In one night, the situation accelerated. Scott Murdock, Leo’s father, shot at me. Eagan blasted him with essence, and Scott Murdock died. The effort almost killed Eagan. He collapsed and had been in a coma ever since, his disease accelerating. It was a miracle he was alive, but it was only a matter of time before he died.
Eagan’s condition baffled Gillen Yor, the foremost druid healer in the world. The night Scott Murdock died, Gillen found a partial answer, which led to a deeper puzzle. Eagan was suffering from the same thing I was—a darkness inside that devoured essence. His version seemed more diffused, speckled throughout his body. If he hadn’t been a Danann, the darkness probably would have consumed him, but his powerful innate body essence kept it at bay. When he fired an essence blast at Scott Murdock, he depleted his natural reserve beyond the point of no return.
When I examined Druse’s body at the Guildhouse, I realized that Eagan’s condition mirrored hers. The leanansidhe resisted the darkness by feeding it essence. When she didn’t have living essence available, she used the stone bowl. I had used the bowl, so I knew it suppressed the darkness. It didn’t eliminate the problem—the thing in my head was much bigger than what I had seen in either Eagan or the leanansidhe—but it helped me function. With Eagan’s more powerful body signature, I hoped the bowl would burn the darkness out of him.
My senses picked up a thin streak of Danann essence against the night sky. My ride had arrived. He took his time coming in—too fast, and he would attract attention—and kept his body essence reined in so that it wouldn’t flare. I spotted him because I was looking for him. He rode the wind currents, his translucent wings shifting around him. The wings didn’t provide lift. They weren’t strong enough. They acted like airfoils, shunting essence away from the body to power a fairy’s flight.
Satisfied that he wasn’t followed, he shut down his essence and plunged toward me. In one smooth motion, he grabbed me by the straps on my jumpsuit and lifted me in the air. Now that he had his passenger, he fired up his essence and shot south at full speed. My body shield tempered the force of the motion, but some wind leaked through and made my eyes tear.
Several streaks of essence burst from the surrounding buildings as other fairies investigated our odd movements. The Danann lost most of them with small effort but dove to street level a few times to shake off the fastest of the pursuers. Several miles later, he slowed to a more comfortable speed and banked northwest toward Brookline. Without further incident, he dropped me off on the front steps of Eagan’s mansion and disappeared into the night.
Tibbet opened the door as I stepped up, a smile failing to hide her worry. She was Eagan’s everywoman—assistant, attorney, administrator, and defender. She was also one hot brownie, tall for her species, with a tawny complexion that set off her warm eyes. Tibs and I were old friends and shared the intimacy of old lovers who had parted on good terms. She hugged me, her long, tiny braids tickling my nose. “Hey, handsome,” she said.
“Hello, gorgeous,” I said.
She took my hand and led me inside. I slipped my arm around her. She rested her head against my shoulder. “It’s hard to see him like this.”
“Has there been any change?” I asked.
“None of it good. Did Gillen tell you what happened?”
“No. He just said to come,” I said.
“I was dozing in the chair last night, and he sent your name to me. It was faint but clear,” she said.
“Just my name?” I asked.
“Yes. I contacted Gillen because it was the only sign of life from him in months. He’s still in there, Connor. He’s not gone,” she said.
I hugged her close. Tibbet had been with Eagan for longer than I had been alive. She kept his life running, and he kept her life interesting. If I couldn’t imagine either of them without the other, I couldn’t imagine what Tibs thought. “He’s a tough old crow, Tibs. Anyone else would have given in by now.”
She nodded into my shoulder. “I tell myself that every day since he fell ill. I almost lost you both that night, and when it happened again, I feared the worst.”
We swayed back and forth as I caressed her hair. The night Scott Murdock died, Tibs had been amazing. She took immediate control of the situation, dealing with the police, taking care of Eagan, and protecting me. She had stood up to the angry Murdock brothers, the governor, and the acting police commissioner, and coordinated medical care, all in the space of hours. As I reflected back on that night, I paused. “Tibs, what do you mean ‘again’?”
She pulled away, wiping tears from her face. “The Solstice Party. I thought I was going to lose the two of you.”
I stared down at her. “You said ‘again,’ Tibs. What do you mean ‘again’?”
She brushed hair back from my forehead. “The night you fought Bergin Vize at the nuclear plant.”
“Eagan fell ill that same night?” I asked.
Her eyebrows drew down together. “Yes. It was chaos. I was getting sendings about your being in critical condition. People from the Guildhouse couldn’t reach Manus. I thought he was ignoring everyone because he was concerned about you, but when I went to check in with him, I found him collapsed here in the grand hall.”
“What did he say?”
She shrugged. “Nothing. Refused to talk about it.”
“How come I didn’t know this?” I asked.
She gave me a wry smile. “You were in the hospital for weeks. We had to deal with the state authorities because of the power grid going down. Time…. I don’t know…. passed. I guess by the time you woke up, it didn’t seem important when things happened. Keeva never mentioned it?”
“She knew?”
“Sure. She was here that night—complaining about you, as a matter of fact. She said you weren’t supposed to be there. Is that true?”
“Yes. I’d forgotten,” I said. Keeva was supposed to take the lead on the next Vize appearance. When we were partners, we used to argue about who was leading an investigation, so we agreed that we would take turns. When we had word Vize might be in the Boston area, I couldn’t resist. He had gotten away from me before, then he was on my home turf. I held back information from Keeva and went to the nuclear power plant alone. I didn’t remember thinking that was stupid then.
Tibbet frowned. “You sound so suspicious, Connor. What’s going on?”
“Think about it, Tibs. Whatever happened to me that night gave me the dark mass in my head, and Eagan went down with it the same night. Don’t you think that’s more than coincidence?”
“Sure, now that you point it out. I never made the connection.”
I looked at the bed. “The bigger question is why didn’t Eagan?”
She glanced up at the balcony above the main hall. “I don’t know. I miss the old grouch complaining about everything. I’d even pour him a drink if he opened his eyes.”
Eagan had a thing for whiskey that was more than a thing. It didn’t appear to be debilitating, but I often wondered if his Danann constitution saved him from alcoholism even as it was a cause. “And I’d join you,” I said.
“Gillen and Briallen are already here. Your friend should be along shortly.”
I kissed her hand. “Thanks, Tibs. Let’s hope this works.”
“Go on up. I’ll join you shortly,” she said.
I climbed the stairs in the great hall, curving around a stuffed Asian elephant until I came level with the John Singer Sargent portrait of Maeve on the opposite wall. I always looked at it. It was impossible not to—larger-than-life, her commanding stare daring you to look away. If everything went well upstairs, she’d soon have a new thorn in her side, and it would please me to no end that I helped put it there.
In his bedroom off the second-floor corridor, Manus ap Eagan lay against soft white sheets surrounded by brocade pillows in shades of silver and blue. He was on his side, his knees drawn up to his waist. His long wings had gone stiff, curling forward around his body like a shroud, a sign of death among fairies. I had seen something like it before though not in someone as powerful as a Danann.