Damn, I was shaking. Clenching my fists, I pushed myself off the trunk, taking a deep breath to slow my pounding heart. “Nothing,” I told her, forcing myself to be calm. “I’m fine. It’s nothing, Annwyl, just adrenaline from the fight.”

And seeing my own death, of course. That’s always an eye-opener. Dammit, I’d never get that vision out of my head; it was imprinted on my mind like a brand, and would be there forever. Myself sprawled at Keirran’s feet, bloody, limp and most assuredly dead, Keirran looking down in horror. I started to shake again, but stopped myself. No. There’s no way I’m going to let that happen. If the Oracle wanted me to see that, there must be a way to avoid it. Otherwise, why would she show me at all? Resolved, I shoved back the fear spreading through me, determined not to turn into a basket case. Whatever. It hasn’t happened yet, and like Kenzie said once: I don’t believe in Fate. I am not going to die, not like that.

“Those creatures.” Annwyl shivered, rubbing her arms as if cold. “They were Forgotten, weren’t they? Why didn’t they attack us?”

“I don’t know,” I muttered, gazing down at the limp pile of rags, all that was left of the Oracle. I found myself thinking that we had just witnessed something huge and terrible, and I wondered if the death of the ancient faery was an ominous sign for everyone. “I guess...they were just after her.”

* * *

We hurried out of the park, wary now for any shadowlike Forgotten as we fled back to my truck. This time, Annwyl scrambled inside without hesitation, and I fished my swords out from under the seat, laying them beside me on the cab. That was it—I was not going anywhere without them again.

I found a hotel fairly close to Bourbon Street—not on it, because the places located down that famous strip would probably be mega expensive—and paid for a room with cash. Even then, it cost way more than I wanted it to, and I tried not to cringe as I handed over the wad of money. I would definitely have to get another job this summer, as it appeared this trip was going to suck my limited funds dry.

Dammit, Keirran. You’d better be worth it.

At least the well-dressed man behind the desk didn’t ask any questions, such as why a seventeen-year-old with no parents in sight needed a room, alone, and handed me a key without hesitation. With Annwyl trailing invisibly behind me, I walked down the narrow orange-and-gold hallway until I found the right door, then pushed my way inside.

The room was small, but at least it was clean, and I tossed my pack on the bed. “Well, we’re here,” I announced, glancing at Annwyl, who was looking around the room curiously. “I guess we’ll just have to hang tight until tonight, unless there’s anything else you want to do.”

I suddenly wondered what Kenzie was doing, if she and her family were already here, walking around, soaking up the local history. All the things you were supposed to do on a family vacation. I wished I could’ve done that with her. This wasn’t a vacation or a pleasure trip for me, not by a long shot, but it would’ve been nice to take my girlfriend to New Orleans. We could go to restaurants, listen to jazz music, visit a museum or take a sightseeing tour; all the normal stuff that I’d probably never get to do.

Annwyl was giving me that appraising look that hinted that she knew what I was thinking or feeling. Maybe my glamour aura was giving me away again. “You miss Kenzie,” she said, confirming my suspicions. I shrugged, and she tilted her head. “Why don’t you call her?” she suggested. “You can do that, can you not? With your...telephones?”

I smiled at the faery’s confusion with the mortal world. She had been in the Nevernever so long, tech and modern conveniences like phones and computers were completely foreign to her. Just as quickly, though, the smile faded. “I can’t,” I said, scrubbing a hand through my hair. “She’s pretty mad at me. I don’t think she’s going to want to talk.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want her going into the goblin market. Not with that creepy thin faery stalking us, and especially not now, with those shadow Forgotten out there. It’s too dangerous.” I remembered Kenzie lying in the hospital room, pale and weak, and my stomach turned. “She’s sick, Annwyl,” I said in a near whisper, at the same time wondering why I was telling this to a faery. “I can’t put her at risk. Not like that.”

Annwyl gave me a very strange, unreadable look, and I frowned. “What?” I challenged, crossing my arms. “What’s that look for?”

“I’m sorry,” Annwyl whispered, and the peculiar stare turned to frustration. “I know you but, I...seem to have forgotten your name. Where...are we?”

And before my horrified gaze, she started to disappear.

* * *

“No!” I lunged for her, grabbing a slender wrist before it became transparent. “Annwyl, look at me,” I demanded, shaking her. She blinked and stared at me with glazed green eyes. “What’s my name?” I asked, holding her tightly. She felt so...fragile. I could see the dresser right through her head and gave her another little shake. “Annwyl, focus! Answer me. What’s my name?”

“I...I don’t know.” Her voice was barely a whisper, her eyes the only spots of color left. Everything else was becoming transparent and pale. “I can’t...remember...anything.”

“Dammit,” I growled. “Don’t do this. Not now.” My fingers slipped through her wrist, and I could only watch helplessly as she grew fainter and fainter. I was losing her. If she Faded out, I didn’t know if she would return. Annwyl stared through me, her expression blank, nearly gone. Desperately, I played my last card. “Keirran!” I burst out. “Do you remember him? The one we’re looking for, who’s out there fighting for you right now. Do you remember Keirran?”

A spark of recognition finally flashed over Annwyl’s face, and she jerked her head up. “Keirran,” she choked out, her eyes filling with horror. “Ethan Chase. Yes, I...remember...”

She shivered, and color returned, washing out the ghostliness, turning her solid again. I slumped in relief. Annwyl turned away, covering her face with her hands, trembling.

I let her be, not knowing what else to do. So this is what Keirran is fighting against, I thought, suddenly understanding him a lot more. Not just for Annwyl, either. For all of them. I remembered his words when we were leaving the Forgotten Queen’s chamber that night. You don’t know how horrible it is for exiles, for all of them, to face nothingness. Losing pieces of yourself every day, until you cease to exist.

Well, I’d seen that firsthand now, and it was pretty horrible. A couple months ago, I wouldn’t have cared about the fate of exiled fey. If they disappeared from the world forever, good. Fewer faeries to torment me.

It was different now.

“I’m sorry,” Annwyl finally whispered, lowering her arms. “I let my guard down. I stopped trying to remember who Kenzie was, who you were, why we’re here. I’m so tired. I want to let go, to stop fighting this.” She sank onto the mattress and bowed her head, long chestnut-colored hair sliding forward to cover her face. “I just want to see Keirran one more time.”

I sat next to her, not touching, but letting her know I was there. “We’ll find him,” I said, hoping I wasn’t making empty promises. “Just hang on a little longer. And who knows? Maybe he’s found something to stop it.”

But Annwyl shuddered. “I hope not,” she murmured. “The price would be so high. And so dangerous. Cheating death, even if it’s not your own...” She shook her head. “Even our kind avoids making that type of bargain at all costs.” She shivered again. “We have to find him, Ethan. Stop him from whatever he’s planning to do. Before he promises something he can’t ever take back.”

“Yeah,” I rasped, standing up. “That’s why we’re here.” Grabbing my backpack, I set it on the bed and rifled through it to make sure I had everything I needed. Besides a change of clothes, my laptop and my toothbrush, I also brought a small canister of salt, several bottles of honey and my old leather journal containing all my research on the fey. Digging it out, I flipped it open to a blank page and scribbled: Laffite’s Blacksmith Shop—entrance to goblin market. Go in left door, turn widdershins 3 times, leave thru right door. I paused a moment, tapping my pen on the paper, then also wrote down: Dryads of City Park—3 oaks near edge of pond; be polite.

And under that: Who was the Oracle? What is the prophecy?

My pen wavered as the Oracle’s vision crept up again: me dead on the ground at Keirran’s feet. Keirran covered in blood but looking unharmed. And Annwyl’s comments about the fey’s price for cheating death cast a sudden, dark thought into my mind.

What if Keirran was the one to...

I shook my head, snapping the journal shut. No, I wouldn’t think about that. That vision could be anything. Even if it was true, what was I going to do? Leave? Refuse to help him and Annwyl? Abandon Keirran to whatever crazy, dangerous thing he might be doing out there? I couldn’t. He was family. I owed it to him, and Annwyl, and even Meghan, to help.

Stuffing the journal into the pack again, I turned to Annwyl, still sitting on the bed. “Come on,” I told her, making her look up in surprise. “I’m starving. Before I go looking for a market full of bloodthirsty goblins, I at least want breakfast.”

* * *

My phone didn’t ring all afternoon. Except one time at the coffee shop, when I got an irate call from Dad because I hadn’t let them know I made it to New Orleans. I debated whether or not to call Kenzie, but each time decided against it. She was probably still pissed at me. Besides, she was likely with her family now, touring the streets of New Orleans. She didn’t need me hanging around.

Still, I found myself gazing out the window of the small coffee shop, looking for a girl with blue streaks in her hair. Even now, hours away from walking into a street teeming with dangerous fey and forbidden items, I couldn’t stop thinking of her. I wondered if she would even want me around after this. I’d screwed this boyfriend thing up big-time, but if it meant keeping her safe, I would deal with the terrible wrath I knew was coming. Maybe she wouldn’t be able to get past this. She might dump me, and the saddest thing was, that was probably for the best.