Undone Deeds

12

After Shay left, I had the painting brought up to Ceridwen’s rooms. I didn’t know what to make of it, but leaving it around unattended was not an option. Ceridwen was subdued as she stared at the whirling essence but didn’t say why. She agreed to put dampening wards on the canvas so that whatever scrying was operating wouldn’t split my head open with pain.

Afterward, I decided to pretend my life was normal. The Tangle was living in a stew of essence. People who remembered claimed the atmosphere reminded them of Faerie, but with urban buildings and no positive relief. After weeks in the neighborhood, I understood what they meant. Essence saturated everything in the World but intensified in the Tangle. Part of that was the high concentration of fey, but it also was what those fey did.

Essence in the Tangle was activated in all its forms—spells, wards, incantations, shields, glamours, barriers. To my mind, the difference between the Tangle and Faerie was in kind. The Tangle was about warped uses of defense and offense, of catering to baser impulses and exploiting the weak or unsuspecting. I didn’t doubt that Faerie had all those things, but they wouldn’t define it so narrowly. It had been a place where people lived, good people and bad, but not a place that was inherently exhausting. Wearing a body shield all day in the Tangle was not unusual. Wearing one in Faerie to plow a field was probably unnecessary.

As a here-born, someone who had never lived in Faerie, I had the added difference of being attuned to the modern world. I had lived in places where essence was ambient, not a regular tool for the locals. I had friends who were not fey, who didn’t resonate with body signatures after standing in the sun too long. I noticed the difference between life in the city and life in the Weird. I liked the relief of the city sometimes.

I went for a nice long run in a stocking cap and sunglasses in the cool evening air, unnoticed and unrecognized. For a half hour, I was a guy in running shoes, not a suspected murderer. I did my favorite route down the waterside of the Weird, hopping over gaps between docks and balancing up and down old planking. I left the Weird and made for the loop down at Castle Island, feeling the harbor wind on my face.

During the day, Castle Island was a favorite public park for nearby Southie. It was devoid of people at night, not a safe place for anyone. It wasn’t crime-ridden, per se, but sometimes an opportunistic mugger took advantage of the abandonment.

I slowed as I approached the parking lot. The land sloped up to an old fort from the 1800s, when the park was an actual island not connected to the mainland by fill.

A thin haze floated over the fort like a mist, not unusual since it was on the harbor, but the mist seemed only above the fort. My sensing ability picked up ambient essence stronger than usual, too.

Castle Island was where things first fell apart last year, where Shay and Keeva had almost died, and Murdock’s family history started to crack open. A madman under Vize’s control had almost destroyed a dimensional barrier and released a race of beings called Fomorians, or what might politely be called monsters. The impact of those events lingered—much as nasty things lingered in the Weird and the Tangle—and took a long time to fade.

I jogged in place, searching the air. Other than the mist, nothing seemed wrong. I shrugged off the feeling as paranoia. A bunch of fairies could have been doing aerials up there before I arrived. They liked playing around in the conflicting air currents.

I circled around the parking lot and back up the access road. Before turning for the Weird, I made a detour into the edge of Southie. The Tangle wasn’t known for its coffee shops, and a place around the corner made some excellent mud.

I came around the corner and almost barreled into Murdock and Janey Likesmith. Janey held a coffee-to-go cup away from her, checking to see if any had spilled on her while Murdock stared at the half of scone on the sidewalk that I had knocked out of his hand. “Can I expense that?” I asked.

“Please tell me you’re not being chased by a marauding horde of something,” Murdock said.

I stretched my hamstrings against the side of the building. “Nah. Went for a run. What’s up? You guys get a call over here?”

Awkward looks flashed between them, then Janey sipped her coffee. Murdock picked up the fallen scone and tossed it in a bin. “No. We…. uh…. met for coffee.”

I pulled my foot up behind me to finish the stretch. “Oh, are you going over the elf case?”

Janey started laughing and threw Murdock a wide-eyed expression. “Yeah, that’s it. Tell him about the case, Leo.”

Murdock blushed, and I finally got it. Janey and Murdock, together, having a coffee in a part of the neighborhood neither of them lived. Murdock was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Janey was wearing a long casual dress with a sweater over her shoulders. In other words, neither of them was working, and I was an idiot for not seeing it. “Oh…. um…. oh,” I said.

Murdock focused on wiping crumbs off his hands. “Yeah, um, Janey says there’s something up with that arrow.”

“Did you get a signature off it?” I asked. I cringed at the overly polite tone in my voice, like I had just met them.

Janey kept the wide smile on her face. “Several actually, mostly residual, but the odd part was that it wasn’t elf-shot. The charge sent through the arrow had some kind of solitary essence on it. Isn’t that right, Leo?”

Murdock smiled uncomfortably. “Yep. That’s what the report said.”

“The one I wrote. Right? Was there something about coffee in there?” asked Jane, then laughed.

“I don’t remember,” he mumbled.

“Did you get that ID I sent?” I asked.

Janey tilted her head, waiting for Murdock to respond. He slipped his hands in his pockets. “It’s unofficial, but I was able to confirm that Alfren was working for the Guild. Mostly, he passed information about the Tangle and movements of Eorla’s people.”

“Has the Guild taken over the case?” I asked.

He shook his head. “He’s still in the morgue. No one wants him.”

“That sounds like political dodgeball. I guess we wait and see who picks him up. That’ll tell us who has more to hide,” I said. I wanted to bite back my words, but they were out.

Janey could not keep the smile off her face. She was loving Murdock’s discomfort. “Maybe everyone should go out for coffee.”

Clearly defeated, Murdock eyed her with amusement. “Coffee is good for a lot of things.”

I decided to let them off the hook. “Speaking of which, I could use a cup. You guys want anything?”

“No, thanks. I’m meeting someone for dinner,” Janey said.

“Yeah, me, too,” Murdock said.

I rubbed my hands together. “Okay, then. I guess I’ll check in with you later. Let me know if something comes up.”

Janey lost it. She backed away, laughing. Murdock glared at me in a way that told me I would pay for that. Amused, I watched them walk away. When they reached the corner, Murdock held Janey’s arm above the elbow as they crossed the street.

I sighed and went into the coffee shop. It never crossed my mind that they had any interest in each other. I guessed I wasn’t good about predicting the future.