Undone Deeds (17 page)

Several streaks of essence burst from the surrounding buildings as other fairies investigated our odd movements. The Danann lost most of them with small effort but dove to street level a few times to shake off the fastest of the pursuers. Several miles later, he slowed to a more comfortable speed and banked northwest toward Brookline. Without further incident, he dropped me off on the front steps of Eagan’s mansion and disappeared into the night.

Tibbet opened the door as I stepped up, a smile failing to hide her worry. She was Eagan’s everywoman—assistant, attorney, administrator, and defender. She was also one hot brownie, tall for her species, with a tawny complexion that set off her warm eyes. Tibs and I were old friends and shared the intimacy of old lovers who had parted on good terms. She hugged me, her long, tiny braids tickling my nose. “Hey, handsome,” she said.

“Hello, gorgeous,” I said.

She took my hand and led me inside. I slipped my arm around her. She rested her head against my shoulder. “It’s hard to see him like this.”

“Has there been any change?” I asked.

“None of it good. Did Gillen tell you what happened?”

“No. He just said to come,” I said.

“I was dozing in the chair last night, and he sent your name to me. It was faint but clear,” she said.

“Just my name?” I asked.

“Yes. I contacted Gillen because it was the only sign of life from him in months. He’s still in there, Connor. He’s not gone,” she said.

I hugged her close. Tibbet had been with Eagan for longer than I had been alive. She kept his life running, and he kept her life interesting. If I couldn’t imagine either of them without the other, I couldn’t imagine what Tibs thought. “He’s a tough old crow, Tibs. Anyone else would have given in by now.”

She nodded into my shoulder. “I tell myself that every day since he fell ill. I almost lost you both that night, and when it happened again, I feared the worst.”

We swayed back and forth as I caressed her hair. The night Scott Murdock died, Tibs had been amazing. She took immediate control of the situation, dealing with the police, taking care of Eagan, and protecting me. She had stood up to the angry Murdock brothers, the governor, and the acting police commissioner, and coordinated medical care, all in the space of hours. As I reflected back on that night, I paused. “Tibs, what do you mean ‘again’?”

She pulled away, wiping tears from her face. “The Solstice Party. I thought I was going to lose the two of you.”

I stared down at her. “You said ‘again,’ Tibs. What do you mean ‘again’?”

She brushed hair back from my forehead. “The night you fought Bergin Vize at the nuclear plant.”

“Eagan fell ill that same night?” I asked.

Her eyebrows drew down together. “Yes. It was chaos. I was getting sendings about your being in critical condition. People from the Guildhouse couldn’t reach Manus. I thought he was ignoring everyone because he was concerned about you, but when I went to check in with him, I found him collapsed here in the grand hall.”

“What did he say?”

She shrugged. “Nothing. Refused to talk about it.”

“How come I didn’t know this?” I asked.

She gave me a wry smile. “You were in the hospital for weeks. We had to deal with the state authorities because of the power grid going down. Time…. I don’t know…. passed. I guess by the time you woke up, it didn’t seem important when things happened. Keeva never mentioned it?”

“She knew?”

“Sure. She was here that night—complaining about you, as a matter of fact. She said you weren’t supposed to be there. Is that true?”

“Yes. I’d forgotten,” I said. Keeva was supposed to take the lead on the next Vize appearance. When we were partners, we used to argue about who was leading an investigation, so we agreed that we would take turns. When we had word Vize might be in the Boston area, I couldn’t resist. He had gotten away from me before, then he was on my home turf. I held back information from Keeva and went to the nuclear power plant alone. I didn’t remember thinking that was stupid then.

Tibbet frowned. “You sound so suspicious, Connor. What’s going on?”

“Think about it, Tibs. Whatever happened to me that night gave me the dark mass in my head, and Eagan went down with it the same night. Don’t you think that’s more than coincidence?”

“Sure, now that you point it out. I never made the connection.”

I looked at the bed. “The bigger question is why didn’t Eagan?”

She glanced up at the balcony above the main hall. “I don’t know. I miss the old grouch complaining about everything. I’d even pour him a drink if he opened his eyes.”

Eagan had a thing for whiskey that was more than a thing. It didn’t appear to be debilitating, but I often wondered if his Danann constitution saved him from alcoholism even as it was a cause. “And I’d join you,” I said.

“Gillen and Briallen are already here. Your friend should be along shortly.”

I kissed her hand. “Thanks, Tibs. Let’s hope this works.”

“Go on up. I’ll join you shortly,” she said.

I climbed the stairs in the great hall, curving around a stuffed Asian elephant until I came level with the John Singer Sargent portrait of Maeve on the opposite wall. I always looked at it. It was impossible not to—larger-than-life, her commanding
stare daring you to look away. If everything went well upstairs, she’d soon have a new thorn in her side, and it would please me to no end that I helped put it there.

In his bedroom off the second-floor corridor, Manus ap Eagan lay against soft white sheets surrounded by brocade pillows in shades of silver and blue. He was on his side, his knees drawn up to his waist. His long wings had gone stiff, curling forward around his body like a shroud, a sign of death among fairies. I had seen something like it before though not in someone as powerful as a Danann.

Essence hovered over the silent figure in hazy layers of gold and white. Briallen and Gillen tended Eagan from opposite sides of the bed. The layers dipped and swirled, flashing and fading along his wings. At brief intervals, his body signature would flare, then dim again as the essence leached away.

“Grey,” Gillen barked. Despite—and often because of—his gruff manner, people deferred to Gillen. He treated everyone the same, though, both as a healer and an acquaintance. Even Maeve had been subjected to his temper and let it pass. Whatever his personality flaws, Gillen cared about what he did and had little patience for other people’s dramas.

I moved forward with reluctance and stopped at the foot of the bed. The last time I was near Eagan, the darkness in my head had fed the darkness in him. It had intensified in both of us, shooting pain into my brain and almost killing Eagan. I worried that my presence might push him beyond the brink.

Gillen peered down at the patient. “Come on this side.”

I did as he ordered. The essence Briallen generated swirled and shifted away. “Now back slowly away.”

I took one step back at a time until I was against the wall. Gillen tilted his head from side to side, essence light scattering through the halo of gray hair around his bald spot. “That’s enough, Briallen.”

She leaned back in her chair. The essence stream from her dissipated like smoke and evaporated as she withdrew. Eagan hadn’t moved.

“How long have you been doing this?” I asked.

With a tired smile, Briallen rolled her head against the crook of the chair to see me better. “We’ve been taking shifts for a while.”

Gillen grunted as he checked a series of stone wards on the bedside table. “He took a turn for the worse when the Guildhouse came down.”

“He was bound to the building,” I said.

Briallen nodded. “A Guildmaster is bound to his place. A Guildhouse rises and falls on the strength of the Guildmaster.”

“I was hoping proximity to the faith stone would have some effect. It didn’t,” Gillen said.

“What about the darkness? Last time I went near him, it made him worse,” I said.

Gillen shifted stones around on the tray next to the bed. Essence dimmed on some, grew brighter on others. “The faith stone is dampening the effect. I didn’t see any change at all this time.”

“Did you know the faith stone was in the Guildhouse?” I asked.

He frowned. “Why would I? Do I look like a mason?”

Briallen looked up at me. “I don’t think he told anyone about it. If he didn’t mention it to me, I doubt he told Nigel or Maeve.”

I pursed my lips. “That sounds plausible. I’m sure Eagan had no personal agenda he didn’t wish to share.”

Briallen glared at the sarcasm in my voice. “Yes, I’m sure one Guildmaster would have told another Guildmaster, unlike, say, a reckless student who oversteps himself.”

“I’m not a student,” I said.

“And I’m not listening to this,” Gillen said. “If you two need to argue about something, do it somewhere else.”

Briallen and I stared at each other. The silence was broken by a knock on the door, and Tibbet entered. “He’s almost here,” she said.

Tibbet and I waited in the dark outside the greenhouse. The grounds lights had been dimmed or extinguished to reduce visibility in case anyone was watching. At the edge of the lawn, shadows darker than their surroundings moved with a glint of light reflecting off chrome helmets. Out of sight, brownie guards roamed the perimeter of the property. Two of them maintained their normal watch in front of the house and another two on the rear patio. Danann security agents patrolled the air, pale traces of essence marking their passage like subtle shooting stars.

“Things seemed a little tense upstairs. Everything all right?” Tibbet asked.

“Yeah. Well, no. Briallen and I are having a disagreement about information-sharing,” I said.

She sighed and leaned against me. “Sometimes all the knowledge in the World can’t change a thing.”

I slipped my hand in hers. “This is going to work, Tibs. I can feel it.”

She shifted on her feet. “They’re here.”

A buzzing sound tickled my ear, the whirr of fairy wings moving at speed. With a gust of wind, two Danann agents appeared above us, holding Shay between them, and lowered him to the ground.

Shay wore black jeans, a long black leather coat, a thick black woolen hat with a rolled brim, and silver goggles. The strap of a messenger bag crossed his chest. With gloved hands, he lifted the goggles and settled them on his forehead. “That…. was…. awesome.”

“I take it there was no trouble?” I asked.

We walked across the lawn toward the house. “They wouldn’t take me over the Hancock Tower, though. That would have been cool.”

Mildly confused, Tibbet glanced at me over Shay’s head. “Secrecy was the point of the trip. There is security all over that area of the city.”

Shay eyeballed me. “She sounds like loads of fun.”

I gave Tibbet an affectionate smile. “I can vouch for her, Shay.”

We entered the house through the side entrance by the library. Shay could not hide his awe, his head swiveling from one side to the other as he took in the expensive furnishings and artwork. “I think you can fit my studio in that fireplace.”

“Old money buys a lot, doesn’t it?” I said, as we climbed the back stairs.

Shay stopped short when we entered the bedroom and he saw the frail body on the bed. He patted the messenger bag. “Except health.”

Gillen waited at the bedside, his face intent as he monitored the wards. “It’s about time. We haven’t got all night.”

Briallen held her hand out. “You must be Shay.”

Shooting me looks of amazement, he took her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Lady Briallen.”

I had traveled among the rich and powerful for so long, I didn’t think about it anymore. It was easy to forget that other people held them in awe. Once you got to know them, though, you realized they were no different than anyone else, luckier
than most, their negative character traits exaggerated as much as their positive. Money let them be that way. It didn’t make them nicer people. It just made them rich. People like Eorla and Briallen were exceptions, but I knew that even they used their privileges to get what they wanted in ways the average person never could.

Shay lifted the strap from his chest and placed the bag on the floor. Ripping open the Velcro, he retrieved the stone ward. In the subdued light, the bloodstone bowl shimmered, its green surface rich with the red spots that gave the stone its name. Without any release in the past weeks, a substantial charge had built up on it.

“Put it on the nightstand, boy,” Gillen said.

For once, Shay seemed nervous. He played tough down in the Weird, but in a mansion surrounded by powerful fey—truly powerful—he was out of his element. He did as asked, then stared down at Eagan. “He looks terrible.”

Gillen scowled, then lifted his eyebrows. “Thanks, kid. Now get out of the way.”

Shay stepped back as Gillen leaned over the bowl. He pulled his reading glasses farther down his nose, tilting his head up and down. His hand lit with essence as he caressed the air above the ward. “Does it require direct contact?”

“I’ve seen it…. used it…. with both touch and proximity,” I said.

“Chants? Commands?” he asked.

I shook my head. “It’s ambient.”

Stone wards worked like electrical components—inductors, capacitors, resistors, and the like. Most wards require some catalyst to work—an interaction with an essence field, a spell, or something as simple as sound. A few worked by what druids called ambience, becoming activated by its surroundings or something in its surroundings. The stone bowl worked with whatever essence was at hand, making it ambient.

Whoever created it had been a master of stonework. Not only did the bowl store essence, it reproduced it in exponential amounts. It shouldn’t have been possible. Even with
essence, energy was a closed system. It didn’t burst into existence out of nothing. The stone had to be tapping into an essence reserve somewhere on a level I didn’t understand, maybe even an aspect of the Wheel of the World. Before Convergence, the Ways opened onto many realms. I didn’t think anyone ever knew how many and what lay there.

Gillen touched the edge of the bowl. Essence light flared, a spark of gold from his hand that swirled into the stone. He grunted and withdrew his hand. “Never seen the like. How do you use it if you can’t move it?” he asked.