Breaching borders without permission of the Erlkin is a grave offense.” He moved his leather-clad finger to the trigger of his weapon. “For the danger you’ve caused our lands, I could put you down right here, by law.”
Conrad took another step forward. I wanted to yell at him not to be an idiot, but I couldn’t make myself talk. I wanted to grab him like he’d grabbed me, foolish and frantic, and run, but the trees rustled behind us and two more Erlkin with similar weapons stepped onto the road. Who knew how many more might be in the trees? I stayed still, my heart pounding, hating myself for hesitating.
“We can work this out,” Conrad said again. “I have money.”
“We’re soldiers—we work for the people of Windhaven. We don’t want your money.” The Erlkin nodded to the weapon in his hands. “This is a shock rifle. Might not kill you, but it’ll knock you out. Now stay put before I prove it to you.”
“I say we shoot him here,” said the other. “Lowlife consorting with slipstreamers, and probably a human criminal himself. We don’t need that kind in our land.”
Both Erlkin raised their rifles. I opened my mouth to shout. Conrad might have been a complete idiot for using criminals to get him into the Mists and escape the Proctors, but he was my brother, and if I had to throw myself into the line of fire, I would.
Before I could do more than stumble to my feet, Dean’s shape appeared between us and the Erlkin. “Don’t shoot.”
The Erlkin looked at Dean, then each other. The pair behind us shifted uncomfortably, but at a gesture from the leader, they lowered their rifles.
“Is it …?” said the one who’d wanted to vaporize Conrad.
“I think it is,” said the leader. He cocked an eyebrow at Dean. “You’ve grown a foot or two, Nails, but I’d know that smug face anywhere.”
I cut a glance at Dean. I knew that he was half Erlkin, but I’d had no idea he was known to the Erlkin at large. I stayed quiet, waiting for him to say something and praying that it wouldn’t be one of the smartass comments that usually came out of his mouth.
Dean bristled, his shoulders going up the way they did when he got insulted. “That’s not my name. It hasn’t been for years, and you of all people, Skip, should know that.”
“
“Cal,” I said, trying not to move my lips or my body in any way that could be interpreted as threatening.
“I forget what you’re running under these days,” Skip said. “Dave or Dale or something, right? While you pretend you’re flesh-and-blood human?”
“It’s Dean,” Dean gritted out. “And I’m a hell of a lot more human than you.”
For a breathless second, I thought Skip was going to shoot Dean, and then move on to Conrad and the rest of us. His cadaverous brow furrowed, and his body language tightened so much I was surprised he didn’t break. Then he dropped his rifle and laughed.
Dean laughed too, but he didn’t drop his shoulders. Neither did Skip, although he pasted a great big smile on his face, one that looked about as out of place as I’d have looked at a formal tea party.
“Hell, man,” Skip said. “How long has it been?”
“Ten years, at least,” Dean said. “We were both still playing with toys, for sure.”
“Yeah, except it looks like you never stopped playing around,” Skip said, gesturing at us. “What on the scorched earth is going on here? You still running humans around in circles and calling yourself an underground guide?”
Dean’s shoulders tightened another notch. “Why are you asking, Skip? You keeping tabs on me?”
“Not me.” Skip shrugged. “But someone up there is keeping an eye on you, boyo, a close and watchful eye, at that.”
Dean didn’t stop smiling, but he dropped back to stand next to me. The implicit meaning wasn’t lost on me: he was with us, even though he shared Erlkin blood, just like Conrad and I shared the Fae’s. None of us was one thing or the other. We were caught in the middle, just like we were caught between the four Erlkin with their rifles.
“We’re not here to make trouble,” Dean told Skip. “We’re just passing through.”
Skip shook his head. “Don’t even try to sell that one to me, Nails. Dean. Whatever. You know we’ve got to take you up. That one’s a wanted criminal, and the others, well.” He sighed. “We know what’s happening in the Iron Land.”
“I really doubt that,” Dean muttered, but he nodded to Conrad and the rest of us. “Fine. Take us up to the city on Windhaven. Can’t say I missed that flying junkyard at all, so let’s get this over with.”
Skip gestured at Conrad. “We’re going to arrest him and put the cuffs on.”
Conrad bristled. “The hell you are.”
“Conrad,” I snapped at him, jabbing him on the arm. “You’ve done enough to aggravate these gentlemen, don’t you think?”
He looked at me like I’d slapped him with my hand rather than my tongue. I felt a pang in return. I used to be a good girl, a nice girl, who never so much as raised her voice. Who would never have scolded her brother for only doing what he thought he had to.
Well, she was gone, along with the life she’d lived. Conrad had led us back into the Mists as a wanted criminal, and he’d gotten us into this mess. I loved my brother, but he could be a prize idiot.
Skip gestured to his fellow soldier, who pulled out a pair of old-fashioned skeleton-key shackles. I flinched when I saw the gleam of polished, oiled iron. I just hoped Conrad would be out of them before the madness started to creep in. The last time he’d had a fit, back in Lovecraft, he’d attacked me and tried to slash my throat. I tried not to think about it, the feel of the knife against my skin, the curious warmth of blood loss, but the memories crept in and I flinched as the Erlkin snapped the cuffs shut around my brother’s wrists.
Skip gestured to the group, and we fell into a loose line, bracketed by the four Erlkin.
Dean grabbed my arm and leaned close enough that his lips were against my ear. “When he asks—and he will—you and I met somewhere that didn’t involve guiding, you’re here because your brother got you mixed up in a scheme, and for the love of all that’s iron, don’t mention the Fae stuff unless you want your head hung out as a warning to anyone else who’d wander into the Mists. Got it?”
“Got it,” I murmured, keeping my eye on the back of Skip’s head. Dean had made it evident there was no love lost between Fae and Erlkin, but I had the sinking impression that I’d gotten into a swamp much deeper and more dangerous than I could have conceived. I wasn’t as good a liar as Dean or Conrad, and I couldn’t lie inside my own mind at all—I was scared of what we’d find when we reached this Windhaven, whatever it was.
“Knew you’d catch on, princess,” Dean muttered, and brushed a kiss against the top of my ear before he let go of me.
I put aside the way his touch made my thoughts jiggle out of alignment. It wasn’t the time for crushes and weak knees, even if I wanted nothing more than to have everything be right again, and my biggest concern to be what to wear on a date with Dean, a real one with no Proctors and no specter of their lie. I raised my voice instead and spoke to Skip.
“Where are we going?”
“Windhaven,” he said. “And to get to Windhaven, we’re going to fly.”
3
The Dance of the Air
WE WALKED PERHAPS half a mile, to a clearing down a gravel path off the main road. Skip and his friends kept in tight formation around us. I found it a bit ludicrous—they had no idea who the real threat was. Conrad, presumably, had a Weird like I did, some kind of elemental magic that allowed the Graysons to conjure wind and flame and everything in between. But he had never shown it to me, and I hadn’t brought it up.
It’d be much better if Skip kept thinking of Conrad as criminal but basically harmless, just a stupid human overstepping his bounds. This goal in mind, I walked with my head down, the same ache in my feet that had been
