The Iron Traitor (The Iron Fey) (13 page)

“Well, she’s not,” the hooded figure said, his voice hard. “And you’ll deal with me, because there’s no time left. The Fade has already begun.”

“Already begun?” The man straightened, suddenly intrigued. “Well, if that is the case, she’ll need the strongest mix possible. Of course...” He eyed the figure, a slow smile spreading over his face. “That means the price will be...quite high.”

“That’s fine” was the immediate answer. “Price doesn’t matter. Whatever it takes, as long as it’s from me.”

“No!”

Annwyl couldn’t contain herself any longer. Breaking away, she rushed around the shelf into the room. “Keirran, no!”

Cursing, I scrambled out of hiding, Kenzie right behind me, as the hooded figure spun, his cloak swirling around him. My stomach lurched as our gazes met. Cold ice-blue eyes stabbed at me from beneath the hood, and bright silver hair fell around his face, the only spots of color to be seen. Beneath the cloak, he was dressed in black: black shirt, pants, boots, even gloves. I remembered the smiling, easygoing faery from just a week ago. The hard-eyed creature dressed all in black, staring at me in this den of shadow and fear, seemed like a stranger.

But then his gaze slid to Annwyl, and the cold stranger disappeared as shock replaced the impassiveness in his eyes. Keirran stepped forward, his voice an awed whisper. “Annwyl?”

She rushed forward, and the prince’s arms opened as the Summer girl threw herself into him. Keirran hugged her close, closing his eyes. “Annwyl,” he murmured again, sounding relieved and almost desperate. His hood had fallen back, and the torchlight glimmered over his loose silver hair as he buried his face in her neck. Kenzie smiled, watching them, while I glared at the man and the lurking redcaps, making sure they didn’t try anything.

Keirran pulled back but didn’t release the Summer faery, pressing a palm to her cheek, his face intense, worried. “Annwyl, what are you doing here? Why aren’t you with Leanansidhe? Ethan...” His icy gaze flicked to me, but it was just puzzled now, looking like the prince I remembered. “Why are you and Kenzie here?”

“I asked them to come,” Annwyl replied, drawing Keirran’s attention back to her. “I needed to find you. They agreed to help.”

“Excuse me,” said the man behind the desk, standing up. His redcap guards had drawn forward, but he held up a hand, waving them back. “Not to interrupt, but we do have a business transaction to complete.” His stark black eyes fixed on Annwyl, and he cocked his head. “I assume this is the friend in question?”

Keirran sobered. “Yes,” he replied, keeping a tight hold of Annwyl’s hand as he stepped forward. “It is. Can you help her? I’ll pay any price.”

“No!” Annwyl tugged at his sleeve, and he gave her a puzzled frown. She drew him away from the desk, back toward the corner. Kenzie and I followed, myself keeping a wary eye on the man and his redcap guards.

Back near the shelf with its awful contents, Annwyl faced Keirran again, taking both his hands. “Keirran, please,” she whispered, gazing into his eyes. “You can’t do this. I don’t want you bargaining your life away, not for me. The price is always too high. You don’t—”

He kissed her, stopping her arguments. Kenzie blinked, and I looked away, my face heating. Keirran didn’t seem to notice or care. Pulling back, he gazed down at Annwyl, his face angry, defiant and tender all at once.

“I love you,” he said, without a trace of embarrassment or hesitation. “Please, let me do this. I finally found a way to halt the Fade. Mr. Dust has something that can stop it. No price is too high for that.”

“A way to stop the Fade?” Annwyl looked stunned, and Keirran smiled at her.

“Yes,” he replied, brushing her hair back. “There is something that can halt it, Annwyl. If it will keep you here, if it will stop you from Fading, I will gladly pay the cost, whatever it might be.”

I didn’t like where this was going at all. Another cardinal rule of Faery: if something seemed too good to be true, it was. “What is it?” I asked, and Keirran’s gaze flicked to me. “This miracle cure that can stop the Fade,” I continued. “If it’s so wonderful, why don’t more of the fey know about it? Why is this place so difficult to find?”

He hesitated this time, and I narrowed my eyes. Kenzie, it appeared, had caught it, too. “Truth, Keirran,” she added, making him wince. “You owe it to Annwyl, before either of you agree to anything. She should know what’s going on. What’s the catch?”

“There is no catch,” Keirran said in a soft voice. Annwyl gazed up at him, and he turned back to her, lowering his head. “Mr. Dust offers a special kind of potent glamour that can temporarily halt the Fade,” he began. “He has several clients that are exiles, those banished from the Nevernever, but he has also started working with the Forgotten, now that they can no longer drain the magic of exiled fey. It’s distilled from the glamour of mortals, and taken in small, consistent amounts, it will provide the user with enough magic to live in the mortal world. However, the way he acquires it is...upsetting for some.”

“How?” I asked, not liking the sound of that at all. “What does he use to ‘acquire’ this glamour?”

“Fear” was the quiet response. “Fear is very powerful, and the stronger the fear, the more potent the glamour acquired from it. Most mortals don’t believe in the fey—they can’t see them, and they’ve stopped believing in monsters.” He swallowed. “Except one very select group.”

I felt ill and had to fight a very real urge to drive my fist into Keirran’s jaw. “You mean children,” I growled, remembering my own days as a toddler, seeing my closet door creak open, eyes peering at me from the darkness. “Little kids, before they grow up and forget about the monsters in their room. That’s where this ‘cure’ comes from, doesn’t it?”

He met my gaze, unrepentant. “I know. I know it’s horrible. But mortal children have been frightened by the fey and the things in the dark since time began. It’s nothing new. Why shouldn’t someone take advantage of that? Especially if it can save lives?” He turned from me then, drawing Annwyl close, his voice pleading. “I would do anything to save you,” he whispered. “If there was another way, someone else I could go to, I wouldn’t be here. But this is the only solution I could find, and I’ve searched the world over, looking for magic spells, scrolls, amulets, anything that would help. Nothing was powerful enough to stop the Fade.”

Amulet.
Something clicked in my head then. Kenzie wore an amulet, one that contained some pretty potent magic. Magic that had saved her life once. What had Guro told me that night, right before I left for New Orleans?

If you or your friends need anything, magic or otherwise, please come to me. I cannot go with you into the hidden world, but I can make it so it is not quite so dangerous. Remember that, if you are ever in need of help.

It was a long shot for certain. I didn’t know what kind of magic Guro could do, if he could even help a faery. But he knew about the hidden world, and I’d seen his magic with my own eyes. And given the choices, I’d rather take my chances with Guro than a creepy faery drug dealer whose “payment” would likely be something horrible.

Of course, we still had to convince my stubborn nephew not to go through with this.

“I’ve exhausted all other options,” Keirran went on earnestly, unaware of my sudden revelation. “There’s nothing left. I have to bargain with Mr. Dust.”

“At what cost, Keirran?” Annwyl shook her head. “Am I to take this glamour forever? Will you continue to pay for my life? What will happen if he asks for something unforgivable, something you cannot give?” Keirran closed his eyes, pressing his forehead to hers, and Annwyl stroked his cheek. “Even if this could keep me here awhile longer, I couldn’t bear the price. I couldn’t live with the knowledge that you are taking my place.”

“If it’s the only way—”

“It’s not,” I said, interrupting him. “Dammit, Keirran, just listen to me for a second. There might be another way.”

Ice-blue eyes turned to me, surprised and wary. Kenzie and Annwyl glanced my way as well, their expressions puzzled. But at that moment, it seemed Mr. Dust had had enough. “Humans,” he rasped, a note of irritation in his voice. “This is a place of business, not a place to stand around and chat. If you are quite finished, I believe the boy and I have a contract to fulfill.”

He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small leather pouch, pulling it open with long, bony fingers. Reaching into the bag, he pulled out a handful of black dust, letting it slip through his fingers into the bag again. The grains sparkled in the torchlight, like powdered black diamond, and I felt a chill slide up my back. “This is what you came for, is it not?” he whispered, staring at Keirran, who straightened at the sight of it.

“Keirran,” I warned, desperate to stop him, knowing he had only to speak one word to complete this bargain. “Do
not
say yes. You don’t have to do this. I’m telling you, there’s another way. You just have to trust me.”

“Keirran, please listen to him,” Annwyl said, taking his arm.

The prince finally turned to me, his expression intense. “Can you promise me your way will work?” he asked, his voice fervent. “Can you swear that if I agree to this, Annwyl will be saved?”

“I...” I hesitated, stabbing a hand through my hair. “I can’t...make that promise,” I admitted, watching his eyes narrow. “I just know someone who might be able to help.” Frustration colored my voice, and I jerked a thumb at the faeries watching us. “But it’s gotta be better than drugging your girlfriend with whatever crack this sicko is dealing.”

“But you don’t know.” Keirran’s tone was frustrated, too. “You don’t know if your way will stop the Fade. I can’t risk it, Ethan. Not now.”

“Boy.” Mr. Dust’s voice was no longer soothing or cajoling. “You are trying my patience,” he warned, and I noticed several more redcaps and an ogre had crept out of the shadows to join him. All the faeries looked pretty unfriendly, watching us with glowing eyes, a string of drool hanging from the ogre’s tusk. “And I have other clients waiting up front, so I’ll need an answer, boy. What’s it to be?”

Keirran took a breath to speak, but Kenzie beat him to it.

“These other clients,” she said, making us all stare at her, “they’re Forgotten, aren’t they?”

Mr. Dust blinked at her, then shrugged. “Yes,” he said. “As I said before, many of my clients are exiles, but the Forgotten Queen and I have worked out a deal. I provide them with the glamour they need to live, since they cannot get it anywhere else, and in turn they perform...certain tasks for me. A fair bargain for all.”

“Yeah?” Kenzie’s expression was hard, angry. “Fair bargain, huh? Then answer me this. The Forgotten didn’t always look like that, all dark and shadowy. Did they get that way from taking your black dust or from something else?”

The faery sniffed. “The Forgotten are a special case,” he said, and I heard him trying to dance around the question. “My dust is very potent, and it seems they have no glamour of their own to temper it. Very recently, a few of them have begun...changing, taking on the darker aspects that went into its making. They’re starting to personify fear. Fear of the unknown, of the shadowy terrors that lurk in the darkness and under beds. Fear of the dark and all that it hides.”

“So, you’re turning them into nightmares? Is that what’s happening?”

“Of course not.” Mr. Dust bared flat, even teeth in a very unhuman grimace. “I don’t see why I must explain this to you, mortal, but...think of a painting of a sunset. Everyone knows what a sunset looks like. If someone told you to paint a sunset, you would at least know where to start, yes?” He didn’t wait for her to answer, but continued in the same slightly irritated voice. “Now, mortal, picture a blank canvas. Imagine that you’d never seen a sunset, didn’t even know what one looked like, and someone asked you to paint one. Not only that, the only colors you were allowed were black and gray. Do you think your sunset would look anything like the real thing?

“The Forgotten are a blank canvas,” Mr. Dust went on as Kenzie frowned in confusion. “No one knows what they are, no one remembers what they looked like. The Forgotten themselves barely remember anything. Who they were, how they lived—it’s all a blank to them. And so, they can be altered, if the only ‘colors’ they are provided are shades of black and gray. They can change...they can be molded into something completely different than their original form. So you saw with the crowd outside. Soon, that will be all they know.

“But you need not worry your pretty head about that, mortal.” Mr. Dust waved a thin, airy hand. “Only the Forgotten are susceptible to that little...side effect. Your friend was part of the Seelie Court once, yes?” He smiled at Annwyl, who shivered. “She will not be affected like them.

“Now.” Mr. Dust turned back to Keirran, clasping his hands together. “We keep getting interrupted, my boy,” he stated, a dangerous edge creeping into his sibilant voice. “And I am losing patience. I need an answer. This instant. And if your friends attempt to stop us, I will have the redcaps rip out their throats.” The pouch appeared again, dangling from a long, bony finger. “Do we have a deal?”

“You still haven’t told me the price,” Keirran said before I could interrupt. “What do you want for it?”

“Dammit, Keirran—”

“I’ve come all this way,” the Iron Prince said coolly, still not looking at me or any of us. “I can’t leave empty-handed. Not if it means saving her life.” His gaze met the faery dealer’s, cold and rational. “What’s the cost for the dust tonight?”

Mr. Dust smiled.

“A very special bargain,” he crooned, his sharp gaze flicking to Kenzie and me. “A onetime offer. The price for the dust will be...the two mortals. Give them to me, and I will provide your girl with a lifetime supply of glamour. You will never have to make another payment after tonight.”

“What?”
My skin crawled, and the walls of the room seemed to close in on us. I glared at the faery dealer, my hands dropping to my swords. “Not that I have any intention of letting that happen, but why the hell do you want us?”

“They have the Sight,” Mr. Dust continued, speaking to Keirran and ignoring me. “If they can See us, they can fear us, and that is worth more than the nightmares of a dozen children. Give me the two humans, Prince, and I will provide you with all the glamour you need, for as long as they are alive. Be warned, however. If you refuse, the price will become much higher. That is my offer, boy. What say you? Do we have a deal?”