Julie Kagawa

The Iron Traitor


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was on the couch watching television when we came in, probably waiting up for me, and seemed completely charmed when I introduced her to Kenzie. Of course, I couldn’t imagine any parent not liking Kenzie; she was cute, perky, intelligent and knew how to handle herself around adults. I was the one they’d worry about: the brooding thug, the dangerous hooligan. All I needed was a motorcycle and a cigarette hanging from my mouth to be the Every Parent’s Worst Nightmare poster child.

      I finally managed to get Kenzie away from Mom’s relentless questions, blaming Kenzie’s nonexistent curfew, and steered her out of the kitchen and down the hall to my room. “Sorry about that,” I muttered once we were in the clear. “This is the first time I’ve brought someone home. I think Mom was testing to see if you were, in fact, a real person.”

      “It’s okay.” Kenzie smiled. “At least your parents actually take an interest in what you do. And your mom seems nice.” She stopped at the end of the hall, in front of a plain white door with a nail poking out near the top. “So...this is your room?”

      I narrowed my eyes. “Yeah,” I muttered, because everything was not how I’d left it. There was supposed to be a twist of Saint-John’s-wort hanging on the nail, a final deterrent for faeries wanting into my room. The nail was empty, and both my parents knew better than to take it down. Something else had removed it.

      I took Kenzie’s wrist, gently pulling her behind me. “Stay back,” I warned. “Something’s tampered with my door, and it might be in there right now.” I wished I had the swords my kali master had given me, the twin short blades I’d used in my last battle with the Forgotten, the ones crafted especially for my hands. But they were stowed away in their case under my bed. Even my wooden practice sticks were on the other side of the door. I’d have to go in weaponless, unless I wanted to grab a knife from the kitchen, which I did not want to do with Mom still out there. Fortunately, I could handle myself pretty well empty-handed, too.

      Keeping myself between Kenzie and the entrance, I slowly turned the knob until it clicked, then flung the door back.

      There was a girl sitting on my bed. A lithe, beautiful girl in a green-and-white dress, long chestnut hair tumbling down her back. The tips of her slender, pointed ears peeked up through the shining waves, and her large moss-green eyes regarded me solemnly.

      “Annwyl,” I breathed as Kenzie quickly stepped through the door and closed it behind us. Seeing the Summer faery caused a flood of apprehension to surge up with a vengeance. There was only one reason she could be here, one reason she would come. “What are you doing here? What’s happened to Keirran?”

      CHAPTER FIVE

      THE VANISHED PRINCE

      At the mention of Keirran’s name, Annwyl shivered. I breathed deeply and tried not to let my prejudice of all things fey cloud my reasoning. Annwyl didn’t deserve that. Still, sitting in my room, on my bed in the mortal world, the Summer girl was even more obviously fey. Her dress, made of leaves, petals and wispy cloth, left her shoulders and arms bare, and her skin gave off a faint glow as if sunlit, even though it was the middle of the night. Light and warmth seemed to pulse around her, and my room smelled of cut grass and leaves. I also noticed that vines were crawling up my bedposts from the carpet, coiling around the frame like it was a tree. A huge orange moth fluttered by my head, alighting at the top of the post, and I waved a hand to shoo it away.

      “Annwyl,” Kenzie said, stepping around me. “What’s going on? Are you hurt?”

      “No,” Annwyl replied, looking up at us. “I’m...well, I’m not fine, but this isn’t about me.” She brushed back her hair and sighed. “I apologize, Ethan, Kenzie. I know this is unexpected, and I didn’t mean to barge in. But I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go. It’s...about Keirran.”

      A chill ran through me. “What’s happened to Keirran?”

      “I don’t know,” the Summer girl whispered. She looked tired, worried and frightened. “I haven’t seen him. Not since...that night.”

      “How did you even get in here?” I asked, frowning. “The whole house is warded, not to mention all the deterrents outside. Not that I was trying to keep you out, but I make pretty sure no fey can get in unless I want them to.”

      Annwyl fidgeted, nervously brushing back her hair. “The protective charms and wards around your house are quite good, but they are also very old. I’ve seen them before, back when my sisters and I still accompanied the Summer Queen to the mortal realm. Lady Titania was very good at finding loopholes in the protective wards. I learned from her.”

      Well, damn. I was going to have to find some new anti-fey charms. Something that would deter even the sidhe of the Summer and Winter courts. Less plants and more iron, maybe. It made me think, though. Should I be concerned about Annwyl? She was so unassuming and quiet, easy to overlook. But she was an ageless Summer sidhe, just like Titania and the most infamous faery of the Seelie Court, Robin Goodfellow. I knew that if Puck wanted to get into a house, no anti-faery charm in the world would stop him short of building the whole place out of iron. And even then, he’d probably find a way. Annwyl might not be on that same level, but the fact that she’d gotten around my wards and into my room was proof that she was more than she appeared.

      “I am sorry, Ethan Chase,” Annwyl went on, perhaps sensing my unease. “I did not mean to alarm you. I would have waited for you outside, but—” she shivered “—the Thin Man was coming, and I had to get somewhere safe.”

      I jerked up. Annwyl saw my reaction and wrapped her arms around herself, looking frightened. “I don’t know what he wants, or even what he is,” she said. “I think he might be a Forgotten, but this isn’t the first time I’ve seen him. He was waiting for me at the trod to Leanansidhe’s when I went to find you. I would have come sooner, but when I left the Between, the Thin Man came after me, so I ran back to Leanansidhe’s mansion and used another trod to the mortal realm. Perhaps he is also looking for Keirran and hoped I would lead him to the Iron Prince.” She frowned and lowered her arms, her voice taking on a faint edge. “He would be disappointed.”

      Everyone was looking for Keirran, it seemed. And now I had another faery nuisance hanging around my home, waiting for Annwyl. Great. “So, you don’t know where he is, either,” I said. She shook her head.

      “No. But he sent me this.” She held out a roll of paper, tied with a blue ribbon. Her hand trembled as I took it and unrolled the note, which was handwritten in neat, simple black lines.

      Annwyl,

      Forgive me for not giving this news to you in person. But my parents know about us now, and Leanansidhe’s mansion would be the first place they would look. If the rulers of Mag Tuiredh come to you asking about me, it’s better that you don’t know where I am. That would be best for everyone.

      I don’t care what the courts say; I cannot stand by and watch you Fade from existence, knowing what I do now. One way or another, I will stop this. If I have to search the world over, I won’t stop until I find something to keep you here. The price doesn’t matter; I’ll do whatever it takes. I think you know by now that I love you, and even if we can’t be together, I will accept that, if I know you’re alive and well. It will kill me, but I can let you go if I know that you’re out there somewhere, living, dancing, smiling your beautiful smile.

      You’re always in my thoughts, Annwyl. Please try to endure until I return.

      Your prince,

      —Keirran

      I lowered the note, handing it to Kenzie, and looked at Annwyl in alarm. “What’s Keirran up to?” I asked, studying the faery on my bed. She looked down as tiny yellow flowers began unfurling from the vines coiled around my bedposts. “What’s going on, Annwyl?”

      “I didn’t want him to go,” Annwyl said, closing her eyes. “I don’t want him making deals, putting himself in danger, for me. It’s too late. There’s nothing he can do, now that it’s started.”

      “What