“Better than the alternative,” I told her. “At least you can lie and they’ll believe you. After this, my parents aren’t going to let me out of the house until I’m thirty.”
Meghan gave me a sad smile. “I’ll send someone over to explain what’s happened,” she said, and my nervousness increased. “But Ethan, I can’t let you go home just yet. Until we figure out what’s going on, I have to ask you to stay here, in Mag Tuiredh.”
Chapter Fourteen
Keirran
“Screw that!”
I glared at Meghan, feeling the walls of the Iron Court close in. She watched me sadly, though her stance and the determined look on her face didn’t change.
“No way,” I said. “Forget it. You can’t keep me here. I have to get home! I have to find Todd. And to see if Mom and Dad are all right. You said it yourself—they’re probably going crazy by now.”
“I’ll send someone to explain what’s going on,” Meghan said again, her voice and expression unyielding. “I’ll go myself, if I must. But I can’t send you home yet, Ethan. Not when something out there is trying to kill you.”
“I’m fine!” I protested, somehow feeling like a toddler again, arguing to stay up one more hour. “Dammit, I’m not four anymore, Meghan. I can take care of myself.”
Meghan’s gaze hardened. Striding up to me, she reached out and pulled up my sleeve, revealing the filthy, bloody bandages wrapped around my arm. I jerked back, scowling, but it was too late.
“You’re not as invincible as you think, little brother,” Meghan said firmly. “And I won’t put Mom and Luke through that again. They’ve been through enough. I can at least tell them that you’re safe and that you’ll be home soon. Please understand, I don’t want to do this to you, Ethan. But you can’t leave just yet.”
“Try to stop me,” I snarled, and whirled around intending to stalk out of the throne room. A stupid move, but my anger—at myself, at the fey, the Nevernever, everything—had emerged full force, and I wasn’t thinking rationally. “I’ll find my own way home.”
I didn’t make it out of the room.
A figure melted out of the shadows in the corner, stepping in front of the door, a sharp silhouette against the light. He moved like darkness itself, silent and smooth, dressed all in black, his eyes glittering silver as he blocked my exit. I hadn’t noticed him until now, but as soon as he appeared, my gut contracted with hatred and the blood roared in my ears. A memory flickered to life: a scene of moonlight and shadows, and sitting on the couch with Mom and Meghan as the door slowly creaked open, spilling his shadow across the floor. Of this faery, stepping into the room, his eyes only for my sister. He’d said that it was time; he’d spoken of bargains and promises, and Meghan hadn’t resisted. She’d followed him out the door and into the night, and from then on, nothing was the same.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my shaking hands. How many nights in kali had I imagined fighting this very demon, taking my rattan and smashing in his inhumanly pretty face, or stabbing him repeatedly with my knife? Wild fantasies—I stood no chance against someone like him, even I realized that. And I knew Meghan…cared for him. Loved him, even. But this was the fey responsible for the state of our sad, broken family. If he’d never come to our house that night, Meghan would still be home.
I raised my weapons and spoke through gritted teeth. “Get. The hell. Out of my way, Ash.”
The dark faery didn’t move. “You hate me, I can understand that,” Ash said, his voice low and soothing. “But you’re being irrational. Meghan is only trying to keep you safe.”
Rage and frustration flared, thirteen years of hurt, fear and anger, all bursting to the surface at once. “You know, I don’t remember asking her to!” I seethed, knowing I was way out of line and not caring. “Where was she when I was growing up, when I couldn’t go to sleep because I could hear faeries outside my window? Where was she when they followed me to the school bus, when they chased me into the library and set it on fire, trying to flush me out? Or when I ruined a girl’s life, because the damned fey can’t seem to leave me alone? Where was she then, Ash?”
“Enough.”
I shivered, looking back. Meghan’s voice had changed. It was now steely with authority, and the girl who faced me when I turned around was no longer my sister. The Iron Queen stood there, blue eyes flashing in the aura of power that glowed around her.
“That’s enough,” she said again, quietly, as the magic flickered and died. “Ethan, I’m sorry, but I’ve made my decision. You’ll remain in the Iron Court until we can find out what’s going on. You’ll be a guest in the palace, but please don’t try to leave the grounds.” She exhaled, her shoulders slumping wearily. “Let’s hope we can figure this out quickly.”
“You’ll keep your own brother hostage?” I spat at her. “Against his will?”
“If I must.” Meghan didn’t flinch as she stared at me, solemn and grave. “You can be angry with me all you want, Ethan. I’m not going to lose you.”
I sneered, lowering my weapons. “It’s a little late, sister. You lost me a long time ago, when you walked out on us.”
It was a low blow, meant to hurt her, and I was sorry as soon as I said it. Meghan’s lips pressed together, but other than that, she didn’t respond. I did feel a sharp chill at my back, and realized I was pushing Ash dangerously, as well, speaking to his queen like that. My relation to Meghan was likely the only thing keeping him from drawing his sword and demanding I apologize.
Good, I thought. How does it feel, Ash? Not being able to do anything? Being forced to just watch events unfold around you? Pretty damn frustrating, huh?
The Iron Queen turned back to the throne. “Grimalkin,” she said softly, and the cat raised his head from where he’d been curled up in the corner, blinking sleepily. “Will you be able to take Mackenzie home? You know the way, right?”
Kenzie saw me looking at her and smiled. “Your sister seems nice,” she offered as Grimalkin turned a corner without slowing down or looking back. “Not what I was expecting. I didn’t think she would be our age.”
I shrugged, grateful for the shift of focus, the chance to talk about something other than what had happened in the throne room. “She’s not. Well, technically that’s not right. I guess she is, but…” I struggled to explain. “When I saw her last, several years ago, she looked exactly the same. She doesn’t age. None of them do. If I live to be a hundred years old, she still won’t look a day over sixteen.”
“Oh.” Kenzie blinked. A strange look crossed her face, that same look I had seen back in Grimalkin’s cave; thoughtful and excited, when she should have been disbelieving and terrified. “So, what about us? If we stay in the Nevernever, do we stop aging, too?”
I narrowed my eyes, not liking this sudden interest or the thought of staying here. But Grimalkin, sitting at a pair of doors facing each other across the wide hall, raised his head and yawned.
“Not to the extent that you are immortal,” he explained, eying us lazily. “Humans in the Nevernever do age, but at a much slower rate. Sometimes countless years will pass before they notice any signs of decay. Sometimes they remain infants for centuries, and then one day they simply wake up old and withered. It is different for everyone.” He yawned again and licked a paw. “But, no, human. Mortals cannot live forever. Nothing lives forever, not even the immortal Fey.”