I held out my hand. “Time’s wasting.”
“Hold on.” She ran back into the apartment and returned with a pair of canvas gloves. “I saw these on the counter. They’ll protect your hands some.”
“Thanks.” I pulled on the gloves.
Meryl hugged me from behind, one arm over my left shoulder, the other under my right arm. Her body shield flared around us. “Go!”
I jumped and grabbed the nearest cable. Momentum carried our weight across the shaft. “I’m sliding,” I said.
“I thought that was the plan,” Meryl said to the back of my head.
I relaxed my grip, and we started down. Meryl chanted behind me, and a thick mist billowed around us as she created a druid fog. The flashlight beams of the brownies drew closer. The brownies shouted as the fog obscured their vision. The gloves were coming off, and I grabbed the cable tighter. We jerked to a stop, my shoulders threatening to dislocate. We hung in the fog as a half dozen brownies on the stairs circled obliviously around us. I settled my hands deeper into the gloves when they passed and let go again. We spiraled around the cable the last three floors and hit the top of the elevator. Meryl’s body shield bounced us off the mechanics of the lift, and we rolled apart. The hatch on the elevator popped open. Meryl thrust essence-charged hands at the opening.
“Hurry up before they realize you’re gone,” a deep voice said.
Through the elevator hatch, a dwarf I didn’t know stared up at us. I gave Meryl a shrug and jumped. I landed on my feet and held my hands up to break Meryl’s fall. I didn’t need to. She grabbed the edge of the opening and swung herself through, landing with a lot more grace than I had.
“This way,” said the dwarf. He darted out of the propped-open gate, and we followed him through a twisting basement corridor. Another dwarf stood at a door, gesturing us in. We ran through to a sizable room with several couches arranged around a wide shallow bronze vessel of water. A scrying pool. Someone slammed the door shut. “I thought you guys moved,” I said.
“That’s what everyone was supposed to think,” the first dwarf said. He joined his partner in pushing a large bookcase out of the way to expose a short, finished opening in the wall. “Through here. Don’t stop until you get to the car.”
“Whoa, whoa. Who the hell are you people?’ I asked.
The dwarf threw me an annoyed look. “Does this look like a party? Everything you need to know is in the car. Get moving.”
We moved toward the opening, but the dwarf held his hand in front of Meryl. “She can’t go.”
I glared at him. “What the hell? I’m not leaving her here.”
“No, go ahead,” Meryl said.
“What!”
She nodded. “No, really. I’ll be fine. I’ll scrub your essence trail and slow them down.”
“No,” I said.
She turned back to the door. “Just go, Grey. They’re not after me. You’re going to screw up whoever did this for you. Move!”
I hesitated. The dwarf sighed heavily and pushed me. I fell through the opening, and someone grabbed my arm. I looked back at Meryl’s retreating figure. “Get Joe for me, Meryl!”
The bookcase slid back in place. I jerked my arm away. A flashlight clicked on. In the backwash of light, another dwarf smiled at me. “Hey, Grey. Fancy meeting you here.”
Banjo turned and walked away. “Will you please tell me what’s going on? Is this Moke’s doing?” I asked.
Banjo and Moke had helped me out of a tight spot a few weeks earlier. Moke’s troll essence was still bonded to me from the experience. “No, he’s taking care of one of the bridges. This is just a side job I picked up from an old friend,” Banjo said over his shoulder.
He led the way in the dark through some kind of rough tunnel. My sense of direction told me we were somewhere behind my building under the street. “Side job for who?” I asked.
“Whom,” Banjo said. We passed through another opening into a dark basement. “You don’t need to know. Keeps things safer that way.”
“Did you foresee this?” I asked.
Banjo was one of the best seers in the Boston, or at least claimed to be. Dwarves were damned good at scrying. “Parts of it,” he said. He pointed to a door. “That’s the exit. Car’s waiting.”
I gave up. My experience with Banjo was that if I didn’t pay for his predictions, I wasn’t going to get them. I opened the door. “Thanks. Tell Moke I said hi.”
“He’ll be flattered, I’m sure. Mind your—” I stumbled in a pothole but kept my feet. Banjo shrugged. “Step.” He closed the door.
I was in the alley behind the building next to mine. A black car with diplomatic plates idled in the lane. The rear door opened on the passenger side.
“You arrived faster than I anticipated,” Eorla said.
35
“The early warning you sent helped,” I said, as the driver gunned it up the alley.
Eorla tilted her head. “I sent no warning.”
I shook my head in exasperation. “Great. Whatever. What the hell is going on?”
Eorla glanced out the window as we crossed Old Northern Avenue. Fire lit the night sky in several places. “The Guild either overplayed or underplayed its hand. I haven’t decided.”
“The Guild? That’s the Guild in my apartment building?”
She nodded. “Of course. Didn’t your security system fail? Who else has the knowledge and ability to do that?”
“Is this because of what happened at Eagan’s?”
Eorla placed a delicate hand on my thigh. “Bastian told you before that happened that the Guild was working through legal channels to arrest you. With the unrest caused by the commissioner’s death, they panicked that they might lose you.”
We slowed as we turned onto Congress Street. Brownie security guards were marching on a group of elves in the street after curfew. Eorla pursed her lips as she assessed the scene. “Overplayed, I think. They started something with these people and have lost control.”
“Eorla, I do not have any idea what you are talking about,” I said.
She shifted on the seat. “The Guild was using the Dead to flush out Bergin Vize. The solitaries were hiding him at the power plant.”
“Danu’s blood, Eorla. Are you saying the Guild blew up the power plant?”
She nodded. “There was an emergency evacuation of the human staff a short time ago. It was an excuse to clear the building, of course. That’s when I knew the Guild was moving. They were hoping to capture both of you in the confusion.”
“So, the Consortium is kidnapping me instead,” I said.
Eorla turned to me with amused insult. “The Consortium has no idea I’m here. I’m helping you move across the board, Connor. You are free to get out of this car anytime you please, but do remember you are free to do that because I made it possible.”
Bemused, I shook my head. “Why are you doing this?”
She shrugged. “For the same reason I investigated the Taint. Maeve and Donor are playing a far more dangerous game than I think any of us understand. I truly believe keeping their power in equilibrium is the only thing keeping us all safe.”
“So Maeve gets Vize, and I go on the run from her and the Elven King,” I said.
Eorla chuckled. “You know better than that, Connor. You tried to capture Bergin for years. I doubt Ryan macGoren can. No, it would not surprise me at all if Bergin is sitting in another car somewhere nearby having this same conversation with someone equally interested in the game.”
On Summer Street, the car rocked as people crowded near it. Eorla leaned forward. People filled the street between the concrete barriers on one side and buildings on the other. The car slowed to a crawl. A block ahead, tanks lined the Summer Street bridge as searchlights arced through the sky above them.
“Rand, please send ahead to the checkpoint and see if they can clear a path for us.” She leaned back with a sigh. “You need legal help, Connor. Unless you have truly important allies in the Seelie Court,
you should consider Bastian’s offer.”
“You knew about that?” I asked.
“I know more about what Bastian knows than he will ever realize. His major flaw is a chronic habit of underestimating me,” she said.
“He’s an idiot,” I said.
She laughed. “Yes, I’ve told him so, many times. Do you feel that?”
A faint vibration trembled through the car, a sensation like a large truck or a train passing by. “We’re nowhere near a subway line,” I said.
On the bridge, National Guardsmen ran for a wall of sandbags on the Weird side of the channel. Danann security agents hovered over the command post on the downtown end of the bridge. The vibration increased to a rumble. The crowd shifted direction as nervous people sidetracked into the nearby alley. The solitaries who had been making their way to the bridge turned and began to run.
“Your orders, ma’am?” Rand said.
Eorla watched with confused interest as people streamed by. “This might be happening to get us through. Let’s see if they clear the way.”
The car rocked on its suspension and a fracture appeared in the road. Rand backed away, turning the car amid a sea of people. The car bounced as another large rumble filled the air. With a loud snap, the edge of the bridge shifted on its supports. My teeth rattled as the shaking increased. With a roaring rumble, the bridge buckled, chunks of concrete and stone bursting into the air. Soldiers scrambled as tanks slid off the crumbling pavement. With a slow shudder, the bridge collapsed into the river. Essence shimmered over us like a wave front.
“Troll work,” I said.
“Congress Street Bridge is gone, too,” Rand said. He wheeled the car around in the intersection and turned down A Street.
“Why the hell would trolls destroy the bridges?” I wondered aloud.
Eorla leaned toward her window. “I’m getting confused reports of fighting throughout the neighborhood.”
More National Guardsmen blocked the street two blocks ahead. As we approached, essence-fire cut across our path. Rand hit the brakes and spun the car.
“They are not responding to my sendings, ma’am,” Rand said.
Eorla’s gaze shifted back and forth as she watched the running crowd. “Let’s go to the power plant. Guild staff should be present there,” Eorla said.
“Guild staff just fired on us, Eorla,” I said.
She looked out the rear window. “They’re following orders. I’ll get us through at the plant.”
Eorla’s calm reactions impressed me. I supposed they shouldn’t have. She was an Old One, an eyewitness to more war and danger than I had ever seen or probably ever would. “You’re enjoying this,” I said.
She shook her head. “I don’t enjoy pointless bloodshed, Connor. The Guild will need to be held accountable for this.”
“The Consortium isn’t blameless,” I said.
She nodded. “True. The Consortium has its own crimes to answer for.”
Summer Street became impassable as the crowd changed direction again and streamed back toward the channel. Rand cut through an alley and headed down Old Northern toward the power plant. More fires had sprung up, whether set by angry residents or spread from existing ones, I didn’t know. It would be a long investigation when it was over.
“Ma’am, we have a problem,” Rand said.
Rand brought the car to a slow stop near B Street. Ahead, Old Northern ran into a gauntlet of fire. From the city’s World Trade Center on the left to a series of empty warehouses on the right, flames and smoke filled the air. Fire trucks hung back, but it didn’t look like they were going to make much difference if they got through. “Find a way around it, Rand,” Eorla said.
Glowing embers floated on the air, wind whipping them in a dance of orange lights. Rand backed the car. A single mote of yellow floated down, then dove toward us. It hit the windshield, popped inside, and plunged into my forehead.
D and Northern. Vize here. Need help.
Murdock. The essence faded with the message, but his body signature was unmistakable.
“Wait! Murdock’s up ahead there. We have to go through it,” I said.
Rand stopped the car and looked at Eorla in the rearview mirror.
Eorla’s eyebrows drew together. “We can’t risk it, Connor. We have to go around.”
I stared at her. “You said I’m free to go anytime. If we don’t go through, I will get out and walk through that fire if I have to.”
Her eyes flashed with anger, exposing the temper I knew she had. She shifted in the seat and leaned back. “Rand, I will bond the car. Drive through when I’m finished.”
His expression read disagreement, but he shifted his focus to the fire. Eorla closed her eyes and chanted. Pale blue essence welled out of her and spread through the car. The essence seeped through windows and doors, indifferent to the metal. When it surrounded us from end to end, Rand hit the gas.
We skidded on ice before the wheels caught. The car raced toward the wall of flame and pierced it like an arrow. The car rocked violently in the firestorm, the temperature spiking incredibly fast. Indigo cracks appeared in Eorla’s barrier, but she maintained her chanting. In a funnel of burning air, we shot out of the fire into a clear space. Rand slammed on the brakes to avoid hitting a mass of people on the other side.
Eorla caught her breath. “That wasn’t as bad as I imagined it would be.”
Solitaires and the Dead battled in the street. Essence raked the air, streams and spikes of amber, burgundy, yellow, and white. Green streaks of elf-shot poured in from all sides, and the blue spark of essence bombs flashed and burned. Twisting and turning through the fighting, a sickly green fog with black mottling undulated. The Taint clung to everyone, goading them, boosting their own essences and overwhelming their minds. The malevolent essence glowed in the faces of the Dead, bonded to their body signatures like a second skin.
I flicked an eyebrow up. “I’m afraid to know what you imagined.”
36
A fire truck sat on the sidewalk. Several dozen humans used it as a vantage point—firefighters, police officers, and National Guardsmen. When the solitaries were not attacking the Dead, they kept their distance from the truck but took random shots at it. The humans were not shy about shooting back. Whenever anyone came too close, the firefighters directed high-pressure truck hoses to push them back. That would only last until the water ran out.
“Do you see your friend?” Eorla asked.
The sight lines from the backseat made it difficult to see much of anyone. “I have to get out.”
Behind the car, the firestorm roared with fury. The night sky lit red and orange with the reflected glow. Eorla opened her door and got out.
“What are you doing?” I asked. “The fire’s advancing. Rand, get her out of here.”
Rand got out, but Eorla raised her hand. “I’ll keep the fire back while you find your friend.”
I was about to turn away, when Brokke’s words came back to me. Something was going to happen to her because of me. He was sure of it. “Eorla, you don’t have to do that. Get out of here. I’ll find my own way.”
She smiled. “And I, mine. I want to ensure that you are safe before we part.”
“Rand,” I said.
“Rand”—Eorla interrupted—“answers to me alone. Go, before neither of us survives this.”
She raised her arms and chanted, a fierce neon green essence welling up in her hands. I locked eyes with Rand. “If things go wrong, you make sure she gets out whether I’m back or not. No matter what she says, got it?”
He glanced at Eorla to see if she was looking, then nodded once before I ran from the car. A cluster of the Dead marched up the street as a unit, a mix of fairies and elves shooting their way through the melee. A blaze of red essence flared to my left. Another group was entering the fray. Murdock was leading several officers in. Gerry and Bar Murdock guarded their rear flank. Officers leveled their guns at me, but Gerry held his hand out. “He’s okay,” he s
houted.
I fell in next to him. “What the hell are you guys doing?”
Gerry nodded ahead. “Leo says we have to take down the guy they’re protecting.”
The fire truck showered water across the path of the Dead. The street was slick with wet ice as I pushed my way through the knot of men. At the front, Leo carried guns in both hands. His body essence flared like a crimson shield that covered people to either side of him. “Leo, the solitaries will kill you if you try to take Vize,” I shouted above the noise.
He waved one of his guns. “The Dead guys already have him. Cashel has him.”
I ducked my head around him to see through the crowd. Jark led the Dead fey down the street, knocking aside anyone who got in his way. In the middle of the group, Vize stumbled, his arms bound to his sides with essence bindings. Moira walked behind him, holding the bindings like a leash.
“That’s even worse, Leo. Cashel can knock this whole group down with one hand,” I said.
Determination set in on his face. “Then she’ll have to do that. Those two caused this. My father’s dead because of them.”
Rage poured off him like a vapor. I’d seen that look before on people. It was commitment and anger driven by vengeance, and there was no talking him out of it. I took a deep breath. “Give me a gun,” I said.
I hadn’t used a gun when I worked for the Guild. I hadn’t needed to, but I knew how to use one. Leo handed me a 9mm pistol. He pulled an extra magazine out of his belt and passed it over his shoulder. I checked the slide and sight.
The Dead reached the high-pressure water blast and paused in their march. When they turned to take out the fire truck, they realized we were bearing down on them. Pale essence-fire raked against Murdock’s shield. He bounced on his feet but held his ground. The Dead came closer. Someone behind me fired his gun. The shot spooked the others and more shots rang out. Four or five Dead fell in the front of the group. Panic set in as they recoiled from the shots. The fey weren’t used to guns, especially the Dead who had never seen one before.
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