“Did we miss a turn, or is it an illusion?” Murdock asked.
I stepped up to the end wall. “The rider’s essence ends here. It’s a glamour.” I placed my left hand against the wall and pushed. The concrete bent under the pressure, and my hand slipped through.
“Do I hold my breath or what?” Murdock asked.
“Geez, we were invited, remember?” Meryl said. Without hesitation, she walked through the wall.
“I didn’t get the invitation,” Murdock said.
“Door glamours aren’t that thick. Hang on to my arm and step through without stopping. You’ll be fine,” I said.
He gripped my arm by the triceps, leaving his gun hand free. “I’m sure Gerda Alfheim was told the exact same thing right before the wall ate her,” he said.
The glamour tingled cool over my body as we slid through the illusion to join Meryl. On the other side, light and sound startled me. Murdock was even more surprised than I was. We hadn’t heard anything from the street.
A makeshift market sprawled through a cavernous space. Essence-powered lanterns hanging from scaffolding and fire escapes illuminated a winding path through canvased stalls and tents. Herbs and essence spiced the air, and unseen musicians weaved spelled tunes meant to encourage relaxation and camaraderie. The crowd spanned the various fey folk races, with a notable number of dwarves and minor clan elves. A dwarf paused in front of us and bowed with formal courtesy. “My apologies the Hunt gave you trouble. We did not know you were favored. I have been asked to escort you.”
Without waiting for a reply, he led us through the tents. The main aisle followed an abandoned trolley track bed. Vendors eyed us, but no one made an attempt to solicit. “People seem intent on the door we came in,” Murdock said.
“I think they’re worried about who’s coming through next,” I said.
“Or isn’t,” he said.
His comment made me remember the screams up the street. “We don’t know what happened back there.”
“Something tells me we won’t either,” he said.
At the end of the vendor stalls, stone constructions jutted from the walls and rose into shadow. From glimpses through open doors, some had the look of barracks about them, compact bedding in rows and bunks. Other build-outs were more private, even elaborate. True to the abilities of dwarves, not a speck of mortar was visible in the joinings of the structures. At the back end, the outcroppings were decorated with carvings of wildlife and trees.
Another glamour blocked the way, radiating a green essence of complex alarm spells and resistance shielding. The dwarf walked through it, his presence triggering another spell that opened the wall as if someone had pulled aside a curtain. Beyond was an enclosed room, a long, narrow space like an audience chamber, lit with torches. A single chair faced us from the far end. The dwarf knocked on a door behind the chair, then stepped aside and waited.
The rider emerged, wearing the long maroon cape I had seen earlier. Back in the street, I assumed I couldn’t see his face because of the poor lighting, but now it was obvious that a glamour masked the front of the helm. In any other context, stag antlers and burning red eyes would have generated giggles, but in the shadowed room, they looked damned eerie. A formidable body shield guarded that side of the room.
Drop your shields, the rider sent.
“Well, well, well,” Meryl said. Amused, she dropped her shield.
“No,” said Murdock.
His answer surprised the dwarf, but the rider made no move. We regarded each other until the rider’s shield wavered and collapsed. Since you do not have your weapon pointed at me this time, I suppose I shall take that as courtesy, Detective.
The rider reached up and removed the helm. Two long, thick braids of red hair tumbled from within as the glamour deactivated. The rider threw back one side of the cape, revealing a formfitting red leathered armor. Ceridwen sat in the chair and propped the helm on the arm. “My apologies for what happened to you a few days ago, Grey. The Hunt should have recognized my ring.”
In life, Ceridwen had been a powerful member of the Seelie Court. As an underQueen, she helped decide on who would be High Queen or could campaign for it herself. Maeve sent her to investigate me and Meryl about our role in a different catastrophe. That was the cover story. It turned out she was tracking rumors that Bergin Vize was about to launch an attack on Maeve. The rumors were true, and Ceridwen ended up Dead.
After she died, she surprised me by showing up at my door. She gave me a ring, in token of a promise we made to each other to take Maeve down. “I wasn’t wearing it. I didn’t want to invite questions.”
Annoyed, she shifted in her seat. “That ring represents a great promise, Grey. I trust it has not been tossed in some forgotten drawer.”
“In this neighborhood? Are you kidding? I don’t even leave lottery tickets at my place.” I unsnapped the boot sheath that held my old dagger and slipped the ring off the leather strap. I held it up. “It’s safe.”
Meryl leaned in. “She gave you a ring? You didn’t tell me she gave you a ring.”
I nudged her with my elbow. “Behave.”
Ceridwen rose with her hand out. I dropped the ring onto her palm. Melancholy flitted across her features as she touched it. It was a fine band of gold set with a large carnelian. She reached for my left hand and slipped the ring on my pinkie finger. “This will keep you safe from the Hunt. They will sense it and know you for a friend. You can use it to seek my audience at any time. It cannot be removed without my blessing.”
I tugged at the ring. It wouldn’t budge. “I can’t wear this, Ceridwen. Maeve is already threatening to arrest me for your murder. I don’t need her adding robbing the Dead to the charges.”
Ceridwen returned to her chair. “The ring remains. It is glamoured from sight. Someone might sense it, but no one will see it.”
Meryl crossed her arms and tapped her foot. “Now you’re wearing her ring.”
I glowered. “Knock it off.”
She huffed, pretending to be annoyed. “Fine.”
“What’s this all about, Ceridwen?” I asked.
She leaned back. “I’m building an army, Grey.”
“An army,” I said.
“A reckoning is coming, Grey. Maeve is losing the support of the full Seelie Court. I will have it known how she betrayed me,” she said.
“In the meantime, you’re kidnapping people,” said Murdock.
Ceridwen glanced at him with unconcealed disdain. Murdock had pulled his gun on her once. First impressions were lasting. “No one is here against his will, Detective. We give everyone a choice. Safety with me or a pawn in Eorla’s war with the Elven King.”
“Sounds more like they’re pawns either way,” said Murdock.
“My people will always have a choice. The elves do not understand that concept,” she said.
“You’ve never met Eorla Elvendottir,” I said.
“You said you would stand by me, macGrey,” she said.
“I did. And I will. This isn’t the time.”
“I disagree. Eorla’s people are hunting us down. Her people have harassed mine throughout the neighborhood.” She tilted her head in consideration.
“Those are Donor’s people. He’s trying to create confusion down here,” I said.
Ceridwen narrowed her eyes. “Why would Donor care? His problem is Maeve.”
“Then why was Gerda Alfheim embedded in one of your glamoured walls? She works for Donor, not Eorla or Maeve,” I said.
The dwarf made a noise that drew my attention. He tried to cover the reaction by feigning disinterest. “Who is this, by the way?” I asked.
“This is my security chief, Nar Veinseeker,” Ceridwen said.
Murdock and I exchanged glances. “He’s who Donor’s been after, Ceridwen,” I said.
Ceridwen cocked her head at Nar. “Explain.”
Nar remained still for a long moment. “I had no knowledge of this, m’lady. My intent has been to secure our facilities as requested.”