Unquiet Dreams (33 page)

A woman cloaked in dark blue stepped up to the opposite side of the pit from Eorla. With no introduction, she began to sing the Teutonic death ritual. Sitting between Murdock and me, Meryl groaned. “Wake me when she’s done.”

I suppressed a laugh. Teutonic priestesses had put more than one person to sleep with their songs. True to form, this one launched into a mind-numbing aria on life in High Elven German. Meryl squirmed. As the priestess sang, servants brought a vat of mead before her, and she blessed it with her song. The servants ladled the drink and passed the cups into the crowd.

Murdock’s hand went to his ear. He leaned across Meryl. “Fighting at the outer perimeter. I have to go.”

As Murdock hustled his way out of the aisle, I watched security agents, both elf and fairy, reposition themselves along the ridge. Keeva leaned toward Gerin Cuthbern to speak to him. Gerin rose from his seat, bowed to Eorla, and walked up the ramp.

The ceremony continued uninterrupted. Word of the fighting outside must have filtered through the crowd because I could feel body shields activating around me. The calling of so much essence in such a confined area made my head ache. I could see it, my own body activating my sensing abilities instead of its almost useless body shield. Essence of all colors glowed around me like small lanterns of light.

The mead reached the last row of seating and made its way toward us. Distracted by more security, I took the cup from my neighbor and began to sip.

Meryl’s hand came up suddenly and grabbed my arm. “Wait!”

I looked at her curiously, and she took the cup from my hand. She peered inside, consternation on her face as she swirled the dregs. She inhaled and blanched, her body shields coming up so quickly she shuddered.

“It’s Float,” she hissed under her breath.

As soon as she said it, I caught another wave of essence rolling over the gathering. It tickled into my nose, laden with the spell I had felt at Carnage. I tried to shake my head to clear it, but only felt dizzy. My vision blurred suddenly, then my sensing abilities went into overdrive. All around me, essence crystallized sharply in my vision, a disconcerting overlay of color outlining everything. I could see the spells working in the druid-fires, the glamours that people wore, their innate body essence marking them by strength and species. And marking everyone was a malevolent green essence that matched the glow coming from the vat of mead.

It was just like when I held the drys, her essence boosting my ability to its greatest potential, but twisted by the compulsion spell C-Note had put on it. As essence materialized more distinctly around me, I realized why.

“I can feel the drys. C-Note is here, Meryl.”

A collective gasp went up from the crowd. Heads that had been nodding with boredom shot to attention. At the top of the low ridge, C-Note leaned on his black staff. Keeva leaped to her feet before anyone else and moved into the aisle. Brownie and druid security materialized from the crowd and surrounded C-Note in moments. Eorla angrily rose from her seat as Consortium agents closed ranks around her.

“So much for security,” Meryl muttered.

C-Note raised his staff. “Look at you, facing each other across the corpse of unity. You speak to unity, but you still plot against each other. Even now, some among you seek revenge for age-old grievances.”

Surprised murmurs rippled through the audience as more people got to their feet. Keeva made her way up the ramp toward C-Note. He waved the staff, and she froze in place. Not a good sign. More people stood to watch the confrontation. The Teutonic ambassadors began to push their way up the ramp. Not to be outdone, the Seelie envoy led his own security closer.

“How the hell did he get through,” I muttered.

Around us, the druid-fires flickered and smoked. My head buzzed with surging essence. Keeva should have been backing the crowd out. Trolls are tough to move physically, but she didn’t even seem to be trying to break the spell on her. A few feet in front of her, the druids and brownies had an essence shield around C-Note, a nice piece of joined spell-working meant to hold him in place, presumably until the bigger guns showed up to cart him off.

C-Note was still talking, but the noise of the spectators drowned him out. Angry, rapt faces surged forward. The Guild security guards should have been down on the ground by now. They responded directly to Keeva via sendings, and she had to be calling them. Instead, they remained hovering along the periphery, white blazes of essence ringed above us. Something wasn’t right.

I searched the crowd, but could see nothing other than people boosting their body shields. I paused as my eye slid over a trough of druid-fire near me. I could see the essence that powered it, but behind the normal flame, it seemed to be drawing essence from the trees around us instead of being powered by people. Anger swept over me. That wasn’t how you worked a Grove shield. You didn’t draw directly from the oak It was an insult to the spirits of the trees to use them for such a utilitarian purpose.

My head ached as I watched lines of essence from the druid-fires crawl across the gravesite. So much essence was in the air, it actually fed into my ability, amplifying it beyond what I normally could sense. The dark mass in my head seemed to ripple in my mind, pushing the bands of Power away from it like it did when I tried to call essence on my own.

Color cascaded in my sight, tangles of light like a multi-colored ball of fraying yarn. I could see links had formed among all the druid-fires around the clearing. The lines entwined, forming a dense spiral of Power that began to funnel down toward Kruge’s grave. The spiral pulsed and grew as the heart essence of the oaks fed it. The druid-fires pulsed brighter as they fed more essence into the spiral. A huge pulse rolled along the lines, swirling along the spiral as it tightened into a nexus. Not at the grave. At C-Note’s feet. He planted the staff on its very center and a shimmering barrier flowed up to meet the pulse. It was a hedge spell. C-Note was sealing off the entire clearing.

I grabbed Meryl’s arm in alarm. This couldn’t be good. “Get everybody out! Get them to run! Do it now, Meryl!”

I had to give her credit. Having just slammed me for telling her what to do, Meryl responded with trust. Without hesitation, she shouted a spell that sent a burst of primal fear into the crowd. Terrified without knowing why, people who had been gathering around C-Note suddenly spun away and ran up the slope. The few who didn’t run, hardened their body shields in battle mode and reached for weapons.

The pulse reached C-Note. He absorbed the energy into his staff and slammed it on the ground. Bolts of yellow fire shot out and enveloped the brownies and druids around him. In unison, they turned away from him and started firing essence into the crowd. Keeva sailed up into the night sky in a radiant halo of white fire, a look of ecstasy on her face.

As the exchange of fire heated up, I pulled Meryl behind a large burial monument. We could see the whole of the clearing below us as a confusion of people turned on each other with weapons and essence-fire.

The Seelie Court ambassador took a blast of druid-fire full in the chest. Blood sprayed from his back as he soared through the air with the force of the blow. Chairs scattered as his body tumbled roughly through them. When his body finally came to rest, his essence wavered and vanished. At the same moment, the Guild agents above began firing at the Consortium ambassadors.

With a guttural moan, Meryl lurched forward, grabbing her waist. I sank to my knees as pain screamed through my head. Essence ricocheted around me, blinding my vision with red pain. I could feel myself losing consciousness, the pain increasing until I thought my mind would burst under the strain. Just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, I felt a cool static flow over me, blocking it. I opened my eyes with a relieved gasp, realizing Meryl held my arm, her body shield forming an envelope of protection around the both of us.

Meryl was breathing heavily. “The essence is tainted. I can’t touch it without his spell grabbing me.”

I lifted my head, shaking off the subsiding pain. I couldn’t believe that in the space of a few moments, fighting had broken out in all directions. Essence-fire sparked from their hands and chests as they struggled, groups scattering into the cemetery, taking their fights with them. Shouts and screams surrounded us as essence meant to kill tore through the air.

Down near the grave, bodies lay prone everywhere, with no visible essence emanating from them. Dead. Dozens dead from both Seelie Court and the Consortium. In the center of it all stood C-Note, using his staff to draw more essence from the Power spiral he was creating.

One lone figure remained before him, tall and defiant. Eorla Kruge’s torn veil rippled in the wind as she held her head high. She had an enormous body shield around her. “What the hell is she doing?” I started to get up, but Meryl pulled me to the ground.

“I can’t protect you down there, Grey. We have to get out of here.”

Eorla thrust one hand into the air. “Enough,” she commanded.

C-Note peered down at her and grinned. “You’re too late. I’ve lit the spark. I control the flame.”

A wave of light spilled from Eorla as she shouted again. The light rolled off her and hit C-Note full on. He staggered back as her essence struck. C-Note held his black staff out, absorbing the blow. The image of an oaken staff flickered into view for a moment before resuming its black appearance. It had done the same thing at Carnage when it flew from my hands to his.

Eorla’s eyes blazed with emerald light. “You’re no troll.”

He laughed with bitter scorn. “Nothing is ever as it appears to be, Eorla.”

She drew a ball of essence from the air and threw it at him. It shattered on C-Note, grappling with his body shield. Impressively, it broke through. The level of Power I had sensed in her when we first met was not mistaken. C-Note’s body shimmered, became a blur of color, and the glamour he wore slipped away.

Gerin Cuthbern leaned on the oak staff, staring at Eorla with a malevolent white light in his eyes.

“If you expect me to be surprised you did that, Eorla, you will be disappointed. I have never underestimated your Power,” Gerin said.

She raised a hand glowing green with light. “You killed my husband.”

Gerin nodded. “Which is regrettable. He was forcing my hand before I was ready, but his death became quite useful.”

Eorla drew her hand up to cast her spell. Gerin smiled. “I killed your husband, Eorla. Nigel and Manus are dead now, too. I will kill you, too, if necessary. You were right about one thing: The fey need to be unified. The only way to do that is take away their Power.”

Her hand wavered, whether in fear or consideration, I couldn’t tell. “This is madness, Gerin,” she said.

“Mad? You mean like Maeve and Donor, locked in their ancient grievances? You mean like you and Manus, bickering over a directorship? You think I am mad? Faerie is gone, Eorla. The old ways are all gone. Seelie Court and the Consortium play word games with each other, while the humans plan to destroy us. Do you not see it coming? To ignore that, that is madness.”

Eorla did not say anything for a long moment. Incredibly, she dropped her hand. She turned a troubled face to the carnage around her. “You’re killing people, Gerin.”

He shook his head. “They’re killing each other. I’m just pushing them to do what they want.” He raised the staff. It glowed with white light. Teutonic runes floated in the essence. “Essence is mine to give or take now. The spell I have created is pulling it all to me. I will only allow those who share my goal to use it.”

She turned back to him with a start. “That’s not possible. No one has that ability.”

“No? Look around you. Tell me it’s not possible.”

He was right. Essence revolved around him like a vortex, feeding into the staff. He held it with his body like a wild animal on a leash.

She balled her hands into fists. “You are starting a war you can’t win.”

“You can only fight me with essence, and if you use essence, you will be mine. Your choice is simple: Fade and die or bow to my will.”

Eorla turned and looked down into the grave pit.

Gerin leaned forward on the staff. “Stand beside me, Eorla. Together we can remake this world. We can take the Power that the Seelie Court and the Consortium squander. You were born to rule. You know that. Be who you are. Be my queen, Eorla.”

Eorla dropped her hand and crossed her arms.

“I don’t believe this. She’s considering it. Can you do anything, Meryl?” I started to move forward, uncertain how I could convince Eorla she had to resist.

Meryl grabbed my sleeve and held me back. “This is too big for me to handle alone, Grey. Every time I drop my shield to tap more essence, I get nauseated. We need to get help.”

Eorla turned back to Gerin. “I cannot.”

He smiled. “You will. I will have you by my side.”

“I will not do it,” she said. She raised her arms.

He shook his head. He thrust the staff forward. A shock of light burst out. Eorla threw out her arms, but she was too late. The light spun around her in a web of white-tinged green. I could feel Hala in that light, the direct Power of her essence binding Eorla with its strands. Living light swirled around her, and she became locked in a cage of essence.

“Watch, Eorla. See my Power. You will change your mind.” Gerin smiled and dropped his head back, and the essence of the spiral pulsed into the staff and from the staff to him. A shimmering barrier of white light began to grow around him.

A blast of essence exploded in front of me. Instinctively, I held Meryl to the ground behind the monument, as another bolt landed near us. On the other end of the gravesite, two elves aimed bows loaded with elf-shot at us.

I smiled apologetically down at her. “I’m thinking run.”

Meryl batted her eyes at me. “My hero.”

Another shot chipped the stone in front of us. I grabbed Meryl’s hand, and we dodged between stones to the top of the ridge. The elves kept shooting, but the essence spiral that Gerin had created was warping their aim. We dove through a yew hedge and landed in a circle of small mausoleums.