The Iron Warrior. Julie Kagawa
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looked at me. “Annwyl?”
I shrugged. “Why would she come here and not say anything?”
“I don’t know,” Kenzie murmured, as Razor bobbed on her shoulder, muttering, “Pretty elf, pretty elf.” Her face darkened. “But I think it’s safe to say we have to find her now.”
I nodded, already thinking about where we had to go next when, somewhere behind closed doors, the dogs exploded in a frenzy of barking. And not the excited people are here barks I’d heard dogs make before. This was a snarling, guttural racket, the kind with bared teeth and raised hackles, and it made the hair on my neck stand up.
Razor gave a hiss of alarm and crouched low on Kenzie’s shoulder. Guro rose swiftly, eyes narrowed to dangerous black slits. I leaped to my feet, watching Guro and wondering if I should pull my swords.
“Something is coming,” Guro said, just as a dark shadow slid across the window outside, peering in. It was lean, too lean for a human, with long thin arms and a featureless black body like a spill of living ink. Two bulbous glowing eyes stared out of the dark mass, pupil-less gaze fixed on us all. It raked long fingers down the glass, and my blood turned to ice.
The Forgotten were here.
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