She sighed. "Hang on." I heard her drop her phone, papers rustling, the crash of something falling followed by cursing—the vulgar kind—then some typing, some tapping, a couple of beeping tones and, finally, an ear-piercing wave of static.

Meryl got back on the line. "Oh, okay. You're cool. As far as I can tell, your line's clean."

"I need you to do something for me."

She sighed so heavily, I thought I could feel a ripple in the envelope of static. I was starting to get used to the feeling. "You really don't know when to stop, do you?" I grinned. "No. I get mat a lot. I don't need anything that will jeopardize your position. MacDuin was researching books. Two in particular I know aren't available outside the Guildhouse. One is a collection of manuscript fragments of the writings of the druid Cathbad. The omer is something called The Brown Book of Cenchos."

She laughed. "That's a joke, Connor. It's a book of nonsensical spells attributed to the Fomorians. They call it the Brown Book because it's supposedly bound with the tanned skin of a Tuatha de Danann king. Cenchos is the mythical bogeyman of the Sidhe. Legend has it that he twisted the de Dananns he captured and founded theUnseelie Court . He was defeated by being spell-bound into the sea with his followers."

"What makes the spells nonsensical?"

"They mix things up, use herbs and stones in ways that make no sense. Plus, they're written in what is supposedly Fomorian, which apparently sounds like a garbage disposal backing up." "I still need to know if any of its spells have to do with blood, selenite, and pentagrams." < "You're assuming I can read Fomorian."

"I've never underestimated you, Meryl."

She snickered. I read the call numbers off to her. "I'll call your cell phone if I find anything."

"Wait, before you go, I wanted to ask you why mac-Duin's interview about the selenite theft isn't in the file."

"Oh, that's easy. He wasn't here. He was on leave."

"Meryl, he was here. He did these library searches the week of the theft, and if I'm reading these codes right, he entered several storerooms in the Guild basement, including the one where the stones were."

"Hold on." I could hear her typing for several moments, then the sound of a chair being pushed back. Several papers were shuffled around."Nope. I was right. There are several references to preparing reports for when he came back. He was inGermany . He was gone about a month and mad as hell about the stones when he came back."

I got a cold feeling in the pit of my stomach. "Meryl, listen to me carefully. I think macDuin may be involved in the murders. I'm finding several connections, and if he said he was inGermany , I think he's lying. I need that spell info, but don't let anyone know what you're doing. Don't leave a trail of any kind. And whatever you do, don't tell macDuin you found the stones."

"I'll give you this, Grey, you keep life interesting." The shield around my head evaporated as she disconnected.

MacDuin had firmly moved onto my suspect list. Whatever he was up to, he clearly was intimately involved. I cursed to myself for being an idiot. I should have realized weeks ago that I had a security breach in my own apartment. Someone from macDuin's office routinely recharged my protection wards. Any one of them could be a recording stone. Since I didn't have any ability to test whether any of the wards were actually recorders, I couldn't just toss them all. I did need the ones that were actually protecting the place.

In a few minutes, I had a knapsack packed with some clothes, a disc with the Guild files on it, and my cell phone charger. Standing in the middle of die living room, I tried to think of anything else mat should be tossed. I had blabbed out loud to Stinkwort about the stolen files. I copied the case files onto another disc,then deleted them from my hard drive. I knew they were still on the drive like ghosts in the machine, but I didn't have time for a deeper scrub. At least it would slow someone down. The only other necessary item was my leather jacket—I never traveled without it. I grabbed the jacket and hit the street. As I left me building, I found my disability check from the Guild in die mail. I didn't know whether to take it as a sign of irony or farce. In eidier case, I needed the cash. I stopped at the Nameless to cash it. There wasn't a bank or an ATM anywhere in the Weird, butme Nameless took even my personal checks. They wouldn't hesitate to take the Guild's. I grabbed a sandwich while I wasmere and headed out toCongress Street .

I could hole up in some cafe" and plan my course of action, but the Weird was getting a little too chaotic for me to concentrate. People were already filling the side streets with Midsummer revelry. Besides, if anyone came looking for me, mat was where they'd expect me to be.

Meeting Corcan Sidhe formyself seemed as good an idea as any. The Children's Institute in Southie was an easy hike. I took the same basic route I had taken home from Mur-dock's the other day. Once I had passed into me more genteel section of the neighborhood, the only signs of Midsummer celebration were tasteful wreams on the doors. Holly and oak, the emblems of the Wood Kings, graced the doors of both fey and human alike. Everybody likes a fun holiday.

The Children's Institute had started out life in the last century as something called the Idiot Asylum. Depending on how delicate your sensibilities were, you thought that was either quaint or barbaric. Over time, it was abandoned,then reopened years later as the Children's Institute, where once again "mentally challenged" individuals found treatment. Some of its buildings were torn down until what had once taken up the entire block bordered by M and N Streets between Eighth andNinth was now a small cluster of squat ugly brownstone buildings that huddled on theNinth Street side. Neighborhood kids still called it the Idiot Asylum.

I cut between two barracks-like buildings into the remnants of an old quad in front of the administration building. Children played on a pathetic patch of lawn, more crab-grass than turf. The trees and shrubs scattered here and there were bedraggled and sad, like someone had stepped on them, and they had desperately tried to upright themselves. A few kids sat in circles on the ground, while others held hands and played running games I didn't recognize. They looked awkward, everyone a bit off-balance and moving in slow-motion. It took me half a moment to realize that staff members were among them, wearing street clothes instead of the traditional whites. I had almost reached the steps to the main building when I heard a deep, distinctly adult, laugh.

To my left, two people stood off by themselves. A woman who apparently was staff tossed a ball back and forth with a large, ungainly man. The woman had her back to me, her dark hair falling loosely and brushing the collar of a simple white T-shirt on her petite frame. The misshapen elf-like man with her wore a sloppy gray sweatshirt and worn cotton workman's pants. His head was as smooth as an eggshell. I recognized him from the photograph in his mother's living room. Corcan Sidhe ran wildly, clutching clumsily after the ball. A huge grin broke on his face when he caught it and threw it back. The woman laughed as she caught it, turning enough to the side for me to catch a glimpse of her face. I had one of those strange moments when I'm surprised but not surprised at the same time. I strolled over.

"Hello, Shay."

Shay looked at me, the smile on his face dying instantly. He tossed the ball hard over Corcan's head, and the big man lumbered after it. Shay crossed his arms across his chest. "Couldn't this wait until I got home?"

"I didn't know you worked here."

"I volunteer. And you could have asked the goon who's been following me all week." He gestured toward the side street visible between two buildings. Bar Murdock's pasty Honda sat at the curb across the street.

I glanced over at Corcan. He rustled through the bushes like some mysterious beast in a jungle film. I could see the ball on the other side, but he had not figured out where it was yet. "Let's talk." We crossed to a nearby bench and sat down. In the midst of his search, Corcan became distracted by a butterfly and chased after it. "What are you doing here, Shay?"

"I just told you, I volunteer." I could tell by the anger that swept across Shay's face that I was having trouble hiding my skepticism. "What? You think because men pay me to take off my clothes I don't care about things like this?"

"You have to admit, Shay, the hooker with a heart of gold is kind of clich6." He stared intently at me. "Let me ask you something, Connor. If you met me here first and found out what I do at night later, would you think of me as a charity volunteer who occasionally gets paid to satisfy someone's sexual needs or would you think of me simply as a prostitute?" I shrugged."Fine. You're more than a prostitute. I get the point."

"No, you don't. If a civic leader is exposed as a John, would you think of him as simply a John or does he remain a civic leader?"

I sighed and looked over at Corcan. He found the ball and was making his way back to us."A civic leader." "Then you can shove your surprise, and your cliches." He did have a point. People who operate on the fringes of society do get perceived as nothing more than what they do. It's easier to forget that a drug dealer has a family or that a prostitute has a life. It doesn't always make them better people, but it reminds you that they are people.

"I really am sorry about Robin, Shay." And I was. We had hardly met under the most congenial circumstances, but he was just a kid.

Shay's anger subsided a bit. "Thanks. He didn't have many friends. I had him cremated on Saturday."

"Shay, I have to ask you, the day Murdock and I came by to ask Robin to help, you two were arguing. Why?"

Shay shifted uncomfortably on the bench. "We had a complicated relationship. Robin thought I was leaving him."

"Were you?"

"No!" he said forcefully. "He only thought that because ... because there's something wrong with me. I have blackouts. He thinks—thought—I was lyingto .cover up an affair."

"Have you seen a doctor?"

He gave me an exasperated look. "I don't exactly have insurance, Connor. The episodes started the end of last year and have been worse recendy. I'm hoping they'll just go away. I don't have much other choice."

I can imagine how he felt. At least the Guild still picked up the tab on my health care. I couldn't afford it otherwise. "I'm sorry. You have a lot going on."

He shrugged. "Yeah, well, life does that to you."

Corcancame running back. From a few feet away, he tossed the ball, and it dribbled to our feet. Shay picked it up and tossed it again. Corcan didn't turn, but looked at me curiously. "Is this a new friend, Shay-shay?"

Shay took a long moment before deciding to answer him. "Say hello to Connor, Corky." The big man trotted forward and extended a big meaty hand. I fought the desire to pull away, not wanting to touch him. I did shake his hand though, inhaling so sharply my nostrils must have closed. I still couldn't smell a damned thing. "Hello, Connor. Are you taking us to the Castle?" He spoke as though his tongue were too thick for his mouth.

"No, Corky," said Shay. "I told you that's the day after tomorrow.Two more days. Go get the ball, honey." He ambled off like a big bald retriever.

"We're going to watch the Midsummer fireworks fromCastleIsland ," Shay said.

"How long have you known him?"

"Since last summer.He's afraid of most people, but he likes me. The staff thinks it's because I'm male but look female. On a certain level, he relates his own condition to me."

"He looks a lot like the police sketch you helped develop." Shay's chin shrank back in surprise. He watched Corky running around for a moment before answering.

"No. He doesn't. Connor, look at that group of kids over there." He pointed over my shoulder to a small group holding hands and dancing. They all had vaguely similar features that marked them witfi Down's syndrome.

I looked back at Shay."Your point?"

"Now, without looking back, tell me their ages and how they look different from each other." I didn't speak. The urge to look again was compelling.

"Let me help you," said Shay. "At a glance, only three of those kids have Down's, though I'm betting you think they all do. Two of memhave a different genetic physical retardation. Their ages range over fifteen years. One of the two with thick sideburns is actually female. Now, before I knock you over the head, what the hell do you think you're implying about Corky?"

I'll give this to Shay. I had a foot and half in height and more than fifty pounds in weight on him, and the kid still had the balls to threaten me physically. It didn't mean I was amused. "Look, Shay, the only thing keeping you out of jail at this point is the fact that I haven't put in a call to Murdock, so knock off the attitude. Now, tell me about the pentagrams." He crossed his arms again and threw himself back against the bench.

He looked at me suspiciously."Corky's pentagrams? They're for meditation." He considered for a moment and nodded. "I added them one at a time. The first one was about a month ago." A chalky pallor swept over his face."Oh my God, Connor! It's not what you think."

"What do I think?"

"Corky wouldn't hurt anyone. I just showed him how to calm himself when he was upset. I don't have any fey ability—I couldn't even get aromatherapy to work on Robin. Corky doesn't even go out at night!

He's afraid of the dark!"

"You might have activated something, Shay. Cross-species children have all kinds of mutations. You might not have been calming him."

Shay's hands flew to his mouth as tears sprang to his eyes. "No. It can't be. Tell me Robin isn't dead because of me!"

I couldn't help myself. I reached out and put my hand on his shoulder to reassure him. "I'm not going to lie to you, Shay. I don't know."

"What's the matter, Shay-shay?' Corky said, popping up in front of us. His face looked stricken. Shay brushed the tears off his own face. "It's noming, Corky. Something got in my eyes." The big man grabbed his hand. "Let's go to the Castle. That will make your eyes better." Shay forced himself to smile."Thursday. We'll go then. Okay, Cork?" Corky pouted. "Okay."

He let Corky pull him off the bench, and as Corky led him away, Shay looked back at me, hurt and confusion flickering in his eyes. Back onNinth Street , I slipped into a cab and asked the driver to take me to Avalon Memorial. Fresh cash in my pocket tended to make me lazy. I had to see Gillen Yor. If anyone knew the effects a mixed essence had on spells, he would. I had to agree with Shay, though. Something as simple as meditation could not possibly go that haywire.

I stared unseeingly out me window. If he hadn't already, I'm sure Murdock's brother Bar would tell him I was at the Institute. He was going to want to know why. With another link to Shay, Murdock would lock him up in a second. He would have every reason to do it. I would have in his shoes. Shay's continuing involvement had to be more than coincidence. He'd attempted things he did not have the ability to perform. Given his blackouts, he might not even have known what the hell he was doing. I had to wonder if the whole mess was a result of an accident on his part, an accident he didn't even know he had caused. But I couldn't find any convincing evidence. The sad little room he shared with Robin held no trace of powers being worked. As Shay admitted, even the pathetic parlor tricks he had tried with wards were useless.

I felt a light touch on my forehead, like someone had placed a cool fingertip just above the bridge of my nose. If anyone had been there to see, they would not have noticed any reaction on my part, so subtle was the sensation. I was about to receive a sending, a true sending that no glow bee could hope to imitate. From experience, only one person contacted me so gently. As the cab made its way over theBroadwayBridge , Briallen's voice filled my head with sound.

/ need to see you immediately.

I waited to see if there was more, but the cool feeling slipped away. Sendings were wonderfully convenient and precise, but they worked best if kept simple. I tapped on the scarred plastic partition and changed my destination. As I got out onLouisburg Square , I tipped the driver generously to make up for the loss of the longer fare to Avalon Memorial. I didn't knock. The house felt empty. I paused by the newel post at the foot of the stairs, my skin alive with tension. Just as I set foot on the first step, I heard Briallen call from the back of the house.

With a sigh of relief, I relaxed and made my way through the kitchen to the back door. Briallen sat on the edge of her fountain, wearing a black swaddle of fabric that was too shapeless to call a dress. The fountain's spray was off, giving the backyard an uncommon stillness. Briallen lifted her head and smiled when she saw me, reaching out a beckoning hand.

"That was fast," she said.

"I was halfway here."

I took her hand and sat next to her. She looked much better than the last time I saw her. Placing her hands on my head, she looked directly into my face. I felt the usual pressure. As she released me, her brow creased for just a moment, and she touched me once more briefly.

"What is it?"

She shook her head. "I thought I sensed something, but it's gone now. The darkness felt, I don't know, smoother."

"I did the sun invocation with Joe yesterday. It made the headache go away for a while."

"Yes, he told me."

I raised an eyebrow. "And what else did he tell you?"

'That you're investigating blood rituals and won't listen to reason." I took a deep breath and released it slowly. "I didn't come here for a lecture."

"You're not getting one."

"Oh. Good. Then maybe you can help me. What do you know about The Brown Book ofCenchosT

She wrinkled her nose. "Not that old thing."

"Why would macDuin be interested in it?"

"I don't know. Why do people collect clown figurines?"

"Briallen, I'm serious." She shrugged. "Connor, it's apocryphal. It makes no sense. There are spells in it that claim to do things they would never do."

"Like maybe something that looks like a meditation ritual can actually send someone on a murderous rampage?"

"Well... not that clear-cut. It's more like explaining gravity by denying its existence." I thought about it. "I don't get it."

She nodded."Exactly."

"Okay, let me take it from a different angle. How could a simple meditation ritual have the opposite effect?"

"I don't know. Maybe you need to see something." She twisted slightly on the edge of the fountain and waved her hand gently above the water as though she were caressing it.

"Briallen, scrying splits my head open."

"Yes, yes, I know. I'll take care of it."

She held her other hand up toward me and began to chant. My body shields activated, not from an instinctual response to danger but merely from her command. I shivered. No one had ever done that to me before. With an ache of remembrance, I felt my fragmentary shields pulse with life again as their edges flowed out to meet each other. Seamlessly, they joined over the entire surface of my body as they oncehad, an invisible layer of armor to defend against unwarranted intrusions. It caused me no pain since it was not of my doing. Except for the small part of my own essence in the fragments, the protections were all of Briallen's power.

All the while, Briallen continued setting upthe scry . Even when you were fey and could do things humans couldn't, watching Briallen work was both awe-inspiring and humbling. She needed no accoutrements, only the raw power of her concentration and her knowledge of invocations. Even as she worked my shields, her hand smoothed the water of the fountain to an unnatural stillness. Once I was fully warded, the cadence of her chant shifted into an older Gaelic, its rough sounds oddly soothing from her lips. She spread bom hands over the water. The surface reflected the dull haze of the sky. The image shimmered jarringly as though someone had tapped the edge of the fountain. A curling wisp of gray smoke rippled on the edge, eating at the reflection of the sky until the entire visual surface pulsed with shadows of mists just beneath the still water's surface. With hands spread wide, Briallen did not move at all, her taut form leaning forward. Her eyes shone whitely as she increased the urgency of the chant. Something seemed to roll sensuously beneath the surface, pale green, men silver and white. I let my gaze flicker to Briallen. Beads of sweat clung to her face. She was pushing hard at the invocation. Even someone with rudimentary ability would have lifted the veil of smoke by then and caught a glimpse of the future. The real skill came in the clarity of the vision. Some could only get the most obscure hints and symbols, while someone like Briallen could see events almost like watching a movie. But after over twenty minutes of intense chanting, still nothing happened. Something was seriously wrong. A thick unsettling blot of darkness formed in the middle of the fountain. It deepened and spread outward like a giant pupil. Nothing appeared in the inky depths. The blackness enveloped the whole of the fountain,a darkness so deep and complete that not even our reflections marred its surface. With a gasp of frustration, Briallen pulled herself up and away. She stood with her head bowed, one hand to her face, the other hovering over me like a benediction.

"Briallen..."

She lifted her head. "Go inside. I need to close it."

There was no discussion in her voice. I hurried into the kitchen, uneasiness creeping into my gut. As I stepped inside, I could feel her release the protections on me. I flinched at the sudden stab of pain in my forehead and moved away from the door. The pain lessened, but not much. Scrying had the worst effect of anything on me. I kept moving back into the house until I was in the foyer. I could still feel a hot needle-like pinging, but I refused to go out into the street. I sat on the bottom step of the stairs and held my head, trying to will away the pain. After an eternity, it subsided, and I looked up to see Briallen standing over me. She had a solemn, yet wild, look on her face. Her skin was very pale and damp, and her short hair hung in wet strands.

"You're soaked."

"It was necessary. Let's go up." She passed me smoothly onto the stairs, and I followed her into the sitting room on the second floor. She stood before the small blue flames on the hearth, her back straight and arms at her sides. "It's been like that for days," she said without turning.

"What is it?"

She moved to an armchair and sat. "That's the million-dollar question. The Queen asked me to answer it."

"Maeve?" I couldn't help the surprise in my voice.

"Of course, Maeve.She called me this morning."

"She called you?On the phone?"

She frowned. "Yes, on the phone. What's wrong with you?"

I laughed. "I just find it incredibly funny that the High Queen of Tara called you on the phone."

"What did you want her to do, send smoke signals? We've known each other for years. She's calling everyone she can."

I lowered myself into the armchair opposite her. "What's wrong?" She shifted the damp folds of her dress away from her knees. "The future is closed. No one's been able to pierce the veil.A turning point in time. What we do not know, what we cannot see, we cannot try to change. It must play itself out the way it will."

I'd never heard of the future being "closed" before. "It's a bad thing?" Briallen looked down into the flames. "That's not the question. It's a question of understanding. We have to prepare, if we can, for what may come. The last time something like this occurred, Convergence happened."

I fell back in the chair, too stunned to say anything. "Are you kidding me? How long has this been going on?"

"I've been hearing rumor of strange happenings for weeks. It's why I haven't been as helpful to you as I could have been."

I leaned forward in the chair. "Don't be ridiculous, Briallen. I'm not that self-involved. I may be bitching about the lack of attention the Guild is giving these murders, but I think you might be a little better recognizing priorities than they are. What do you need me to do?" She moved her hand from beneath her robe and held out a dagger in an old leather sheath bound with thongs of leather. "I need you to stay alive."

I took the dagger from her. Finely wrought silver wound about the pommel, and the handguards were plated in gold. The whole of it was encrusted with fine rubies and crystals and a large emerald at the base of the hilt. 1 slid the blade slightly from the sheath. It was double-edged, inscribed with tiny runes, and shone with new silver brightness. The sheath itself was stamped with more runes and symbols and blotched witii stains that I just knew were blood. It weighed more than I would have guessed, but still had a nice balance in the hand. And die damned little thing hummed with power.

"I can't accept this, Briallen."

"You must. What's coming is cataclysmic, Connor. I won't have you unprotected." "But this must be worth a fortune!"

She shrugged. "What's a fortune weighed against a life? It's old, I'll grant you. Several people have possessed it. Now you will."

"I'll take it on one condition."

I meant it conversationally, just as a preface, really, but Briallen sat very still, like she was considering whether she would accept a condition. "What?"

"That you'll take it back when I don't need it anymore."

A mysterious look passed over her face, at once surprised and resigned. "I'll accept that. Put it on." I gave her an odd look as I removed my right boot. Briallen can be downright pushy sometimes, but it never paid to disobey. I lashed the sheath around my ankle and put the boot back on. After a few wiggling adjustments, I felt I could live with it. I had to take my regular knife out of its boot sheath, though, and slip it bare into my left boot. Not the safest position, but I would figure it out later.

"Use it with care," she said. "It has some powerful wards, and I've put a few of my own niceties on it, too."

"I will. So what exactly does Maeve want you to do?"

"Learn what lean. Scrying obviously isn't working. I'm going to try some dream prophecy." Not surprised, I nodded.Imbas forosnai. The ancient ritual of dream and prophecy was the only logical course when scrying didn't work. Now I knew why Briallen had summoned me. She would be in a deep trance for days. And she would be vulnerable. "You want me to stand guard while you sleep."

"Yes and no. I don't know what may happen, but I doubt you're strong enough to stop it. There are very few people who could protect me better than myself, and they're all busy working on this right now. I need you to awaken me."

"So I'm useful because I'm powerless."

She rolled her eyes. "You're useful because no one would expect I would use you. Unexpectedness has its own power. No one must know about you. I haven't even told Maeve." Maeve, the Bitch of Tara, Ice Queen and Iron Ruler. Just as many people fear her as love her. Enclosed in a girdle of mist on the hill of Tara inIreland , no one passes into her keep—or her presence—without consent. And she just phones up friends of mine when she needs help. "What's she like?" Briallen steepled her hands at her lips."Strong.Of all the queens, I think she's probably the most beautiful, but I'm sure others would have their own opinion. Her hair is like ebony, and her skin is alabaster. She can be as cold as drawn steel and never lets her guard down. People curse her, but the fey are lucky she was the ascendant queen when Convergence happened. This world would have descended into chaos without her leadership. She may be harsh, but she's kept things from falling apart."

"If only she cared about all the fey as much as the monarchy," I said. Briallen shrugged. "That's a matter of opinion. If she can finally defuse the German situation and end die Teutonic-Seelie stalemate, the entire world will be better off. Humans may fear nuclear weapons, but I'm more worried about an all-out fey war. Suffice it to say she's got a lot on her plate." In her usual manner, she stood and walked out of the room. In the outer hall, I found her going upstairs. I followed her firm tread to the third floor, where the guest bedrooms were located. Surprisingly, she led me up to the fourth floor. I knew she slept up there, but had never seen it. When I was a kid and came to the house for lessons, I would sneak away to explore when she was distracted by conversation with someone. The staircase beyond the third floor was blocked by wards, and I couldn't pass. It didn't stop me from trying, but I never got through. Here I was just sailing right along. The fourth floor landing had four closed doors. To my astonishment, Briallen kept going up to the fifth floor. She waited for me on the landing.

The top floor of the house had wooden doors at either end, both closed. Incongruously, a great stone door set in a stone arch stood in the center of the landing. Briallen laid her hand on the door. "You're about to see something I rarely show anyone."

She pushed, and the door opened soundlessly. A dim white glow came from wiuiin. Inside was an oval room, its walls paved with slate and curving inward toward the center of the ceiling. Where the tiles met, stones of all kinds glittered in the crevices. Onyx jammed in next to crystals of pink and yellow and blue. Bloodstones lined the baseboards, along with quartz of all kinds mixed in with opals and fire-stones. Even the floor had a fortune in precious stones, including what could only be true rubies, emeralds, and diamonds. I couldn't possibly catalog them all. The dominant stones were selenite, other moonstones, and sapphire for invoking the powers of the night, only fitting for a druid daughter of the Moon. In the center of the room stood the lone piece of furniture, a white granite slab of a table just the right length for Briallen to stretch out on if she chose. A preternatural light glowed from various places, reflecting back and forth in a myriad of color.

Druids are notoriously guarded about their private sanctums. The one I had before I lost my abilities was much simpler, but I had still shown it to only a handful of people. "I'm honored," I said.

"I've already keyed the door to your essence. Once I close it, only you can open it from the outside. If I'm not out in three days, come get me. With any luck, I'll have figured this all out." She reached out and hugged me. As I held her, she gripped hard before releasing me. The seriousness of the situation was sinking in. Briallen was always physically and emotionally demonstrative. But that one hard squeeze told me she was scared. She stepped back into the room with a grim smile on her face. The door closed, meeting the jamb with a soft thump that sounded like the sealing of a tomb. 15

I tried calling Gillen Yor several times the next morning but kept getting his answering service. Finally, by midafternoon, I got a real person on the line who informed me that Gillen was unavailable until further notice. As I turned off my phone, I glanced up at the ceiling as though I could see through it to where Briallen lay in deep meditation. I knew she would have helped the queen with just about anything if asked. But if Maeve had gotten Gillen to investigate as well, and he had agreed, it truly was serious. Waking up in the guest room in Briallen's house had felt like coming home. When my abilities kicked in at twelve, they kicked in hard. I'd spent many weekends inLouisburg Square away from my family. At first it was exciting learning things most kids only dream about. It became frustrating when I began to realize how hard it was going to be. Occasionally, it got lonely—adolescent angst coupled with the stigma of truly being different. The best part was making Briallen smile. Most times I did it with a joke, but often enough it was because I did something right. I began to strive for that. I let my fingers trail over the bindings of books in Bri-allen's study, looking for something, anything, to find a way past my dead end. Should I make Shay remove the pentagrams or not? Were they working as part of a meditation exercise or weren't they? I tried randomly pulling books off the shelves in the hope that something would literally fall into my lap, but fate didn't want to play the game. I was beginning to think my best bet might be a coin toss.

My cell phone rang. I picked up, and traffic noises blared in my ear.

"I'm at a pay phone across from the Guildhouse. I didn't want to use any lines inside. They're doing spell sweeps," Meryl said. "Listen, I've been studying the books you asked about the other day. I think I found something a little freaky. It's a spell of binding that unbinds. If I'm reading it right, it's about old powers. The real old ones. Like lock-them-up-and-throw-away-the-key old ones." I said a silent thank-you to whoever might be listening.

"Can you meet me at the bandstand on the Common in five minutes?"

"Got it."She disconnected.

I went back to the guest room to put on my boots. Bri-allen's dagger had already started feeling comfortable on my ankle, but I still didn't like being without my old knife. Until I either bought new boots with a left foot sheath or made one of my own, I decided to leave my old blade behind. It wouldn't help if I managed to stab myself in the foot. I left the jacket, too. It was damned hot, and at least at Briallen's I wouldn't worry about it getting stolen.

I paused in the foyer. Briallen lay in a trance trying to find the cause of a blackout on the future, the kind of blackout that had happened when Convergence occurred. Meryl had found a Fomorian spell that unbound old powers with blood and pentagrams. When old powers were spellbound, it was usually behind dimensional barriers, the same kind of barrier that had been pierced during Convergence. A chill ran up my spine, and I ran up the stairs again. I had a spell that would bring about a cataclysm taken from a book that macDuin had read. I also had a series of ritual murders that fit the spell and that macDuin was trying to suppress. And I had an unexplained connection between macDuin and Corcan Sidhe. If the spell succeeded, it could create a world like old Faerie with the remaining humans as subjects—just like the elves and their fairy sympathizers wanted during World War II. Like macDuin wanted. The connections had to mean one thing. MacDuin was somehow using Corcan Sidhe to pierce a veil into the Fomorian prison and free the most powerful enemy of the Celtic fey. All hell would break loose on the world again. Only this time an enemy would be unleashed that no one had fought in millennia. Humans would have little chance of survival. Just the fey would, leaving a world dominated by the fey. MacDuin had set it all in motion again.

As I was about to press my hand against the door of Briallen's sanctum to wake her, I hesitated. She had scoffed at the possibility of a Fomorian spell. If I were wrong, I could be setting in motion the cataclysm she feared by disturbing her. If I were right, I could be facing certain doom by not waking her. I rushed back down the stairs. I needed the spell. If it did what Meryl thought it would, Briallen would see it, too. It would be the proof I needed to justify interrupting Maeve's request. I locked the front door as I left. Briallen might have the house warded to the teeth, but it made me feel better. My cell rang again.

"I know, I'm coming," I said, thinking it was Meryl.

A static hollow sound echoed in my ear. For a moment I thought Meryl had called back with her silencing spell.

"This is Gerda Alfheim," a woman's voice said. Even through the bad connection, it had that continental smooth accent you hear in old movies, with just a touch of Nordic to it. They had taken solong, I had given up on the Germans. "We have a bad connection. Please hold on." I had reached the end ofWalnut Street where it dead-ended on Beacon. Loud, heavy traffic moved in both directions. When a brief opening appeared, I rushed across the street to get to the relative quiet of Boston Common.

"You were calling about my son Gethin. Is he all right?" Gerda asked.

"He's here? In the States, I mean?"

"Well, yes. He's inBoston . I thought that was why you were calling." I skipped down the short flight of stairs into the Common. I held my hand over the speaker of the phone to hearbetter . Most people cover their open ear to block out intruding noise, not realizing the speaker picking up ambient sound causes more of a hearing problem. I stood looking back and forth for an easy path across the Common, but there wasn't one, so I cut across the grass. "How long has he been here?"

"A few months this time.I was getting concerned because I haven't received a check-in call. What's this about?"

"I was doing some research, and your name came up. I really don't know anything about your son except that he is cross-species."

There was a long pause. "That's some rather personal research." Her voice had gone cold. I could feel that I needed to tread carefully, or I would lose her. "We have a situation here I hope you can help me with. Has he ever been violent?" Again there was silence. The moment dragged on. "I am not going to say another word until you tell me what this is about."

"I'm consulting on a criminal case that theBoston Guild-house is working on." It wasn't quite true, but not quite false. She didn't need to know that.

"The Guild?"Her voice was tinged with suspicion now. "They have primary control of the case. There've been a number of fey-on-fey murders."

Again there was silence. She did not speak for several moments. "Hello?" I said.

"Keep Lorcan macDuin away from my son, Mr. Grey."

Stunned, I skidded to a halt. I was on top of the hill where I had witnessed Tansy's funeral. The bandstand sat downslope a few hundred yards away. Meryl hadn't shown up yet. "How do you know Lorcan macDuin?"

"He's at the Guildhouse there, isn't he? He has an unnatural attraction to Gethin. He even came toGermany last year to contact him. You asked if my son were ever violent. The only time I saw Gethin upset was because of Lorcan macDuin. Please, you must keep him away from him."

"I don't understand. Why did you let him come toBoston if you had concerns about macDuin?"

"What?"

"I said why did Gethin come toBoston ?"

"I can't hear you, Mr. Grey," she said. A wave of static crackled in the phone. I spun wildly in a circle hoping the signal problem was on my end. The static grew louder. The call went dead.

"Damn," I said. I jabbed my finger at the phone to turn it off. The caller ID didn't list a return number. I paced across the hilltop, hoping she would call back. I kept glancing over to the bandstand. Meryl hadn't appeared yet. A line of trees obscured the view to the intersection she would be coming from. My body shields came up and an instant later I felt the tingle of a spell across my skin. Before I could move my head more than a couple of inches, it froze in place. The rest of the spell draped over me like a layer of cool static that might have been refreshing under different circumstances. Someone laughed just behind me. Footsteps came closer and stopped beyond my peripheral vision. A hand snaked around and plucked the phone from my hand. An elf walked in front of me. He had a cocky grin on his face as he dialed my phone. Even though it had been dark, I recognized him as one of the guys who had jumped me. The one I had bit. He wasn't chanting, so I knew his spellcasting buddy must be behind me.

"We've got him," he said into my phone. He stared at me while he listened, nodded once, and disconnected. He lowered the antenna and slipped the phone into his pocket. With a smirk, he stood beside me and clasped the elbow of my still-bent arm. I felt myself rise an inch or two above the ground. He propelled me forward, walking nonchalantly like we were out for a Sunday stroll. I tried to open my mouth to yell, but they had me in a pretty tight binding. We moved down the hill toward the city information booth and away from the bandstand. Fighting against the resistance, I managed to move my head to the right, but not far enough to see if Meryl was riding to the rescue. Sweat broke out on my forehead from the effort. We paused on the foot of the hill where a main path through the Common ran, waiting while a young couple walked past, oblivious to the sight of a tall man frozen in position with an elf holding his arm. I felt utterly ridiculous.

The elf pressed me forward, and we proceeded around the information booth. People milled all around us, but absolutely no one gave us a second look. As we neared the curb on theTremont Street side of the Common, the elf compan-ionably put his arm across my shoulders. A black Lincoln Town Car with black-out windows sat illegally parked, a Guild permit discreedy displayed on the rear windshield. Someone came up behind me, muttering. The other elf, the spellcaster, had made his appearance. He opened the rear door of the car, and before I knew what was happening, they grabbed my shoulders and pitched me headfirst inside. The door slammed roughly against my feet, launching me forward. I banged my head against the opposite door.

My nose pressed against the leather upholstery. Without anyone holding me, I was able to shift my body weight and roll over. I ended up halfway onto the floor, but at least I was faceup. The front doors opened one after the other, and my abductors sat down. I could see the spellcaster. He wore sunglasses again, but I could feel his eyes on me as he kept muttering in German. The car started and began moving. Trees passed through my line of sight through the sunroof. We paused at a traffic light. The car had started rolling again when a sharp jolt rocked us. The spellcaster spun away from me in surprise. It took a long, slow moment for the binding to fade. I began to sit up as a second impact hit the car, and I fell back against the seat. The elves yelled at each other, but I couldn't make sense of what they were saying. As I grabbed at the door handle, the spellcaster turned and shouted. A ball of light burst from his hand and hit me squarely in the chest. I hunched forward, gasping for breath, and felt the binding spell descend on me again. The car sped up, pressing me into the seat. A third impact struck, but it felt only like a strong wind buffeting the car compared to me first two.

I could see where we were going now. We careened through traffic onTremont Street , not bothering to wait for the light at Boylston. The Guildhouse loomed up on the right in the next block, and we circled around to die front. The dragon over the main entrance seemed to be laughing at me frozen in the backseat. We made the next light legally. As we entered the intersection, the driver made a wild right turn back around the other side of the Guildhouse, then another turn down the access alley on Boylston. A garage door opened as we approached, and the car swept under it with inches to spare. An old dwarf woman in the attendant's booth gave a desultory wave as the car passed. The garage seemed to go on interminably. We circled down into the depths of the building. As with so much of the Guildhouse, it was hard to tell if I were being brought through a series of illusions or if the space were actually i this vast. We came down a ramp that ended in a small area t barely big enough for three cars.

I heard the pop of the trunk, and the driver got out. I

groanedinwardly. There's nothing I hate more than being

cartedaround in the trunk of a car. It's never comfortable.

\. The driver walked out of sight for a moment. I could hear

[¦ rummaging sounds behind me in the trunk. The back door

I opened, and he shuffled in on his knees. With quick move jments, he wrapped duct tape around me, binding my arms I and ankles.The spellcaster stopped chanting. Before the

¦binding could wear off again, the driver backed out of the car.

The spellcaster coughed a couple of times. "I need some

water."

I sat still as the spell slipped off me. The driver stood several feet away from the car. I eyed the spellcaster as he got out. He was the one I had to worry about. Even though his binding ability wasn't a very strong one, he had enough to stop me. If I could incapacitate him, I might have a chance against the driver. I had no delusion that that chance was anything other man extremely small.

"Move out of the car slowly," the driver said. I swung my legs out and stood. It wasn't the side of the car I wanted to be on. The spellcaster came around to our side, closing the trunk as he passed it. So, I wasn't going for a ride.

"We can do this the hard way or the easy way," the spellcaster said. "Either we carry you with no problems, or we beat you up the side of the head until you pass out, and then we carry you." I smiled at him. "What's the matter?All out of juice?" The driver punched me in the stomach. I wasn't ready for it and keeled over like anembarrassed sack of rocks.So much for taking either of them out.

"Okay. Okay. I won't struggle." It was the driver's turn to chant. I felt my weight dissipate as I almost left the floor. The two elves stood on either side of me and grabbed my arms. I floated up with little effort. They guided me to an old wooden door. "You guys make a great team. I guess you have to, considering neithei one of you can stand on your own."

"We could drag you if you prefer," said the driver. He opened the door with his free hand. I could feel the slighl tingle of a ward stone as we passed into a long corridor.Il had the same look as the old basement corridors, only long disused. Dust and debris lay thickly along the edges and a single, old-style wall torch flickered orange halfway down. Just past the torch, we stopped at an iron door. The driver opened a small viewing panel and peered into blackness. He gave no indication what he was looking for. He closed the panel and opened the door.

As if on cue, they dropped me to the floor. The driver patted me down. His hands seemed to insist on avoiding my right boot. For a moment, I thought he might be an ally after all. But more likely, Briallen had a warding spell on the dagger she gave me. With his own knife, he sliced some of the duct tape to loosen it. They shoved me inside the dark room and closed me in.

The little square panel opened. "Let me know when you've got the tape off," the driver said. I sneezed. The room had a rank odor of rot and urine. It was sobad, I could smell it even through my sinus congestion. I flexed my arms and heard the gratifying rip of the tape. After several more tries, I managed to free my right hand and remove the rest along with what felt like most of the hair from my arms. The tape around my legs gave way more easily.

"Done," I called.

"Put out your hand," said the driver.

With not a little reluctance, I put my hand through the opening expecting it to be slapped, followed by giggles. Instead, he pressed a kitchen match into my palm. The beam of a flashlight blinded me, and I stepped back.

"You get the one match. Don't ask for another." e nashlight beam illuminated a small torch a few feet away on the side wall. I felt the wall to make sure it was dry,then raked the match head against it. It flared and before it went out I touched it to the torch. A feeble yellow flame flickered up. I turned back to the door. He slammed the panel closed. I could hear their muffled voices through the door as they settled in to watch.

I took in my surroundings. It was an old storeroom of some kind, forgotten in the depths of the building. A small space near the door remained clear, but the rest was a jumble of boxes and crates and old furniture.And a bad smell. I hoped nothing—or no one—had died. That wouldn't be a very good omen. A coolness permeated the air that the torch would never warm. I knew I should have worn my jacket. A soft sound rustled in the pile of junk. Rats. On top of everything else, I had to contend with rats. At least I understood their motives.

I paced in the dim silence, trying to understand how I ended up in a dark dungeon on a summer's day. I had run too late and hidden too obviously. I wondered if Keeva knew about the recording stone in my apartment, or if she had unknowingly been charging it up for macDuin all this time. I couldn't believe even she would stoop so low. I didn't get it. If she was working against me, why had she bothered saving my ass the last time the two elf goons came around?

I resisted the urge to try the door. Not even these guys would be dumb enough to leave the door unlocked. I had to wait and see what macDuin had planned for me. I just hoped I didn't wait too long. It wasn't exactly cold in the storeroom, but the creeping damp air was already getting uncomfortable. I didn't relish the idea of rummaging around in the pile of junk to find something smelly but warm to wrap myself in.

The fact that Gerda Alfheim's son Gethin was inBoston intrigued me. What were the odds?Too high to be more than coincidence. Was he lured here? I wondered. I thought of Corcan Sidhe, half-elf and half-fairy, just like Gerda's kid. All the other cross-species children had died except these two. Dealle Sidhe had old German connections; that much was clear. Could Gerda have sent Gethin to her?

Fostering was far from unusual among the fey. Who better to foster a mentally handicapped child than someone who had one? And macDuin was aware of both of them.

Footsteps sounded out in the corridor, and my guards stopped talking. The gait was long and firm. I didn't need any special ability to recognize it. The bolt on the outside was thrown, and the door opened. MacDuin stood in the doorway flanked by his annoyingly smirky minions. We faced each other silently. He wore his usual black suit, but here within the confines of the Guildhouse, or maybe just for my benefit, he made no attempt to hide his wings behinda glamour . They rippled up high behind him, their translucent texture reflecting gold and silver pinpoints of light from the torches.

I tried my best to look unimpressed. It wasn't hard. I'd seen it before. "Care to explain why you had me kidnapped, Lorcan?"

He merely smiled. "I came to be sure you were secured. You are fey. I can always say I was holding you for questioning in a case."

"Even the commissioner wouldn't believe that."

If anything, his smile broadened. "I wouldn't expect him to." That gave me a cold feeling. "What's that supposed to mean?" He arched a languid eyebrow. "Let's just say that the commissioner and I have come to an agreement, and you are not part of it."

That really didn't sound good. I decided to bluff. "People are going to be looking for me, and you're the first place they'll go. I was on the phone when your goons grabbed me."

"He's lying. He didn't have time to say anything," said the elfwho had driven the car. He leaned in toward me with a sneer. "He didn't even know what hit him."

I rolled my eyes toward him. "Don't make me bite you again." A touch of real amusement came to Lorcan's smile. "You should have stayed out of this, Connor." He turned to the spellcaster. "Keep him here for now. He will prove useful in a day or two." He began to walk away.

"I know aboutGermany ."

Lorcan put a hand up to stop the door. He gave me a measuring look. "What do you know aboutGermany ?"

I had to bluff him. I didn't know if he was lying about having been there. "I know what you did."

"Meaningless. Many people knew I was there last fall." He turned his back and gestured for the driver to close the door.

"I know about Gerda Alfheim."

That got him. He froze in place for a long moment before facing me. With a placid stare, he took several more moments as he seemed to digest what I said. "That does complicate things. I didn't think you had gotten this close. I had hoped when this was all over, your conspiracy theories would look like a desperate alibi. You might provoke a few unwanted questions now."

"You're going to pin this on me? Do you think Gerda Alfheim will keep quiet if I go to jail?" He shrugged. "I wouldn't place my trust in Gerda if I were you, Connor. She will be taken care of in due course."

I took a step forward. MacDuin raised his eyebrows in response, but otherwise didn't move. "Lorcan, you can't believe what you're doing will help. You won't be able to control it. No one will."

"You are not the first person to underestimate me, Connor. I haven't worked to convince Maeve of my sincerity only to have your pathetic interference ruin everything now." He turned to leave again. "How did you do it, Lorcan? Does Dealle Sidhe know what you're doing, or is she just as blinded by her political ambitions as you are?"

He gave me a curious stare,then amusement glittered in his eyes. He gave a long, low chuckle. "As usual, you think you have all the answers, but you're the same arrogant fool you always were. As you sit rotting in a jail cell, you still will have no idea what happened here. And I like that very much." He spun on his heel and swept out of the room. One of the goons slammed the door. I deducted points from both of them for melodrama. I kicked the door to make us all even.

What had I missed? Meryl had said the spell she found would unbind an old power. If it had come out of The Brown Book of Cenchos, it had to be a Fomorian power. The only reason macDuin would want to release something like that would be to cause chaos.Just like he wanted during the war. I doubted anyone living would know how to counter Fomorian abilities. Hell, they had ruled over the Tuatha De Danann at one time. They were a race so forgotten even Briallen thought their rituals were nonsense. MacDuin had to be insane if he thought he could handle whatever came through the opening the spell would create. I shook my head. With six people dead, I had no business being baffled by macDuin's sanity.

Another rustling sound caught my attention, and the culprit made its appearance. A large brown rat skittered along the edge of the room, lifting its nose to scent the air. It had a thick patch of fur on its head that looked charmingly like a crown. Rearing onto its hind legs, it sniffed in my direction. I looked around for something to throw and picked up a split chair leg. The rat had already turned away, but I took a shot at it anyway. I missed but scared the hell out of it. It plunged into the pile of trash, and I could hear it scratching its way frantically toward the back of the storeroom.

The voices on the other side of the door faded away. I stood listening to the silence, willing myself not to focus on how angry I felt. Anger clouded thinking. Having been in enough locked rooms in my time, I knew that thinking was usually me only way to freedom. Of course, if that failed, I still had the dagger in my boot.

16

A shrill screaming filled the air, punctuated with flashes of color. I huddled close to theground, my heart racing in what I wanted to think was excitement but really was ordinary fear. Something closed in on me, something dark and huge. I fumbled for die dagger in my boot. As I pulled it from its sheath, it blazed widi a white light. A scream rent the air.

I awoke in darkness. Cold air pressed against my skin, and the hard stone floor beneath me felt more unforgiving than ever. The torch had gone out. My breathing seemed louder than it was, fast and ragged from the nightmare. I took deep breaths to slow my heart rate and shake off the dream. My knees crackled when I stood. I rubbed my arms to bring blood to the surface. Every time I dozed off, I felt colder when I woke up. It wasn't so cold that I would die, but it was damned uncomfortable in the meantime.I wind-milled my arms to try to force more blood into my hands. It only helped a little.

I still hadlight, I had gone over the room. While I found a fair-sized inventory of old office furniture, a hidden exit did not appear. The only outlets were two small drainage grates in the back, which the rats probably found convenient.

In darkness, boredom set in, followed by sleep. The faintly luminous face of my watch displayed the progression of time widi agonizing precision. Every time I awoke from a nap, I was equally surprised whether five minutes or two hours had gone by.

Around four o'clock in the morning, my certainty that they would not be so stupid as to leave the door unlocked lost to my fear that they were that dumb, and I was even dumber for not trying. I tugged at the handle. It was locked. I went back to sleep.

The silence gave me a sick, frustrated feeling in the pit of my stomach. I had never been imprisoned before. I had been trapped under various circumstances but always in the context of moving events. I had known that just on the other side of a door or up on a roof or just a block away in a car, someone knew where I was and was coming to help. Now events were moving, but I had been taken out of the flow. I had no control. Not enough time had gone by for me to lose hope, but outside was a different matter. Outside Midsummer was coming. Night would fall and with it the official new moon of Midsummer's Eve. Someone would die, but this time chaos would break out. I dozed off again. Breakfast came in a paper bag dropped out of a blaze of light from the corridor that was cut off when the panel slammed shut. I groped around until I found it. The reek of greasy fries plumed out of the bag so strongly I could smell it through my congestion.Burgers, fries, and a water bottle. The food was cold and the water was warm. Not my usual morning fare, but my stomach had given up trying to tell time somewhere around midnight. At least the crinkle of burger wrapper was a new sound. I still had Briallen's dagger. Before the torch died, I had tested the strength of the door. The wood was old, but by no means rotten. Hacking around the hinges until they fell off would take a while, and the elf goons would stop me before I got very far. I'd only end up losing the dagger. I might be able to take at least one of them out if I tricked them inside. But that was the oldest gimmick in the book. I didn't relish stabbing one of the guards. They didn't seem to have an agenda other than being macDuin's strong-arms. That didn't mean I liked them any better, but I doubted they had signed on for the job expecting to get killed. Maybe I'd just wound them really, really bad. I stared at the door, willing it to open, and eventually fell asleep again.

Some hours later, I lifted my head from my knees. I had the vague sensation of being awakened by some kind of noise. Voices could be heard out in the corridor, rising and falling in intensity.At least two. A moment later, I realized one of them was a woman's. A third voice chimed in, low and urgent. The guards had company. I couldn't make out what was being said, but the tenor was rising. The voices grew louder as they approached.

"I don't care. The plans have changed," the woman said.

"He said tomorrow," one of the elves said in German.

"I'm not leaving without him. We don't have time."

The door flew open, and blinding light hit me full in the face. Amplifying the effect was the vision of a fairy in full blaze of anger, her wings flaring up and out. I held up my arm to deflect the glare after so much time in the dark. My eyes ran as I blinked hard to focus.

"Keeva?"I said.

"Come on, Connor. I don't want any trouble from you either." "I want to call macDuin," said one of the elves.

Keeva spun toward him. "He's busy, you idiot. Why do you think he sent me?" Something didn't feel right. My sense of perspective seemed to be off as I looked down at her. Keeva was tall enough to look me in the eye, yet I found myself staring at the top of her head.

"Keeva?"I said again.

"Let's go, Connor. I'm on a schedule."

She grabbed my arm and pulled me into the corridor.

She shot a sideways look at the elves. I could see them more clearly then. They were pissed off and confused. Keeva peered into the dark storeroom. Standing so close to her, I could see a mild blurring about her features.

"MacDuin wants you to go to the bookstore inKenmore Square and wait for us. We'll be there in half an hour," she said to the elves.

The spellcaster stepped forward. "That's not the plan."

She sneered at him. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'll tell Lorcan to check with you next time." They exchanged glares. Keeva grabbed my arm again and forced me down the corridor. The elves had remained where they were, angry uncertainty on their faces. Keeva straightened up again and stared them down. "Get moving. I'm not going to tell you again."

"We really have to move," she said under her breath as she passed me. We hustled up the corridor away from the garage. Another oaken door blocked the far end, and it took no more mystery than a good hard tug on the metal ring in its center to open it. As we passed out of sight of the corridor, I couldn't resist the urge to smile and wave to my former captors. I had to admire their nerve. They still hadn't moved. We were in yet another corridor. This one had electricity, but only a few lights. I looked down at my rescuer. "Um, Keeva, your orange roots are showing." She looked at me from under her brow. For a disconcerting moment, another visage hovered behind Keeva's. Air rippled across die face, and it faded away. So did die wings.

Meryl crossed her arms and tapped her foot. "If you wanted a perfect glamour, I would be more man happy to lock you back up for another couple of hours."

I held up my hands in surrender. "I'm not complaining. It was long enough." She frowned at me. "I would have been here sooner if someone hadn't thrown something at Muffin and scared him half to deatfi."

"The rat?That was your rat?"

She twirled her hand over her head. "Cute little guy with a tuft of hair on his head that looks like a muffin? Let's just say we're on good terms. Hurry up. Those two idiots might still decide to follow us." We made our way tfirough a series of twists and turns, the lights becoming brighter with each step. Meryl's knowledge of the lower corridors of die Guildhouse was either me product of careful map study or incredible nosiness.

"How did you know I was here?"

She shot me an annoyed look over her shoulder. "Who do you mink tried to peel the roof off their car? I didn't mink fast enough. I should have blown out the tires. I was on my way back here when you drove past me again and right into die service alley. I was too exhausted to try any-diing then." She opened a door and held it for me. "Those are die dumbest elves I've ever met." We came out in a corridor not far from die storage area Meryl had shown me days ago. She pulled a slip of paper out of her pocket and opened it. "Here's die spell I found. It blasts a hole between dimensional barriers using fey blood and hearts. I translated it into ogham since I knew you were more comfortable widi mat man Fomorian. Some of it I just put in phonetically. And that asterisk is pronounced like this." She made a thick, throat-clearing sound.

"Where the hell did you learn Fomorian?"

"Let's just say I had an interesting childhood. So, do you need any more favors, or are you deep enough in debt to me as it is?"

"Do you have a cell phone I could borrow?"

She sighed heavily and pulled a cell out of her pocket. "Go.Before I regret getting you out of that hole."

"Thanks, Meryl. I won't forget this." Impulsively, I kissed her on the top of the head and ran down die corridor to die elevator.

"I'm not paying your roaming charges!" she yelled, as me doors closed. Meryl's impersonation had given me an idea. I called Keeva. She picked up on me second ring. She wasn't surprised to hear from me. I breathed a short sigh of relief. I hoped it meant she didn't know I was supposed to be trapped in a dungeon.

"Keeva, I need to know where macDuin is."

"Connor, I don't need you screwing things up for me with macDuin."

"He just kidnapped me and had me locked in a storeroom for the last twenty-four hours. I think he's behind me murders."

She didn't speak for a moment. "Do you know how paranoid you sound right now?"

"Keeva, I can prove it. But right now, we have to find him and stop him. I think he's still loyal to his old politics from the war and wants to establish a dominant fey world here. He's going to open some kind of dimensional rift, and it's going to make Convergence look like a hiccup."

"Okay, I was wrong. Now you sound paranoid."

The elevator doors opened as I looked at my watch. It was already almost 8:00 P.M. The sun would be setting soon. The main corridor on the first floor was empty. Midsummer's Eve was a Guild holiday. The security guard looked startled as I breezed past the reception desk.

"Keeva, trust me. I have the spell he's going to use. If you won't meet me, just tell me where he is."

"You have a spell?"

It didn't seem me time to express any doubts. "Yes."

I paced on the sidewalk under the dragon lintel. It never helped to push Keeva.

"He's home. I'll meet you there." She hung up.

I let out the breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

I debated whether to spend the money for a cab,then laughed. The end of the world was coming, and I was worried about my budget. I flagged down a black-and-white Town Taxi. MacDuin lived in the Charlestown Navy Yard, and the driver was all too happy to take me there. Any destination that forced a route through the winding streets of downtown automatically meant a hefty fare. I called Murdock. Loud street noise made him difficult to hear.

"Where the hell have you been?" he said.

"Long story.Your brotherBar still has Shay under surveillance, right? If he's with me big elf that acts like a child, pick them both up. And be careful. The elf is dangerous."

"Okay. I'll get the long story?"

"I hope so. Do you have this number on caller IDT'

I heard him fumble with his phone a moment. "No," he said.

So like Meryl to block her number. I gave it to him. "Call me if you get him, Murdock. And call me fast."

"Done," he said.

I put the phone away. Working with Murdock was a hell of a lot easier than with Keeva. We did a stop-and-go creep around the Common. As we reached the top ofBeacon Hill , I steeled myself to start blurting directions. If the driver continued down the other side, we would run into one of the few streets that led into the Weird from downtown. I checked my watch again. The parade on the Avenue would be just reaching its peak, and the streets would be an inescapable traffic jam. He saved me the trouble of being annoying by turning off on a side street. Once off the Hill, we weaved through twisting streets to theCharlestownBridge .

As we turned intoCharlestown , I pulled out the piece of paper Meryl had given me. The spell was simple, but long. As I mentally sounded through the words, I could hear the ancient cadence of the Celts, only darker, more primal-sounding. Meryl had provided a rough translation. It didn't have the rhythm of the Fomorian, but it still read like a paean to the world. It was a calling to forces greater than the individual, deep forces that bound together reality. The verses sang to the ancient elements of life represented in the five cardinal points of a pentagram.

I could see now what Meryl meant by the oddity of the spell. Paradox seemed to run through it, giving an honoring to bindings yet asking for freedom; asking for release within the bounds of flesh. Yet, it had its own logic. Something wanted out, and out badly.

Below the spell and its translation, Meryl had written two more spells. They were formal in the very ancient tradition of the Tuatha de Danann, powerful spells of binding. Next to each of them, she had drawn large question marks. They were spells that did the opposite of the Fomorian one. A layman might call them counterspells, but true counterspells were devised to defend against specific spells. Meryl's notes were informed guesses. Good ones, but guesses nonetheless.

A queasy feeling crept into my stomach. Nothing that powerful had been uttered in over a thousand years, probably longer. No one had a reason to. And I didn't have the ability to give the words the power they needed. I hoped Keeva would have the strength to hold the de Danann spells long enough for them to work. The easiest course was to stop macDuin before he even began the ritual. The cab pulled into the parking lot of the Charlestown Navy Yard. I gave the driver a tip so big, I left him staring at his palm.

The Navy Yard no longer retained its original function. Shipbuilding had leftBoston long ago. The old buildings had gone derelict until someone had the idea of making them residences. Everyone thought the people who moved in were crazy to pay exorbitant prices to live in the middle of a crime-ridden neighborhood. They got the last laugh though. More development had spread around them, and the condos were worth ten times what the original owners had paid for them. Keeva was nowhere in sight. No one was in the area at all. Across the way, a few cars sat near the edge of the pier. Beyond them, boats of all sizes dotted the harbor. Their slack sails waited in the humidity for a breeze. I moved down the sidewalk to macDuin's unit. The door stood ajar. I didn't need instinct to call up my body shields. The familiar tingle spread over my head and chest.Comforting, but useless. I was tired and had little energy to do them much good.

I slid along the inner wall of the entryway and tilted my head to listen inside. I could see part of the foyer where an area rug lay askew. Without taking my eyes away, I reached down and slipped the dagger from my boot. An open, unattended door is never a good sign.

I tapped the door with my toe, and it fell back against the inside wall. A faint current of air-conditioning radiated against my face. I could see the entire entryway, a mail table with fresh-cut flowers, small oil originals above it, anatne archway to the living room beyond. To the left, stairs led to the second floor. I could hear no signs of movement.

I eased into the entryway. Something glistened on the third step. I didn't need to be a hematologist to recognize fairy blood. As I moved closer, I could see another spot on the railing near the top. I leaned forward and closed the front door. Witiiout knowing who had left the trail of blood, I didn't want any surprises coming in behind me.

I darted a look into the stairwell. The landing was empty. Testing each step for noise, I made my way to the second floor. More bloodstains showed on the walls and floor. In a technical sense, I was contaminating a possible crime scene, so I did my best not to disturb anything. The bedrooms on the second floor were empty. The blood trail continued up.

As I crept up the last flight, the top floor came into view. The stairs led to a room mat stretched from the front of the building to the back. Great beams crisscrossed the ceiling. As my eyes came level with the floor, I looked under a couch that had been positioned against the railing. Someonelay on the floor, a man by the look of the bare feet facing me. I could see no one else in the room. Unless someone was lying on the couch, the townhouse was empty except for me and the prone figure. I walked up the last few steps and almost slipped on a broken ward stone on the floor. I picked up a large chunk of it and recognized it as the same material as the wards from the other murders. Whatever purpose it had served had been destroyed with the stone. Coming around the couch, I stopped in surprise.

MacDuin lay on the floor. He had been stripped naked and pinned to the floor like a butterfly. Ward stones held his wings flat, just like the other victims. His chest had been split from collarbone to abdomen and wrenched open. It had been done with such force that his lungs were splayed to the sides, and the heart appeared to have been torn out instead of cut.

I edged around the body to get a closer look. Too late, I felt a tingle across the nape of my neck. Even as I pulled back, the field of another ward stone grabbed me, and I froze in place. I let out an angry sigh, cursing myself for stupidity. I had taken the lack of any sensation of a ward as a sign that there were none.

The wards on the wings were too small and far away to be the culprits. The ones at the other murder scenes had been keyed to each other to hold the wings back. Even given my recent propensity for walking into traps, I didn't think it was too much to assume these stones were any different, but obviously I was wrong. I tried rolling my eyes to the extreme, but couldn't place the offending stone and only hurt my eyes.

I stared into macDuin's face. He hadn't gone easily. An open cut on his cheekbone looked like the result of a punch. It had probably thrown him into the ward field I was in now, and the rest had been by the book for the murderer.

In the dead silence, a familiar sound caught my ear. French doors at the back of the room led to the balcony. The distinctive hum of fairy wings in motion whirred from the same direction. Most fairies dampened the noise unless they didn't care if someone heard them coming. I let out a sigh of relief when Keeva fluttered into view. She brought herself down onto me balcony with long practiced ease. She reached for the door and paused when she caught sight of me. Her lips compressed into the thin line that I had learned long ago meant annoyed condescension. She opened the door.

"Well, well, well, don't we make a pretty picture?" She held her arms loosely at her sides, waiting for me to respond. XjhTcan'ttalk ?" She paced near the door, making exaggerated thoughtful poses. "Let me see, what could have happened here? Could it be the great Connor Grey is trapped?" She gave me a sideways smirk. I tried to throw as much anger into my eyes as I could under the circumstances.

"Imagine my surprise when I find my dear, beloved boss sliced open and a former, troubled employee poised over him with a dagger. I do wish I had a camera." She stopped moving and faced me again.

"You do know how much macDuin would have loved this moment." She leaned forward with just her upper body and peered down at the body. "He doesn't seem to be enjoying it mough.Pity." She looked at me again and shook her head. "I have to hand it to you, Connor. You do know how to be in the right place at the wrong time. MacDuin said you would spoil everything. He wanted to frame you for the other murders, you know. And now here you are, conveniendy located next to another body. Maybe I'll pick up on that little aspect of his plan."

She slipped a knife from her belt and hefted it in her hand. Glancing at me once, she paced again without speaking. A bead of sweat slipped down my spine. I watched her move back and forth. She looked down at her knife again. She knew. She knew about Corcan. But macDuin was dead. Someone else had to be controlling Corcan. A new dread gripped me, and I pressed as hard as I could against the ward-spell.

"No," I said. It came out strangled and die spell bore down around me again. Keeva smiled broadly."Very impressive. I mink it's time to put you out of your misery, don't you?" She direw the knife.My heart hammered in my chest as I watched die hilt leave her hand. The knife flew at me with nauseating slowness, light catching the blade as it soared across the room. It's been said that me doom of the world can rest on the edge of a knife. For once, I believed it. The knife whistled past my ear and stuck into a beam somewhere above me. A loud report rang out as something fell. I stumbled free and almost landed on macDuin.

I turned in confusion. Another ward lay broken on the floor. I spun back to Keeva. She just stood there with her arms crossed and a smile playing on her lips.

"That... wasn't.. .funny!"

She shrugged. "Sorry. I couldn't help myself."

I put my dagger back in its sheath and slipped it into my boot. Given my condition, it wouldn't be much help against Keeva anyway. "What the hell happened here?"

She walked over to macDuin and squatted by his side. "He was like this when I got here. Heart's gone." She stood, wiping her hands on her thighs.

"Why did you let me walk into a trap?"

She poked me in the chest. "I didn't let you do anything. The front door was open when I got here, and I thought you had done something stupid like go inside. I got rid of the ward at the top of the stairs, but the angle was bad for the other one, so I went around to the balcony. I'm surprised you didn't sense it." I rubbed my nose. "I've been having trouble smelling anything." Keeva bit her lower lip and looked away. "Promise you'll let me explain?" I cocked my head to the side in confusion. She reached out and placed her hand on my forehead. I felt an odd shifting of pressure, as though I had ridden in a fast elevator and my sinuses were catching up a second late. I could breathe again. I sneezed and gagged once very hard. Between macDuin's exposed organs and the killer's essence, the stench in the room was overwhelming. I grabbed Keeva's arm.

"What the hell did you do to me the other night?"

She wrenched her arm away with no trouble and stepped away from me. "I saved you a trip to the hospital. When macDuin realized you knew Gethin's essence, he wanted me to block you. I refused, so he sent his henchmen after you. You should thank me. I got them and macDuin off your back."

"Gethin?Then he knew Gethin is here?"

She looked at me in confusion. "Of course he did."

"I thought Lorcan was using Corcan to commit the murders."

She shook her head. "Wow. No, Connor. You're way off. Corcan didn't commit the murders. Gethin did. I thought you figured out the ritual? Gethin's dying from genetic defects. MacDuin told me he had a spell to cure himself. He's more fairy than elf and was murdering the prostitutes for their hearts. He needed them to purge his elfin essence. As best we could tell, he needs Corcan as a final purging vessel to accept his elfin essence."

"Then why was macDuin trying to end the police investigation?" She stared at me in confusion. After a moment, she nodded. "Connor, Gethin's name is macLorcan. MacDuin and Gerda Alfheim had an affair during the war. He's macDuin's son." Stunned, I lowered myself onto the couch. The image of macDuin laughing at me in the basement of the Guild-house rose in my mind. He had realized I didn't know. And he didn't tell me. And he had intended to frame me. I looked over at the body and tried to feel bad he was dead.

"I can't believe this. He was willing to let people die just to protect his son?"

"MacDuin was trying to stop him, Connor. He didn't want anyone to know. He was afraid the press would find out the killer was a son he had with a radical activist. Connecting him with Gerda Alfheim would bring his old war collaboration ties out again. He really had put all that behind him, but his reputation would never have recovered again.Especially not with Maeve. With the Fey Summit winding down, she can't afford anyone being suspicious of her motives."

"You were helping him."

She smiled. "I did more than help. I caught the bastard. Two days ago. MacDuin was keeping him locked up here until after Midsummer so he couldn't kill anyone else and complete the ritual." Now I understood the sensation of more wards in the house. A closed door at the back of the room vibrated with blocking wards. I went over to it. "This is where he kept him?" Keeva nodded. I opened the door. Inside was a small alcove room with just a bed. Above it was a window with a shattered frame. Gethin must have gone out that way and set the trap for macDuin. That wasn't what grabbed my attention, though. A pentagram was painted on each of die four walls and centered on the ceiling was a fifth. Gethin had drawn them in his own blood.

Realization swept over me. "We have to leave right now. I know where he's going to do the ritual." Keeva gestured at MacDuin. "The ritual is over, Connor. Gethin got his last heart from his own father. He's probably fully fairy by now."

"Think, Keeva. The hearts are not here. This is about more man healing Gethin. Didn't you wonder about the pentagrams?"

I handed her the spell Meryl had given me. The color drained from her face as her eyes moved down the page. She gave the paper back. "This isn't the spell macDuin showed me. Where do you think Gethin is?"

"CastleIsland.Shay was going to take Corcan there for the fireworks. Gethin must be meeting them." She strode onto the balcony, shots of light beginning to course into her wings. In the gathering dusk, she glowed above me as she lifted into the air. I stepped beneath her, and she hooked her hands under my arms from behind. My stomach dropped as my feet left the tiled flooring. We soared above the building. The setting sun smeared streaks of orange and red across the horizon. To the east over the harbor, the sky had faded to a flat gray. Too anxious to wait for full nightfall, people were already shooting off cheap fireworks, little bursts of color to the south over the Weird andSouth Boston . We made straight for them.

Black clouds sprang up in the east, lightning flickering among them. A gust of wind hit us, and Keeva veered sideways. Reacting to my fear, my body shields materialized. Keeva almost lost her grip on me as the shields made me harder to hold. She dug her fingers painfully into my arms as I tamped the shields back down. We were out over the water, the downtown skyline slipping past. The surface of the harbor shimmered in a haze of white foam. A stronger gust of wind battered us, and we dropped a dozen feet before Keeva recovered. We skimmed near the surface of the water, where fish were running in all directions, sending up a frenzied spray. People on boats scrambled to pull in their sails. Keeva began chanting, trying to use the wind's energy to work with her. Her flight stabilized as we shot over the Weird. OldNorthern Avenue was a blaze of color and movement. People jammed the length of the street, dancing and flying in celebration. Keeva kept us just above the fray, weaving in and out of other fairies. We joined a small convoy of people flying out toCastleIsland for the fireworks. Away from the distractions of theWeird , apprehension replaced excitement on faces turned toward the dark cloud bank that had spread rapidly over the harbor.

CasdeIslandcame into view, its shores lined with hundreds of people.FortIndependence spread out below us, its five sides of granite rising thirty feet above the crowd. It was the biggest damn pentagram in the city. A green parade ground should have been visible at its open center, but a sallow haze of light glowed instead. The essence that radiated off it pulsated with malevolence.

"I can't get through that," Keeva yelled. She banked to the right and brought me down in the parking lot. On the opposite side, more people filled the causeway that looped aroundPleasureBay . Keeva and I pushed our way through the crowd.

I pulled out the cell phone and called Murdock. "Where are you?" I said.

"I'm at the front gate ofFortIndependence ." I closed the phone. Someone let off firecrackers, and the crowd roared its approval. I grabbed Keeva's sleeve and pointed at the fort. I had to yell to be heard.

"Front gate!" She nodded once and grabbed me again. We launched over the crowd and flew up the hill. Coming around the nearest rampart of the fort, I could see Murdock scanning the crowd, his hand resting on his holstered weapon. Keeva dropped me right next to him.

It says something about the world we live in that Murdock didn't blink an eye at my arrival. "What's going on?" he asked.

"The end of the world.What happened to Shay and Corcan?"

Murdock jerked his thumb at the closed gate. It stood about fifteen feet high with iron hinges. An unlocked chain dangled from the door rings. Even with all the fey milling about, I could feel the sealing spell on the door. "They went in there. Door won't budge."

I turned to Keeva. "It's a spell, not a ward."

She rested her hand on the panel of the door to sense the level of power. Pulling her hand back, a ball of white shot from her palm and raced around the edges of both doors. She tugged one of the rings, and the door opened. I guess they weren't expecting high-powered company.

Inside, a passage glowed with the same sickly light we had seen above.A wrongness throbbed on the air mat even Murdock could feel by the look on his face. He unholstered his gun, gave us a nod, and went in. Keeva rolled her eyes and pushed past him. "That gun isn't going to do much good here, big guy." The far end of the corridor framed the parade ground in a simple arch. In the center, a naked, bone white figure stood, fairy wings undulating out from either side of him. Dark almond-shaped eyes stared from a worn face of ecstatic triumph. Seeing Gethin macLorcan in person made me realize that Shay's police sketch really had looked nothing like Corcan Sidhe. I had been seeing only the superficial similarities.

Shay lay crumpled on the ground just on the edge of the lawn. Ignoring him, Keeva walked onto the grass. Murdock trailed behind her with his gun drawn as I leaned down to check Shay. I couldn't tell if he was breathing. I wondered if he knew how over his head he had been. Pulling my dagger, I stepped up behind Keeva. The blade felt warm and alive in my hand, its runes grabbing the light around it. Gethin had drawn himself inside another pentagram. Spirit jars sat at the five points, filled with herbs and water and the unmistakable shapes of hearts. Corcan lay at the center, his head near Gethin's feet. His body was rigid, and he stared straight up without seeing.

"You've done enough," said Keeva.

Gethin brought his gaze down, inspecting her with coal black eyes. His ears were not so much rounded as stunted points.

"I've just begun," he said.The voice.At once raspy and clear, like someone who had been smoking all night and talking too loud. It wasn't a voice to forget. Neither was his essence. Stinkwort and I had been so close the other night. We could have saved the last victim and even macDuin if we had been faster. His essence still felt wrong, but it had become muted, more fairy in nature, with a distasteful edge to it. As I moved closer, the hair on my arms bristled. He had already sealed the circle around the pentagram and erected a protection barrier. Most sane people did that with themselves on the outside.

"You don't have to do this. You got what you wanted," I said. His eyes shifted to me. "What I wanted? No. What I wanted was to claim my mother's noble heritage. Instead, I must wear the disgusting wings of my traitorous father." Keeva had circled around the pentagram. She kept one hand near her waist and flexed at the wrist. She was gauging the strength of the shield. When she reached the point opposite me, she shook her head. She hadn't found any weakness.

"You can't do this," Keeva said.

Gethin's face twisted into a sneer. "Only you think in terms of cannot." He spread his arms out. "Look at my power, de Danann. Look at your own. You waste yourself. If more of you had joined my mother's people, we would be ruling this place. Instead, you cower before the humans, content to take the dregs they offer."

"Let Corcan go. You don't need him anymore," I said.

"I need him to open the way. I am keeping my word to my mother, unlike my father. She found me a cure. Now we will cure the world." He began to chant. I recognized the spell. Good ol' Meryl had hit the nail on the head. Gethin was opening a door into chaos. Wind picked up in speed. Outside me fort, someone shot off a roman candle that glimmered red-orange through the hazy light of the protection barrier Gethin had erected. More explosions went off as the first display of fireworks appeared overhead.

"This spell will kill you!" I shouted. He faltered for a moment.

"You're wrong. It opens the door for The Defeated Who Will Conquer. They will ally with us, and we shall rule to-gether." He had the fevered gleam in his eye of the rabidly insane. There wasn't going to be any reasoning with him.

He began chanting again. He raised a hand, and a burst of yellow light tore through the barrier and into the sky. It seemed to fly up forever and scatter among the clouds. A heavy silence spread around us except for Gethin's guttural muttering. Off in the distance, a moaning broke out. The ground vibrated with a deep thrumming. A torrent of air pounded down out of the sky, throwing us off our feet. I lifted my head against the pressure. A towering wall of water ringed the walls of the fort, a dark, malevolent green surging toward the open sky all around and above us. Gethin had called up the sea. The wind died down. Confused shouting came from outside the walls, and more stray fireworks arced against the darkness.

Keeva flew to my side. "We can't penetrate the pentagram. The shield's stronger than anything I've seen."

"That's not the real problem." I looked up at the wall of water around us. "That's where all hell's going to break loose."

"Will someone please tell me what's going on?" said Murdock. He had not taken his eyes or his gun off Gethin.

I pointed at the seawall. "That is the gateway to a dimensional prison. The Dananns spellbound some critters called Fomorians. Gethin's breaching the barrier to let them out. They're big and nasty, and they're not going to be very happy to be here."

"Sorry I asked." He cocked his gun and aimed at Gethin. "So why don't I shoot him?"

"You can't see the barrier around the pentagram, but it will stop a bullet." Gethin continued chanting, facing each of the points of the pentagram in turn. He picked up a stone blade and crawled around Corcan, inscribing runes into the ground. Pinpoints of light appeared in the spirit jars and raced around the hearts. They pulsed with an eldritch glow. Five columns of red light shot from them and pierced the clouds that capped the ring of water around the fort. A tremendous clap of thunder broke, the force of its vibration almost knocking us to the ground again. Above us, the clouds revolved in a circle like the beginning of a tornado. The center rippled and tore open, widening like the pupil of a dead eye. Oddly, no stars shone in the blanket of black. The surface of the wall of water rustled like a windblown curtain. Figures moved beneath the surface, huge unshapely things, vague and undefined.

"Keeva, use the binding spell to bind us all in here. We have to block Gethin's access to the water." She closed her eyes in concentration. She shook her head. "I don't have your recall, Connor." I fumbled in my pocket for Meryl's note and thrust it at her. "Learnquick . I'll try and distract him." I flung myself at the pentagram. The invisible barrier yielded a few inches, then threw me off. Gethin didn't even notice. My dagger had gone flying when I landed on the ground. As I picked it up, the runes on the hilt glimmered. Bracing for the inevitable pain, I forced some of my own essence down my arm, and they burned brighter. The blade had some ability in it even if I couldn't access most of my own. I approached the barrier again and slashed at it. A shower of sparks rent the air, pitting my skin with burns. Gethin did not stop chanting, but he glanced at me that time. I slashed again. More sparks cascaded over me, and I stumbled away. Gethin stretched out his arm, and a charge of energy hit me in the chest. I fell on my back.

I sat forward, clutching the hot, sore spot on my chest. It hurt like ten fists had pummeled me.

"Got it," said Keeva. She launched herself into the air above Gethin and began to chant. As she flew above us, a faint trail of blue light began to appear behind her. She had en the shorter spell by the sound of it. I could sense the weaving of her words bonding to the top of the battlements of the fort. The spell wouldn't take down the seawall, but if she managed to close Gethin inside the spell, his own spell would be trapped.

I hit the barrier again. This time I was prepared for Gethin's countershot and rolled out of the way before it even left his hand. It hit the wall behind me, and Keeva screamed. The power from Gethin's bolt had latched on to her spell. It went wild. She was spinning out of control, her face contorting in pain. I watched helplessly as she spun faster and faster in the air. With a burst of electric blue fire, she vanished from sight.

I screamed for her. No answer came. My senses trembled with the power of the shield capping the parade ground. I could feel her essence permeating it, but I could not feel her physical presence anywhere. In the sudden quiet, I heard laughter. I turned back to the pentagram. Pure joy lit Gethin's face as he raised the stone knife over Corcan's heart.

"No!" Murdock shouted.

I shouted, too, but too late. He fired his gun. The barrier burst into a fury of white light as it absorbed the bullet, folding in at the point of impact. The bullet funneled inward. Just when I thought it would stop, it grazed Gethin's arm as he brought it down. He recoiled and dropped die knife. The funnel of light reversed itself, bouncing back to where die barrier had been.

"Get down!" I yelled to Murdock. He eidier didn't hear me or didn't understand. The funnel flattened out at me barrier and exploded outward. It took him in me shoulder and flung him off die ground. He sailed limply through die air and landed widi a sickening mud. His body tumbled out of sight into the entrance passageway.

Gethin dropped to his knees. The bullet had only grazed him, but clearly it had stunned him a little. As he stretched one hand out for the fallen knife, he rested the other on the ground. Time moved slowly for me as I stared at that hand. The one steadfast rule of any protection barrier around a pentagram is that only the one who casts it can break it. I stared at his hand, fully halfway outside the invisible barrier. I flung my dagger. He screamed as it pierced him between the knuckles, pinning his hand to the ground. Before he could react, I grabbed the hilt of the dagger and yanked him the rest of the way out of the pentagram. The barrier dissipated immediately.

Gethin screamed and launched himself on me. His fist connected with my cheekbone and knocked me to the edge of senselessness. He straddled me and flailed away as I tried to block the blows with my arms. I swung at him with the dagger. He deflected it, and it flew from my hand. He hit me again. As he brought his fist up for another blow, he paused and looked up. Blood was running into my eyes, but I saw lights in the sky above us, flickers of blue and green, yellow and pink. They were like fireworks, only moving with a purpose. Gethin pulled back onto his feet and shot bolfs of white light upward from his palms. The lights swirled and danced away from it, but kept coming. I shook my head to clear it. I could hear chanting.

The sounds resolved into words, a phrase repeated over and over.Ny a wrug agas dhestrewy jy. It wasn't a chant. It was a war cry. We will destroy you.

I laughed in disbelief. It was Cornish. The People had arrived. By the hundreds, flits spiraled into the parade ground screaming for all they were worth. The Power of their dance surrounded me, filling my body with essence, like the day Stinkwort had performed the sun greeting with me. Only this time it was off the scale. The black mass in my head receded. I dragged myself to my feet. The block was gone. I could tap my essence.All of it. I had my ability back. I picked up my dagger and called out to Gethin. I pointed my dagger at him."Hey, asshole. Know what happens when you use a knife for a wand? It hurts like hell." Energy coursed down my arm and shot out the blade. It hit him in the head, and he collapsed. The flits swarmed all over him. Gethin struggled and screamed under a fury of color. The flits were screaming right back at him. One broke away and flew toward me, his sword held aloft. Stinkwort hung in front of me, his body bathed in blood. The flush of battle euphoria suffused his face. "I said we'd get the bastard!"

"You must have called in every clan in the country."

He fluttered back. "Near enough. You okay?"

"It'll hurt more in the morning."

Joe gave me a great big grin. "It always does. I have to stop them before they kill him."

"What are you going to do with him?"

His grin broadened into that impossible smile. "He's a fairy now. We're going to give him fairy justice." With that, he shouted in Cornish, and every single flit vanished. Gethin had disappeared, too. They had taken him. Only one place dispensed fairy justice:Tara , where Maeve ruled with a cold hand. Corcan had not moved. I bent at his side to check for a pulse. It felt faint, but it was there. I turned his head toward me. Gethin's knife had nicked his cheekbone when it fell. A bead of blood trembled at the edge of the cut. As if in slow motion, it detached itself and dripped. Up. Startled, I stepped back. Before what that meant occurred to me, the droplet floated out of my reach.

It gathered speed as it rose. I watched helplessly as it shot up to the seawall. The sea had not fallen back. The water shimmered where the blood made contact, and a black and sinuous crack appeared. It bulged, turning blacker, and something stepped through. A mass of gray darkness coiled in the air and descended. It touched the ground on the other side of the pentagram and resolved into a mass of quivering flesh. An arm uncoiled, thick and greenly scaled, and then a head no more than a lump attached at the shoulder, with a single bulbous eye and a mass of teeth. I'd seen pictures that I thought were nightmare exaggerations. This was no exaggeration. The Fomorian unfurled, a sickly gray torso supported by thick, black stumps for legs. It smelled like the rot of a thousand fish left in the sun. It swiveled its body around until its eye found Corcan. It shambled a few steps toward him, and I raised my dagger.

"Back off." I have no idea if it understood me, but it stopped. Its eye rotated up. My body shields activated, the real ones, covering my entire body in a cushion of protection. It felt good to have them back, but I wasn't too thrilled at the cause.

It howled and lifted an arm. A swordappeared, a great length of jagged ebony iron. I couldn't tell whether it had it when it fell or had just conjured it from somewhere. It hefted the sword and eyed my dagger warily. While I held its attention, I used my free hand to work a protection spell over Corcan. The thing raised its blade and swung at Corcan. In a shower of green sparks, it bounced off the barrier I had made. My protection spell evaporated like a mist. I shot a bolt of energy at the ground, and the Fomorian leaped back. I stepped between it and Corcan and recast the protection. The blade swung toward me. Dodging away, I clawed my left hand at the air. White lightning crackled from my fingertips. It caught the creature in the chest, and it let loose an unearthly howl. The eye began to glow. My limbs suddenly grew heavy. I could feel some kind of spell draping over me. I tried to shake it off, but I didn't understand how it worked. I crumpled down. The Fomorian came toward me, sword raised. My hands were anchored to the ground.A mistake. I waited until it was ready to bring the sword down, and I tapped into the essence of the earth around me. The ground between us erupted in a shower of mud. The thing lurched sideways, its sword striking my leg with a glancing blow. Red pain lanced through my knee.

I scrambled toward the fallen thing and plunged my dagger into its thigh. It screamed again. A fierce heat blistered up my arm. I jerked the dagger out and fired bolts of pure energy at it The Fomorian flailed wildly, scrabbling away. It flung the blade at me. My shields absorbed the impact, but the power of the thing knocked me off my feet again. I landed hard on my side and felt ribs crack. Curling into the pain, I crawled away. It thrust a hand out and more heat blazed across my body. I smelled a nasty burning odor and realized my hair was on fire. I rolled again, grunting against the pain in my side as I batted at the flames.

As it reached for its weapon again, I used the simplest of spells to send the sword soaring out of the parade ground. The thing bellowed in fury, dragging itself to its feet. I held the dagger out and shot the same bolt of energy I had used on Gethin. He only hesitated a moment, shrugging it off. With a roar, he surged forward and punched me in the face. Blood gushed out of my nose. The energy from the flits was wearing off. The darkness in my head gnawed at the edges of my mind. It hadn't gone away, only receded from the essence supplied by the flit clans. I wasn't going to make it. The Fomorian was too strong. I had no idea how to counter his strength, never mind his power. He hit me again. My head snapped back against the ground. He crouched over me and began swinging.Blow after blow struck me, sending me skittering across the ground. The only reason I wasn't dead was that my body shields blunted the force. But they were only blunting the blows. I began to lose consciousness. He hit me again, and I went airborne. I landed hard against the wall and slumped to the ground. A wet sound rattled in my chest I felt the unmistakable pain of a rib puncturing my lung. I was burning out. Channeling essence through the body is exhausting under the best of circumstances. I could feel lots of things broken inside me. I didn't have much time left before nature took its course. In desperation, I called up the one thing I had strength for. A deep white fog hissed around me, hiding me from sight. I could see the Fomorian, but he couldn't see me. He stumbled around in the druid fog, bellowing in anger. Twice he almost trampled Shay's still-inert body. It didn't matter if he did. I couldn't stop him. He would eventually find Corcan, rip open his body, and use the blood to let more of his kind out of the sea barrier.

Trying to breathe as shallowly as possible, I stared up at the full moon. I wasn't any good with Moon spells. As Bri-allen said, they work best for women. I eased myself up against the wall as the thing clawed against the ground nearby. With painful steps, I inched my way around the perimeter. If I could get out, I could get help. There had to be a fairy outside the wallswho could at least help me contain the thing.

I was halfway to the exit when I stopped. Confused, I looked up again. The moon stared back at me. It wasn't supposed to be there. It was the first night of the new moon. The sky should be empty. Why would I see a moon that shouldn't be there? An ancient, dry voice welled up in my memory. Not your moon.

Not your moon. I tried to think, but I was too tired. If it wasn't my moon, what was it? Virgil somehow knew I'd see a moon that wasn't mine. He didn't know what it meant.Damned gargoyle. I didn't know what it meant either. I wished Briallen were with me. She would matter-of-factly point out the obvious to me. I felt dizzy and slumped against the wall. I jerked my head up. Had I blacked out? The Fomorian seemed farther away than before.Or closer. I couldn't really remember. I felt like lying down.Maybe just for a bit. Something slipped out of my memory.Briallen.Something about Briallen. Briallen would know what to do with the moon. But she was locked in her trance.Right. Only I could wake her. That was what she had said. She should see this moon. A sick feeling welled up in my stomach. What would happen to her if I died? Would she sleep forever? Or would she waste away until she died?

I could almost see the darkness in my mind now. It was biding its time, like it knew it would win eventually. I laughed. It was only going to win a dead body.

The Fomorian was snuffling along the perimeter of the wall now. He was looking for me, and he would find me. I felt bad about Briallen. I hoped she wouldn't be too disappointed. I fumbled in my pocket for the cell phone. I decided to leave a message for her if she woke up. She would need to know what she was up against. No signal. I tossed the phone away, wincing at the pain. The Fomorian swung his head around at the noise and moved toward it.

I wished she could know I had my ability back at the end. She would have been happy for me. My head felt heavy, and I let my chin fall to my chest. I tried to will away the pain and focus on happy memories. Times when I didn't know how tough it was going to be, when I thought practicing simple levitations in Briallen's house was the tough stuff.

I picked my head up. The darkness in my head hadn't won yet. It was returning, but I could still feel my abilities. I still had them, and I was about to die an idiot. I had one more shot. It would probably kill me, but I had to try. I placed my hands against the ground and pulled as much essence out of the earth as I could. My vision flashed red as my mind screamed at the effort. I was the only one who could reach her. I didn't need a fucking cell phone. When I couldn't hold any more, I released all the essence in one massive sending. I called Briallen.

Exhausted, I collapsed to the ground. Blood stung my eyes. I pawed at them feebly. The creature still haunted the edges of the fort. My vision blurred as I let my head loll against the ground. I stared up into the sky, the strange moon a pale blur. Its surface seemed to ripple. I tried to clear my vision, but the moon just rippled again. It folded in on itself, a twist of white light that cascaded down from the sky like an unwinding ribbon. Soundlessly, it hit me like a tidal wave.

My body convulsed as essence coursed through my veins. Spikes of pain shot through my broken body, and I screamed. I think I did lose consciousness for a moment. I opened my eyes. The darkness had fled from my mind again. The pain went with it. I couldn't feel anything.Nothing but Power. Amazed, I pulled myself to my feet. My body vibrated with more Power than I had ever felt. I could feel Briallen. My eyes swept the parade ground, but didn't see her. But I could feel her. Realization swept over me. She was inside me. Somehow, I could feel Briallen's essence inside me. And feel her Power. I could tap it.

I lifted the dagger. The runes on the blade flared with a ghostly pale fire. It became a thing alive in my hand, pulsating.And growing. Essence flowed down my arm. The blade stretched and grew into a burning sword of red flame.

Sensing the surge of power from me, the Fomorian turned. I watched his eye home in on me. He charged through the fog, black lighting coursing around him. I grasped the sword with both hands and pointed the blade. With a shout, I tapped all the essence inside me. A crackle of blazing red energy burst from the focused tip of the blade. Crimson fire raced across the field. A ball of fierce hot light engulfed the Fomorian, blinding me with its intensity. I heard a screeching wail of pain. And then nothing.

Phantom black spots flickered in my eyes as my vision cleared. The Fomorian was gone. Scorched earth marked the spot where he had stood.

I swayed on my feet. My body felt like an empty husk. I couldn't feel anything inside. Not Briallen. Not even my own essence. I had purged everything out of me. The darkness in my head settled back in, cutting off any ability to tap essence.Again. I fell to the ground.

I watched the seawall fall back and heard the crashing surge of a flood outside the fort. The strange moon faded away, and the stars came out.Cold, crisp stars in the blanket of night sky. Only for a moment though. The clouds that had hung over the city all day swirled back and blotted out the light. Time felt suspended. I don't know how long I lay there. I could feel blood and sweat saturating my clothes. I could sense broken bones and worse inside me. But I didn't feel any pain.A bad sign.A very bad sign. Not far off, Corcan and Shay lay, still not moving. In the dark entryway to the fort, I could make out Murdock's inert body.And Keeva. Keeva, I didn't feel at all. Not her essence. Not her body. Nothing. She was gone. Meryl had dreamed it. She had seen this final moment. It was going to end with everyone around me dead and me not far behind. I whispered an apology to all of them. A fat drop of rain hit me on the face.Then another and another. Curtains of water gushed down as the clouds opened. It felt cold and good in a distant way. In the darkness of the passage beyond Murdock, something moved. A tall, pale shape shimmered there, moving toward me. The image resolved itself into that of a woman walking. She paused on the edge of the parade ground, seeming to take in the carnage. Slowly, she came to me across the grass, stark white and beautiful. Even her hair shone white. She smiled through tears streaming down her face. Gently, she reached out a hand and placed it on my forehead. "Sleep," Briallen said. And I did.

17

An insistent beeping roused me from deep sleep. I had the vague notion I should fling my arm out and destroy an alarm clock. The thought woke me even more, but only mentally. My body felt leaden. The beeping sound clarified, resolving into a steady rhythm. I recognized it now. It wasn't an alarm. It was a heart monitor. With an effort, I dragged my eyelids up.

Old acoustical tiles covered the ceiling. Directly over my head, someone with a probably annoyingly cheerful personality had put a yellow smiley face sticker. I could feel an essence comfortably radiating against my side. Curled into a ball near my waist, Stinkwort slept. Next to die bed, Briallen sat in a vinyl-covered armchair. She was sleeping, too. I hadn't imagined her at the fort. Her skin was paler than ever, and her hair was stark white.

The heart monitor beeped away. An IV stand with several bags dangling from it stood at the head of the bed. A tangle of plastic tubing ran from the bags and disappeared under wads of white tape on my arm. A brace on my right leg made the bedcover look like a mountain range. A plaster cast was on my left arm. The doorway and windows in the room were wreathed in lavender and dill. Using my famous skills of deduction, I realized I was back in Avalon Memorial.

A vase on the nightstand held a bouquet of black roses. Careful not to rouse Stinkwort, I reached for the card. The front had another smiley face, this one with two black Xs instead of eyes and a tongue sticking out of its mouth. I opened it.

Dear Connor. Don't Die. XXOO, Meryl.P.S. Nice going on that whole end of the world thing. I smiled. I guess I was wrong about the relentlessly cheerful smiley face owner. I placed the card back on die nightstand. It slid off and fluttered to the floor. I didn't even try to catch it.

"We have to stop meeting like this," said Briallen.

Exhausted, I moved only my eyes to look at her. She was sitting up straighter, but however long her nap had been didn't erase the fatigue from her face.

"How's Murdock?"

"He's fine. He's two floors down."

I frowned. It was unusual for Avalon to treat humans. "Why's he hereT'

"Power backlash of some kind.It's playing with his essence, but he appears fine. He doesn't remember anything after showing up at the fort. Want to tell me what happened?"

"First, tell me about the others."

She leaned forward. "Shay's exhausted, but fine, at least physically. When they brought him here afterCastleIsland , he woke up screaming. Apparently he was having blackouts and his memories came back. He was at some of the murders. Gillen found the remnants of a possession spell on him."

"Makes sense," I said. "I couldn't figure out why Shay kept having so many connections to what was happening. Gethin must have used him to find victims and gam access to Corcan Sidhe." Briallen nodded in agreement. "He's blaming himself for what happened, but, really, he was defenseless against someone like that."

Poor Shay.I hoped he was strong enough to get past it. "What about Corcan?"

"I'm told he's healthier than ever. The ritual had a positive effect on him." She paused.

"Keeva's dead," I said.

Briallen took my hand and squeezed."No, hon'. She's alive. Why did you think she was dead?" Relief swept over me. "I thought I watched her die. What did she say?"

"She said she put a barrier over the fort to contain the spell."

'That's it?"

"That's it."

I nodded. Keeva being modest was interesting.

"Okay. Me. What's wrong?"

"Let's see ... a ruptured spleen, a collapsed lung, torn knee ligaments, your arm is fractured in three places, a concussion ..." She smiled. "You've been out of it for nine days. Let's just say for now that you're not dead and leave it at that."

I didn't say anything for a moment. I could feel emotional heat rise in my face. Briallen knew me pretty well. She knew I didn't like crying. "I had my ability back, Briallen. It's gone again, but I had it back and I still failed."

She rubbed my hand. "You didn't fail. You beat the thing, averted a catastrophe, and everyone escaped relatively unharmed."

"Relatively."

She rolled her eyes."Fine. I won't argue with you today."

"Was that really you at the end?"

She leaned back in her chair. "Yes and no. Your sending blew the door off my sanctum. I knew I wouldn't get to you in time. So, I sent as much of my essence to you as I could.

"I almost killed you, too, didn't I?"

She smiled. "I won't lie. I took a huge risk and drained myself almost to nothing. But you didn't almost kill me."

"How did you send the image of the moon when you were in a trance?" She gave me a curious look.

"I saw a full moon when there shouldn't have been any. A gargoyle told me it wasn't my moon. It's what made me think of you. I thought you sent it."

She shook her head. "I don't know what you saw. You were in a dimensional vortex. Who knows where you really were at that moment? The Wheel turns as it will, Connor. I have no idea why a gargoyle would know that about the Power of the Moon, but I'm glad it did." We didn't speak for a long moment. Talking of the moon brought me back to the fort. I remember watching the fireworks and the flits and the thought crossing my mind that it felt familiar. It wasn't just Meryl's dream either. She had seen the end—the bodies and the injuries. I had seen flashes of everything else before that.The lights.The sword.And the bug-eyed monster. In retrospect, I realized what that meant.

"I dreamed the whole tiling," I said. "Well, not the whole thing.Most of it.Just not enough. Like you said, I'm not aDreamer, at least I wasn't that I knew of. I didn't understand that I was dreaming the future until just now. I thought I was just having nightmares."

Briallen tilted her head to the side and pursed her lips. "Maybe this mystery thing in your head is forcing your abilities in new directions."

"I don't want new directions. I want my abilities back."

She sighed. "One of these days you're going to be pleased by the curves that life throws you, Connor, and I, for one, can't wait to experience the novelty." I smiled at her. "So tell me about this dagger that turns into a sword."

She shrugged. "Actually, it's a sword that turns into a dagger."

"And... ?"

"And, that's it. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth."

1 let it lie. Briallen would tell me what she wanted me to know in her own good time. I glanced down at the still-sleeping Stinkwort. "What happened to Gethin?"

"I'll let Joe tell you. It's his story."

There was a knock, and Keeva stuck her head in the door. "Oh, sorry, I can come back." Briallen stood. "No, I was just leaving. If Gillen Yor finds me still here, he'll raise bloody hell. He's a little territorial." She bent over and kissed me on the cheek. We looked at each otiier in silence for a moment, small smiles on our faces.

She turned and nodded at Keeva. Keeva lowered her gaze and bowed as though she were at court. It was nice to know she respected somebody. She waited until Briallen was gone before she dropped herself into the armchair. She placed an envelope on her lap.

"I thought you died," I said. She looked like hell. Not as pale as Briallen, but definitely not her usual vibrant self.

She gave me a disgusted look. "That spell you gave me ricocheted and bound me into the damn wall." I suppressed a smile. Of all methods I had envisioned torturing Keeva with over the years, trapping her in a wall hadn't come up. She ran a hand through her hair. "Fortunately, the binding broke when you killed the Fomorian." f I tried to sound reasonable. "So, I did a good thing."

"And when the seawall fell, I got sucked out into the harbor in the backlash. I had no energy left to fly, and it took me three hours to swim back in."

'Trapped in a wall and swept out to sea.Bad day." I lost the battle with the smile. We both laughed. It felt good. "I thought you died, too," she said.

"I don't know why I didn't."

She grew very serious. "Never question life, Connor. Question its point all you want, but not life itself."

"So now you're a philosopher, too?"

"I'm just saying we don't always get to know why things work out the way they do." She opened the envelope, pulled a picture out, and handed it to me. It was a black-and-white of a crowded street. One figure's face was circled.Gethin macLorcan.

"That was taken inMunich early last fall," Keeva said. "He lived there with his mother. That's her next to him." Gerda Alfheim looked tall and elegant just standing in a long dark coat. Her eyes had a furtive look but she didn't seem aware of the photographer. I didn't particularly go in for elves, but I could see why macDuin had been attracted to her.

"As a known terrorist, Gerda Alfheim was under surveillance. From what macDuin told me, Gerda lured him toGermany because Gethin was dying. MacDuin refused to help with the blood ritual. It was all a ruse though. They knew he would refuse. Gethin secretly came here while Lorcan was there, somehow got his hands on some passwords, and gained access to the Guildhouse. He stole the stones and a couple of old grimoires."

"So why didn't macDuin tell anyone?"

"Because of the FeySummit .Maeve appointed macDuin to appease the Teutonic Consortium. He was afraid he would be implicated in the murders, and the elves would use fairies sympathetic to their cause to start an insurgency against Maeve and ruin theSummit . He really had given up his superior race politics. He was protecting Maeve. He wanted peace. It took a long time for people to believe that and trust him. But that's not why that photo was taken. Take a look between them at the face in the background." I held the photo up. Someone stood just beyond Gethin, mostly hidden by him, but about three-quarters of his profile was in view. My jaw dropped, and I looked at Keeva.

She nodded. "That's definitely Bergin Vize."

I let the photo fall and stared up at the ceiling. The stupid smiley face grinned back at me and winked. I made a mental note to kill Meryl after I stopped laughing.

"If you remember, macDuin was in the same terrorist cell as Vize during the war. That's how he met Gerda. But I don't think macDuin knew about the Fomorian spell. The Guild thinks it was Vize's idea."

"So this whole thing was about Bergin Vize trying to kill me again?" Keeva laughed in surprise. "You weren't even supposed to be involved. You're on disability, remember?

Vize had no way of knowing you would be at the fort."

"He must not be very happy with me right now."

"No, I don't think so. In fact, we have extra security on you. Both he and Gerda are nowhere to be found."

I sighed. "I just don't understand why they hate the world so much that they would destroy it."

"They don't see it that way, Connor. Their world has already been destroyed. They're trying to restore it, and themselves, to its former glory. If it takes releasing some of the most heinous beings that ever walked, so be it."

I looked right into her eyes. "What I don't understand is why you helped cover it up." She straightened up indignantly. "I didn't cover up anything. I thought I was working on a missing person case for my boss. MacDuin used me."

"And macDuin knew just the right ass-kisser to ask."

She stood and glared down at me. "You sound awfully cocky for someone who gave me a spell that almost killed me.

"Maybe I wouldn't have almost died if you had memorized it better." "Maybe I wouldn't have had to memorize it if you had told me what was going on sooner."

A nasty retort bubbled up to my lips. I clamped my mouth shut and closed my eyes. "You're right," I said. The look on her face was priceless. "If I had asked for your help sooner, maybe we could have saved some lives."

She looked down at her feet. "It's not easy for people like us to ask for help." I smiled. I had had my suspicions for days. Only someone from the Guild would know Meryl's filing system, and I knew it wasn't likely macDuin was giving me hints. "You left the ogham runes on my door and on Murdock's car."

She fidgeted. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do. You wanted me to help but you wouldn't come right out and ask. In fact, I think you were following me all this time to see if I came up with anything. I led you to Corcan, and he led you to Gethin, didn't he? That's how you caught him!"

She sighed heavily and stood. "Anyway, I just stopped by to let you know the whole story. MacDuin suspended the Bergen Vize investigation, probably after he saw mat picture. The new Community Liaison Officer is opening it up again."

"And that would be... ?"

She walked to the door and threw a smile over her shoulder as she left."The ass-kisser, who else?" Leave it to Keeva to find a way to climb the corporate ladder in the midst of disaster. At least she knew that I knew she owed me a favor now. That's always helpful with recalcitrant Guild members. Stinkwort sat up and stretched. "Hell, is she gone yet?"

"You know she is. And I know you woke up ten minutes ago."

He walked to the edge of the bed scratching his butt. "The 'new Community Liaison Officer' wouldn't know a sleeping flit from one jumping up her nose." He fluttered over to the nightstand and stuck his head in my water glass. "You gave a pretty awesome display at the fort." He pulled his head out and shook water out of his hair. He sat down and grinned. "Yeah, I did, if I say so myself."

"So what happened after you left?"

He made himself comfortable on the nightstand. "Man, I haven't been to a blast like that since the old days. Maeve throws a mean party."

"I meant Gethin, Joe."

He shrugged. "Oh. Maeve was happy to see him in a pissed-as-hell kind of way. After she pulled his wings off with her bare hands, she had him beheaded. Then we had the party." I figured as much. Maeve had worked hard to keep things peaceful with the elves, to say nothing of all the murders Gethin had committed. Fairy justice was swift and often final.

"Why so quiet? I thought you'd be happy."

I looked at him. "I am, sort of. I don't feel bad for him at all. I just wish it never happened. Maybe if I had stopped Bergin Vize two years ago, it wouldn't have."

Stinkwort rolled his eyes. "Here we go again."

"No, really, Joe. Like it or not, in some way, Bergin Vize is my responsibility."

"So what do you want to do about it?"

I smirked at him. "I think after I get back on my feet, I might need a vacation. How would you like to see theBlack Forest ?"

[Firstof3 11-3-07]