saw you last,” Guro said, his dark gaze solely on me. “Ethan, before you say anything else, answer me this—where have you been for the past four months?”
My stomach dropped. “I...uh...I’ve been in the Nevernever, Guro,” I said, knowing I couldn’t deny it, not with him. “I couldn’t really come back.”
“And your parents?”
“They knew where I was. I told them...before I left.”
“Do they know you are here now?”
“No, Guro.” My voice came out a little choked, and I willed my gut to stop turning. “I’m not...quite finished, with what I have to do.” He continued to watch me, and I stared at my hands. “I...made a mistake a while ago, and a lot of people were hurt. I’m trying to fix it.”
“I see.” Guro laced his fingers under his chin, his expression grave. “Does it have anything to do with what happened four months ago, the night the Hidden World became visible?”
Kenzie and I both jerked. “You know?” Kenzie gasped. “You remember! Can you...” She glanced at Razor, buzzing on her shoulder. “Can you see Them now?”
“No,” Guro said calmly. “When the spirits faded from sight once more, I lost the ability to see Them. But I do remember what happened that night, though everyone else seems to have forgotten.”
“What happened?” I asked. He frowned.
“Chaos,” he said, and his tone sent shivers up my back. “I was teaching class that night,” Guro went on, “when suddenly we heard screaming in the parking lot. When we went to see what was going on, there was a body lying in the road with a strange creature perched atop it.”
“What kind of creature?” I asked, feeling sick. “What did it look like?”
“It was very small, with sharp teeth and pointed ears. It carried a dagger in one claw, and its skin was green.”
“A goblin,” Kenzie muttered, as I felt a stab of dread for where this story was going. Kenzie’s eyes widened, too. “Oh, no,” she said, also guessing this wasn’t going to end well. “What happened to the students? Did they try to catch it?”
“I warned them to leave it alone,” Guro said, “but by the time I reached them, it was too late. The creature became angry, and several more of its kind appeared, right before they attacked. Most of the students escaped with minor cuts to their legs, but...” His eyes darkened. “One boy tripped trying to run, and they swarmed him before I could get there. He was taken to the hospital with multiple stab wounds, but thankfully, they were able to save his life.”
“Oh, God,” I said, and ran both hands through my hair, sick and furious all at once. Was this what you wanted, Keirran? Is this what your perfect faery world looks like? How many more had been hurt? How many had died when the Veil went down? And it was partially my fault. Because I’d been stupid enough to trust Keirran, to believe that he wouldn’t stab me in the back.
Guro’s voice was low with regret as he continued. “By the time the police arrived,” he went on, “the students had already forgotten what they had seen. They could not tell the officers what had attacked them. I knew the truth, but what could I say? They would not believe me. So I told them there were several attackers, that they were small, and they were carrying knives. No one could explain the events of that night or even remember what had happened, but it haunts me every day. I will never forget that boy’s screams as those creatures brought him down.”
“Dammit,” I muttered, and covered my eyes with one hand. “I’m sorry, Guro. I caused this. This is my fault—”
“No,” Guro interrupted. “It is mine. Black magic always leaves its mark. This is the price I must pay for using it.”
I blinked in surprise. For a moment, Guro was silent, brooding as he stared past us with troubled eyes. Finally, he said, in a sorrowful voice, “Your other friend is not here. I assume...you have come to know about the anting-anting?”
I could only nod, though Guro still wasn’t looking at me. He stared at the floor over his folded hands. “Did it kill him?” he asked softly.
“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?”