Mark Del Franco - Undone Deeds

I bowed my head, staring into the space between my feet, shifting my gaze between one boot and the other. The sword had resumed its dagger size when Gerry died. I had returned both daggers to their sheaths before the authorities arrived. The first responder had demanded I turn them over, but I had refused. I had a right to carry them, especially in that end of town, and hadn’t used them for anything other than defense. Rand took my side, asking the officer if he would like Rand’s hands, since those had been used to kill Gerry.

Rand had made no attempt to hide the fact that he had fired the elf-shot that killed Gerry. In the same breath, he asserted his diplomatic immunity. Despite the break with the Consortium, Donor had not revoked the status of Eorla and her people as envoys of the court. Doing so would have validated her own court, and that wasn’t something Donor wanted to give a hint of legitimacy. Of course, diplomatic immunity was also the reason Manus ap Eagan wasn’t in a prison hospital. Two police officers, a father and son yet, were dead by known assailants who could not be arrested for their crimes. The excuse did not sit well with present company.

The faith stone was feeding my body shield, but I was reaching the point of exhaustion holding it together anyway. Despite my more resilient constitution, using essence took effort. Maintaining a body shield was a constant drain. I was at my breaking point.

“What are you going to do?” I asked.

Rand monitored everything and everyone around us, scanning, assessing. I realized that this was how Eorla saw him, his back always to her, facing her only when they were alone and in direct conversation. I had never had a full-time bodyguard and never thought about how much trust existed between protector and protected who didn’t look each other in the eye.

“I will answer their questions until they start to repeat, then I will excuse myself and return to Eorla,” he said.

Eorla. Not Her Majesty. I wondered if that was because she wasn’t present or if she allowed him to use her personal name in private. “Well, give me a heads-up because I’m not comfortable staying here without you.”

“Ceridwen’s people have set a perimeter for you. Once you leave this alley, they will not allow anyone with guns to enter the Tangle,” he said.

I didn’t need another debt to Ceridwen. She was going to hold me to my promise to help her get revenge against Maeve. I didn’t mind that so much. It was her subtle manipulations that bound me tighter every time we interacted that worried me. Promises made had a tendency to look very different from promises fulfilled.

I stood but remained near the wall. People nearby cast looks at me that ranged from anxious to angry. Janey Likesmith had arrived, but she didn’t tend to the body. She hugged Leo and remained with her arms around him. Meryl stepped back, still talking. Leo nodded over Janey’s shoulder.

Someone from the OCME—a human, I noticed—was breaking out crime-scene equipment. Clearly, no fey was going to touch this case. I wondered if news had gotten out in the force about the Murdocks, if people knew they were, in fact, fey folk. I wondered if it would matter now.

The officers out on the sidewalk shifted, shuffling to make room for someone. As a gap opened among them, Kevin Murdock strode through. His hair was disheveled from a hat, and red colored his cheeks. He stopped beside Gerry, his jaw set, hands clenched. Leo reached out a hand and said something, but Kevin shrugged him off. He raised his gaze, and we made eye contact.

His pale blue eyes shone with anger—and more. Essence flickered there, the telltale reaction of angry fey. In a flash, a body shield blossomed around him, pushing Leo and Meryl back. He stalked toward me. With a snap of his wrist, his hand burned incandescent white with essence. In reflex, I tapped my own body essence and shuddered as the darkness squeezed my mind. Kevin let the essence fly. The strike lanced toward us, shearing through Rand’s shield and throwing him off his feet. My head burned with heat as the stone pulsed and my shield—exploded was the only word I could grasp. It wrapped itself around both Rand and me, a solidified barrier. Kevin’s bolt hit with a splash of fire that washed over and away from us.

More essence launched through the air as Rand and Meryl recovered, ribbons of binding spells dropping over Kevin. They spun around him, cinching his arms to his sides, and he staggered to a halt. He remained calm, yet defiant. His gaze bored into me, his pale blue eyes burning with essence. Cops flooded the space between us, pushing Kevin back and pulling their guns on me and Rand.

This isn’t over. You’re a dead man, Grey.

My jaw dropped at the sound of his voice in my mind. The shield, the essence fire, and the sending were all high-level work. Regardless of where he was training, Kevin didn’t have the level of experience to achieve such ability. It was all raw talent.

Leo pressed into the crowd. “Hold fire! Hold fire!” he shouted.

“Leo….” I said.

He glared, his eyes tired and red-rimmed, and held his hand up to my face. I snapped my mouth shut. He pointed at Rand. “Get him out of here. Tell your boss she better take my call, or there will be hell to pay.”

Rand extinguished his essence and bowed. He took my arm and escorted me through the officers. As we passed Kevin, Rand removed his binding spell with a druidic hand gesture.

I’ll stay with Leo, Meryl sent. I gave her a barely detectable nod, letting my eyes tell her I understood.

At the mouth of the alley, a tree fairy, her face rough and stern, waited in a black car on the sidewalk. Rand guided me into the back like I was under arrest, then slid into the seat next to me. The tree fairy edged the car through the officers. The interior of the car rang with the sound of batons hitting the fenders. The tree fairy remained calm, though, and took us to Old Northern Avenue without further incident.

“That went better than expected,” Rand said.

Rand ushered me through heightened security at the Rowes Wharf Hotel. The death of a police officer at the hands of one of her people had brought protesters to the street out front. The National Guard had increased its presence, claiming it was about crowd control, but they didn’t seem much interested in calming anyone.

Eorla, on the other hand, acted as if it was another day in the life of the Unseelie queen. We arrived in her private office to find her calmly fielding phone calls. She gestured me to the guest chair. Rand waited at attention by the window. “No, I’m not concerned,” she said into the phone. “I will make a public announcement when I make my final decision…. I have guns pointed at my front door, sir. I apologize if I seem a bit distracted…. It is my understanding that the man was disguised, did not identify himself, and was firing on a civilian…. Fine. I will let you know.”

She ended the call and leaned back in her chair. “How are you holding up?”

“I’ve had better days,” I said.

“You look exhausted. I’ve had a room prepared for you,” she said.

“I shouldn’t stay here, Eorla. It complicates things for you. My place in the Tangle will be secure once the news cameras go away,” I said.

Eorla pursed her lips. “What do you plan to do?”

“I need to get some sleep before I can process all this,” I said.

“Publicly, I’m putting you on restricted duty, Rand. We need to deflect attention,” she said.

“Understood, Your Majesty,” he said.

I peered at him. For weeks, I had been noticing curious things about Rand, small things, things that didn’t add up to my understanding of an elven warrior in general and him in particular. In front of Eorla, he was all business—the picture of a high-level elven operative. When we had been alone together, though, his façade slipped, letting some of the man behind the image show through. I assumed it was because we had become friendly. Contrary to popular belief, elves were not dour and taciturn at all times. They were reserved in public, but among their own, they were like anybody else, high-spirited or low, with every personality between.