Page 10 of The Last Kelpie

“That was taken in 1876.” Julian leaned over to peer at it. “Handsome isn't he?”

“Yes, but this isn't his true form.” I picked up the picture of the horse. “This is him, isn't it?”

Julian chuckled. “He was born of human belief, Ethan. Yes, the horse was his first form, but he was never a mere horse. When his clan developed the skill to shapeshift, they took forms that both appealed to them and matched the people of the area. Since he was born of the minds of the Scottish people, you could say that this form is more him than the horse.”

I put the photos back in their package, not liking how his words reassured me. “Perhaps. I guess it doesn't matter when you're dealing with a myth.”

“There's one more thing.” Julian's voice dropped lower, going serious in a way that made the hair on my arms stand up. “I have to warn you about the Forgotten.”

I closed the folder and looked up at him. “The Forgotten?”

“Science has proven that energy can't be created or destroyed, only transformed. Our energy was transformed into myths. So, when a myth fades away, they don't just die. They become something else.” He moved closer, and I could smell the mint tea on his breath. “The Forgotten are myths who faded. They have no names, no memories, and no one left to remember them. They become empty shells. And they're desperate.”

“Desperate for what?”

“To be what they were. To be solid, living beings. The Forgotten hunt myths because they recognize and crave their energy. They're drawn to what they once were, and they'll consume it. We believe they do it to fill the emptiness inside them. It's instinctive.”

My stomach turned over. “They eat other myths?”

“In a sense. They drain them. Take everything that makes a myth what they are.” He paused. “It's what every Velascan fears. Not death, but erasure. A myth can fade, but we will still have their stories, kept safe in the Great Archive. However, when a Forgotten consumes a myth, they erase the myth's existence. If we have stories of them, they vanish. If there are other myths like them, their stories and those of their race will remain, but the individual is lost forever.”

I thought of Áedán, alone at Loch Lomond, the last of his kind. An easy target. “Have you ever seen one?”

“Once.” Julian's face went blank. “In Wales, about ten years ago. We were trying to document a myth who'd gone into hiding. We found them seconds too late. We arrived to find the Forgotten consuming the myth. I can't even tell you what myth it was because as soon as the Forgotten finished consuming it, our memories of the myth disappeared. We stood there, facing the Forgotten, knowing what had happened, what had to have happened, but with no memory of who it had happened to. Even our assignment files had vanished from our bags.”

The room felt colder. I pulled my jacket tighter. “What do they look like?”

“Like shadowy people whose features have been erased. You can't focus on them. Every time you try, they dissolve into ash. They're there and not there at the same time.” Julian's voice was quiet now. Almost a whisper. “If you ever see one of the Forgotten and you're with a myth, grab the myth and run. There is no fighting them, no way to kill something that isn't alive.”

I nodded, my mouth gone dry. “When do I leave?”

“Tomorrow, if you're ready by then. We've arranged accommodation in Luss, a village on the western shore of Loch Lomond. You'll have access to our research on kelpie mythology, historical accounts, and everything we have on Áedán specifically.” Julian handed me a second, thicker file. “Read this tonight. Familiarize yourself with what we know. But remember, Ethan—what's in those files is history. The myth you meet tomorrow is a person. Treat him like one.”

I took the second file. It was heavy, stuffed with papers and photographs and what looked like hand-drawn maps. My hands were shaking slightly. I tried to stop them.

“You'll do well.” Julian put a hand on my shoulder. “Trust your instincts. Listen more than you speak. And remember—he's more real than you or I.”

I nodded. Tried to look more confident than I felt.

Julian walked me to the door, then paused with his hand on the handle. “One last thing. This is in the file, but I want to emphasize how important this is.” He looked at me, and his expression was serious. “Enter the water only if invited. Kelpies are territorial, and the loch is Áedán's domain. If you go in after him without permission, he'll see it as a threat.”

“I understand.”

“Good.” Julian opened the door. The hallway beyond was empty, quiet. Somewhere in the building, I could hear voices, laughter, the ordinary sounds of people living their lives. “Get some rest tonight. Tomorrow, you'll leave for Scotland. Rory should be downstairs in the dining hall waiting for you. He'll see you to your room.”

I went downstairs and stopped in the doorway to the dining hall, suddenly realizing that I didn't know who Rory was. Luckily, he'd been told to watch for me, and I was barely there a minute before a young man with curly ginger hair, freckles, and sea-green eyes bounded up to me like a cocker spaniel.

“You're Ethan, right? I got your luggage over there.” He grabbed my hand, shook it vigorously, and then smacked a wrapped parcel into it. “I'm Rory. That's a sandwich Mateo made for you. Come on, I'll take you to your room.” He dove to the right and grabbed my suitcases that were sitting to the side of the doorway, and led me out of the dining hall.

Rory talked the whole way across the estate and into building three. Up to the second floor he went, and I had to tear my eyes away from him as I followed. Despite his youthful face and enthusiasm, Rory's body was that of a grown man. Who lifted weights. And was blessed with a beautiful ass.

He pointed out the lounge on the second floor, stocked with food and drinks in case I didn't want to go down to the dining hall. Then he took me down the corridor, opened a door on the left, and showed me into a room with an en suite bath and a kitchenette. I plopped my suitcases on the floor.

“I'm always around if you get lost or have any questions.” He handed me a key on a keychain with a V on one side and my apartment number on the back.

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

Rory slanted a look down my body and grinned wider. “Sure thing.” Then he was gone.