“And they are…?”
“Don’t ask,” Kaye said, taking a sip of the tea and shaking her head. “I was so drunk, Corny. I don’t ever want to be that drunk again.”
“Sorry…. Go on.”
“These faeries told me about the declaration thing. They were kind of—I don’t know—bragging, I guess. Anyway, Roiben told me I had to stay in the audience for the ceremony, and I kept thinking about how I didn’t fit in and how maybe he was disappointed, you know? I thought that maybe he secretly wished I knew more of their customs—maybe he wished I would do something like that before he had to send someone else on a quest.”
Corny frowned. “What? A quest?”
“A quest to prove your love.”
“So dramatic. And you did this declaration thing? You declared.”
Kaye turned her face, so that he couldn’t read her expression. “Yeah, but Roiben wasn’t happy about it, as in not at all.” She put her head in her hands. “I think I really fucked up.”
“What’s your quest?”
“To find a faery that lies.” Her voice was very low.
“I thought faeries couldn’t lie.”
Kaye just looked at him.
Suddenly, horribly, Corny understood her meaning. “Okay, hold on. You are saying that he sent you on a quest that you couldn’t possibly complete.”
“And I’m not allowed to see him again until I do complete it. So basically, I’m not going to see him ever again.”
“No faery can tell an untruth. That is why it is one of the nice quests given to put off a declarer—no endless labor,” said Lutie suddenly. “There are others, like ‘Siphon all the salt from all the seas.’ That’s a nasty one. And then there are the ones that seem impossible, but might not be, like ‘Weave a coat of stars.’”
Corny moved onto the bed next to Kaye, dislodging Lutie from his knee. “There has to be a way. There has to be something you can do.”
The little faery fluttered in the air, then settled in the lap of a large porcelain doll. She curled up and yawned.
Kaye shook her head. “But, Corny, he doesn’t want me to finish the quest.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“You heard what Lutie just said.”
“It’s still bullshit.” Corny kicked at a stray pillow with his toe. “What about seriously stretching the truth?”
“That’s not lying,” Kaye said, taking a deep swig out of the mug.
“Say that the tea is cold. Just try. Maybe you can lie if you push yourself.”
“The tea is…,” Kaye said, and stopped. Her mouth was still open, but it was as though her tongue were frozen.
“What’s stopping you?” Corny asked.
“I don’t know. I feel panicked and my mind starts racing, looking for a safe way to say it. I feel like I’m suffocating. My jaw just locks. I can’t make any sound come out.”
“God, I don’t know what I would do if I couldn’t lie.”
Kaye flopped back down. “It’s not so bad. You mostly can make people believe things without actually lying.”
“Like how you made your grandmother believe I was with you last night?”
He noticed that she wore a small smile as she took the next sip from the cup.
“Well, what if you said you were going to do something and didn’t? Wouldn’t that be lying?”
“I don’t know,” Kaye said. “Isn’t that like saying something that you think is true, but turns out not to be? Like something you read in a book, but the book turns out to be wrong.”
“Isn’t that still lying?”
“If it is, I guess I’m in good shape. I sure have been wrong about things.”
“Come on, let’s go to the city. You’ll feel better when you get out of town. I know I always do.”
Kaye smiled, then sat bolt upright. “Where’s Armageddon?”
Corny glanced at the cage, but Kaye was already shuffling toward it on her knees.
“He’s there. Oh, jeez. They’re both there.” She sighed deeply, her whole body relaxing. “I thought he might still be under the hill.”
“You brought your rat?” Corny asked, incredulous.
“Can we just not talk any more about last night?” Kaye asked, pulling on a pair of faded green camouflage pants.
“Yeah, sure,” Corny said, and yawned. “Want to stop for breakfast on the way? I’m feeling like pancakes.”
With a queasy look, Kaye began to gather up her things.
On the drive up, Kaye put her head down on the ripped plastic seat, gazing out the window at the sky, trying not to think. The strips of sound-insulating forest cushioning the highway gave way to industrial plants spouting fire and billowing white smoke that blew up until it blended into clouds.
When they got to the part of Brooklyn her mother claimed was still Williamsburg, but was probably actually Bedford-Stuyvesant, the traffic grew less congested. The roads were riddled with potholes, the asphalt cracked and pitted. The streets were deserted and the sidewalks heaped with banks of dirty snow. Only a few cars were parked on the sides of the road, and as soon as Corny pulled up behind one, Kaye opened the door and stepped out. It was strangely lonely.
“You okay?” Corny asked.
Kaye shook her head, leaning over the gutter in case she vomited. Lutie-loo’s tiny fingers dug into Kaye’s neck as the little faery tried to keep perched on Kaye’s shoulder. “I don’t know which part of feeling like shit is from riding for two hours in an iron box and which part is from a wicked hangover,” she said, between deep breaths.
Bring me a faery that can tell an untruth.
Corny shrugged. “No more driving for the whole visit. All you have to do now is put up with riding on the subway.”
Kaye groaned, but she was too tired to smack him on the arm. Even the streets stank of iron. Beams of it propped up every building. Iron formed the skeletons of the cars that congested the roads, clogging them like slow-moving blood through the arteries of a heart. Gusts of iron seared her lungs. She concentrated on her own glamour, making it heavier and her senses duller. That managed to push away the worst of the iron sickness.
You’re the only thing I want.
“Can you walk?” Corny asked.
“What? Oh, yeah.” Kaye sighed, shoving her hands into the pockets of her purple plaid overcoat. “Sure.” Everything felt as if it were happening in slow motion. It took effort to concentrate on anything but the memories of Roiben and the taste of iron in her mouth. She pressed her nails into the flesh of her palm.
It is a weakness. My affection for you.
Corny touched her shoulder. “So, which building?”
Kaye checked the number she’d written on the back of her hand and pointed to an apartment complex. Her mother’s apartment cost twice as much as one they’d lived in three months ago in Philadelphia. Ellen’s promise to Kaye that she’d commute to New York so they could stay in New Jersey had lasted until the first huge fight between Ellen and her mother. Typical. But this time Kaye hadn’t moved with her.
They walked up the steps to the apartment entrance and leaned on the button. A buzzer droned and Kaye pushed inside, Corny right behind her.