Unbound from the gargoyles, the blue essence fragmented into orbs that stretched and touched the ground. I sang a song of unity, of earth and air that formed living shape. Earth swirled upward, first in a few places, then dozens, then hundreds, maybe thousands of columns of fecund earth. It wasn’t creation, but re-creation, a binding of souls to the material world, to become what they once were.
The columns of earth coalesced, sprouting limbs and heads. Bodies formed, sunburned skins tattooed with lines and circles of blue woad. Clear-eyed men and strong-faced women stared at me through the arches, the blue essence settling within them. They raised their arms, raised high shields and spears and swords, and let out a great shout that echoed with a resounding roar. The humans of Faerie stood restored, alive and unbowed.
A man entered the ring, stout with a drape of cloth over his shoulder belted at the waist. He planted his spear on the ground between us, his deep eyes wary beneath a wide brow pitted with blue swirls.
“My lord has magicked his face, but I still see his nature,” he said.
“Good to see you, too, Virgil,” I said.
He cocked his head. “Does my lord not recognize me?”
“I am no one’s lord now, Cruth. Call me Connor,” I said.
His gaze went to my sword, considering, probably wondering how someone holding such a weapon could not be a lord in his world. We weren’t in his world anymore, though. I was Connor now.
“We have waited as you asked,” he said.
My memory flashed back a century, to a wide plain filled with men and women marching. I remembered fearing that the humans would be helpless in the face of what was to come, powerless against the onslaught of Maeve’s madness, armed with little more than their courage. I remembered thinking I did not want to see them die for a madwoman’s lust for power. I remembered thinking I could save them, protect them from her gaze, hiding their life force in gargoyle-shaped stone. I was wrong. I delayed their fate. The Wheel of the World turns as It will, no matter the hopes of men and women.
“The battle is to be joined, Cruth. I don’t know if I can stop the High Queen’s slaughter. I cannot save anyone, but I can give you a chance to save yourself,” I said.
“The People of the Way have never doubted your heart,” he said.
“You are in a place other than you knew. The humans here are confused. They have great power, but I do not think they will use it against the People of the Way. I need you to keep them from this henge until the matter is settled. I will try to save as many as I can. Will the People of the Way lend me their courage?”
He clenched his fist. “We shall be as bones, bones of the earth, steadfast and eternal,” he said.
“I promise I will try,” I said.
“We hear and hope,” he said.
Cruth withdrew from the henge, shouting to his people. They picked up his call, their voices rising in answer, beating spears against rough shields. The call spread out from the henge, and as one the humans of Faerie marched, their faces set with determination and wonder as National Guard tanks appeared in the surrounding streets. They set their backs to me and their spears to the ground, chanting a war cry of protection. I hoped too many of them didn’t get shot.
As they receded down the hill, a gap among them traveled up through the crowd, like a ship cutting a wave through turbulent seas. Three people appeared in the path, walking side by side. I smiled with gratitude and regret as Dylan, Callin, and Murdock entered the stone circle.
“You didn’t have to come, Dylan,” I said.
He shrugged, no longer wearing the Rand glamour but still in his uniform. “I didn’t have to do a lot of things, Con, but I always had your back.”
Callin looked tired but not weak. His left arm was bound across his chest with bandages, but his head was bare. A thick scar ran across his forehead. “What are you doing out of the hospital, Cal?” I asked.
He grinned, that shit-eating grin that charmed and infuriated. “I heard my little bro picked himself a fight. You didn’t think I’d sit that out, did you?”
“I hoped you would,” I said.
He scratched at his head. “Yeah, well, I never did live up to your expectations.”
A bubble of emotion formed in my chest. I didn’t want to let it break free. With two long strides, I had my arms wrapped around my brother. Even with his one arm, he had a grip like a steel vise. He smelled of wood soot and essence-fire. I kissed him on the side of his neck and whispered in his ear. “You’re the greatest druid in the whole world, big bro.”
He pushed me away, his eyes glassy as he surveyed the Common. “A drink would come in handy about now.”
Murdock and I stared at each other. I didn’t know what to say. After all this time, after everything that had happened, this man stood by my side. He didn’t do it because some crazy dwarf convinced him. He didn’t do it because he was using me as part of some crazy scheme. He did it because he thought it was right. When I was at the worst point in my life, he saw something in me that no one else did, something that made him my friend. I couldn’t explain it. I doubted he could. All I knew was that I had never met anyone who deserved my gratitude more than he did. I held my hand out, and he took it.
A light formed in the sky over downtown, a glow that flickered with rage and omen. A deep rumble rolled through the air. The essence light downtown rippled and brightened, moving toward the Common. Pink essence flashed in front of me, and Joe somersaulted out of it, naked as the day he was born.
“Did I miss the party?” he asked.
“It’s about to start,” I said.
48
The sky burst across the eastern horizon, a radiant glow that trembled against my skin. Rank upon rank of Dananns filled the air, row upon row of vibrant wings humming with power. A streak of white at their head marked the vanguard of the High Queen’s Fianna and, at their center, the fierce silver star of Maeve herself.
They swept into the sky, higher and higher, an astounding host of fey. Maeve had emptied Tara—and Germany and France and everywhere else—and brought all her forces here, to this place, for her final victory.
Joe laughed nervously beside me. “I don’t think we have enough cups for all these guests.”
“We’ll have to manage,” I said.
The earth trembled. In the empty space between the stone circle and ranks of the People of the Way, the ground heaved like waves. Cracks appeared, dirt spewing upward as the vibrations radiated outward. A crevasse opened, deep and lit with green light. Something large moved within it, swelling up from the depths. A misshapen head appeared, wide and grim, on a long neck. The troll planted his enormous hands on the ground and hauled himself up beneath the dark sky.
Behind him, the crevasse boiled with more essence, a strange stew of colors that pulsed with a regular rhythm. More figures scrambled out of the hidden tunnels beneath the Common. A cloud of green light blossomed, and Eorla rose from the earth, a shining emerald star. The solitaries gathered beneath her, then spread along the field with fire in their eyes.
“She does know how to make an entrance,” Dylan said.
“So does Bastian,” I said.
On buildings around the Common, elven archers appeared, on hotels and apartments and the towering high-rises in the Back Bay. The rooflines blazed with the green of ready elf-shot pointed at the sky. I didn’t think he’d come. I thought he’d wait it out, let the Celts destroy each other and pick over the leftovers. Instead, he had gathered the Alfheim in the city and joined the stand against Maeve.