I looked at Keirran, questioning. He hesitated, looking back toward the door, eyes haunted. I saw the indecision on his face, before he shook his head and turned away. “No,” he said, ignoring Kenzie’s annoyed huff. “I want her to be safe. I’d rather have her angry at me than lose her to those monsters. Let’s go.”
* * *
It took most of the night. Leanansidhe’s piskie guide knew of only one trod to my hometown; Guro’s house was still clear across town where we came out, and we had to call a taxi to take us the rest of the way. During the half-hour cab ride, Kenzie dozed off against my shoulder, drawing a knowing smile from both Keirran and the driver. I didn’t mind the journey, though I did find myself thinking that I wished Grimalkin was here—he would have found us a quicker, easier way to Guro’s house—before I caught myself.
Whoa, when did you start relying on the fey, Ethan? That can’t happen, not now, not ever.
Careful not to disturb Kenzie, I crossed my arms and stared out the window, watching the streetlamps flash by. And I tried to convince myself that I still wanted nothing to do with Faery. As soon as this business with the glamour-eaters was done, so was I.
Somehow, I knew it wasn’t going to be that simple.
The taxi finally pulled up to Guro’s house in the early hours of the morning. I paid the driver with the last of my cash, then gazed up the driveway to the neat brick house sitting up top.
Hope Guro is an early riser.
I knocked on the front door, and immediately a dog started barking from within, making me wince. Several seconds later, the door opened, and Guro’s face stared at me through the screen. A big yellow lab peered out from behind his legs, wagging its tail.
“Ethan?”
“Hey, Guro.” I gave an embarrassed smile. “Sorry it’s so early. Hope I didn’t wake you up.”
Before I could even ask to come in, the screen door swung open and Guro beckoned us inside. “Come in,” he said in a firm voice that set my heart racing. “Quickly, before anyone sees you.”
We crowded through the door. The interior of his home looked pretty normal, though I don’t know what I was expecting. Mats on the floor and knives on the walls, maybe? We followed him through the kitchen into the living room, where an older, scruffy-looking dog gave us a bored look from the sofa and didn’t bother to get up.
“Sit, please.” Guro turned to me, gesturing to the couch, and we all carefully perched on the edge. Kenzie sat next to the old dog and immediately started scratching his neck. Guro watched her a moment, then his dark gaze shifted back to me.
“Have you been home yet?”
“I…” Startled by his question, I shook my head. “No, Guro. How did you—”
“The news, Ethan. You’ve been on the news.”
I jerked. Kenzie looked up at him with a small gasp.
Guro nodded grimly. “You, the girl and another boy,” he went on, as a sick feeling settled in my stomach. “All vanished within a day of each other. The police have been searching for days. I don’t know you—” he nodded at Keirran “—but I can only assume you’re a part in this, whatever it is.”
Keirran bowed his head respectfully. “I’m just a friend,” he said. “I’m only here to help Ethan and Kenzie. Pay no attention to me.”
Guro looked at him strangely. His eyes darkened, and for a second, I almost thought he could see through the glamour, through the Veil and Keirran’s human disguise, to the faery beneath.
“Who was that at the door, dear?” A woman came into the room, dark-haired and dark-eyed, blinking at us in shock. A little girl of maybe six stared at us from her arms. “These…” She gasped, one hand going to her mouth. “Aren’t these the children that were on TV? Shouldn’t we call the police?”
I gave Guro a pleading, desperate look, and he sighed.
“Maria.” He smiled and walked over to his wife. “I’m sorry. Would you be able to entertain our guests for a moment? I need to speak to my student alone.” She looked at him sharply, and he took her hand. “I’ll explain everything later.”
The woman glanced from Guro to us and back again, before she nodded stiffly. “Of course,” she said in a rigidly cheerful voice, as if she was trying to accept the whole bizarre situation. I felt bad for her; it wasn’t every day three strange kids landed on your doorstep, two of whom were wanted by the police. But she smiled and held out a hand. “We can sit in the kitchen until your friend is done here.”
Kenzie and Keirran looked at me. I nodded, and they rose, following the woman into the hall. I heard her asking if they wanted something to eat, if they’d had breakfast yet. Both dogs hopped up and trailed Kenzie as she left the room, and I was alone with my master.
Guro approached and sat on the chair across from me. He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t demand to know where I’d been, what I was doing. He just waited.
I took a deep breath. “I’m in trouble, Guro.”
“That I figured,” Guro said in a quiet, non-accusing voice. “What’s happened? Start from the beginning.”
“I’m…not even sure I can explain it.” I ran my hands through my hair, trying to gather my thoughts. Why had I come here? Did I think Guro would believe me if I started talking about invisible faeries? “Do you remember what you said in the locker room that night? About not trusting what your eyes tell you?” I paused to see his reaction, but I didn’t get much; he just nodded for me to go on. “Well…something was after me. Something that no one else can see. Invisible things.”
“What type of invisible things?”
I hesitated, reluctant to use the word faery, knowing how crazy I already sounded. “Some people call them the Fair Folk. The Gentry. The Good Neighbors.” No reaction from Guro, and I felt my heart sink. “I know it sounds insane, but I’ve always been able to see them, since I was a little kid. And They know I can see them, too. They’ve been after me all this time, and I don’t think I can run from them any longer.”
Guro was silent a moment. Then he said, very softly: “Does this have anything to do with what happened at the tournament?”
I looked up, a tiny spring of hope flaring in my chest. Guro didn’t smile. “You were being chased, weren’t you?” he asked solemnly. “I saw you. You and the girl both. I saw you run out the back door, and I saw something strike you just as you went outside.”
“How—”
“Your blood was on the door frame.” Guro’s voice was grave, and I heard the worry behind it. “That, if anything, told me what I saw was real. I followed you out, but by the time I reached the back lot, you were both gone.”
I held my breath.
“My grandfather, the Mang-Huhula who trained me, he would often tell me stories of spirits, creatures invisible to the nak*d eye. He said there is a whole unknown world that exists around us, side by side, and no one knows it is there. Except for a few. A very rare few, who can see what no one else can. And the spirits of this world can be helpful or harmful, friendly or wicked, but above all, those who see the invisible world are constantly trapped by it. They will always walk between two lives, and they will have to find a way to balance them both.”
“Do they ever succeed?” I asked bitterly.
“Sometimes.” Guro’s voice didn’t change. “But they often have help. If they can accept it.”
I chewed my lip, trying to put my thoughts into words. “I don’t know what to do, Guro,” I said at last. “I’ve been trying to stay away from all this—I didn’t want to get involved. But they’re threatening my friends and family now. I’m going to have to fight them, or they’ll never leave me alone. I’m just… I’m scared of what they’ll do to my family if I don’t do something.”
Guro didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he stood and left the room for several minutes, while I sat on the couch and wondered if he was calling the police. If my story was still too crazy for him to accept, despite his apparent belief in “the invisible world.” I was wondering if I should get Kenzie and Keirran and just leave, when he reappeared holding a flat wooden box. Setting it reverently on the coffee table between us, he looked at me with a serious expression.
“Remember when I told you I do not teach kali for violence?” he asked. I nodded.
“What do I teach it for?”
“Self-defense,” I recited. Guro nodded at me to go on. “To…pass on the culture. To make sure the skills don’t fade away.” Guro still waited. My answers were correct, but I still wasn’t saying what he wanted.
“And?”
I racked my brain for a few seconds, before I had it. “To protect your family,” I said quietly. “To defend the ones you care about.”
Guro smiled. Bending forward, he flipped the latches on the case and pulled back the top.
I drew in a slow breath. The swords lay there on the green felt, nestled in their leather sheaths. The same blades I had used in the tournament.
Guro’s gaze flickered to me. “These are yours,” he explained. “I had them made a few years after you joined the class. I had a feeling you might need them someday.” He smiled at my astonishment. “They have no history, not yet. That will be up to you. And someday, hopefully, you can pass them down to your son.”
I unstrapped the swords and picked them up in a daze. I could feel the balance, the lethal sharpness of the edges, and I gripped the hilts tightly. Rising, I gave them a practice twirl, hearing the faint hum of the blades cutting through the air. They were still perfectly balanced, fitting into my hands like they’d been waiting for me all along. I couldn’t help but smile, seeing my reflection in the polished surface of the weapons.
Okay, now I was ready to face whatever those glamour-sucking bastards could throw at me.
“One more thing.” Guro reached into the box and pulled out a small metal disk hanging from a leather thong. A triangle was etched into the center of the disk, and between the lines was a strange symbol I didn’t recognize.
“For protection,” Guro said, holding it up. “This kept my grandfather safe, and his father before him. It will protect you now, as well.”
Guro draped the charm around my neck. It was surprisingly heavy, the metal clinking against my iron cross as I tucked it into my shirt. “Thank you,” I murmured.
“Whatever you have to face, Ethan, you don’t have to do it alone.”
Embarrassed now, I looked down. Guro seemed to pick up on my unease, for he turned away, toward the hall. “Come. Let’s see what your friends have gotten themselves into.”
* * *
Keirran was in the kitchen, sitting at the counter with his elbows resting on the granite surface, a mug of something hot near his elbow. The little girl sat next to him, scrawling on a sheet of paper with a crayon, and the half-faery—the prince of the Iron Realm—seemed wholly intrigued by it.