I stepped toward the empty chair facing her, acting as if I was going to comply. With the snap of mental command, I called the spear. It blazed in my hand, there and not there, a thing of solid light and essence. Startled, Maeve thrust out her hand, a moment too late, as I threw the spear. It punctured the glass even as it vanished and appeared in her hand.
She leaned back, clutching the spear with her own power. I wasn’t going to get it back anytime soon. “It matters not. This compound is well guarded. I have no fear of whatever rabble you summon if they even live. The area from which you were taken has been neutralized. There is no one left.”
I sat facing her, my mind racing for options. “And you’re proud of that? For that alone, you convince me not to cooperate at all.”
“Then I will flay you alive and keep you alive until you give me what I seek,” she said.
A vibration shuddered through the room, subtle at first, then steady. I cocked my head, listening to the tension of essence in the air. “I think some rabble has arrived.”
She flicked her hand. “It is being dealt with.”
The vibrations increased. Maeve glanced at the ceiling as cracks formed in the glass. Her eyebrows drew together as she built an added layer of protection above us. I had no idea what was going on, but neither did she. “You’re not looking so confident there, Maeve. Why don’t we go see what’s going on?”
She flexed her fingers, tossed a binding spell on me. As it draped over me, I shifted my shield and flung the spell away. Flexing old ability muscles felt good. Maeve ignored me, focusing on the fracturing glass overhead.
The room trembled, the glass ceiling creaking and cracking into smaller and smaller pieces. Fragments dusted down, settling on the barrier spell, drifting through it in slow motion. They hit the floor with a sharp patter, like crystallized raindrops.
The ceiling split with a concussive force of air. Maeve stood, still calm, still holding the spear as the crack widened. The masonry curled upward like a lid being peeled off a can. Dust rained down, obscuring our sight, but I glimpsed patches of night sky and flashes of white light.
With a resounding boom, the ceiling shattered and flew upward, exposing the room to the outside. A brilliant sphere of essence hovered overhead, the shape of a Danann fairy inside it burning bright.
Manus ap Eagan lowered to the height of the room, his muscled frame no longer frail. His face—sunken and worn for three years—had regained its hawklike sharpness, his dark eyes smoldering with red heat. He hovered outside Maeve’s barrier with a wolfish grin on his face.
“Release your prisoner, Maeve, and submit to my authority,” Eagan said.
“This is treason, Manus. I shall post your head on my gate,” she said.
“The Seelie Court will know the full weight of your transgressions against me and all our people,” he said.
Maeve reared back to throw the spear. I grabbed it by the end, feeling it slick and electric in my hand. Maeve whirled to face me, and the spear slid toward her. “Do you think you can best me?” she asked.
I tightened my grip, using my body essence. “Not really.”
I was tempted to jump away, but she would come with me. I wasn’t strong enough to fight her alone, and wherever I jumped, I would be alone with her. I raised my hand and let my body become a conduit for the essence from the spear. I shot a bolt of essence at the barrier above us. Eagan matched my bolt with another from above. The barrier rippled and shredded.
Maeve yanked the spear out of my hand and pointed it at me. “Don’t think I won’t kill you. I’ve waited a hundred years for this moment.”
I reached into my mind and saw the sword, burning bright with essence. The air crackled with ozone as I materialized it in my hand. The blade had changed. No longer pure metal, it glistened with essence, the runes illuminated with light. At the base of the blade, the faith stone formed part of the cross guard, the blade itself passing through the heart-shaped blue crystal.
Green elf-shot blasted a gaping hole in the floor between us. Eorla descended through Eagan’s protective shield, her evergreen coat flaring around her. She landed beside me, her skin aglow with emerald light. “You have much to answer for, High Queen,” she said.
Maeve smiled. “I didn’t answer to Donor. I won’t to you.”
“We shall see.” Eorla wrapped her arm around me and swept me off my feet. Maeve fired as we rose through the roof, her shot rocking against our shields. She fired again, and we skittered sideways as Eagan returned fire.
We flew above the roofline, rising into a sky lit with battle. Boston City Hall sprawled below us, its massive concrete structure defended by Danann fairies. Archers from the Consortium ringed the brick plaza around the building, raining elf-shot into the confused whirl of Dananns.
Eagan spun around us, his massive wings primed with essence. It was thrilling to see him back in peak form. He hovered above the hole in the roof, staring down at Maeve.
He released a spherical burst of essence that knocked away the Dananns above, and we soared into the night sky, followed by Maeve’s scream of rage.
43
From the roof of a brownstone building on D Street, I watched thick smoke roll into the night sky toward the east. True to her word, Maeve’s troops had rampaged through the Weird, destroying whatever fell in their path. From Fort Point Channel to Blackhawk Terminal, the air burned an angry orange. Fire-engine lights flickered in a few spots, but not many. The city was protecting vital service locations like the power and sewer plants. It had no choice. The destruction was too widespread. The wind shifted, bringing an acrid stench with it.
The sword had shrunk back to its dagger shape. I held it flat against my palm, staring at it, wondering at the path it had taken to arrive in my possession. The faith stone encased the base of the blade, a cold light burning in the heart-shaped stone. It lit the runes inscribed on the blade, soft blue glimmers that resonated with power and memory.
Despite its beauty, it made me feel shame. The sword and the stone belonged together. Together, they were something greater than their individual parts. Together, they formed the image of the document Meryl found in the Guildhouse archives. Meryl hadn’t been trying to kill me. On some unconscious level, she had understood that the two wards needed to be joined, and Nigel’s compulsion had tried to force her to do it.
I focused my thoughts on a mote of essence in my mind. I visualized Meryl’s body signature, wrapped the sense of it around my thoughts, and pushed them out.
She answered immediately.
A door opened and closed behind me, a brief flash of light sweeping across the roof. Eorla came up beside me, taking in the view. “I’m surprised to see you smile while looking at this.”
“Not that. Just the way life happens,” I said.
Eorla surveyed the burning skyline. “She shows no mercy.”
“Like any true fanatic,” I said.
“Her forces are massing. They’re going after the consulate soon,” she said.
“He saved my life,” I said.
She peered at me, curious and expectant.
I held up my left hand so she could see the gold band. It was Vize’s ring—our ring. When he died in the Gap, his essence transferred into it and bound itself to my flesh. “Bergin saved my life.”
Eorla hugged herself, looking away from me. “Where is he?”
I took her elbow and made her face me. “Under the Guildhouse. He saved my life, Eorla. He said to tell you
