Undone Deeds (35 page)

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Authors: Mark Del Franco

BOOK: Undone Deeds
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“What does she want with the bowl?” Eagan asked.

“It’s part of a package. She said she had the stone, the sword, and the spear, and only needed the bowl,” I said.

“I no longer sense any of those things about you,” Eagan said.

“I can call them to me. What do they mean in all this?” I said.

“Brokke said to tell you: The Ways seal and unseal. A needle binds as it pierces.” Eorla said.

“He told me to tell you: The bones of the earth are steadfast and eternal,” Eagan said.

“He told me to tell you: Tell me what to do,” said Dylan.

Joe laughed. “No one owns the cow.”

Everyone looked down at him. Joe turned his head this way and that, annoyed and embarrassed at the same time. “What? Brokke said it, not me.”

Their words shifted in my mind. I recognized them, remembered them from somewhere else, somewhere stark and white and dangerous. And beautiful beyond words. I never saw Brokke there, but he heard the same things I did. Something beyond powerful had reached out and touched us both. More doors opened in my mind—memories of the past, decisions made and efforts failed. Convergence wasn’t an event. It was a process, one that had been leading to this moment for over a century.

I bit back a laugh and a sob. “I know what I have to do.”

45
 

Meryl leaned off the side of the bed and rummaged around on the floor. We were in a room in the safe house. Several floors above us, the others worked out the final details of their battle plans, deciding who would do what and the risks involved. Eorla and Eagan had known for a long time that they would have to defend the city. They had plans and contingency plans, and contingency plans for their contingency plans. It was fascinating to watch them work together. They had been secret allies for years, yet protecting their own positions in case…. well, in case I died or Vize died or the world went to hell. After I saw the shape of their strategy, I didn’t need to hang around. In the final analysis, what they did was a distraction—for me and for Maeve. The endgame would be decided by two people, no matter the plans.

Meryl propped herself on the pillows and lit a clove cigarette. As the sweet smell filled the air, I curled on my side next to her. While she smoked, I used one finger to trace small circles in the damp skin of her cleavage. “Thank you for coming,” I said.

“Is that a pun?” she asked.

I poked her in the side, and she chuckled. “My poor taste in humor is finally rubbing off on you,” I said.

“I have to ask you something,” she said.

I propped my head up on my hand. “What?”

She flicked ashes on the floor. “We just had farewell sex, didn’t we?”

I forced myself to grin. “I hope not.”

She glanced at me through half-closed eyes. “Tell me something more wasn’t going on. Tell me you’re not planning on dying.”

“I’m not planning on dying,” I said.

She sighed, staring at the ceiling. “Gods, I know that tone.”

“You’ve heard it before,” I said. I wasn’t asking.

“You’re not planning on it, but it’s likely,” she said.

I stretched out my arm and laid my head on her shoulder. “You remember everything, don’t you? About Faerie. You remember it.”

“It sucks,” she said.

“Did you know who I was when we met here?” I asked.

“No. You don’t look the same. I had planned on avoiding you like the plague this time,” she said.

“Why?”

She stared at the burning ember of her cigarette. “Because I was tired of serving the Wheel of the World. I thought Convergence was an opportunity to be left alone and do what I liked this time. Whenever I’ve gotten involved with you, one of us dies. I was hoping to avoid that this time.”

I trailed my hand down her body. I remembered her from Faerie. She didn’t call herself Meryl then. We weren’t friends. Not enemies, exactly, but she had a knack for screwing up my life. This time had been different.

“The Wheel of the World turns, and we turn with It,” I said.

She snorted. “You don’t believe that anymore.”

No, I didn’t. Maeve was right about one thing. The Wheel of the World turned as It willed, but sometimes we could
nudge it in different directions. “I need you to do me a favor—two, actually.”

She smirked. “Do I have a choice?”

“Absolutely.”

“Shoot.”

“I need to you to get my parents out of the city and as far away as possible,” I said.

She quirked an eyebrow at me. “Okay. And?”

“I want to send you away, too. You’ll be a fail-safe in case I fail. When you get to where you’re going, you can decide whether to come back or not,” I said.

“What if I decide not to?” she asked.

“I’m sending someone else, too. He’s already agreed,” I said.

“Okay,” she said.

“Okay? That’s it? You’re not going to argue and ask details?” I asked.

She put the cigarette out against the wall. “Nope. I’ve spent lifetimes letting the Wheel of the World dictate my choices, and each time, I’ve helped fuck it up. This time, I want to be in it for the ride. I’m going to trust you. I’ve never done that before.”

I rolled on top of her and kissed her. “Don’t die on me, okay?”

“You either,” she said.

I don’t think either of us believed we would have a choice. It was nice to think we would, though. Maybe this time we would. I slipped off the bed and pulled my jeans on. “Bathroom break. I’ll be back,” I said.

She stared at me, bemused. “I know.”

I glanced at her, curious at her tone, but she was checking her nails. As I left the room, a door opened down the hall, and Murdock stepped out. We both stopped short, glancing back and forth as if looking for an escape. “What the hell are you doing here?” I asked.

He closed the door behind him and slipped his hands in his pockets. “I know people on the force who aren’t happy with the side we’re on.”

“Were you one of my secret bodyguards all this time?” I asked.

He frowned. “If there’s one thing that never changes about you, Connor, it is the crazy that comes out of your mouth.”

“Seriously, Leo. Eagan said all my partners knew,” I said.

He shook his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

A strange sense of relief settled over me. “So, all this time we’ve been friends, it’s been because we’re friends?”

“I’m still not getting what you’re talking about, but I’ll say, yeah, we were friends,” he said.

“Were?” I asked.

He studied his feet. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I’ve been wondering if everyone who’s saved my life did it because some vision told them it was necessary,” I said.

He narrowed his eyes at me, a little confusion and a little annoyed. “I’m not even going to respond to that.”

I grinned. “Actually, that’s the perfect response. Thanks. Are you okay?”

“It is what it is.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

Murdock tilted his head. “I know. I still don’t blame you. That doesn’t mean being around you is easy.”

“I get that. I’m glad you’re here, though,” I said.

“And I’m glad you’re alive,” he said.

I held my hand out, and he shook it.

“Let’s go take down a fairy queen,” I said.

46
 

Dawn came according to the clock, but a darkness lay over the city. The sky rippled with curtains of essence, dark indigos and maroons shifting and swirling like a painting by a madman. Ceridwen and I stood on top of the Hancock Tower, sixty stories above the city. The building was the tallest in New England and gave us a view unlike any other. To the east, the ruined Celtic fleet filled the inner harbor, hundreds of broken ships rising and falling on the water’s whitecapped surface. The Weird smoked with fire, dozens of plumes that obscured the horizon. Amid the gloom, essence burned with dazzling brilliance over City Hall Plaza, where Maeve had made her joint headquarters with the human civilian forces.

“Well, this is a bit daunting,” I said.

Joe popped in and circled, trying to control his flight in the buffeting winds. He gave up and settled himself among some utility conduits. “Did I ever tell you about the time I was at a party up here, and we accidentally blew out a bunch of windows in the building?”

“I remember seeing pictures of that when I was a kid,” I said.

He grinned. “Good times.”

From our vantage point, subtle changes rippled through the streets, a shifting of essence signatures. Eorla was moving some of her people around as a distraction while her main force gathered in the tunnels beneath the city. Out by the Tangle, the Dead made their own strategic feints toward downtown. Maeve no doubt had her own sentries in place, but I hoped the key movements would be lost in the mix.

“Everyone’s in place,” Ceridwen said.

“Remember what I said: Don’t be tempted to stay in any one spot. As soon as you use the spear, she will sense it,” I said.

Her smile was grim. “I am not a novice at this business, Grey.”

I grinned at her. “It’s nerves, Ceridwen. Trust me. I know what you’re capable of. I’ve been on the business end of the spear when you’ve had it.”

She pulled her helm on, and the Hunter glamour settled over her. If nothing else, she was going to scare the hell out of whoever saw her. She held out her hand.
“Ithbar,”
she said.

The essence image of the spear in my mind flashed. The spear appeared in her hand and an instant later, Ceridwen was gone. In the distance to the southeast, a brilliant burst lit the sky over Castle Island in Southie. A thunderclap rolled through the air, and the sky above the old fort rippled with an explosion of light. Dark figures dropped through the air, huge unshapely bodies that landed on the island and in the water.

“Ick. Was that supposed to happen?” Joe asked.

“It’s a gamble. If we stop Maeve, we’ll have to deal with the Fomorians running loose. If we don’t stop her, there’s not going to be much left around here anyway,” I said.

On cue, explosions rocked the nearby Thomson Park, the ancient oaks that formed the Boston druid grove went up in flames. Despite the sacred nature of the grove, it could be
used as a power source for Maeve’s archdruids. The damage was regrettable—especially for druids—but necessary for the city’s defense.

“Callin always liked setting things on fire,” Joe said.

I glanced down at him. “You’re strolling down memory lane today.”

“Am I? It’s all the same. Yesterday is today is tomorrow. One war is the same as another a hundred years later,” he said.

The passions of the day meant little to the survivors of tomorrow. We fought over land and power. Win or lose, the grievances remained and festered. Today, Maeve was losing her mind, but I wondered if I was any different. What I intended to do had a smaller chance of success than Maeve’s goal, but a higher chance of saving lives. After the smoke cleared and the bodies were counted, I doubted anyone would care who’d had the better motive.

As hoped, Maeve’s forces reacted to the distractions. A wave of Dananns swept up from the harbor ships and made for Castle Island. A smaller force went south toward the fort. They were not going to like what they found. The Fomorians had decimated the Dananns long ago. They weren’t going to be in a forgiving mood for being locked in their prison for centuries.

From the west side of the roof, another wave of essence blew out in Forest Hills. The vast cemetery there had been the site of another battle. Igniting essence over it would destabilize the area and force Maeve’s forces to the ground. With a blast of wind, Ceridwen appeared back at my side. “As predicted, she retrieved the spear.”

A host of Dananns rose from the Park Plaza Hotel. They gathered in a V-formation, speeding over our heads across the sky. “And there goes the second wave to Forest Hills. Eorla should be in position. Shall we proceed?” Ceridwen asked.

“I still don’t know what you’re planning, Ceridwen. I can’t plan for contingencies if you don’t tell me,” I said.

The glamour obscured her face, but I could hear the amusement
in her voice. “Success at chess is difficult with only a queen, Connor Grey.”

I grinned. I bet myself that Ceridwen could do it. “It’s time then,” I said.

She rose and slipped her hands into the loops on the back of my jumpsuit. With no effort, we soared into the sky, then dropped toward the Common. Ceridwen coasted low, bringing me in from the western side of the park. Maeve had people there, but they were few. Her main forces were in Park Square and heading north toward the Consortium consulate. A few potshots of essence sparkled in the air as we passed, but they seemed to come from people more startled than intent on murder. If only Maeve weren’t so intent.

Ceridwen dropped me next to the pillar on the hill in the Common. Joe swirled in around us, his sword out, his face set.

“You are sure I should leave you?” Ceridwen asked.

“I’m sure. You’ll know when to come back,” I said.

She held her hand out. “May the gods speak favor when you die.”

I shook. “May the Ways open to all your paths.”

Ceridwen glided off through the air toward the Weird. I looked up at Joe. “I need you to leave, Joe. I want to have as few variables as possible for this part.”

“I don’t know what variables are, but if they’re anything like marbles, I think you don’t have enough,” he said.

I pointed into the sky, smiling to soften my request. “Go.”

He pulled a long face, like a chastised child. “You always send me away.”

“And you always come back,” I said. He tapped the flat of his sword against his forehead and winked before vanishing.

I trailed around the pillar, letting my hand rub against the cold granite. The essence that burned in the stone flared at my touch. When I sealed the Way into TirNaNog, the pillar had appeared, the last remnant of the Land of the Dead. I
thought it was only that, a stone pillar testament to my destruction. And it was. But it was something I hadn’t realized or anticipated then. I couldn’t have because I didn’t remember until now.

It was the pillar of TirNaNog, but over time, as the gargoyles gathered around it, as the energies of the blocked Ways built within it, it became something more, something vital. It wasn’t just a stone pillar anymore or the pillar of TirNaNog. It was also the Irminsul of the Teutonic tribes, and the standing stones of Carnac and Salisbury Plain, and all the stone pillars that marked the way to all the realms. It was the ash of the Alfheim, the oak of the Aes Sidhe. The pillar had become a metaphor like so many other things in my life, a metaphor for something that mere words could not contain, a connection to the Wheel of the World unlike any other. The gargoyles knew and had waited, drawn to the promise and threat of its power.

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