by Terri Reid
“Does it work?” Sean asked.
“Well, in theory,” Ian said. “We haven’t tested it yet.”
“I’ll try it,” Adrian offered. “I’d like to be able to figure out who I’m really talking to.”
“How long does it last?” Pete asked.
Ian shook his head. “I’m not sure about that either,” he said. “The old recipe I took it from suggested that travelers spray it in their eyes before a journey so they wouldn’t be deceived.”
Sean shrugged. “Well, it’s probably good for at least a couple of hours,” he said. “You should give it a shot.”
Ian walked over to them and sprayed the bottle. A fine mist of spray filled the area.
“Hey,” Sean exclaimed, wiping the excess moisture off his face. “I didn’t volunteer to try this stuff.”
“Sorry, the sprayer was more powerful than I thought,” he said. “But, it’s only herbs, so it won’t hurt you.”
“In the meantime,” Pete interrupted, “we’ve got to figure out how to either stop the Hunt or how to fight them.”
Ian nodded. “Aye, we’ll need to call a meeting and put together a battle plan.”
Sean nodded. “Yeah, but before we do that,” he said, “we better get Adrian back to work so no one gets suspicious. So, Ian, he can’t walk around with a helmet on his head. What’s he supposed to do?”
Ian picked up a small stainless steel bowl and a roll of gauze. “I’m afraid, Adrian, that you had a bit of a run-in with your head and a heavy object,” he said. “And the doctor told you to keep it bandaged for several days to avoid infection.”
Ian removed the helmet, quickly placed the bowl on Adrian’s head and started covering it with gauze.
“As soon as you’re done,” Sean said, “I’ll get him back to Slainte to pick up his car. Then I have to run one quick errand and I’ll be back for the meeting. Give me an hour, okay?”
Ian nodded as he tucked the last strand of gauze underneath the others and applied some medical tape. “I’ll get everyone together,” he said. “And Adrian, you need to act like nothing’s wrong. If someone you don’t recognize starts up a conversation, remember to play along.”
“Yeah, I can do that,” he said. “Do you need me at this meeting?”
Sean shook his head. “No, because I really don’t know who I can trust yet,” he said. “And I don’t want to risk your safety.”
“Dude, I caused this,” Adrian said. “My safety ain’t worth shit.”
“I already told you,” Sean said. “This wasn’t you, it was them. You’re nothing but a victim, too.”
“Yeah, well I sure wish I felt that way,” Adrian said.
“Start thinking that way,” Sean replied. “That’s an order.”
Chapter Fifty-six
After dropping Adrian off at Slainte, Sean drove through a coffee shop for a tea and a couple of scones and headed for lower Wacker Drive. It was early, but he was sure he’d find Hettie in her usual place. He wanted to be sure he had a chance to see her before he got pulled into the meetings with the Order.
The downtown rush hour traffic had thinned and Lower Wacker was already a ghost town with late sunbeams filtering between the mazes of downtown skyscrapers and creating a haze of sunlight and dust in the subterranean community. Sean felt like he was driving into a post-apocalyptic faery tale.
He spotted Hettie’s familiar dress at the end of the block and guided the cruiser to the curb nearby. She was turned away from him, sorting through her shopping cart, and he paused to look at her as he pulled the drink and bag from the car.
Okay, this day has been way too long, he thought. How can Hettie look taller?
He stared for another moment and then shrugged. Maybe she found a pair of high heels.
“Delivery is a little early today,” he called as he walked up behind her. His jaw and the bag of scones both dropped when she turned to face him. This wasn’t Hettie. The young, breathtakingly beautiful woman inside the green ball gown filled out the dress in a way that made Sean’s body react in an entirely unprofessional manner.
“Ah, Sean, you remembered me,” she replied.
Shaking his head, Sean now knew he was going crazy. Hettie’s voice was coming out of the woman’s mouth.
“Who the hell are you and what have you done with Hettie?” he demanded.
Cocking her head slightly to the side, she stared back at him. “What do you mean, Sean?” she asked, confusion evident on her face. “It’s just me, as always.”
“Yeah, you might have the voice down, but that body doesn’t belong to Hettie,” he replied firmly, moving closer to the imposter.
Eyes widening in understanding, she looked down at herself and then back at Sean. “Have you been playing with magic then, Sean O’Reilly?” she asked, a smile flitting across her face. “Have you done something to chase the glamour from your eyes?”
He stumbled back and stared. “What the hell do you know about glamour?” he whispered.
Her beautiful smile widened. “Oh, aye, my secret’s been revealed hasn’t it?” she replied. “You see me for myself, don’t you?”
“You are going to have to explain yourself to me,” he replied. “Are you Hettie?”
“Oh, aye, I am and I’m not,” she said, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. “For those not clever enough to see through my glamour, I’m Hettie the elderly hag, and to those whose eyes have been opened, I’m Mab.”
“Mab?” Sean asked.
“Aye, Mab, the Queen of the Unseelies,” she said. “Part of the aristocracy, but, as you humans so aptly put it, born on the wrong side of the tracks. So even though I’m not forced to live underground, I am forced to live without my subjects and my protectors. I am a queen without a court and have been alone for hundreds of years.”
Sean looked at the vibrant faerie with her golden hair, her glowing green eyes and her youthful appearance. She hadn’t been a helpless, homeless woman, and he’d been a gullible fool. She must have enjoyed laughing at him.
Placing the cup of tea on the sidewalk, Sean stepped back. “Well, your majesty, I’m glad I provided you some amusement,” he said, his voice tight with anger. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some important things to deal with.”
The smile left her face and she stepped forward, her arm raised towards him. “Oh, no, Sean O’Reilly,” she said. “‘Twas not amusement I felt when you took the time to care for an elderly woman. ‘Twas friendship and gratitude. You showed me that the human race could be noble and not just self-serving and silly. You taught me a great lesson, and I owe you for that.”
Taking a deep breath, trying to release some of the anger, he nodded and smiled tightly. “Well, thank you for that,” he said. “And now, really, I do have to get back.”
He started to turn and she stopped him again. “I want to help you,” she said. “Ask me for a favor, and I’ll grant it.”
He studied her for another moment. “Are you like a faery godmother then?” he asked.
Her smiled widened. “Oh, aye, and would you be wanting a fancy dress and a pumpkin carriage, Sean O’Reilly?”
“No, I want to stop the Wild Hunt,” he replied seriously.
Sighing, she shook her head. “I can’t stop them,” she said. “Once they’ve been summoned they can’t be turned back. Unless…”
“Unless?” Sean asked.
“Unless the Summoner or his champion challenge the Elk King to a battle in lieu of a hunt,” she said.
“I’m the Champion,” Sean replied. “How do I challenge the Elk King?”
“Please don’t ask me to do this for you, Sean,” she begged. “You don’t understand the consequences.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Sean replied. “I have no choice.”
She looked into his eyes and sighed. “Aye, that’s the problem with the noble,” she said sadly. “They die too young.”
Shrugging, he smiled at her. “Well, maybe you’re not giving me enough credit,” he said.
“I beat the Elk King’s horse. I bet I could do enough damage to get him to cry uncle.”
“Aye, but whether you win or lose, you have to pay the forfeit,” she said.
“The forfeit?” he asked.
She nodded slowly. “The Hunt has to bring back a prize,” she said. “If you defeat the Elk King, you will still be bound to go with them back to faery.”
“Underground?” he asked. “Forever?”
The sadness in her eyes made his stomach clench. “Aye, unless you escape,” she said. “And that’s a rare event.”
“But, if I win, they don’t come back, right?” he asked.
“Aye, they must return to faery,” she said. “Your world would be safe.”
Taking a deep breath, he paused for only a moment. “Set it up,” he said. “For tomorrow night. I’ll let you know where.”
“Are you sure, Sean O’Reilly?” she asked. “Because once a challenge has been issued, it cannot be revoked.”
He nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure,” he replied. “Thank you.”
“No, Sean O’Reilly, do not thank me for this thing I am doing for you,” she replied sadly. “For I am doing naught but helping you end your own life.”
Chapter Fifty-seven
Sean pulled the cruiser over once he had driven away from Lower Wacker, pulled into an empty parking lot, put the cruiser into park and laid his head in his hands.
What the hell have I just done?
He rubbed his hands over his face and took a deep breath. “Well, there’s no use crying over spilt milk. What’s done is done,” he said to his reflection in the rearview mirror. “Now all I have to figure out is a venue and how to escape from the faery world afterwards. No problem.”
He pulled out his wallet and found the small piece of paper that held the phone number of Marcus, the leader of the gang Em had nearly castrated with her sword. “Hey, Marcus, this is Detective O’Reilly,” he said when there was an answer on the other end of the line. “Do you remember who I am?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I remember you and that lady,” Marcus replied. Noting the nervous tremor in his voice, Sean had to smile slightly.
“I need your help,” Sean continued.
“Sure. Anything you need, man,” Marcus said.
“I need a place. A private place where I can have a throw down,” Sean said.
“You gonna have a throw down?” Marcus asked. “Why the hell you doing that? You’re the cops?”
“Yeah, well, it’s kind of a private throw down between me and the leader of the gang that took your friends down,” Sean explained. “I just want it to be held somewhere isolated, so no one innocent gets hurt.”
“Yeah, I get that,” Marcus said. He was quiet for a moment. “When do you need it?”
“Tomorrow night,” Sean replied.
“Okay, I can get you Soldier Field,” Marcus said.
“Soldier Field?” Sean asked incredulously, picturing the historic football field that was the home of the Chicago Bears. “Are you messing with me?”
“No, man, I know some people,” Marcus said. “That work for you?”
“Yeah,” Sean replied slowly. “That would be great.”
“What time?” Marcus asked.
“How about nine o’clock?” Sean suggested.
“Works for me,” Marcus replied. “And me and some of my homies will show up for security. We got your back.”
“Thanks, Marcus,” Sean said, thinking the backup wouldn’t be a bad idea. “I appreciate it.”
“We on the same team, you and me,” Marcus replied. “See you then.”
“Yeah, see you,” Sean said and then he hung up the phone.
He put the cruiser in drive and pulled to the edge of the driveway, clicking his turn signal to show a right turn but, at the last moment, flicked it over to the other side and drove back to Lower Wacker.
A few minutes later he pulled up to the curb next to Hettie, or Mab he corrected mentally. He got out of the car and walked over to the faery queen who was sitting quietly on a tattered lawn chair drinking her tea. “Not the throne I would have expected for a queen,” he said.
She looked up at him and shrugged. “Aye, things have gone downhill for me,” she said.
“Downhill enough that you would like the treaty to be broken?” he asked.
“Are you now thinking that I’m an accomplice to murder?” she asked.
Sean placed his hands on his hips and shook his head. “I don’t know what I think,” he answered honestly. “I feel like my world has been turned upside down in the past few days. The things I thought I knew to be true are now lies.”
She stood with the grace and dignity of a queen and folded her arms across her chest. “Not lies, Sean O’Reilly. You just didn’t have the whole picture in front of you,” she said. “The greatest power of faery is the ability to only present what we want to present, give you a portion of the truth, or a part of the picture, so you proceed in a fog. The fog is lifted for you; you have to decide how to deal with it.”
Studying her for a moment, Sean rocked back on his heels thoughtfully. “We have a place for the contest. It will be at Soldier Field tomorrow night at nine. How do I win against the Elk King?” he asked.
She smiled. “Good for you, a direct question,” she replied, nodding her head in approval. “The Elk King is a hunter, not a warrior. He is used to pursuing unarmed and often surprised prey. You will be both armed and prepared, so you will have that advantage. He will be on horseback, so he will have speed but not maneuverability. You must be both nimble and quick in order to avoid his sword.”
“Does he have a weak spot?” Sean asked.
Her smile broadened. “Another excellent question,” she said. “Yes, the skull of the elk protects his vulnerable area. If you were able to thrust your sword into the darkness where his face should be, you will destroy him.”
“Does that mean I won’t have to forfeit my life?” Sean asked.
Her smile disappeared. “No, sadly it does not,” she replied. “He is an immortal creature. You will have destroyed him on this playing field, but he will live yet again. And once the tournament is over, the rest of the Hunt will seize you and bring you down to faery.”
Sean nodded. “Thank you, Hettie…or Mab…or Your Highness,” he stammered, closing his eyes in frustration. Finally, he opened them again and met hers. “Thank you for helping me. Thank you for truly being a friend. I apologize for doubting you.”
Her smile was sad as she stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on his cheek. “Oh, you must always doubt a faerie,” she said softly. “We are forever engaged in mischief.”
He smiled at her and nodded.
“And where will you go now?” she asked.
He took a quick, shuddering breath and looked over her shoulder for a moment. “I need to meet with my friends and tell them as much about tomorrow night as I can,” he said. “And then I need to visit my parents and tell them goodbye.”
Chapter Fifty-eight
The back door of the church was opened before Sean reached it, and Em stood in the doorway waiting for him. “The others are in Father Jack’s apartment waiting for us,” she said. “But I wanted a few moments alone with you before you met with them.”
He nodded silently, entered the church and leaned back against the wall in the hallway. “What can I do for you?” he asked.
She studied him for a long moment and then finally spoke. “What have you done?” she asked.
“What do you mean?” he asked, surprised.
“You and I are linked,” she replied, moving closer to him. “I get…” She paused, searching for the words. “Feelings. I get feelings about you, and there is something wrong. There is something different.”
He shrugged. “Probably nerves,” he admitted. “I set up a duel with the Elk King for tomorrow night.”
“You did what?” she exclaimed. “What the hell were you thinking?”
He had to admit, it felt good to have
Em react that way. She cared. Not that it would do either of them much good. But it was a nice feeling.
“Hey, no big deal,” he said with a casual shrug. “I’m going to fight him tomorrow night. I’ve beat him once. I can do it again.”
Em stepped even closer so that they were only inches apart, her eyes blazing with anger. “I beat him,” she reminded him. “You punched his horse in the nose. You are no match for the Elk King. You should have let me fight him.”
He shook his head. “I couldn’t do that, Em,” he said softly, hoping she’d understand. “I’m the guy with the special sword. It’s my job to take on the bad guys.”
He pushed away from the wall, placed his hand on her shoulder, and leaned forward so their foreheads were touching. “I know you’re a better warrior than me,” he said softly. “I’m hoping you’ll give me some pointers before tomorrow night.”
She sighed softly. “There’s so much for you to learn,” she explained, trying to keep the frustration out of her voice. “You have to call this off. There has to be another way.”
“I can’t,” he said simply. “People will die. Children will die. This is the only way.”
He lifted his hand and caressed her cheek. She lifted her head and their eyes met. “Em,” he whispered as he slid his hand around to the back of her neck to pull her closer.
“Ah, there you are,” Ian called from down the hall. “I’ve assembled the team, as you requested.”
“We’ll be there in a moment,” Sean called back.
He dropped his hand from Em’s neck and stepped back slowly, his eyes still on hers. “I’m sorry about what happened to you today, in the gym,” he said softly. “I’m sorry he used my face. I’m sorry he hurt you. I would have never hurt you like that.”
She nodded mutely.
“Do you believe me?” he asked.
“Aye,” she said. “And I should have known that it would not be like you to force yourself on a woman. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you more.”
He shook his head. “You’ve nothing to apologize for,” he insisted. “You just always have to remember…” He stopped himself and inhaled sharply.