Or maybe someone else. I stood in the same room, facing the lanterns and the crows and the hunched old bird faery in the center of the nest. But I wasn’t me. I don’t know how I knew this; maybe because I couldn’t move or even speak. It was like I was a passenger in someone else’s head.
“And you’re certain this person can help me?”
The voice echoed inside my head, low and familiar. Across from me, the bird faery shook itself. “Secrets for secrets,” it rasped, nodding. “You have what you came for, boy. Leave now.”
I, or rather, the person whose head I was inhabiting, turned, slipped out of the tent and began walking.
I kept my eyes open, though I didn’t have much of a choice, and tried to pay attention to where I was going. Past the goblin market and the vendors haggling their unearthly merchandise, I ducked down a side alley that took me away from the main stretch. Across a deserted street, a wall of old, crumbling apartments sat at the edge of the pavement. I scanned the line of doors until I found the one I was looking for. Simple, unmarked, painted black.
Walking up the three steps to the stoop, I knocked twice, and the door swung back, revealing a shark-toothed redcap in the frame. The faery’s dull yellow eyes widened at the sight of me, but it didn’t move.
“Yeah?” it growled, baring crooked fangs. “Whaddya want?”
“I’m here to see Mr. Dust.”
Mr. who? I wondered, but the redcap blinked slowly and nodded, stepping aside. As I crossed the threshold, I felt a pushing sensation, as if I was being shoved back. A tall figure in a hooded cloak, the head I’d been hijacking, I guessed, stepped away from me, walking through the frame and leaving me behind. I tried to follow, but I couldn’t move without my host body, and the redcap slammed the door in my face.
I jerked, opening my eyes, to find Kenzie and Annwyl staring at me anxiously. The bird faery, too, peered at me from beneath its hood, silent and waiting. I rubbed my eyes, trying to shake the creepy feeling of being in someone else’s head.
“You okay?” Kenzie asked, and there was a note of real concern in her voice, not just a courtesy offered to a friend. I nodded.
“Yeah. I’m fine.” Turning around, I stared at the tent flaps, remembering the way they’d parted for the figure, his path through the goblin market and the unmarked black door at the top of the steps. “Better yet, I know where to find Keirran.”
* * *
“Well, that’s just all kinds of ominous,” Kenzie remarked as we stood at the bottom of the steps, gazing up at the black door. “Didn’t I see this once in American Horror Story?”
“This place feels wrong.” Annwyl gave the buildings and especially the door a suspicious glare and shook her head. “Why would Keirran come here?”
“Let’s go ask him.” I double-checked to make sure my swords were still in place, then walked up the steps and knocked twice on the wood.
It creaked open to reveal the same redcap on the other side, who gave me an astonished look as he peered through the frame. “Well, well,” it mused as the shock faded and was replaced by eager hunger. “What do we have here? You lost, human? You can obviously See me, so you should’ve known not to come here.”
“I’m looking for Mr. Dust,” I said, and the redcap snorted.
“How do you know that name? And why would a human need to see Mr. Dust? He ain’t got nothing for the likes of you.” The redcap bared its fangs. “Beat it, mortal. Don’t waste his time.”
“Not an option.”
“I’m warning you, boy. Get lost, before I bite your tasty little head off.”
I drew my sword. “My head isn’t the one in danger here.”
“Hold.”
A soft hand touched my elbow, making me pause. I blinked in surprise as Annwyl joined me at the top of the steps and faced the redcap calmly.
“I am Annwyl, former handmaiden to Queen Titania herself,” Annwyl stated in an even, almost regal voice as the redcap eyed her curiously. “And I wish to see Mr. Dust. The mortals are of no consequence—they are here to accompany me. The boy is only doing what he has been trained to do. Let us pass.”
“Ah.” The redcap smirked and gave me a disgusted look. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place?” he growled, opening the door and stepping back for Annwyl. She nodded and swept by without looking at him. I swallowed my astonishment and followed with Kenzie as the redcap’s guttural voice trailed us down the hall. “Keep your pets under control next time, lady. I might’ve eaten your little guard dog on principle.”
“I apologize,” Annwyl said quietly as we walked down the long, narrow hallway on the other side of the door. “I thought that it would be better to try to get through without bloodshed.”
“No arguments here,” I told her. “In fact, I think you should act like that more often. I mean, I don’t want you to go snooty aristocratic faery on me, but you were part of Titania’s circle. You were kind of important.”
“Once,” Annwyl said with a faint smile. “Not anymore.”
The hallway ended at another unmarked black door, and when I opened it, an even longer, thinner alleyway wound off into the darkness.
“Seriously?” Kenzie muttered. “Good thing I’m not claustrophobic. Somehow, I don’t think Keirran is here to buy unicorns and rainbow dust.”
The corridor was just wide enough for us to walk through single file. I drew one of my swords, just in case anything came at us, and motioned the girls forward. Kenzie stepped behind me, taking the back of my jacket like she was afraid we’d get separated, and Annwyl brought up the rear. Carefully, we ventured into the darkness.
Gripping my swords, I followed the faint glow of Annwyl’s hair, past the staring eyes of the Forgotten, until we came to a small black door in the corner. Kenzie carefully turned the knob and cracked it open to peer through.
“What do you see?” Annwyl asked, hovering behind her, while I glared back at the room, looking for any Forgotten coming after us. “Is Keirran in there?”
“I don’t see anything,” Kenzie replied and eased the door open. “Come on, before someone finds us.”
They slipped through the frame, and I had no choice but to follow.
This room was better lit, but I almost wished that it wasn’t. Directly in front of us was an enormous shelf full of things you’d find in a horror film. Knives and wooden baseball bats, hockey masks, clown wigs, eerie dolls, skulls and bones. A scythe leaned against the side of the shelf, huge blade glimmering in the torchlight, and a shriveled, shrunken head dangled by its hair, spinning lazily to face us. Huge, hairy spiders crawled freely over the macabre bric-a-brac, and a large snake lay coiled around a skull on the middle shelf, watching us with beady eyes.