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“I told you he would say yes,” said Nene, as she let the pile of silk in her arms tumble onto Dru’s bed.

“Nene, no one likes an I told you so,” Dru said. Still, she was a little startled. She hadn’t actually expected Ash to agree to see her so soon after the debacle at the wall.

She’d written him a note requesting an audience, using the wording Nene had given her. She had then handed the note to Nene, who’d promised to deliver it. Dru had expected that the next hours or days would be miserable as she waited for a reply, but she’d been so exhausted from worrying about her family and friends that she’d slept all day and only woke on what she guessed was the next evening. She found Nene on her doorstep with a pleased expression on her face and a new dress in her arms, along with an invitation to meet Ash in the Juniper Room. Whatever that was.

“You will be dining with him,” Nene said, ignoring Dru’s comment. She was wearing her Elara glamour again, her black hair tightly braided around her head. “I have brought you an evening gown.”

Dru went over to the bed and picked up the dress. The fabric was a pure black with a rainbow sheen, like an oil slick. The sleeves were long and fitted, the skirt flared like a bell. The front was cut low and square, the back fastened with corset lacing—but instead of fabric laces, there were silver chains.

At least it was kind of goth. “Did you choose this?” Dru asked Nene.

Nene shook her head. “It was chosen by Ash.”

Dru scowled. Nene clearly thought the gesture was a kind one, but Dru recognized it as a power play. You will wear what I want you to wear.

She went behind a screen to dress, though she needed Nene’s help to lace up the back. She wondered what it must look like, bright silver chains against her pale skin, and she knew that this was why Ash had chosen it: He wanted to see that, too, wanted to see her clothed but vulnerable. Or maybe it was that chains hinted at captivity. Maybe he liked that.

Nene dabbed a stain made of roses onto Dru’s lips and cheeks, smoothed her hair, and deemed her ready to go. As the two of them made their way through the Seelie corridors, Dru’s thoughts raced with every step.

At last they reached a wooden doorway, carved with the image of a juniper tree. Dru exchanged a last look with Nene before turning the knob and stepping inside.

For a moment she thought she was back in the forest. But the forest had been deadly, terrifying. This was beautiful. Magical, even. She barely noticed the door swing shut behind her as she moved farther into the room.

The air was scented with pine and wildflowers—strange, rich, unearthly flowers, sweet and dark at the same time. Glowing will-o’-the-wisps illuminated the space, darting between trees that looked so real Dru guessed they must have been cut from the forest and brought here that day. Ferns and mosses, starred with the blossoms of fallen flowers, softened the ground. Dru kicked off her slippers and walked over it barefoot, enjoying the cushiony feeling.

She turned, taking it all in. That was when she caught sight of a shimmer, tucked among the trees. Moving closer she saw a banquet table, the oak dark and polished, set with silver and crystal. The silver gleamed; the crystal took the light of the wisps and refracted it into a rainbow of dazzling sparks. There were enough place settings for ten or twelve people, but only one person was sitting at the table, positioned at its head, as if he were presiding over a meeting.

Ash.

Kieran

Kieran had thought that the members of his Unseelie Court would be more upset. Not only were they completely cut off from the mortal world, but a gigantic evil wall had suddenly appeared on the borders of their kingdom, trapping them inside.

A few of them were unhappy about it, of course. General Winter felt this was all a bad sign, and those who had mortal lovers were distraught over their separation. Some faeries could reach their lovers in dreams, but not over so great a distance even at the best of times. (Kieran was selfishly glad that his own mortal lovers had been trapped in the Court with him and not outside it. At the moment, Mark and Cristina were the only thing keeping him from going mad.) On the other hand, Kieran’s brother Adaon actually seemed relieved, as he’d once been the lover of the Seelie Queen and was happy to have her on the other side of a physical barrier. As for the rest of the Court, they seemed largely unconcerned, as long as there were enough banquets, hunts, and games to keep them occupied.

Kieran spent most of his time searching through ancient texts and old maps for any kind of information that might illuminate the current situation. General Winter was around to advise, but since his favorite solution was always “send an army” and one couldn’t send an army to fight a large wall, Kieran found himself feeling irritatingly helpless. So much so that when an old enemy appeared one day at Court, requesting an audience, he decided to grant it under the assumption that it couldn’t make anything worse.

Mother Hawthorn of the wild fey hobbled into the throne room, leaning heavily on a gnarled wooden staff. From beneath a thatch of white hair, her green eyes peered at him with a bright, malicious intelligence. “Young man,” she said. “You look terrible.”

Kieran knew she was right. He’d barely slept since the wall had appeared and he knew his velvet tunic was wrinkled. “And you are as gnarled and hideous as ever, Mother Hawthorn,” he said, knowing it was unwise to show weakness. “Perhaps a little the worse for wear after your last encounter with the Wild Hunt?”

Her face darkened. “Don’t poke at me, child. Matters are serious. You know there are pockets of wild magic all over Faerie, and my people are scattered between Seelie and Unseelie, cut off from each other. Many also have business in the mortal world. I wish to know how long you intend to let this go on.”

“I would take down the wall today if I knew how,” Kieran said. “I don’t suppose you’ve got a suggestion.”

“I propose an alliance!” she said promptly. “We have a common enemy: the Seelie Queen. Her allies have erected this wall. That much I know. But they do not plan to leave Unseelie in peace. The Queen is after the throne of a united Faerie, and to obtain it she must destroy you.”

“You can’t be serious. She has no more claim upon that throne than I do.”

“But she believes her son does. Ash. The son of Sebastian Morgenstern. He has Seelie blood, and was shaped by the former Unseelie King’s dark magic. She claims he is Seelie and Unseelie both.”

“I remember Ash,” Kieran said grimly. “I knew him as my father’s prisoner. He refused to kill me, though, even when my father ordered him to.”

“It has been a long time for him since then. Time spent in the evil world of Thule. Do you really want to take the chance that he has not become a monster by now?”

“You know a great deal, old woman. It takes more than just will to seize the title of High King. The blood of fratricide must be washed from the land, and the High Crown mended.”

“There is one who can do that.” Mother Hawthorn looked eager. “Even now he walks the path that will bring him to power—and to us.”