Grimalkin mused, licking his front paw, “what will you do now?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Take Ethan home, I guess. Go back to school. Try to get on with my life.” I thought of Puck, and a lump rose to my throat. School wouldn’t be the same without him. I hoped he was all right, and that I would see him again. I thought of Ash, and wondered if the prince of the Unseelie Court would consent to dinner and a movie.
“Hope springs eternal,” the cat muttered.
“Yeah.” I sighed, and we fell silent again.
“What I have been wondering,” Grimalkin went on, “is how Machina kidnapped your brother in the first place. He used a changeling, yes, but that wasn’t an iron faery. How did he make the switch, if it was not one of his own?”
I thought about it and frowned. “Somebody must’ve helped him,” I guessed.
Grimalkin nodded. “I would imagine so. Which means Machina had normal fey working for him as well, and now that he is gone, they will be none too happy with you.”
I shivered, feeling hope for a normal life slipping rapidly away. I imagined knives on the floor, my hair tied to the bedpost, missing items, and irate faeries lurking in my closet or under my bed, ready to pounce. I’d never be able to sleep again, that much was certain. I wondered how I would protect my family.
A groan came from the sleeping form in the corner. Ethan was waking up.
“Go on, then,” Grimalkin purred as I rose. “Take him home.”
I wanted to say thank-you, but there was no way I was putting myself even more in the cat’s debt. Instead, I went to gather Ethan, and we started across the room, weaving around desks and dark, silent computers. At the door, which was thankfully unlocked, I looked back to the window and the shaft of sunlight, but Grimalkin was no longer there.
The school halls were empty and dark. Puzzled, I made my way down the dingy corridors, clutching Ethan’s hand and wondering where everyone was. Perhaps it was the weekend, but that didn’t explain the dusty floors and lockers, the feeling of complete emptiness as we passed one locked classroom after another. Even on Saturdays, there would be at least one extracurricular class going on. It felt like the school had been empty for weeks.
The front doors were closed and locked, so I had to open a window. After hoisting Ethan up, I wiggled out after him, dropping to the pavement and gazing around. No cars stood in the parking lot, even though it was the middle of the day. The place looked completely deserted.
Ethan gazed around in silence, round blue eyes taking everything in. There was a wariness to him that seemed terribly out of place, like he was older now but his body remained the same. It worried me, and I gently squeezed his hand.
“We’ll be home soon, okay?” I whispered as we started across the parking lot. “Just one short bus ride, and you can see Mom again, and Luke. Are you excited?”
He regarded me solemnly and nodded once. He didn’t smile.
WE LEFT THE SCHOOL CAMPUS, following the sidewalk until we reached the nearest bus stop. Around us, cars sped by, weaving in and out of late-afternoon traffic, and people milled around us. Some older ladies smiled and waved to Ethan, but he paid them no attention. My concern for him knotted my stomach. I tried cheering him up, asking questions, telling him little stories about my adventures, but he just stared at me with those mournful blue eyes and didn’t say a word.
So we stood on the corner, waiting for the bus to come, watching the people surge around us. I saw faeries, slipping through the crowds, entering the little shops lining the street, following humans like stalking wolves. A fey boy with leathery black wings grinned and waved to Ethan from an alley across the street. Ethan shivered, and his fingers tightened on mine.
“Meghan?”
I turned at the sound of my name. A girl had come out of the coffee shop behind us, and was staring at me in amazement and disbelief. I frowned, shifting uncomfortably. She looked familiar, with her long dark hair and cheerleader-thin waist, but I couldn’t remember where I knew her from. Was she a classmate? If so, I think I would have recognized her. She would have been very pretty, if it wasn’t for the huge, distorted nose marring her otherwise perfect face.
And then it hit me.
“Angie,” I whispered, feeling the shock punch me in the stomach. I remembered then: the cheerleader’s mocking laughter, Puck muttering something under his breath, Angie’s horrified screams. Her nose was flat and shiny, with two large nostrils that looked very much like a pig’s. Was this faery vengeance? An awful sense of guilt gnawed at my insides, and I tore my gaze from her face. “What do you want?”
“Oh my God, it is you!” Angie gaped at me, nostrils flaring. I saw Ethan staring unabashed at her nose. “Everyone thought you were dead! There have been police and detectives looking for you. They said you ran away. Where have you been?”
I blinked at her. This was new. Angie had never spoken to me before, except to mock me in front of her friends. “I … How long have I been gone?” I stammered, not knowing what else to say.
“More than three months now,” she replied, and I stared at her. Three months? My trek to the Nevernever hadn’t taken that long, had it? A week or two, at most. But I remembered how my watch stopped while in the wyldwood, and a sick feeling rose to my stomach. Time flowed differently in Faery. No wonder the school was locked and empty; it was summer vacation by now. I really had been gone three months.
Angie was still staring at me curiously, and I floundered for a reply that wouldn’t sound insane. Before I could think of anything, a trio of blondes heading for the coffee shop stopped and gaped at us.
“Oh my God!” one of them screeched. “It’s the swamp slut! She’s back!” Shrill laughter rang out, echoing over the sidewalk, causing several people to stop and stare. “Hey, we heard you got knocked up and your folks shipped you off to some military school. Is that true?”
“Oh my God!” one of her friends yelled, pointing to Ethan. “Look at that! She’s already had her kid!” They collapsed into hysterical giggles, shooting me subtle looks to see my reaction. I gazed at them calmly and smiled. Sorry to disappoint you, I thought, seeing their brows knit with confusion. But after facing homicidal goblins, redcaps, gremlins, knights, and evil faeries, you just aren’t that scary anymore.
But then, to my surprise, Angie scowled and took a step forward. “Knock it off,” she snapped, as I recognized the blond trio from her old cheerleading squad. “She just got back to town. Give her a break already.”
They shot her evil glares. “I’m sorry, Pigface, were you talking to us?” one asked sweetly. “I don’t believe I was speaking to you at all. Why don’t you go home with the little swamp bitch? I’m sure she can find a place for you on the farm.”
“She can’t understand you,” another piped up. “You have to speak her language. Like this.” She broke into a chorus of oinks and squeals, and the other two took up the cry. The street echoed with high-pitched grunts, and Angie’s face flushed crimson.
I stood there, stunned. It was so weird, seeing the most popular girl in school standing in my shoes. I should’ve been happy; the perfect cheerleader was finally getting a taste of her own medicine. But my instincts also said this treatment wasn’t new. It started the
