The Lost Prince. Julie KagawaЧитать онлайн книгу.
when the piskie found me. What was it? One of the fey, I was certain, but I’d never seen this kind before, all pale and transparent, almost ghostlike. A bean sidhe, perhaps? But bean sidhes usually announced their presence with hair-raising shrieks and wails; they didn’t silently trail someone down a dark corridor, being careful to stay just out of sight. And I certainly wasn’t about to die.
I hoped.
What does it want with me? I paused at the library door, grasping the handle but not pulling it open. Through the small rectangular window, I saw the front desk, the librarian’s gray head bent over the computer. Kenzie would be in there, somewhere, waiting for me. And Todd. I’d promised I would meet them both, and I hated breaking my word.
A memory flashed: one of myself, fleeing the redcaps, taking refuge in the library. Pulling a knife as I hunkered between the aisles, waiting for them. The sadistic faeries setting fire to the wall of books to flush me into the open. I escaped, but my rush to get out was taken as me fleeing the scene of the crime, leading to my expulsion from school.
I drew in a quiet breath, pausing in the door frame, anger and fear spreading through my stomach. No, I couldn’t do this. If I went in, if They saw me talking to Kenzie, they could use her to get to me. I didn’t know what They wanted, but I wasn’t going to draw another person into my dangerous, messed-up life. Not again.
Releasing the handle, I stepped away and continued down the hall. I felt the thing follow me, and as I turned the corner, I thought I heard the library door creak open. I didn’t look back.
I walked out to the parking lot, but I didn’t stop there. Getting in my truck and driving home might lose my tail, but it wouldn’t give me any answers as to why it was following me. Instead, I passed the rows of cars, stepped over the curb, and continued on to the football field. Thankfully, it was empty today. No practice, no screaming coaches, no armored jocks slamming into each other. If Kingston and his friends saw me sauntering casually across their turf in a very blatant show of Screw you, Kingston, what are you gonna do about it? they would try to bury me here. I wondered if anyone else could see me, and if they did, would they tell the quarterback I was figuratively pissing on his territory? I smirked at the thought, vaguely tempted to stop and make it literal, as well. But I had more important things to deal with, and a pissing contest with Kingston wasn’t one of them.
Behind the bleachers, I stopped. A fence separated the field from a line of trees on the other side, so it was cool and shady here. I wished I had my knife. Something sharp, metal and lethal between me and whatever was coming my way. But I’d been caught with a knife before, and it had gotten me in a lot of trouble, so I’d left it at home.
Putting my back to the fence, I waited.
Something stepped around the bleachers, or rather, shimmered around the bleachers, barely visible in the sun. And even though it was a bright fall afternoon, with enough sunlight to melt away the chill, I suddenly felt cold. Sluggish. Like my thoughts and emotions were slowly being drained, leaving behind an empty shell.
Shivering, I gazed stonily at the thing hovering a few feet away. It was unlike any faery I’d seen before. Not a nymph, a sidhe, a boggart, a dryad, anything I recognized. Not to say I was an expert on the different types of faeries, but I’d seen more than most people, and this one was just … weird.
It was shorter than me by nearly a foot and so thin it didn’t seem possible that its legs could hold it up. In fact, its legs ended in needle-sharp tips, so it looked as if it was walking on toothpicks instead of feet. Its face was hatchet thin, and its fingers were those same thin points, as if it could poke its nail right through your skull. The skeletons of what used to be wings protruded from its bony shoulders, broken and shattered, and it hovered a few inches off the ground, as if the earth itself didn’t want to touch it.
For a few seconds, we just stared at each other.
“All right,” I said in an even voice, as the creepy fey floated there, still watching me. “You followed me out here—you obviously wanted to see me. What the hell do you want?”
Its eyes, huge and multifaceted like an insect’s, blinked slowly. I saw myself reflected a hundred times in its gaze. Its razor slit of a mouth opened, and it breathed:
“I bring a warning, Ethan Chase.”
I resisted the urge to cringe. There was something very … wrong … about this creature. It didn’t belong here, in the real world. The faeries I had seen, even the Iron fey, were still a part of reality, sliding back and forth between this realm and the Nevernever. This thing … it was as if its body was out of sync with the rest of world, the way it flickered and blurred, as if it wasn’t quite there. Wasn’t quite solid.
The faery raised one long, bony finger and pointed at me.
“Do not interfere,” it whispered. “Do not become involved in what will soon happen around you. This is not your fight. We seek no trouble with the Iron Court. But if you meddle in our affairs, human, you put those you care about at risk.”
“Your affairs? What are you?” My voice came out raspier than I wanted it to. “I’m guessing you’re not from the Seelie or Unseelie Courts.”
The faery’s slitted mouth might’ve twitched into a smile.
“We are nothing. We are forgotten. No one remembers our names, that we ever existed. You should do the same, human.”
“Uh-huh. So, you make a point of making certain I know you’re there, of tracking me down and threatening my family, to tell me I should forget about you.”
The faery drew back a step, gliding over the ground. “A warning,” it said again and tossed something at my feet, something small and gray. “This is what will happen to those who interfere,” it whispered. “Our return has just begun.”
I crouched, still keeping a wary eye on the faery, and spared a glance at what lay on the ground.
A piskie. The same one I’d seen earlier that day with Todd, I was sure of it. But its skin was a dull, faded gray, as if all the color had been sucked out of it. Gently, I reached down and picked it up, cradling it in my palm. It rolled over and blinked, huge eyes empty and staring. It was still alive, but even as I watched, the faery’s tiny body rippled and then … blew away. Like mist in the breeze. Leaving behind nothing at all.
My insides felt cold. I’d seen faeries die—they turned into leaves, branches, flowers, insects, dirt, and sometimes they did just vanish. But never like this. “What did you do to it?” I demanded, surging back to my feet.
The thing didn’t answer. It shimmered again, going transparent, as if it, too, were in danger of blowing away on the wind. Raising its hands, it gazed at its fingers, watching as they flickered like a bad television channel.
“Not enough,” it whispered, shaking its head. “Never enough. Still, it is something. That you can see me, talk to me. It is a start. Perhaps the half-blood will be stronger.”
It drifted back. “We will be watching you, Ethan Chase,” it warned, and suddenly turned, as if glimpsing something off to the side. “You do not want even more people hurt because of you.”
More people? Oh, no, I thought, as it dawned on me what the faery was implying. The dead Thistle, the “half-blood” it mentioned. Todd. “Hey!” I snapped, striding forward. “Hold it right there. What are you?”
The faery smiled, rippled in the sunlight and drifted away, over the fence and out of sight. I would’ve given chase, but the sound of movement behind the bleachers caught my attention, and I turned.
Kenzie stood beside the benches, a notepad in one hand, staring at me. From the look on her face, she’d heard every word.
CHAPTER SIX
VANISHED
I ignored Kenzie and strode quickly across the football field, not looking back.
“Hey!”