“You never said anything,” I murmured as her trembling subsided, trying not to make it sound like an accusation. “You didn’t tell me you had a sister.”

A shaky little laugh. “You didn’t seem particularly open to listening, tough guy,” she whispered back. “Besides, what could we do about it? You were already trying to get us out as fast as you could. Me whining about my home life wasn’t going to speed anything up.”

“Why didn’t you go back this afternoon?” I pulled back to look at her. “Meghan offered to take you home. You could’ve gone back to your family.”

“I know.” Kenzie sniffed, wiping her eyes. “And I wanted to. But…we came here together, and I wouldn’t have gotten this far…without you.” She dropped her head, speaking quietly, almost a whisper. “I’m fully aware that you’ve saved my life on more than one occasion. With all the weirdness and faery cats and bloodthirsty snake monsters and everything else, I would’ve been dead if I had to do this by myself. It wouldn’t be right, going back alone. And besides, I still have a lot to see here.” She looked up at me then, her eyes wide and luminous in the shadows of the room. Her cheeks were tinged with color, though she still spoke clearly. “So, either we get out of here together, or not at all. I’m not leaving without you.”

We stared at each other. Time seemed to slow around us, the moonlight freezing everything into a cold, silent portrait. Kenzie’s face still glimmered with tears, but she didn’t move. Heart pounding, I gently brushed a bright blue strand from her eyes, and she slid a cool hand up to my neck, soft fingers tracing my hairline. I shivered, unsure if I liked this strange, alien sensation twisting the pit of my stomach, but I didn’t want it to stop, either.

What are you doing, Ethan? a voice whispered in my head, but I ignored it. Kenzie was watching me with those huge, trusting brown eyes, solemn and serious now, waiting. My heart contracted painfully. I didn’t deserve that trust; I knew I should pull away, walk out, before this went too far.

A loud tap on the window made us both jump apart. Rising, I glared out the one open window, where a silver-headed face peered in curiously.

Kenzie yelped, leaping up, and I grabbed her arm. “It’s all right!” I told her, as she looked at me in shock. “I know him. He’s…here to help.”

“Help?” Kenzie repeated, glaring at the fey boy, who waved at her through the glass. “Looks more like spying to me. What does he want?”

“I’ll tell you in a second.”

I opened the balcony doors, and Keirran ducked into the room. “So,” the faery said, smiling as he came in, “Here we all are. I thought something might’ve happened to you, but if I’d known what was going on, I wouldn’t have interrupted.” His gaze slid to Kenzie, and his smile widened. “And you must be Kenzie,” he said, walking over and taking her hand. But instead of shaking it, he brought her fingers to his lips, and she blushed. I stiffened, tempted to stride over and yank him away, but he dropped her hand before I could move. “My name’s Keirran,” he said in that soft, confident voice, and I noticed Kenzie gazing up at him with a slightly dazed look on her face. “Has Ethan told you the plan yet?”

Kenzie blinked, then glanced at me, confused. “What plan?”

I stepped between them, and the faery retreated with a faintly amused look. “We’re leaving,” I told her in a low voice. “Now. We don’t have time for Meghan to decide to send us home—we have to find Todd now. Keirran says he knows a way out of the Nevernever. He’s taking us back to the mortal world.”

“Really?” Kenzie shot the fey boy a look, but it was more of curiosity than distrust. “Are you sure?”

The faery bowed. “I swear on my pointed ears,” he said, before straightening with a grin. “But, like you said, we should leave now. While most of the castle is asleep.” He gestured out the window. “The trod isn’t far. We’ll just have to get to it without anyone seeing us. Come on.”

I snatched my weapons, gave Kenzie a reassuring nod, and together we followed the faery out the balcony doors onto the veranda. The night air was cool, and the silver moon seemed enormous, hovering so close I could practically see craters and ridges lining the surface. Below us, the garden was quiet, though the moonlight still glinted off the armor of several knights stationed throughout the perimeter.

Kenzie peered over the ledge, then drew back quickly. “There are so many guards,” she whispered, looking back at Keirran. “How are we going to make it through without anyone seeing us?”

“We’re not going that way,” Keirran replied, hopping lightly onto the railing. He gazed up at the roof of the palace, at the great spires and towers lancing toward the sky. Putting two fingers to his lips, he blew out a soft whistle.

A knotted rope flew down from one of the towers, uncoiling in midair, dropping toward us with a faint hiss. Keirran glanced back at me and grinned.

“Hope you’re not afraid of heights.”

Even with a rope, it was difficult to scale the walls of the Iron Queen’s palace. This high up, most of them were sheer metal or glass, making it hard to get a foothold. Keirran, unsurprisingly, moved like a squirrel or a spider, scrambling from ledge to ledge with the obnoxious natural grace of his kind. I had a hard time keeping up, and Kenzie struggled badly, though she never made a sound of complaint. We rested when we could, perched on narrow shelves that gave a stunning view of the city at night. Mag Tuiredh sparkled below us, a glittering carpet of lights and polished edges that reflected the moon. Even I had to admit, Meghan’s kingdom was strangely beautiful under the stars.

“Come on,” Keirran said encouragingly from a ledge above us. “We’re almost there.”

Heaving myself up the last wall, I turned and reached over the edge, pulling Kenzie up behind me. Her arms trembled as she took my hand and dragged herself onward, but as she reached the top, her legs gave out and she collapsed.

I caught her as she sagged against me, backing away from the edge. She shivered in my arms, her heart beating way too fast, her skin pale and cold. Wrapping my arms around her, I turned so that my body was between her and the slicing wind, feeling her delicate frame pressed against mine. Her fingers tangled in my shirt, and I wondered if she could feel the pounding beneath her palm.

“Sorry,” Kenzie whispered, pulling away, standing on her own. She still kept a slender hand on my chest to steady herself, a tiny spot of warmth in the cold. “I guess a career in rock climbing isn’t in my future.”

“You don’t have to do this,” I told her gently, and she gave me a warning look. “You can stay here, and Meghan will send you back home—”

“Don’t make me push you off this roof, tough guy.”

Shaking my head, I followed her across a narrow rooftop flanked by a pair of towers, the wind whipping at our hair and clothes. Keirran stood a few feet away, talking to what looked like three huge copper and brass insects. Their “wings” looked like the sails on a hang glider, and their long dragonfly bodies were carried on six shiny jointed legs that gleamed in the cold light. As we stared, the creatures’ heads turned in our direction, their eyes huge and multifaceted. They buzzed softly.

“These,” Keirran said, smiling as he turned back to us, “are gliders. They’re the quickest and easiest way to get out of Mag Tuiredh without being seen. You just have to know how to avoid the air patrols, and luckily, I’m an expert.” He scratched one glider on the head as if it was a favorite dog, and the thing cooed in response.

Standing beside me, Kenzie shuddered. “We’re flying out of here on giant bugs?” she asked, eyeing the gliders as if they might swarm her any second.

“Be nice,” Keirran warned. “They get their feelings hurt easily.”

“Master!”

A different sort of buzz went through the air then, and a second later, something small, dark and fast zipped by us, leaping at Keirran with a shrill cry. Keirran winced but didn’t move, and the tiny creature landed on his chest, a spindly, bat-eared monster with eyes that flashed electric green. Kenzie jumped and pressed closer to me, whispering: “What is that?”

“That’s a gremlin,” I answered, and she stared at me. “Yeah, it’s exactly what you think it is. You know those sudden, unexplainable glitches when something just breaks, or when your computer decides to crash? Say hello to what causes it.”

“Not all of them,” Keirran said mildly, as the tiny fey scrabbled to his shoulders, buzzing madly. “Give some credit to the bugs and the worms, too.” He held up a hand. “Razor, calm down. Say hi to our new friends.”

The gremlin, now perched on Keirran’s arm, turned to stare at us with blazing green eyes and started crackling like a bad radio station.

“They can’t understand you, Razor,” Keirran said mildly. “English.”

“Oh,” said the gremlin. “Right.” It grinned widely, baring a mouthful of sharp teeth that glowed neon-blue. “Hiiiiiiii.”

“He knows French and Gaelic, too,” Keirran said, as Razor cackled and bounced on his shoulder. “It’s surprisingly simple to teach a gremlin. People just underestimate what they’re capable of.”

Before we could say anything about this bizarre situation, Keirran plucked the gremlin off his shoulder and tossed it on the glider, where it scrambled to the front and peered out eagerly. “Shall we get going?” he asked, and the glider’s wings fluttered in response. “Gliders are easy to control,” he continued with absolute confidence, while I gave him a look that implied the exact opposite. “Steer them by pulling on their front legs and shifting your weight from side to side. They’ll basically do the rest. Just watch me and do what I do.”

He stepped to the edge of the roof and spread his arms. Instantly, the glider picked its way across the roof and crawled up his back, curling its legs around his chest and stomach. He glanced back at us and winked.