“You should have turned yourself in,” macGoren said. He had the gall to look annoyed.
“Really? Would that have stopped you from blowing up the power plant?” I said.
His glance slipped to Bastian Frye and away. “The Dead did that.”
I gave him the coldest smile I knew how. “Stick to that story, macGoren. I’m betting not enough people involved died despite your best efforts. They will talk.”
Danann security agents appeared in the sky above us and settled down beside macGoren. He gestured at Vize and me. “Take them into custody,” he said.
Frye held up his hand. “The Consortium has an interest in these men as well.”
MacGoren bowed his head with a smile. “My agents are here now, Bastian. We can sort it out later.”
Frye returned the smile. “I believe I am more than capable of handling two damaged fey folk.”
Brokke gazed off into the distance, a bemused smile on his face. “Wind’s changing.”
Frye shifted his eyes to the dwarf, then followed his line of sight to something behind me. The wind had swung around, pushing the smoke to the west away from the burning buildings. Down on the Avenue, a lone figure moved within the gray haze. With her head high and determined, Eorla strode out of the smoke, her essence shimmering a brilliant, pure evergreen. The wind shifted farther to the south, and the fire smoke retreated up the Avenue. More figures appeared behind Eorla, shadowed silhouettes in all shapes and sizes. Eorla threw her hands out as she continued walking, and she sent a surge of essence swirling through the air. A gale rushed off the channel and down the Avenue. The last of the smoke lifted and billowed away, revealing thousands of fey filling the street and the air above it. The Weird was on the march. The Dead and the solitaires, purged of the Taint, moved forward in united purpose.
Eorla reached the bridge and paused between me and Vize. She had changed on some fundamental level. Bright pinpoints of light glittered in her eyes, and her skin gleamed a translucent green. When I had first met her, I thought her power impressive. Now, she radiated essence like no one I had ever met.
“These men are under my protection,” she said.
A slight smile creased Frye’s lips, while macGoren shifted uncertainly on his feet. Frye bowed and swept his hand toward the far end of the bridge. “I have a car, Your Highness. Allow me to take charge of them.”
Eorla gave him a cold smile. “You mistake me, Bastian. I am granting them free passage. They are free to go by my authority.”
The smile slipped from his face. “Your Highness?”
She thrust her arm back. “Do you see what is behind me? That is failure, gentlemen, and I will no longer tolerate it. Do you see all those people? They are under my protection, too. All of them. Any transgression against them shall be a transgression against me.”
Frye came forward with his hand held out. “Your Highness, you are not yourself.”
White light filled Eorla’s eyes. “Step no closer, Bastian. I am more myself than ever. I claim these people. Do you hear me? Withdraw the Guild and Consortium forces and your human lackeys, or I will unleash a fury that will shake the thrones of the High Queen of Tara and the Elven King.”
“You would incite the Consortium to war against us?” macGoren asked.
Eorla shook her head. “No, Guildsman. Hear me, both of you, and hear me well. I send this message to High Queen Maeve and Donor Elfenkonig: You have failed. You face a new Court. Hear my words and know fear: Eorla Elvendottir shall not abide either of your courts any longer.”
MacGoren narrowed his eyes at her. “Be reasonable, Eorla. Look at that rabble. They can barely stand. Do you think you can withstand my forces?”
Eorla tucked her chin and glanced over her shoulder. “Like so many others, you underestimate me, Danann.
Look beyond what you see. Set your sights a little higher. I have.”
Someone appeared on the roof of the nearest building. As he stepped up on the high cornice of the building, Rand lifted a bow strung with flaming green elf-shot. One by one, other archers joined him, flanking him to either side along the roof. More appeared on other buildings until rooflines all around us bristled with elven soldiers wearing the house insignias of Kruge and Elvendottir.
“Cross me at your peril,” Eorla said. She pivoted on her heel and strode back into the Weird. Vize didn’t hesitate to follow. I stared at macGoren, flanked by his security agents. True shock and fear showed in his eyes. There was nothing left to say. I walked away.
At the end of the bridge, Eorla waited with Vize. “I am not Maeve or Donor. The old ways are gone. I reject any claim either of you may have of me and make none of you. I have granted you free passage for today. Use it as you see fit and may the Wheel of the World turn in your favor.”
She proceeded alone down the Avenue, a tall flame of power. As she approached the gathered crowd, they sank to their knees, rank upon rank bowing before her. All save one. Zev continued walking toward me, carrying Meryl’s limp body.
Vize smirked at me. “How’s it feel to be a fugitive?”
I punched him in the face.
I leaned my forehead against the cold window, watching the snow swirl into drifts along the riverbank. The flakes fell like pale moths against the dark, a world of white against black blurring to gray. The heart monitor beeped behind me, a soft, regular rhythm that was at once reassuring because it existed and worrisome because it was needed. My breath steamed against window, obscuring my darkened image. A flash of pink in the room reflected in the mirrored surface. Joe hovered over the bed.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said to my back.
I moved to the side of the bed. “It’s okay. It doesn’t matter.”
He frowned. “Of course, it matters. Did you think it didn’t matter when you were in the same position? You heard me when I was here then. I know you did.”
I slipped my hand into Meryl’s. “I don’t remember.”
“Course you don’t. We don’t remember things. We remember making it through things. So will she.”
“Gillen Yor says it’s not a coma,” I said.
Joe knelt on the pillow by Meryl’s head and placed his hands on her forehead. “No, it’s not. She’s not here.”
“Don’t say that,” I said.
He rose from the bed, hovering next to me. “Talk to her. She will hear you even if she doesn’t answer.”
I leaned my head next to hers, feeling her warm cheek against mine, her breath a soft touch on my skin. Her hair—her crazy fiery red hair—smelled like apple blossoms. I brought my lips to her ear. “Come back. Please.”
I slid my lips to her forehead and kissed her there, long and soft.
“We have to go. The shift change is almost over,” said Joe.
I tapped Meryl’s nose. Joe blipped out as I opened the room door.
The outside hall was empty. Gillen Yor was keeping the security guard occupied at the far end near the nurses’ station. I’ll let you know any change, he sent.
I strolled away in the opposite direction and entered the back stairwell, where Keeva waited for me. I handed her the white lab coat I was wearing.
“Thank you for this,” I said.
She flicked her eyebrow dismissively. “By the time anyone notices the gap in the watch schedule, I’ll be in Tara claiming hormone surges must have affected my organizational skills.”
“They’re going to bury it, aren’t they?” I asked.
She nodded. “It’s already happening. Cashel and the commissioner went rogue. That’s the official story.”
“Did macGoren know? Did you?”
She pursed her lips. “I won’t speak for Ryan, but, no, I didn’t know.”