I grabbed Kenzie’s hand and went, hearing Puck’s mocking laughter behind me as I did. We dodged and wove our way through faeries and Forgotten, avoiding the fighting as best we could. A Summer and Winter knight fought side by side, icy sword and fiery spear whirling in tandem. A pack of goblins swarmed another large Forgotten, stabbing with their bony knives until the giant, leaking smoke from a dozen wounds, finally dissolved into mist.

“Behind you, Ethan Chase!” came the Thin Man’s voice, and I spun, slashing with my blade. A Forgotten, swooping from the air, met a sudden end on my sword edge, and the Thin Man appeared beside me, gesturing toward a line of tents ahead.

“We’re almost there! The watchtower is on the other side of the—”

I felt a pulse go through the air, a sudden surge of immense power, before a shrieking gale ripped the row of tents from the ground and scattered them and several fey in every direction. I staggered back, shielding my face as wind buffeted me, crackles of electricity raising the hair on my arms.

Wincing, I looked up, and the blood froze in my veins. Keirran was walking toward us, hair and cloak snapping in the wind, strands of lightning flickering all around him. His sword was at his side, and his eyes glowed blue-white with power. The look on his face was terrifying—murderous and completely without emotion.

A line of Winter knights rushed him; Keirran waved his hand and lightning streaked from his palm, slamming into the warriors and flinging them back. Roaring, a huge green troll bore down on the prince, tusks and claws gleaming as it barreled toward him. Keirran casually flicked a glance at it, and the troll froze midstride as ice coated its body, turning it into a statue. With a gesture from the prince, the enormous faery shattered, raining to the ground in a thousand glittering shards. I cringed, and Keirran’s cold, emotionless gaze flickered to me, a faint smile crossing his face.

“Hello, Uncle.”

“Kenzie, get back!” I shouted, drawing my swords as Keirran raised a hand, and a blinding streak of lightning shot toward me. I felt the deadly charge of electricity sizzle through the air and didn’t even have time to blink as the lightning bolt slammed into a tree two feet away, splintering the trunk and setting it on fire. I dived aside, rolling to my feet to face my nephew, who looked mildly annoyed that I was still alive.

“Keirran, don’t do this.”

He shook his head. “You’re too late, Ethan,” he said calmly. “Summer and Winter will fall, as will the Veil, and once that happens, once the mortal world can see us permanently, no faery will have to fear Fading away again.”

“That’s not a solution, Keirran!” I shouted, circling around him, away from Kenzie and Annwyl. “What do you think humans will do once they can see the fey? You think we’re all just going to get along? People are going to get hurt! Fey are going to be killed! You can’t go through with this!”

“I am going through with it,” Keirran replied. His voice sent shivers up my spine; it was flat and emotionless, his eyes blank as he watched me. “Because that’s what the Lady desires, and I will be the instrument to carry it through. This is my destiny, Ethan. You and I, we were always meant to become enemies.” He raised a hand, cold Winter glamour swirling around him, coating the ground with frost. Spears of ice formed above his fingers, crinkling sharply as they grew into existence, making my gut knot. “I’m sorry it had to be this way.”

“Keirran, no!”

Annwyl’s voice rang out, and the Summer girl stepped in front of me, facing the prince down. Keirran hesitated, the ice spears trembling overhead as he stared at her.

“This isn’t what you want, Keirran,” Annwyl said, her voice somehow rising over the howl of the wind and the shrieks of battle around us. “I know this isn’t you. The Keirran I know, the Keirran I love, he would never turn on his family. On all of us. Please—” she held out her hand “—you can still stop this. Come back to us. Come back to me.”

“Annwyl.” For just a moment, Keirran’s voice shook, and he closed his eyes. When he opened them, they were the same: cold, blank, resigned. “I loved you, once,” he murmured, and my heart sank. “I think, deep down, a part of me still does.” He shook his head, and his voice grew hard again. “But it’s far too late for me now. I can’t ever be that prince you knew before. And if you stand in my way, I won’t show any mercy.” Annwyl’s face went white, and Keirran gave a sad smile. “Hate me now, but everything I’ve done was for you.”

“Keirran!” Annwyl started forward, but Keirran gestured sharply with his other hand, and a blast of wind slammed the Summer faery aside, causing her to tumble to the ground. At the same time, he flung out his arm, and the cluster of lethal ice spears flew toward me.

I winced and turned away, bracing for a dozen icicles to slam into my body. I felt the wind from their passing, heard the thumps as they struck the ground and trees around me, felt the burn of cold as they left trails of frost on my skin...but no pain.

I glanced up, and saw Keirran looking as surprised as I felt. A field of ice spears surrounded me, glittering in the moonlight, but the space around my feet was clear. Every single one had missed me.

“Oh, yeah.” I grinned and looked back at Keirran, raising my swords. “Forgot about that. Apparently, the Nevernever chose me as its champion. I’m immune to magic and glamour now. Isn’t that a fun little fact? Kinda levels the playing field.”

Keirran scowled. Raising his hand, he sent another flurry of ice spears at me. This time, I didn’t move, watching as they veered to the side, never touching my skin. He gestured, and a lightning bolt flashed from the air, curling around me to slam into the ground, leaving a smoking hole in the dirt. A pulse of glamour went through the ground a second before a tangle of roots and vines erupted, writhing and coiling madly, thorns and woody talons raking the air, but nothing touched me.

I smirked, walking forward through the storm of Winter and Summer glamour, feeling it slide and pass over my skin. “Looks like you’re not the only one who’s destined,” I said, as Keirran’s face darkened with every step I took. A surge of cold swirled toward me, veered away and turned a nearby tree into an icicle, shattering it a moment later. “If you want to kill me, Prince, you’re going to have to do it the old-fashioned way.”

Keirran’s eyes narrowed to icy slits. “So it seems,” he murmured, and raised his own weapon as I approached. “Very well. If that’s the case, then I guess a sword through the heart is the only alternative—aagh!”

He jerked, arching back, as a slender blade punched through his shoulder, spraying blood as it tore through his armor. The Thin Man, his mouth set into a grim line, appeared for a split second behind the prince, clutching the blade sunk into Keirran’s shoulder. The prince whirled, tearing free of the sword, and slashed at his assailant with his own weapon, but the Thin Man was already gone.

“Keirran!” Annwyl cried, as the prince staggered, clutching his shoulder. Blood dripped from his fingers and spread over his shirt as he glared around, searching for his attacker. The Thin Man appeared beside me, the prince’s blood smeared across his sword, his face solemn. I grabbed his arm.

“Hey! What the hell are you doing?”