and hustled in the opposite direction to the back stairwell. Someone moved on the landing below us, then Tibbet’s essence tickled at my senses. We descended to the first floor.
Tibbet didn’t look at us when we turned the corner. She leaned against the wall, trying to see something out the window. She had a headset on. Her face was not something you want to see in a brownie. Her cheekbones and eye ridges had become more prominent. The hand that rested on the windowsill had elongated fingers tipped with nascent claws. She was not far from going boggie.
“What’s the status?” I asked.
She held up a hand as the headset whispered. “Aerial support is gone. Front gate and lawn perimeter down.”
“What about Eagan?” I asked.
“His bedroom is sealed. Not even Maeve can get in there. The front of the house is breached. Let’s move.” She led us back up the second-floor corridor. A brownie in a house uniform waited outside Eagan’s bedroom. She wasn’t regular security, but her calm manner despite the boggart signs of long claws and teeth told me that Tibbet hired multiskilled cleaning staff. At the far end, a brownie in full boggart mode guarded access from the staircase.
Inside Eagan’s bedroom, Tibbet hurried to the window. “We’ve been co-opted, but the silent alarms triggered.”
“What the hell is going on?”
She did look at me then. “I don’t know. Sendings are being jammed. They’re either after that stone ward or you. Those are the two main variables here.”
“Gee, thanks,” said Shay.
Tibbet glanced at him. “Since you’re the only one who can carry the ward, I wouldn’t be too disappointed.”
“Pack the bowl, Shay. We’re getting out of here,” I said.
Tibbet moved to the opposite window. “That might not be possible. The Danann security agents have vanished. They were on a regular rotation through the Guildhouse. The house guards are our staff. Except for the two outside, they’re either nonresponsive or dead. It will be at least fifteen minutes before major backup support responds to the failed system. Get Shay to the greenhouse. I can cover you from here.”
Shay adjusted the straps on his messenger bag. “Are you kidding? That place looks like I can kick it over.”
“Glass and iron. It’ll screw up whatever’s coming down,” Tibbet said.
“We’re not leaving you alone,” I said.
Shadows accentuated the changes in her face. She was not the concerned brownie anymore but the cold boggart. “This is major opposition, Connor. We need to separate the potential targets. I can hold the house for a while. There’s a bunker under the greenhouse. The door is under the rug.”
“You have a greenhouse with a bunker?” Shay said.
Tibbet smiled. “And a tunnel and a few booby traps. There’s a car at the end of it.”
“That’s preparation,” he said.
She leaned over Eagan’s sleeping body, placing a hand on his forehead. “I throw a mean party, too. Get moving.”
I grabbed her. “Tibs.”
I stared into eyes tinged with a feral red light. “Go. Now,” she rasped.
I kissed her. Grabbing Shay by the arm, I hustled him out of the room. The brownie guard outside the door was gone. Sounds of a struggle echoed up the back stairs. We ran for the grand staircase on the opposite end of the house. The brownie that waited there had gone full boggie, but had not lost his senses. Tibs had some amazing staff. He growled as we approached and scampered down the stairs ahead of us.
“Don’t leave my side for a second,” I said to Shay.
We waited in the gloom. The boggart moved through the great hall at an astonishing speed. He returned to the base of the stairs and waved us down.
“There are French doors at the back of the hall, Shay. The greenhouse is a straight shot across the lawn from there. Keep low and do not stop,” I said.
He clutched the stone ward against his chest. “They can’t take the bowl, right? Why don’t we leave it somewhere and get out?”
“Because they’ll find it and figure the geasa out eventually, and we’ll never see it again. I don’t want to think about something that powerful being in the hands of whoever is out there. Get going before we can’t get out,” I said.
A muffled explosion shook the house as the attackers dropped any pretense of stealth. We ran around the stuffed elephant and into the back alcove. Through the windows in the doors, the greenhouse loomed in the darkness, its skeletal frame a dull white against the backdrop of tall cedars.
I activated my body shield, enveloping Shay in its protection. Another explosion from the right shivered against the glass doors. Shredded essence floated across the back lawn, the remains of barrier shields that had been disabled. Without the wards anchoring them, their energy dissipated in the night air. Here and there at the far end of the property, pools of essence indicated the passage of Danann fairies and brownie security. From that distance, I couldn’t identify specific signatures.
Something moved across the grass, a dark shadow pierced by glowing red eyes. The shadow resolved into the shape of Uno. He had grown enormous, his legs almost three feet long and his muzzle as wide. He trotted toward the greenhouse and stopped next to the door, settling on his haunches.
Frightened, Shay leaned back against me. “Why is he here, Connor?”
“Uno has never hurt us, Shay,” I said.
“It’s not him I’m worried about,” he said.
“He’s waiting for us. Fifty yards, tops. Are you ready?”
He moved to my side. “You’ve got longer legs than I do. Don’t leave me behind.”
“I won’t,” I said.
I took his arm to reassure him. We moved out the door, crouching across the pavers and onto the grass. Essence-fire flashed and burned, more warning shots than directed blasts. We started to run, closing the distance to the greenhouse.
Gunfire erupted from the back lawn. I wasn’t expecting guns, a rookie mistake. The fey came at each other with essence, not bullets. My body shield shifted and folded as bullets grazed it, the force of impact knocking us apart. I shoved Shay to the ground among low shrubbery.
Shay’s messenger bag flew free as he tumbled, its contents spilling out. The stone bowl rolled onto the grass. Instinctively, I grabbed it, surprised that it moved at my touch, my fingers slipping across wet stone. I lifted my hand. Blood covered the palm. I was sore from my shield contracting, but I wasn’t bleeding. I cradled the bowl against my side and crawled toward Shay.
More shots fired, turf spitting into the air around us. Shay kept his head down, not reacting. I shook his shoulder. “Are you hit, Shay?”
He didn’t move. I pushed against his side, rolling him onto his back. His eyes fluttered open. “Connor,” he whispered. Blood oozed from his lips.
My hands came away with more blood as I searched his chest and stomach. “Dammit. Where are you hit, Shay?”
Uno howled, an unearthly wail that shot fear up my spine. He lumbered toward us, howling louder—and growing bigger.
“He looks so beautiful.” Shay’s voice echoed with moisture.
“Hang on, Shay. I’ll get you out of here,” I said.
As I leaned over him, placing the bowl against his chest, I gathered him in my arms. Uno barreled into me, pinning me on my back, his muzzle looming over me, huge and foul. Snarling, he backed away, then shifted his bulk over Shay. He opened his mouth—and opened it and opened it—a huge maw of shadow spreading over Shay. Lowering his head, Uno wrapped his jaws around him, knocking the stone ward bowl to the ground.
I scrambled to my feet. “No!”
I leaped, slamming into Uno’s flank. I flopped away like I had hit a brick wall. Uno lifted his head, Shay
