“Ethan,” Leanansidhe warned, “you’re wearing a hole through my carpet, darling. Sit down.” She pointed to a chair with her cigarette holder, pursing her lips. “The minions aren’t going to bite anyone’s knees off, and I’d hate to have to turn you into a harp for the rest of the evening. Sit.”

I pulled out a chair beside Kenzie and sat, still glaring at the biggest redcap, the guy with the fishhook through his nose. He sneered and bared his teeth, but then Razor knocked over a platter of fruit, and he hurried off with a curse. Leanansidhe threw up her hands.

“Keirran, dove. Your gremlin. Please keep it under control.” The Exile Queen pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed heavily. “Worse than having Robin Goodfellow in my house,” she murmured, as Kenzie clapped her hands, and Razor bounced happily into her lap. Leanansidhe shook her head. “Anyway, darlings, when you are finished here, I will have Annwyl show you the way to the trod. Meet her in the main hall, and she will take you out through the basement. If you have any questions about the ritual, I’m sure she can answer them for you.” At the mention of Annwyl’s name, Keirran glanced up, and Leanansidhe smiled at him. “I’m not a compete soulless harpy all the time, darling. Besides, you two remind me of another pair, and I just adore the irony.” She snapped her fingers and handed her cigarette flute to the redcap who scurried up. “Now, I’m off to meet a jinn about another disappearance, so don’t wait up for me, darlings. Oh, and, Kenzie, pet, when you finish the ritual, you might feel a bit odd for a moment.”

“Odd?”

“Nothing to worry about, dove.” The Exile Queen waved her hand. “Merely the completion of our bargain. I will see you three again soon, but not too soon, I hope.” She looked directly at me when she said this, before turning away in a swirl of glitter and lights. “Ciao, darlings!”

And she was gone.

As soon as she left, Annwyl came into the room, not looking at any of us. “Leanansidhe has bid me to show you to the faery ring tonight,” she said in her musical voice, gazing straight ahead. “We can leave whenever you are ready, but the ritual takes place at midnight, so we should depart soon—”

She paused as Keirran pushed back his chair and walked up to her. Taking her hand, the prince drew her to the table and pulled out the chair next to his, while Razor giggled and waved at her from Kenzie’s lap.

“I really shouldn’t be here,” Annwyl said, perching gingerly on the seat. Her green eyes darted around the room, as if the Exile Queen was hiding somewhere, listening to her. “If Leanansidhe finds out—”

“She can take it up with me,” Keirran broke in, sliding into his own chair. “Just because you have to be here doesn’t mean Leanansidhe should treat you like a servant.” He sighed, and for a second, his expression darkened. “I’m sorry. I know you miss Arcadia. I wish there was another place you could go.”

“I’m fine, Keirran.” Annwyl smiled at him, though her expression was wistful. “Avoiding Leanansidhe isn’t much different than avoiding Queen Titania in one of her moods. I worry most for you. I don’t want you to accede to Leanansidhe’s every whim and favor because of me.”

Keirran stared down at his plate. “If Leanansidhe asked me to fight a dragon,” he said in his quiet, sincere voice, “if it meant keeping you safe, I would go into the depths of the Deep Wyld and fight Tiamat herself.”

“How long have you two known each other?” Kenzie asked, as I gagged silently into a coffee mug. These two just needed to admit defeat and get on with it already.

Keirran spared her a quick glance and a smile. “I’m not sure,” he admitted, shrugging. “It’s hard to say exactly, especially in human years.”

“We met at Elysium,” Annwyl put in. “Midsummer’s Eve. When Oberon was hosting. I was chosen to perform a dance for the rulers of the courts. And when it started, I noticed that the son of the Iron Queen couldn’t stop staring at me the whole time.”

“I remember that dance,” Keirran said. “You were beautiful. But when I tried to talk to you, you ran away.” He gave me and Kenzie a wry grin. “No one from Summer or Winter wants to talk to the Prince of the Iron Realm. I’d poison their blood or shoot toxic vapors from my nose or something. Annwyl even sicced a school of undine on me once when I was visiting Arcadia. I very nearly drowned.”

Annwyl blushed. “But that didn’t deter you, did it?”

“So, how did you end up here?” I asked. And Keirran’s eyes narrowed.

“Summer Court politics,” he said, frowning. “One of the minor nobles was jealous about Annwyl’s proximity to Titania, that she was a personal favorite, so she started the rumor that Annwyl was more beautiful and graceful and gifted than even the Summer Queen, and that Oberon would be blind not to see her.”

I winced. “That didn’t go over well, I’m sure.”

“Titania heard of it, of course.” Annwyl sighed. “By then, the rumor had spread so far there was no telling who first mentioned such a thing. The Queen was furious, and even though I denied it, she still feared I would steal her husband’s attention away.”

“So she banished you,” I muttered. “Yeah, that sounds like her.”

“She banished you?” Kenzie repeated, sounding outraged, “because someone said you were prettier? That’s totally unfair! Can’t any of the other rulers do something about it? You’re the prince of the Iron Realm,” she said, looking at Keirran. “Can’t you get the Iron Queen to help?”

Keirran grimaced. “Ah, I’m not really supposed to be here,” he said with a half embarrassed, half defiant smile. “If the other courts knew I was hanging around the Exile Queen, they wouldn’t approve. They’re afraid she’ll put treasonous thoughts in my head, or use me to overthrow the other rulers. But…” And his eyes hardened, the shadow of his father creeping over him, making him look more fey than before. “I don’t care what the courts dictate. Annwyl shouldn’t suffer because Titania is a jealous shrew. So, I asked Leanansidhe to do me a favor, to let her stay here, with the rest of the exiles. It’s not ideal, but it’s better than being out in the real world.”

“Why?” asked Kenzie.

“Because faeries banished to the real world, with no way to get home, eventually fade away into nothing,” Annwyl said solemnly. “That’s why exile is so terrifying. Cut off from the Nevernever, surrounded by iron and technology and humans that no longer believe in magic, we slowly lose ourselves, until we cease to exist at all.”

“Except the Iron fey,” I put in, glancing at Keirran. “So, you’d be in no danger.”

“Well, that and I’m partly human,” he replied, shrugging. “You’re right—iron has no effect on me. But for a Summer fey…” He glanced at Annwyl, worry shining from his eyes. No explanation was needed.

The Summer girl sniffed. “I’m not as delicate as that, Prince Keirran,” Annwyl said, giving him a wry smile. “You make me sound as fragile as a butterfly wing. I watched the druids perform their rites under the full moon long before your ancestors ever set foot on the land. I’m not going to blow away in the first strong wind that comes through the mortal world. Speaking of which,” she went on, rising from the table, “we should get going. Midnight isn’t far now, not where we’re headed. I’ll show you the way.”

* * *

I followed Annwyl, Keirran and Kenzie back through Leanansidhe’s huge basement—or dungeon, I guess—trailing a few steps behind to glare at the things skulking in the shadows. Annwyl had warned us that it might be cold once we emerged from the trod, and Kenzie wore a “borrowed” wool jacket that was two sizes too big for her. The Summer girl offered to find one for me, claiming Leanansidhe had tons of human clothes lying around that she’d never miss, but I didn’t want to put myself into her or Leanansidhe’s debt any more than I had to, so I refused. As usual, I carried my rattan sticks, in case we were jumped by anything nasty. They were starting to fray a little, though, and I found myself wishing more and more for the solid, steel blade in my room at home.

Was I ready for this? Or, more important, was Kenzie ready for this? I’d always considered my Sight a curse, something that I feared and hated and wished I didn’t have. It had brought me nothing but trouble.

But to hear Kenzie talk about it, she considered the Sight a gift, something that she was willing to bargain for, something that was worth a tiny piece of her life. It staggered me; the fey were manipulative, untrustworthy and dangerous, that was something I’d always known. How could we see them so differently? And how was I going to protect her, once they realized she had the Sight, as well?

Wait. Why are you even thinking about that? What happened to your promise to not get involved? I felt a stab of annoyance with myself for bringing that up, but my thoughts continued ruthlessly. You can’t protect her. Once you find Todd and get home, she’ll go back to her world, and you’ll go back to yours. Everyone who hangs around you gets hurt, remember? The best protection you can give anyone is staying the hell away from them.

Yeah, but it was different now. Kenzie was going to have the Sight. She’d be drawn even more heavily into my crazy, screwed-up world, and she was going to need someone to show her the ins and outs of Faery.

Don’t kid yourself, Ethan. That’s an excuse. You just want to see her. Admit it; you don’t want to let her go.

So…what if I didn’t?

“We’re here,” Annwyl said quietly, stopping at a large stone arch flanked by torch-holding gargoyles. “The ring isn’t far. Past this doorway are woods, and then a stretch of moor, with the faery ring in the center of a small grove. It shouldn’t be long now.” She started forward, but Keirran caught her wrist.