THE RITUAL
I called Guro before I showed up on his doorstep that morning with two gentry and a gremlin, not needing a repeat of the last time we visited. Guro had a little girl and two dogs who apparently did not like gremlins, and I wanted to keep the faery madness to a minimum this time. When I explained what was happening, I still half expected him to hang up at any moment, but he calmly instructed me to come as soon as I could.
We went Between again, following Keirran through a bleak landscape of mist, fog and nothing else. My truck, sadly, would have to stay in the hotel’s parking lot in New Orleans. I hated leaving it behind, but what else could I do? I just hoped it wouldn’t be towed, impounded or stolen by the time I could go back for it.
The last part of the trip was made by taxi, with Keirran holding Annwyl in his lap and constantly murmuring to her. The mood in the cab was somber; even Razor was quiet, crouched on Kenzie’s shoulder, peeking out of her hair. The Summer faery didn’t look good, curled up in Keirran’s arms, occasionally going transparent and see-through. Keirran’s voice was low and soothing as he whispered to her, and I would catch snippets of stories, memories of summer nights and lonely meeting places, of dances under the stars and some truly crazy stunts he had pulled just to see her. Sometimes, Annwyl’s quiet, lilting voice would drift up weakly, showing she was still fighting, still hanging on. But these were the last hours of her life now, and everyone knew it.
We finally pulled up at Guro’s familiar brick house. As I paid the driver and we all piled out of the cab, the front door opened, and Guro stepped out, waiting for us. I looked at Keirran, still invisible to mortal eyes, and the Fading Summer faery in his arms.
“How is she?” I asked as we started up the driveway. Keirran shook his head. His eyes were grim.
“I can barely feel her anymore.” His outline shimmered as he unglamoured himself, materializing into view. In his arms, Annwyl stirred and whispered something I couldn’t hear. Keirran closed his eyes. “She doesn’t have enough glamour to make herself visible. I hope your Guro can help something he can’t even see.”
I hoped so, too.
Guro nodded to us solemnly as we met him on the porch, his gaze lingering on Keirran. “Come in,” he said, opening the screen door. “The dogs are out back, and I sent Maria and Sadie to their grandmother’s for the day, so it is just us.” We followed him into the living room, where just last week he had given me the swords now hidden in my backpack. Geez, had it really been that short a time? I felt like I’d been doing this crazy faery thing forever.
“Ethan has told me about you,” Guro said, sitting in the armchair across from us. Kenzie and I took the couch, and Keirran perched on the edge, still holding Annwyl. I wondered what Guro could see when he looked at the Iron Prince, if he could see anything at all. “He told me you are family and that you have a friend who is...Fading away?”
Kenzie blinked in surprise, but Keirran nodded, looking hopeful. “Yes. Please, can you help her?”
Guro pondered this for a moment. “I do not know,” he said at last, and Keirran’s shoulders sank. “My charms—the protection amulets I create—they are for humans only. I have never done anything for...your kind. I do not know if they would have an impact.”
“Would you try?” Keirran asked, a hint of desperation in his voice. Guro regarded him thoughtfully.
“First, tell me what is wrong with your friend. If I am to help her, I need to know what she requires protection from.”
Briefly, Keirran and I explained as best we could. How faeries lived on through the dreams and glamour of mortals, how faeries banished from the Nevernever began to Fade, how, as the memories and magic that sustained them slowly disappeared, they did, as well.
Guro was silent a few moments after we finished, and the soft buzzing from Razor was the only sound that filled the room.
“Can you help us?” Keirran finally asked. Guro sighed heavily, drawing his brows together.
“I am sorry,” he said, and my stomach dropped. “But I am afraid I cannot save your friend.”
Keirran made a choked sound and bowed his head, bending over Annwyl. Razor gave a distressed wail, and Kenzie asked, “There’s nothing you can do? At all?”
“My amulets provide protection from outside harm,” Guro replied, his expression grave and mournful. “They cannot sustain a soul that is dying. There is nothing in the light arts that will help with this. I am very sorry.”
That’s it, then, I thought numbly. Annwyl will die. She’ll be gone before tonight. And Keirran...what will he do? I sneaked a glance at the Iron Prince; he was curled over the Summer faery in his lap, shoulders trembling.
As if echoing my thoughts, Keirran raised his head. His eyes and voice sent chills up my spine as he asked, “What about the dark arts?”
I gave a start. “Keirran...”
“You said there is nothing in the light arts that will help,” Keirran went on, ignoring me. His icy gaze was fixed on Guro, whose expression darkened. “What about the other arts, then? Cost doesn’t matter to me. I’ll pay whatever is necessary.” Guro hesitated, and Keirran’s voice became desperate. “Is there something that can save her? I’ll do anything.”
“You don’t know what you are asking.”
“I can’t lose her,” Keirran whispered. “If you can’t help us tonight, she’ll die. And I can’t let her go, not yet. No cost is too high—I would sell my soul to save her.”
“You might have to,” Guro said quietly. “Black magic is not to be tampered with. When I became a tuhon, I swore I would not perform the dark arts unless it was absolutely nessecary.”
“It is necessary,” Keirran argued. “There is no other way.” Guro continued to stare at him, his expression blank, and Keirran closed his eyes.
“I love her,” he whispered, and Guro’s shoulders slumped, just the tiniest bit. If you didn’t know him well, you wouldn’t have seen it. Opening his eyes, Keirran gave him a desperate, pleading look, his voice earnest. “Please, I’m begging you. Help us. There’s nowhere else we can go, and Annwyl is out of time.”
Abruptly, Guro rose. For a moment, he stared down at us, his dark gaze lingering on me, appraising. Then he took a deep breath.
“There is a ceremony,” he began in a voice that raised the hairs on my neck. “A ritual that will steal the strength, memories and magic from one person and store it in an amulet for another to draw upon. But the ritual will weaken the target of the spell and will continue to weaken him until he is but a shell of his former self. It might corrupt him in ways he cannot see and it will eventually kill him, because he is essentially losing part of his soul. It is a very dark, black piece of magic, and it is something I swore I would never use.” He faced Keirran solemnly, and the Iron Prince stared back. “If I do this, I cannot predict what will happen to you. At best, it will buy her time, perhaps enough for you to find a permanent solution. At worst, you will both die. Be absolutely certain this is something you are willing to sacrifice.”
Keirran didn’t hesitate. “Yes,” he said, holding Guro’s gaze. “I’m willing. What do you need me to do?”
“Keirran,” I said in a shaky voice, still reeling from the fact that my master, my mentor, could perform black magic, “you could die from this. What would Meghan say? What if we can’t find another solution after this?”
“There’s no time left,” Keirran whispered. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“There is more,” Guro said slowly. He glanced at me, and my heart lurched. “For the ritual to work, Ethan will need to take part in it, too. We can only proceed if he is willing, as well.”
“Me?” My insides shrank a little. “Why?”
“It is best if I do not explain,” Guro said. “But know this—you will not be tied to the ritual in any way when it is done. I simply need your assistance to create the ating-ating, the amulet that will steal your friend’s magic and drain his strength.”
That sounded pretty awful. Guro wasn’t pulling any punches; he was being straight with me, even in this. And he was giving both of us the chance to refuse. Hoping we would refuse. But Keirran looked at me, silently pleading, and I swallowed the dryness in my throat. Well, we’d come this far, and Keirran would never forgive me if I said no. I didn’t like the idea of being part of this dark ritual, but I trusted Guro. He wouldn’t ask me to participate if it was too dangerous.
At least, I hoped not.
“Sure,” I rasped out. “I’ll do it.”
Guro exhaled. “I need some time to prepare,” he said, sounding weary all of a sudden. “Ethan, do you have your swords?”
The question threw me, but I bobbed my head. “Yes, Guro.”
“And you.” He glanced at Keirran and the sword across his back. “You carry a weapon, as well. Do you know how to use it?”
“Yes. My father taught me.”
“Good. Let me gather a few things, then I will take you to the ritual spot.”
“Ritual spot?” I blinked. “Where is it?”
“Not here,” Guro answered simply. “But not far. Ethan,” he continued, beckoning me to follow him out of the room, “may I speak to you for a moment?”
Silently, I trailed Guro into the kitchen. He laid both hands on the counter and closed his eyes, before looking up.
“Are you certain you are willing to do this?” he asked. “I have never performed this ritual before, but I know it will get very dark by the end. It is not something I do lightly, and to be honest, I would never consider it had your friend not asked. But I want you to be certain, Ethan.” He glanced back at the living room, where I could just hear Razor buzzing away on Kenzie’s shoulder. “Your friend walks a dangerous line,” Guro mused, his worried voice making my skin prickle. “He tampers with forces unseen, and he does not see the darkness rising up inside him. This ritual may bring that all to the surface.”
I paused a moment, considering. “Keirran is family,” I said as Guro turned back to me. “And...he’s my friend. Even if he isn’t thinking straight, I can’t let him do this alone.”
“Your loyalty is commendable, Ethan,” Guro said, smiling faintly. “Just make sure you give it to those worthy of having it.” He opened a drawer, took out a box of matches and stepped away. “I will need to prepare a few things before we leave. It should not take long. Wait here, and when I am ready, I will call for you.”
* * *
Keirran didn’t leave Annwyl’s side the whole time.
“How’re they doing?” I asked Kenzie, who came out of the living room alone, looking tired. Razor had abandoned her, it seemed, as he was no longer crouched on her shoulder, probably in the room with Keirran. She filched a soda from the fridge and slid onto one of the breakfast stools, opening the can with a hiss.
“The same,” she murmured, not looking at me. “Annwyl doesn’t look like she’s getting any worse, but Keirran isn’t going to take any chances. He’s not letting her out of his sight.”
She looked tired. Exhausted, really. Her eyes were dull, and circles crouched under them, sullen and dark. I reminded myself that we’d basically been up all night and had been running from crazy faeries nonstop ever since the goblin market.
I moved beside her, resting my elbows on the granite counter. She didn’t look at me, gazing down at the aluminum between her hands. I could feel the gulf between us, the simmering hurt and anger, and swallowed the last of my damn pride.
“I’m sorry,” I offered quietly. “For everything. I’m sorry I took off without you, and left you behind, and didn’t tell you where we were going. It was a shitty thing to do and...I’m sorry.”
She took a deep breath, exhaled slowly. “I know why you did it,” she replied, still not looking at me. “But...you really hurt me, Ethan. After everything I told you about my dad and my sickness, and wishing people would let me live my life the way I wanted. I thought you trusted me. Haven’t I proven that I can handle the faery world just as well as you?”
“Better than me,” I said truthfully.
“Then why—”
“Because I don’t want to lose you to Them like I lost Meghan!” My outburst made her blink. It startled me, too. I bowed my head and ran both hands through my hair.
“I know that’s a selfish reason,” I muttered, staring at the counter. “But when Meghan left...it screwed me up pretty bad. I practically worshipped her, you know, when I was little.” The words felt strange, coming from my mouth. I’d never told anyone this before. “For a long time, I believed she would come back. That whenever she finished what she had to do in Faery, she would come home. But she never did, not to stay. And then when Samantha got hurt...I lost her, too. She was my only friend, and...”
I trailed off, embarrassed. Kenzie was quiet, though I could feel her watching me. “That’s not an excuse,” I admitted. “I know that. But this scares me, Kenzie. Having you so close to this world, when all it’s done is rip things away from me...” I sighed, studying my hands so I didn’t have to look at her. “I panicked. I thought it would be better to keep you away from Them, even if it meant leaving you behind.”
Kenzie’s soft fingers on my arm surprised me, and I glanced up into her serious brown eyes. “I don’t want you to protect me, Ethan,” she said, squeezing my wrist. “I want to stand beside you when you face whatever Faery has to offer. And I want you to know that you’re not alone, that you don’t have to shoulder this all by yourself anymore. I know I’m sick, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to roll over and die. I just wish you would trust me enough to share some of that burden.”
I swallowed hard. “I promise,” I said, holding her gaze. “From now on, I won’t ever try to keep you away. I’ll still probably be insanely paranoid and overprotective, but if you want to march into the Nevernever and wave a stick at a dragon, I won’t try to stop you.”
She raised a disbelieving eyebrow, a faint smile crossing her face. “Really? You won’t try to stop me at all.”
“Nope. I’ll just be sure to stand in front of the dragon with a shield when it tries to cook you.”
The smile broke through. “I think you have the roles backward, tough guy. Of the two of us, who’s more likely to go waving their sticks at a dragon?”
“Hey, I have swords now. If I’m going to be picking a fight with a dragon, you can be sure it’s not going to be with a stick.”
“Ethan?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
The tightness in my chest deflated, and I straightened. Stepping forward, I drew her into my arms, stool and all, and brought my lips down to hers. She tilted her head up, her hands climbing my chest to the side of my face, burying her fingers in my hair. I groaned, clutching her tighter, feeling relief spread through me, and something else. Dammit, I couldn’t stop her from following me into danger, but I sure as hell was going to protect her while she was here. I would throw myself in front of the dragon if it came down to that.
My heart pounded, and I kissed her deeper, my stomach twisting as she parted her lips, letting me in. Her tongue teased mine, and everything that had brought us here—Keirran, Annwyl, the Fade—rushed out of my head. I’d never felt anything like this before: these crazy, swirling emotions, all centered around the girl in my arms. Kenzie scared me, infuriated me, challenged me, and faeries or no, I couldn’t imagine a world without this girl. I loved her more than anything else in my life.
My heart turned over, and the air caught in my throat. I pulled back, breathless with the realization.
I...was in love. With Kenzie.
The first sensation that rushed through me after that insight was terror. I’d never meant to fall in love; the fey hurt everyone I truly cared for. I’d resolved never to be so vulnerable, never to open myself up to that again. Everyone I loved became victims and targets....
Stop it, Ethan. You’ve had this argument a thousand times. It doesn’t work with Kenzie, remember?
Okay, yeah. I knew that much. Kenzie wouldn’t go for that excuse and wouldn’t let me get away with it, either. So, now what?
“Uh-oh.” Kenzie’s voice brought my attention back to her. She peered up at me with a half smile, her fingers gently stroking the nape of my neck, making my stomach dance. “I know that look. What’s going through your head, tough guy?”
I love you, Mackenzie. And it’s freaking me out a little. I swallowed. “Nothing,” I said, kissing her lightly on the mouth. She gave me a dubious look, and I smiled, running a strand of hair through my fingers. “Are we okay?” I asked instead. “Am I forgiven?”
I expected a smart-ass response, but Kenzie just nodded, leaning into me and laying her head on my chest. A little alarmed, my arms tightened around her. “You all right?”
“Just tired,” she murmured, which did not ease the alarm. The last time I’d pulled her into this craziness, she’d ended up in the hospital. I didn’t think the stress of running around fighting evil faeries and having her whole family mind-scrambled was helping her condition. “Why don’t you try to get some sleep?” I told her, feeling her relax against me. “It’s been a long night.”
But she shook her head, leaning back. “No, I’m okay. I just need a Red Bull or something. Besides, I can’t sleep until I know what will happen to Annwyl.”
Or Keirran, I thought.
Footsteps, and then Guro entered the kitchen, looking tired but firm. He had dressed all in black, and for some reason, he looked a little frightening. Which was weird; I never thought of him like that. His sharp black eyes flickered to me, and he nodded gravely.
“It’s time.”
* * *
We trailed Guro out to his SUV, and though Keirran didn’t look happy at the thought of riding in a car again with Annwyl, he climbed in without question. Guro was right; the drive wasn’t far, just a few blocks down the street until the road dead-ended at the edge of an overgrown lot. A small dirt path cut through the weeds toward a clump of trees in the distance.
Guro pulled a five-gallon bucket from the back and handed it to me. It was full of lighter fluid, firewood, charcoal briquettes and a rolled-up blanket. Taking out a portable stereo and a small cooler, Guro motioned for us to follow.
We walked single file down a narrow trail that cut through trees and swampland, beneath huge oaks dripping with Spanish moss, until we reached a small clearing at the water’s edge. Trees surrounded us, branches dangling close together, lacy curtains of moss waving in the breeze. Guro walked to the perimeter of the glen and laid the quilt over the dusty ground.
“Put your friend right here,” he said, indicating the blanket. “She will need to be well out of the way for what we must do tonight.”
Keirran obeyed, kneeling and gently depositing the Summer fey on the blanket. For a moment, he stayed there, holding her hand, the Summer faery limp and transparent. His face was anguished as he bent down, gently kissing her. “Hold on, Annwyl,” I heard him whisper, pulling away. “Please, hold on, just a little longer.”
Kenzie moved to the blanket, putting a hand on Keirran’s shoulder. “I’ll keep an eye on her,” she told him, and he smiled at her gratefully. Sitting cross-legged at the edge, she took Annwyl’s slender, transparent hand in her own, and Keirran walked slowly over to me and Guro.
Guro had already built a stone fire pit and was filling it with coal, wood and kindling. Beside it, the bucket of lighter fluid, a box of matches and...
I swallowed. An amulet. The kind Guro had given me and I’d passed on to Kenzie. A small metal disk on a leather cord, sitting there so innocently on the ground. My apprehension grew. It seemed too small and ordinary for what it was supposed to do: stop a faery from Fading into nothingness.
But I trusted that Guro knew what he was doing.
“Ethan, Keirran.” Guro turned to us. “I warn you both again, this could get very dark before it is done. You might discover things about each other, and yourselves, that you did not know and do not like. I issue this one final warning before we begin—this is black magic that we are dealing with, and it must not be taken lightly. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Guro,” I said, and Keirran nodded gravely.
“Very well.” He knelt in front of the bowl and began pouring in liberal amounts of lighter fluid. “This is what I need you to do,” he went on, not looking up from his task. “You both know how to fight, yes? When I give the signal, I want you to shadow spar each other around the fire using your blades. Look at your opponent and what they are doing—block, counter and attack them in the air, but do not touch each other. Understood?”
“Yes,” I replied, recognizing this exercise from my kali class. We would stand several feet from each other and spar without touching our opponent or their weapon, trying to block and counter their moves in the air. Though we usually used wooden rattan sticks, not live blades.
Keirran frowned slightly, probably having never done this before, but nodded. “I’ll follow your lead,” he told me. “Just tell me when.”
“One more thing.” Guro stood and beckoned to Keirran, who stepped forward instantly. I jumped when Guro pulled out a knife, but Keirran didn’t move as the weapon was held up.
“Your blood,” Guro said, staring at the faery prince. “You need to spill a few drops onto the amulet so it starts to hunger for you.”
My heart pounded. I didn’t like where this was going at all, but Keirran took the knife without hesitation. Guro held the amulet faceup, and the fey prince immediately sliced the blade across his palm. Thick red blood pooled from Keirran’s hand and dripped onto the polished bronze surface. When the amulet’s face was covered in red, Guro turned away and set it on the ground again.
“Ethan, stand over there,” Guro said, pointing to one side of the pit. I did, and Keirran took his place on the opposite side. Guro turned and clicked on the stereo behind him, turning up the volume. Dark, eerie drumming began to play, making my skin prickle, and Guro lit the kindling in the fire pit. The flames sprang up, tongues of orange and red, bathing the glade in a ghostly light. They flickered and snapped, clawing at the air, throwing weird dancing shadows over the trees and Guro’s face.
“Go,” Guro ordered, his voice low and intense, and started chanting.
I met Keirran’s gaze over the fire and began to move.
At first, I kept my eyes on my “opponent,” my movements smooth and deliberate, so he could see what I was doing. I would swing, he would block. He would counterattack, I would defend. At first, I thought I’d have an advantage with my two swords to his one, but I was wrong. Keirran not only kept up with me, I had to work not to let any of his “imaginary” blows get through. As our sparring got faster and the dance more serious, Keirran began to disappear, until I was only aware of our swords, flashing in the orange light, and my opponent’s next move.
Around us, the drums beat a frantic rhythm, primal and dark, and someone’s voice rose above it all, chanting words I didn’t understand. They didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except my swords and the darting blade across from me. Anger flared as all my strikes were blocked, all my blows were deflected. The drums swirled around me, goading and furious. I would not lose to him. I would not—
The clang of metal and the jolt up my arm shocked me back to reality. Somehow, Keirran and I had moved closer to the fire and were now just a few feet apart, glaring at each other over the flames. I blinked and shook myself, ready to draw back.
The cold, icy stranger met my gaze over the fire and swung his blade at my head.
I blocked, stepping to the side and meeting the sword with my own. The metal screeched, raising the hair on my neck, and shock shifted into fury.
I responded in kind, whipping my second blade at his face. He dodged, the edge barely missing him, and slashed up with his own weapon. The clang and screech of metal filled the air, mixing with the roar of drums and the frenzied chanting.
As I slashed at my opponent’s chest, a sudden stab of pain went up my arm. It flared red-hot for a moment, surprising me more than anything, and I staggered back. A quick glance revealed what I already knew; I’d been hit, and blood was starting to ooze down my forearm.
My vision went red. The drums, the chanting, they screamed at me, filling my senses. Fury bubbled up from a deep, dark well, consuming me, making me sick with hate. I knew him. I saw what he was now. He was the reason I’d lost my sister, the reason she never visited anymore. She had wanted to keep Keirran and me apart, make sure we never met, and in doing so had isolated herself, as well.
I snarled at my enemy, hating him, and lunged forward with a yell.
He met me in the center of the glade, sword flashing, his face frozen in an icy mask. It reminded me of that night in the Lady’s throne room, the night he betrayed me, and my rage soared higher. I lashed out viciously, knocking his sword away and stabbing forward with my second blade. The tip pierced his side, right below his rib cage, and his lips tightened with pain.
Setting his jaw, he raised his hand. I realized what was coming a second later and dived aside, as a blast of icicle-laced air tore into the trees behind me, the lethal ice darts shredding leaves and sticking into trunks. Snarling, I whipped around as the prince came at me, his weapon scything down, and brought both blades stabbing toward his heart.
“Ethan! Keirran!”
Kenzie’s voice slammed into me, piercing the maelstrom of drums, chanting, fury and hate. I blinked and pulled up just as Keirran did the same, coming to a halt maybe a foot away. I could suddenly feel the cool edge of his sword against my throat, the tips of my own weapons resting on his chest, right over his heart.
I was shaking, anger and violence still singing through my veins. I glared at the opponent across from me, still feeling his betrayal, all the anger I normally kept locked away still raging below the surface. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted him to feel the pain he had caused just by existing, tearing our family apart. Thirteen years of abandonment, of missing my sister, of living in hell, all because he’d been born.
Then Keirran took a deep, shaky breath, and the terrible light went out of his eyes. “Ethan,” he whispered, and the blade at my throat trembled. “What...are we doing?”
Horror sliced through me. Dropping my swords, I lurched away, staring at him. What was I doing? What was wrong with me? Keirran lowered his blade, too, looking dazed and just as horrified. And at that moment, the chanting, the drums, the fire, everything, flared up with a roar.
I staggered, my stomach turning inside out. I could feel the dark energy around us now, the anger, rage and hate generated by Keirran and I, swirling around the glade. The fire blazed and snapped in the pit, and I saw Guro on his feet with the knife in hand, still chanting at the bloody disk on the ground.
The amulet was glowing, pulsing red and black, almost like it was panting and alive. Guro shouted something at it, pointing at Keirran with the knife, and I swear I saw the thing try to leap off the ground toward the prince.
Keirran gasped, his sword dropping from his hand and hitting the dirt with a thump. Clutching his chest, his legs buckled, and he fell to his hands and knees, bowing his head. The darkness around us swirled, then, as if it was being forced down a drain, flowed toward the small metal disk on the ground and was sucked into it.
The wind tossing the branches died. The fire flickered and burned low. Keirran still knelt on the ground, panting, eyes closed. On the blanket, Kenzie met my gaze with a look that clearly said Go help him. Still fighting the last vestiges of anger and the now-overwhelming sense of guilt, I sheathed my swords and hurried over to him.
“Keirran.”
“I’m...okay,” the prince gasped. Shuddering, he sat back on his heels, and I noticed the dark, wet stain marring one side of his shirt. Shit, that was me. I did that. Why? I was angry, I guessed. Angry enough to actually land a blow, to deliberately hurt him. Why had I been so furious? I couldn’t remember now.
My arm throbbed, and I looked down to see my entire right hand and forearm streaked with blood, running in streams down my skin. Keirran saw where I was looking and winced.
“Ethan, I—”
“Forget it,” I said gruffly. “Let’s not think about it, okay? Guro said this was dark magic we were dealing with. I’ll put this behind me if you’ll do the same.”
He nodded, looking relieved. I held out my uninjured hand, which he took without hesitation, and I pulled him to his feet.
Guro waited for us by the fire, his expression grave and weary. He didn’t say anything about our injuries or the way our “shadow sparring” had devolved into an actual fight. I was too ashamed to say anything, feeling as if I’d just failed an important test, but Keirran stepped forward, his face anxious.
“Did...did it work?”
Guro regarded him solemnly, then held out his hand.
The amulet sat in his palm, glittering copper in the dying firelight. But it wasn’t the same. Sure, it looked the same, a small metal disk with a simple leather cord, but it practically glowed with malevolence now. Call me crazy, but I felt like I was staring at a living, breathing, angry thing. All my thoughts about its normality and insignificance disappeared, and I was almost afraid to step close for fear it would leap up and bite me.
“Be careful,” Guro told Keirran, who had shivered and drawn back a step when the amulet was uncovered. “The ating-ating is connected to you now, but not in a good way. It hungers for your life force, for your strength and magic and everything that makes you who you are. It will bestow that power upon its wearer, but you need to be aware that it will continue to draw from you until your strength fails and your magic is gone. I can destroy the ating-ating,” he added, perhaps seeing the look on my face, “but it will have to be done soon. The longer you wait, the stronger it grows and the more damage it can do. If it goes too long, that damage will be permanent.”
I looked at Keirran. He stared at the amulet like it was a venomous snake, curled in Guro’s palm, before taking a deep breath and shaking his head. “No. If this is what it takes to save her, I’ll gladly risk it.”
“It is not forever,” Guro warned. “It will sustain her only as long as you live. How long that will be depends on your own strength, but eventually, you will both perish.”
My blood went cold, but Keirran nodded calmly. “I understand. We’re just buying her time, buying us all time, until we can find a permanent solution.”
And how are we going to do that? I thought. You’ve already been all over the goblin markets, looking for a cure. The only other thing we’ve found is a drug made from the nightmares of children. Annwyl certainly won’t agree to that. What other permanent solution is there?
Guro nodded and held out the disk. Keirran hesitated as if reluctant to touch it, then reached out and deliberately grasped it by the metal face. I saw his jaw tighten, but then he bowed to Guro, turned and walked toward the Summer faery on the blanket.
Kenzie rose and moved aside, watching somberly as the prince knelt beside Annwyl and gently slipped the amulet around her neck, laying the disk over her chest. The blood from his wound spread over the back of his shirt, but he didn’t seem to notice, his gaze only for the Summer girl in front of him. Quietly, I walked up to join Kenzie, hoping this would work, that the dark, bloody ritual we’d just participated in wasn’t for nothing. I could see the outline of the blanket through the faery’s body, the flickering amulet on her chest far more real than the fey it was attached to.
Annwyl’s eyes fluttered, then opened—a bright, piercing green—and Keirran smiled.
“Keirran?”
“I’m here,” the prince whispered, his voice slightly choked with emotion, with relief. Taking her hand, he held it in both of his, as Annwyl flickered, becoming solid again. “Welcome back.”
My stomach uncoiled. Kenzie grinned at me, and I smiled, too. For now, at least, things were all right.
But then my arm gave a sharp flare of pain, making me wince. Turning away, I gingerly prodded my wound, judging the severity. It was hard to see with all the blood, but it appeared to be a fairly deep gash right above my elbow.
Kenzie saw what I was doing and gave a sharp gasp. “Oh, Ethan,” she whispered, sounding appalled. “I thought Keirran had hit you, but I didn’t know it was that bad.” Her eyes flashed, and she glared at the prince, as if ready to stalk up and demand what he was thinking. I put a hand out to stop her.
“It’s fine,” I said. “It’s not that bad, and besides...” I hesitated, wondering what she would think of me now. “The one I gave him is worse.”
“What?” She looked at me strangely, then back at Keirran, her eyes widening as she finally saw the blood against his dark shirt. “Ethan, what the hell? What happened out there?”
“Ethan.” Guro’s voice stopped me from answering, which was good because I had no clue how to reply. I walked up, and without a word, he handed me a first-aid kit. Not the tiny, plastic kind, either. This was pretty heavy-duty. Kenzie padded up behind me, took the kit from my hands and knelt to open it. After a moment of rifling through the contents, she pointed to the ground beside her. I sat obediently.
“What will you do now?” Guro asked, watching us as Kenzie tended to my wounded arm. I let her hold out my elbow and push back the sleeve, wiping the blood away. After everything we’d gone through, she had done this so often it was almost routine.
“I don’t know,” I admitted, clenching my jaw as Kenzie dabbed at the cut itself with what felt like a peroxide square. That or a strip of acid. “I guess we’ll be searching for that ‘permanent solution’ Keirran was talking about.” I sucked in a breath as peroxide seeped into the gash, making my whole arm burn. Kenzie murmured an apology. “Though I really have no idea where we can find one,” I breathed. “There’s no way to really stop it unless she goes back home.”
Guro didn’t reply, but Kenzie piped up, as if it was obvious. “So send her home.”
“She can’t go home,” I told her. “Titania banished her from the Nevernever, for being ‘too pretty.’ That’s why she’s in exile.”
“But exile isn’t permanent, right?” Kenzie said, picking up a roll of gauze and unwinding it deftly. “If Titania lifted her banishment, couldn’t she go back?”
“Yeah, but...” I trailed off as I thought about it. There was no real reason Annwyl couldn’t return to the Nevernever, none, except for Titania. The Queen of the Summer Court was as vain and fickle as she was powerful and dangerous, but Annwyl hadn’t exactly done anything wrong. Her banishment was likely done on a whim, and if it had been a whim, then maybe if we reasoned with the Summer Queen...
I groaned. “I’m not going to like what we’re going to do next, am I?”
“Nope,” Kenzie said cheerfully, winding gauze around my arm. “You’re going to hate it. And we’ll probably have to hear you whine about how much you hate it the entire trip.”
I frowned at her. “I don’t whine !”
She raised an eyebrow at me, and I snorted. Guro sighed.
“I don’t like this, Ethan,” he said, making me cringe. “But I understand that this is something you must do, whatever it is. Just one warning.” His eyes narrowed, and he glanced behind us at Keirran. “Be careful around that one,” he said in a lower voice. “You saw what happened tonight. It was not only your darkness rising to the surface. And anger is not the only emotion that can force us to consider terrible things. There is only so much a soul can take before it is broken.”
The image of my body lying on the ground, Keirran standing over it with a bloody sword, flickered to mind, and I shoved it back. “I’ll be careful, Guro,” I promised. “Thank you for everything.”
I helped him load the stuff back in his car, carrying things one-handed as my arm still hurt like hell. I hoped I hadn’t hurt Keirran too badly with that stab to the ribs. True, he’d drawn first blood, but I shouldn’t have let it get that far. I’d known what I’d been doing every second of that fight, and it wasn’t a case of me just trying to defend myself; I’d really wanted to hurt him.
“Call me if you need anything,” Guro said, opening the front door of his SUV. “Anytime, day or night. And Ethan...?”
“Yes, Guro?”
His dark gaze met mine. “You can’t save everyone,” he said in a gentle voice. “Sometimes, you have to make the decision to let them go.”
I watched as he drove away, waited until the vehicle turned a corner and vanished from sight, then hurried back to the group.
His words haunted me with every step.
* * *
Kenzie met me at the edge of the glade, alone.
“Where are the other two?” I asked, looking past her to the clearing, quite empty of faeries and half fey. She rolled her eyes.
“They went off to do their own thing,” she said, putting emphasis and air quotes on the word thing. “Keirran got Annwyl on her feet, but then she noticed he was hurt, so off they went to ‘patch him up,’ as she put it.” She turned and pointed with a finger. “They’re in that clump of trees over there, but I wouldn’t recommend checking on them just yet.”
“Believe me, I have no intention at all.”
She grinned, then slipped her arms around my waist, snuggling close with a sigh. My heart jumped, and I wrapped my arms around her as she laid her head on my chest.
“You freaked me out a little back there, tough guy,” Kenzie admitted as her fingers began their maddening circles in the small of my back. “For a second, I really thought you and Keirran would end up killing each other.”
“Yeah,” I muttered, resting my chin atop her head, not knowing what to say. I could blame Guro’s magic, but those feelings of anger and betrayal toward Keirran were already there, just buried deep. I wondered what Keirran had been feeling when he attacked, when his sword had cut into my arm and drawn blood. “I don’t know what happened.”
Kenzie suddenly coughed, hiding her face in her arm, her body shaking violently against mine. Alarm flickered. She felt so breakable all of a sudden, her bones pressing sharply against her skin, the shadow of a bruise I hadn’t noticed before marring the back of her arm.
“Sorry,” she whispered when the fit passed. “Leftover ick from the hospital, I guess. I’ll try not to cough all over you.”
She tried drawing away, but I locked my fingers together and pulled her back.
Kenzie looked up at me, brown eyes widening, and my heart stuttered. Yep, it was official. I was definitely in love. I was in love with a girl who threw herself into danger, bargained with faeries and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Who was stubborn and cheerful and relentless, and could probably beat any opponent...except the thing inside her.
I was in love with a girl who was dying.
You can’t save everyone, Guro’s voice whispered in my head, making my insides cold. Sometimes, you have to make that decision to let them go.
Kenzie blinked slowly, still gazing up at me. “Ethan?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t do that.”
I frowned, startled. “What?”
“You look at me like I’m already gone. The way my doctors, or my teachers, or even my family does. All sad and resigned and grim. Like they’re staring at a ghost.” Her hand rose, brushing my hair. “I’m still here, tough guy. I’m not done yet.”
A lump caught in my throat, and I swallowed it. Lowering my head, I kissed her, and her arms slid around my neck, pulling us close. I couldn’t promise her forever, but I’d give her everything I had in the time she was here.
“Just promise me one thing,” I whispered as we drew back a little. “When we do see Titania, do not, under any circumstances, make any kind of a bargain with her.” Kenzie raised a teasing eyebrow, but I stayed serious. “I’m not kidding, Mackenzie. Promise me you won’t say anything when we meet Titania. She can’t screw you over in a faery word game if you don’t say anything to her.”
Her eyes flashed. “You make it sound like I’ve never bargained with faeries before. I seem to recall doing just fine.”
“I know.” I tightened my grip on her. “I know I’m being overbearing and overprotective again. But just this once, for my sanity, promise you won’t talk to her. Please.”
“Oh, fine,” Kenzie huffed, rolling her eyes. “Just this once, then. I promise I won’t say anything. But is she really that awful?”
“You have no idea,” I muttered. “Leanansidhe was bad enough, but the Queen of the Seelie Court? She’s the epitome of everything I hate about the fey. She’ll trick you into becoming a deer or a rosebush, just because she can. Because she thinks it’s amusing.”
“He’s right, unfortunately.”
We broke apart as Keirran stepped out of the trees several yards away, Annwyl close behind him. The Summer faery looked almost normal now, bright and solid with no hint of the transparency that had nearly killed her. The amulet pulsed at her throat, causing a chill to creep up my spine when I looked at it. Keirran, I noted, moved a bit stiffly, favoring his right side, but other than that, he seemed fine.
“So,” he said, looking at each of us, “we are going to see Titania.” He winced, and on his shoulder, Razor gave a worried buzz. “That’s going to be...interesting. At least if Oberon is there, he’ll be able to rein her in somewhat. But I think we’re still going to have to deal with Titania herself.” He glanced at me, frowning. “Are you sure you’re okay with this, Ethan?”
“Trust me, I think getting a root canal would rank higher on my list of things to do,” I muttered. “But I think Kenzie is right. The only way to permanently stop the Fade is if Annwyl goes home. And the only way she can go home is if Titania raises the exile.”
“You won’t get her to change her mind,” Annwyl said softly. “Not for free. Not without making some kind of bargain, if she decides to change it at all.”
“We won’t know unless we try,” Keirran said, sounding determined. “And we’re out of options. Titania will let you come back. I can be very persistent.”
“I have a better idea,” whispered a cold, familiar voice, and a figure turned out of nowhere, smiling at us across the glade. “Why don’t you let the girl come with me, and we can return to Phaed together?”