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.”
23
Rest, Gillen had suggested. As if the idea that Manus ap Eagan might be healed or that I might have a chance at getting rid of the darkness were rest-inducing. I tossed and turned in a bedroom on the second floor, the deep silence in the house not helping me to relax. The Tangle was full of noise that became a soothing backdrop to fall asleep to. Eagan’s house was out in the suburbs and removed enough from the main road that a police siren was a faint echo.
Intruders.
I was out of bed with my daggers in hand before Tibbet’s sending faded from my mind. In silence, I moved behind the door, keeping out of the moonlight. I didn’t have the ability to respond to Tibbet and didn’t know where the intruders were. I crept along the wall, keeping my eye on the door as I approached the window. Nothing moved on the lawn outside. At the foot of the front steps, a brownie guard lay on the ground, unmoving.
Third floor clear. Meet me in the back stairwell.
Without hesitation, I entered the corridor. Toward the main staircase, a dim light flickered from the grand hall. It was too far off and opposite Tibbet’s direction. Tibbet knew her territory, and if she told me to jump off a bridge, I would. I went the other way, slipping into the next door to retrieve Shay.
Shay’s bedroom was black as pitch. I closed my eyes to focus with my sensing ability. Faint purple wisps showed where Shay had crossed the room to the dresser, the open windows, and the bed. A thicker buildup on the bed indicated he had been asleep. I checked on the opposite side and under the bed, but the floor was empty. He wasn’t in the room.
At the open window, essence splayed along the floor and over the sill. Two flights below, Shay’s hat sat on the lawn. I peered into the darkness, trying to figure which way he had run.
“Dammit, Shay, you could have killed yourself,” I said under my breath. I quick-stepped back to the door and listened for sound in the hall.
“I’m here, Connor,” Shay whispered.
I spun on my heel, daggers wide and low. Shay, fully dressed, stood by the windows. “Where the hell did you come from?”
He crossed the room on silent feet, avoiding light from outside. “Behind the curtain.”
“I thought you’d jumped,” I said.
In the dim light, his faint body essence illuminated his face. “The fey always assume that because humans can’t manipulate essence, we can’t use it. It’s an old trick in the Weird to hide in your own shadow. You looked where I made you look.”
“Well, it worked. Nice move,” I said.
He grinned. “Thank you.”
“Why did you hide?”
“I heard essence-fire. It was faint, but when you live around it and have no defense against it, you kinda get sensitive hearing. What’s going on? The guards are gone.”
“Security breach. We have to meet Tibbet. Stay behind me and do exactly as I say,” I said.
I opened the door. The light from the grand hall seemed brighter, and I heard muffled voices. We slipped out and hustled in the opposite direction to the back stairwell. Someone moved on the landing below us, then Tibbet’s essence tickled at my senses. We descended to the first floor.
Tibbet didn’t look at us when we turned the corner. She leaned against the wall, trying to see something out the window. She had a headset on. Her face was not something you want to see in a brownie. Her cheekbones and eye ridges had become more prominent. The hand that rested on the windowsill had elongated fingers tipped with nascent claws. She was not far from going boggie.
“What’s the status?” I asked.
She held up a hand as the headset whispered. “Aerial support is gone. Front gate and lawn perimeter down.”
“What about Eagan?” I asked.
“His bedroom is sealed. Not even Maeve can get in there. The front of the house is breached. Let’s move.” She led us back up the second-floor corridor. A brownie in a house uniform waited outside Eagan’s bedroom. She wasn’t regular security, but her calm manner despite the boggart signs of long claws and teeth told me that Tibbet hired multiskilled cleaning staff. At the far end, a brownie in full boggart mode guarded access from the staircase.
Inside Eagan’s bedroom, Tibbet hurried to the window. “We’ve been co-opted, but the silent alarms triggered.”
“What the hell is going on?”
She did look at me then. “I don’t know. Sendings are being jammed. They’re either after that stone ward or you. Those are the two main variables here.”
“Gee, thanks,” said Shay.
Tibbet glanced at him. “Since you’re the only one who can carry the ward, I wouldn’t be too disappointed.”
“Pack the bowl, Shay. We’re getting out of here,” I said.
Tibbet moved to the opposite window. “That might not be possible. The Danann security agents have vanished. They were on a regular rotation through the Guildhouse. The house guards are our staff. Except for the two outside, they’re either nonresponsive or dead. It will be at least fifteen minutes before major backup support responds to the failed system. Get Shay to the greenhouse. I can cover you from here.”
Shay adjusted the straps on his messenger bag. “Are you kidding? That place looks like I can kick it over.”
“Glass and iron. It’ll screw up whatever’s coming down,” Tibbet said.
“We’re n
ot leaving you alone,” I said.
Shadows accentuated the changes in her face. She was not the concerned brownie anymore but the cold boggart. “This is major opposition, Connor. We need to separate the potential targets. I can hold the house for a while. There’s a bunker under the greenhouse. The door is under the rug.”
“You have a greenhouse with a bunker?” Shay said.
Tibbet smiled. “And a tunnel and a few booby traps. There’s a car at the end of it.”
“That’s preparation,” he said.
She leaned over Eagan’s sleeping body, placing a hand on his forehead. “I throw a mean party, too. Get moving.”
I grabbed her. “Tibs.”
I stared into eyes tinged with a feral red light. “Go. Now,” she rasped.
I kissed her. Grabbing Shay by the arm, I hustled him out of the room. The brownie guard outside the door was gone. Sounds of a struggle echoed up the back stairs. We ran for the grand staircase on the opposite end of the house. The brownie that waited there had gone full boggie, but had not lost his senses. Tibs had some amazing staff. He growled as we approached and scampered down the stairs ahead of us.
“Don’t leave my side for a second,” I said to Shay.
We waited in the gloom. The boggart moved through the great hall at an astonishing speed. He returned to the base of the stairs and waved us down.
“There are French doors at the back of the hall, Shay. The greenhouse is a straight shot across the lawn from there. Keep low and do not stop,” I said.
He clutched the stone ward against his chest. “They can’t take the bowl, right? Why don’t we leave it somewhere and get out?”
“Because they’ll find it and figure the geasa out eventually, and we’ll never see it again. I don’t want to think about something that powerful being in the hands of whoever is out there. Get going before we can’t get out,” I said.
A muffled explosion shook the house as the attackers dropped any pretense of stealth. We ran around the stuffed elephant and into the back alcove. Through the windows in the doors, the greenhouse loomed in the darkness, its skeletal frame a dull white against the backdrop of tall cedars.
I activated my body shield, enveloping Shay in its protection. Another explosion from the right shivered against the glass doors. Shredded essence floated across the back lawn, the remains of barrier shields that had been disabled. Without the wards anchoring them, their energy dissipated in the night air. Here and there at the far end of the property, pools of essence indicated the passage of Danann fairies and brownie security. From that distance, I couldn’t identify specific signatures.
Something moved across the grass, a dark shadow pierced by glowing red eyes. The shadow resolved into the shape of Uno. He had grown enormous, his legs almost three feet long and his muzzle as wide. He trotted toward the greenhouse and stopped next to the door, settling on his haunches.
Frightened, Shay leaned back against me. “Why is he here, Connor?”
“Uno has never hurt us, Shay,” I said.
“It’s not him I’m worried about,” he said.
“He’s waiting for us. Fifty yards, tops. Are you ready?”
He moved to my side. “You’ve got longer legs than I do. Don’t leave me behind.”
“I won’t,” I said.
I took his arm to reassure him. We moved out the door, crouching across the pavers and onto the grass. Essence-fire flashed and burned, more warning shots than directed blasts. We started to run, closing the distance to the greenhouse.
Gunfire erupted from the back lawn. I wasn’t expecting guns, a rookie mistake. The fey came at each other with essence, not bullets. My body shield shifted and folded as bullets grazed it, the force of impact knocking us apart. I shoved Shay to the ground among low shrubbery.
Shay’s messenger bag flew free as he tumbled, its contents spilling out. The stone bowl rolled onto the grass. Instinctively, I grabbed it, surprised that it moved at my touch, my fingers slipping across wet stone. I lifted my hand. Blood covered the palm. I was sore from my shield contracting, but I wasn’t bleeding. I cradled the bowl against my side and crawled toward Shay.
More shots fired, turf spitting into the air around us. Shay kept his head down, not reacting. I shook his shoulder. “Are you hit, Shay?”
He didn’t move. I pushed against his side, rolling him onto his back. His eyes fluttered open. “Connor,” he whispered. Blood oozed from his lips.
My hands came away with more blood as I searched his chest and stomach. “Dammit. Where are you hit, Shay?”
Uno howled, an unearthly wail that shot fear up my spine. He lumbered toward us, howling louder—and growing bigger.
“He looks so beautiful.” Shay’s voice echoed with moisture.
“Hang on, Shay. I’ll get you out of here,” I said.
As I leaned over him, placing the bowl against his chest, I gathered him in my arms. Uno barreled into me, pinning me on my back, his muzzle looming over me, huge and foul. Snarling, he backed away, then shifted his bulk over Shay. He opened his mouth—and opened it and opened it—a huge maw of shadow spreading over Shay. Lowering his head, Uno wrapped his jaws around him, knocking the stone ward bowl to the ground.
I scrambled to my feet. “No!”
I leaped, slamming into Uno’s flank. I flopped away like I had hit a brick wall. Uno lifted his head, Shay dangling from either side of his jaws. The massive animal arched his back and stretched his neck out. Shay rolled inward, curling into a fetal ball, then vanished into the shadowed gullet.
Uno threw his head back and yowled with a song of sorrow. Tears burst from my eyes at the sound, a keening that reached deep into my soul. I fell to my knees as grief shocked through me. Uno lowered his head, staring at me with his eyes ablaze. With a soft bark, he turned and lumbered off, vanishing into the night.
I jumped to my feet, roaring with rage at the darkness, when someone tackled me.
24
Tibbet’s body signature registered, and I stopped struggling. She eased off me, crouching in the grass and facing the back lawn. Light glinted off metal there as faint human body signatures moved against the dark.
Tibbet’s face contorted, with an extended jaw bristling with teeth. She clutched the grass with sharp claws on her hands and feet, a feral gleam in her eye. Unlike her brethren, Tibbet was able to retain her sanity when she was boggie. The skill came from years of practice and a strong will. Get to the greenhouse now, she sent.
“I can’t leave you, Tibs,” I said. Not then. Not after what happened with Shay.
No time. We are defenseless, she sent.
“Tibs….” I said.
She bared jagged teeth, gripping my arm with sharp claws. “Please,” she rasped. Her eyes showed a determination I couldn’t argue with. She spun in place, then leaped into the darkness, the shape of her lost in a blur of preternatural speed. Someone screamed out there, a man’s harsh cry. Gunfire sprayed the grass, then more screaming rent the air. Tibbet was not going to let the mansion go down without a fight.
I scooped up the stone bowl from where it had fallen and ran the remaining yards to the greenhouse. The door let me into an air lock. After closing the outer door behind me, I opened the inner door and left it open. The outer door wouldn’t open if the inner was open. It would slow down pursuit until someone decided to smash through the glass walls.
Inside, the humid air stank of rot. Eagan had spent a lot of time in the greenhouse, the heavy moisture easing the brittleness in his wings. The vegetation had been lush and thick once. The plants had been allowed to wither. The room seemed bigger as result, and the windowpanes along the walls were more visible. The muzzle flash from gunfire lit the air like lightning, and glass shattered overhead.
I knocked aside two armchairs on the oriental carpet in the center of the room. Yanking back the carpet, I exposed the trapdoor. Tucking the stone bowl in my jacket, I heaved the door open with both hands and clambered down a short flight of stairs. The door
slammed shut behind me, and I slid a large dead bolt across it.
Motion detectors brought the lights up. The bunker was a narrow room with a simple table and chairs and shelves filled with boxes. An open door led to a bedroom/office that could have been photographed for a design magazine. I skipped it and made for the door on the far end. More lights flickered on to reveal a long, narrow corridor. I locked the door behind me. The lights flashed on and off as I followed the long line of bare bulbs down the corridor and off the estate.
After I had run about a mile, another door appeared ahead. Beyond it, a staircase led up to a garage, empty except for a small black sedan. I jumped in and fished keys from under the seat. The glove compartment and the console held nothing but a few rolls of quarters and the insurance and registration papers. People who could do sendings didn’t think of storing a throwaway cell phone. I hit a remote on the dashboard. As the garage door opened, I put the car in gear, then shifted back into park.
I reached in my jacket and withdrew the stone bowl, cradling it in my hands, hands stained with Shay’s blood. The bowl was stained, too, Shay’s blood seeping into the grain of the stone. Shay might have been worldly beyond his years, more a man than most, a quirk of fate that made him a virgin in the eyes of old Faerie. His blood broke the geasa; a young man, barely past boyhood, was dead because he had been pulled into the craziness of my life.
From the day I laid eyes on him, I wanted to see him safe. He had fire and spirit that deserved more than the lot he had been given in life. I wanted him to have the chance to become all he wanted to be, but he’d had the misfortune of meeting me. He never expected me to protect him, but I tried anyway. And I failed. Of everything that had happened to me, to the people around me, I didn’t know what I could ever do to atone for his loss, but I would try. That was all I ever wanted to do for him. Try.
I settled the bowl in my lap and put the car in gear. I pulled out into a quiet neighborhood, modest by Brookline standards, which meant the multimillion-dollar homes were within spitting distance of each other. I saw no one as I followed the GPS map out of the area.
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