All was taken away from you: white dresses,
wings, even existence.
—Czeslaw Milosz, "On Angels"
Corny shivered on the steps of the apartment building. The cold of the cement soaked up through the thin fabric of his jeans as flurries of snow froze in his hair. The hot coffee he had bought at the bodega tasted like ashes, but he grimaced through another sip for the warmth. He tried not to notice that thin hairline cracks had already begun to form at the very tips of his rubber gloves.
He didn't want to think too carefully about the relief he'd felt when Kaye couldn't remove the curse. He'd felt diseased at first, like it was him rotting away and not the things he touched. But it wasn't him withering. Only everything else. He imagined all the things he hated, all the things he could destroy, and found his grip on the cup so tight that the cardboard bent and coffee splashed his leg.
Kaye pushed though the front door with enough force to nearly send it crashing against the side of the building. Lutie fluttered alongside her, darting out into the safety of the air.
Corny stood up reflexively.
Kaye paced back and forth on the steps. "She pretty much hates me. I guess I should have pretty much expected that.”
"Well, then I'm not bringing her a soda," Corny said, popping the tab and taking a swig. He made a face. "Ugh. Diet.”
Kaye didn't even smile. She wrapped her purple coat around herself. "I'm going to get back the other Kaye for her. I'm going to switch us back.”
"But . . . Kaye." Corny struggled to find the words. "You're her daughter, and that other kid . . . she doesn't even know Ellen. Ellen doesn't know her.”
"Sure," Kaye said hollowly. "It might be awkward at first, but they'll work it out.”
"It's not that simple—," Corny started.
Kaye cut him off. "It is that simple. I'm going to call the number on that piece of paper and go see the Queen. If she wants something from me, then I have a chance of getting the other Kaye back.”
"Sure. I bet she'd trade Chibi-Kaye for your head on a platter," Corny said, frowning.
"Chibi-Kaye?" Kaye looked as if she didn't know whether to laugh or hit him.
He shrugged. "You know, like in those mangas where they draw the cute, small version of a character.”
"I know what a chibi is!" She dug around in her pocket. "Give me your cell phone for a second.”
He looked at her evenly. "You know I'm coming with you, right?”
"I don't—," Kaye started.
"I can handle it," Corny said before she could finish. "Just because this is dumb doesn't mean you get to do it alone. And I don't need your protection.”
"And I don't want to screw up your life more than I already have!”
"Look," Corny said. "Before, you mentioned that maybe this Fixer guy would know something about my curse. We would have called this person and I would have gone with you anyway.”
"Fine, okay, okay. Cell?”
"Let me call," Corny said, holding out his hand.
Kaye sighed, seeming to deflate. She held out the paper. "Fine.”
Corny punched in the number, although it took a few tries with the thick gloves. The phone rang once and a computer voice said, "Hit pound and dial your number.”
"Pager," he said to Kaye's questioning look. "Yeah, your guide to the Seelie Court is totally a dealer.”
Lutie settled on Kaye's shoulder and grabbed a clump of green hair, wrapping it around her tiny body like a cloak. "Bitter coldy cold," she said.
"Let's head toward your car. Maybe by the time we get there, he'll call back.”
Corny jumped off the steps. "Otherwise, we can sleep in the back covered in fast-food garbage like the brother and sister in 'Babes in the Wood' who got—”
"Lutie," Kaye said, interrupting him. "You can't come. You have to watch over my mom. Please. Just to make sure that she's okay.”
"But it smells and I'm bored.”
"Lutie, please. Where we're going—it could be dangerous.”
The little faery flew up, wings and clotted cream hair making her seem like a tossed handful of snow. "I'm half sick of iron, but I will stay. For you. For you." She pointed one toothpick-tiny finger down at Kaye as she rose toward the apartment window.
"We'll come for you as soon as we can," Corny called, but he was relieved. Sometimes it was tiring trying not to stare at her delicate hands or her miniature bird-black eyes. There was nothing human about her.
As they crossed the street, Corny's phone rang. He flipped it open. "Hey.”
"What you want?" It was a young man's voice, soft and angry. "Who gave you this number?”
"I'm sorry. Maybe I dialed wrong." He made wide eyes at Kaye. "We're looking for a . . . the . . . the Fixer.”
The line went quiet, and Corny winced at how lame he sounded.
"You still haven't told me what you want," the boy said.
"My friend got a note. Said you could help her see the Queen.”
"Okay.”
"So, wait, you are the Fixer?" Corny said, and smiled when Kaye looked over impatiently.
"Ask him about the curse," Kaye said.
"Yeah, that's me." The boy's tone made it hard for Corny to decide if he really meant it. "And yeah, I'm supposed to take a girl upstate. Tell her to come over here in the morning and we can go. You got paper?”
"Hold on." Corny fumbled for something to write with. Kaye reached into her pockets and came up with a pen. When she held it out, he took it and her arm. "Okay, go.”
The boy gave them his address. Riverside Drive on the Upper West Side. Corny wrote it on Kaye's skin.
"I want to leave now," Kaye said. "Tell him. Tonight.”
"She wants to leave tonight," Corny repeated into the phone.
"Is that girl crazy?" the boy asked. "It's two in the morning.”
Kaye pulled the phone out of Corny's hands. "We just need directions.”
"Uh-huh," she said. "Okay." She hung up. "He wants us to head over to the address he gave you.”
He forced himself not to roll his eyes.
Corny parked in front of a metered spot, figuring he could move the car later. Out beyond the park, the river glistened, reflecting the lights of the city. Kaye took a deep breath as she stepped out, and he saw human color cover her green cheeks.
They walked back and forth on the street, checking numbers until they came to a short building with a glossy black door.
"This isn't really the place, is it?" Corny asked. "It's kind of really nice. Too nice.”
"The address is right." Kaye held up her arm to show him what he'd written.
A woman with red-rimmed eyes and frizzy hair stepped out onto the landing, letting the door swing behind her. Corny stepped out of the way and caught it before it slammed closed. As she walked down the steps, he thought he saw a swaddled-up bundle of twigs in her arms.
Kaye's gaze followed the bundle.
"Maybe we should think more about this," Corny said.
Kaye pressed the buzzer.
After a few moments, a dark-skinned boy with his hair in thick herringbone cornrows opened the door. One of his eyes was cloudy, the lower part of the pupil obscured by a milky haze. Metal studs threaded through his eyebrow, and a stretch of pale scar tissue on his lower lip seemed to indicate that a ring had once been ripped loose from his mouth, although a new one gleamed next to the scar.
"You're in with the Seelie Court?" Corny asked, incredulous.
The boy shook his head. "I'm as human as you. Now, her, on the other hand." He looked at Kaye. "The Queen never said nothing about a pixie. I don't let folk in my house.”
Corny looked over at Kaye. To him, she seemed glamoured, her wings gone, her skin pink, and her eyes a perfectly average brown. He looked back at the boy in the doorway.
"So what exactly did she say?" Kaye asked. "Silarial.”
"Her messenger told me that you were a little jumpy around faeries," the boy said, looking at Corny. "That you might feel more comfortable with me.”
Kaye poked Corny in the side and he rolled his eyes. Jumpy wasn't exactly how he wanted to be thought of.
"I was supposed to tell you that the Lady Silarial invites you to visit her court." The boy turned his lip ring idly. "She wants you to consider your part in the coming war.”
"Okay, that's enough," Corny said. "Let's get out of here.”
"No," Kaye said. "Wait.”
"She anticipated your hesitation." The boy smiled.
Corny interrupted him. "Let me guess. For a limited time only the Queen offers a free magazine subscription with each forced march to Faerieland. You can choose between Nearly Naked Nixies and Kelpie Quarterly.”
The boy let out a surprised laugh. "Sure. But not just the magazine. She's also offering both of you her protection for the duration of the trip. There and back again.”
Corny wondered if it were possible that this guy had just made a Tolkien reference. He really didn't look like the type.
Kaye squinted. "I've seen you before. In the Night Court.”
The smile dropped from the boy's face. "I was only there once.”
"With a girl," Kaye said. "She dueled one of Roiben's people. You probably don't remember me.”
"You're from the Night Court?" the boy demanded. His glance went to Corny and his eyes narrowed.
Corny reminded himself he didn't care what this guy thought of either one of them.
Kaye shrugged. "More or less.”
The boy sucked on his teeth. "Not such a nice place.”
"And the Bright Court is full of sugar and spice and everything nice?" Kaye asked him.
"Point." The boy slid his hands into the pockets of his oversize coat. "Look, the Lady wants me to take you to her, and I don't have much choice about being her bitch, but you've still got to come back in the morning. I've got someone coming really early, and I've got to take care of him before I head out.”
"We can't," Corny said. "We don't have anywhere to sleep.”
The boy looked at Kaye. "I can't let her stay here. I do jobs for people—human people. They see some faery and her boy hanging around and think they can't trust me.”
"So I guess they don't know that you're Silarial's boy," Corny said. "Then they'd know not to trust you.”
"I do what I have to do," he said. "Not like you—a little Night Court lackey. Does it bother you when they torture humans, or do you like to watch?”
Corny shoved him, hard, the force of his rage surprising even him. "You don't know anything about me.”
The boy laughed, short and sharp, stumbling back. Corny thought of his own hands, deadly inside thin gloves. He wanted to stop the boy's laughing.
Kaye pushed between them. "So if I were to take off my glamour and sit here on your stoop, that would be a problem?”
"You wouldn't do that. Your glamour protects you a lot more than it does me.”
"Does it?" Kaye asked.
A pixie. The boy had known right away, not just that Kaye was a faery, but the kind of faery she was. Corny thought about the little hob and what he'd said: There is a boy with the True Sight. In the great city of exiles and iron to the north. He's been breaking curses on mortals. The boy had True Sight. He couldn't tell if she was wearing glamour or not.
He turned to Kaye and widened his eyes slightly in what he hoped would seem like surprise. Then he turned back to the boy and smiled. "Looks like she meant it. Wow, I can never get used to her wings and green skin—so freaky-looking. I guess we'll just be hanging out on your steps now. It's not like we have anywhere else to go. But don't worry—if anyone comes by looking for you, we'll tell them you'll be right out ... as soon as you're done helping a phooka find his keys.”
The boy frowned. Corny put his gloved hand on Kaye's arm, willing her to play along. With a quick glance in his direction, she shrugged her narrow shoulders.
"At least you'll know where to find us in the morning," she said.
"Fine," said the boy, holding up his hands. "Get in here.”
"Thanks," Corny said. "This is Kaye, by the way. Not 'the pixie' or 'my Night Court mistress' or whatever, and I'm . . ." He paused. "Neil. Cornelius. People call me Neil.”
Kaye looked over at him, and for a terrible moment he thought she was going to laugh. He just didn't want this boy calling him Corny. Corny, like he was King of the Dorks, like his very name announced how lame and tired and dull he was.
"I'm Luis," the boy said, oblivious, opening the door. "And this is my squat.”
"You squat here?" Kaye asked. "On the Upper West Side?”
Inside, the plaster walls were cracked, and chunks of debris covered the scuffed wooden floors. Wet brown stains soaked the ceiling in rings, and a tangle of wires inside the framing were visible in one corner.
Corny's breath clouded the air as though they were still outside. "More majestic than a trailer," he said. "But also oddly shittier.”
"How did you find this place?" Kaye asked.
Luis looked at Kaye. "Remember that faery my friend Val dueled with in the Unseelie Court?”
Kaye nodded. "Mabry. She had goat feet. Tried to kill Roiben. Your friend killed her.”
"This is Mabry's old place." Luis sighed and turned back to her. "Look, I don't want you talking to my brother. Faeries messed him up pretty bad. You leave him alone.”
"Sure," Corny said.
Luis led them into a parlor room furnished with overturned milk cartons and ripped-up sofas. A very thin black boy with dreads that stuck up from his head like spikes sat on the floor, eating jelly beans out of a cellophane bag. His features reminded Corny of Luis's, but there was an eerie hollowness around his eyes, and his mouth looked sunken and strange.
Kaye plopped herself onto the mustard plaid couch, sprawling against the cushions. The back was ripped, and stuffing tufted up from the torn cloth beside a stain that looked a lot like blood. Corny sat down next to her.
"Dave," Luis said. "Some people I'm helping out. They're going to stay the night. That doesn't mean we all need to get friendly—" A buzzing interrupted him. He stuck his hand into the pocket, pulling out his beeper. "Shit.”
"You can use my cell," Corny volunteered, and immediately felt like a sucker. What was he doing being nice to this guy?
Luis paused for a moment, and in the dim light his clouded eye looked blue. "There's a pay phone at the bodega on—" He interrupted himself. "Yeah, okay. I'd appreciate it.”
Corny stared a moment too long, then looked away, fumbling through his pockets. Dave narrowed his eyes.
Dialing, Luis walked out of the room.
Kaye leaned over to Corny and whispered, "What were you doing out there?”
"He sees through glamour," Corny whispered back. "I heard about him—he's been breaking faerie curses.”
She snorted. "No wonder he doesn't want humans knowing he's in bed with the Seelie Court. He's playing both sides. When he comes back, you should ask him about your hands.”
"What do you mean 'in bed'?" Dave asked. His voice was dry, like rustling paper. "What's my brother doing?”
"She doesn't mean anything," Corny said.
"How come we're not supposed to talk to you?" Kaye asked.
"Kaye," Corny warned.
"What?" Her voice was low. "Luis isn't here. I want to know.”
Dave laughed, hollow and bitter. "Always trying to be the big brother. He's trippin' if he thinks he can stop them from killing me.”
"Who wants to kill you?" Corny asked.
"Luis and I used to be delivery boys for a troll." Dave dumped a handful of jelly beans into his mouth and talked around the chewing. "Potions. Keep the iron sickness from getting to them. But if a person takes it—you know what you can do?”
Corny leaned forward, intrigued despite himself. "What?”
"Anything," Dave said. "All the shit they can do. All of it.”
There was a distant banging, like someone had come to the door. Kaye turned toward the doorway, wide-eyed.
A half-chewed licorice bean fell from Dave's mouth. "Sounds like my brother's going to be busy awhile. Did you know that drinking urine drives out faerie enchantments?”
"Nasty." Kaye made a face.
Dave wheezed with what might have been laughter. "Bet he's pissing in some cups right now.”
Kaye scrunched down in the sofa, kicking off her boots and putting her feet on Corny's lap. They smelled like the crushed stems of dandelions and he thought of dandelion milk covering his fingers, sticky and white, on a summer lawn years ago, while he pulled off flower heads and tossed them at his dozing sister. He was abruptly choked by grief.
"So wait," Kaye said. "Why do they want to kill you?”
"'Cause I poisoned a bunch of them. So I'm a dead man, but what good does it do to stay shut up in here while Luis tries to bargain for an extra week or two of boredom? At least I can have some fun with the time I got left." Dave grinned, but it looked more like a grimace, the skin on his cheeks pulled painfully tight. "Luis can tell me what to do all he wants, but he's going upstate this week. While the cat's away, the mouse'll finally get some play.”
Corny blinked hard, like the pressure of his eyelids could push back memories. "Wait," he said. "You murdered a bunch of faeries?”
"You think I didn't?" Dave asked.
"Hey!" Luis stood in the doorway. A Latina girl and an older woman stood behind him. "What are you doing?”
Corny circled one of Kaye's ankles with a gloved hand.
"I'll talk to whoever I want, " Dave said, standing up. "You think you're better than me, giving orders.”
"I think I know better than you," Luis said.
The girl turned toward Corny, and he saw that her arms and face were shadowed by something that looked like vines growing beneath her skin. Tiny smears of dried blood dotted where the points of thorns stuck up through her flesh.
"You don't know anything." Dave kicked a table, sending it crashing onto its side, and walked out of the room.
Luis turned toward Kaye. "If I hear—if he tells me you came anywhere near him," he shouted. "If you spoke to him—”
"Please," said the woman. "My daughter!”
"I'm sorry," Luis said, shaking his head, glancing at the door.
"What's wrong with her?" Corny asked.
"She sees these boys all the time hanging around the park," the woman told Corny. "They're pretty but they're trouble. Not human. One day they bother Lala and she insults them. Then this. Nothing in the botánica is helping.”
"You should both go wait in the other room,”
Luis said, rolling up the sleeves of his coat. "This is about to get messy.”
"I'm good here," Corny said, trying to seem unimpressed. He had several different fantasies of himself that he liked to trot out when he was feeling miserable. In one, he was the scary lunatic— the guy who was going to snap one day, get a high-powered rifle, and bury the bodies of all the people who'd wronged him, in a mass grave in the backyard. Then there was the misunderstood genius, the person whom everyone discounted but who triumphed in the end through his superior competence. And the most pathetic fantasy of all—that he had some secret mutant power he was always on the verge of discovering.
"I need her to lie down on the floor." Luis walked over to the tiny kitchen and came back with a crude knife. The woman's eyes never left the blade. "Cold iron.”
Luis actually had a secret power and was competent. That pissed Corny off. All he had was cursed hands.
"What's that for?" Lala asked.
Luis shook his head. "I won't cut you. I promise.”
The woman narrowed her eyes, but the girl seemed reassured and sank down onto the floor.
The vines squirmed under her skin, rippling as they shifted. Lala winced and cried out.
Kaye looked up at Corny and raised her eyebrows.
Luis crouched over Lala, straddling her slender body.
"He knows what to do, yes?" the woman asked Corny.
Corny nodded. "Sure.”
Luis reached into his pocket and scattered a white substance—maybe salt—over the girl's body. She bucked, screaming. The vines crawled like snakes.
"He's hurting her!" Lala's mother gasped.
Luis didn't even glance up. He threw another handful, and Lala shrieked. Her skin stretched and rippled away from the salt, up into her neck, choking her.
Her mouth opened, but instead of a sound, thorn-covered branches burst out, winding toward Luis. He slashed at them with his knife. The iron cut through the vines easily, but more came, splitting and curling like tentacles, grabbing for him.
Corny yelled, pulling his legs up onto the couch. Kaye stared in horror. Lala's mother's cries had become one long teakettle scream.
One branch wrapped around Luis's wrist, while others crawled toward his waist and writhed along the floor. The long thorns sank into his skin. Lala's eyes rolled back in her head, and her body convulsed. Her lips shone with blood.
Luis dropped the knife and wrapped his hands around the stems, ripping the brambles even as they coiled around his hands.
Corny lunged forward, grabbing the knife and cutting at the thorns.
"No, you idiot," Luis yelled. A knot of branches suddenly ripped free of Lala's mouth, wormlike white roots sliding out of her throat, glistening with saliva. The great vine blackened and shriveled.
Lala started to cough. The woman knelt by her, weeping and smoothing back the girl's hair.
Luis's arms were striped with scratches. He stood up and looked away as if dazed.
Lala's mother helped the girl to her feet and began to lead her toward the door. "Gracias, gracias," she muttered.
"Wait," Luis said. "I need to talk to your daughter for a minute. Without you.”
"I don't want to," Lala said.
The woman nodded. "Just quick. She's very tired now." She closed the door separating the hall from the room.
Luis looked at Lala. The girl swayed a little and caught herself by bracing her hand against the wall.
"What you told your mother," he asked, "that's not exactly what happened, is it?”
She hesitated, then shook her head.
"One of those boys gave you something to eat—maybe you just ate a little bit? Maybe just one seed?”
She nodded again, not meeting his eyes.
"But now you know better, right?" Luis asked her.
"Yes," she whispered, then fled to join her mother. Luis watched her go. Corny watched him watch her.
"Your pixie talked to my brother, didn't she?" he demanded, nodding to Kaye.
"What do you think?" Corny replied.
Luis yawned. "I think we're out of here as soon as possible. I'll show you where to sleep."
Corny arranged himself on the floor of mattresses spread out over what might have once been a dining room. Dave had already rolled himself into a shroud of blankets against the far wall, beneath what was left of a chair rail. Kaye staggered in from the parlor, curled herself around a throw pillow, and fell immediately into sleep. Luis lay down nearby.
Flexing his fingers, Corny watched the rubber tighten over his knuckles. Already the sheen had gone off the gloves. They might be brittle by morning. Carefully, he slid out one hand and touched the edge of Luis's duvet. The thin fabric tore, threads fraying, bleeding feathers. He watched them blow in the slight draft from the window, dusting everything like snow.
Luis turned in his sleep and feathers caught in his braids. One settled at the very corner of Luis's mouth, fluttering with each breath. It seemed like it would tickle. Corny wanted to brush it out of the way. His fingers twitched.
Luis's eyes slitted. "What are you looking at?”
"You drooling," Corny lied quickly. "It's disgusting.”
Luis grunted and rolled over.
Corny pulled his glove back on, heart beating so hard that he felt light-headed.
I like him, he thought in horror, the unfairness of that on top of everything else filling him with unfocused rage. Shit. I like him.
Kaye woke to sunlight streaming through large windows. Corny was sprawled beside her, snoring slightly. Somehow he had stolen all her blankets. Both Dave and Luis were gone.
Her mouth tasted stale, and she was so thirsty that she didn't think about where she was or why she was there until she went into the bathroom and gulped down several handfuls of water. It tasted of iron. Iron seemed to be everywhere, bubbling up from the pipes and sifting down from the ceiling.
Padding across the cold floors to try to find something to eat, Kaye heard a strange noise, like a purse upended. The smells of mildew were more intense now and she could feel her glamour being worn away. She looked down at her hand, green as a leaf. Heading in the direction of the noise, she came to the scavenged-sofa room, where a fire blazed in the grate.
A middle-aged man with short curly hair and an overstuffed messenger bag stood near the windows. As Kaye walked in, the man started to speak. But instead of sounds, copper coins fell from his lips to clatter and roll on the worn wooden floorboards.
Luis put his hand on the man's arm. "Did you do what I told you?" he asked, bending to pick up the pennies. "I know the metal tastes like blood, but you just got to do it.”
The man nodded and gestured wildly to his mouth.
"I told you, the cure was to eat your words. That means every single coin that came out of your mouth. You're telling me you did that?”
This time the man hesitated.
"You spent some, didn't you? Please, please tell me that you didn't go to CoinStar or some stupid shit like that.”
"Ugh," the man said, and pennies scattered.
"Go find the rest. It's the only way you're going to be cured." Luis crossed his arms over his chest, lean muscles showing through the thin fabric of his T-shirt and along his bare arms. "And no more deals with the folk.”
There were so many things Kaye didn't know about faeries.
The man looked like he wanted to say something, probably that he didn't appreciate being ordered around by some gangster, but he merely nodded as he took out his wallet. After counting out a stack of twenties, he gathered the coins on the floor and departed without a sign of thanks.
Luis tapped the bills against the palm of one hand as he turned to Kaye. "I told you to stay out of sight.”
"Something's happening to me," Kaye said. "My glamour's not working so good.”
Luis groaned. "You're telling me that he was looking at a green girl with wings?”
"No," she said. "It's just that it seems so much harder to keep up.”
"The iron in the city sucks up faerie magic quick," he said with a sigh. "That's why faeries don't live here if they have a choice. Only the exiled ones, the ones that can't go back to their own courts for whatever reason.”
"So why don't they join another court?" Kaye asked.
"Some do, I guess. But that's dangerous business—the other court's as likely to kill them as take them in. So they live here and let the iron eat away at them." He sighed again. "If you really need it, there's Nevermore—a potion—staves off the iron sickness. I can't get you any right now—”
"Nevermore?" Kaye asked. "Like 'quoth the raven'?”
"That's what my brother calls it." Luis shifted uncomfortably, smoothing back his braids. "In humans it bestows glamour—makes us almost like faeries. Gets us high. You're never supposed to use it more than once a day or more than two days in a row or more than a single pinch at a time. Never. More. Don't let your friend near it.”
"Oh. Okay." Kaye thought of Dave's haunted eyes and blackened mouth.
"Good. You ready to go?" Luis asked.
Kaye nodded. "One more question—have you ever heard of a curse where whatever someone touches withers?”
Luis nodded. "It's a King Midas variation. Whatever you touch turns to—fill in the blank. Gold. Shit. Jelly doughnuts. It's a pretty powerful curse." He frowned. "You'd have to be young and rash and really pissed off to toss all that power at a mortal.”
"So the King Midas—you know how to cure it?”
He frowned. "Salt water. King Midas walked out into a brackish river and let it wash away his curse. The ocean would be better, but it's basically the same principle. Anything with salt.”
Corny walked into the room, yawning hugely. "What's going on?”
"So, Neil," Luis said, his eyes going to Corny's gloves. "What happen? She curse you by accident?”
Corny looked blank for a moment, like the nickname had thrown him completely. Then his eyes narrowed. "Nope," he said. "I got cursed on purpose."