Undone Deeds

22

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.

“I touched it, and the essence flowed into me. With Meryl, it seemed to jump into her on its own,” I said.

Annoyed, Briallen crossed her arms. “Why didn’t you tell us that the bowl caused the mysterious essence burst you said revived her?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I didn’t feel like explaining the properties of a mysterious essence instrument to you,” I said.

I couldn’t help the dig. I accepted that Briallen treated me like her student long after I had left her charge. I couldn’t help wanting to remind her I didn’t answer to her anymore and that sometimes she overstepped as much as I did. She didn’t tell me about the sword. I didn’t tell her about the bowl. It was quid pro quo even if I didn’t intend it to be. My words had the effect I intended. Upset, Briallen straightened her back but didn’t say anything.

Gillen glanced at Shay. “What do you feel when you touch it?”

“It feels kinda odd, warm and soft instead of hard and cold,” he said.

“No burns or shocks, young lady?” Gillen asked.

“No. I’m a guy, by the way,” Shay said.

Gillen grunted. He cleared his throat and pushed at the bowl. It didn’t move. Since the bowl could be moved only by a virgin, that told me more about Gillen than I needed to know.

“What are you thinking?” I asked him.

He tilted his head up and down, still examining the bowl. “I’m gassy. I shouldn’t have had the broccoli with dinner. Come here and stick your hand in it.”

Despite being made a fool of on other occasions when he told me to do things, I always did as Gillen asked. A prickling sensation ran up my arm, and the stone in my head beat a warm pulse. A veil lifted inside me, connections leaped together and burst with energy. My hand flared with essence, power shooting down into the bowl, and I felt that I could do anything with a simple thought. I had not felt that sensation for over three years. I stumbled back with a gasp and stared at Gillen.

“What happened?” he asked.

“My abilities. It felt like my abilities came back,” I said. The sensation faded as quickly as it had risen, the stone in my head and the darkness resuming the tired dance that blocked my abilities.

Gillen tapped the edge of the stone. “Handy little gizmo. Are you ready, Briallen?” She joined him by the bed and placed her hand on the bowl. “Begin,” Gillen said.

Briallen’s body shield swirled around her, and the bowl reacted with a spark of clear white essence in the depression. With measured bursts, Briallen fired essence at the stone. It absorbed each infusion, glowing whiter and brighter. Static arcs jumped from one edge to the other, from inside the bowl to Briallen’s hand. She closed her eyes in concentration, pulling more essence into her and directing it out again.

Gillen took Eagan’s hand with a gentleness that belied his usual nature, stretched the Guildmaster’s arm toward the bowl. As the skeletal hand neared the ward, essence sparked between them, and Eagan’s fingers twitched. Gillen lowered the hand onto the stone.

White fog swirled around the hand. Dark spots formed on the skin, and the essence gathered over them, tiny funnels of light pouring into the spots. Briallen maintained her stream, adding more essence from her fingers with each pulse.

A bolt of essence shot into the air, froze, then bent back over the bed. It splintered and plunged into Eagan’s body. Pain lanced through my head, like a fist hitting my brain. Eagan convulsed, his brittle wings unfurling with a sharp snap as he rolled onto his back. He arched when another surge hit, his mouth straining open in pain. Beside him, Briallen stood transfixed, her hand locked onto the bowl.

More pressure built inside my head. I moved back, the essence pounding against my brain, the yearning of the darkness inescapable. It shifted inside my mind, the familiar burning sensation of its unquenchable thirst. The faith stone burned, too, cold and heat oscillating between it and the darkness, fighting for dominance. I closed my eyes against the infinite loop of pain.

Essence coursed into Eagan, splintering and splintering again. Burning white lines fed into the pinholes of darkness that speckled his body signature. The essence overwhelmed the darkness, stitching together his body essence with flashes of light.

With a last burst, the essence from the stone bowl faded. Spots danced in front of my eyes. I fell back against the door. Briallen swayed as Gillen helped her to the armchair. She slumped on the seat, worn and exhausted, her own body signature a smoldering ember of its normal brilliance.

Tibbet came to my side and lifted my head by the chin. “Are you okay?”

I took her hand and stood. “Yeah. Stunned a little.”

Eagan lay on his back, his wings spread across the sheets. They rippled with the air currents, essence dancing among the veining. The flesh on his face had filled out. He didn’t look well, but he didn’t look dead anymore. I scanned him with my sensing ability. “He’s regenerating on his own,” I said.

Gillen touched the wards on the nightstand. “I’m not sensing any of the darkness.”

“Me either,” I said.

Gillen turned with a pensive look. “I don’t know how that thing works, but if he’s cured, there’s hope for you yet.”

Excitement surged through me. To be free of the darkness was unfathomable, to be whole again, to be cured. “Gillen, can we….”

He held up his hand. “One step at a time, Grey. Eagan didn’t have nearly the amount of darkness in him as you do, and it’s drained Briallen to her core.”

“I’m fine,” she said.

“Spent is what you are,” he said. “You need to sleep. We all do. Tibbet, please call the car. I’m taking Briallen home. I’ll be back by daylight.”