The Iron Traitor (The Iron Fey: Call of the Forgotten #2)

The Iron Traitor (The Iron Fey: Call of the Forgotten #2) Page 30

Shock and horror flooded in, burning away the last of the cobwebs. I turned on Keirran, but Kenzie was already shoving away from me, stalking out the door after the prince.

Keirran waited for us in the hall, the Summer faery in his arms again. His gaze was resigned as Kenzie marched up to him, fury lining every inch of her.

“Keirran, what the hell?” she hissed, keeping her voice low as it was still five in the morning, and we didn’t want other guests poking their heads out to glare at us. “Tell me you did not just do what I think you did to my parents!”

“I’m sorry,” Keirran replied, bowing his head. “I didn’t want to, but they left me little choice. Your father would not have let you go, Mackenzie. He would’ve had Ethan arrested. And we are running out of time.”

“That’s still not an excuse! You had no right—”

“I did what was necessary.” The prince’s voice was calm. “I made a choice, and you don’t have to agree with it. But can we please talk about this later? When Annwyl is safe, I promise you can yell at me all you want. But we should go, now. Ethan...” He looked at me apologetically, as if he knew I was furious with him, too. “I don’t quite remember the way to Guro’s home. If I can get us to that little park a couple blocks from your house, will you take us the rest of the way?”

I glared at him, wanting to argue, wanting to shout at him for both Kenzie’s sake and mine. What is wrong with you, Prince? You don’t just put the faery mind-whammy on someone like that, especially in front of her own family members! What the hell happened to you? But Keirran looked so anxious, and yelling at him would get me nowhere right then. Besides, like it or not, the damage was done. It sucked, but at least we wouldn’t have to worry about Kenzie’s dad anymore. Her whole family thought she was off visiting a relative and wouldn’t even think of her until she came back or the faery glamour wore off. Was I a rotten human being if I said I was the tiniest bit relieved?

Probably.

“Yeah,” I growled at him, ignoring his grateful look. “I can get us there.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

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?”