This whole time you’ve been waging war against the courts, all your parents have thought about was bringing you home. And not just them, either. Puck, Wolf, Grimalkin, the Thin Man, Razor—” Her voice broke on the last name, and she swiped at her eyes. “They’ve all sacrificed something to bring you back.”
“More than you deserve,” I added in a cold voice. He didn’t contradict me, and I pointed a sword at him. “So, you don’t get to play martyr, Keirran. Dying is the easy way out. If you’re really sorry, go back to every single person you put through hell and tell them. Don’t let Annwyl’s sacrifice be for nothing.”
Keirran closed his eyes. “Annwyl,” he finally murmured, and dragged in a shaky breath. “Yes. You’re right. I have...a lot of people I need to apologize to. A lot of things to atone for.” He opened his eyes, and they were bright with grief and regret, but also that stubborn determination I’d seen all too often. “Someday I’ll be worthy of her,” he whispered, almost to himself. “Wherever you are, Annwyl, if you can see me now, I swear I’ll make it right. Let this be the first step.”
Sheathing his sword, he turned to me, his expression solemn. “I’m with you, Ethan,” he said. “Let’s get out of here, before the Lady arrives.”
“Too late, I’m afraid,” announced a new voice, somewhere overhead.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
THE FIRST QUEEN
We spun, looking up, and my heart plummeted.
The Lady, the First Queen, hovered in the air about thirty feet off the ground. She was no longer the pale, faded-out faery I’d seen in Ireland, colorless and nearly transparent, with the shattered skeleton of wings behind her back. Now she glowed with power, jet-black hair flowing around her, eyes shifting from green to blue to solid black in the light. Her wings were now full and as dark as a raven’s, the feathers giving off faint, metallic shivers as they moved in the breeze. She hovered there like a goddess, an avenging angel, her shifting, multicolored gaze settling on me and Keirran.
“My dear prince,” the Lady said, her voice soft, soothing. “I believe you are confused. Did I hear you speak of leaving? Now? When we are so close, one step away from achieving what we had planned?”
“Yes.” Keirran’s tone was firm as he stepped forward, gazing up at her. “I’m done, my lady,” he said. “No more fighting. No more killing. I won’t be your instrument of war any longer.”
She cocked her head. “The war is nearly done, Prince Keirran. Once the Veil falls and mortals are able to see us, the fighting will be long forgotten. We can start over, a new beginning with new rules. A world in which humans actually fear and believe in us as they should, where the Nevernever will grow strong once more, and faeries will never again Fade into nothingness.” Her face softened as she gave Keirran a sympathetic look. “You could have saved your Summer girl, had the boy only gotten here sooner.”
Keirran’s jaw tightened, his eyes turning dangerous. The First Queen held up a finger. “One more death,” she whispered, “that is all I ask of you, Keirran. One death to save thousands, an entire world. Look around you, Prince. Look at what is at stake.”
She raised her arms, indicating the courtyard. I glanced up and saw hundreds of yellow eyes peering at me from atop the courtyard walls. A whole army of silent Forgotten, gazing down at us. A chill raced up my back, and I stepped closer to Kenzie, raising my sword. Keirran stared up at the Forgotten, his expression a mix of sorrow and guilt.
“We have come so far,” the Lady whispered. “So very far. We have survived being forgotten, a war, having the memory of us purged from the Nevernever. We have clung to existence by a thread, and now the instrument of our salvation is standing right there.” The long, elegant finger suddenly pointed right at me. “Kill him, Prince,” she urged, as I tensed. “Once more. For the future of us all. Your hands are already stained with his blood. It should not matter now.” Keirran hesitated, and the Lady’s voice grew triumphant. “You cannot escape destiny, Prince,” she said. “This is what was prophesied from the beginning. This is what you were always fated to do.”