Uncertain Allies

30

The blue light of the Dead flickered as the Hunt continued the fight on the next block. Murdock stared after the rider. “Was that a friend?”

“If I’m not mistaken, we’ve been invited to follow the King of the Dead.”

“What, like the devil?” Murdock asked.

I twisted my lips in amusement. “The King’s more of an administrator and occasional hunter, but I don’t think that means he’s the nicest guy around, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“And we want to go meet him because . . . ?” Murdock asked.

I looked back up the street. Uno guarded the sidewalk, his massive bulk obscuring the scene in the intersection. “Given the options at the moment, I say the King of the Dead is the least of our problems. Don’t drop your body shield, though.”

“Great,” he muttered.

Meryl slipped her hand in mine. “You know, usually when we go out, all hell breaks loose, but I don’t think it’s ever been this literal.”

The sounds of the fighting diminished as we walked deeper into the Tangle. Faint blue light hazed the air, the residual trail of the dream mare and the rider. The surrounding walls glowed pale white. The street turned into a dead end.

“Did we miss a turn, or is it an illusion?” Murdock asked.

I stepped up to the end wall. “The rider’s essence ends here. It’s a glamour.” I placed my left hand against the wall and pushed. The concrete bent under the pressure, and my hand slipped through.

“Do I hold my breath or what?” Murdock asked.

“Geez, we were invited, remember?” Meryl said. Without hesitation, she walked through the wall.

“I didn’t get the invitation,” Murdock said.

“Door glamours aren’t that thick. Hang on to my arm and step through without stopping. You’ll be fine,” I said.

He gripped my arm by the triceps, leaving his gun hand free. “I’m sure Gerda Alfheim was told the exact same thing right before the wall ate her,” he said.

The glamour tingled cool over my body as we slid through the illusion to join Meryl. On the other side, light and sound startled me. Murdock was even more surprised than I was. We hadn’t heard anything from the street.

A makeshift market sprawled through a cavernous space. Essence-powered lanterns hanging from scaffolding and fire escapes illuminated a winding path through canvased stalls and tents. Herbs and essence spiced the air, and unseen musicians weaved spelled tunes meant to encourage relaxation and camaraderie. The crowd spanned the various fey folk races, with a notable number of dwarves and minor clan elves. A dwarf paused in front of us and bowed with formal courtesy. “My apologies the Hunt gave you trouble. We did not know you were favored. I have been asked to escort you.”

Without waiting for a reply, he led us through the tents. The main aisle followed an abandoned trolley track bed. Vendors eyed us, but no one made an attempt to solicit. “People seem intent on the door we came in,” Murdock said.

“I think they’re worried about who’s coming through next,” I said.

“Or isn’t,” he said.

His comment made me remember the screams up the street. “We don’t know what happened back there.”

“Something tells me we won’t either,” he said.

At the end of the vendor stalls, stone constructions jutted from the walls and rose into shadow. From glimpses through open doors, some had the look of barracks about them, compact bedding in rows and bunks. Other build-outs were more private, even elaborate. True to the abilities of dwarves, not a speck of mortar was visible in the joinings of the structures. At the back end, the outcroppings were decorated with carvings of wildlife and trees.

Another glamour blocked the way, radiating a green essence of complex alarm spells and resistance shielding. The dwarf walked through it, his presence triggering another spell that opened the wall as if someone had pulled aside a curtain. Beyond was an enclosed room, a long, narrow space like an audience chamber, lit with torches. A single chair faced us from the far end. The dwarf knocked on a door behind the chair, then stepped aside and waited.

The rider emerged, wearing the long maroon cape I had seen earlier. Back in the street, I assumed I couldn’t see his face because of the poor lighting, but now it was obvious that a glamour masked the front of the helm. In any other context, stag antlers and burning red eyes would have generated giggles, but in the shadowed room, they looked damned eerie. A formidable body shield guarded that side of the room.

Drop your shields, the rider sent.

“Well, well, well,” Meryl said. Amused, she dropped her shield.

“No,” said Murdock.

His answer surprised the dwarf, but the rider made no move. We regarded each other until the rider’s shield wavered and collapsed. Since you do not have your weapon pointed at me this time, I suppose I shall take that as courtesy, Detective.

The rider reached up and removed the helm. Two long, thick braids of red hair tumbled from within as the glamour deactivated. The rider threw back one side of the cape, revealing a formfitting red leathered armor. Ceridwen sat in the chair and propped the helm on the arm. “My apologies for what happened to you a few days ago, Grey. The Hunt should have recognized my ring.”

In life, Ceridwen had been a powerful member of the Seelie Court. As an underQueen, she helped decide on who would be High Queen or could campaign for it herself. Maeve sent her to investigate me and Meryl about our role in a different catastrophe. That was the cover story. It turned out she was tracking rumors that Bergin Vize was about to launch an attack on Maeve. The rumors were true, and Ceridwen ended up Dead.

After she died, she surprised me by showing up at my door. She gave me a ring, in token of a promise we made to each other to take Maeve down. “I wasn’t wearing it. I didn’t want to invite questions.”

Annoyed, she shifted in her seat. “That ring represents a great promise, Grey. I trust it has not been tossed in some forgotten drawer.”

“In this neighborhood? Are you kidding? I don’t even leave lottery tickets at my place.” I unsnapped the boot sheath that held my old dagger and slipped the ring off the leather strap. I held it up. “It’s safe.”

Meryl leaned in. “She gave you a ring? You didn’t tell me she gave you a ring.”

I nudged her with my elbow. “Behave.”

Ceridwen rose with her hand out. I dropped the ring onto her palm. Melancholy flitted across her features as she touched it. It was a fine band of gold set with a large carnelian. She reached for my left hand and slipped the ring on my pinkie finger. “This will keep you safe from the Hunt. They will sense it and know you for a friend. You can use it to seek my audience at any time. It cannot be removed without my blessing.”

I tugged at the ring. It wouldn’t budge. “I can’t wear this, Ceridwen. Maeve is already threatening to arrest me for your murder. I don’t need her adding robbing the Dead to the charges.”

Ceridwen returned to her chair. “The ring remains. It is glamoured from sight. Someone might sense it, but no one will see it.”

Meryl crossed her arms and tapped her foot. “Now you’re wearing her ring.”

I glowered. “Knock it off.”

She huffed, pretending to be annoyed. “Fine.”

“What’s this all about, Ceridwen?” I asked.

She leaned back. “I’m building an army, Grey.”

“An army,” I said.

“A reckoning is coming, Grey. Maeve is losing the support of the full Seelie Court. I will have it known how she betrayed me,” she said.

“In the meantime, you’re kidnapping people,” said Murdock.

Ceridwen glanced at him with unconcealed disdain. Murdock had pulled his gun on her once. First impressions were lasting. “No one is here against his will, Detective. We give everyone a choice. Safety with me or a pawn in Eorla’s war with the Elven King.”

“Sounds more like they’re pawns either way,” said Murdock.

“My people will always have a choice. The elves do not understand that concept,” she said.

“You’ve never met Eorla Elvendottir,” I said.

“You said you would stand by me, macGrey,” she said.

“I did. And I will. This isn’t the time.”

“I disagree. Eorla’s people are hunting us down. Her people have harassed mine throughout the neighborhood.” She tilted her head in consideration.

“Those are Donor’s people. He’s trying to create confusion down here,” I said.

Ceridwen narrowed her eyes. “Why would Donor care? His problem is Maeve.”

“Then why was Gerda Alfheim embedded in one of your glamoured walls? She works for Donor, not Eorla or Maeve,” I said.

The dwarf made a noise that drew my attention. He tried to cover the reaction by feigning disinterest. “Who is this, by the way?” I asked.

“This is my security chief, Nar Veinseeker,” Ceridwen said.

Murdock and I exchanged glances. “He’s who Donor’s been after, Ceridwen,” I said.

Ceridwen cocked her head at Nar. “Explain.”

Nar remained still for a long moment. “I had no knowledge of this, m’lady. My intent has been to secure our facilities as requested.”

“It sounds like your security chief has been hiding information from you, Ceridwen. Someone has been looking for dwarves that were here a century ago. Anyone with contacts in the Weird knows about it. I have it on good authority that it’s Nar they’ve been looking for,” I said.

“A curious claim, Nar, don’t you think?” Ceridwen asked.

Nar bowed. “M’lady, I do not know this gentleman, but I will not be spoken ill of. Our facilities were being attacked, and I took appropriate measures to protect us as you requested.”

“You weren’t being attacked, Ceridwen—he was. He’s been using your Hunt to protect himself if Gerda caught up with him,” I said.

Ceridwen didn’t take her attention off Nar. “What did she want with him?”

“Her last victim said she was looking for a stone ward that he knows about,” I said.

We both have held the truth spear, macGrey. I sense you are not telling me everything, she sent. Ceridwen had brought the spear to Boston, not realizing what it was. Access to it appeared in our minds at the same time, and we struggled over control of it. In the end, it came to me, but not before Vize used it to kill her. And now he had it again. I shrugged and glanced at Nar. I wasn’t going to share anything with a dwarf I didn’t know.

Nar drew a round polished stone out of his pocket and tossed it to me. “That is what she wanted. Stone wards are keyed to our glamour defenses.”

“These alleys and tunnels are our sanctuary. If anyone were to gain access uninvited, we would be at their mercy,” Ceridwen said.

I rolled the stone in my palm, feeling the essence cycling within it. It matched the ones Janey Likesmith had found on the dead dwarves at the morgue. I handed it to Murdock. “It’s like a pass key through the essence barriers and works with your body signature. It resonates with the same essence as the shield and lets you through if you have it on you.”

“Why not change the lock?” Murdock asked.

Nar held his hand out. “We do, but it takes time to modify all the barriers.”

Murdock tossed the stone back to Nar. “We found one of these on Gerda Alfheim. Kinda curious it didn’t work for her. Maybe you found time to modify one or two?”

“We only defend ourselves,” said Nar.

“This is all beside the point. Nar knows that’s not the stone she wanted,” I said.

“What stone do you believe she sought, Grey?” Ceridwen asked.

“Something called a faith stone. Bergin Vize wants to know where it is, too. That’s who your people are fighting back there, Ceridwen.”

She placed the helm on the floor and stood, her wings sparking angry shades of red and orange. “Vize is here?”

“I talked to him myself not an hour ago. Your people interrupted the conversation. He has the spear, again,” I said.

Then it seems our interests are aligned once again, Grey. I will have my revenge against the man who murdered me, she sent.

Nar moved closer to her chair. “He is playing with you, m’lady, to discredit me. He knows how you feel about this man.”

“Gerda may have been your enemy, Nar, but Vize is the one you need to worry about,” I said.

“The Guild is getting curious, too, Ceridwen. Your security guy is bringing some heavy hitters down on you,” said Meryl.

“I will not allow the Guild in my domain,” Ceridwen said.

“This isn’t your domain. It’s a city neighborhood,” Murdock said.

“Ryan macGoren is not to be trusted. We will investigate this matter and proceed appropriately,” she said.

Murdock shook his head. “After what happened in the Weird, the mayor is not going to allow fey vigilantes to run around outside the law.”

“I will deal with the Guild and the Elven King on my own terms, not anyone else’s, fey or human,” she said.

“I’m still reporting it,” he said.

“Then perhaps you should make yourself comfortable until I decide the best course,” she said.

Murdock loosened his jacket. “Is that a threat?”

I held my hands up for calm. “Let’s bring it down a notch. We’re all on the same side here.”

“Speak for yourself,” Murdock said.

I ignored him. “Ceridwen, don’t do anything foolish. You’re already planning on taking on the Guild. Talk to Eorla. I can vouch for some of her people, and she’s operating under color of law at the moment. Her support will be a lot more useful to you than that of someone who has a private agenda.”

“My people come to me because they do not trust her, Grey,” asked Ceridwen.

“Donor has been creating that distrust. There’s a dwarf named Brokke who can vouch for it. Your people might trust him,” I said.

“I know who he is. He’s a Consortium advisor, not one of Eorla’s people,” Ceridwen said.

“Eorla trusts him.”

Nar leaned forward. “If I may, m’lady? I do not believe I am the one here with a private agenda.”

Ceridwen glared down at him. “I will speak with Brokke and decide for myself, Nar. If Bergin Vize is indeed behind the attacks on my people, there will be hell to pay.”