Page 9 of The Iron Raven

I crossed my arms. “How did you even know where to find us?”

Grimalkin blinked. “I am a cat.”

Well, I should’ve seen that one coming.

Grimalkin sniffed, waved his tail, and turned, gazing at us over his shoulder. “Are we finished here, then?” he asked in a voice of exaggerated patience. “The night is waning, and it is not a short journey to Phaed. If one of you could open the Between, we can get this endeavor started. That is, if you are done talking incessantly at one another.”

I smirked at him. “But I like hearing myself talk. It’s one of my best qualities.”

“I think perhaps you are confusingqualitywithquantity. In any case, we are wasting time. Which is another thing you are so very good at.”

“I’m sorry, Furball, but who’s wasting time sitting here arguing with me?”

I could feel the gaze of the Forgotten on me as I spoke. This faery who didn’t know my name or anything about me. It was such a mind-blowing notion: everyone knew who I was. Even humans in the mortal world had at least heard the name Robin Goodfellow or Puck, thanks to a certain famous wordsmith. She probably thought I was a buffoon, but that wasn’t unusual; most people did. Because that’s what I wanted them to think.

“A waste of time, indeed.” The cat thumped his tail. He glanced at Keirran, who didn’t seem to be listening to us, his eyes shadowed and worried as he stood there with his arms crossed. “Shall we go then, Forgotten King? You know the way to the Between, do you not?”

“Yes.” Keirran shook himself and turned, suddenly all business as he gazed over the fairgrounds. “The Veil is thin over by the fun house,” he said, indicating the way with a quick gesture. “We should be able to cross into the Between from there.”

“We follow you, Your Majesty.” Nyx drew up the hood of her cloak, hiding her hair and star-speckled face from sight. “Lead on.”

No one bothered us as we walked back through the goblin market, though we caught several fearful, wary, and downright hostile glances from the surrounding fey. Whether they were reacting to the Forgotten King, the Great Prankster, or the unknown faery beside us, I didn’t know. Maybe all three of us together. But the crowds seemed to melt away before us, until we were standing at the doors to the fun house, which were set into the laughing mouth of a giant clown head at the entrance.

I grimaced and looked at Keirran. “Oh, that’s great. Nothing screamsfunlike walking into the jaws of a maniacal killer clown. Bet they gave a lot of kids nightmares with this thing.”

“I don’t choose where the Veil is thin,” the Forgotten King replied, as Nyx gazed at the doors in open wonder. “The Veil is constantly shifting. Crossing into the Between can be challenging, because the places where one can enter never stay accessible for long. On the other hand, you can almost always find a way in, if you’re willing to search. Or wait.”

“And miss out on the wonders that await us through the jaws of death?” I grinned and made a grand gesture through the gaping lips. “After you, princeling.”

We walked through the clown jaws, which emptied into one of those giant tubes that would spin slowly if the place had power. Beyond the tube, we walked through a maze of dark, twisting corridors that would’ve been pitch-black had Keirran not lit the way with a globe of faery fire. The bobbing orb of bluish light cast eerie luminance over slanted walls decorated with clown heads, porcelain dolls, and other things that made you generally uncomfortable.

Beside me, Nyx moved quietly, with a grace that went beyond the innate elegance of her kind. But her eyes were wide beneath the hood, gazing at everything with a mix of awe and utter confusion. When we turned a corner and came upon a clown mannequin hiding in an alcove, she jumped, and two curved glowing blades appeared in her hands like magic.

“Easy there.” I reached out and rapped the dummy’s forehead with a knuckle. “Not real. No need to slice and dice yet. Though trust me, that reaction is probably why weapons are not allowed in these kinds of places. Lots of stabbed mannequins, I’d wager.”

“What is this place?” The faery lowered her arms, the blades vanishing like they were made of starlight. “What purpose does it serve?”

“Purpose?” I shrugged. “To scare the pants off people? Humans like being scared nowadays. In a totally safe, nonlethal environment, of course. That’s where the ‘fun’ in fun house comes in.”

She looked completely poleaxed. “Mortalswantto be frightened now?” she almost whispered. “When I served the Lady, humans didn’t dare venture out alone at night. They didn’t need to invent terrors to frighten them—wedid that.”

“Yeah, I know.” I gave her a sympathetic smile. “Unfortunately, the days where mortals feared the dark and the things lurking in it are gone. True, there are still some forgotten places where humans remember and respect us, but for the most part...” I gestured to the mannequin and the things hanging from the walls around us. “Their world is so tame, they invent things that will frighten them, and pay for the experience of being scared.”

The faery shook her head in disbelief. “So, this is why we’re Fading away,” she murmured, almost to herself. “They’ve forgotten everything about us.”

That seemed to be a sensitive subject for the Forgotten, so I left it alone.

We left the maze and stepped into a long hallway with mirrors on either wall. Not normal mirrors, but the ones that showed grossly distorted images where you looked like a bean pole or you had a bathtub for a butt. Nyx caught sight of her warped reflection and gasped, flinching back from the image staring through the frame.

“What...what has happened to me?” She held out a hand, staring first at her delicate normal fingers, then at the distorted view in the glass. “Is this a curse? Some kind of strange human magic?”

“Nope, just their idea of entertainment.” I stepped behind her and grinned at my balloon-headed reflection, waving a sausage-fingered hand at us both. “The mirrors are bent in such a way that they distort the reflection. Humans like the grotesque and monstrous, as long as it isn’t real.”

She took a calming breath. “This world is very strange,” she remarked with a frown. “I used to know a hag who could curse someone to look like this always.” Raising her other hand, she waggled thumb-like fingers in seemingly morbid fascination. “Now it is merely a trick, a momentary distraction.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I know a couple witches who have threatened to curse me if they ever saw my face again.” She raised a silver brow at me, and I grinned. “I know, can you believe it? I mean, who would want to curse this innocent, angelic face? I would make a terrible frog.”

“Puck, Nyx.” Keirran’s voice came from ahead before she could answer. “This is it.”

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