Ash sighed, and to my extreme shock, pulled Keirran forward so that their foreheads were touching. “I do understand,” the dark faery murmured, and Keirran squeezed his eyes shut. “More than you know. But this wasn’t the way, Keirran. You should have come to us. We would have worked something out. But you had to go do everything alone, and now matters are even worse.”
Keirran slumped, clenching his fists, but didn’t say anything. Ash released him and stepped away, casting a somber look at the mountain of rubble that was once the spirit.
“I have to go to Mab,” he muttered as Puck appeared beside him, looking grave. “See if I can convince her not to declare war on Summer or Iron. Keirran—” he stabbed a terrifying glare at the Iron Prince “—go home. Right now. You, too, Ethan,” he added, glancing at me. “I’m sure your parents are worried about you.”
“No,” Keirran whispered, and Ash’s icy stare fixed on him. He swallowed, but remained firm. “Not yet. I have to go back to Arcadia, make sure Titania lets Annwyl return to court. Please.” He met Ash’s gaze, imploring. “Let me do this one final thing. I’ll go home after that, I promise. And I’ll never leave Mag Tuiredh again.”
“I’ll take them back to Arcadia, ice-boy,” Puck added, his voice uncharacteristically grim. “And I’ll send him home afterward. Both of them.”
Ash stared at Keirran a moment longer, then sighed. “Fine. I’ll allow it, this once. But you had better be waiting for me when I return to Mag Tuiredh, Keirran. We are going to have a long talk. Goodfellow...” He glanced at Puck. “Inform Oberon we’ll be contacting him soon, as well. He’ll want to know about this.”
Puck nodded. Ash spared one last look at me and Keirran, his gaze lingering on the prince. Then he whirled away in a swirl of black, stalked into the shadows and was gone.
Kenzie. As soon as Ash left, I spun toward the place I’d left the girl...and nearly ran into her, coming up behind me.
“Oof.” She staggered back a pace, but I caught her and swept her into my arms, holding her tight. She hugged me back fiercely. Razor peeked out of her hair and grinned at me, but I ignored him.
“Hey, you,” she whispered into my shirt. “Looks like you managed to slay the dragon.”
“Yeah,” I muttered, not wanting to say how much I regretted it. That destroying something so ancient and primal, something that had kept a part of Faery alive, seemed wrong. Not to mention we might’ve sparked a war. Pulling away, I gazed at the mountain of rubble that was once an ice spirit and grimaced. “We should’ve never come here.”
“Was that Keirran’s dad that just left?” Kenzie went on, looking in the direction Ash disappeared. I nodded. “Where’s he going in such a hurry?”
“Oh, just to visit Mab.” Puck sighed, shaking his head as he walked past. “You know, catch up, have some cookies, maybe prevent her from declaring all-out war on the other courts. The usual.” He gave me and Keirran an unreadable look and rolled his eyes. “You two. I swear, this is so familiar. What’s that human saying about having a kid that turns out to be just like you?” He snorted. “Well, come on, then. Let’s get you back to Arcadia so you can see Titania, and we can put an end to this insanity.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
TITANIA’S DECISION
When we came out of the caves, what Ash had been talking about became abundantly and sickeningly clear.
The Frozen Wood was disappearing. The ice that had coated every leaf, tree, twig and branch was nearly gone, and the snow was melting away, showing patches of bare earth beneath. Water dripped from the branches overhead, turning the ground slushy, and mud sucked at our feet as we walked. Dead animals lay scattered about the wood, some still coated in frozen crystal, but many sprawled limply in the snow. Without the ice keeping them in a state of eternal preservation, they looked dirty and ugly, as did the once-pristine woods around them.
“Mab is going to be pissed,” Puck remarked, frowning at the devastation around us. “I hope ice-boy catches her on a good day.”
I helped do this, I thought, wrenching my gaze from a scattering of dead birds around the trunk of a tree. My insides turned, making me feel sick. If Mab declares war on Arcadia or Meghan’s court, it will be partly my fault.
I glanced at Keirran, wondering if he felt as guilty and horrified as I did. His expression was blank, unreadable, even as he faced the fallout of our actions, and I wanted to kick him.
Last time, Keirran. I narrowed my eyes, glaring at the back of his head. This is the last time you can expect help from me. I know you want to save Annwyl, but this has gone way too far. After this, after Annwyl is home, we’re done. Puck was right about you—you’re trouble, and I’m not going to get dragged into any more messes because of you.
“Hey.” Kenzie’s fingers brushed my arm, interrupting my dark thoughts. “I know that look,” she said, peering up at me. “That’s not your happy face, tough guy. If your eyes could shoot laser beams, Keirran’s head would explode. What are you thinking?”
“Look around us,” I whispered and gestured to the body of a stag we’d passed earlier. It had fallen into the mud, its legs rising stiffly into the air. “We did this. Keirran and I are responsible for this. We killed something we shouldn’t have, and now look at what’s happened.”
“So...what? You’re blaming him as well as yourself?”
“Mostly him,” I muttered, lowering my voice. “But yeah. Myself, too.”
Kenzie shook her head. “You and your guilt issues.” She sighed. “Not everything that happens is your fault, Ethan. Or anyone’s fault. Just because the fey can see you doesn’t mean the trouble they cause is on your head.”
“This is different,” I told her. “I wasn’t forced to do anything. This was a choice.”
“Yes, it was,” Kenzie agreed solemnly. “You chose to help a friend. You chose to go along with this request because it was the only way to save his life. To save both their lives.”
“It could start a war.”
“There’s nothing we can do about that now.” Kenzie’s voice was relentlessly pragmatic. “You can blame and point fingers and brood on what happened, but it’s already in the past, and it won’t help anything.” Her gaze lingered on a dead fox, a shocking red against a patch of snow, and her lip trembled. Razor peeked out of her hair and wrinkled his nose. “It’s over, and we’ll just have to deal with whatever comes of it.” I started to protest, but she cut me off. “Would you have done anything differently if you knew what would happen? Would you have let Keirran go by himself?”
I slumped. “No.”
“Then stop beating yourself up,” Kenzie said gently. “And let’s just get through this as best we can. We’re not out of here yet.”
Sometime later, but far earlier than I would’ve liked, we stood at the edge of the Seelie throne room, peering through the bramble tunnel at the Summer Queen’s court.
“Well,” Puck said cheerfully, “here we are. And Titania looks like she’s in a good mood today—that’s always a bad sign.” He glanced at Keirran, gazing into the throne room with dark, hooded eyes. “Think I’ll wait out here. Having me around might be too much of a distraction for our lovely queen, seeing how fond she is of me.” He snickered. “I’ll be out here if things get too hairy, or if you need someone turned into a hedgehog.”
His voice was sarcastic, but Keirran only nodded, his mind clearly on something else. He began walking toward the thrones, leaving Kenzie and I scrambling to catch up. I glanced over my shoulder once to see Puck, his eyes dark and troubled, ease back into the thorns until he was lost from view.
“Back again?” Titania regarded us disdainfully as we stopped at the foot of her throne. “That didn’t take long. And here I was hoping at least one of you would die or become frozen for eternity. How very disappointing.”
“We’ve done what you asked,” Keirran said, ignoring that last part. “The spirit of the Frozen Wood is dead. Now please rescind Annwyl’s banishment and let her return to court.”
Titania regarded us for a long moment. Then her lips curled up in a pleased smile.
“No,” she stated clearly. “I don’t think I will.”
I felt the bottom drop out of my stomach. Keirran stared at the Summer Queen in silence, but the air around him was turning cold.
“What the hell?” Kenzie burst out, unable to hold herself back. “You said that if we killed this spirit thing, you’d let Annwyl come back.”
“No, my dear.” Titania settled back on her throne, smiling triumphantly. “I said I would consider it. And I have. And the answer is still no.”
“You can’t be serious! She’ll die!”
Titania shrugged. “That is no concern of mine. All fey must Fade eventually. It is only a matter of when.” She looked over at Keirran, still standing motionless beside me, and smiled. “I would think you’d be grateful, Prince. After all, the Summer girl isn’t who you think she is. Why do you think she was at the river the day you met?” Her smile grew wider, more evil. “Because I told her to be there. I told her to seek you out, to seduce you, win your affections. She was only at those ‘secret’ rendezvous points because I ordered it. It would have been vastly amusing to have the son of the Iron Queen under my thumb, willing to do anything for my loyal little handmaiden.” She chuckled, before her lips curled in distaste and she gestured sharply in contempt. “Of course, the weak-minded girl went and fell in love for real and refused to betray you when the time came. So, naturally, I exiled her for her treason. That is the real reason Annwyl has been banished from the Summer Court, Prince. And that is the reason I will never take her back.”
