“How are you so calm?” I asked him. “You always have a plan, Ash. But there’s no good solution here. We’re going in blind, hoping that we can save this world, somehow.”

  “I would always prefer to have a plan,” Ash agreed. “Puck never stopped to think things through, and it got us into the stupidest situations. I try to avoid that, if possible.” A smirk crossed his face, before he sobered again. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned from being with you, it’s that, sometimes, hope is all we have. Against the Iron King, against Ferrum, against the Lady, and even Keirran. Even in the darkest moments, what carried us through wasn’t a grand plan or elaborate scheme, it was our faith in each other. That holds true here, as well.”

  I leaned into him, closing my eyes, and he drew me close. “I hope we can do this,” I whispered. “For everyone’s sake. For Keirran, and Nyx, and all the fey that are trapped in this dream. I hope, somehow, we can pull this off one more time.”

  “We can’t go back,” Ash murmured. “We can only go forward. I don’t know if it’s possible to save Evenfall, but I do know that we are all going to try. The first step is killing this Elder Nightmare and becoming strong enough to challenge the rest of them. Let’s concentrate on that, before we worry about the Nightmare King.”

  * * *

  “I don’t trust them.”

  I opened my eyes. I had found a chair in an isolated corner within the maze of shelves and had settled down with a book to pass the time, but I must’ve dozed off. Voices murmured somewhere in the labyrinth of aisles, though I couldn’t tell where they were coming from. I recognized Varyn’s low tone, however, which meant he was probably talking to Other Nyx.

  “They’re from the Nevernever,” the Evenfaery went on, the disgust in his voice evident. “They’re the same kind of fey as the Lady and her circle. Even if what Gilleas says is...is true...” He stumbled over the words, as if loath to say them out loud. “Even if this is just a dream, why should we trust the outsiders? They know nothing of life in Evenfall. You and I, we’ve seen the Nightmares, and what they do. Every day, we strive to keep our kin safe. We risk our lives fighting a war that we will never win. I’ve lost more brothers to the Nightmares than I want to remember. And now we have to keep these outsiders safe, in the hopes that they will somehow reach the Nightmare King and restore this world?” Varyn made a noise of contempt. “Even if they could, what’s to stop them from running off and leaving us the moment they see what a real Nightmare can do?”

  “Varyn.” Other Nyx’s voice was sympathetic. “I know you’re angry. Trust me, I know. I was there the night the Lady convinced the others to seal us away. Or...real me was, I guess.” Like Varyn, she faltered over the words, before continuing on. “That night,” she whispered, “I looked into the Lady’s eyes, and there was no remorse staring back at me. She was utterly dedicated to erasing us from existence. In her eyes, we were monsters. I don’t think these fey are the same.”

  “Real you,” Varyn muttered, and made another noise of disgust. “You are real to me, you know that, right? This other Nyx... I don’t recognize her at all. She served the Lady in the other world, and that did something, changed her somehow. I don’t know what happened to the rest of us in the Nevernever, where ‘other me’ went, but she’s hiding something. She and that Goodfellow both.” I could almost hear Varyn curling his lip at Puck’s name. “I don’t trust her,” he finished. “She is not the faery I fell in love with.”

  “I hope not.” Other Nyx sounded vaguely amused. “That would be rather awkward.”

  A short, almost surprised chuckle. “You are always so pragmatic.” Varyn sighed. “Nothing fazes you. Even when the world is unraveling around us.”

  “I’m not,” Other Nyx said. “You know that. I act calm because I must, as leader of this Order. Even when I’m faced with the impossible, I can’t afford to look weak.” I heard a rustle and assumed she’d leaned back against a bookshelf. “I admit, when I first saw her, in the ruins of the city, I thought she was a shadow. A memory or a piece of me, somehow bought into existence in the other world. But, as it turns out, I’m the shadow. We all are.

  “But this is our world,” Other Nyx went on before Varyn could protest. “This is the only life we’ve known for hundreds of years. I’ll do whatever it takes to save it, if it can be saved. Even if it means protecting the very fey who did this to us in the first place. If there is the slightest chance I can give Gilleas, the Order, you, everyone, back your lives, I will do whatever is required.”

  Varyn let out a long breath. “All right,” he said. “You win. I’ll try not to antagonize these strangers, even that Goodfellow.” His voice hardened, becoming dangerous again. “But if they betray us or leave us to fight the Wailing One alone, they won’t make it back to the Nevernever. I’ll make sure of that, personally.”

  I listened as Varyn and Other Nyx walked away, feeling a heavy weight settle in my stomach. Hundreds of years. For hundreds of years, they had been in Evenfall, living their lives. Fighting the Nightmares. This world, as terrible and horrific as it was, was real to them. We had to save it.

  Somehow.

  “Meghan?”

  Ash appeared, moving soundlessly into the aisle. Seeing me, the expression on my face, his eyes narrowed with concern, and he walked swiftly to my side.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked softly.

  “No. I’m all right,” I told him, and glanced back at the shelf. “Just...accidentally eavesdropping when I shouldn’t be.”

  “Oh?” He reached out and drew me close. “Discover anything good?”

  “Good? No.” I leaned into him, feeling his arms around me, and wished I could lie down and forget everything, even for a couple hours. “Varyn doesn’t trust us,” I muttered, “Puck doesn’t trust Varyn, and our Nyx is hiding something.” I shook my head. “Not a great way to start a journey together.”

  “Should we be concerned?”

  “If Nyx thought Varyn was truly a threat, she would tell us,” I responded. “At least, I hope she would. I’m guessing something happened between her and Varyn in the real world, but I don’t know how much it’s going to affect the mission.”

  “We’ll keep an eye on them,” Ash said, running his hands up my back. “But it’s not something that we can fix. The three of them are going to have to figure it out themselves.”

  A soft buzz interrupted us. I looked up to see one of the keepers had drifted down and was hovering a few feet away, watching us. Ash turned his head, and I could feel his vague amusement as the small fey twitched an antenna in our direction and gave another disapproving buzz.

  “Do you think it’s here to scold us about inappropriateness in the library?” I whispered to Ash, who gave a soft snort under his breath.

  “If it is, I don’t care,” he replied, not moving or letting me go. “You’re a queen and my wife, not a first date. It’s going to have to overlook a few things.”

  The keeper fluttered down and, after a slight hesitation and a glare at Ash, held a folded piece of paper out to me. I took it, and the tiny faery immediately flapped off, particles of glowing dust falling softly to the ground as it flitted away over a bookshelf and out of sight.

  I flipped open the note, scanning the lines of neat, extremely thin handwriting scrawled across the page.

  I have researched our quarry and have read all that the keepers can find on the subject, which sadly is not much. I believe I am ready to depart whenever you are. Meet me back at the central pillar, and I will share what I have learned.—Gilleas

  “All right.” I took a quick breath, and Ash’s grip tightened for a brief moment before he stepped away. “I guess it’s time to go.”

  * * *

  Gilleas was waiting for us at the center of the library as he’d said, his lean, shadowy form resembling a scar along the pillar. He held a book in his hand and was turning pages with one long talon, his deer skull head moving rhythmically back and forth as he read. As I walked up with Ash, the skull rose, hollow eye sockets fixing on me.

  “The Wailing One,” he said by way of greeting. “Not the oldest Nightmare, or the most powerful, but perhaps one of the most dangerous. This is going to be quite the endeavor for you all.”

  “We are up to the challenge,” said Other Nyx’s voice, and I realized she and Varyn were already there. They had our Nyx’s innate talent for blending into anything to remain unseen. “Nightmares, even named Nightmares, can be killed. We just have to be careful, and strategic, in our approach.”

  “Elder Nightmares care nothing for strategy,” Gilleas warned. “Some are unpredictable and beast-like. Some are eerily intelligent themselves.” He held up the book he was reading. “The Wailing One has garnered quite the reputation for driving fey mad and turning them into Nightmares without even touching them. I do hope, for your sake, that whatever strategy you employ is a sound one. There are no more Wishing Trees in Evenfall, and the jinn and their kind have gone extinct. Wishing is for fools, and blind hope is dangerous.”

  “It is better than the alternative,” Varyn broke in, frowning at Gilleas. “I will not sit here and wait for nonexistence. I would rather die having a fighting chance than wait for the king to wake up and for everything to disappear.”

  “I am not suggesting otherwise,” Gilleas said, the hollow pits of his eyes seeming to glare at Varyn. “I am merely pointing out that the Wailing One is not an opponent to take lightly, and that wishing for a happy outcome is a futile, fatal endeavor. We must face reality if we are going to succeed.”

  Varyn’s golden eyes narrowed, and he seemed ready to snap something in return, when a yelp sounded outside the aisle, drawing everyone’s attention.

  Nyx appeared, easing into view from the shadows and looking both amused and exasperated at the same time. It was obvious she was not the one we’d heard, as a moment later Puck stepped into the circle, ducking his head as a keeper fluttered by and hurled a pencil that lodged in his hair. “Ow, come on, stop it already,” he grumbled, pulling it free. “It’s not my fault you couldn’t find much. Dropping encyclopedias on my head seems a bit drastic.” A wadded-up paper ball came flying at his face, and he swatted it away. “All right, I get it! Not welcome in the library. That didn’t take long.”

  14

  BONE COLLECTORS AND PALE RIDERS

  We left Hollownest by a different way than we came in, following Other Nyx, Varyn, and the Order as they took us through the city streets and into another series of tunnels. This time, the passages were filled with huge, bulbous mushrooms that pulsed and throbbed like they had a heartbeat. Pale, glowing bulbs hung from the ceiling on thin green roots, and the air reeked of rot and decay. Farther off the path, strange forms could be seen below the fat mushroom stalks. They were covered in a carpet of slimy moss and flowers, but some of the lumps appeared as if figures were sleeping beneath the layer of fungus. It was hard to tell with the glowing lights and pulsating mushrooms, but sometimes they seemed to move.

  “Don’t poke those,” Gilleas warned Puck, who was reaching for one of the mushroom pods a few feet from the path. “Unless you want it to burst and cover you with spores. Which will not be pleasant, I assure you.”

  “Oh?” Puck grinned and gave the pod a sideways look. “Well, now I’m just curious.”

  “Go ahead, then,” Varyn said, waving an arm at the lumps beneath the mushrooms. “Put it to the test. See if it goes well for you.”

  “I would very much advise against that.” Gilleas glared at the assassin before glancing back at Puck. “The spores will put you into an endless slumber. You will fall asleep indefinitely, like those other ‘curious minds’ did, and the fungus and worms will feast on your blood until you’re nothing but a husk.”

  Puck pulled his arm back. “Yep, this place is horrible,” he announced. “I can’t wait to get aboveground again. Also, if a certain Scowly Faery tells you to do something, do the opposite. Good to know.”

  Varyn just smirked, unrepentant. Ahead of us, Other Nyx paused, gazing down a path that snaked into the forest of mushrooms and glowing lights. “We’ll have to pass through here,” she told us, making Puck wrinkle his nose. “Just don’t touch any plants, the mushrooms especially, and you’ll be fine. Single file is probably best. Just in case.”

  We did as she instructed. I was careful to keep my fingers clasped firmly in front of me and remain in the middle of the path. The mushrooms made low gurgling sounds as we walked beneath them. They smelled faintly of rotten meat. I was relieved when we left the forest of fungi and entered the narrow dirt-and-stone passageways again.

  After an indefinite amount of time walking through claustrophobia-inducing tunnels, Other Nyx stopped at a wooden ladder outlined in hazy light filtering down from a distant circle of open air, high overhead.

  “The well is still intact,” she murmured, gazing toward the ceiling. “Good. This should take us to the surface.”

  “Interesting choice,” Gilleas mused, also peering up at the distant hole. “Doesn’t this lead to the Rattling Wood?”

  “Yes, but it’s the closest exit from the underground,” Other Nyx replied. “And the Rattling Wood isn’t dangerous anymore, since he is no longer there.”

  “He?” Ash wondered.

  “There was a faery who used to live there,” Gilleas explained, “who could make travel through the forest...interesting. There is a reason it is called the Rattling Wood.”

  “Hey, I don’t care if we’re going to a place called Slaughter Woods or the Forest of Exploding Faces.” Puck swiftly moved to the ladder. “As long as we’re getting out of here. No offense, but I’ve hit my creepy-crawly limit for the next millennium.”

  * * *

  “Ah, fresh air at last,” Puck exclaimed once we had climbed out of the well. Straightening, he put his arms over his head and stretched with a yawn. “It’s so nice not to have dirt and bugs hanging over my head or falling into my hair.” He looked up, his smile fading as he gazed around. “Even if we did land in a dark, spooky...unfriendly-looking...forest. There are skull trees over there. And the well is made of bones. Where exactly are we, now?”

  I tried not to shiver as I climbed over the edge of the well, which was indeed made of old yellow bones. A forest stretched out around us, quiet and foreboding. The trunks and branches were made of skulls, stacked on top of each other and held in place by a mysterious force. Glistening red vines dangled from the tree canopy, tangled with bones and more skulls. My feet hit the ground and sank a little into a pink, spongy substance that looked like packed intestines. Red blades of grass grew in clumps through the forest; I brushed against one and felt a stinging sensation as the grass sliced open my pant leg and left a paper-thin gash across my calf.

  “Avoid touching the grass, if you can,” Other Nyx warned a second too late. “The trees are harmless, but the grass will take the skin off your ankles if you’re not careful.”

  “Welcome to the Rattling Wood,” Varyn added with a hard smile. “One of the safer places in the Sunken Lands, if you can believe it.” A transparent skull, lit with green flame, floated out of the trees and drifted past his head. I tensed, but the Evenfey barely reacted. “At least we shouldn’t run into the Bone Collector.”

  That didn’t sound pleasant, whatever it was. “I take it the Bone Collector is who you were talking about earlier,” I said. “Is this another Nightmare?”

  Other Nyx shook her head. “No, but if he was, I think I would rather attempt to take on the Wailing One. The Bone Collector is an Evenfaery. Legends say he killed so many faeries and creatures, he built a forest from the bones of his victims. This entire area—” she gestured to the trees around us “—is his work.”

  “Oh,” Puck remarked. “Well, that’s not disturbing at all. And what lovely landscaping—does he have a business card? I can think of several fey in the wyldwood who would love to have him as a gardener.”

  “Business card,” Varyn repeated, frowning. “What is that?”

  An exasperated feline sigh came from an old stump, and Grimalkin suddenly appeared. “I advise you to ignore at least eighty percent of what comes out of Goodfellow’s mouth,” he said. “That is what the rest of us have learned to do.”

  Puck sniffed and glanced at our Nyx. “I just don’t get any respect.”

  The faintest of smiles crossed the Evenfaery’s lips, which was good to see. I didn’t know what had happened between her and Puck in the library, but she did seem more or less back to normal. I worried for her, as I did everyone, but if anyone could bring her back to her old self, it would be Puck.

  Ash looked at Varyn and Other Nyx. “So, if we do run into this Bone Collector, will it be a fight?”

  “No.” Other Nyx shook her head. “The Bone Collector is gone. He is a very old Evenfaery, and it would be dangerous to run into him, but he hasn’t been seen in centuries.”

  I didn’t answer, relieved and secretly thinking that the constant terror and horrifying landscapes of Evenfall were beginning to wear on me. While it was true that the Nevernever had its share of scary, traumatizing places, it could also be stunningly beautiful. I missed the sunlight of Arcadia, the frozen beauty of Tir Na Nog, and the surreal twilight of the wyldwood. And of course, I missed the Iron Realm. I missed Mag Tuiredh and the Iron palace and all the strange and wonderful fey who called the Iron Realm their home. I knew beauty was in the eye of the beholder, but I wondered if there were any places in Evenfall that were not completely and utterly terrifying.

  We started through the Rattling Wood, following a narrow trail that avoided most of the grass clusters, though walking on the soft, squishy ground wasn’t pleasant. As the forest’s name suggested, every time a faint breeze came through, the trees would rattle, branches and skulls clattering in the wind. The small, glowing green skulls floating through the branches trailed us down the paths, chattering softly. Gilleas and Other Nyx told us to ignore them, though we soon attracted a swarm of incorporeal skulls, zipping through the air around us. They reminded me of will-o’-the-wisps, glowing balls of light that would lead travelers off the path to become lost in the forest or swamps. These seemed a bit more persistent, chittering in our ears as they followed us down the trail, but like will-o’-the-wisps, they eventually became bored with the lack of attention and drifted off into the trees.