He gave me a sharp nod, either missing my sarcasm or pleased that I didn’t reject the offer out of hand. I didn’t clarify but let him think whatever he wanted. Keeping someone like Bastian Frye off-balance was not an easy thing.
Brokke perused the menu. “Let’s have dessert, shall we?”
I smiled. “Sure. Anything look good?”
He eyed me and passed the menu. “I’ll let you pick.”
I hate people who can read the future.
17
As I finished my dessert at the Ritz, Meryl texted me to meet her nearby at a local Guild watering hole. As usual, she was cryptic, but asked me to slip in the back unseen. To continue enjoying bars and restaurants, a good rule of thumb was never to go in the kitchen. The Craic House was no different than any other place in town. The rear entrance had the whiff of garbage, spilled beer, and bug juice. Sure, the Health Department had rules and inspections, but that didn’t mean the cockroaches read the manuals. The kitchen staff ignored me after their initial glances, as if it were perfectly normal for someone to walk in their back door and hang around. Guild employees frequented the restaurant, so maybe they were used to odd behavior.
Meryl strolled in from the front of the restaurant. Over the clanking and banging of the dish-washing machine and cooking areas, several guys called out her name. If I were a different person, the number of men Meryl knew would irritate me. But then, if I were a different person, I wouldn’t have gotten involved with Meryl in the first place. Besides, if I did say something, she would wonder aloud why I wasn’t worried about the number of women she knew, then tongue-kiss a random stranger to make the bigger point. With Meryl, I either accepted who she was and didn’t make assumptions—likely or asinine ones—or she wouldn’t give me the time of day. In all fairness, she respected and accepted my past the same way, although pointing out my flaws continued to be one of her favorite pastimes.
She tossed me a laminated ID badge for the Teutonic Consortium consulate with a picture of a security guard. A cool static settled over me from an essence charge on the badge. It was a glamour. The skin on my hands became smoother and paler, and my black jacket shifted to the regulation red outfit worn by elven security.
“How’s your elven accent these days?” she asked.
I held up the badge. “Perfect. Is this what I look like?”
She pursed her lips. “You’ve got a more quizzical look on your face than he does, but it’ll get you through the front door.”
“And I need that because . . . ?”
She smiled. “Because Eorla Kruge doesn’t want to be seen with you.”
“And you’re running errands for her because . . . ?”
She shot a glance at the kitchen staff. “She wants to see both of us.”
I nodded slowly. “You know what that means.”
Forest Hills, she sent.
The events of Forest Hills Cemetery, where Eorla’s husband was buried, kept coming back to haunt us. Part of the cemetery was destroyed, which was a small price to pay for the disaster that Meryl and I had prevented. The powerful surge of essence that was released, combined with the control spell that started the whole thing, twisted essence and produced the Taint. Meryl and I were a big part of stopping a cataclysmic meltdown, and Eorla played her role, too.
“She’s getting close to something,” I said.
Meryl shrugged and rolled her eyes in irritation. Forest Hills wasn’t something she liked talking about. She felt responsible for some of the deaths that had occurred, to say nothing of being the subject of a Guild investigation that had led to her arrest. The charges were dropped, but people continued pressing her about what she did. Including, apparently, Eorla.
“I don’t trust her,” Meryl said.
I chucked her on the nose. “You don’t trust anybody.”
She grinned. “And that’s how I’ve survived as long as I have.” She glanced at her watch. “She’s expecting you in fifteen minutes. Give me a few seconds head start, then go out the back.”
“I can’t leave with you?”
She back-stepped and smirked. “Nope. I don’t want to be seen with you either.”
On the way through the kitchen, she retrieved a bag from under a heat lamp and went out front. I shook my head. Cloak and dagger with fries.
Out in the alley, I adjusted my stride to the stiff rhythm of an elven security guard. Back when I was working for the Guild, going undercover wearing a glamour was a routine part of the job. Going into the Guild undercover was not something I ever contemplated doing. I didn’t need to. They were impressed with me then.
Near the Guildhouse entrance, I flashed my badge at three different sidewalk checkpoints. Consortium agents didn’t have automatic access to the Guildhouse, but they were extended the courtesy of bypassing the waiting queue during lockdowns. Without an appointment or high-level security badge, they didn’t make it past the reception desk, same as anyone else. I breezed through, though. I guessed Guild directors can wave through anybody they wanted.
The Teutonic section of the Guildhouse was in the rear on lower floors. Not the best location as offices go, but that was the point. While publicly the Guild welcomed all fey in the name of unity, the Teutonic contingent were assumed spies for Donor Elfenkonig. No doubt they were. Guild spies in other places confirmed it.
More badge flashing on the fifth floor earned me an escort directly to Eorla’s office. Despite her stature, Eorla kept a relatively modest yet modern office with glass-and-steel furniture—definitely not Guild issue. The window behind her desk shimmered with a spell that displayed a view of an ancient forest instead of the parking lot I knew was outside that part of the building.
To maintain the facade of the glamour, I stood at attention while my escort announced me. Eorla nodded as she typed on the thinnest laptop I had ever seen. The escort passed her my badge. Eorla stopped to look at it, then returned it with a smile. “Thank you. Has the material I requested from the archives arrived?”
“No, ma’am,” the escort said.
Eorla made a slight frown. “Please call. I don’t want this courier to wait.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The escort bowed and left.
Eorla continued working as she passed me a sending. I’m sorry I have to leave you standing there. They’ll think it odd if you sit down and odder yet if we close the door.
A few moments later, Meryl’s voice sounded out in the hall. “Look, I don’t care if you’re the Elven King’s nephew or his dog handler, I’m not turning over classified files to a hallway jockey. Tell Eorla, if she wants them, she gets them directly from me. If she has a problem with that, she can discuss it in my office.”
Eorla arched an eyebrow and went to the door. “It’s fine, Albrin. Let her through. Ms. Dian is very dedicated to her work.”
“Hey, Kru-chacha. Nice to see you again,” Meryl said loud enough for the guard to hear, and effectively put herself on their enemies-of-the-state list. The Consortium puts more effort into nothing than formality and strict adherence to royal protocol.
Meryl snickered as she preceded Eorla, who closed the door.
“You are incorrigible,” I said.
She grinned as she sat in a guest chair. “And that’s my good side.”
I sat next to her. “What’s the mystery all about, Eorla?”
She leaned back, her eyes shifting between Meryl and me. “I’ve been reviewing the Forest Hills files, and I believe there are some gaps in the report.”
Meryl shifted in her seat. “I sent you everything that was in the files.”
Eorla smiled shrewdly. “Of course you did. I don’t think either of you believe that my own report contained everything that occurred.”