I kept quiet, chewing on granola. You couldn’t fault her reasoning, though she was still far more pragmatic and logical than I’d expected. Still, something about her reaction didn’t feel right. Maybe it was her complete lack of fear and skepticism, as if she desperately wanted to believe that this was really happening. As if she didn’t care at all about leaving what was real and sane and normal behind.
“Anyway,” Kenzie went on, looking back at me, “you’ve been here before, right? From the way that cat was talking to you, it was like you knew each other.”
I shrugged. “Yeah,” I said, staring at the ground between my knees. Memories—the bad memories I tried so hard to forget—crowded in. Fangs and claws, poking at me. Glowing eyes and shrieking, high-pitched laughter. Lying in utter darkness, the stench of rust and iron clogging my nose, waiting for my sister to come. “But it was a long time ago,” I muttered, shoving those thoughts away, locking them in the farthest corner of my mind. “I barely remember it.”
“How long have you been able to see…um…faeries?”
I flicked a glance at her. She sat with her knees drawn to her chest, leaning against a rock, watching me gravely. The fluorescent toadstools on the walls gave off a black light effect, making the blue in her hair glow neon bright. I caught myself staring and looked down at the floor again.
“All my life.” I hunched a little more. “I can’t remember a time when I couldn’t see them, when I didn’t know they were there.”
“Can your parents—?”
“No.” It came out a bit sharper than I’d intended. “No one in my family can see them. Just me.”
Except my sister, of course. But I didn’t want to talk about her.
“Hmm.” Kenzie rested her chin on her knees. “Well, this explains a lot about you. The secrecy, the paranoia, the weirdness at the tournament.” My face heated, but Kenzie didn’t seem to notice. “So how many…faeries…are out there in the real world?”
“Sure you want to know?” I challenged, smiling bitterly. “You might end up like me, mean and paranoid, staring at corners and out windows for things that aren’t there. There’s a reason no one ever talks about the fey, and not just because it draws their attention. Because normal people, the ones who can’t see Them, will label you weird or crazy or freak, and will either treat you like you have the plague or will want to throw you in a cell.”
“I never thought of you like that,” Kenzie said softly.
Anger burned suddenly. At myself, for dragging her into this. At Kenzie, for being too damn stubborn to leave me alone, for refusing to stay away and not hate me like any normal, sane person would. And at myself, again, for allowing her to get this close, for wanting to be near someone. I had let down my guard the tiniest bit, and now look where we were.
“Well, maybe you should have,” I said, standing and glaring down at her. “Because now you’re stuck here with me. And I really don’t know if we’re going to make it out of here alive.”
“Where are you going?” Kenzie asked as I stalked away toward the mouth of the cave. Ignoring her, hoping she wouldn’t come after me, I walked to the entrance, just a foot or so from the edge of the cave, so I could see Faery for myself.
Peering into the darkness, I shivered. The wyldwood stretched away before me, tangled and ominous in the shadows. I couldn’t see the sky through the canopy of leaves and branches, but I could see glimmers of movement far, far above, lights or creatures floating through the trees.
“Going somewhere?” came a voice above my head. Grimalkin sat in a tangle of roots that curled lazily from the ceiling. His huge eyes seemed to hover in the darkness.
“No,” I muttered, giving him a cautious look. Grimalkin had helped my sister in the past, but I didn’t know him well, and he was still fey. Faeries never did anything for free; his agreeing to guide us through the wyldwood into the Iron Realm was just part of a deal.
“Good. I would hate to have you eaten before we even started,” he purred, raking his claws across the wood. “You appear to have the same recklessness as your sister, always rushing into things without thinking them through.”
“Don’t compare me to Meghan,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “I’m not like her.”
“Indeed. She, at least, had a pleasant personality.”
“I’m not here to make friends.” The cat was bugging the hell out of me, but I refused to let it show. “This isn’t a reunion. I just want to get to the Iron Realm, talk to Meghan and go home.” Todd is still out there, counting on me.
The cat stretched lazily on the branch. “Desire what you will, human,” he said with a knowing, half-lidded stare. “With your family, I have found that it is never as easy as that.”
Chapter Eleven
Into the Wyldwood
I didn’t think I’d sleep, but I must’ve dozed off, because the next thing I knew, I was waking up on the sandy floor of the cave, and my shoulder was killing me. Pulling out the aspirin, I popped another three pills, crunched them down with a grimace and looked around for Kenzie and Grimalkin.
Unsurprisingly, the cat was nowhere to be seen, but a faint gray light was seeping in from the cave mouth, and the glowing fungi along the walls had dimmed, looking like ordinary toadstools now. I wondered how much time had passed, if a year had already flown by in the mortal world and my parents had given up all hope of ever seeing me again.
Grimacing, I struggled upright, cursing myself for falling asleep. Anything could’ve happened while I’d been out: something could’ve snuck up on me, stolen my bag, convinced Kenzie to follow it down a dark tunnel. Where was she, anyway? She didn’t know about Faery, how dangerous it could be. She was far too trusting, and anything in this world could grab her, chew her up and spit her out again.
I spun, searching frantically, until I saw her sitting cross-legged near the entrance.
Talking to Grimalkin.
She started to walk away but paused very briefly, her fingers touching my shoulder as she passed. “Also…thanks for saving my life.”
I sat there a moment, listening to Kenzie’s footsteps pad quietly over the sand. What just happened here? Kenzie had nothing to apologize for. It wasn’t her fault we were here, stuck in the Nevernever for who knew how long, that a bunch of ghostly, homicidal faeries were after us. Her life had been fairly normal before I came along. If anything, she should hate me for dragging her into this mess. I certainly hated myself.
My shoulder still prickled where she’d touched it.
An extremely loud yawn came from the mouth of the cave. “Are we going to start this expedition sometime in the next century?” Grimalkin called, golden eyes blinking in annoyance. “For someone who is in such a hurry to leave, you certainly are taking your time.”
I rose, snatched my rattan sticks and water from the floor, and walked toward the cave entrance, leaving the bag behind. It, along with my dirty clothes and equipment, would have to stay in Faery. Hopefully it wouldn’t stink up Grimalkin’s home too badly.