The Iron King. Julie KagawaЧитать онлайн книгу.
back.â
âLike Iâm going anywhere,â I replied automatically, and then his previous statement sank in. âWait a minute. What do you mean, that wasnât Ethan? Who the hell else could it be?â
Rob ignored me. Walking to his backpack, he opened it and pulled out a long, green-tinted bottle and a tiny crystal cup. I frowned. Why was he going for champagne now? I was hurt, in pain, and my kid brother had turned into a monster. I was certainly not in the mood for celebrating.
With the utmost care, Robbie poured the champagne into the cup and walked back, being careful not to spill a single drop.
âHere,â he said, giving it to me. The cup sparkled in his hand. âDrink this. Where do you keep the towels?â
I took it suspiciously. âIn the bathroom. Just donât use Momâs good white ones.â As Rob walked off, I peered into the tiny cup. There was barely enough for a swallow. It didnât look like champagne to me. I was expecting something fizzy white or pink, sparkling in the glass. The liquid in the cup was a deep, dark red, the color of blood. A fine mist writhed and danced on the surface.
âWhat is this?â
Robbie, returning from the bathroom with a white towel, rolled his eyes. âDo you have to question everything? It will help you forget the pain. Just drink it already.â
I sniffed experimentally, expecting hints of roses or berries or some type of sweet scent mixed in with the alcohol.
It smelled of nothing. Nothing at all.
Oh, well. I raised the glass in a silent toast. âHappy birthday to me.â
The wine filled my mouth, flooding my senses. It tasted of nothing, and everything. It tasted of twilight and mist, moonlight and frost, emptiness and longing. The room swayed, and I fell back against the couch, it was so strong. Reality blurred at the edges, wrapping me in a fuzzy haze. I felt sick and sleepy all at once.
By the time my senses cleared, Robbie was tying a bandage around my leg. I didnât remember him cleaning or dressing the wound. I felt numb and dazed, like a blanket had dropped over my thoughts, making it hard to concentrate.
âThere,â Robbie said, straightening up. âThatâs done. At least your leg wonât fall off.â His eyes swept up to mine, anxious and assessing. âHowâre you feeling, princess?â
âUn,â I said intelligently, and tried to sweep the cobwebs from my brain. There was something I wasnât remembering, something important. Why was Robbie binding my leg? Had I hurt myself somehow?
I bolted upright.
âEthan bit me!â I exclaimed, indignant and furious all over again. I turned on Robbie. âAnd you ⦠you said that wasnât Ethan at all! What were you talking about? Whatâs going on?â
âRelax, princess.â Robbie tossed the bloody towel onto the floor and plopped onto a footstool. He sighed. âI was hoping it wouldnât come to this. My fault, I suppose. I shouldnât have left you alone today.â
âWhat are you talking about?â
âYou werenât supposed to see this, any of this,â Robbie went on, to my utter confusion. He seemed to be talking more to himself than me. âYour Sight has always been strong, that was a given. Still, I didnât expect them to go after your family, too. This changes things.â
âRob, if you donât tell me whatâs going onââ
Robbie looked at me. His eyes gleamed, impish and feral.
âTell you? Are you sure?â His voice went soft and dangerous, and goose bumps crawled up my arms. âOnce you start seeing things, you wonât be able to stop. People have gone mad with too much knowledge.â He sighed, and the menace dropped from his eyes. âI donât want that to happen to you, princess. It doesnât have to be this way, you know. I can make you forget all of this.â
âForget?â
He nodded and held up the wine bottle. âThis is mistwine.
You just had a swallow. A cup will make everything go back to normal.â He balanced the bottle on two fingers, watching it sway back and forth. âOne cup, and youâll be normal again. Your brotherâs behavior will not seem strange, and you wonât remember anything weird or scary. You know what they sayâignorance is bliss, right?â
Despite my uneasiness, I felt a slow flame of anger burning my chest. âSo, you want me to drink that ⦠that stuff, and just forget about Ethan. Just forget about my only brother. Thatâs what youâre saying.â
He raised an eyebrow. âWell, when you put it like that â¦â
The burning grew hot and furious, searing away the fear.
I clenched my fists. âOf course I wonât forget about Ethan!
Heâs my brother! Are you really that inhuman, or just stupid?â
To my surprise, a grin spread over his face. He dropped the bottle, caught it, and put it on the floor. âThe first,â he said, very softly.
That threw me. âWhat?â
âInhuman.â He was still grinning at me, the smile stretching his whole mouth so that his teeth gleamed in the fading light. âI warned you, princess. Iâm not like you. And now, neither is your brother.â
Despite the fear prickling my stomach, I leaned forward. âEthan? What do you mean? Whatâs wrong with him?â
âThat wasnât Ethan.â Robbie leaned back, crossing his arms. âThe thing that attacked you today is a changeling.â
CHAPTER FOUR
Puck
I stared at Robbie, wondering if this was another one of his stupid pranks. He sat there, observing me calmly, watching my reaction. Though he still wore a half grin, his eyes were hard and serious. He wasnât joking around.
âCh-changeling?â I finally stammered, looking at him like he was insane. âIsnât that some kind of ⦠of â¦â
âFaery,â Robbie finished for me. âA changeling is a faery offspring that has been switched with a human child. Usually, a trollâs or goblinâs, though the sidheâthe faery nobilityâhave been known to make the switch, as well. Your brother has been replaced. That thing is not Ethan, any more than I am.â
âYouâre crazy,â I whispered. If I wasnât sitting, Iâd be backing away from him toward the door. âYouâve gone off the deep end. Time to cut back on the anime, Rob. Thereâs no such thing as faeries.â
Robbie sighed. âReally? Thatâs what youâre going with? How predictable.â He leaned back and crossed his arms. âI thought better of you, princess.â
âThought better of me?â I cried, leaping off the couch.
âListen to yourself! You really expect me to believe that my brother is some kind of pixie with glitter dust and butterfly wings?â
âDonât be stupid,â Rob said mildly. âYou have no idea what youâre talking about. Youâre thinking âTinker Bell,â which is a typical human response to the word faery. The real fey arenât like that at all.â He paused a moment. âWell, except for the piskies, of course, but thatâs a different story altogether.â
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