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Deliberately, I reached up and snatched the paper from her fingers. Releasing her, I turned my back on the girl, scanning the note. It was short, messy and confirmed my worst suspicions.
They’re here! Gotta run. If you find this, tell my folks not to worry. Sorry, man. Didn’t mean to drag you into this. —Todd.
I crumpled the note and shoved it into my jeans pocket. What did he expect me to do now? Go to his parents, tell them a bunch of creepy invisible faeries were out to get their son? I’d get thrown into the loony bin for sure.
I felt Kenzie’s eyes on my back and wondered how much of the note she’d seen. Had she read anything in that split second it had taken me to get across the table?
“It sounds like your friend is in trouble,” Kenzie murmured. Well, that answered that question. All of it, apparently.
“He’s not my friend,” I replied, not turning around. “And you shouldn’t get involved. This is none of your business.”
“The hell it’s not,” she shot back. “If someone is in trouble, we have to do something. Who’s after him? Why doesn’t he just go to the police?”
“The police can’t help.” I finally turned to face her. “Not with this. Besides, what would you tell them? We don’t even know what’s going on. All we have is a note.”
“Well, shouldn’t we at least see if he made it home okay?”
I sighed, rubbing my scalp. “I don’t know where he lives,” I said, feeling slightly guilty that I knew so little. “I don’t have his phone number. I don’t even know his last name.”
But Kenzie sighed. “Boys,” she muttered, and pulled out her phone. “His last name is Wyndham, I think. Todd Wyndham. He has a couple of classes with me.” She fiddled with her phone without looking up. “Just a second. I’ll Google it.”
I tried to stay calm while she looked it up, though I couldn’t stop scanning the room for hidden enemies. What were these transparent, ghostlike fey, and why had I not seen them before? What did they want with Todd? I remembered the piskie’s limp body, an empty, lifeless husk before it disappeared, and shivered. Whatever they were, they were dangerous, and I needed to find the half-breed before they did the same to him. I owed him that, for not being there like I promised.
“Got it,” Kenzie announced. “Or, at least, I have his house number.” Glancing up from her phone, she looked at me and raised an eyebrow. “So, do you want to call them or should I?”
I dug out my phone. “I’ll do it,” I said, dreading the task but knowing I had to finish what I started.
She recited a string of numbers, and I punched them into my phone. Putting it to my ear, I listened to it ring once, twice, and on the third, someone picked up.
“Wyndham residence,” said a woman’s voice. I swallowed.
“Um, yeah. I’m a … friend of Todd’s,” I said haltingly. “Is he home?”
“No, he isn’t back from school yet,” continued the voice on the other end. “Do you want me to give him a message?”
“Uh, no. I was … um … hoping to catch him later today so we could … hang.” I winced at how lame I sounded, and Kenzie giggled. I frowned at her. “Do you know his cell phone number?” I added as an afterthought.
“Yes, I have his number.” Now the woman sounded suspicious. “Why do you want to know? Who is this?” she continued sharply, and I winced. “Are you one of those boys he keeps talking about? You think I don’t notice when he comes home with bruises and black eyes? Do you think it’s funny, picking on someone smaller then you? What’s your name?”
I was tempted to hang up, but that would make me look even more suspicious, and it would get me no closer to Todd. I wondered if he’d even told her that he spent the night at my house. “My name is Ethan Chase,” I said in what I hoped was a calm, reasonable voice. “I’m just … a friend. Todd stayed at my place last night, during the storm.”
“Oh.” I couldn’t tell if Todd’s mother was appeased or not, but after a moment, she sighed. “Then, I’m sorry. Todd doesn’t have many friends, none that have called the house, anyway. I didn’t mean to snap at you, Ethan.”
“It’s fine,” I mumbled, embarrassed. I’m used to it.
“One moment,” she continued, and her voice grew fainter as she put the phone down. “I have his number on the fridge. Just a second.”
A minute later, I thanked Todd’s mom and hung up, relieved to have that over with. “Well?” asked Kenzie, watching expectantly. “Did you get it?”
“Yeah.”
She waited a moment longer, then bounced impatiently. “Are you going to call him, then?”
“I’m getting to it.” Truthfully, I didn’t want to. What if he was perfectly fine, and that note was just a prank, revenge for some imagined slight? What if he was halfway home, laughing at how he pulled a fast one on the stupid human? Todd was half-phouka, a faery notorious for their mischievous nature and love of chaos. This could be a great, elaborate joke, and if I called him, he would have the last laugh.
Deep down, though, I knew those were just excuses. I hadn’t imagined that creepy faery, or the dead piskie. Todd wasn’t pretending to be terrified. Something was happening, something bad, and he was right in the middle of it.
And I didn’t want to be drawn in.
Too late now, I suppose. Pressing in Todd’s number, I put the phone to my ear and held my breath.
One ring.
Two rings.
Thr—
The phone abruptly cut off, going dead without sending me to voice mail. A second later, the dial tone droned in my ear.
“What happened?” Kenzie asked as I lowered my hand. “Is Todd all right?”
“No,” I muttered, looking down at the phone, and the end call button at the bottom of the screen. “He’s not.”
I went home after that, having convinced Kenzie that there was nothing we could do for Todd right then. She was stubborn, refusing to believe me, wanting to call the police. I told her not to jump to conclusions as we didn’t exactly know what was going on. Todd could’ve turned off his phone. He could be on his way home and was just running late. We didn’t have enough evidence to start calling the authorities. Eventually, she caved, but I had the feeling she wouldn’t let it go for long. I just hoped she wouldn’t do anything that would attract Their attention. Hanging around me was bad enough.
Back home, I went straight to my room, locking the door behind me. Sitting at my desk, I opened the first drawer, reached all the way to the back, and pulled out the long, thin envelope inside.
Leaning back in the chair, I stared at it for a long while. The paper was wrinkled and brittle now, yellow with age, and smelled of old newspapers. It had one word written across the front: Ethan. My name, in my sister’s handwriting.
Flipping it over, I opened the top and pulled out the letter within. I’d read it a dozen times before and knew it word for word, but I scanned the note one more time, a bitter lump settling in my throat.
Ethan,
I’ve started this letter a hundred times, wishing I knew the right words to say, but I guess I’ll just come out and say it. You probably won’t see me again. I wish I could be there for you and Mom, even Luke, but I have other responsibilities now, a whole kingdom that needs me. You’re growing up so fast—each time I see you, you’re taller, stronger. I forget, sometimes, that time moves differently in Faery. And it breaks my heart every time I come home and see that I’ve missed so much of your life. Please know that you’re always in my thoughts, but it’s best that we live our own lives now. I have enemies here, and the last thing I want is for you and Mom to get hurt because of me.
So, this is goodbye. I’ll be watching you from time to time, and I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you and Mom and Luke can live comfortably. But please, Ethan, for the love of all that’s holy, do not try to find me. My world is far too dangerous; you of all people should know that. Stay away from Them, and try to have a normal life.
If there is an emergency, and you absolutely must see me, I’ve included a token that will take you into the Nevernever, to someone who can help. To use it, squeeze one drop of your blood onto the surface and toss it into a pool of still water. But it can only be used once, and after that, the favor is done. So use it wisely.
I love you, little brother. Take care of Mom for me.—Meghan
I closed the letter, put it on the desk, and turned the envelope upside down. A small silver coin rolled into my open palm, and I closed my fingers around it, thinking.
Did I want to bring my sister into this? Meghan Chase, the freaking Queen of the Iron Fey? How many years had it been since I’d seen her last? Did she even remember us anymore? Did she care?
My throat felt tight. Pushing myself up, I tossed the coin on the desk and swept the letter back in the drawer, slamming it shut. No, I wasn’t going to go crying to Meghan, not for this or anything. Meghan had left us; she was no longer part of this family. As far as I was concerned, she was Faery through and through. And I’d been through enough faery torment to last several lifetimes. I could handle this myself.
Even if it meant I had to do something stupid, something I’d sworn I would never do.
I was going to have to contact the fey.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE EMPTY PARK
At 11:35 p.m., my alarm went off. I slapped it silent and rolled out of bed, already dressed, snatching my backpack from the floor. Creeping silently down the hall, I checked to see if Mom’s light was off; sometimes she stayed up late, waiting for Dad to get home. But tonight, the crack under her door was dark, and I continued my quiet trek out the front door to the driveway.
I couldn’t take my truck. Dad would be home later, and he’d know I was gone if he saw my truck was missing. Sneaking out in the middle of the night was highly frowned upon and tended to result in groundings, lectures and technology banishment. So I dug my old bike out of the garage, checked to see that the tires were still inflated and walked it down to the sidewalk.
Overhead, a thin crescent moon grinned down at me behind ragged wisps of cloud, and a cold autumn breeze sliced right through my jacket, making me shiver. That nagging, cynical part of me hesitated, reluctant to take part in this insanity. Why are you getting involved? it whispered. What’s the half-breed to you, anyway? Are you willing to deal directly with the fey because of him?
But it wasn’t just Todd now. Something strange was happening in Faery, and I had a feeling it was going to get worse. I needed to know what was going on and how I could defend myself from transparent ghost-fey that sucked the life right out of their victims. I didn’t want to be left in the dark, not with those things out there.
Besides, Mr. Creepy Faery had threatened not only me but my family. And that pissed me off. I was sick of running and hiding. Closing my eyes, hoping They would leave me alone wasn’t working. I doubted it ever had.
Hopping on my bike, I started pedaling toward the one place I’d always avoided until now. A place where, I hoped, I would get some answers.
If the damn fey wanted me as an enemy, bring it on. I’d be their worst nightmare.
Even in gigantic, crowded cities, where steel buildings, cars and concrete dominate everything, you can always find the fey in a park.
It doesn’t have to be a big park. Just a patch of natural earth, with a few trees and bushes scattered about, maybe a little pond, and that’s all they need. I’m told Central Park in New York City has hundreds, maybe thousands of faeries living there, and several trods to the Nevernever, all within its well-groomed perimeter. The tiny park three and a half miles from my house had about a dozen fey of the common variety—piskies, goblins, tree sprites—and no trods that I knew of.
I parked my bike against an old tree near the entrance and gazed around. It wasn’t much of a park, really. There was a picnic bench with a set of peeling monkey bars and an old slide, and a dusty fire pit that hadn’t been used in years. At least, not by humans. But the trees here were old, ancient things—huge oaks and weeping willows—and if you stared very hard between the branches, you sometimes caught flickers of movement not belonging to birds or squirrels.
Leaving the bike, I walked to the edge of the fire pit and looked down. The ashes were cold and gray, days or weeks old, but I had seen two goblins at this pit several weeks ago, roasting some sort of meat over the fire. And there were several piskies and wood sprites living in the oaks, as well. The local fey might not know anything about their creepy, transparent cousins, but it couldn’t hurt to ask.
Crouching, I picked up a flat rock, dusted it off, and set it in the center of the fire pit. Digging through my pack, I pulled out a bottle of honey, stood and drizzled the golden syrup onto the stones. Honey was like ambrosia to the fey; they couldn’t resist the stuff.
Capping the bottle, I tossed it into my pack and waited.
Several minutes passed, which was a surprise to me. I knew the fey frequented this area. I was expecting at least a couple of goblins or piskies to appear. But the night was still, the shadows empty—until there was a soft rustle behind me, the hiss of something moving over the grass.
“You will not find them that way, Ethan Chase.”
I turned, calmly. Rule number two: show no fear when dealing with the Fair Folk. I could have drawn my rattan sticks, and in all honesty I really wanted to, but that might have been taken as a sign of nervousness or unease.
A tall, slight figure stood beneath the weeping willow, watching me through the lacy curtain. As I waited, a slender hand parted the drooping branches and the faery stepped into the open.
It was a dryad, and the weeping willow was probably her tree, for she had the same long green hair and rough, bark-like skin. She was impossibly tall and slender, and swayed slightly on her feet, like a branch in the wind. She observed me with large black eyes, her long hair draped over her body, and slowly shook her head.
“They will not come,” she whispered sadly, glancing at the swirl of honey at my feet. “They have not been here for many nights. At first, it was only one or two that went missing. But now—” she gestured to the empty park “—now there is no one left. Everyone is gone. I am the last.”
I frowned. “What do you mean, you’re the last? Where are all the others?” I gazed around the park, scanning the darkness and shadows, seeing nothing. “What the hell is going on?”
She drifted closer, swaying gently. I was tempted to step back but held my ground.
The dryad tilted her head to one side, lacy hair catching the moonlight as it fell. A large white moth flew out of the curtain and fluttered away into the shadows. “You have questions,” the dryad said, blinking slowly. “I can tell you what you wish to know, but you must do something for me in return.”
“Oh, no.” I did step away then, crossing my arms and glaring at her. “No way. No bargains, no contracts. Find someone else to do your dirty work.”
“Please, Ethan Chase.” The dryad held out an impossibly slender hand, mottled and rough like the trunk of the tree. “As a favor, then. You must go to the Iron Queen for us. Inform her of our fate. Be our voice. She will listen to you.”
“Go find Meghan?” I thought of the coin lying abandoned on my desk and shook my head. “You expect me to go into the Nevernever,” I said, and my stomach turned just thinking about it. Memories crowded forward, dark and terrifying, and I shoved them back. “Go into Faery. With Mab and Titania and the rest of the crazies.” I curled my mouth into a sneer. “Forget it. That’s the last place I’ll ever set foot in.”
“You must.” The dryad wrung her hands, pleading. “The courts do not know what is happening, nor would they care. The welfare of a few half-breeds and exiles does not concern them. But you … you are the half brother of the Iron Queen—she will listen to you. If you do not …” The dryad trembled, like a leaf in a storm. “Then I’m afraid we will all be lost.”
“Look.” I stabbed a hand through my hair. “I’m just trying to find out what happened to a friend. Todd Wyndham. He’s a half-breed, and I think he’s in trouble.” The dryad’s pleading expression didn’t change, and I sighed. “I can’t promise to help you,” I muttered. “I have problems of my own to worry about. But …” I hesitated, hardly believing I was saying this. “But if you can give me any information about my friend, then I’ll … try to get a message to my sister. I’m still not promising anything!” I added quickly as the dryad jerked up. “But if I see the Iron Queen anytime in the near future, I’ll tell her. That’s the best I can offer.”
The dryad nodded. “It will have to do,” she whispered, shrinking in on herself. She closed her eyes as a breeze hissed through the park, rippling her hair and making the leaves around us sigh. “More of us have disappeared,” she sighed. “More vanish with every breath. And they are coming closer.”
“Who are they?”
“I do not know.” The faery opened her eyes, looking terrified. “I do not know, nor do any of my fellows. Not even the wind knows their names. Or if it does, it refuses to tell me.”
“Where can I find Todd?”
“Your friend? The half-breed?” The dryad took a step away, looking distracted. “I do not know,” she admitted, and I narrowed my gaze. “I cannot tell you now, but I will put his name into the wind and see what it can turn up.” She looked at me, her hair falling into her eyes, hiding half her face. “Return tomorrow night, Ethan Chase. I will have answers for you, then.”
Tomorrow night. Tomorrow was the demonstration, the event I’d been training for all month. I couldn’t miss that, even for Todd. Guro would kill me.
I sighed. Tomorrow was going to be a long day. “All right,” I said, stepping toward my bike. “I’ll be here, probably some time after midnight. And then you can tell me what the hell is going on.”
The dryad didn’t say anything, watching me leave with unblinking black eyes. As I yanked my bike off the ground and started down the road, hoping I would beat Dad home, I couldn’t shake the creeping suspicion that I wouldn’t see her again.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE DEMONSTRATION
The next day was Saturday, but instead of sleeping in like a normal person, I was up early and in the backyard, swinging my rattan through the air, smacking them against the tire dummy I’d set up in the corner. I didn’t need the practice, but beating on something was a good way to focus, to forget the strangeness of the night before, though I still couldn’t shake the eerie feeling whenever I remembered the dryad’s last warning.
More of us have disappeared. More vanish with every breath. And they are coming closer.
“Ethan!”
Dad’s voice cut through the rhythmic smacking of wood against rubber, and I turned to find him staring blearily at me from the patio. He wore a rumpled gray bathrobe, his face was grizzled and unshaven, and he did not look pleased.
“Sorry, Dad.” I lowered the sticks, panting. “Did I wake you up?”
He shook his head, then stepped aside as two police officers came into the yard. My heart and stomach gave a violent lurch, and I tried to think of any crimes I might’ve committed without realizing it, or anything the fey might’ve pinned on me.
“Ethan?” one of them asked, as Dad watched grimly and Mom appeared in the door frame, her hands over her mouth. “Are you Ethan Chase?”
“Yeah.” I kept my arms at my sides, my sticks perfectly still, though my heart was going a mile a minute. The sudden thought of being arrested, being handcuffed in my own backyard in front of my horrified parents, nearly made me sick. I swallowed hard to keep my voice steady. “What do you want?”
“Do you know a boy named Todd Wyndham?”
I relaxed, suddenly aware of where this was going. My heart still pounded, but I kept my tone light, flippant, and I shrugged. “Yeah, he’s in a few of my classes at school.”
