Mark Del Franco - Undone Deeds

“I touched it, and the essence flowed into me. With Meryl, it seemed to jump into her on its own,” I said.

Annoyed, Briallen crossed her arms. “Why didn’t you tell us that the bowl caused the mysterious essence burst you said revived her?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I didn’t feel like explaining the properties of a mysterious essence instrument to you,” I said.

I couldn’t help the dig. I accepted that Briallen treated me like her student long after I had left her charge. I couldn’t help wanting to remind her I didn’t answer to her anymore and that sometimes she overstepped as much as I did. She didn’t tell me about the sword. I didn’t tell her about the bowl. It was quid pro quo even if I didn’t intend it to be. My words had the effect I intended. Upset, Briallen straightened her back but didn’t say anything.

Gillen glanced at Shay. “What do you feel when you touch it?”

“It feels kinda odd, warm and soft instead of hard and cold,” he said.

“No burns or shocks, young lady?” Gillen asked.

“No. I’m a guy, by the way,” Shay said.

Gillen grunted. He cleared his throat and pushed at the bowl. It didn’t move. Since the bowl could be moved only by a virgin, that told me more about Gillen than I needed to know.

“What are you thinking?” I asked him.

He tilted his head up and down, still examining the bowl. “I’m gassy. I shouldn’t have had the broccoli with dinner. Come here and stick your hand in it.”

Despite being made a fool of on other occasions when he told me to do things, I always did as Gillen asked. A prickling sensation ran up my arm, and the stone in my head beat a warm pulse. A veil lifted inside me, connections leaped together and burst with energy. My hand flared with essence, power shooting down into the bowl, and I felt that I could do anything with a simple thought. I had not felt that sensation for over three years. I stumbled back with a gasp and stared at Gillen.

“What happened?” he asked.

“My abilities. It felt like my abilities came back,” I said. The sensation faded as quickly as it had risen, the stone in my head and the darkness resuming the tired dance that blocked my abilities.

Gillen tapped the edge of the stone. “Handy little gizmo. Are you ready, Briallen?” She joined him by the bed and placed her hand on the bowl. “Begin,” Gillen said.

Briallen’s body shield swirled around her, and the bowl reacted with a spark of clear white essence in the depression. With measured bursts, Briallen fired essence at the stone. It absorbed each infusion, glowing whiter and brighter. Static arcs jumped from one edge to the other, from inside the bowl to Briallen’s hand. She closed her eyes in concentration, pulling more essence into her and directing it out again.

Gillen took Eagan’s hand with a gentleness that belied his usual nature, stretched the Guildmaster’s arm toward the bowl. As the skeletal hand neared the ward, essence sparked between them, and Eagan’s fingers twitched. Gillen lowered the hand onto the stone.

White fog swirled around the hand. Dark spots formed on the skin, and the essence gathered over them, tiny funnels of light pouring into the spots. Briallen maintained her stream, adding more essence from her fingers with each pulse.

A bolt of essence shot into the air, froze, then bent back over the bed. It splintered and plunged into Eagan’s body. Pain lanced through my head, like a fist hitting my brain. Eagan convulsed, his brittle wings unfurling with a sharp snap as he rolled onto his back. He arched when another surge hit, his mouth straining open in pain. Beside him, Briallen stood transfixed, her hand locked onto the bowl.

More pressure built inside my head. I moved back, the essence pounding against my brain, the yearning of the darkness inescapable. It shifted inside my mind, the familiar burning sensation of its unquenchable thirst. The faith stone burned, too, cold and heat oscillating between it and the darkness, fighting for dominance. I closed my eyes against the infinite loop of pain.

Essence coursed into Eagan, splintering and splintering again. Burning white lines fed into the pinholes of darkness that speckled his body signature. The essence overwhelmed the darkness, stitching together his body essence with flashes of light.

With a last burst, the essence from the stone bowl faded. Spots danced in front of my eyes. I fell back against the door. Briallen swayed as Gillen helped her to the armchair. She slumped on the seat, worn and exhausted, her own body signature a smoldering ember of its normal brilliance.

Tibbet came to my side and lifted my head by the chin. “Are you okay?”

I took her hand and stood. “Yeah. Stunned a little.”

Eagan lay on his back, his wings spread across the sheets. They rippled with the air currents, essence dancing among the veining. The flesh on his face had filled out. He didn’t look well, but he didn’t look dead anymore. I scanned him with my sensing ability. “He’s regenerating on his own,” I said.

Gillen touched the wards on the nightstand. “I’m not sensing any of the darkness.”

“Me either,” I said.

Gillen turned with a pensive look. “I don’t know how that thing works, but if he’s cured, there’s hope for you yet.”

Excitement surged through me. To be free of the darkness was unfathomable, to be whole again, to be cured. “Gillen, can we….”

He held up his hand. “One step at a time, Grey. Eagan didn’t have nearly the amount of darkness in him as you do, and it’s drained Briallen to her core.”

“I’m fine,” she said.

“Spent is what you are,” he said. “You need to sleep. We all do. Tibbet, please call the car. I’m taking Briallen home. I’ll be back by daylight.”

Rest, Gillen had suggested. As if the idea that Manus ap Eagan might be healed or that I might have a chance at getting rid of the darkness were rest-inducing. I tossed and turned in a bedroom on the second floor, the deep silence in the house not helping me to relax. The Tangle was full of noise that became a soothing backdrop to fall asleep to. Eagan’s house was out in the suburbs and removed enough from the main road that a police siren was a faint echo.

Intruders.

I was out of bed with my daggers in hand before Tibbet’s sending faded from my mind. In silence, I moved behind the door, keeping out of the moonlight. I didn’t have the ability to respond to Tibbet and didn’t know where the intruders were. I crept along the wall, keeping my eye on the door as I approached the window. Nothing moved on the lawn outside. At the foot of the front steps, a brownie guard lay on the ground, unmoving.

Third floor clear. Meet me in the back stairwell.

Without hesitation, I entered the corridor. Toward the main staircase, a dim light flickered from the grand hall. It was too far off and opposite Tibbet’s direction. Tibbet knew her territory, and if she told me to jump off a bridge, I would. I went the other way, slipping into the next door to retrieve Shay.

Shay’s bedroom was black as pitch. I closed my eyes to focus with my sensing ability. Faint purple wisps showed where Shay had crossed the room to the dresser, the open windows, and the bed. A thicker buildup on the bed indicated he had been asleep. I checked on the opposite side and under the bed, but the floor was empty. He wasn’t in the room.

At the open window, essence splayed along the floor and over the sill. Two flights below, Shay’s hat sat on the lawn. I peered into the darkness, trying to figure which way he had run.

“Dammit, Shay, you could have killed yourself,” I said under my breath. I quick-stepped back to the door and listened for sound in the hall.