“Hmm,” the Wolf remarked as the curtain of reality closed behind us. Like Razor, his eyes glowed a hazy green as he gazed around the lightless landscape. “So, this is the Between,” he mused, his deep voice echoing through the fog. “I was in a town very much like this, I think. It smelled of nothing, and its residents tried to suck the glamour right out of us.”

“That was my town,” the Thin Man said flatly. “And you shouldn’t even have been able to find it. I still have no idea how the lot of you managed to stumble into Phaed, but it has caused quite the headache, hasn’t it? And now we must fix this mess a certain Winter prince has caused, or the Nevernever and the Between could be lost forever.”

The Wolf growled. “Don’t blame me. He was the one who wanted a soul. I tried warning him.” His gaze slid to Annwyl. “You people and your souls. First, we had to find one, now we have to return one.” He wrinkled his muzzle in disgust. “What good are they, except to cause grief?”

“I don’t know,” Annwyl said softly, touching the cord at her neck. “But Keirran’s always felt so bright. Perhaps if I had one of my own, I wouldn’t be Fading away. I guess I’ll never know now.” She sighed and gazed into the distance, her voice almost wistful. “It won’t be long before my time is done.”

“Noooo,” Razor moaned from Kenzie’s shoulder. “No leave. Stay, pretty elf girl. Stay.”

Well, I had picked up quite the party, hadn’t I? I wondered what Meghan would say when I walked into the faery camp with Kenzie, Annwyl, a gremlin, the Thin Man and the Big Bad Wolf trailing behind me. I wondered what the other rulers would think.

Guess I’d find out soon enough.

“How far to the border of Arcadia?” I asked the Thin Man.

“Not far,” the tall faery replied. Gazing around the empty landscape, he sighed and turned away, raising a hand. “Follow me, and let’s try not to stumble upon any other realities this time.”

“No arguments there.”

We didn’t stumble into any pockets of reality, and when the Thin Man parted the Veil once more, we stepped into the familiar murk and tangle of the wyldwood.

“Arcadia is that way, I believe,” the Thin Man said, pointing in a random direction. “Though I am not certain where the courts would set up camp. The cait sith only mentioned they were at the border of the Summer Court and the wyldwood.”

The Wolf cocked his shaggy head. “I hear rushing water,” he stated, and lifted his muzzle to the wind. “And I smell...many fey. Summer, Winter—” his lip curled back from his fangs “—and Iron.”

“That must be the army,” I said, ignoring the twist in my stomach. Meghan was close. As was the war and probably the First Queen. Soon, I would have to face both my sister and the Iron Prince, and I had no idea which one scared me the most.

Nothing for it now.

Taking a deep breath, I started forward, toward the camp, my sister and maybe the final fight with my nephew.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

UNDER IRON’S BANNER

There were probably a few thousand tents camped along the river’s edge.

“Wow,” Kenzie murmured, gazing into the valley, which looked like some sort of crazy circus or refugee camp. Nearly all available space had been taken up by tents, and fey of every description wandered the narrow paths between. However, I noticed a distinct separation in the tents belonging to Summer, Winter and Iron. The three courts kept solely to their sides of the field, not mingling or interacting with the other territories. At least, that’s what I assumed, based on the different colors of tents clumped together: shades of green and brown for Summer; black, red and blue for Winter. The Iron court was easy to spot. Not only did it sit far away from the other courts; the area around it looked slightly sick. Trees were withered and bent over, plants were in the process of dying, and even the grass looked dead. I figured such a large amount of Iron fey sitting in the middle of the wyldwood was slowly poisoning the land around them, but nothing could be done about it. Meghan’s court was too powerful an ally not to participate in the war with the Forgotten. Of course, once the fighting was done, Summer and Winter would probably waste no time kicking the Iron fey out of the wyldwood and back to Mag Tuiredh. I wondered how Meghan had been able to put up with them for so long.

“Ugh,” the Wolf growled as he stared into the valley. He backed away from the edge. “Too crowded for my taste,” he said. “You four go ahead. Meet with your rulers, do whatever you have to do. I’ll stay back, keep an eye on the perimeter. Make sure there are no Forgotten sneaking around the edges.”

“You sure, Wolf?” Kenzie asked. The Wolf panted a grin.

“Oh, trust me, it’s better this way. There’d probably be a panic if I went strolling down there now.” He shook himself, then turned back into the forest. “I’ll be close. If there’s trouble, just scream.”

Loping into the trees, he disappeared.

Stepping out of the forest, we headed toward the river and a wooden bridge that spanned the bank. Two sidhe knights guarded the entrance of the bridge, tall and slender, in blue-and-white armor with icicles growing out of the shoulders and helmets. The Winter knights glared at us as we approached, gauntleted hands dropping to their icy swords.

“Hold,” one growled as we stopped a few feet from the posts. “Identify yourselves, humans. This camp is off-limits to your kind.”

“My name is Ethan Chase, brother to Her Highness the Iron Queen,” I said, cringing at how douchy I sounded. But, as I discovered, the fey responded better to rank and pomp, and usually bowed to protocol. “Let us pass. I have an important message for my sister.”

The Winter knights eyed each other. It was obvious they didn’t care to be bossed around by a human and were stalling for a way to refuse. I crossed my arms and tried to look impatient and important. The knights finally dropped their hands from their sword hilts.

“Very well,” one of them said reluctantly, and stepped aside. “You may pass, Ethan Chase. The Iron Queen’s tent is on the east side of the camp.”

“Wait,” the other said, just as I relaxed. His gaze slid past Annwyl and Kenzie—thankfully, Razor had hidden down her shirt—and fixed on the Thin Man, waiting quietly behind us. The knight’s cold blue eyes narrowed, and he suddenly drew his sword.

“Forgotten!” he snarled. “That is a Forgotten! Traitor!”

He started forward, a murderous look in his eyes. I drew my swords and stepped between them, blocking his path.

“Not another step,” I warned.

Smirking, he tried shoving me aside using brute force; I dodged his arm, stepped in and put the tip of my sword against his breastplate. The icy armor frayed apart where it touched the steel, dissolving in the air like colored mist, leaving a small hole behind. The knight froze, staring at his ruined breastplate, and I smiled coldly.

“Last time I’ll ask nice.”

“How dare you bring that abomination here!” the knight spat, switching to indignant rage now that raw violence had failed. “How dare you bring a Forgotten into our very midst? The rulers will never stand for it.”

“Will you relax? He’s not with the First Queen.” I spared a split-second glance back at the Thin Man to make sure he was still there. He was, watching the knights calmly, an almost amused expression on his narrow face. I supposed if he was in any real danger, he could essentially make himself invisible. As long as he faced his opponents head-on, he couldn’t be seen.