Manus ap Eagan’s study but his bedroom. He lay propped on several pillows, his wings spread flat and wide to either side. A bare glimmer of essence flickered in their gray gossamer, startlingly feeble for a powerful Danann like Eagan. Nigel Martin sat in an oversize leather club chair to the left, his imperious academic face touched with annoyance. Normally, Nigel maintained a calm air about himself, a cultivated look designed to give his emotional moments more impact. Opposite him, a tall, dark-haired druidess leaned against the bedpost, her head tilted to emphasize the flirtatiousness in her smile. A long mohair sweaterdress managed to show off a body to go with the flirt. Her eyes widened briefly when she saw me enter. I took it as a compliment.
Eagan appeared worse than when I had seen him two months earlier. His long dank hair clung to his pale face, his sunken eyes shadowed. He grinned, a vulpine slash that would have unnerved anyone who didn’t realize he was ill. Reports of his declining health were far from exaggeration. He hadn’t been in the Guildhouse for any length of time in more than three months and had reduced his activities long before that. “Grey! Come in. I’ve been provoking Nigel all afternoon and was running out of ideas. Can you carry on for a bit while I take a nap?”
I stopped at the foot of the bed. “Nothing would please me more, Guildmaster.”
Eagan’s eyebrows shot up. He started laughing, but then coughed from deep in his chest. The druidess placed a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off. Wiping his mouth with a handkerchief, he smirked at Nigel. “I’m not sure he’s joking, old friend.”
Nigel kept his eyes on Eagan. “Yes, well, Grey’s thought process eludes me as well these days.”
I pursed my lips. “Really, Nigel? After you took a shot at me, I would think my thoughts about you would be fairly obvious.”
Eagan’s smile broadened. “You shot at him? Why, Nigel, you’ve been demanding I take you into my confidence all day, and yet only now I’m finding out you attempted to murder one of my staff. How utterly hypocritical of you.”
Nigel met my eyes, his expression unreadable. It could have been anything from regret to indifference. “I make no apologies. The disaster he caused was a result of my failure. And he’s not a Guildsman anymore, Manus, as I’ve reminded you many times today.”
Nigel was my strongest supporter once upon a time. When I lost my abilities, I realized I had been nothing more than a powerful tool to him. I checked my anger, though. I was a guest in the Guildmaster’s house. Causing an argument would be bad manners. Nigel was another person on my list to deal with when the right time and opportunity presented themselves.
The druidess cleared her throat. Manus smiled. “Excuse my manners, Grey. This is the High Queen’s Herbalist, Moira Cashel.”
“Pleased to meet you,” she said.
A little too pleased, I thought. “Connor Grey.”
Eagan slowly adjusted his position on the bed. “Since Gillen Yor’s slipped his leash, Maeve’s worried I’m not being cared for properly, so she sent her gardener to take a look at me. Moira thinks she can put the flutter back in my wings.”
Gillen Yor was High Healer in Boston and not one to take orders from anyone. I allowed myself a small smile at Eagan’s playful leer. “I’m sure you will find your patient challenging.”
She laughed, a musical, charming laugh that oozed insincerity. “I’m sure I’ve had worse.”
Eagan shifted his eyes toward her conspiratorially. “Yes, I’ve seen Maeve when she’s in a mood. Perhaps your charms will play better with me.”
She placed an overly familiar hand on his arm. “You have enough charm for the both of us, Manus. I have only my skills to offer.”
Eagan smiled up at her. “Run along then and find someone to help you make a daisy chain or something we can play with later. The mere thought of your ministrations is already making me feel I will rise to the occasion.”
She tapped his arm like he was a naughty boy. “I will be unpacking my things. Don’t exert yourself any more.” She flashed me a big smile as she left in a smooth, gliding gait.
“Can we get on with whatever your game is, Manus?” Nigel asked.
Eagan chuckled. “Look who’s talking games, you old crow.”
“Why is Connor here?”
Eagan grinned. “Because I like him. He irritates people who need irritating—present company included.”
“Um . . . thanks?” I said.
Eagan used a fresh handkerchief to wipe his forehead. “Let me bring you to the present, Grey. Nigel here has tendered his resignation as my acting Guild alternate so he can go off and do whatever it is he does when he disappears. He wants me to appoint Ryan macGoren as Acting Guildmaster.”
Nigel leaned against the armrest of his chair. “Letting him run the Guild while you recover will please Maeve. You know that, Manus. MacGoren is being groomed for great things.”
MacGoren was a player, an aggressive one. Eagan, I knew, didn’t trust him to answer the phone without a hidden agenda. Eagan’s amusement dropped. “Not by me, he isn’t. Maeve can groom whomever the hell she wants, but she knows damned well the underQueens and -Kings won’t confirm someone I don’t support, and if I don’t recover, as you seem to have overlooked as a possibility, I won’t have my successor picked for me. In fact, I’m not conceding I’m dying, so this is all smoke and mirrors.”
“Whether you’re dying or not is not the issue, Manus,” Nigel said. “The Boston Guildhouse needs strong leadership. You do not have the physical constitution to face the current crises.”
“Keeva macNeve would make a better choice,” Eagan said.
“She’s indecisive and inexperienced and not, I should add, an underQueen,” Nigel said.
“Which means she will think before she acts a helluva lot more than macGoren will,” said Eagan. I laughed aloud. I couldn’t help myself. Eagan nodded. “You see my sense of play,” he said.
Nothing would irritate macGoren more than to be passed over, especially by someone with a lower rank in the Guild—with whom he’d been sleeping. Keeva would be beyond ecstasy to move into a position she wasn’t ready for but undoubtedly thought she deserved.
“We’re letting macGoren run the business end of things anyway, Manus. You’re being petulant,” said Nigel.
“What do you think, Grey?” Eagan asked.
I slid my hands in my pockets and stared down at the floor. “The idea of Keeva as Acting Guildmaster is only slightly less frightening to me than macGoren. Given that choice, I would do nothing until someone better came along.”
A sly look came over Eagan’s face. “You see, Nigel. That’s why I wanted Grey. He has a unique ability to think outside the box.”
Nigel stood. “If something happens to you and there is no successor, you will throw the Guild board into chaos.”
Eagan smiled sweetly. “Then the High Queen’s Herbalist has an enormous responsibility in not letting something happen to me, don’t you think?”
“I have done my best to advise you, Manus. I have business elsewhere,” Nigel said. He nodded, a bare courtesy, and walked stiffly out the door.
Eagan waited until the door closed before laughing. “I do love throwing wrenches in his plans.”
“What are his plans?”
Eagan shrugged. “Nigel has plans within plans within plans. He’s off to Ukraine or Russia or some such. That’s why Maeve sent her spy to replace him.”
That was interesting. “Nigel spies on you for Maeve?”
“To a point. He tells both of us enough to keep him close but not enough to trust him fully.”
“Then why did you have him as your alternate at the Guildhouse?” I asked.
Eagan showed his trademark self-satisfied grin. “Because I knew the last thing Nigel Martin wanted was to be Guildmaster. Why do you think he lets macGoren run the day-to-day operations? Nigel, at least, is one knife that I knew wasn’t pointed at my back.”
Eagan struggled into a seated position and waved his hand toward a large vase on a nearby dresser. “I have a flask in that vase.”
I reached into empty space. “Empty.”
He pointed at the bookcase next to the dresser. “Try behind the Bible. Tibbet won’t touch it.”
I slid the large volume out and found an antique silver flask behind it. Danann fairies had a weakness for alcohol to the point of addiction. I didn’t know if Eagan was an alcoholic, but he liked his whiskey. I handed him the flask. He took a deep draft and handed it back. “I’d offer you a glass, but the house staff will tell Tibbet if they find it.”
I took a swig. “Sounds like you have spies all around you.”
Eagan chuckled. “Indeed, I do. It’s the nature of my life. Which brings me to why I asked to see you.”
I held the flask out, but he waved his hand back toward the bookcase. I hid it again. “I had a feeling you didn’t need my advice on a political decision.”
Eagan smiled. “Don’t underestimate yourself, boy. I actually do like the idea of doing nothing. Right now, though, I need information. The human civil authorities are closing ranks against the fey. I need to know what their thoughts are, what they fear, and what they’re planning to do about it.”
“Why ask me? I’m not privy to that stuff.”
“Leonard Murdock is the son of the police commissioner,” said Eagan.
The statement didn’t exactly rock me back on my heels. Eagan lived in a world of intrigue. For all his comments about Nigel’s plans, he had more than a few of his own, and exploiting resources was second nature to him. “Murdock’s a friend.”
Eagan nodded. “I’m not asking you to do anything you aren’t comfortable with, Grey. I’m saying if an opportunity arises that might allow you to pursue a line of inquiry, that you take it. If you learn something in a way that doesn’t violate any of your moral qualms about loyalty and friendship, then you might feel the need to share with me what you hear.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “And why might I do that?”
A languid ripple flowed through Eagan’s wings, a sluggish movement that revealed how weak he was. “Because I see beneath your attitude, Grey. You don’t like the Guild. You don’t like Maeve, but you still care what happens to the fey. You even care what happens to the humans. You could have walked away from the recent catastrophes, but you stayed. Because you care. Nigel’s a fool for thinking that’s worthless.”
I pursed my lips. “I’ll think about it.”
Eagan closed his eyes and nodded. “Of course, you will. That’s exactly what I want. You may not do what I want, but you will do what you think needs doing. So far, that’s worked in my favor.”
“Really? How?”
He laughed, low and raspy. “Because we’re not all dead, are we?”
I chuckled. “I guess that’s as good an answer as any.”
“Damn right. Tibbet will give you a way to reach me.”
“What if I decide not to do it?” I asked.
Eagan shrugged. “Then you don’t. Part of what I’m relying on is your judgment, Grey. It’s an issue of trust for both of us.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
Eagan’s smile broadened. “It was a pleasure to see you.”
I bowed cordially. “And you, sir.”
I walked the wide expanse of carpet to the door. Eagan called my name, and I paused at the door. He fussed with the covers on the bed, not looking at me. “When you see your friend Murdock, you should ask him with whom he’s been sleeping,” he said.
