Blinking, I turned my head toward the other wall, and my breath caught in my throat.

A chair sat in the corner closest to my bed. Slumped in that chair, with her arms crossed and her head resting against the back, was a girl with pale hair and slender pointed ears.

My sister. Meghan Chase, the Iron Queen.

I watched her for a second, my newly woken mind trying to make sense of it all. Meghan stirred, shifting to another position, a queen trying to get comfortable. A blanket had been draped over her, and a book lay on the ground beneath the armrest. My throat felt suddenly tight. Had she been watching me, keeping vigil at my bedside? How long had I been here, anyway? And what the hell had happened, during the time I was out?

I tried sitting up to call to her. But the movement sent the room into a sickening tailspin, and my voice came out as a choked rasp. Grimacing, I sank back, feeling frail and horribly weak, like I’d been sick for a long time. Still, Meghan must’ve been barely asleep, for her eyes shot open, piercing blue in the gloom, and immediately fell to me.

“Ethan.” Her voice was a breathless whisper, and in an instant, she was at my side. One slender hand gripped mine as she knelt beside me, the other reached out and brushed my face, soft fingers sliding over my cheek. Her eyes were suspiciously bright as they met my gaze. “You’re awake,” she said, her voice faint with relief. “How do you feel?”

I swallowed. My throat was like sandpaper; talking felt like tiny razor blades being dragged through my windpipe, but I managed a hoarse “Okay, I guess.” And then my throat exploded in a coughing fit that brought tears to my eyes.

“Hang on,” Meghan said, and left my side. A minute later she was back with a cup, handing it to me with a stern “Drink it slowly.”

I took a tiny, cautious sip, wondering if it was spiked with faery glamour. It turned out to be water—normal, non-magical water, as far as I could tell. Suddenly parched, I had to force myself to swallow slowly, knowing it would probably come right back up if I gulped too fast. Meghan waited patiently until I was done, then dragged the chair to the side of the bed.

“Better?”

I nodded. “Yeah,” I breathed, testing out my voice. It still sounded raspy, but at least I could talk without coughing. “Where am I?”

“The Iron Realm,” Meghan replied softly. “You’re in Mag Tuiredh.”

The Iron Realm’s capital. Meghan’s court, right in the center of the Nevernever. I’d ended up in Faeryland yet again.

I shifted against the pillow, and the room tilted a bit, making me clench my teeth. Meghan’s expression grew concerned, but I set my jaw, hoping she wouldn’t leave to fetch the doctor or healer or whatever faery creature took care of such things. I was awake and alert, and I still had no idea what was going on. I needed answers.

“How long have I been out?” I asked, gazing at my sister. She didn’t respond immediately, watching me with concerned blue eyes, and something on her face made my stomach twist. “Meghan?” I prodded. “How long have I been here, in the Nevernever?”

“A little over a month,” Meghan finally answered. “As far as we could tell, you’ve been in a coma, until today. No one was certain you would wake up. We found you...at the faery ring in Ireland and brought you here.”

“A month?” I choked out. A month in the Nevernever meant an indefinite amount of time had passed in the real world. A year could’ve flown by while I lay here, oblivious. “Why here?” I asked faintly. “Why didn’t you bring me back to the human world?”

Again, Meghan didn’t answer, gazing down solemnly, her eyes bleak.

“What about Mom and Dad?” I demanded. Right before I left, I’d promised I wouldn’t disappear into Faery for God knew how long. Another promise broken, another lie I’d told the people I loved. Mom was likely freaking out. “Do they know where I’ve been?” I asked. “Has anyone told them? Do they know I’m okay?”

“Ethan,” Meghan whispered, and her voice trembled. And, looking into my sister’s face, my insides went cold with fear. Her expression was haggard, and she stared at me as if I were a ghost. Flickers of raw anguish glimmered behind that composed mask she wore, the guise of the Iron Queen. My memory was fuzzy, but I knew, in the back of my mind, that something terrible had happened.

Closing her eyes, Meghan took a deep breath before facing me again.

“When we found you,” she went on, her voice growing a little stronger, “you were close to death. Your blood was everywhere, and you had already stopped breathing. We did everything we could to save your life, but...” She swallowed, and I could see she was barely keeping herself from bursting into tears. “But, in the end, we lost you.”

My heart seemed to stop. I stared at her, incredulous, my mind refusing to accept the concept. “What...what do you mean?”

“Ethan...you died. For a few minutes, you were dead.”

Reeling, I slumped back against the pillow. Bits of that night came back to me, untangling from the mess of dreams and nightmares. Some of it had been real. “But I’m still here,” I reasoned out, glancing at Meghan. “I’m still alive. How?”

“I don’t know,” Meghan said. “But the healers found this on your body.”

She leaned close and handed me something that clinked in my palm. Cold metal pressed against my skin as I stared at the two pieces of copper in my hand. They fit together perfectly, forming a round, flat disk with a triangle etched into the very center.

An amulet. It had been a gift to me from...my mentor, Guro Javier, for protection against the dangers of the Nevernever. But I hadn’t always had it... My brain spun, trying to remember. I had worn it when I’d gone with Keirran to meet the Lady of the Forgotten in Ireland. And standing in the faery ring, surrounded by dozens of Forgotten, the Lady had told Keirran that the way to tear open the Veil—the magic barrier that kept normal humans from seeing the fey—was a sacrifice. A sacrifice of one whose blood tied him to all three courts, who had family in Summer, Winter and Iron. For the exiled fey to live, for the Forgotten to be remembered by humans once more, I had to die.

And then, Keirran had stabbed me. And I had died.

“My healers tell me there was powerful magic surrounding that amulet,” Meghan continued, her tone unnaturally calm. “And when you...died, it shattered. I thought I’d lost you.” Her voice shook, but she composed herself again. “But just as we stopped trying to revive you, your heart started beating. Very, very slowly, and we couldn’t wake you up, but you were alive.” She looked at the broken amulet in my palm, wonder and relief laced through her voice. “Whatever this was, it probably saved your life.”

I stared at the glittering pieces, not knowing what to feel. My emotions were so jumbled up, it was hard to focus on just one. It’s not every day your older sister informs you that you were dead, even if it was for just a few minutes. And that you had been killed, stabbed in the back, by your own family member.

Keirran.

I forced my thoughts away from my traitor nephew. “Mom and Dad?” I asked hoarsely, glancing at Meghan. “Do they know?”

A pained look crossed her face. “They’ve been told where you are,” she replied. “They know you’re with me, in the Nevernever. I told them something happened to you, and that you have to stay here for a while, for your own protection.” She took a shaky breath. “I couldn’t tell them the truth, not yet. It would’ve killed Mom. I was hoping you would wake up before I had to explain what really happened. Why I couldn’t send you home.”