The Lost Prince

“Ethan?” There was a knock, and Dad’s voice came through the door. “Are you in there? Who are you talking to?”

I winced. Unlike Mom, Dad had no problem invading my personal space. If it were up to him, I wouldn’t even have a door. “On the phone, Dad!” I called back.

“Oh. Well, dinner is ready. Tell your friend you’ll call back, okay?”

I grunted and heard his footsteps retreat down the hall. The piskie still hovered in the corner, watching me with big black eyes. It was terrified, and even though it was fey and had probably played a million nasty pranks on unsuspecting humans, I suddenly felt like a bully.

I sighed. “You know what?” I told it, moving to the window. “Forget it. This was stupid of me. I’m not getting involved with any of you, life debt or no.” Sweeping away the salt, I unlocked the window and pushed it open, letting in a blast of cool, rain-scented air. “Get out of here,” I told the piskie, who blinked in astonishment. “You want to repay me? Whatever you’re doing for that half-breed, stop it. I don’t want you hanging around him, or me, ever again. Now beat it.”

I jerked my head toward the window, and the piskie didn’t hesitate. It zipped past my head, seeming to go right through the screen, and vanished into the night.

CHAPTER FOUR

AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR

Storms always made me moody. More so than usual, anyway.

Don’t know why; maybe they reminded me of my childhood, back in the swamps. We’d gotten a lot of rain on our small farm, and somehow the drumming of water on the tin roof always put me to sleep. Or maybe because, when I was very small, I would creep out of bed and into my sister’s room, and she would hold me as the thunder boomed and tell me stories until I fell asleep.

I didn’t want to remember those days. They just reminded me that she wasn’t here now, and she never would be again.

I loaded the last plate into the dishwasher and kicked it shut, wincing as a crash of thunder outside made the lights flicker. Hopefully, the power would stay on this time. Call me paranoid, but stumbling around in the dark with nothing but a candle made me positive that the fey were lurking in shadowy corners and darkened bathrooms, waiting to pounce.

I finished clearing the table, walked into the living room and flopped down on the couch. Dad had already gone to work, and Mom was upstairs, so the house was fairly still as I flipped on the television, turning up the volume to drown out the storm.

The doorbell rang.

I ignored it. It wasn’t for me, that was for certain. I didn’t have friends; no one ever came to my house to hang out with the weird, unfriendly freak. Most likely it was our neighbor, Mrs. Tully, who was friends with Mom and liked to glare at me through the slits in her venetian blinds. As if she was afraid I would throw eggs at her house or kick her yappy little dog. She liked to give Mom advice about what to do with me, claiming she knew a couple of good military schools that would straighten me right out. Most likely, she was huddled on our doorstep with an umbrella and a bag of extra candles, using the storm as an excuse to come in and gossip, probably about me. I snorted under my breath. Mom was too nice to tell her to take a hike, but I had no such convictions. She could just stay out there as far as I was concerned.

The doorbell rang again, and it sounded louder this time, more insistent.

“Ethan!” Mom called from somewhere upstairs, her voice sharp. “Will you get that, please? Don’t leave whoever it is standing there in the rain!”

Sighing, I dragged myself upright and went to the door, expecting to see a plump old woman glaring disapprovingly as I yanked it open. It wasn’t Mrs. Tully, however.

It was Todd.

At first, I didn’t recognize him. He had on a huge camouflage jacket that was two sizes too big, and the hood had fallen over his eyes. When he raised a hand and shoved it back, the porch light caught his pupils and made them glitter orange. His hair and furry ears were drenched, and he looked even smaller than normal, huddled in that enormous coat. A bike lay on its side in the grass behind him, wheels spinning in the rain.

“Oh, good, this is the right house.” Todd grinned at me, canines flashing in the dim light. A violet-skinned piskie peeked out of his hood, blinking huge black eyes, and I recoiled. “Hey, Ethan!” the half-breed said cheerfully, peering past me into the house. “Nasty weather, isn’t it? Uh, can I come in?”

I instantly shut the door in his face, leaving no more than a few inches open to glare at him through the crack. “What are you doing here?” I hissed. He flattened his ears at my tone, looking scared now.

“I need to talk to you,” he whispered, glancing back over his shoulder. “It’s important, and you’re the only one who might be able to help. Please, you gotta let me in.”

“No way.” I kept a firm foot on the edge of the door, refusing to budge an inch as he pushed forward. “If you’re in trouble with Them, that’s your problem for getting involved. I told you before—I want nothing to do with it.” I glared at the piskie who crouched beneath Todd’s hood, watching it carefully. “Get lost. Go home.”

“I can’t!” Todd leaned in frantically, eyes wide. “I can’t go home because They’re waiting for me.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know! These weird, creepy, ghostly things. They’ve been hanging around my house since yesterday, watching me, and they keep getting closer.”

A chill spread through my stomach. I gazed past him into the rainy streets, searching for glimmers of movement, shadows of things not there. “What did you do?” I growled, glaring at the half-phouka, who cringed.

“I don’t know!” Todd made a desperate, helpless gesture, and his piskie friend squeaked. “I’ve never seen these type of fey before. But they keep following me, watching me. I think they’re after us,” he continued, gesturing to the fey on his shoulder. “Violet and Beetle are both terrified, and I can’t find Thistle anywhere.”

“So, you came here, to pull my family into this? Are you crazy?”

“Ethan?” Mom appeared behind me, peering over my shoulder. “Who are you talking to?”

“No one!” But it was too late; she’d already seen him.

Glancing past me, Todd gave a sheepish smile and a wave. “Um, hey, Ethan’s Mom,” he greeted, suddenly charming and polite. “I’m Todd. Ethan and I were supposed to trade notes this evening, but I sorta got caught in the rain on the way here. It’s nothing—I’m used to biking across town. In the rain. And the cold.” He sniffled and glanced mournfully at his bike, lying in the mud behind him. “Sorry for disturbing you,” he said, glancing up with the most pathetic puppy dog eyes I’d ever seen. “It’s late. I guess I’ll head on home now….”

“What? In this weather? No, Todd, you’ll catch your death.” Mom shooed me out of the doorway and gestured to the half-phouka on the steps. “Come inside and dry off, at least. Do your parents know where you are?”

“Thank you.” Todd grinned as he scurried over the threshold. I clenched my fists to stop myself from shoving him back into the rain. “And yeah, it’s okay. I told my Mom I was visiting a friend’s house.”

“Well, if the rain doesn’t let up, you’re more than welcome to stay the night,” Mom said, sealing my fate. “Ethan has a spare sleeping bag you can borrow, and he can take you both to school tomorrow in his truck.” She fixed me with a steely glare that promised horrible repercussions if I wasn’t nice. “You don’t mind, do you?”

I sighed. “Whatever.” Glancing at Todd, who looked way too pleased, I turned away and gestured for him to follow. “Come on, then. I’ll get that sleeping bag set up.”

He trailed me to my room, gazing around eagerly as he stepped through the frame. That changed when I slammed the door, making him jump, and turned to glare at him.

“All right,” I growled, stalking forward, backing him up to the wall. “Start talking. What’s so damned important that you had to come here and drag my family into whatever mess you created?”

“Ethan, wait.” Todd held up clawed hands. “You were right, okay? I shouldn’t have been screwing around with the fey, but it’s too late to go back and undo … whatever I did.”

“What did you do?”

“I told you, I don’t know!” The half-breed bared his canines in frustration. “Little things, nothing I haven’t done before. Teensy contracts with Thistle and Violet and Beetle to help with some of my tricks, but that’s all. But I think something bigger took notice of us, and now I think I’m in real trouble.”

“What do you want me to do about it?”

“I just …” Todd stopped, frowning. “Wait a minute,” he muttered, and pushed his hood back. It flopped emptily. “Violet? Where’d she go?” he said, stripping out of the coat and shaking it. “She was here a few minutes ago.”

I smirked at him. “Your piskie friend? Yeah, sorry, she couldn’t get past the ward on the front door. No faery can get over the threshold without my permission, and I wasn’t about to set that thing free in my house. It doesn’t work on half-breeds, sadly.”

He looked up, eyes wide. “She’s still outside?”

A tap came on the window, where a new line of salt had been poured across the sill. The dripping wet piskie stared through the glass at us, her small features pinched into a scowl. I grinned at her smugly.

“I knew it,” Todd whispered, and dropped his wet jacket onto a chair. “I knew you were the right person to come to.”

I eyed him. “What are you talking about?”

“Just …” He glanced at the piskie again. She pressed her face to the glass, and he swallowed. “Dude, can I … uh…. let her in? I’m scared those things are still out there.”

“If I refuse, are you going to keep bothering me until I say yes?”

“More or less, yeah.”

Annoyed, I brushed away the salt and cracked open the window, letting the piskie through with a buzz of wings and damp air. Two faeries in my room in the same night; this was turning into a nightmare. “Don’t touch anything.” I glowered at her as she settled on Todd’s shoulder with a huff. “I have an antique iron birdcage you can sit in if anything goes missing.”

The piskie made irritated buzzing sounds, pointing at me and waving her arms, and Todd shook his head. “I know, I know! But he’s the Iron Queen’s brother. He’s the only one I could think of.”

My heart gave a violent lurch at the mention of the Iron Queen, and I narrowed my eyes. “What was that?”

“You have to help us,” Todd exclaimed, oblivious to my sudden anger. “These things are after me, and they don’t look friendly. You’re the brother of the Iron Queen, and you know how to keep the fey out. Give me something to keep them away from me. The common wards are helping, but I don’t think they’re strong enough. I need something more powerful.” He leaned forward, ears pricked, eyes eager. “You know how to keep Them away, right? You must, you’ve been doing it all your life. Show me how.”

“Forget it.” I glared at him, and his ears wilted. “What happens if I give you all my secrets? You would just use it to further your stupid tricks. I’m not revealing everything just to have it bite me in the ass later.” His ears drooped even more, and I crossed my arms. “Besides, what about your little friends? The wards I know are for all fey, not just a select few. What happens to them?”

“We can get around that,” Todd said quickly. “We’ll make it work, somehow. Ethan, please. I’m desperate, here. What do you want from me?” He leaned forward. “Give me a hint. A tip. A note scribbled on a fortune cookie, I’ll try anything. Talk to me this one time, and I swear I’ll leave you alone after this.”

I raised an eyebrow. “And your friends?”

“I’ll make sure they leave you alone, as well.”

I sighed. This was probably monumentally stupid, but I knew what it was like to feel trapped, not having anyone I could turn to. “All right,” I said reluctantly. “I’ll help. But I want your word that you’ll stop all bargains and contracts after today. If I do this, no more ‘help’ from the Good Neighbors, got it?”

The piskie buzzed sadly, but Todd nodded without hesitation. “Deal! I mean … yeah. I swear.”

“No more contracts or bargains?”

“No more contracts or bargains.” He sighed and made an impatient gesture with a claw. “Now, can we please get on with it?”

I had major doubts that he could keep that promise—half fey weren’t bound by their promises the way full fey were—but what else could I do? He needed my help, and if something was after him, I couldn’t stand back and do nothing. Rubbing my eyes, I went to my desk, opened the bottom drawer and pulled out an old leather journal from under a stack of papers. After hesitating a moment, I walked forward and tossed it onto my bed.

Todd blinked. “What is that?”

“All my research on the Good Neighbors,” I said, pulling a half-empty notepad off my bookshelf. “And if you mention it to anyone, I will kick your ass. Here.” I tossed him the pad, and he caught it awkwardly. “Take notes. I’ll tell you what you need to know—it’ll be up to you to go through with it.”

We stayed there for the rest of the evening, him sitting on my bed scribbling furiously, me leaning against my desk reading wards, charms and recipes from the journal. I went over the common wards, like salt, iron and wearing your clothes inside out. We went over things that could attract the fey into a house: babies, shiny things, large amounts of sugar or honey. We briefly discussed the most powerful ward in the book, a circle of toadstools that would grow around the house and render everything inside invisible to the fey. But that spell was extremely complicated, required rare and impossible ingredients, and could be safely performed only by a druid or a witch on the night of the waning moon. Since I didn’t know any local witches, nor did I have any powdered unicorn horn lying around, we weren’t going to be performing that spell anytime in the near future. Besides, I told a disappointed Todd, you could put a wrought-iron fence around your house with less effort than the toadstool ring, and it would do nearly the same job in keeping out the fey.

“So,” Todd ventured after a couple of hours of this. I sensed he was getting bored, and marveled that the half-phouka had lasted this long. “Enough talk about the fey already. Word around school is that you were a total douche to Mackenzie St. James.”

I looked up from the journal, where I was making small corrections to a charm using ragwort and mistletoe. “Yeah? So what?”

“Dude, you’d better be careful with that girl.” Todd put down his pen and gazed at me with serious orange eyes. The piskie buzzed from the top of my bookshelf to land on his shoulder. “Last year, some guy kept following her around, trying to ask her out. Wouldn’t leave her alone even when she turned him down.” He shook his shaggy head. “The whole football team took him out behind the bleachers to have ‘a talk’ about Kenzie. Poor bastard wouldn’t even look at her after that.”

“I have no interest in Kenzie St. James,” I said flatly.

“Good to hear,” Todd replied. “‘Cause Kenzie is off-limits. And not just to people like you and me. Everyone at school knows it. You don’t bother her, you don’t start rumors about her, you don’t hang around, you don’t make yourself unwanted, or the Goon Squad will come and leave an impression of your face in the wall.”

“Seems a little drastic,” I muttered, intrigued despite myself. “What, did she have a nasty breakup with one of the jocks, and now he doesn’t want anyone to have her?”

“No.” Todd shook his head. “Kenzie doesn’t have a boyfriend. She’s never had a boyfriend. Not once. Why is that, you wonder? She’s gorgeous, smart, and everyone says her dad is loaded. But she’s never gone out with anyone. Why?”

“Because people don’t want their heads bashed in by testosterone-ridden gorillas?” I guessed, rolling my eyes.

But Todd shook his head. “No, I don’t think that’s it,” he said, frowning at my snort of disbelief. “I mean, think about it, dude—if Kenzie wanted a boyfriend, do you think anyone, even Chief Tool Kingston himself, would be able to stop her?”

No, I thought, he wouldn’t. No one would. I had the distinct feeling that if Kenzie wanted something, she would get it, no matter how difficult or impossible it was. She had wheedled an interview out of me—that was saying something. The girl just didn’t take no for an answer.

“Kinda makes you wonder,” Todd mused. “Pretty girl like that, with no boyfriend and no interest in any guy? Do you think she could be—”

“I don’t care,” I interrupted, pushing thoughts of Mackenzie St. James to the back of my mind. I couldn’t think about her. Because even if Kenzie was pretty and kind and had treated me like a decent human being, even though I was a total ass to her, I could not afford to bring someone else into my dangerous, screwed-up world. I was spending the evening teaching anti-faery charms to a piskie and a half-phouka; that was a pretty good indication of how messed up my life was.

A crash of thunder outside rattled the ceiling and made the lights flicker just as there was a knock on the door and Mom poked her head in. I quickly flipped the journal shut, and Todd snatched the notebook from where it lay on the bed, hiding the contents as she gazed down at us.

“How are you boys doing?” Mom asked, smiling at Todd, who beamed back at her. I kept a close eye on his piskie, making sure it didn’t dart through the crack into the rest of the house. “Everything all right?”

“We’re fine, Mom,” I said quickly, wishing she would close the door. She frowned at me, then turned to my unwanted guest.

“Todd, it looks like it’s going to storm all night. My husband is at work, so he can’t drive you home, and I am not sending you out in this weather. It looks like you’ll have to stay here tonight.” He looked relieved, and I suppressed a groan. “Make sure you call your parents to let them know where you are, okay?”

“I will, Mrs. Chase.”

“Did Ethan set you up with a sleeping bag yet?”

“Not yet.” Todd grinned at me. “But he was just about to, right, Ethan?”

I glared daggers at him. “Sure.”

“Good. I’ll see you boys tomorrow morning, then. And Ethan?”

“Yeah?”

She gave me a brief look that said be nice or your father will hear about this. “It’s still a school night. Lights out before too long, okay?”

“Fine.”

The door clicked shut, and Todd turned to me, wide-eyed. “Wow, and I thought my parents were strict. I haven’t heard ‘lights out’ since I was ten. Do you have a curfew, as well?” I gave him a hooded stare, daring him to go on, and he squirmed. “Um, so where’s the bathroom, again?”

I rose, dug a sleeping bag from my closet, and tossed it and an extra pillow on the floor. “Bathroom’s down the hall to the right,” I muttered, returning to my desk. “Just be quiet—my dad gets home late and might freak out if he doesn’t know about you. And the piskie stays here. It doesn’t leave this room, got it?”

“Sure, man.” Todd closed the notebook, rolled it up, and stuffed it in a back pocket. “I’ll try some of these when I get home, see if any of them work. Hey, Ethan, thanks for doing this. I owe you.”

“Whatever.” I turned my back on him and opened my laptop. “You don’t owe me anything,” I muttered as he started to leave the room. “In fact, you can thank me by never mentioning this to anyone, ever.”

Todd paused in the hallway. He seemed about to say something, but when I didn’t look up, turned and left silently, the door clicking shut behind him.

I sighed and plugged my headphones into my computer, pulling them over my head. Despite Mom’s insistence that I go to bed soon, sleep wasn’t likely. Not with a piskie and a half-phouka sharing my room tonight; I’d wake up with my head glued to the baseboard, or find my computer taped to the ceiling, or something like that. I shot a glare at the piskie sitting on my bookshelf, legs dangling over the side, and she glared back, baring sharp little teeth in my direction.

Definitely no sleep for Ethan tonight. At least I had coffee and live-streaming to keep me company.

“Oh, cool, you like Firefly?” Todd came back into the room, peering over my shoulder at the computer screen. Grabbing a stool, he plunked himself down next to me, oblivious to my wary look. “Man, doesn’t it suck that it was canceled? I seriously thought about sending Thistle with a few of her friends to jinx FOX until they put it on again.” He tapped the side of his head, indicating my headphones. “Dude, turn it up. This is my favorite episode. They should’ve just stuck with the television series and not bothered with that awful movie.”

I pulled the headphones down. “What are you talking about? Serenity was awesome. They needed it to tie up all the loose ends, like what happened with River and Simon.”

“Yeah, after killing everyone that was important,” Todd sneered, rolling his eyes. “Bad enough that they offed the preacher dude. Once Wash died I was done.”

“That was brilliant,” I argued. “Made you sit up and think, hey, if Wash died, no one was safe.”

“Whatever, man. You probably cheered when Anya died on Buffy, too.”

I smirked but caught myself. What was happening here? I didn’t need this. I didn’t need someone to laugh and joke and argue the finer points of Whedon films with me. Friends did that sort of thing. Todd was not my friend. More important, I wasn’t anyone’s friend. I was someone who should be avoided at all costs. Even someone like Todd was at risk if I didn’t keep my distance. Not to mention the pain he could bring down on me.

“Fine.” Pulling off the headphones, I set them on the desk in front of the half-breed, not taking my hand away. “Knock yourself out. Just remember …” Todd reached for the headphones, and I pulled them back. “After tonight, we’re done. You don’t talk to me, you don’t look for me, and you definitely don’t show up at my front door. When we get to school, you’ll go your way and I’ll go mine. Don’t ever come here again, got it?”

“Yeah.” Todd’s voice, though sullen, was resigned. “I got it.”

I pushed myself to my feet, and he frowned, pulling the headphones over his furry ears. “Where are you going?”

“To make some coffee.” I shot a glance at the piskie, now on my windowsill, staring out at the rain, and resigned myself to the inevitable. “Want some?”

“Ugh, usually that would be a ‘no,’” Todd muttered, pulling a face. Following my gaze to the window, his ears flattened. “But, yeah, go ahead and make me a cup. Extra strong … black … whatever.” He shivered as he watched the storm raging beyond the glass. “I don’t think either of us will be getting much sleep tonight.”

CHAPTER FIVE

THE GHOST FEY

“Uh-oh,” Todd muttered from the passenger seat of my truck. “Looks like Kingston is back.”

I gave the red Camaro a weary look as we cruised past it in the parking lot, not bothering to think about what Todd might be implying. Hell, I was tired. Staying up all night as Todd watched reruns of Angel and Firefly, listening to the half-breed’s running commentary and drinking endless cups of coffee to keep myself awake, wasn’t high on my list of favorite things to do. At least one of us had gotten a few hours’ sleep. Todd had finally curled up on the sleeping bag and started to snore, but the piskie and I had given each other evil glares until dawn.

Today was going to suck, big-time.

Todd opened the door and hopped out of the truck almost before I turned off the engine. “So, uh, I guess I’ll see you around,” he said, edging away from me. “Thanks again for last night. I’ll start setting these up as soon as I get home.”

Whatever, I wanted to say, but just yawned at him instead. Todd hesitated, as if he was debating whether or not to tell me something. He grimaced.