“Finally.” Grimalkin sat up and stretched, arching his back. “Then, if we are quite finished babbling at each other, perhaps we can get on with saving the Nevernever?” His half-lidded eyes fixed on me. “There is a group of Forgotten converging on this area right now. I suggest we hurry, unless you think you can talk them to death.”

I straightened. “The Forgotten are coming? Now?”

“I do find that human habit of repeating everything they are told so very endearing.” Grimalkin scratched an ear and looked to the Thin Man. “But perhaps we can speed things up a little? I assume you can get to the Between from here.”

“Yes,” the Thin Man said, and disappeared. I jumped, looking around for the sneaky faery, but he reappeared on the other side of the pool, walking toward us. “Though the trod to the Exile Queen no longer exists here, the Veil between it and the Nevernever is still quite thin. So we should be able to enter the Between fairly easily.”

Reaching out, he stuck an arm between the pillars, and his fingers vanished into empty space as I’d seen Keirran’s do several times before, parting the curtain between worlds. The Thin Man eased the Veil aside, and a dark tear appeared through the archway, mist boiling out of the opening. The Thin Man smiled. “After you, humans. Oh, but a word of warning.” He held out his remaining arm, stopping us. “The Between, much like the Forgotten, is an empty space that can be shaped and re-formed into whatever it needs to be. Mansions, towns, even whole kingdoms—all can be created out of nothing, if one has a strong enough will and desire to see it born. Of course, without some kind of anchor, these embodiments of will simply vanish into nothingness again, but many things have been created in the dark spaces between worlds. And at the moment, the Between is quite sensitive, unstable even. Do not let your emotions get the better of you, or you could will something into existence that might prove...problematic.”

Well, that sounded awesome. Sheathing one of my swords, I reached out and took Kenzie’s hand. She laced our fingers together, squeezing hard, while Razor peeked out of her hair and bared his teeth at the cat peering down at us.

“Bad kitty,” he growled, as Grimalkin yawned and very deliberately raised a paw to lick it. “Evil bad kitty. No like. Go ’way.”

Kenzie looked up, as well. “Are you coming with us, Grimalkin?”

The cat gave a slow blink. “I am curious as to what has happened to Leanansidhe’s mansion,” he replied. “She has proven most elusive to track down, and it is uncertain if she and her minions are even alive after the destruction of the Veil. So, yes, humans. I will be accompanying you. That was part of the bargain.” Grimalkin sniffed and curled his whiskers at me. “If you ever get started, that is.”

“Oh, shut up. We’re going.” Taking a deep breath, I raised my weapon, tightened my grip on Kenzie’s hand and stepped through the tear, feeling that cold, spidery tickle that was absent before. The Thin Man stepped behind us, holding open the curtain, and Grimalkin trotted through the crack, tail held high. Then the Thin Man dropped his arm, the tear swooshed shut, and we were trapped between the real world and the Nevernever.

And it was just as creepy and uninviting as before. There was no light, no sky, no shadows. Everything was a flat, muted gray, the fog so thick you couldn’t see ten feet in front of you. There were no sounds or smells. Or any signs of life. Nothing but mist and fog and emptiness.

Pretty damn depressing, actually.

A nearby patch of fog suddenly roiled and curled back, revealing a gnarled, withered tree, drooping branches bent under the weight of large, pulpy fruit. I frowned, certain nothing had been there a moment before. The tree looked...angry, somehow. Maybe it was because the fruit, hanging from the limbs, looked eerily similar to human heads. Scowling human heads.

I felt a jolt and stumbled back, nearly bumping into the Thin Man. One of the ugly fruits had shifted a bit, and I saw that it was me. My head, my face, twisted into a grotesque scowl as it dangled there on the branch. The Thin Man looked over and let out a sigh.

“I told you, boy. Don’t let your emotions get the better of you.” He waved a hand at the tree and the mist beyond. “The Between is quite sensitive right now. It will latch on to any strong emotion and turn it into an embodiment of will, and you might not like the results. So let’s try to keep those nasty negative feelings to a minimum, shall we?”

I’ll show you a nasty negative feeling, I thought, but behind me, the tree branches rattled, shaking the fruit, and I took a deep breath, trying to control myself. The Thin Man sniffed.

“This way, please,” he stated, turning in a seemingly random direction. “I have a general idea where Leanansidhe’s mansion is located, but I’m not entirely certain how long it will take to get there. I advise you to stay close. Wouldn’t want any of you getting lost.”

I’m sure you wouldn’t...no, stop it Ethan! Happy thoughts, remember? I looked at Kenzie, who made an exaggerated scowling face, as if she knew what I was thinking. I rolled my eyes, and she grinned.

With the Thin Man leading and Grimalkin’s tail poking up from the mist like a fuzzy periscope, we started into the fog.

CHAPTER TEN

CARNIVAL OF HORRORS

I lost track of how long we walked. Maybe minutes, maybe hours or days, it was impossible to tell. It was bad enough in the wyldwood or the Nevernever, where time was completely screwy and you had no way of knowing how much had passed. At least the wyldwood still had a day and a night. Here in the Between, there was nothing. I felt like I’d been dropped into a vacuum, with no way of knowing if we were still on track or walking in circles. If I’d been alone, if I hadn’t had Kenzie, Grimalkin, even Razor’s disturbed mutterings from Kenzie’s shoulder, I’d probably have started to go completely nuts.

As I strode through knee-high mist, my foot hit something solid and unyielding, hidden in the fog, and I tumbled forward with a yelp, barely catching myself.

When I looked up, the world had changed.

The nothingness had disappeared, as had the dull gray light that muted everything, though the mist was still there, drifting in ragged shreds along the ground. Straightening slowly, a chill crawling up my spine, I wished I had the foggy emptiness back.

I stood at the edge of a carnival, abandoned and silent, red-and-white tents flapping limply in the breeze. The area was muddy and littered with trash, popcorn containers, deflated balloons and empty paper cups rolling along the ground or floating in puddles. The silhouette of a Ferris wheel loomed in the distance, and the entire scene looked like it could’ve come straight out of a horror movie.

“Oh, blast it all,” the Thin Man said, stepping up beside me. “Someone has found an anchor.”

I frowned at him. “A what?”

“An anchor,” the Thin Man repeated, gesturing impatiently. “Something that exists simultaneously in the Between and the real world. Generally, nothing lasts in the Between. You could will an entire town into existence, only to have it fade away and vanish within the hour. Nothing created here is permanent unless you have an anchor, a tie to the real world. It is how Leanansidhe built her mansion, how she forged her own realm in the Between when there should be nothing.” He looked around the creepy carnival and shook his head. “How very annoying.”