Essence hovered over the silent figure in hazy layers of gold and white. Briallen and Gillen tended Eagan from opposite sides of the bed. The layers dipped and swirled, flashing and fading along his wings. At brief intervals, his body signature would flare, then dim again as the essence leached away.
“Grey,” Gillen barked. Despite—and often because of—his gruff manner, people deferred to Gillen. He treated everyone the same, though, both as a healer and an acquaintance. Even Maeve had been subjected to his temper and let it pass. Whatever his personality flaws, Gillen cared about what he did and had little patience for other people’s dramas.
I moved forward with reluctance and stopped at the foot of the bed. The last time I was near Eagan, the darkness in my head had fed the darkness in him. It had intensified in both of us, shooting pain into my brain and almost killing Eagan. I worried that my presence might push him beyond the brink.
Gillen peered down at the patient. “Come on this side.”
I did as he ordered. The essence Briallen generated swirled and shifted away. “Now back slowly away.”
I took one step back at a time until I was against the wall. Gillen tilted his head from side to side, essence light scattering through the halo of gray hair around his bald spot. “That’s enough, Briallen.”
She leaned back in her chair. The essence stream from her dissipated like smoke and evaporated as she withdrew. Eagan hadn’t moved.
“How long have you been doing this?” I asked.
With a tired smile, Briallen rolled her head against the crook of the chair to see me better. “We’ve been taking shifts for a while.”
Gillen grunted as he checked a series of stone wards on the bedside table. “He took a turn for the worse when the Guildhouse came down.”
“He was bound to the building,” I said.
Briallen nodded. “A Guildmaster is bound to his place. A Guildhouse rises and falls on the strength of the Guildmaster.”
“I was hoping proximity to the faith stone would have some effect. It didn’t,” Gillen said.
“What about the darkness? Last time I went near him, it made him worse,” I said.
Gillen shifted stones around on the tray next to the bed. Essence dimmed on some, grew brighter on others. “The faith stone is dampening the effect. I didn’t see any change at all this time.”
“Did you know the faith stone was in the Guildhouse?” I asked.
He frowned. “Why would I? Do I look like a mason?”
Briallen looked up at me. “I don’t think he told anyone about it. If he didn’t mention it to me, I doubt he told Nigel or Maeve.”
I pursed my lips. “That sounds plausible. I’m sure Eagan had no personal agenda he didn’t wish to share.”
Briallen glared at the sarcasm in my voice. “Yes, I’m sure one Guildmaster would have told another Guildmaster, unlike, say, a reckless student who oversteps himself.”
“I’m not a student,” I said.
“And I’m not listening to this,” Gillen said. “If you two need to argue about something, do it somewhere else.”
Briallen and I stared at each other. The silence was broken by a knock on the door, and Tibbet entered. “He’s almost here,” she said.
22
Tibbet and I waited in the dark outside the greenhouse. The grounds lights had been dimmed or extinguished to reduce visibility in case anyone was watching. At the edge of the lawn, shadows darker than their surroundings moved with a glint of light reflecting off chrome helmets. Out of sight, brownie guards roamed the perimeter of the property. Two of them maintained their normal watch in front of the house and another two on the rear patio. Danann security agents patrolled the air, pale traces of essence marking their passage like subtle shooting stars.
“Things seemed a little tense upstairs. Everything all right?” Tibbet asked.
“Yeah. Well, no. Briallen and I are having a disagreement about information-sharing,” I said.
She sighed and leaned against me. “Sometimes all the knowledge in the World can’t change a thing.”
I slipped my hand in hers. “This is going to work, Tibs. I can feel it.”
She shifted on her feet. “They’re here.”
A buzzing sound tickled my ear, the whirr of fairy wings moving at speed. With a gust of wind, two Danann agents appeared above us, holding Shay between them, and lowered him to the ground.
Shay wore black jeans, a long black leather coat, a thick black woolen hat with a rolled brim, and silver goggles. The strap of a messenger bag crossed his chest. With gloved hands, he lifted the goggles and settled them on his forehead. “That…. was…. awesome.”
“I take it there was no trouble?” I asked.
We walked across the lawn toward the house. “They wouldn’t take me over the Hancock Tower, though. That would have been cool.”
Mildly confused, Tibbet glanced at me over Shay’s head. “Secrecy was the point of the trip. There is security all over that area of the city.”
Shay eyeballed me. “She sounds like loads of fun.”
I gave Tibbet an affectionate smile. “I can vouch for her, Shay.”
We entered the house through the side entrance by the library. Shay could not hide his awe, his head swiveling from one side to the other as he took in the expensive furnishings and artwork. “I think you can fit my studio in that fireplace.”
“Old money buys a lot, doesn’t it?” I said, as we climbed the back stairs.
Shay stopped short when we entered the bedroom and he saw the frail body on the bed. He patted the messenger bag. “Except health.”
Gillen waited at the bedside, his face intent as he monitored the wards. “It’s about time. We haven’t got all night.”
Briallen held her hand out. “You must be Shay.”
Shooting me looks of amazement, he took her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Lady Briallen.”
I had traveled among the rich and powerful for so long, I didn’t think about it anymore. It was easy to forget that other people held them in awe. Once you got to know them, though, you realized they were no different than anyone else, luckier than most, their negative character traits exaggerated as much as their positive. Money let them be that way. It didn’t make them nicer people. It just made them rich. People like Eorla and Briallen were exceptions, but I knew that even they used their privileges to get what they wanted in ways the average person never could.
Shay lifted the strap from his chest and placed the bag on the floor. Ripping open the Velcro, he retrieved the stone ward. In the subdued light, the bloodstone bowl shimmered, its green surface rich with the red spots that gave the stone its name. Without any release in the past weeks, a substantial charge had built up on it.
“Put it on the nightstand, boy,” Gillen said.
For once, Shay seemed nervous. He played tough down in the Weird, but in a mansion surrounded by powerful fey—truly powerful—he was out of his element. He did as asked, then stared down at Eagan. “He looks terrible.”
Gillen scowled, then lifted his eyebrows. “Thanks, kid. Now get out of the way.”
Shay stepped back as Gillen leaned over the bowl. He pulled his reading glasses farther down his nose, tilting his head up and down. His hand lit with essence as he caressed the air above the ward. “Does it require direct contact?”
“I’ve seen it…. used it…. with both touch and proximity,” I said.
“Chants? Commands?” he asked.
I shook my head. “It’s ambient.”
Stone wards worked like electrical components—inductors, capacitors, resistors, and the like. Most wards require some catalyst to work—an interaction with an essence field, a spell, or something as simple as sound. A few worked by what druids called ambience, becoming activated by its surroundings or something in its surroundings. The stone bowl worked with whatever essence was at hand, making it ambient.