Essence surged through me, an electric thrill as every nerve ending in my body fired at once. My body ignited, brilliant flows of golden light and power coursing through pathways long lost. Connections joined, strengthened, and merged, building within me. Tears sprang to my eyes. I was free of pain. I was free of the darkness and the pain. I was free. My abilities churned inside me with renewed life. I was whole again. I was a druid again.
Maeve crouched against the far wall, utter shock on her face.
“Game’s over, Maeve,” I said. This time, I knew it with a clarity beyond doubt. She couldn’t touch me anymore.
She recovered, the haughty pinch of condescension slipping back onto her face. “You’re not half the druid you once were.”
Bergin Vize’s face arose in my mind, his face in the darkness as he made his ultimate sacrifice. He gave up his life to me, so that our soul would heal as one, two halves rejoining after a century of separation. “Is that supposed to be a bad joke?”
A harsh sound of derision slipped from her. “How coarse you have become, how disappointing.”
Memories fluttered through my mind, still fragments, unsorted vestiges of the past. I wasn’t quite sure who I was once, but I doubted I was any more patient than whoever I used to be. I stood. “I’ll be going now.”
“No, you won’t. I will have what I demand,” she said.
I created a sending in my mind, marveling at the ease of something so simple after so long. I cast it out, calling to Eorla for help. Maeve tilted her head, no doubt sensing it, then smiled as the sending shredded in the air. I shot a burst of essence from my hand into the ceiling. The masonry cracked and shed to the floor, exposing glass sheathing.
“The room is shielded,” she said. “No one will hear you. Now, let’s sit and discuss the matter.”
I needed to draw essence from something organic, but the sterile room offered nothing. “Now you want to talk? My how your tune changes. So civil now that you need cooperation instead of coercion.”
Maeve resumed her seat and leaned on her hand as if bored. “Sit.”
I snorted. “Shall I beg, too? Roll over?”
The spear glittered in my mind, its spark warm against my body signature. Its power seemed unlimited, a sliver of the Wheel of the World itself. Meryl had said to me once that she didn’t think anything could prevent the spear from going where it desired. But Maeve had shown she could pull it away from me without effort. She knew how to use it better than I did. That didn’t mean she had complete control of it.
“Sit,” said Maeve. She was calm, used to her orders being followed.
I stepped toward the empty chair facing her, acting as if I was going to comply. With the snap of mental command, I called the spear. It blazed in my hand, there and not there, a thing of solid light and essence. Startled, Maeve thrust out her hand, a moment too late, as I threw the spear. It punctured the glass even as it vanished and appeared in her hand.
She leaned back, clutching the spear with her own power. I wasn’t going to get it back anytime soon. “It matters not. This compound is well guarded. I have no fear of whatever rabble you summon if they even live. The area from which you were taken has been neutralized. There is no one left.”
I sat facing her, my mind racing for options. “And you’re proud of that? For that alone, you convince me not to cooperate at all.”
“Then I will flay you alive and keep you alive until you give me what I seek,” she said.
A vibration shuddered through the room, subtle at first, then steady. I cocked my head, listening to the tension of essence in the air. “I think some rabble has arrived.”
She flicked her hand. “It is being dealt with.”
The vibrations increased. Maeve glanced at the ceiling as cracks formed in the glass. Her eyebrows drew together as she built an added layer of protection above us. I had no idea what was going on, but neither did she. “You’re not looking so confident there, Maeve. Why don’t we go see what’s going on?”
She flexed her fingers, tossed a binding spell on me. As it draped over me, I shifted my shield and flung the spell away. Flexing old ability muscles felt good. Maeve ignored me, focusing on the fracturing glass overhead.
The room trembled, the glass ceiling creaking and cracking into smaller and smaller pieces. Fragments dusted down, settling on the barrier spell, drifting through it in slow motion. They hit the floor with a sharp patter, like crystallized raindrops.
The ceiling split with a concussive force of air. Maeve stood, still calm, still holding the spear as the crack widened. The masonry curled upward like a lid being peeled off a can. Dust rained down, obscuring our sight, but I glimpsed patches of night sky and flashes of white light.
With a resounding boom, the ceiling shattered and flew upward, exposing the room to the outside. A brilliant sphere of essence hovered overhead, the shape of a Danann fairy inside it burning bright.
Manus ap Eagan lowered to the height of the room, his muscled frame no longer frail. His face—sunken and worn for three years—had regained its hawklike sharpness, his dark eyes smoldering with red heat. He hovered outside Maeve’s barrier with a wolfish grin on his face.
Nice to see you, Guildmaster, I sent.
And you, Grey. Prepare to flee. This is an extraction only, he replied.
“Release your prisoner, Maeve, and submit to my authority,” Eagan said.
“This is treason, Manus. I shall post your head on my gate,” she said.
“The Seelie Court will know the full weight of your transgressions against me and all our people,” he said.
Maeve reared back to throw the spear. I grabbed it by the end, feeling it slick and electric in my hand. Maeve whirled to face me, and the spear slid toward her. “Do you think you can best me?” she asked.
I tightened my grip, using my body essence. “Not really.”
I was tempted to jump away, but she would come with me. I wasn’t strong enough to fight her alone, and wherever I jumped, I would be alone with her. I raised my hand and let my body become a conduit for the essence from the spear. I shot a bolt of essence at the barrier above us. Eagan matched my bolt with another from above. The barrier rippled and shredded.
Maeve yanked the spear out of my hand and pointed it at me. “Don’t think I won’t kill you. I’ve waited a hundred years for this moment.”
I reached into my mind and saw the sword, burning bright with essence. The air crackled with ozone as I materialized it in my hand. The blade had changed. No longer pure metal, it glistened with essence, the runes illuminated with light. At the base of the blade, the faith stone formed part of the cross guard, the blade itself passing through the heart-shaped blue crystal.
Green elf-shot blasted a gaping hole in the floor between us. Eorla descended through Eagan’s protective shield, her evergreen coat flaring around her. She landed beside me, her skin aglow with emerald light. “You have much to answer for, High Queen,” she said.
Maeve smiled. “I didn’t answer to Donor. I won’t to you.”
“We shall see.” Eorla wrapped her arm around me and swept me off my feet. Maeve fired as we rose through the roof, her shot rocking against our shields. She fired again, and we skittered sideways as Eagan returned fire.
We flew above the roofline, rising into a sky lit with battle. Boston City Hall sprawled below us, its massive concrete structure defended by Danann fairies. Archers from the Consortium ringed the brick plaza around the building, raining elf-shot into the confused whirl of Dananns.
Eagan spun around us, his massive wings primed with essence. It was thrilling to see him back in peak form. He hovered above the hole in the roof, staring down at Maeve. This isn’t over, Maeve.
He released a spherical burst of essence that knocked away the Dananns above, and we soared into the night sky, followed by Maeve’s scream of rage.