The Lost Prince

“I’m…not even sure I can explain it.” I ran my hands through my hair, trying to gather my thoughts. Why had I come here? Did I think Guro would believe me if I started talking about invisible faeries? “Do you remember what you said in the locker room that night? About not trusting what your eyes tell you?” I paused to see his reaction, but I didn’t get much; he just nodded for me to go on. “Well…something was after me. Something that no one else can see. Invisible things.”



“What type of invisible things?”



I hesitated, reluctant to use the word faery, knowing how crazy I already sounded. “Some people call them the Fair Folk. The Gentry. The Good Neighbors.” No reaction from Guro, and I felt my heart sink. “I know it sounds insane, but I’ve always been able to see them, since I was a little kid. And They know I can see them, too. They’ve been after me all this time, and I don’t think I can run from them any longer.”



Guro was silent a moment. Then he said, very softly: “Does this have anything to do with what happened at the tournament?”



I looked up, a tiny spring of hope flaring in my chest. Guro didn’t smile. “You were being chased, weren’t you?” he asked solemnly. “I saw you. You and the girl both. I saw you run out the back door, and I saw something strike you just as you went outside.”



“How—”



“Your blood was on the door frame.” Guro’s voice was grave, and I heard the worry behind it. “That, if anything, told me what I saw was real. I followed you out, but by the time I reached the back lot, you were both gone.”



I held my breath.



“My grandfather, the Mang-Huhula who trained me, he would often tell me stories of spirits, creatures invisible to the naked eye. He said there is a whole unknown world that exists around us, side by side, and no one knows it is there. Except for a few. A very rare few, who can see what no one else can. And the spirits of this world can be helpful or harmful, friendly or wicked, but above all, those who see the invisible world are constantly trapped by it. They will always walk between two lives, and they will have to find a way to balance them both.”



“Do they ever succeed?” I asked bitterly.



“Sometimes.” Guro’s voice didn’t change. “But they often have help. If they can accept it.”



I chewed my lip, trying to put my thoughts into words. “I don’t know what to do, Guro,” I said at last. “I’ve been trying to stay away from all this—I didn’t want to get involved. But they’re threatening my friends and family now. I’m going to have to fight them, or they’ll never leave me alone. I’m just… I’m scared of what they’ll do to my family if I don’t do something.”



Guro didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he stood and left the room for several minutes, while I sat on the couch and wondered if he was calling the police. If my story was still too crazy for him to accept, despite his apparent belief in “the invisible world.” I was wondering if I should get Kenzie and Keirran and just leave, when he reappeared holding a flat wooden box. Setting it reverently on the coffee table between us, he looked at me with a serious expression.



“Remember when I told you I do not teach kali for violence?” he asked. I nodded.



“What do I teach it for?”



“Self-defense,” I recited. Guro nodded at me to go on. “To…pass on the culture. To make sure the skills don’t fade away.” Guro still waited. My answers were correct, but I still wasn’t saying what he wanted.



“And?”



I racked my brain for a few seconds, before I had it. “To protect your family,” I said quietly. “To defend the ones you care about.”



Guro smiled. Bending forward, he flipped the latches on the case and pulled back the top.



I drew in a slow breath. The swords lay there on the green felt, nestled in their leather sheaths. The same blades I had used in the tournament.



Guro’s gaze flickered to me. “These are yours,” he explained. “I had them made a few years after you joined the class. I had a feeling you might need them someday.” He smiled at my astonishment. “They have no history, not yet. That will be up to you. And someday, hopefully, you can pass them down to your son.”



I unstrapped the swords and picked them up in a daze. I could feel the balance, the lethal sharpness of the edges, and I gripped the hilts tightly. Rising, I gave them a practice twirl, hearing the faint hum of the blades cutting through the air. They were still perfectly balanced, fitting into my hands like they’d been waiting for me all along. I couldn’t help but smile, seeing my reflection in the polished surface of the weapons.



Okay, now I was ready to face whatever those glamour-sucking bastards could throw at me.



“One more thing.” Guro reached into the box and pulled out a small metal disk hanging from a leather thong. A triangle was etched into the center of the disk, and between the lines was a strange symbol I didn’t recognize.



“For protection,” Guro said, holding it up. “This kept my grandfather safe, and his father before him. It will protect you now, as well.”



Guro draped the charm around my neck. It was surprisingly heavy, the metal clinking against my iron cross as I tucked it into my shirt. “Thank you,” I murmured.



“Whatever you have to face, Ethan, you don’t have to do it alone.”



Embarrassed now, I looked down. Guro seemed to pick up on my unease, for he turned away, toward the hall. “Come. Let’s see what your friends have gotten themselves into.”



* * *



Keirran was in the kitchen, sitting at the counter with his elbows resting on the granite surface, a mug of something hot near his elbow. The little girl sat next to him, scrawling on a sheet of paper with a crayon, and the half-faery—the prince of the Iron Realm—seemed wholly intrigued by it.



“A…lamia?” he asked as I came up behind him, peering over his shoulder. A squat, four-legged thing with two heads stood amid a plethora of crayon drawings, looking distinctly unrecognizable.



The kid frowned at him. “A pony, silly.”



“Oh, of course. Silly me. What else can you draw?”



“Hey,” I muttered, as the little girl huffed and started scribbling again. “Where’s Kenzie?”



“In the office,” Keirran replied, glancing up at me. “She asked if she could use the computer for a little while. I think she’s researching the park. You should go check on her.”



I smirked. “You gonna be okay out here?”



“There!” announced the girl, straightening triumphantly. “What’s that?”



Keirran smiled and waved me off. I left the kitchen, nodding politely to Guro’s wife as I wandered down the hall, hearing Keirran’s hopeless guesses of dragons and manticores fade behind me.



I found Kenzie in a small office, sitting at a desk in the corner, the two dogs curled around her chair. The younger lab raised his blocky head and thumped his tail, but Kenzie and the older dog didn’t move. Her eyes were glued to the computer screen, one hand on the mouse as it glided over the desk. Releasing it, she typed something quickly, slender fingers flying over the keys, before hitting Enter. The current screen vanished and another took its place. The lab sat up and put his big head on her knee, looking up at her hopefully. Her gaze didn’t stray from the computer screen, but she paused to scratch his ears. He groaned and panted against her leg.



I eased into the room. Reaching into my shirt, I withdrew Guro’s amulet, pulling it over my head. Stepping up behind Kenzie, I draped it gently around her neck. She jerked, startled.



“Ethan? Jeez, I didn’t hear you come in. Make some noise next time.” She glanced at the strange charm hanging in front of her. “What’s this?”



“A protection amulet. Guro gave it to me, but I want you to have it.”



“Are you sure?”



“Yeah.” I felt the weight of the swords at my waist. “I already have what I need.” Looking past her to the computer screen, I leaned forward, bracing myself on the desk and chair. “What are you looking up?”



She turned back to the screen. “Well, I wanted to see if there was a place in Central Park that might be the nest or something. Thomas said something about a ‘big dark,’ so I wondered if maybe he meant the underground or something like that. I did some digging—” she scrolled the mouse over a link and clicked “—and I found something very interesting. Look at this.”



I peered at the screen. “There’s a cave? In Central Park?”



“Somewhere in the section called the Ramble.” Kenzie scrolled down the site. “Not many people know about it, and it was sealed off a long time ago, but yeah…there’s a cave in Central Park.”



Suddenly, both dogs raised their heads and growled, long and low. Kenzie and I tensed, but neither of them were looking at us. At once, they bolted out of the room, barking madly, claws scrabbling over the floor. In the kitchen, the little girl screamed.



We rushed into the room. Keirran was on his feet, standing in front of the girl, while Guro’s wife shouted something over the racket of the barking dogs. Both animals were in front of the refrigerator, going nuts. The younger lab was bouncing off the door as it barked and howled, trying to reach something on top.



A pair of electric green eyes glared down from the top of the freezer, and a spindly black form hissed at the two dogs below.



“No! Bad dogs! Bad! Go away!” it buzzed, and Keirran rushed forward.



“Razor! What are you doing here?”



“Master!” the gremlin howled, waving his long arms hopelessly. “Master help!”



I cringed. This was the last thing I’d wanted—to pull Guro and his family into this craziness. We had to get out of here before it went any further.



Grabbing Keirran’s arm, I yanked him toward the door. “We’re leaving,” I snapped as he turned on me in surprise. “Right now! Tell your gremlin to follow us. Guro,” I said as my instructor appeared in the door, frowning at the racket, “I have to go. Thank you for everything, but we can’t stay here any longer.”