Unfallen Dead

CHAPTER 27

The door to the cell room opened with a groan. On the bed, Meryl lounged, reading a book propped against her knees. Without looking up, she held out her index finger and continued reading. Dylan and I waited until she closed the book and dropped it on the bed. “Hey, guys, what’s up?”

“It’s a breakout,” I said.

She swung her feet to the floor. “Can we wait until after dinner? I ordered the lobster.”

Dylan shook his head. “You are an odd person.”

She grinned at him. “That never gets old.”

I showed her the quartz warding stone. “Look familiar?”

She grabbed it. “My amplifier! Where the hell did you find it?”

“Rhonda Powell. She was using it to impersonate you.”

Meryl passed the stone back and forth between her hands. “I can’t believe I bought that bitch lunch.”

“It has your essence all over it. Powell used it to get into the Viten evidence room. That’s why it looked like you opened the door.”

“We have her in custody,” Dylan said.

Meryl scrunched up her face and closed one eye. “Does this mean I can’t have the lobster?”

I took the chair nearest the bed. “The Guild insists on it. Dylan thinks he should wait to release you until Powell’s discredited.”

She pursed her lips, then blinked a few times. “Okay.”

That threw me. “Okay? Meryl, it’s ridiculous.”

Indifferent, she stretched back on the bed. “I’m getting paid while I sit here and read, Grey. It’s even better than jury duty because they feed me and the food is good. Did I mention I ordered lobster for dinner?”

“Odd, odd person,” Dylan muttered.

While Dylan spread the museum photos on the table, I explained the setup at the Ardman townhouse that had led to Powell’s capture.

“I hate to say it, but Keeva does know her shit,” said Meryl.

I laughed. “You should have seen Powell’s face when Keeva crushed the fake soul stone.”

Despite his discomfort with the way Keeva handled Powell, amusement crept onto Dylan’s face. “I did get a little satisfaction at that. But it was more satisfying seeing the look on Ardman’s face when I gave her soul back.”

Meryl looked impressed. “You know how soul stones work?”

He shrugged modestly. “It’s an old interest.”

I pulled a chair to the table. “Anyway, Meryl, since you are being paid as you say, maybe you can earn some of it and get yourself out of here.”

I ran down my theory regarding the Met items. Meryl examined each photograph and played with their layout. She likes to pretend she doesn’t care, but a good puzzle is red meat to her. Finally, she nodded. “I think you’re right about her getting into TirNaNog. If the veil opens, it’s an opportunity she wouldn’t want to miss. But she’s not going for a visit.”

She slid on the bed to lean against the wall. “You’re missing the obvious question: Why kill everyone related to the Viten case if Viten is dead?”

“Revenge,” said Dylan.

Unconvinced, Meryl rocked her head from side to side. “Think it through. She’s had ten years to do that, but she didn’t. Now she has a chance to visit her dead lover. Why risk getting caught by taking revenge on the people who brought him down? The only reason that makes sense is if Viten is alive.”

“It’s Samhain,” I said. “If the veil opens, he can come here.”

“Right. But he would only be able to stay for the night until sunrise. That’s when the veil closes,” she said. “Why not use a soul dagger and accomplish something bigger?”

Dylan arched an eyebrow at her. “The Breton knife is a soul dagger?”

Meryl grinned. “It seeks living essence. That’s why I had it warded the way I did — to keep it from stabbing anyone who walked in the room.”

I looked from Dylan to Meryl. “I’m lost.”

Dylan shook his head in amazement. “It works like a ward stone. It absorbs essence — life essence especially. I didn’t make the connection because the knife is so old. I had no idea those kinds of blades were used that long ago. Powell captured the life essence of her victims.”

Meryl stretched out on her side. “She essence-shocked them, then trapped their life essence in the Breton dagger.”

“I get it. I don’t get why,” I said.

Meryl leaned forward with an avid look. “Winny wasn’t going to visit Viten. She was mounting a rescue. She was going to try to pull him out of TirNaNog. With everyone involved in the case dead, they could live happily ever after.”

Dylan gathered the photos and put them back in the folder. “The living can enter TirNaNog with a silver branch, but the dead can leave if they acquire enough soul essence. All Viten had to do was kill a living person with the dagger. The feedback from the souls in the blade would revitalize his own soul enough to win release from TirNaNog.”

My head bopped between them like a Ping-Pong ball. “Okay, I guess I’m the class dunce. I never heard of any of this.”

Dylan stood by the door. “Some people actually read a book or two after training, Con, and not just when they have a specific need of the moment.”

Meryl cocked her head. “Really? He did things in the need of a moment? No long-term investment?”

Dylan shifted his eyes back and forth between us. “Uh… I don’t think I’m touching that one. I’m going downstairs to talk to Powell again.”

Meryl pulled herself to the edge of the bed. “Downstairs? You have her downstairs? Where downstairs?”

Dylan paused in thought. “This side, fourth cell down.”

Meryl leaped to her feet. “Idiots!”

She knocked Dylan aside, tore open the door, and ran past the startled guard. The guard hesitated, uncertain whether to pursue her.

“We got it,” I said. Meryl was already down the hall and going through the stairwell door. Dylan and I jostled each other chasing after her. “She’s going to beat the hell out of her, you know,” I said.

“Wouldn’t be the first time that happened today, would it?” he asked.

We hit the lower level in time to catch Meryl struggling with the guards outside Powell’s cell. The two Dananns had her arms pinned to her sides. I knew that determined look on her face. She glowed with a rich green light and released a burst of essence. The guards fell, stunned. Meryl kicked open the door and rushed inside. We reached the cell. Hands on her hips, Meryl stared at the empty space within the essence barrier. Powell was gone.

“How did she get out?” Dylan said.

Meryl pointed down. “Trapdoor in the floor.”

Dylan gaped. “How the hell would she know that? How did you?”

Meryl rolled her eyes. “She was chief archivist before me. Winny showed me half the secret doors in this place.”

Dylan released the barrier. Meryl crouched and pressed five floor pavers in sequence. Essence flared around the edges and vanished. A dark hole appeared. She sat down and swung her feet into the opening.

Dylan grabbed her shoulder. “Whoa! Where do you think you’re going?”

The glare Meryl threw at his hand could have shriveled it. He judiciously removed it. “After her,” she said.

“We’ll go. You’re under house detention,” he said.

Meryl glowered at him. I’ve seen that look, too. “I know these tunnels. You don’t. You either come with me, and I let you pretend I’m still in your custody, or get the hell out of my way.”

Dylan stared at her dumbstruck. It’s not every day that a high-ranking Guild department director has it thrown in his face that his rank doesn’t matter one bit to the person in front of him. Of course, most directors don’t work with Meryl either. She waited a good five seconds before she jumped.