Uncertain Allies (28 page)

40

Wind roared as I fell through the sky. Smoke and fire blurred around me in a dirty smear of orange and black. I was going to die. No rush of images cascaded through my mind, no marching panorama of my life’s highlights. I thought how strangely beautiful the Guildhouse looked as it crumbled in smoke and flame. I closed my eyes, feeling the rush of gravity pull me to the street below. It wasn’t going to be pretty. I hoped I didn’t hit anyone. At least I was going out in a blaze.

A blue haze of essence around me, the essence of the Dead coming to call me home. My eyes flew open as a turbulent air knocked against me, batting me from side to side. The fractured street pavement grew closer, larger, before wind shear blurred tears into my eyes. Something pressed against my back, like I wasn’t falling fast enough and needed a push. The blue essence blossomed around me as I rushed into the embrace of the Dead. The ground moved below, a nauseating shift toward my feet, then flashed by as I skimmed over the street and surged into the air.

Remain calm,
Ceridwen sent.

I laughed. Remaining calm was so obviously the right course. I had fallen off a burning building and plunged toward my death. I laughed with a sound tinged with madness and disbelief as rough hands gripped my back.

Ceridwen banked away from the smoking building and set down at the opposite end of the square. Chaos filled the streets, people fighting with essence or scattering in fear. Police officers tried to enforce order, only to stare in stark awe when they caught sight of the Guildhouse.

The Guildhouse burned. The upper stories were gone, lost in smoldering stone heaped on the street and sidewalk. Gaping holes belched smoke from where towers used to be. Guild agents swarmed and hovered, darting in to retrieve anyone that appeared in a window or broken opening. The ground trembled, a deep rumble that intensified. The Guildhouse contracted about the middle, a slow, inward shift of wall and tower. With the sound of a raging storm, the Guildhouse shed the remains of its outer walls, pulling the rest of the building with it.

A towering pall of angry gray smoke shot from the implosion. I thrust my hands out, an instinctive warding off of the heat and debris, as a boiling mountain of ash and smoke rolled toward me. My body shield triggered—my full body shield—bursting around me in a crystalline barrier of deep gold. The smoke spilled over me like a wave hitting a cliff, then raced up the street and swallowed the remaining fighters. It passed, becoming less dense, but not dispersing.

My head burned with a cold fire. I trembled with power, but a power I didn’t understand. Something had changed. I not only had my body shield back, I could control it. I didn’t have time to question it but was glad of it. The dark mass felt different, like it was generating energy instead of absorbing it. My skin danced with an electric sheen.

Ceridwen lay on the ground not far off, no spark of essence in her body. I leaned over and felt for a pulse. She was dead again. I stared for a moment, then left her there. She was Dead. She would wake up in the morning as if nothing had happened.

I stalked toward what was left of the Guildhouse. Firefighters wandered through the smoke, empty-handed and helpless, their trucks and gear buried under rubble. Shattered walls rose ghostlike around me. I circled around burning stone to the front entrance. It was gone, nothing left but the fractured remains of the dragon head. The lobby was gone, too, a crater of fire burning where bored receptionists once sat.

Shocked, I fell to my knees. I stared, trying to make sense of what I was seeing—what I was not seeing. Endless piles of stone and fire rose around me. Smoke bled through the filter of my body shield and irritated my eyes. The only sounds were the crackle of fire and the high-pitched beeping of rescue-worker alarms. I don’t know how long I sat there before someone touched my shoulder.

“Connor? Are you all right, buddy?”

I lifted my head, the world asserting itself around me like I was waking from a deep sleep. Murdock stared at me, his face filthy and scratched.

“Yes,” I said.

“Are you sure? You were screaming,” he said.

“She was in the basement,” I said.

Horror etched across his face as he stared into the fire. I got to my feet. “I have to get to the subway,” I said.

“It’s collapsed,” he said, his voice rough.

“I have to get to the subway,” I said.

I wandered out into the square. Haze filled the air. I didn’t remember anything about the walk from Park Square to the Boylston Street T station except stumbling through debris, Murdock beside me like a shadow. Transit workers stood at the entrance, directing people several blocks away to where buses waited. A man stood in front of me as I tried to enter.

“Move,” I said. I didn’t raise my voice, but it sounded odd in my ears. His face went blank, almost ashen, and he stepped aside. Murdock caught my arm as I walked down the stairs where a gate was open to the platform. I didn’t bother using the gap in the fence, but walked onto the tracks and into the tunnel. Smoke trailed along the ceiling. I kept my body shield on until I reached the concrete niche, and we stepped through the glamour.

It was a long, dark walk down the stairs to the tunnel passage. Dim light marked the end, a dull glow of emergency lights. Murdock and I entered the empty office. We stared at dust hanging in air, the computer monitor flickering blue. I went into the outside corridor and froze.

Meryl ran down the hall and into my arms. I hugged her in shocked relief like I had never hugged anyone before. She tilted her face toward mine, surprise coming over her features.

“Holy shit, what happened to your eyes?” she asked.

41

I spun a rack of sunglasses and found a pair of designer knockoffs I liked. They covered the upper half of my face with wide dark lenses but didn’t make me look like I was on a bus tour for retirees. I handed the vendor a few bills. As I pushed back into the crowded lane, someone stared a little too long. Anxiety twinged at me, but I tamped it down. Everyone stared in the Tangle. It was part of the game. People pretended not to notice each other and avoided conversation but cast sidelong glances at anyone near them.

Intermittent pressure pushed at my mind. Despite everything else, scrying still bothered me. My body shield protected me from the pain, but I hadn’t learned to ignore the constant irritation yet.

I reached the end of the stalls and slipped through an essence barrier across a doorway. Silence surrounded me in the empty tunnel. At the exit, another barrier let me through to an outside street. The air held the scent of sea and smoke, but it was fresher than the contained alleyway of the market. I turned the corner onto the main drag of the Tangle and tugged my hat down.

Within a few minutes, Meryl was beside, matching my stride. She paused to examine some apothecary wares at a decrepit stall. The vendor dressed in rags and spoke in broken Welsh. Meryl bartered with him in his dialect until a stone was exchanged for a small bottle containing deep purple leaves. She slipped it in her pocket.

“He doesn’t appear to be a purveyor of fine goods,” I said.

She looked at me from beneath her bangs. “On the contrary, he’s one of my best suppliers. The look and the talk are all bogus. It keeps the fools and timid away.”

I pulled her into the shadow of a boarded-up storefront and kissed her. “I’ve missed you.”

She leaned against me with a smile. “One of these days, Grey, you’ll live somewhere with air freshener and maybe a bed, and I’ll visit more often.”

“I have a bed now,” I said.

She tugged at my jacket. “Something bigger than a twin, please.”

“Any updates from Gillen Yor?” I asked. Three nights ago, I had snuck into Avalon Memorial for an exam. Gillen thought it best to be discreet. I was a wanted criminal again. MacGoren had accused me of complicity in the destruction of the Guildhouse, and Briallen’s denials were falling on deaf ears. I didn’t blame her for anything. It was out of her control. It was out of everyone’s control.

Meryl gazed at the passing crowd. “Gillen thinks you still have the dark mass. There’s something else in there now, a chunk of essence that burns blue. I saw the MRI scan. It looks like a sun in eclipse.”

“It’s the faith stone,” I said.

She gave me a lopsided grin. “Yeah, you have a rock in your head.”

I feigned a pout. “Technically, it’s a gem.”

Meryl tilted her head up. “Take off those glasses.”

I pushed them up on the fold of my knit cap. Meryl’s eyes shifted back and forth as she stared into mine. My irises had crystallized, facets of light blue framed in lines of white. When the light hit them right, flashes of red, yellow, and blue twinkled. They reminded me of the eyes of an Old One, the sign of long life and ancient ability. Only, I didn’t have any ability. The pain of the dark mass was gone, replaced by a cold pulsation. At least my body shield was back—my full body shield. Whatever the faith stone was doing to the dark mass, it was letting me access the shield again. Without other abilities, it was a comfort.

Her smile faded, and she looked away. “Does it hurt?”

I frowned. “Did Gillen say I was dying?”

She dropped her head against my chest. “No, but that doesn’t mean I’m not worried.”

“It doesn’t hurt, at least not the same. I don’t really feel it. It’s like it’s weightless,” I said.

“These things tend to be metaphors for the power they represent. It’s not really a stone. We see what we need to see to make sense of the ineffable. It’s power that was embodied by the stone, but it’s all energy now,” she said.

I hugged her. “I always get nervous when you get religion.”

She giggled. “Nice to know I can make the guy who killed the Elven King nervous.”

“I was trying to stop him,” I said.

She rose on her toes and kissed. “I know. I was trying to lighten the conversation before I left.”

I tugged at her waist. “Do you have to go?”

“I’m still shoring up the power wards in the Archives. I don’t want to lose anything else,” she said.

Manus ap Eagan had used the faith stone to strengthen the Guildhouse and reinforce the shield dome. When Donor took the stone, it didn’t affect the subbasements because they were part of the original design, dug deep underground for stability in the landfill of old marshland. Despite an entire building’s collapsing, the Archive storerooms had survived with minimal damage.

“Have you told anyone they’re still there?” I asked.

She chuckled. “Nah. I figure I have at least a couple of months to play before they dig them out. It’ll give me a chance to do all the filing I keep not doing.” She kissed me again. “Murdock says hi, by the way. He said to tell you this all has a purpose, and it’s not for us to judge.”

He meant not for him to judge. He wasn’t buying the party line that I had destroyed a neighborhood. “He’s a good guy.”

Meryl danced away from me. “No, he’s a
great
guy. And so are you. I’ll be back in a few days. Try not to kill or be killed while I’m away.”

I smiled. “Will do.”

I waited until she disappeared from sight before leaving the storefront. I put my glasses back on and wandered a circuitous route through the streets, weaving in and out of alleys, through basements and abandoned buildings. Finally, I slid through an essence barrier to a room furnished with a table with a few chairs, an old couch, and a—twin—bed. The light from the window shimmered with a sallow tint from the ambient essence endemic to the Tangle.

I slumped on the couch, exhausted. The last week had been filled with running and hiding, dodging everyone from the Boston police to Guild security agents to Consortium warriors. Briallen couldn’t take me in without drawing heat down on herself, and we both needed her to be able to operate in the open. My apartment was an obvious no-go zone. Every major law-enforcement agency, fey and human alike, had my face on a wanted poster.

After abandoning one hiding place after another, I had gone to ground in the Tangle, lost among the lost, secure in a nest of criminals and thugs. While the living feared and hated me, the Dead embraced me with open arms. How long that would last, I couldn’t guess, but it wouldn’t last. Doubt had become the nature of my World.

The Wheel of the World didn’t turn, but twisted and spiraled until everything I thought I knew became confused beyond recognition. Friends became enemies, and enemies, friends. Whom to trust and whom to suspect became a game of odds, a precarious knife-edge of uncertain allies, ready to stand by me or not.

Ceridwen entered and placed two stone wards on the table. She no longer looked like the haughty fairy queen who had arrived in Boston determined to take me down. She retained the air of superiority all Dananns had, but months underground and building an army had hardened her appearance. Seeing the transition, I understood now why Maeve appeared to be such a bitch. A fairy at war was a formidable thing to behold. “These will reinforce your security alarms,” she said.

“Thank you.” I touched her arm, meaning it as no more than to show my appreciation for giving me safe harbor. A jolt went through me as a sliver of white light burned in my head. By Ceridwen’s reaction, it happened to her, too. We had both held the spear and bonded to it in our own ways. Something about touching each other called the spear from wherever it disappeared to when it was gone.

The air in the room crackled with the sharp scent of ozone. Essence burst from the ceiling as the spear plunged down and embedded itself in the floor between us. It glowed white-hot, bristling with energy, then sank through the floor, oozing out a pool of essence before it vanished. The pool coalesced into a smoldering amorphous lump of essence that pulsed and shivered.

“The poor thing,” Ceridwen said. She stooped and picked up the lumpy mass and cradled it against her chest. The shape burned with intensity but didn’t hurt her.

“What the hell is that?” I asked.

Ceridwen shushed me, giving me her shoulder as she hummed under her breath. The shape dimmed and stretched, appendages appearing and flailing at the air. It contracted as she chanted. A burst of pink essence blinded me a moment. When my vision cleared, a sound came out of me, one I didn’t hear from myself often. My throat thickened, my chest aching with emotion as I suppressed another sob. “Is he all right?”

Ceridwen lowered Joe onto the bed with gentle care.

“He’s fine. He needed to remember what he was,” she said. He slept, his wings spread flat, his mouth wide open. He looked how he always looked with a hangover.

Ceridwen moved to the window. Beyond the rooftops across the way, a blue haze shimmered to the southwest. “The humans have moved their troops into position on this end of the Weird. Eorla’s people are watching the perimeter, and I am maintaining the shield for her. For both of us,” she said.

Donor had accomplished his goal. Eorla was being blamed for the destruction of the Guildhouse, with me as her accomplice. They were still counting the dead. The story suited Maeve, and she railed against terrorists in press release after press release. The Teutonic Consortium played the same theme with more emphasis on the role of solitary fairies. For once, both sides acted together.

The official story was that Ambassador Aldred Core died in the collapse. The true story was Donor Elfenkonig, the Elven King, was dead. No one knew outside a small circle of fey and maybe a select human or two. Maeve kept her silence, waiting to see who would take the reins now that her chief adversary was gone.

I tore my gaze away from Joe. “Will you promise not to hurt the humans?” I asked.

Her lips pulled into a taut line. “In war, one can never make such promises.”

“You’re not at war with them,” I said.

She glanced at me with understanding. “I know what you’re feeling, Grey. I know what it means to protect people who depend on you. The failure to do so is the pain of leadership, but the Wheel of the World turns as It will. I will do my best to keep this between me and Maeve. That is all I can promise.”

I glanced back at Joe.

“That will have to be enough,” I said.