Undone Deeds

44

I waited in a room with no windows but two doors, both closed. I wasn’t in the mood to see outside anyway. When Eagan had ferried me across the city, I had seen the extent of the destruction. We had flown along the edge of it, dipping and diving among downtown city streets to elude our pursuers. More than once, we had flown through smoke and fire. The room stank of it because we all stank of it.

Eorla entered with a glamoured Dylan. They placed documents on the table and sorted through several vials of glow bees as reports flowed in from across the city. Dylan looked a little the worse for wear, his uniform torn and covered with dirt and soot.

Keeva arrived next. I hadn’t seen her since she let me escape the safe house. I had doubted her, but she stood with me in the end. I resisted the urge to smile as our eyes met because there was nothing to smile about after her sacrifice. She placed a brown binder envelope on the table. Stone-faced, she unwound the string holding the binder closed and removed a sheaf of documents. She pushed them toward me. “Callin won’t be coming.”

I pulled the papers toward me. “Is he all right?”

“He’s still in AvMem, but he’s weak. We didn’t want to risk his coming here.”

“Risk? What risk?” I asked.

“Look at the documents, Connor,” she said.

The top sheets were index forms, categorizing the rest of the paperwork. Reports were organized like Guild case files, but without any official markings. They referred to people whose names I didn’t recognize. My name jumped off the page on the first case. It was a record almost a decade old, an elf arrested for attempted kidnapping—my attempted kidnapping. I remembered some of the outlined events, but I had no recollection of someone’s trying to kidnap me. The next case was similar, this time an Inverni fairy charged with attempted murder—my attempted murder. Case after case showed more of the same: attempted murder or kidnapping; stalking; conspiracy to commit murder. All of them listed me as the target. The problem was, I had no idea about the history described, as if a parallel series of events occurred that I knew nothing about. They were all filed by the same Guild agent over the ten-year period.

“Who is Shadow?” I asked.

“Callin,” Keeva said.

“He’s Shadow? But he was….” Cold realization swept over me. Callin had been kicked out of the Guild for insubordination and failure to perform over a decade ago. His firing had coincided with my return to Boston and the break in our relationship. I cleared my throat. “What was his assignment?”

Joe popped into the air. He hovered over the table, holding the stone ward bowl like a host trying to decide where to put food on a crowded table. He winked, placed the bowl in front of me, and sat next to it. Essence shimmered in it, a soft swirl of blue and white that swelled in reaction to the people in the room.

Keeva frowned. “You. I was his handler. He was personally responsible for stopping seventeen assassination attempts.”

“Well, I helped on three of those,” Joe said.

“I don’t understand,” I said.

Keeva glanced at the other closed door with annoyed hesitation. “You needed protection. We provided it.”

“Protection from whom?”

Eorla and Rand had stopped talking to listen to us.

“Maeve. Donor. Anyone you ever pissed off, which is pretty much everyone,” she said.

I shook my head. “I am so lost.”

The other door opened, and Eagan entered, the Eagan of my youth, strong, healthy, and fully in command. He took a seat at the table and gestured at the binder. “You are the linchpin in a long-term strategy, Grey. The dwarf Brokke had a vision. He foresaw another war for dominance among the fey. He predicted that certain people might be able to avert the war. You are one of those people. We took it as our duty to keep you alive.”

“We?”

Eagan glanced at Keeva. “Your partners were informed. We’ve had someone guarding you at all times.”

“Why wasn’t I told?”

“Because Brokke said your knowledge would turn events for the worse. It’s what ruined Bergin Vize. He became obsessed with the vision,” Eorla said.

“Vize tried to start the war,” I said.

Eorla nodded. “He thought if he challenged Maeve to act before she was ready, he would undermine her ability to succeed.”

I looked at Eagan. “You stopped me from killing him at the nuke plant. You could have prevented all this bloodshed.”

Eagan shook his head. “I had to stop you. Vize hadn’t made his full turn for the worse then. We didn’t know which one of you to pin our hopes on. One of you could have died. Neither of you was ready.”

“Why not?” I asked.

Eagan nodded his head. “Brokke said success would come from humility. Neither of you had that then.”

And Vize never learned it until too late, I thought. “Who else knows about this? Briallen? Nigel?”

Eagan shook his head sharply. “We could not risk it. Brokke saw what the knowledge did to Vize. He said we had to be more careful than he was with Donor’s people. Briallen’s loyalties are too often obscure. Nigel will always blindly follow Maeve. In fact, I am deeply concerned about his hand in these current events.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that. He’s out of the picture,” I said.

“Dead?” asked Eagan.

“No, but just as good,” I said.

Eagan looked about to question me further, but he let it pass. “Trust in this has been paramount.”

I glanced across the table at Dylan. “He shouldn’t be here.”

“He has access to Maeve’s black ops network. We need him,” Eagan said.

“He’s a loyal Guildsman who lied to Eorla, and now you want me to believe he can be trusted?” I asked.

“He has been instrumental in these last few days. His intelligence gave us the location of your imprisonment,” Eagan said.

“You have to trust me,” Dylan said.

“Why? You didn’t trust me,” I said.

“You know it wasn’t that simple,” he said.

“It never is with you, Dylan,” I said. He had the decency to look away.

“What happened to you? You’ve…. changed,” Eorla asked.

I caressed the bowl. The essence glittered inside it as I trailed my fingers along the surface. “This, actually. Maeve wanted this bowl.”

“Why?” Eagan asked.

I glanced at him. “Why don’t you start with telling me about the faith stone.”

Eagan arched an eyebrow. “What’s to tell? I used it to protect the Guildhouse.”

“You didn’t tell Maeve about it” I said.

“Brokke said not to. With good reason, it seems,” he said.

“An underKing of the Seelie Court acted on the orders of an advisor to the Elven King?” I asked.

Eagan grinned. “I’m not going to revisit a hundred years of decisions, Grey. Brokke made a convincing case. He knew things. He never steered me wrong.”

I looked at Keeva. “What was in it for you?”

She stared down at the table, her face cold and hard. “My choices are none of your business. I’ve sacrificed enough without answering to you.”

“MacGoren had to die. Brokke predicted it,” Eagan said.

She glared at him. “You could have told me sooner.”

Eagan showed no sympathy. “You made the right decision, Keeva. MacGoren would have killed Connor or exposed you and our operation. He had to be removed, and you knew that when you walked into that room. If you had known he had to die, would you have followed through? Ask Eorla about knowledge of the future. Ask her how easy it is to stand aside and watch someone you love die.”

Keeva met his gaze. “I did what needed doing. I would have liked a choice.”

“You had one. You made the hard one, so that we can all live,” Eagan said.

I looked at Eorla. “You knew your husband would be killed?”

She nodded. “Brokke said a druid would kill him, and a druid did. I told Alvud the vision. It made him reckless. He didn’t suspect the druid would be glamoured as a troll. And, yes, Manus, as you imply, it was hard knowing what was to come.”

“What does she want with the bowl?” Eagan asked.

“It’s part of a package. She said she had the stone, the sword, and the spear, and only needed the bowl,” I said.

“I no longer sense any of those things about you,” Eagan said.

“I can call them to me. What do they mean in all this?” I said.

“Brokke said to tell you: The Ways seal and unseal. A needle binds as it pierces.” Eorla said.

“He told me to tell you: The bones of the earth are steadfast and eternal,” Eagan said.

“He told me to tell you: Tell me what to do,” said Dylan.

Joe laughed. “No one owns the cow.”

Everyone looked down at him. Joe turned his head this way and that, annoyed and embarrassed at the same time. “What? Brokke said it, not me.”

Their words shifted in my mind. I recognized them, remembered them from somewhere else, somewhere stark and white and dangerous. And beautiful beyond words. I never saw Brokke there, but he heard the same things I did. Something beyond powerful had reached out and touched us both. More doors opened in my mind—memories of the past, decisions made and efforts failed. Convergence wasn’t an event. It was a process, one that had been leading to this moment for over a century.

I bit back a laugh and a sob. “I know what I have to do.”