The Lost Prince

The half-breed cringed, looking miserable but resigned. Like he was used to this kind of treatment.

I sighed. And proceeded to do something stupid.

“Well, I’m so glad this place has the same gorilla-faced morons as my old school,” I said, not moving from where I stood. They whirled on me, eyes widening, and I smirked. “What’s the matter, Daddy cut off your allowance this month, so you have to beat it out of the losers and freaks? Does practice not give you enough manhandling time?”

“Who the hell are you?” The smaller jock, Brian, took a menacing step forward, getting in my face. I gazed back at him, still smirking. “This your boyfriend, then?” He raised his voice. “You got a death wish, fag?”

Now, of course, we were beginning to attract attention. Students who had been averting their eyes and pretending not to see the trio against the locker began to hover, as if sensing violence on the air. Murmurs of “Fight” rippled through the crowd, gaining speed, until it felt as if the entire school was watching this little drama play out in the middle of the hall. The boy they’d been picking on, the half-breed, gave me a fearful, apologetic look and scurried off, vanishing into the crowd. You’re welcome, I thought, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. Well, I had stepped into this pile of crap—I might as well go all out.

“New kid,” grunted Brian’s companion, stepping away from the lockers, looming behind the other. “The one from Southside.”

“Oh, yeah.” Brian glanced at his friend, then back at me. His lip curled in disdain. “You’re that kid who shanked his cellmate in juvie,” he continued, raising his voice for the benefit of the crowd. “After setting fire to the school and pulling a knife on a teacher.”

I raised an eyebrow. Really? That’s a new one.

Scandalized gasps and murmurs went through the student body, gaining speed like wildfire. This would be all over school tomorrow. I wondered how many more crimes I could add to my already lengthy imaginary list.

“You think you’re tough, fag?” Bolstered by the mob, Brian stepped closer, crowding me, an evil smile on his face. “So you’re an arsonist and a criminal, big deal. You think I’m scared of you?”

At least one more.

I straightened, going toe-to-toe with my opponent. “Arsonist, huh?” I said, matching his sneer with my own. “And here I thought you were as stupid as you look. Did you learn that big word in English today?”

His face contorted, and he swung at me. We were extremely close, so it was a nasty right hook, coming straight at my jaw. I ducked beneath it and shoved his arm as the fist went by, pushing him into the wall. Howls and cheers rose around us as Brian spun furiously and swung at me a second time. I twisted away, keeping my fists close to my cheeks, boxer style, to defend myself.

“Enough!”

Teachers descended from nowhere, pulling us apart. Brian swore and fought to get to me, trying to shove past the teacher, but I let myself be pulled off to the side. The one who grabbed me kept a tight hold of my collar, as if I might break free and throw a punch at him.

“Principal’s office, Kingston,” ordered the teacher, steering Brian down the hall. “Get moving.” He glared back at me. “You, too, new kid. And you better pray you don’t have a knife hidden somewhere on you, or you’ll be suspended before you can blink.”

As they dragged me off to the principal’s office, I saw the half-faery watching me from the crowd. His orange eyes, solemn and grim, never left mine, until I was pulled around a corner and lost from view.

CHAPTER TWO

HALF-BREED

I slumped in the chair in the principal’s office, arms crossed, waiting for the man across the desk to notice us. The gold sign on the mahogany surface read Richard S. Hill, Principal, though the sign’s owner hadn’t given us more than a glance when we were brought in. He sat with his eyes glued to the computer screen, a small, balding man with a beaky nose and razor-thin eyebrows, lowered into a frown. His mouth pursed as he scanned the screen, making us wait.

After a minute or two, the jock in the chair next to mine blew out an impatient sigh.

“So, uh, do you need me anymore?” he asked, leaning forward as if preparing to stand. “I can go now, right?”

“Kingston,” the principal said, finally glancing up. He blinked at Brian, then frowned again. “You have a big game this weekend, don’t you? Yes, you can go. Just don’t get into any more trouble. I don’t want to hear about fights in the hallways, understand?”

“Sure, Mr. Hill.” Brian stood, gave me a triumphant sneer, and swaggered out of the office.

Oh, that’s fair. Jock-boy was the one who threw the first punch, but we don’t want to jeopardize the team’s chance of winning the game, do we? I waited for the principal to notice me, but he had gone back to reading whatever was on the computer. Leaning back, I crossed my legs and gazed longingly out the door. The ticking of the clock filled the small room, and students stopped to stare at me through the window on the door before moving on.

“You’ve quite the file, Mr. Chase,” Hill finally said without looking up.

I suppressed a wince.

“Fighting, truancy, hidden weapons, arson.” He pushed back his chair, and those hard black eyes finally settled on me. “Is there anything you’d like to add? Like assaulting the school’s star quarterback on your very first day? Mr. Kingston’s father is part of the school board, in case you did not realize.”

“I didn’t start that fight,” I muttered. “He was the one who swung at me.”

“Oh? You were just minding your own business, then?” The principal’s sallow lips curled in a faint smile. “He swung at you out of nowhere?”

I met his gaze. “He and his football buddy were about to stick some kid’s head down a toilet. I stepped in before they could. Jock-boy didn’t appreciate me ruining his fun, so he tried smashing my face in.” I shrugged. “Sorry if I like my face as it is.”

“Your attitude does you no credit, Mr. Chase,” Hill said, frowning at me. “And you should have gotten a teacher to take care of it. You’re on very thin ice as it is.” He folded pale, spiderlike hands on his desk and leaned forward. “Since it is your first day here, I’ll let you go with a warning this time. But I will be watching you, Mr. Chase. Step out of line again, and I won’t be so lenient. Do you understand?”

I shrugged. “Whatever.”

His eyes glinted. “Do you think you’re special, Mr. Chase?” A note of contempt had entered his voice now. “Do you think you’re the only ‘troubled youth’ to sit in this office? I’ve seen your kind before, and they all go the same way—straight to prison, or the streets, or dead in the gutter somewhere. If that’s the path you want, then, by all means, keep going down this road. Drop out. Get a dead-end job somewhere. But don’t waste this school’s time trying to educate you. And don’t drag those who are going somewhere down with you.” He jerked his head at the door. “Now get out of my office. And don’t let me see you here again.”

Fuming, I pulled myself upright and slid out the door.

The hallways were empty; everyone was back in their classrooms, well into postlunch stupor, counting down the minutes to the final bell. For a moment, I considered going home, leaving this sorry excuse of a new school and a clean start, and just accepting the fact that I would never fit in and be normal. No one would ever give me the chance.

But I couldn’t go home, because Mom would be there. She wouldn’t say anything, but she would look at me with that sad, guilty, disappointed expression, because she wanted so badly for me to succeed, to be normal. She was hoping that this time, things would work out. If I went home early, no matter the reason, Mom would tell me I could try again tomorrow, and then she would probably lock herself in her room and cry a little.

I couldn’t face that. It would be worse than the lecture Dad would give me if he found out I skipped class. Plus, he’d been very fond of groundings lately, and I didn’t want to risk another one.

It’s just a couple more hours, I told myself and reluctantly started back to class, which would be the middle of trig by now, joy of joys. Why did every curriculum decide to teach math right after lunch when everyone was half-asleep? You can survive a couple more hours. What else can happen, anyway?

I should’ve known better.

As I turned a corner, I got that cold, prickly sensation on the back of my neck, the one that always told me I was being watched. Normally, I would’ve ignored it, but right then, I was angry and less focused than usual. I turned, glancing behind me.

The half-breed stood at the end of the hall next to the bathroom entrance, watching me in the frame. His eyes glowed orange, and the tips of his furry ears twitched in my direction.

Something hovered beside him, something small and humanoid, with buzzing dragonfly wings and dark green skin. It blinked huge black eyes at me, bared its teeth in a razor grin, then zipped into the air, flying up toward the ceiling tiles.

Before I could stop myself, my gaze followed it. The piskie blinked, startled, and I realized my slip-up.

Furious, I wrenched my stare down, but it was too late. Dammit. Stupid, stupid mistake, Ethan. The half-breed’s eyes widened as he stared from me to the piskie, mouth gaping open. He knew. He knew I could see Them.

And now, They were aware, as well.

I managed to avoid the half-breed by going to class. When the last bell rang, I snatched up my backpack and hurried out the door, keeping my head down and hoping for a quick escape.

Unfortunately, he trailed me to the parking lot.

“Hey,” he said, falling into step beside me as we crossed the lot. I ignored him and continued on, keeping my gaze straight ahead. He trotted doggedly to keep up. “Listen, I wanted to thank you. For what you did back there. Thanks for stepping in, I owe you.” He paused, as if expecting me to say something. When I didn’t, he added, “I’m Todd, by the way.”

“Whatever,” I muttered, not looking directly at him. He frowned as if taken aback by the reaction, and I kept my expression blank and unfriendly. Just because I rescued you from the jock and his goon doesn’t mean we’re buds now. I saw your little friend. You’re playing with fire, and I want nothing to do with it. Go away. Todd hesitated, then followed me in silence for a few steps, but he didn’t leave.

“Uh, so,” he continued, lowering his voice as we approached the end of the lot. I had parked my truck as far as I could from the Mustangs and Camaros of my fellow students, wanting it to avoid notice, as well. “When did you become able to see Them?”

My gut twisted. At least he didn’t say faeries or the fey, because voicing their name out loud was a surefire way to attract their attention. Whether that was deliberate or ignorant on his part, I wasn’t sure. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said coolly.

“Yes, you do!” He stepped in front of me, brow furrowed, and I had to stop. “You know what I am,” he insisted, all subtlety gone. There was a hint of desperation in his eyes as he leaned forward, pleading. “I saw you, and Thistle caught you looking, too. You can see Them, and you can see what I really look like. So don’t play dumb, okay? I know. We both do.”

All right, this kid was pissing me off. Worse, the more I talked to him, the more attention I would draw from Them. His little “friends” were probably watching us right now, and that scared me. Whatever this half-breed wanted from me, it needed to end.

I sneered at him, my voice ugly. “Wow, you are a freak. No wonder Kingston picks on you. Did you not take your happy pills this morning?” Anger and betrayal flashed in Todd’s orange eyes, making me feel like an ass, but I kept my voice mocking. “Yeah, I’d love to stay and chat with you and your imaginary friends, but I have real-world things to do. Why don’t you go see if you can find a unicorn or something?”

His face darkened even more. I shoved past him and continued on, hoping he wouldn’t follow. This time, he did not. But I hadn’t gone three steps when his next words stopped me in my tracks.

“Thistle knows about your sister.”

I froze, every muscle in my body coiling tight as my stomach turned inside out.

“Yeah, I thought you might be interested in that.” Todd’s voice held a note of quiet triumph. “She’s seen her, in the Nevernever. Meghan Chase, the Iron Queen—”

I spun and grabbed the front of his shirt, jerking him forward off his feet. “Who else knows?” I hissed as Todd cringed, flattening his ears. “Who else has heard of me? Who knows I’m here?”

“I don’t know!” Todd held up his hands, and short claws flashed in the sunlight. “Thistle is hard to understand sometimes, ya know? All she said was that she knew who you were—the brother of the Iron Queen.”

“If you tell anyone …” I balled my fist, resisting the urge to shake him. “If you tell any of Them, I swear—”

“I won’t!” Todd cried, and I realized then how I must have looked, teeth bared, eyes wild and crazy. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to calm down. Todd relaxed, shaking his head. “Jeez, take it easy, man. So They know who you are—it’s not the end of the world.”

I sneered and shoved him backward. “You must be very sheltered, then.”

“I was adopted,” Todd shot back, catching himself. “How easy do you think it’s been, pretending to be human when my own parents don’t know what I am? No one here gets me, no one has any idea what I can do. They keep stepping on me, and I keep pushing back.”

“So you did put a snake in Kingston’s car.” I shook my head in disgust. “I should’ve let him stick your head down a toilet this afternoon.”

Todd sniffed and straightened the front of his shirt. “Kingston’s a dick,” he said, as if that justified everything. “He thinks he owns the school and has the teachers and the principal in his pocket. He believes he’s untouchable.” He smirked, orange eyes glittering. “Sometimes I like to remind him that he’s not.”

I sighed. Well, it serves you right, Ethan. This is what happens when you get involved with Them. Even the half-fey can’t keep themselves from pranking humans every chance they get.

“The Invisible Folk are the only ones who understand me,” Todd went on, as if trying to convince me. “They know what I’m going through. They’re only too happy to help.” His smirk grew wider, more threatening. “In fact, Thistle and her friends are making that jock’s life very unpleasant right now.”

A chill slid up my back. “What did you promise them?”

He blinked. “What?”

“They never do anything for free.” I took a step forward, and he shrank back. “What did you promise them? What did they take?”

“What does it matter?” The half-breed shrugged. “The jerk had it coming. Besides, how much harm can two piskies and a boggart do?”

I closed my eyes. Oh, man, you have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into. “Listen,” I said, opening my eyes, “whatever bargains you’ve made, whatever contracts you’ve agreed to, stop. You can’t trust them. They’ll use you, because it’s their nature. It’s what they do.” Todd raised a disbelieving eyebrow, and I scrubbed my scalp at his ignorance. How had he survived this long and not learned anything? “Never make a contract with Them. That’s the first and most important rule. It doesn’t ever go how you imagine, and once you’ve agreed to something, you’re stuck. You can’t ever get out of it, no matter what they ask for in return.”

Todd still looked unconvinced. “Who made you the expert on all things faery?” he challenged, and I winced as he finally said the word. “You’re human—you don’t understand what it’s like. So I made a few deals, promised a few things. What’s that to you?”

“Nothing.” I stepped back. “Just don’t drag me into whatever mess you’re creating. I want nothing to do with Them, or you, got it? I’d be happy if I never saw them again.” And without waiting for an answer, I turned, opened my car door, and slammed it shut behind me. Gunning the engine, I squealed out of the parking lot, ignoring the half-breed’s desolate figure as he grew smaller and smaller in my rearview mirror.

“How was school?” Mom asked as I banged through the screen door and tossed my backpack on the table.

“Fine,” I mumbled, making a beeline for the fridge. She stepped out of the way with a sigh, knowing it was useless to talk to me when I was starving. I found the leftover pizza from last night and shoved two slices in the microwave while chewing on a cold third. Thirty seconds later, I was about to take my plate up to my room when Mom stepped in front of me.

“I got a call from the principal’s office this afternoon.”

My shoulders sank. “Yeah?”

Mom gestured firmly to the table, and I slumped into one of the chairs, my appetite gone. She sat down across from me, her eyes hooded and troubled. “Anything you want to tell me?”

I rubbed my eyes. No use trying to hide it, she probably already knew—or at least she knew what Hill told her. “I got into a fight.”

“Oh, Ethan.” The disappointment in her voice stabbed me like tiny needles. “On your first day?”

It wasn’t my fault, I wanted to say. But I’d used that excuse so many times before, it seemed empty. Any excuse seemed empty now. I just shrugged and slouched farther in my seat, not meeting her eyes.

“Was it … was it Them?”

That shocked me. Mom almost never spoke of the fey, for probably the same reasons as me; she thought it might attract their attention. She would rather close her eyes and pretend they didn’t exist, that they weren’t still out there, watching us. It was one of the reasons I never talked openly to her about my problems. It just made her too frightened.

I hesitated, wondering if I should tell her about the half-breed and his invisible friends, lurking in the halls. But if Mom found out about them, she might pull me out of school. And as much as I hated going to class, I did not want to go through the whole “starting over” thing one more time.

“No,” I said, fiddling with the edge of my plate. “Just these two dicks that needed a lesson in manners.”

Mom gave one of her frustrated, disapproving groans. “Ethan,” she said in a sharper voice. “It’s not your place. We’ve gone over this.”

“I know.”

“If you keep this up, you’ll be kicked out again. And I don’t know where we can send you after that. I don’t know …” Mom took a shaky breath, and covered her eyes with her hand.

Now I felt like a complete ass. “I’m sorry,” I offered in a quiet voice. “I’ll … try harder.”

She nodded without looking up. “I won’t tell your father, not this time,” she murmured in a weary voice. “Don’t eat too much pizza or you’ll spoil your appetite for dinner.”

Standing, I hooked my backpack over one shoulder and took it and the plate into my room, kicking the door shut behind me.

Slumping to my desk, I ate my pizza while halfheartedly jiggling my laptop to life. The episode with Kingston, not to mention the talk with the half-breed, had made me edgy. I went to YouTube and watched videos of students practicing kali, trying to pick out the weaknesses in their attacks, poking holes in their defenses. Then, to keep myself occupied, I grabbed my rattan sticks from the wall and practiced a few patterns in the middle of my room, smacking imaginary targets with Brian Kingston’s face, being careful not to hit the walls or ceiling. I’d put a couple of holes in the drywall already, by accident of course, before Dad made the rule that all practice must be done outside or in the dojo. But I was much better now, and what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

As I was finishing a pattern, I caught a flash of movement from the corner of my eye and turned. Something black and spindly, like a giant spider with huge ears, crouched on the windowsill outside, watching me. Its eyes glowed electric green in the coming darkness.

I growled a curse and started forward, but when the creature realized I’d spotted it, it let out an alarmed buzz and blinked out of sight. Yanking up the window, I peered into the darkness, searching for the slippery little nuisance, but it was gone.

“Damn gremlins,” I muttered. Stepping back, I glared around my room, making sure everything was in place. I checked my lights, my clock, my computer; they all still worked, much to my relief. The last time a gremlin had been in my room, it had shorted out my laptop, and I’d had to spend my own money to get it fixed.

Gremlins were a special type of faery. They were Iron fey, which meant all my precautions and protections from the faery world didn’t work on them. Iron didn’t faze them, salt barriers didn’t keep them out, and horseshoes over doors and windows did nothing. They were so used to the human world, so integrated with metal and science and technology, that the old charms and protection rituals were too outdated to affect them at all. I rarely had problems with Iron fey, but they were everywhere. I guessed even the Iron Queen couldn’t keep track of them all.

The Iron Queen. A knot formed in my stomach. Shutting the window, I put my sticks away and dropped into the computer chair. For several minutes, I stared at the very top drawer of my desk, knowing what was inside. Wondering if I should torment myself further by taking it out.

Meghan. Do you even think of us anymore? I’d seen my half sister only a few times since she’d disappeared from our world nearly twelve years ago. She never stayed long; just a few hours to make sure everyone was okay, and then she was gone again. Before we moved, I could at least count on her to show up for my birthday and holidays. As I got older, those visits grew fewer and fewer. Eventually, she’d disappeared altogether.

Leaning forward, I yanked open the drawer. My long-lost older sister was another taboo subject in this household. If I so much as spoke her name, Mom would become depressed for a week. Officially, my sister was dead. Meghan wasn’t part of this world anymore; she was one of Them, and we had to pretend she didn’t exist.

But that half-breed knew about her. That could be trouble. As if I needed any more, as if being the delinquent, broody, don’t-let-your-daughter-date-this-hooligan wasn’t enough, now someone knew about my connection to the world of Faery.

Setting my jaw, I slammed the drawer shut and left the room, my thoughts swirling in a chaotic, sullen mess. I was human, and Meghan was gone. No matter what some half-breed faery said, I didn’t belong to that world. I was going to stay on this side of the Veil and not worry about what was happening in Faery.

No matter how much it tried to drag me in.

CHAPTER THREE

FAERIES IN THE GYM BAG

Day two.

Of purgatory.

My “fight” with the school quarterback and my discussion in the principal’s office hadn’t gone unnoticed, of course. Fellow students stared at me in the halls, whispering to their friends, muttering in low undertones. They shied away from me as if I had the plague. Teachers gave me the evil eye, as if worried that I might punch someone in the head or pull a knife, maybe. I didn’t care. Maybe Principal Hill had told them what had gone on in his office; maybe he’d told them I was a lost cause, because as long as I kept my head down, they ignored me.

Except for Miss Singer, who actually called on me several times during class, making sure I was still paying attention. I answered her questions about Don Quixote in monotones, hoping that would be enough to keep her off my back. She seemed pleasantly surprised that I’d read the homework assignment the night before, despite being somewhat distracted by the thoughts of gremlins lurking around my computer. Apparently satisfied that I could listen and stare out the window at the same time, Miss Singer finally left me alone, and I went back to brooding in peace.