Must be nice.

“He’s on our side,” I insisted, as the knight gave me a blatant look of contempt. “He’s working with us to stop the First Queen and the rest of the Forgotten, so everyone can just calm down. And we have important information on the war, information that all the rulers will want to hear. But, hey, if you don’t want to let us pass, let it be on your head when the Iron Queen finds out.”

The knights glared at me. “Wait here,” one finally ordered, taking a stiff step back. “I will inform the rulers of your arrival. They can decide what to do with you and your...friends.”

Spinning on a heel, he marched rigidly into camp, while the second knight returned to his post, still watching me with hooded eyes.

“Charming,” Kenzie said, as Razor peeked out of her hair and made faces at the retreating knight. The Thin Man sighed.

“I was afraid this might happen,” he said, and cast a tired glance back at the trees. “Perhaps I should go,” he mused. “Join the Wolf in waiting for you at the edge of the forest. I would not want our mission jeopardized because of the suspicion of the courts.”

“No,” I said. “We wouldn’t have gotten this far if not for your help. You’re staying with us. The courts are just going to have to suck it up and act like reasonable adults for once.”

The Winter knight did not return, but after several tense minutes, the clanking of armor could be heard coming toward us, and a squad of Iron knights marched up to the bridge. “Prince Ethan,” the one in front called. “Please, forgive the wait. If you and your friends would accompany us, we will take you to the Iron Queen.”

I breathed out in relief. Meghan herself had called for me. No having to argue our way past an irate Mab or Titania. We were going directly to see my sister.

I hoped she wasn’t too angry that I had snuck off without her permission. Again.

Glowering, the Winter knight stepped aside to let us pass. I was sorely tempted to smirk at him as we crossed the bridge, but I had just made that “reasonable adult” comment a moment ago, so I refrained. The Iron knights surrounded us, keeping a wary eye on the Thin Man as they did, and we started through the camp.

Faeries stared at us, curious and suspicious, as we followed the knights down the muddy streets. Of course, we had to go through the Unseelie side of camp to get to Iron’s territory, so most of the fey—goblins, redcaps, ogres and the like—looked like they might have attacked us if we hadn’t been surrounded by a wall of iron and steel. Several redcaps trailed alongside the knights, staying just out of reach, and snarled or hurled insults at us, the Thin Man especially. A chill hung over everything, and the air was thick with tension and the threat of violence. Everyone here was twitchy, I realized, eager for battle and bloodshed. I kept one sword out, just in case, and wondered how close the First Queen’s army was and how soon before all hell broke loose.

We finally stepped free of the Winter camp, much to my relief, and the mob of Unseelie fey soon disappeared as we crossed into Iron’s territory. The city of tents looked much different under Meghan’s banner. Unlike the wild chaos of the Unseelie camp, where the dwellings were thrown together in haphazard rows wherever there was room, the tents here were organized in perfectly straight lines, almost like a grid. Instead of torches, lampposts flickered on the corners, iron poles growing right out of the earth. Faeries still stared at us curiously: hacker elves, wire nymphs, Iron knights and swarms of the ever-present gremlins all watched us as we made our way through the camp. But, notwithstanding the gremlins, many of them bowed or nodded as I passed, still treating me like a prince. It made me uncomfortable, but it was better than being called a “tidbit” by a shark-toothed redcap itching to take a chunk out of me.

As we passed beneath a watchtower, a gaggle of buzzing, high-pitched voices rang out, and a swarm of gremlins appeared, clinging to the tower walls. They chattered and waved, garbling at us in their nonsensical language and sounding like a staticky radio station.

Razor popped out of Kenzie’s hair, a huge grin crossing his face as he bounced and waved back, buzzing nonstop. Kenzie winced, tilting her head as she waited patiently for the gremlin’s excited flailing to stop. Razor turned to her, ears pricked, expression hopeful, and she smiled.

“Go on,” she said, and the gremlin took off, shooting up the tower to join the rest of the swarm. They laughed and shrieked in maniacal joy, jumping all over each other, until the entire throng skittered away and was lost from sight. Kenzie shook her head.

“He’ll be back,” she sighed, as their buzzing voices faded away on the wind. “Can’t keep him away, I’m afraid. Did you know I spent about a month teaching my dog to ignore gremlins? My dad and stepmom thought he’d gone nuts, barking at things that weren’t there.” Her face fell then, her eyes going dark. “I wonder what they’re doing now?” she murmured, almost to herself.

My stomach turned. What were my parents doing now? What was going on at home? I knew months had passed in the real world since I saw my parents last, the morning I snuck off to New Orleans with Annwyl and never returned.

“Prince Ethan?” A knight’s voice broke me out of my musings. We had stopped at the entrance of a gray tent, much larger than those around it and guarded by another squadron of knights. I realized we stood in the very center of the Iron camp, and the banner of a huge white oak fluttered in the wind atop the tallest pole. “We’re here, sire,” the knight said with a short bow, and gestured to the tent flaps. “Her Majesty is waiting for you inside.”

I licked my lips, took a furtive breath and stepped through the flaps.

Inside the tent it was dim and cool. A large table stood in the center of the room, a map of the Nevernever spread across it. Colored pins had been pressed into the surface, marking skirmishes or battles or sightings of Forgotten, I didn’t know. I glanced quickly around for Ash and saw that neither he nor Puck were present.

But Meghan stood at the far end of the table, surrounded by Iron fey and looking imposing in a suit of silvery battle mail, a sword dangling at her side. Her hair had been pulled back, fully exposing her pointed ears, and she wore a glittering circlet of wire and steel on her brow. My skin prickled. This was the first time I’d seen her like this, a true Faery Queen, powerful and terrifying, ready to defend her lands.

“Rylan’s scouts are monitoring the situation, Your Majesty,” one of the faeries was saying. “They will inform us if there are any developments, but so far there have been no new sightings of Forgotten anywhere in the wyldwood.”

“Any sign of the First Queen, yet?” Meghan asked.

“No, Majesty.” The faery shook his head. “There have been no sightings of her or Prince—” he stumbled over the word, looking pained “—or Keirran, in the wyldwood or anywhere in the Nevernever.”

The Iron Queen nodded. “Very well,” she said. “Keep monitoring the situation and let me know if anything changes. If Keirran or the First Queen appears, inform me at once.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“That will be all. Dismissed.”

The fey in the room put a fist to their hearts, bowed and shuffled out, weaving around us with polite nods. The Iron Queen remained at the table, gazing down at the surface, until they were gone, and silence descended on the room.