When Donor came to Boston, he disguised himself as his own ambassador. When he died in the Guildhouse collapse, the Consortium was left with several conundrums. It would have to admit not only that the Elven King deceived the Seelie Court and human government by posing as Aldred Core, but that he was dead. The deception would jeopardize every agreement the humans had made with the Teutonic fey. A dead Elven King was even more problematic. Donor had no children, so claimants to his throne would materialize. All of this happening at a delicate point in Celtic and Teutonic relations.
“Yes, well, I have issues with that as well,” Eorla said.
I gave her a sharp, confused look. Donor and Eorla had not gotten along. Donor’s father stole the crown from Eorla’s father. “Not that I don’t regret killing someone, but what have I done that you take issue with?”
“Not you. Bastian. He’s running the Consortium after the mess that Donor created. He can’t do that for long without my support. You don’t need to go to him. I can bring him here,” she said.
“You do know how to turn the screws,” I said.
She grinned. “In this case, Bastian screwed himself.”
I don’t know what was funnier, what she said or the look of shock on Rand’s face.
6
My first surprise the next morning was a frantic call from Murdock, surprise because “frantic” was never a word I associated with Leo. His youngest brother, Kevin, had not shown up at the fire station for his shift, and when Leo checked on him, he was in bed nonresponsive. Leo recognized that whatever was going on with his brother was fey-related, and given his family’s less-than-keen approval of the fey, he didn’t want to call Avalon Memorial unless he had to.
The second surprise was that he had also called Briallen ab Gwyll. Briallen was one of the foremost fey healers in the world. She was my old mentor and now friend. She had helped both Leo and me on occasion. I took it as a personal compliment that he no longer had reservations about fey healers.
The Murdock home on K Street reminded me of the house I grew up in. Like Leo, I was raised in South Boston. My druid heritage allowed us to look the same age, but I had an easy ten years on him and those years made a difference. When I was a teenager in Southie, it had been the tight-knit community it was still famous for, but back in the day, such closeness was necessary for survival. Boston hadn’t always been friendly to the fey, but Southie, with its deep Irish roots, had always included us. As the world grew smaller, divisions that had been tolerated or overlooked became barriers. As time went on, Southie became more insular, less welcoming of the fey, while the rest of Boston opened its arms.
I lingered behind Briallen on the front walk as she rang the bell. I hadn’t been in the Murdock house since their father died. I wasn’t welcome. “Maybe I should wait in the car.”
“Leonard said no one else is home but his sister,” she said.
Faith Murdock opened the door. She wore her state police officer uniform. A few months ago, I would have bantered with her, asked if she was coming on or going off shift, whether she was dating. Now, circumstances prevented normal socializing. She glanced at me with professional detachment, a nice change of pace for one of the family, then nodded toward the stairs. “Second floor.”
She stepped back to let us pass, a hand on her right hip, a convenient stance that projected a relaxed yet mildly intimidating manner. It meant her hand wasn’t too far from her gun. I nodded hello without smiling. I didn’t want to push any more buttons than my presence already did.
Leo appeared at the door to one of the bedrooms as we reached the top of the stairs. “He won’t wake up.”
Briallen entered, but I lingered in the hall. The back bedrooms at the end of the stairwell of Boston town houses were long and narrow, the smallest rooms in the house. The décor in Kevin’s room reflected someone whose youth was visible in the rearview mirror—a wrestling poster half-hidden by a woman I vaguely recognized as an actress, Red Sox paraphernalia like any good Boston boy, and a toy ladder truck displayed on a shelf.
Kevin lay on his back on a bed pushed into the corner. His body shield was active, a thick sheath of gold-tinged bronze. The whiff of essence was in the air, the charged scent of ozone. The Murdock siblings were half-druid, but Kevin had inherited enough ability that he registered as a full druid. I had warned Leo that all his siblings would need training to control their abilities. If they didn’t want to use them, that was fine, but they had to learn how to prevent them from activating spontaneously. Abilities reacted to the user’s emotions as much as the will, and all the Murdocks could use a little anger management.
“I tried shaking him, but all that did was move the shield a bit. I yelled at him, too, but he won’t wake up,” Leo said.
Briallen leaned over Kevin, unable to touch him through the shield. She caressed the air over him, her face and hands glowing with faint essence as she examined him. “He’s fine, Leonard. No need to worry. He’s been playing with his abilities.”
“What do you mean?” Leo asked.
Briallen straightened. “He’s sleeping it off. Our bodies are stronger than humans; but we’re not invincible. He’s burned out and needs sleep to recharge himself. He’ll be fine when he wakes up.”
I tried not to smile too much. “Druid teenagers do this all the time, Leo. They find out they can use essence, and they exhaust themselves playing around with it.”
“I didn’t,” he said.
I nodded toward Kevin. “You’re, what, almost fifteen years older than him? Kevin’s still a kid in druid terms. And do I have to remind you of someone who liked to run into walls for the hell of it when he discovered it didn’t hurt him?”
Leo ducked his head, an embarrassed flush coming to his cheeks. “Okay, I get it. You’re sure he’s okay?”
Briallen patted Leo on the shoulder. “Positive. What I don’t like is his using abilities without supervision. There’s a reason druids have formal training. This isn’t stuff to fool around with.”
The relief on Murdock’s face slipped away at the sound of a door’s slamming downstairs. Loud voices carried up the stairwell. “Let’s continue this conversation later,” Murdock said.
Gerry Murdock stomped onto the landing, anger suffusing his face. I didn’t have to guess who had called Gerry. Faith hovered behind him, a slightly guilt-stricken look about her. “Get the hell out of my house,” he shouted.
Leo walked onto the landing. “Calm down, Gerry. They were just leaving.”
“What the hell were you thinking?” Gerry pushed past him, then shoved me aside. I bumped back against the dresser, cologne bottles and coins rattling, but resisted pushing back.
“Watch it,” I said.
Gerry turned from Kevin and leaned in my face. “What did you say?”
I stared down at him. “I said ‘watch it.’”
Briallen stepped next to me. “I don’t believe we’ve met, Officer Murdock. My name is….”
He glared at her. “I know who the hell you are. You’re not welcome here either. Get out.”
Briallen showed no fear, not that I expected her to. People like Gerry—even given his possible druid abilities—were child’s play for her. “I was asked here.”
“Not by me,” he said. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Out.”
“Gerry, knock it off. Kevin wasn’t waking up, so I called for help,” Leo said.
“He’s fine. He just needs to sleep,” Gerry said.
“How do you know that?” Briallen asked.
He frowned at her. “None of your damned business. You people aren’t the only ones who know about this stuff.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
He thrust his arm out toward the hall. “Leave. Now.”
“I asked them here, Gerry. I don’t need your permission to invite people to my home. I live here, too,” Leo said.
“Maybe that needs to change,” Gerry said.
Leo pushed back into the room. “You got something to say?”
/>
Faith grabbed Leo’s arm. “Both of you, stop it.” She pointed at me. “Take your friend outside, now.”
“Mind your business, Faith,” Gerry said.
She stuck her finger in his face. “Shut it. This family is my business. We are not doing this in front of strangers. It’s over.”
Briallen took my hand and pulled me into the hall. She said nothing as she led the way down the stairs and out the door. Leo came out a moment later. “I’m sorry about that.”
Briallen rubbed his arm. “No need. He’s in pain, Leonard.”
“Yeah, well, it has nothing to do with you,” he said.
And everything to do with me. “I shouldn’t have come,” I said.
Exasperated, Leo glanced up at the house. “I didn’t think Faith would rat me out. She usually is the one calming things down.”
“I smelled essence on both of your brothers,” I said.
Briallen nodded. “I did, too. If I’m not mistaken, it was essence-fire residue.”
“Gerry’s right about one thing: We’re not the only ones who know how to teach about abilities. Have they been training with someone?” I asked.
Leo looked down, then away. “I’m not sure. Kev and Gerry have always been pretty tight. They’ve been going out a lot together lately.”
The look said it all. He was sure but didn’t want to think about it. “Maybe you should follow them. If the Guild isn’t involved, it could be anyone,” I said.
He frowned. “I’m not going to put my own family under surveillance, Connor.”
The black car’s driver opened the door for Briallen. She paused with one foot inside the car. “You’re looking at this as a personal matter. It’s not, Leonard. Your abilities are under control, but you have no idea what can happen. I think Kevin, at least, has more abilities. If they’re both using essence-fire, they can be putting themselves in danger, if not everyone else. I don’t want you feeling guilty if something happens.”
“I’ll think about it,” he said.
The expression on Murdock’s face stayed with me the rest of the day, so sad, yet so angry. I knew what it was like to get blindsided by life. It sucked. My problems hadn’t destroyed my entire family, but somehow they had destroyed Murdock’s. I didn’t know what I could do about it, but I hoped I didn’t make it any worse.
7
The driver drove us back to Beacon Hill, where Briallen lived in a town house on Louisburg Square. The address was tony, the neighbors aloof, and Briallen was indifferent to both. Back at the house, she made coffee because she knew I needed a constant stream of caffeine before noon.
We wandered up to the top floor of her house so she could show me the results of some spells she had been working on. Rather, some spells that she hadn’t had any success with. Briallen faced a sealed stone door on the top landing. Arms crossed, she leaned against the banister. “If I weren’t so angry, I’d compliment her on her skills.”
“She,” of course, was Meryl. I stared at the door, trying to find a break in the stone. Meryl had been in a trance state a few weeks back. Nigel Martin, another old mentor, had devised a spell session to bring her out of it with Briallen’s help. I had been dubious. Nigel and I were on less-than-cordial terms these days, and I suspected his motives, with good reason as it turned out. He had attempted to kill Meryl inside Briallen’s sanctum sanctorum. Meryl had had other ideas. She turned the tables on him, came out of her trance, and sealed Nigel inside the room. He was still in there.
“Is he alive?” I asked.
“I think so. I’m attuned to some of the crystals inside. They continue to indicate a body signature,” she said.
“He probably put himself in a deep-trance mode,” I said. Druids can shut their bodies down to a near-death state. From my own training, I knew how to survive several days with minimal sustenance. Several weeks were another matter. On the other hand, Nigel was an archdruid, the highest attainable level of our kind. He had skills only the High Queen’s closest advisors could match.
“He can’t stay in there forever,” she said.
I ran my hand over the surface of the round door. Deep lines were incised in the stone, classic Celtic swirls that represented water and the sun. Here and there, tiny flashes of essence sparkled in the ridges, which meant the tuning spells were still active. Tuning spells helped make the sanctum more conducive to spell work. The stone door met the stone frame in one fused transition. “If anyone can, I’d bet on Nigel.”
“That’s not helping,” she said.
The surface of the door had been bleached white except for the center, which had a dark scorch mark where the focus of Meryl’s essence blast had struck. “The tuning spell is not working in the center.”
“I tried recalibrating,” Briallen said. “The underlying pathways are either damaged, or she left something that is blocking me.”
“Under the circumstances, I doubt she had time to set a block,” I said.
“You’re making excuses because you’re biased,” she said.
I frowned. “So are you. Just because you’re mad at her doesn’t make her the bad guy.”
“That’s easy for you to say. Half the Guild is looking for Nigel, and I’ve got him illegally imprisoned in my attic.”
I scanned the surface one more time, then held my hands up in apology. “I got nothing.”
Briallen let out an angry sigh and walked away. I followed her downstairs to the kitchen. She poured herself a mug of coffee, then gestured with the pot to see if I wanted any. I always wanted coffee. “You must have some kind of fail-safe to open the sanctum.”
“Of course. It was predicated on, you know, having a door that opens,” she said. I chuckled. I couldn’t help myself. Briallen glared at me. “I fail to see the humor in this.”
“It’s nice not to be the subject of your frustration for a change,” I said.
She took firm swipes with a dishcloth at the counter. I watched her without speaking. Briallen cleaned when she was angry. Back when I was her student, I was usually the one forced to clean. When the counter was shining, her face softened, and she sat at the island counter with me. “Do you really think that?”
“Well….”
“You don’t frustrate me, Connor. The world does.”
I snorted. “Tell me about it.”
She touched my hand. “Through all these years, I’ve always wanted the best for you. If I could have saved you pain, I would have.”
“I know. Half the problem is that neither of us can mind our business,” I said.
She laughed. “True. I wish I could give you better answers, but I haven’t been able to scry.”
Briallen had a talent for perceiving the future. Through chants and spells, she used the surface of calm water to catch glimpses of what might be. Her preferred instrument was the fountain pool in her back garden. The process wasn’t exact because so many variables changed from moment to moment. Sometimes, though, outcomes became inevitable, the various potential strands of events converging into a few and sometimes one. Those times were rarely positive and never good.
“Still?” I asked. When major events became so uncertain, no amount of fey ability was able to penetrate the veil of the future. It had happened a few weeks ago when the Elven King attacked the Guildhouse. Once past the crisis point, the ability returned.
“Not since before the Guildhouse. What about Meryl?” she asked.
Meryl’s talent was druidic dreaming. Her ability came on its own, in her sleep. Hers was a True Dreaming. The things she envisioned came to pass. She didn’t always understand the details because the images often came in metaphors that she had to interpret. Sometimes she did. Sometimes she failed.
“I haven’t thought to ask,” I said. Any type of scrying hurt my head enough to cause me to pass out. The reaction came from the dark mass in my mind. It hurt like hell, and I avoided coming in contact with scrying whenever possible. Now that the faith stone was embedded in my skull, I had my full body shiel
d. It kept out the pain as long as I didn’t try scrying myself.
“Could you? I’ve found no one who can scry,” she said.
“Sure.” She didn’t move from the window. “Briallen?” She faced me. “It isn’t good, is it? I mean, really not good.”
She shook her head. “Something as huge as the death of Donor Elfenkonig should have set everything in motion again. It didn’t. Whatever is happening is still happening, Connor. It’s not over, and if Donor’s death was only the beginning, I’m afraid of what comes next. Truly afraid.”
The hair on the back of my neck went up, and I shuddered. Briallen ab Gwyll was not afraid of anything.
“If it’s any consolation, I want that door open more than you do. I need answers that I think Nigel has.”
“So now you’re willing to talk to him?” she asked.
Once I lost my abilities, Nigel abandoned me as a friend. I took it personally. We were no longer on speaking terms. “Question him. He was researching something about me. I want to know what it was.”
She tapped her coffee mug. “Maybe you need to talk to someone about opening that door.”
“I have. She won’t. If I can move past that, I think you can,” I said.
“What do you think he was researching?”
I tapped my forehead. “I know he was interested in the darkness in my head, but I think he knew something about the faith stone.”
“As far as I know, he shared everything he knew about the darkness with me and Gillen Yor. He didn’t have any more answers than we did,” she said.
“After everything that’s happened, you believe that?” I asked.
She sipped her coffee. “I understand your doubts, Connor, but you have to remember that for a long time, we thought we could cure you. I still believe that. Nigel was fully involved with researching your problem. He might not like my methods, but I don’t think either Gillen or I would have missed his hiding something from us. The faith stone is another matter.”
“Brokke told me it had the power to instill faith in people,” I said.
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