“Sounds pretty awful,” I commented. The Thin Man ignored me.
“But then, several years ago, something came through my town that never should have been there, and something left that should have remained there forever. Because I let it go, that ripple awakened a long-sleeping darkness. A darkness that was never meant to stir. And now she is in the world again, and the things that had nearly Faded away are coming back.” The Thin Man’s gaze sharpened even more. “Even worse, because of my mistake, something was born into Faery that never should have been. A catalyst with the power to change everything.”
“So what does that have to do with me?” I asked.
The Thin Man blinked that large, pale eye. “It is the smallest things that are often the most important, Ethan Chase,” he said. “The cornerstones that will topple the whole tower. The prophecy cannot come to pass without him, and if I take away his reason to fight, the flame that keeps him going will flicker and die. The Forgotten will Fade back into the Deep Wyld once more, and all will be as it should.”
Prophecy? I felt cold. Suddenly, Meghan’s warnings, Keirran’s own words that everyone knew something he didn’t, made a lot more sense. “What prophecy?” I rasped, and the Thin Man looked at me in surprise.
“You don’t know? Surely the Iron Queen would have told you.” He paused then, as if just figuring something out. “Ahhhh,” he breathed, nodding. “No, she would not. Of course she would not, not something like this.”
“What?” I snapped. “What isn’t she telling me? What is she keeping from both of us?”
The faery steepled long fingers together. “I will tell you, Ethan Chase. I can tell you the prophecy, and your part in it, for a price.”
Dammit. Should’ve seen this coming. My knee-jerk instinct was to refuse. That was my number one rule: never make a bargain with the fey, under any circumstance.
But this prophecy sounded bad. And a lot bigger than I had imagined. “What price?” I asked warily. The Thin Man smiled.
“A small thing. Simply remove the wards you have put up and allow me to collect what I’ve come for. I will be on my way after that.”
Remove the wards. Let the faery into the house. Why would he want...
Wait. He was talking about Keirran. The catalyst, the power that could change everything, was Keirran. And Keirran’s reason to fight was... “Annwyl,” I guessed, anger and horror spreading through me. “You’re here for Annwyl.”
“The Summer girl is already Fading,” the Thin Man said patiently. “Her end has begun. You cannot stop it. He cannot stop it. This mad quest, his determination to halt the Fade, for exiles and Forgotten, must cease. You cannot fight inevitability. Once she is gone, the Iron Prince’s spark will die, and he will forget why he wanted to save the exiles in the first place.”
“Or you’ll piss him off so badly he’ll do something really stupid.”
“That is a chance I am willing to take.”
“Well, I’m not.” I stepped back, putting a hand on the doorknob. “And I’m sure as hell not turning Annwyl over to you. So go away. You’re not getting into my house, and you’re not getting anywhere near Annwyl or my family.”
The Thin Man gave a heavy sigh. “Foolish boy. Very well. Delay the inevitable awhile longer, if you wish. But the girl will Fade, and until that time, I will make sure she never sees the Iron Prince again.”
With that, he turned to face me head-on...and disappeared.
Making a mental note to strengthen the hell out of the wards later, I hurried back to my room.
“Annwyl?” I called again, pushing open the door. “Are you here?”
She looked up from the bed, moss-green eyes wide and frightened. Relieved, I shut the door, locking it behind me just in case. “He was here, wasn’t he?” she whispered. “The Thin Man. I could feel him, like an emptiness, sucking away at me.”
“Where were you?” I asked. “Didn’t you hear me looking for you earlier?”
The faery blinked at me, confused. “I...I never left the room,” she said. “I was here all day. Or I was, until...”
She glanced at the book, dropped and lying forgotten on the pillow, and her face paled. “I wasn’t here,” she whispered, horror creeping over her. “I...Faded out for a few minutes.”
She might’ve been fey, and she might’ve been Keirran’s sort-of girlfriend, but at that moment she looked more like a frightened girl than an ancient Summer sidhe. “Look, we’ll figure this out,” I promised. “One way or another. Once we find Keirran, we’ll try to find a cure for this.”
She gave me a shaky smile. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “I’m grateful, Ethan Chase. But there is no cure. No hope. I’m only fighting the inevitable.”
Her words had an eerily familiar ring to them, much like the conversation I’d just had with the Thin Man. “You can’t just give up,” I told her. “Keirran is out there fighting for you. He wouldn’t want you to roll over and let it win.”
“Keirran...” Annwyl closed her eyes. “This is wrong,” she murmured. “He shouldn’t be trying to save me. Not after...”
She paused, biting her lip, and I frowned. “Not after what?”
“Not after he’s already done so much,” she finished, and I knew she was lying. Well, not lying, since technically the fey couldn’t tell an outright lie. But there were a thousand ways to bend and dance around the truth, and they were experts in all of them. It was one of the key things that made them so dangerous.