then, Keirran had stabbed me. And I had died.
“My healers tell me there was powerful magic surrounding that amulet,” Meghan continued, her tone unnaturally calm. “And when you...died, it shattered. I thought I’d lost you.” Her voice shook, but she composed herself again. “But just as we stopped trying to revive you, your heart started beating. Very, very slowly, and we couldn’t wake you up, but you were alive.” She looked at the broken amulet in my palm, wonder and relief laced through her voice. “Whatever this was, it probably saved your life.”
I stared at the glittering pieces, not knowing what to feel. My emotions were so jumbled up, it was hard to focus on just one. It’s not every day your older sister informs you that you were dead, even if it was for just a few minutes. And that you had been killed, stabbed in the back, by your own family member.
Keirran.
I forced my thoughts away from my traitor nephew. “Mom and Dad?” I asked hoarsely, glancing at Meghan. “Do they know?”
A pained look crossed her face. “They’ve been told where you are,” she replied. “They know you’re with me, in the Nevernever. I told them something happened to you, and that you have to stay here for a while, for your own protection.” She took a shaky breath. “I couldn’t tell them the truth, not yet. It would’ve killed Mom. I was hoping you would wake up before I had to explain what really happened. Why I couldn’t send you home.”
And then, in that dark bedroom, with the shards of the amulet that saved my life glittering between us, Meghan broke down. The mask of the Iron Queen disappeared, and she covered her face with one hand. Her shoulders trembled, and short, quiet sobs escaped her hunched frame, as my heart and stomach twisted themselves into a painful knot. Meghan had always been the strong one; before she’d disappeared into Faery, I could always look to her for everything. True, I was just a little kid back then and worshiped the ground my older sister walked on, but whenever I was tormented by nightmares or terrors or monsters only I could see, Meghan was the one I went to. She was the one who could make me feel safe. Even now, years later, I still couldn’t stand the sight of her unhappy. After she left, I’d spent the greater part of my life resenting her, angry that she’d chosen Them over family and hating the world that had taken her away. But even through all that, I’d still missed my sister like crazy and wished she could come home.
“Hey.” Not knowing what else to do, I leaned over, ignoring the brief moment of vertigo, and took her hand. Her fingers wrapped around mine and squeezed tight, as if to convince her that I was still there. Still alive. “I’m all right,” I told her. “Meghan, it’s okay. I’m still here. I’m not going to die anytime soon.”
“No,” she whispered back. “It’s not okay. It hasn’t been for a while now.” She took a breath, trying to compose herself, though tears continued to stream through her fingers. “I’m sorry, Ethan,” she went on. “I’m so sorry. I wanted to protect you from all of this. I tried so hard to stop it, distancing myself, never visiting, keeping you and K-Keirran apart...” Her voice broke on Keirran’s name, and I felt a rush of grief, anger, guilt and despair surge between us, so strong it made my skin prickle. “I’ve kept so many secrets, hurt so many people, to keep this from happening. Now Keirran is out there, and you almost died...” She shook her head, her grip tightening almost painfully around my fingers. “I’m sorry,” she whispered again. “This is my fault. I knew this was coming. I should have kept a better eye on you both, but I never thought Keirran would... That he was capable of...”
A shudder racked her frame, and she gave another quiet sob. Abruptly, I remembered that, that night, right after Keirran had stabbed me and I had passed out, I’d heard the sound of hoofbeats getting closer. Had that been Meghan and her knights, come to save me? Had she seen Keirran, her only son, run a sword through my body and leave me to die?
And then, I remembered something else.
“That was the prophecy,” I said, feeling like an idiot for not seeing it, for never guessing it. Of course, how could I? How could I have guessed that Keirran, my nephew, and, in all honesty, one of my only friends, would stab me in the back? “The one that had everyone so worried. You, Ash, Puck, even Titania. You all nearly had a heart attack when you saw me and Keirran together. Because of the prophecy.”
Meghan nodded wearily. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you found out,” she said, wiping her eyes as she sat up straighter, facing me. “Who told you?”
“The Oracle,” I said, remembering the dusty old hag with empty holes for eyes, the stabbing pain as she’d touched my head and seemed to sink her talons right into my brain. I remembered the vision flashing through my head: Keirran, covered in blood and with sword in hand, standing over my lifeless body. “Right before she died,” I added, seeing Meghan’s eyes widen. “She was killed by the Forgotten.”
A pained look crossed Meghan’s face. “So, the rumors were true,” she said, almost to herself. “I’m sorry to hear it. We didn’t part on the best terms, but I’ll always be grateful for the help she gave.” She closed her eyes briefly in a moment of silence for the ancient faery, then fixed them on me again. “Did she tell you anything else?” she asked. “What the prophecy meant? How it would come about, and your part in it?”
I shook my head. “She didn’t have time to explain before the Forgotten killed her,” I replied. “All I saw was me on the ground, and Keirran standing there. I mean, I knew I was dead, that she was showing me my death...” I shivered, and I saw Meghan’s jaw tighten, too. “It looked like something had killed me. But, I never thought...that it would be Keirran.”
Anger flared once more, dissolving the last of the shock, and I clenched my fist in the blankets. “But you knew about it,” I told Meghan, and it was hard not to make it sound like an accusation. My sister regarded me sadly as I tried to control my emotions, the feeling of betrayal from all sides. “You knew about the prophecy,” I said again. “That’s why you kept Keirran and me apart. That’s why you never came back.” She didn’t answer, and I leaned forward, determined to get to the bottom of this, once and for all. “How long did you know?”
“Since before Keirran was born,” Meghan replied, her gaze going distant. “The Oracle came to me not long after I became the Iron Queen and told me that my firstborn child would bring nothing but grief. That Keirran was destined to either unite the courts or destroy them.” She looked down at our hands, still held together. “And that the catalyst...was your death, Ethan. If Keirran killed you, that would be the trigger, the start of the destruction.”
I stared at her in disbelief. Before Keirran was even born. That was years of knowing, years of that dark cloud hanging over her head. She had carried the knowledge that her son might do something horrible for his entire life.
“And now, it’s happened,” Meghan said, her voice flat. “The prophecy has come to pass. Keirran has started something he can never undo, and I must respond, as queen of this land.”
I felt a cold lump settle in my gut, and I swallowed the dryness in my throat. “What’s going on?” I asked, my voice coming out faint. I was almost afraid of the answer. “Where is Keirran, anyway?”
“No one has seen him since that night,” Meghan replied. “But we have reason to believe he is with the Forgotten.”
The Forgotten. The fey who were slowly fading from existence because no one remembered them anymore. The blood froze in my veins. If I had “died,” then the Veil—the thing that had kept Faery hidden and invisible to humans—was gone. Keirran believed that destroying it would save
