He might not feel anything, but I did. I had met very few fey whose essence oscillated in strength like Murdock’s did. It cycled from slightly elevated human normal to wildly strong to, like now, somewhere in the middle. “What’s the midach say?”
“Nothing. Meryl insisted I get checked out this morning. I was at AvMem when Joe called me. Where are we going?”
I considered a moment. “The Guildhouse. I need to talk to Keeva.”
Murdock goosed the accelerator. “What happened after I took off?”
“He met a drys, almost died, and learned C-Note’s evil plans,” Joe’s voice came from somewhere under a pile of papers.
“Oh, be quiet,” I said.
He snickered. “I told you I was paying attention.”
I gave Murdock a few more details than Joe had. A curious look came over his face. “Explain the drys.”
“It’s like I said last night. They’re legends. The belief is that real entities are obligated to keep the flows of essence balanced. A drys is a keeper of the wood and is the source of Power that druids tap. When a druid asks for a blessing, he’s asking the drys.”
“A goddess,” he concluded.
I stole a look at him, but couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not. Murdock’s Roman Catholicism is one of the wonderful contradictions about our friendship. He is a believer who wants to understand the crazy pagans. “Not quite. More an extension of a goddess. The Goddess, if that’s where your belief lies.”
“Is that what you believe?”
I paused, not expecting the question. What did I believe? If he had asked me the day before, I would have talked a lot about energy and reason. I knew what I was supposed to believe as a druid, but my rational mind always resisted. Essence was just there. I could tap it like an energy source. Whether I believed it was the extension of some higher power seemed beside the point. And yet, standing in the Bosnemeton, in a grove of oak with my brothers, I did feel Something. Feeling the purity of essence that Hala generated when I had held her, I felt Something. I knew what I was supposed to believe, even wanted to believe it, but I still hovered on the edge of that precipice, suspicious of taking that leap of faith. Maybe that was the missing key to my problem. Maybe allowing the old beliefs to become real in my mind was the step I needed to take to heal the darkness in my head.
“Let’s just say I hope all of this has a reason,” I said finally.
He nodded. “Hope is the beginning of faith.”
I laughed. “I thought I was the one who just had a near-death experience.”
Murdock shrugged. “Trust me. When you have a building collapsing on your ass, you find time for faith.” He leaned over and pulled a manila folder out of the glove compartment. “I had a busy day.”
I flipped the file open to a sheaf of notes with a photocopy of a store receipt for orange Nike running shoes. “You traced the Nikes?”
He nodded. “They were brand-new. I’d never seen them before, so I figured it might be easy to track them down. Newbury Street, of all places.”
I shook my head. A poor kid from the wrong side of Southie ends up dead while wearing shoes from the most expensive stretch of pavement in Boston.
“They were bought with a credit card, so I ran the number,” he said.
I turned the page and froze. I looked at Murdock. “Is this a joke?”
He had a sly smile on his face. “You wanted a connection to Kruge. We just got another one.”
I held the credit card report, staring at it, still wondering if it were a joke. “Why would Keeva buy Dennis Farnsworth running shoes?”
Murdock pulled his chin in and looked at me from under his brow. “Well, don’t get your hopes up yet. We’ve had this kind of thing blow up in our faces before. No one at the store remembers who bought the shoes. I have someone running the surveillance tape. It could be a big fat coincidence.”
I knew Keeva well enough to know something was up. “Orange shoes are a coincidence? You know Keeva. She wouldn’t be caught dead with someone wearing orange running shoes.”
“It might explain why nothing’s happening with her investigation, though,” he said.
I slouched in my seat. I was at a loss. Other than Guild work, I could not think of a single reason Keeva would be involved with Kruge. Eagan and Gerin put me onto macGoren, not her. But they clearly had their curiosities about her; otherwise, they would have asked her some direct questions about her new beau. As much as Keeva and I had our differences, I had a hard time picturing her in a murder plot.
We made our way through downtown streets and turned toward Park Square. The Guildhouse sat like a fort under siege. Pedestrian traffic threaded through a narrow barricaded path, while concrete Jersey barriers restricted traffic in front to a single lane. Security agents flew overhead, running their random patterns, while brownie foot security patrolled the perimeter of the building.
Murdock pulled over to let me out. Joe flew nonchalantly around me, pretending he wasn’t pulling bodyguard duty.
“You need to get the force on high alert,” I said.
He nodded. “It’s already done. You don’t have to go in there, Connor.”
“Yes, I do.”
“We know C-Note did the Farnsworth murder. I sent Keeva the report this morning. You’re done. Let the Guild handle the rest. If they convict, maybe the city court will hear the case, too.”
“The Guild is tangled in its own politics. They’re focused on the wrong thing, and I can’t sit back and watch it fall apart.”
“Why not?”
I shrugged. “Because shit happens no matter what. That doesn’t mean I have to let it. I’m not giving up no matter what Nigel Martin thinks.”
Murdock leaned back in his seat and smiled. “They made a mistake when they kicked you out.”
He eased the car back into traffic and drove off. I joined the crowd of people on the sidewalk, trying not to push anyone as I made my way toward the front of the Guildhouse. Joe remembered his innate shyness and hung on to the collar of my jacket. He hadn’t latched on to me like that since I was kid, only back then he was making sure I didn’t run off into traffic.
“Move along!” one of the brownie patrols ordered as I stepped around the barricade. I flashed him my Guild badge, looking worn from wear. He examined it suspiciously before stepping back and letting me through.
I felt a tug at my neck. “Ow!” said Joe.
He hovered a few feet behind me. His eyes twitched in all directions, his hands spread with a slight glow. “What’s wrong, Joe?”
“Security barrier. It’s not letting me in. They’re doing something new.”
I opened myself to the barrier, felt its invisible presence. It had the feel of the Grove about it, but different, a modification I hadn’t seen before. Gerin’s work layered over the usual Guildhouse barrier. I could feel the difference, the way it would let certain people through and not others. Flits had a higher ratio of essence to their mass than other species. Given everyone’s fear that they would spy, they were usually the first species to be guarded against.
“Let him in,” I said to the patrol.
The brownie seemed about to object, so I held up my badge again to remind him who he was talking to. I cringed inwardly. In less than a week with a piece of laminated paper in my hand, I had managed to get very comfortable pulling rank. I felt a tingle as the brownie opened a small space for Joe. He flew in and clutched my collar again, looking back at the brownie with a tough face.
When I pushed through the main doors, the central lobby appeared startlingly empty to me. The usual receptionists were gone, replaced by yet more brownie security. I had no problem inside getting through the checkpoint and took an elevator up. The Community Liaison floor hummed with activity. Up and down the halls, people either rushed in and out of offices or clustered in small groups. Dressed in their most formal attire, diplomatic envoys from both Seelie Court and the Teutonic Consortium kept pointedly apart, whispering among themselves while casting wary glances at each other. I turned the corner toward Keeva’s office, only to be stopped by two security guards.