Unfallen Dead

CHAPTER 5

The twenty-third floor of the Guildhouse existed in two different towers connected by a sky bridge. One tower held meeting rooms and the main elevator shaft, the other a few private temporary offices with a separate elevator for executives to whisk in and out. When the main elevator opened on the public side, Guild security agents blocked my way. With a queen of Faerie in town, they went for the full security package-Danann fairies in black uniform, chrome helmets, and take-no-crap attitude. I didn’t pretend to be oblivious to the process. I flashed my badge and the subpoena without waiting to be asked.

An unusual array of the fey worked the hallway outside the conference rooms. Danann fairies and the lesser clans clustered in groups well away from elves and dwarves. True to their name, solitary fey kept to themselves. Neither the Celts nor the Teuts controlled or cared about them, the outcasts of the fey world. Fey on all sides sported visible injuries from the aborted battle at Forest Hills a few weeks earlier. Every time an elevator opened, all eyes shifted to the newest arrival, seeking a potential ally or noting a potential foe.

I had no time to suss out how the proceedings were going. Within minutes of my arrival, a brownie security guard escorted me to a table outside the door of the hearing room. “Weapons must be left here,” he said.

Without my abilities, physical weapons were my only defense. I understood the protocol. Security was security. I pulled a dagger from each boot and placed them on the table. One was a simple steel throwing knife I had owned for years. The other was a druidic blade, laced with charms and spells, that Briallen gave me last spring. “I suggest no one touches these,” I said.

The brownie wasn’t particularly impressed with the suggestion. Everybody probably told him the same thing. He announced my name and escorted me into the hearing room.

A hearing at the Fey Guild didn’t resemble a U.S. court-room proceeding. The room typically had seats in the back for spectators, a lone chair in the middle for whoever was being questioned, and a raised dais in the front for hearing officials. If the person questioned had an advocate, the advocate stood. Fey folk seeking help subjected themselves to the will and word of High Queen Maeve at Tara. Maeve’s law could be cold and nasty. Sometimes that was good. When it wasn’t, it wasn’t good at all.

The first clue that my hearing wasn’t ordinary was the absence of spectators. The only people present sat on the dais and were among the most-high-powered fey in Boston. Since I wasn’t being charged with anything as far as I knew, no advocates were present. I hadn’t requested one, figuring it would look like I had nothing to worry about. For now.

Ceridwen was, in a word, a babe. Most people found Danann fairies irresistibly attractive. Part of that was glamour, spell-masking that enhanced their best features. Part of that was their Power. The Dananns considered themselves the elite of the Celtic fairies. Without a doubt, they ruled with that attitude. They were a damned attractive bunch with the firepower to cinch it, and Ceridwen was no exception.

She sat tall in the center of the platform, her diaphanous wings undulating on currents of ambient essence, points of light flickering gold and silver in the faint veining. Auburn hair burnished with gold highlights fell in waves down her back. Her eyes glowed amber with an intensity and depth that would humble anyone. Those eyes sent a shiver of awe through me. In a many-ringed hand, she held an ornate spear, intricately carved applewood worn white with age, tipped with a sharply honed claw. A silver filigree depicting leaves and apples wrapped the whole of it. On the shaft near Ceridwen’s hand, ogham runes glowed and formed the words Way Seeker.

On her right sat Ryan macGoren, enjoying his status on the Guild board. We had had run-ins in the past that left me with a less-than-ideal opinion of him. Even other Dananns considered him ambitious, including Guildmaster Manus ap Eagan, who sat on the other side of Ceridwen. Manus looked in rough shape. He had contracted some kind of wasting disease that baffled the best healers known to the fey. Manus’s suspicions of Ryan had drawn me into the investigation that had exposed the coup plot at Forest Hills. Accident, to be sure, but a damned good one. Given that he was suffering from accusations of failure, I had no idea if Manus blamed me or not.

To the left of the Dananns, Nigel Martin and Briallen studiously ignored each other. I suppressed a smile. Those that follow the druidic path by their nature were prone to debate. Briallen and Nigel epitomized those debates. They had been sticking me in the middle of their arguments as long as I could remember. I considered myself lucky to have had them as mentors, but I would be hard put to explain which of them influenced me more.

On the right of the Dananns sat Eorla Kruge, the new elven director. Eorla made eye contact with me and nodded slightly before returning her attention to the papers in her hand. I admired Eorla’s intentions but doubted she believed she’d have much success at the Guild. It was and remained Maeve’s creature, and no elf ever truly influenced the course of Guild policies in their favor.

Last, on the end of the table next to Eorla, was Melusina Blanc, the solitary fey director. Melusina had a strange look, skin unnaturally pale with shades of gray, hair a tangle of silver tinted almost blue, and eyes so light the irises appeared white. Where Ceridwen’s gaze made one look away from amazement, Melusina’s did from discomfort.

If elves had little pull on the board, the solitaries had even less. At best, Melusina was a token nod to the existence of solitaries. The irony was that since neither the Seelie Court nor the Teutonic Consortium thought of solitaries as allies, Melusina’s vote ended up being particularly powerful in close calls. No fool, she used it to gain help and privileges so often denied to her kind.

As usual, the dwarven director was absent. For complicated political reasons I never understood, they refused to attend meetings but did not give up their rights and titles.

Ceridwen stamped the base of the spear on the floor. “We are Ceridwen, Queen. We speak for Her Majesty, High Queen Maeve at Tara. Connor macGrey, Druid, you are hereby sworn to speak truth in matters addressed here. You may sit.”

I took the forlorn chair facing their table. “Just Grey. I don’t use the patronymic.”

She gave no indication that she heard. “We have read your statement of the events of Forest Hills. Can you elaborate on what is not in the report?”

I tried to look innocent so I wouldn’t appear uncooperative. Get in and get out was a good hearing strategy. “Could you be more specific?”

Ceridwen lowered her eyelids and softened her face with a thin smile. “We are Ceridwen, Queen.”

I paused in confusion, then realized the subtle emphasis on her title. “My apologies. I’m not used to using royal protocol. Could you be more specific, Your Highness?”

Ceridwen’s smile flexed slightly higher. “No. Proceed.”

Cute. Ceridwen was on a fishing expedition. I decided to keep to the details of my original statement. “The blood of a living tree spirit called a drys was used to make a drug. The drug activated a control spell that would bind all essence-all of it, everywhere-to one person. That amount of essence couldn’t be contained, and the spell fed on everything around it and grew. I somehow short-circuited it. I have memory loss from the event and do not know how I did it.”

Ceridwen remained for a long moment with her head tilted to the side. “Tell us again of this tree spirit, the drys.”

I shrugged. “There’s little to tell, ma’am. Her name was Hala. She was the physical incarnation of the oak.”

Ceridwen leaned forward. “And how do you know this?”

My eyes shifted momentarily to Briallen and Nigel. “I am a druid, ma’am. Sensing essence is one of the abilities the Wheel of the World grants us.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Are we to assume that you believe this tree spirit can govern the use of essence?”

I saw where she was going. Ceridwen-and probably Maeve and the rest of the Dananns at Seelie Court-were spooked that druids could use a drys to gain controlling power over essence. If druids did, they could trump the power of the Seelie Court and risk the Danann’s perceived superior status. “No, ma’am. I do not believe that. In fact, before she died, the drys Hala was horrified by what had happened. It was the spell that affected essence, not the drys. The drys’s blood was merely the catalyst of the spell.”

She nodded. “Explain.”

I felt a flicker of essence from Briallen, as though she momentarily had activated her body shield. Then I realized what was annoying Meryl. Dananns were fey of the air. Ceridwen was looking for druid lore, which focused on organic matter. Even as a powerful Danann, she wouldn’t understand the use of tree essence personified by the drys. I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. The hearing was an excuse for another political fencing game. I answered her honestly. “I cannot, ma’am. I only felt the results of the spell, not how it was created.”

Twin spots of rose appeared on her cheeks. “I see. Then can you tell us why the effects of the spell remain?”

I shook my head. “No, ma’am. The remnants of the spell haven’t dissipated yet. Others more knowledgeable than I might understand that.”

Ceridwen stood abruptly, her eyebrows drawing together. “Druid macGrey, come before us.”

I glanced at Briallen, but she did not meet my eyes. I did what Ceridwen asked. She positioned the spear between us. “This is the spear Way Seeker, the Finder of Truth. Place your hand upon the spear and answer us.”

I stared into Ceridwen’s fathomless golden eyes. I could refuse. Since I was born in the States and had never sworn fealty to Maeve, I was not a subject of the Seelie Court. I wasn’t even a Guild agent anymore, which would have obligated me to follow her request. I brought a slow hand up to the spear. I didn’t think I had anything to lose.

My hand closed around the spear. The silver plating and heartwood beneath pulsed cold. When I wrapped my fingers around it above Ceridwen’s hand, more ogham runes flared into view below the first set. Way Maker. Another moment later, yet a third set of runes appeared. Way Keeper.

A subtle touch in my mind warned me I was about to receive a sending. From experience, I recognized Nigel Martin’s deft touch. I see the runes. Say nothing of them. I had trained with Nigel a long time. No one in the room would know by looking at me that he had spoken in my mind.

Ceridwen cocked her head first to one side, then the other. She might not know Nigel had spoken to me, but she had enough ability to know something had passed through the air. “There is no private communication in our presence.” She didn’t take her gaze off me. “Tell us again, Druid macGrey. What do you know of the taint that infects the essence of this place?”

The spear glowed with a harsh golden light as essence shot up my arm. Sensing the surge, the dark mass in my head convulsed and deflected it. The essence shot back down my arm, and the spear flared. With a concussive force, the spear jolted itself out of Ceridwen’s hand and threw her back in her chair. Her eyes blazed with light as she leaped to her feet. “You dare!”

Baffled, I held the spear between us. “I don’t know what…” I didn’t get to finish. Ceridwen raised a clenched fist that glowed with white power. She brought her arm back to cast the essence at me. Briallen and Nigel jumped to their feet. With a shout, Briallen threw a protection barrier between us while Nigel held his own hand out with essence forming in it.

“This man’s essence is damaged, Your Highness. I do not believe he intended anything,” Nigel said.

Anger suffused Ceridwen’s face. “Leave us. All of you but macGrey.”

The other directors filed out with a mixture of sentiments on their faces. Eorla Kruge looked curious, while amusement spread on Melusina’s face. Ryan macGoren had paled. Manus hesitated. As Guildmaster, I would guess he could insist on staying, but he bowed to Ceridwen instead. Nigel and Ceridwen locked gazes. She let the power ebb out of her hand. Only then did he do the same and leave.

Briallen moved closer to me. “Are you all right?” I nodded. She gave my arm a squeeze and walked to the door.

“Remove this protection spell,” Ceridwen said to her.

Briallen lifted her chin. Yellow light danced in her eyes. “Remember to whom you speak, under Queen. You have no authority over me, Ceridwen.” With an angry flick of her hand, the protection barrier rolled over and surrounded me completely rather than dissipating. Briallen slammed the door behind her.

Ceridwen stood in a cloud of essence, a barely contained flame. She held her hand out and said, “Ithbar.” The spear jerked out of my hand and back to hers. “We are bonded to this spear. How did you take it from us?”

I held my hands out to either side. “I don’t know.”

She placed the butt of the spear on the floor between us. “Grasp the spear and answer us.”

The angry demand rubbed me the wrong way. “I’m telling you the truth. I don’t need to be compelled.”

She took a step forward. “We are not asking, druid.”

“I noticed. The answer is still ‘no.’ ”

She took another step, and Briallen’s protection barrier glistened between us. My body shields kicked in as essence built up in Ceridwen’s eyes. Without Briallen in the room, I didn’t know if the protection spell would hold up against whatever Ceridwen was about to do. I decided not to find out. I held my hand up and took a gamble. “Ithbar.”

Ceridwen’s jaw dropped as the spear wrenched out of her hand and flew into mine. It was almost as tall as I was, with a balance to it that felt like it was carved for me. I pointed it at her. “I may not know how to use this, but I’m willing to bet this nice, sharp point can pierce your body shield before you have a chance to throw that essence at me. Shall we test that theory?”

Ceridwen went white with rage. “This is treason.”

I threw the spear to the floor. “I’m not your subject. Threaten me again, Ceridwen, and I’ll give you more than your little toothpick to worry about.”

I stalked from the room, leaving the door open behind me. Sweeping up my daggers, I secured them in their boot sheaths without pausing. People loitering outside the room tilted stunned faces in at Ceridwen. They drew away from me as I passed. Not the Guild security agents. Five of them blocked my way at the elevator. “Her Highness demands your attendance immediately,” one of them said from behind his featureless chrome helmet.

“Tell Ceridwen she can call me and make an appointment at my convenience,” I said. His body stiffened at my casual use of her given name. Nothing insults royals more than treating them as equals. I moved to step around the agents, but they shifted in front of me again. I glared at the agent who had spoken. “I am not going to say this again. I do not answer to Tara. Now move.”

Manus pushed his way through the gathering onlookers, with Nigel at his side. “Let me speak to the queen,” he said. He closed his eyes and frowned. If doing a sending over such a short distance caused him that much pain, he really was in bad shape. He opened his eyes. The security agents nodded and moved to one side.

I inclined my head toward Manus. “Thank you, sir.”

He held my shoulder. “A small favor at most, Grey.”

Nigel joined me in the elevator. When the doors closed, I glared at him. “What the hell happened in there, Nigel?”

He raised a calm eyebrow. “Technically, you insulted the High Queen Maeve via her proxy.”

I frowned. “I know that.”

Nigel smiled. “Yes, but this time she might actually hear about it.” He extended a long, thin finger and pressed the elevator STOP button. “Now, you tell me what happened.”

I leaned against the wall of the car. Nigel was healthier-looking than he had been a few weeks earlier, though more gray hair mixed in with the brown. The way he wore it swept straight back and falling to the back of his neck gave him an academic air. Academic he certainly was. He was also a powerful druid. He had been pushed to the limit at Forest Hills and almost died. “It’s the thing in my head, Nigel. It rejected the compulsion spell from the spear, just like it resisted the control spell at Forest Hills.”

He nodded. “Yes, well, you were difficult to compel even before you had that problem. But why did you knock Ceridwen off her feet? Not very polite.”

“I didn’t. At least, I don’t think I did. I think the spear was reacting to what it perceived as my desire.”

Nigel slipped his hands in his pockets and looked down at the floor. “Hmm. The spear. I think this spear is more than it appears to the Seelie Court.”

“The runes.”

He pursed his lips. “Yes. I could feel that they were made for druid eyes only. Those runes invest whoever holds the spear with the authority of law.”

“Me? I’m not at that level.” I had left my druidic studies long before I completed a mastery of law.

Nigel’s eyes shifted back and forth as he considered the implications. “I agree. It’s curious that it responded to you. It means you have the right to use the spear just as Ceridwen does, maybe more so because of the second runes.”

I nodded. “She said it was bonded to her. When I called it, it came to my hand.”

His eyebrows shot up. “It came to you? How did you know how to call it?”

I shrugged. “Ceridwen used the command in front of me. When I used it, the spear jumped to my hand.”

Nigel’s eyes wandered again as a slight smile came to his face. I’d seen the look before. He liked nothing better than a puzzle. “That means it’s now bonded to you, too. If we can figure out the command for the second line of runes, the spear will surrender itself to you alone. She won’t like that.”

I sighed. “Why me?”

I meant it only rhetorically, but Nigel answered anyway. “These things follow a pattern of circumstance. The right conditions at the right time and the right person.” Then he dropped a slight sarcasm into his voice. “Of course, Briallen would probably tell you it’s the Wheel of the World, but you know I don’t subscribe to such notions.”

I shrugged. “Either way, I didn’t ask for it. What about the other runes?”

“When the bonded holder of the spear holds it, everyone can see the Way Seeker set. Many spears like it were made for court purposes. They’re not that rare among the fey. Maeve probably gave it to Ceridwen not realizing it was something more. When you touched the spear, I felt druidic resonance from the Way Maker runes. I’d wager that no one in that room but you, Briallen, and I could see them.”

He stopped speaking, lost in thought. When he didn’t continue, a suspicion came to my mind. I didn’t think he knew about the third set of runes. “Successive sets take precedence over the last?”

He shrugged. “Of course. That’s the way these things work. The spear responds to need. Ceridwen came on a truth-seeking mission, and the spear bonded with her on that level. If your need were only truth, the druid runes would not have activated, and you and Ceridwen would simply share ownership. For some reason, the spear is responding to your need for the rule of law. Full ownership will pass to you if we can learn the command word for the second set. If another druid has the need and knows the command, you would then share ownership with him. What doesn’t make sense is you’re not trained in the law. It’s curious.”

Again Nigel stopped speaking and confirmed my suspicion. He had not seen the blaze of essence that read Way Keeper. I pushed it one more time but in a way that I hoped wouldn’t arouse his suspicions. “What about a third set?”

He looked up and smiled. “That would be extremely rare, especially on a spear of truth and law. Very little takes precedence over those two. A third set is feasible, but usually for a unique purpose.”

Great. There was no way the spear reacted to my legal abilities. I always wanted to be the guy who hired lawyers, not the guy who had to take someone else’s call. My gut told me the spear was responding to me for the third set of runes, which the spear or whoever made it decided I was the only one to see them. “I don’t want it.”

Nigel released the STOP button on the elevator, and the car descended again. “Just because it’s yours doesn’t mean you have to use it. It will come if you command, no matter where it is. What you do with it from that point on is your choice.”

The doors opened on the main lobby, and I stepped out while Nigel remained. He held the door. “Do me a favor, Connor? I know you don’t have enormous respect for the monarchy, but could you keep it reined in until Ceridwen leaves? She’ll understand why I called up that essence, but she won’t be pleased with me. I have much to do, and keeping her calm is difficult enough as it is.”

A favor. Nigel Martin, my old, domineering mentor, was asking me for a favor. Not too long ago, he would have told me to do as he said and expected me to do it. I guess the ass-chewing I had given him a few weeks ago had had its effect. “Not a problem, Nigel. The last thing I want to do is talk to Ceridwen again.”

He sighed and pushed the elevator button. “That’s what I’m afraid of. After what just happened, I’m sure she’s going to want to talk to you.” The doors closed.

Out in the afternoon sun, Briallen waited on the sidewalk. Two Guild security agents and a few brownie security guards made a not-so-subtle perimeter around her. Other pedestrians gave them a wide berth. She looked relieved when she saw me. “Walk me home?”

“Of course,” I said.

Tension flowed off her as we made our way toward Boston Common. The brownie security unit stopped following when we moved through the tingle of the invisible shield surrounding the Guildhouse. The Danann security agents remained a few paces behind us. Briallen didn’t speak. We crossed the street and entered the broad lawn of Boston Common. About halfway across the open green space, Briallen wheeled around to face the agents. “I told Manus I don’t need security.”

One of the agents inclined his chrome helmet toward her. “We have our orders, ma’am.”

She set her face in annoyance. “I don’t care what your orders are. I don’t want… oh, dammit, I don’t have time for this crap.” She muttered something Gaelic and waved her hand at the agents. In the cool air, a puff of steam wafted over them. They both startled, then looked around in confusion. They turned and went back toward the Guildhouse. Briallen slipped her arm through mine, and we resumed walking. “That’s better.”

At the base of the fairy hill in the center of the Common, we threaded our way through a number of gargoyles in the grass. “That’s odd,” I said.

Briallen hummed agreement. “Yes, I find it very interesting. Gargoyles are sensitive to essence. I think they’re sensing something about the fairy ring at the top of the hill. There are indications that a veil may form for the first time since Convergence.”

Every year, a circle of flat-top mushrooms grew near the grassy summit of the hill. How the ring appeared was a mystery, one of those places that had been unnoticed, yet known for years. Who used it first and whether it sprang organically from the ground or was seeded, no one knows. There was a Power in the ring even human normals could feel. I’ve been seen a lot of fairy rings, and the Boston ring was one of the strongest. “That’s wishful thinking, Briallen. It’s just Samhain. They could be attracted to the increase in fey people performing seasonal rituals up there.”

She stopped again. “Maybe.”

She placed her hands on either side of my head and sent warm lines of essence into my head. “That’s a relief. I was worried that damned spear did something to the darkness in your mind.”

“I’ve bonded with it.”

She shook her head. “I hate those stupid things. Nigel loves them, but in my experience, artifacts like that have a way of screwing up things.”

I tilted my head down at her. “I seem to recall someone giving me a charmed dagger.”

She gave me a friendly poke. “That’s different. I gave it to you. Things like the spear work of their own accord. Some idiot puts a bonding criterion on it, and who the hell knows where the thing will end up.”

After what Nigel said, I couldn’t resist. “Maybe the Wheel of the World influences where it ends up.”

“Yes, well, the Wheel of the World functions quite fine on Its own, thank you. It doesn’t need some old druid making weapons that can muck things around.”

We reached Beacon Street and crossed into the Beacon Hill neighborhood. Cheerful pumpkins and cats decorated doors and windows as we strolled past the old townhouses. Samhain was one of those holidays that everybody celebrated in some form. It had different levels of meaning depending on the culture. For the Teutonic fey, it was a celebration of the continuity of life. For the Celts, it was a more mournful affair of remembrance for those who had died. For both sides of the fey divide, it was the start of the new year. Of course, for human normals, it was all about candy. Given a choice, I preferred the candy.

On the sidewalk in front of Briallen’s townhouse, she took both my hands in hers. “Listen to me, Connor. The Guildhouse is in absolute turmoil. I actually like Ceridwen, but I’m worried she’s going after Manus. My suspicion is that she wants to replace him with Ryan macGoren because he’ll be more obedient to Maeve. If that happens, I’m afraid it will fracture the board even more.”

I cocked my head. “And I care about this because…”

She tugged my hands. “Because the Dananns are terrified of this taint on the essence here, and they don’t want it to spread. You accidentally got in the middle of all this, and you know macGoren is not your friend. I have influence, but at a certain point, I may not be able to keep them from bothering you. They think you might be lying about what you know of the Taint. It was made by a druid and stopped by a druid. All the Seelie Court sees is a threat to its power, and when that stuff starts happening, people get hurt.”

I brought her hands up to my lips and kissed them. “I promise not to poke or tease the Faerie queen, okay?”

She chuckled. “Don’t make promises we know you can’t keep. If I could make you go on a vacation right now, I would.”

I swung her hands playfully. “No, really. I have an odd little murder case I much prefer dealing with. I will avoid Ceridwen completely if I can.”

She nodded. “Okay, that I can believe.”

I gave her a wicked smile. “Am I mistaken, but did you imply back in that room that you are peer to a Faerie queen?”

She laughed again. “Oh, I’m not implying. I am. Years ago, I was made an honorary underQueen for services rendered to the Seelie Court. Since Convergence, none of the underQueens and underKings have physical realms anymore, so I ended up on equal footing. See what I mean about criteria? You never know what the results will be.”

I shook my head. “The more I learn about you…”

She kissed my cheek. “The less you know. Go solve your murder, sweetie. I have a political crisis to manage.”