“I take it nothing else lives in these woods?” Keirran asked Gilleas, deftly avoiding a clump of razor grass poking through the path we were on. The Evenfaery shook his antlered head.

  “No, the fear of the Bone Collector is too strong, even now. No one dares to venture into the Rattling Wood—there are stories that even the Nightmares avoid it.”

  “Gee, I wonder why,” Puck said, making a great show of gazing around. “I mean, look at this lovely flesh mound with all the bone spines poking up from it. Who wouldn’t see that and think, wow, that’s something I would really love to... Oh, geez, it’s moving. It’s moving!”

  The earth trembled, skulls and branches rattling like mad, as the mound shifted and rose up, sloughing away from the giant form beneath. A creature emerged, bulky and skeletal at the same time, a hulking mass of raw flesh and exposed bone, its face gaunt and terrifying. Its claws were like sickles, its hunched back crowned with bony protrusions, and two pinpricks of orange light glimmered through the dark holes of its eyes.

  “Pardon me,” a deep, guttural voice intoned as the monster loomed over us. The politeness of the phrase coming from such a huge, terrifying creature startled me. “I don’t mean to be rude, but is that magic I smell?”

  “Bone Collector.” Gilleas took a step back, his voice breathless and alarmed. “The stories say you Faded.”

  “No.” The creature waved a bony claw. “My apologies. Not Faded. Just asleep. The world had become...boring. Hunting had lost all meaning. The Nightmares... I could kill them, and I did, but what was the point? They have no bones, no blood, no fear or awe or terror. I grew weary of killing Nightmares. Nor did I wish to hunt my fellow Evenfey. That would make me just like them, wouldn’t it?” The monster sighed, huge shoulders slumping in tired resignation. “So, I decided to sleep. Lose myself in oblivion for a bit. Perhaps when I woke up, the world would be different. I see it is not different, but there is something present that was not here before.”

  Its gaunt face swung toward us, away from the Evenfey, and the orange pinpricks of its eyes gleamed as they focused on me. “Please excuse my rudeness,” it said, “but you are not Evenfey. I remember the smell of human. I remember what magic smells like. And you...three of you—” it corrected itself, glancing at Ash and Keirran now as well “—smell of both. Which means you are more than shadows and glamour.” It raised one pointed talon and scratched the side of its face. “Am I correct in assuming you have come from...oh, what was the name again? The Nevernever?”

  “Yes,” I breathed, as the monster tilted its head at me. “We have come from the Nevernever. We’re trying to undo what the Lady caused when she sealed Evenfall away from the rest of the world.” I did not tell it that this world was only a dream. If this huge creature took the news poorly, I did not want to see what would come of it.

  The Bone Collector pondered that. “And where are you headed now, on this quest to save the world you doomed?” it asked candidly.

  “To the Wailing One,” Other Nyx replied. “A named Elder Nightmare.”

  “Ah, yes.” The Bone Collector nodded. “If you slay it, you will absorb its glamour and make yourselves more powerful. A sound first step.” It tilted its head the other way. “But that means that you have no magic now, correct?”

  “We have enough to defend ourselves,” Varyn said, his voice hard. The Bone Collector took a step back, clasping its talons together like two battling spiders.

  “Oh, dear. It appears I have made everyone uncomfortable. My apologies. It was not my intent to frighten or offend. I do intend to kill you all, but I would much rather be polite and up-front about it.”

  Now everyone tensed. Hands dropped to weapons, and moonlight blades appeared in the hands of both Nyxes. The Bone Collector sighed again.

  “Oh, come now. It’s not so bad.” The Bone Collector’s demeanor was perfectly polite and nonthreatening, which somehow made it ten times worse. “Once I get started, it does not even hurt that much. The worst part will be when I tear your spines out through your backs, but it really is over in an eyeblink.”

  “Yeah, sorry, but I’m rather partial to my spine,” Puck said, taking a step back with his daggers in hand. “It’s one of my favorite bones. Next to my ribs and my skull and my pelvis and...well, all of them, really.”

  “Mm, I do enjoy a good pelvis,” the Bone Collector mused.

  “Bone Collector.” Keirran stepped forward, unafraid as that gaunt face swung around to him. “If you kill us here, there will be none that come after,” he told the monster. “We will be the last. And then, there will be another eternity of nothing, or the king will wake up and everything will Fade. But if we leave this place, if we can reach the king, we have a chance to save Evenfall.”

  The Bone Collector made a guttural, scraping sound that I realized was a chuckle. “Save Evenfall,” it repeated. “Forgive me, I mean no offense, but if I remember correctly, it was the fey of the Nevernever who decided that we no longer deserved to exist.”

  “So, this is revenge,” Ash said. The Bone Collector waved his claw.

  “Oh, goodness, no. Please do not get the wrong idea. I am not going to kill you out of vengeance. Revenge is such a distasteful motive, don’t you agree? No, this is just...it has been so long since I have had the chance to create anything. Since strangers who are neither Nightmare nor Evenfey crossed into my forest. This is nothing personal, believe me.” Raising its head, it nodded to Other Nyx, Varyn, and Gilleas, standing tensely to the side. “You may go,” he told them. “As I said before, I do not hunt my own. And you...” It glanced at our Nyx with a puzzled frown. “You are...different. But you are also Evenfey. You may go, as well. Or you can stay and watch. I do recommend you leave, however. The deboning process can be...unsettling.”

  Nyx didn’t hesitate. “No,” she said, and strode to Puck’s side, moonlight blades still in hand. “You want the Nevernever fey, you fight me, as well.”

  “And me,” Other Nyx chimed in. Varyn didn’t echo her words. In fact, he seemed more than inclined to let the Bone Collector fight us, but once Other Nyx spoke, he moved close to her, weapons at the ready. “The Order stands with the fey of the Nevernever,” Other Nyx told the monster. “You attack them, you fight us all.”

  “Hmm.” The Bone Collector regarded us curiously, seemingly undisturbed. “What an unexpected wrinkle this is,” it said. “And you are certain I cannot convince you otherwise? What of you?” he asked Gilleas, still waiting a few feet from the rest of the group, as if hoping to be overlooked and ignored. “Do you also stand with these outsiders? These interlopers to our lands? These fey who are not like us?”

  Gilleas sighed. “We are all fey,” he said in a weary voice. “The Nevernever. Evenfall. The Deep Wyld. The Dreaming Dark. They are all part of Faery. We were born from mortal dreams, and we die if we are forgotten. A long time ago, a group of fey tried to separate us. They made us outsiders. They made us ‘other.’ They used that as a justification to make us disappear. And we suffered greatly for it. These fey—” he turned his naked skull in our direction “—are trying to do the opposite. They heard what the Lady and her circle did all those years ago, and rather than pretend we don’t exist, they came into our world to set things right. They are trying to bring Evenfall and the Nevernever together again.” His raspy voice grew sharper, almost hissing. “And it is very difficult to accomplish this when certain faeries who shall remain nameless decide that, rather than giving them a chance to correct the past, they would rather flay them alive because they are bored.”

  “Ah.” The Bone Collector took a step back. I couldn’t be certain, but its gaunt face and hulking posture looked almost chastened. “That is an excellent point, I will admit. I do miss my creations, though.” It studied us thoughtfully. “Such beautiful bone structures—it would be a shame to let them go to waste. Are you sure these outsiders can even accomplish what they say they are going to do? I have fought Nightmares before. They are fearsome foes, and no offense, but you are all, shall we say, vertically challenged?” An almost affectionately amused look crept over the skeletal face, which was both odd and terrifying. “None of you are very big, is what I am trying to say.”

  “Size does not always equal strength,” Ash said, his body positioned in front of me and the looming Bone Collector. “There are many tales of the small bringing down giants and dragons.”

  “Yes,” echoed Varyn, still standing protectively beside Other Nyx. Though of the two of them, I was almost sure she was the more lethal fighter. “It is dangerous to underestimate your opponent, no matter their size.”

  “You don’t say.” The Bone Collector drummed long talons against its leg. “A group of magic-less fey against one me, hmm. Quite frankly, I am tempted to put that theory to the test. However...” it went on, and gave a long, almost sulky sigh. “Your friend with the beautiful skull does make a compelling argument. I suppose I can let you go, with all your lovely bones still intact. Unless one of you would like to make a donation?” it added, looking hopeful. “I’m sure there are parts you don’t need, or use as often? A rib? A vertebra? I’ll even take a toe or a finger—you have ten of them. Surely you can spare a couple.”

  “Ah, no, no I’m pretty attached to all my toes,” Puck said. “And they’re quite attached to me. I’d like to keep it that way.”

  The Bone Collector pouted. “Oh, well.” It sighed. “That’s unfortunate, though it is what I expected. No one wants to give up their bones, it seems. A pity. They are so beautiful, to be hidden away behind flesh and blood.” It sniffed, then took a lurching step back, tipping an imaginary hat with its long, pointed claws. “Well, if you will excuse me, then. Not to be rude, but I think I will be going back to sleep now. Have a good trip to the Wailing One’s keep. You will start to hear her from the edges of the forest. On bad days, that shrill voice penetrates my dreams.”

  “You could come with us,” I offered, making Puck blink at me. I ignored him. The Bone Collector might have been grotesque and terrifying, but I sensed he was strong. And despite his appearance and disturbing appetite for bones, he seemed like a faery that was trustworthy...once he had decided not to kill you. “Help us fight and kill the Elder Nightmare. We would share a portion of the magic with you.”

  But the Bone Collector shook his head. “I am tired,” it said. “And killing Nightmares has no appeal for me anymore. I was hoping to wake up and find the world as it had been. But except for you strangers, nothing has changed in Evenfall. Only now, I hear rumors that the king is starting to stir. If this is true, if he does wake up and the Nightmares cease, I would rather drift quietly into oblivion without knowing it.

  “Maybe you can save us,” it continued, giving me a strange, sad smile that was both chilling and heartbreaking. “Maybe you will find the way to bring us back to the Nevernever and the rest of Faery. Until then, I will dream of the day where Evenfall is whole once more. So, goodbye, and good luck. Perhaps one day we will meet again, and you will not be quite as attached to your bones as you are right now.”

  And with that, the huge Bone Collector turned and lumbered away into the trees. I watched as it shambled back to the hole it had left in the earth, stepped into the shallow crater, and sank to the ground, folding in on itself like a marionette being put back in a box. As it did, the spongy, glistening earth around the hole began to shift and rise, seeming to flow upwards, until it had covered the hulking Bone Collector once more. Only its spine poked out of the ground, bony protrusions jutting into the air, as they had when we first saw it. Within a few seconds, the ancient faery had disappeared, sinking back into the earth to return to sleep, and we were alone again.

  “Well,” said Grimalkin’s voice. “How unexpected. I thought that at least one of you would end up bartering away a finger to leave this place without a fight. It seems even the Bone Collector is weary of existing in Evenfall. Or should I say, even the Dream is growing weary.”

  “You could’ve stuck around this time, Furball,” Puck said, frowning at the cait sith. “I thought this kind of bargaining crap was your favorite thing. Or was the big scary Bone Collector too much even for you?”

  Grimalkin sniffed. “My bones were in no danger, Goodfellow. Perhaps next time you could accept the offer and donate your bottom jaw? That would be quite good for everyone.”

  Varyn laughed, making Puck scowl even more. “Oh, hilarious, Furball. You only think your bones are in no danger.”

  Gilleas shook his head. “Come,” he rasped, taking a step back from the looming mound that was the Bone Collector. “It is quite the distance to the edge of the wood, and we still have a long journey after that.”

  “How long?” Keirran asked, looking faintly confused. “The Bone Collector told us it could hear the Wailing One’s voice in its dreams.”

  “Yes,” Gilleas said gravely. “I am not surprised it could.” At Keirran’s continued puzzled look, he raised one shoulder in a shrug. “You will see what I mean when we get there.”

  * * *

  We began hearing the voice not long after.

  The Rattling Wood was never completely silent. Even a faint breeze could set the branches and dangling skulls chattering like grotesque wind chimes. In a stronger wind, the noise was almost deafening, hundreds of skulls clacking their jaws in a parody of laughter. As was often the case in Faery, there were several instances where I thought I heard my name being called through the clamorous racket.

  But then, as the trees began to thin and the ground under my feet grew slowly firmer, I did start to hear a voice. Faint at first, barely a whisper through the sound of rattling bones. Sometimes it grew louder, sometimes it faded away altogether. But the farther we traveled, the clearer it became. There were no words. No names being called. No threats or vows of revenge. Just a constant, breathless sobbing, punctuated by high-pitched wails or moans.

  “Man, someone is seriously unhappy,” Puck muttered. “Did anyone think to bring any earplugs?” He raised both hands and pointed his fingers at the sides of his head. “If not, it’s okay. I’ll just shove a dagger through my ear canals.”

  “I take it that’s the Wailing One.” Keirran shivered, his eyes haunted. “It sounds like she’s in agony. How can her voice carry this far? I can barely hear it, and it still feels like someone is raking their nails across the inside of my skull.”

  “That is the nature of the Wailing One,” Gilleas told him. He raised his head, listening as the faint cries carried through the swaying branches. “She is not subtle. You can hear her misery for miles. Sadly, it will only get worse the closer we get to Howling Keep.”

  “Tell us about this Nightmare,” Ash said. “I would have studied it myself, had I known what to look for. What are its strengths? Does it have any weaknesses? The more we know about our enemy, the better chance we’ll have.”

  Gilleas seemed pleased with his statement, for he gave Ash a respectful nod. “Ah, yes. Someone who appreciates the fine art of research. I wish more had your insight, and the patience to study a subject before confronting it.”

  “We would,” Other Nyx said in a flat voice, “but someone keeps shooing us out of the library and asking why we’re not out protecting the city.”

  “Yes, well.” Gilleas sniffed and chose not to answer that. “The Wailing One,” he went on, turning to Ash again. “The Wailing One is a very old Nightmare. Some say she is one of the first Elder Nightmares to walk Evenfall. Just like us, the Nightmares grow more powerful when they are named, when they are remembered, and when stories are told about them. In the long ages that Evenfall has been sealed away, her stories have grown. One of the more common legends is that the Wailing One is the Nightmare King’s great grief, his terrible sorrow at what Evenfall had become, and his regret that he was unable to save his people. The legend goes on to say that, as long as we can hear her, the king still grieves for us and Evenfall.

  “Howling Keep is the Wailing One’s territory,” Gilleas continued. “It lies at the top of the Soulshard Cliffs, and it will be a dangerous journey to even reach the castle at the top. The area is swarming with smaller Nightmares, and even a few Elders. But the most dangerous of all is the Wailing One, who waits at the top of the keep. Whose cries of rage and sorrow can be heard for miles in every direction.”

  “Sounds like a blast,” Puck muttered. “Really wishing I had earplugs now.”

  * * *

  The Rattling Woods eventually came to an end, and what lay beyond the forest of bones and chattering skulls took me by surprise. Rolling plains spread out before us, with honest-to-God grass sweeping across the surface. No bones, no bodies, no silhouettes of roaming Nightmares against the horizon. The strangest things were the dozens, maybe hundreds, of broken stone statues scattered everywhere in the grass. Not small figures, either; these monuments were enormous. A hand that was twice as big as I was jutted out from a slope, fingers pointing toward the sky. A titan face lay half-buried in the grass, its expression twisted into a mask of either grief or rage. Overhead, the sky was a strange silvery blue, a crescent moon shining through wisps of ragged clouds that curled across the sky like wraiths.