“No,” I answered. “It...took his soul.”
Guro sighed, his expression tightening, but he didn’t seem at all surprised. I watched him, my teacher, my mentor, the only other human who truly knew what was going on with my life. I’d thought I knew Guro Javier. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
“Did you know?” I asked, my voice rough. “When you created that thing. Did you know what the amulet would do?”
“I suspected,” Guro said calmly, and lowered his arms to his knees. “I had not performed black magic before, Ethan,” he went on. “Nor have I ever worked my craft for spirits, or creatures of the Hidden World. I was not sure your friend even had a soul.”
“Would you have told us if you were?” I wasn’t trying to be accusatory; I just needed to understand. Keirran was gone, and I had seen firsthand the demon that was left behind. A true fey; no emotion, no regret or remorse or conscience to slow him down. Without his soul, Keirran had become the kind of faery I had always loathed and feared.
“If I did,” Guro returned in a quiet voice, “would that have stopped him?”
I slumped, shaking my head. “No,” I muttered. Nothing would have stopped Keirran. He was bound and determined to save Annwyl, and now, he was well on his way to destroying the courts. Just like the prophecy had said.
And I had helped make it happen.
“Can it be reversed?” Kenzie asked, as Razor crawled up her back to peek out of her hair. “Or, is there a way to destroy the amulet without hurting Keirran and Annwyl?”
“The anting-anting cannot be destroyed,” Guro said gravely, making my stomach drop. “Not by normal means. Nor can it be given away or lost. It will always find its way back to its bearer. If you want your friend’s soul to be saved, there is only one solution.” Guro raised his dark eyes to me and held my gaze. “He must destroy it, of his own free will. He must make that choice.”
The air left my lungs in a rush. Keirran had to destroy the amulet himself. How impossible was that going to be?
“If Keirran does destroy it,” Kenzie asked, “what will happen to Annwyl?”
“She will die,” Guro said simply. “Or, she will return to how she was before the anting-anting was created. There is nothing I can do for her. I am sorry.”
Kenzie slumped against the couch, her face tightening with grief. Razor crawled onto her shoulder and made worried buzzing sounds, patting her hair, and Kenzie clutched his tiny body close. She didn’t contradict Guro’s statement or insist that he might be able to do something else. No more magic. No more spells. We both knew better than to ask.
“I wish I could give you better news,” Guro continued, his own voice subdued, full of regret. “But, if you want your friend’s soul returned to him, the anting-anting must be destroyed, and he must be the one to do it. There is no other way.”
I nodded numbly. “I understand,” I said, feeling the impossibility of it all weighing me down. How would we ever get Keirran to destroy the amulet, especially if it would kill Annwyl in return? Even if we managed to talk to Keirran without him attacking us, he would never agree to that. “Thanks, Guro.”
“One more thing,” Guro added as I prepared to stand. “A few months ago, someone came to my house. I could not see it, but I could feel it. I knew someone was there.”
“What did it want?”
“I do not know.” Guro shook his head. “It never said anything. But I do not believe it wished me harm, whomever it was. It left soon after, and has not been back since.”
Kenzie looked at me. “Annwyl?”
I shrugged. “Why would she come here and not say anything?”
“I don’t know,” Kenzie murmured, as Razor bobbed on her shoulder, muttering, “Pretty elf, pretty elf.” Her face darkened. “But I think it’s safe to say we have to find her now.”
I nodded, already thinking about where we had to go next when, somewhere behind closed doors, the dogs exploded in a frenzy of barking. And not the excited people are here barks I’d heard dogs make before. This was a snarling, guttural racket, the kind with bared teeth and raised hackles, and it made the hair on my neck stand up.
Razor gave a hiss of alarm and crouched low on Kenzie’s shoulder. Guro rose swiftly, eyes narrowed to dangerous black slits. I leaped to my feet, watching Guro and wondering if I should pull my swords.
“Something is coming,” Guro said, just as a dark shadow slid across the window outside, peering in. It was lean, too lean for a human, with long thin arms and a featureless black body like a spill of living ink. Two bulbous glowing eyes stared out of the dark mass, pupil-less gaze fixed on us all. It raked long fingers down the glass, and my blood turned to ice.
The Forgotten were here.
CHAPTER SEVEN
AGAINST THE FORGOTTEN
With a curse, I drew my blades, as a second Forgotten moved across the window, a black blur against the glass. Panic fluttered inside, and I shoved it down. Guro didn’t have the Sight; he couldn’t see the Forgotten like Kenzie and I could. If these were human invaders, I’d almost feel sorry for them, but how could you fight something you couldn’t see?
“Guro,” I said, as he glanced at me sharply, “the Forgotten are here. Er, faeries that are after Kenzie and me. Do you have a back door? If we leave now, we might be able to lead them away.”
His eyes narrowed. “How many?” he asked in a lethal voice.
“Uh...” I glanced at the window. Three Forgotten pressed against the glass now, and another two scuttled past the window beside it. “I don’t know, exactly. At least five, maybe more.”