Mark Del Franco - Undone Deeds

Furious, I faced Ceridwen. She didn’t have the spear. As one, the remaining Dananns dropped onto the street. I circled with my sword, keeping an eye on Ceridwen. She wasn’t as close as I’d like. The Dananns didn’t fire. They faced me on all sides, cutting off any escape. “That was a stupid mistake,” I muttered.

Joe hovered in close behind me. “What happened? Where’s the spear?”

The Dananns raised their hands in unison, golden essence sparkling across their palms.

“It’s gone. It had to be Bergen Vize. He’s the only other person I know who can use the spear like that. He’s alive. The bastard’s alive,” I said.

Joe’s wings brushed against the back of my head. “Well, that’s rude.”

I had no hope of fighting off dozens of Dananns. I shrugged off my jacket and held it out. “Get this out of here, Joe. There’s no way I’m letting them get it.”

He swooped in front of me. “Geez, Connor, we can get you another jacket. Let it go.”

“It’s what’s inside,” I said.

He took the jacket as the Dananns released their essence. Streaks of burning light arced through the air. They tangled into each other, weaving in and out.

“Where should I take it?” he asked.

I swept my sword at the forming net. Strands broke and frayed, but more took their place. “Anywhere but here.”

He flew level with my face. “You’re asking me to leave you again.”

“They’re not going to kill me, Joe. They would have by now. Go, before it’s too late,” I said.

He hovered up. “I’ll be back with reinforcements.”

With a shout, he swept in a circle around me, brandishing his sword into the faces of the Dananns. He popped out as the net fell. Essence bindings draped over me, searing my flesh. I fought against them with the sword, but there were too many. The net brought me to my knees. I cut a swath through, managing to free my head and my sword arm. The Dananns moved closer, replacing the destroyed strands. The bindings became heavier, forcing me to the ground.

Three dark figures appeared in the air over me, and I recognized the archdruids from the Common. They dropped with the slow precision of levitation spells. I swore under my breath as they held their right palms out and, as one, shouted, “Codlah.”

My eyelids drooped as the command to sleep fell over me.

The sleep spell lingered like a fog. Awareness tickled at me as it faded. The dark mass pulsed in my head, a mild warmth against the cool light of the faith stone. My eyelids lifted with gritty slowness. Essence bindings held my arms and legs to a chair, immobilizing tethers that didn’t constrict but had no give. I sensed someone in the room. I stared at an empty chair facing me. My vision blurred, then focused on a man to the right. He wore a white robe trimmed with a blue-and-gold knot pattern, the uniform of office of an archdruid.

Archdruids achieved the highest rank in a druid grove. They advised kings and queens, and their knowledge could turn war into victory or defeat. I had been taken down by a druid-triad, three people working together whose combined abilities were more than the sum of their parts.

“How long have I been out?” I asked.

He didn’t answer, his eyes half-closed as he maintained the vestige of the sleeping spell on me. The sound of a door opening broke the silence. A gust of essence rolled over me, a female Danann fairy whose signature was more pronounced than anything I had ever sensed. The archdruid glanced over my head, nodded, and excused himself. The woman didn’t move or speak, and I assumed she was one of the Fianna taking over guard duty.

When I had reached the point where I wasn’t thinking about her anymore, she moved, striding across the room to the empty chair. The sleep spell deadened my full reaction, but I’m sure she saw it in my face.

“I am Maeve,” she said, as if she needed an introduction.

The freaking High Queen of the Seelie Court at Tara was sitting four feet away from me. Dressed in black leather battle armor with silver filigree shaped in ancient Celtic swirls designs, the woman who ruled all the Celtic fey, who challenged the Elven King and changed the political landscape of an entire hemisphere by existing, reclined in the chair like she was taking afternoon tea with friends. Her wings rippled and undulated to either side, layer upon layer of gossamer membranes lifting and lowering in a mesmerizing display of color. She didn’t have her helm on, allowing her long black hair to fall and pool at her waist. I couldn’t look away from that face—expressionless yet sharp-featured, and pale, almost pearlescent. Hypnotizing was the word. Even at a glance, it was easy to see how she had captivated the world. In her right hand, she held the spear.

I flexed my wrists in their bindings. “I’d shake, but I’m a little indisposed.”

She flicked her fingers. A ball of essence puffed through the air, and the bindings vanished. I rubbed my wrists and stretched my legs. Both my daggers were gone. I nodded at the spear. “I believe that’s mine.”

Maeve looked at the spear as if she had only then realized she held it. “This? Take it.”

The streak of essence that registered my access to the spear glowed in my mind. I summoned the spear with a mental command. It glided upright across the room and into my hand. The dark mass jumped in my head as if jostled awake. A small smile creased Maeve’s lips, and the sleep spell amplified. She clenched her fingers, and the spear jumped back to her. I didn’t feel it leave my hand. “Before you held the spear, it was Ceridwen underQueen’s. Before her, it was mine. No one owns the spear, and anyone it chooses remains chosen.”

I stood, unsteady on my feet. “Thanks for the info. I’ll be going now.”

She thrust her hand at me. “Sit.”

My knees obliged and bent. The faith stone flared in my head but calmed as soon as it started. “So what’s the game, Maeve? The Elven King’s death wasn’t enough? You want a scorched earth?”

“The fate of the world is no game, Connor Grey,” she said.

I laughed. “Right. Of course. And only you can save it by destroying a city.”

She leaned back in the chair and lightly held its arms. “This city’s misfortune was fated a century ago with Convergence. Events merely unfold to their inevitable conclusion.”

“Convergence doomed Boston? Seems like the trouble it has is that you neglected your people here,” I said.

She tilted her head. “I am surprised you think that. Do you know nothing of history?”

“I know you let the Guildhouses rot from within. I know you use defense against the Consortium as an excuse for war. And now that Donor’s out of the way, you think destroying the Elven kingdom will make you the sole fey ruler,” I said.

Her face remained intent, but curious. “And to what purpose have I done all these things, Connor Grey?”

I shrugged. “Good question. Most times I think it’s because you’re a power-hungry asshole.”

“Everyone is driven by power. Without power, kingdoms fall. Realms vanish. Without power, the Wheel of the World does not turn. Of course I’m driven by power, Connor Grey, just like you.”

“Yeah, I don’t think we’re much alike,” I said.

She smirked. A High Queen smirking at me felt more condescending than even I was used to. “The first thing you asked for when you awakened was a weapon,” she said.

That stung a little. “I thought defending myself might be prudent,” I said.

“You sound like Donor.” Her tone indicated that wasn’t a compliment.

I grunted, unflattered. “Was he wrong?”

She pursed her lips and shook her head, amused again. “No, actually, but misguided. He never understood that I acted in both our interests. He was selfish that way.”