Mark Del Franco - Uncertain Allies

I crossed to the main entrance of the library and entered the cool quiet of the old building. I climbed the marble steps without hurrying in case someone was, in fact, watching. In the portrait gallery of the third floor, Brokke lingered near the entrance to the special collections rooms. The top floor of the old library received few visitors unless a new exhibit was on display.

“No one is up here,” Brokke said. “If you sense someone coming up the stairs, I’m going down the elevator. You can still sense body signatures, correct?”

“I can,” I said.

He moved into the gallery space. “You should not have gone to Donor. He will kill you now at the opportune time.”

“I’m no threat to him,” I said.

“Not in any way you understand, but you will become one. He needs Vize to finish what Gerda Alfheim failed to accomplish,” he said.

“Is this faith stone the real deal? Can it really be that powerful?”

Brokke checked over the railing before responding. “It is perhaps the greatest stone ward ever created. Kingdoms were founded with it. Battles were fought over it. It made small men great and great men tremble. It grants the ability to sway men to one’s cause with utter fealty.”

“So, how does some dumb-ass like Veinseeker end up with one of the most important artifacts from Faerie?” I asked.

Brokke stared at the murals, a series of portraits showing the progression of religious history from paganism to Christianity. The pagans came off like the bad guys. “You are here-born, Grey. You have no idea what Convergence was like. We didn’t go to bed one night and wake up the next day in a new world. We were thrown here amidst war and confusion. Our memories were damaged. We didn’t know who we were. Most of us still don’t. Things got lost.”

After a hundred years, Convergence was still reverberating through the world. Whatever had happened between the Celtic and Teutonic fey that caused the merge was still being fought. Old wars died hard. “Veinseeker claims he doesn’t have it,” I said.

True surprise came over Brokke’s face. “You’ve met him?”

“Yep. He’s kind of a jerk,” I said.

Brokke worried his hand through his hair. “Then a confrontation is inevitable. The Wheel of the World turns as It will.”

I leaned against the railing and crossed my arms. “Really? Because I met the guy? I’m getting a little sick of the cryptic comments, Brokke. You’re playing me for something. I don’t like being played.”

“Meeting Veinseeker pulls you more into Donor’s web. You’re already connected to Vize and Alfheim. Maeve is watching you. The closer you get to the stone, the closer you come to death at Donor’s hand,” he said.

“I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“But you don’t walk away either. If enough people walk away, the inevitable struggle doesn’t happen,” he said.

“Is that what your vision tells you?

He wandered the gallery, looking at the wall murals. “I made a mistake a long time ago, Grey, and I do not want to repeat it. When Convergence happened, I had a vision of the end of everything we know. When I shared my vision, I lost control of it, and now I do not know where it ends,” he said.

“You told Vize the vision?”

“Not I, but he knows it and has tried his entire life to fulfill it for the Elven King, but you changed all that.”

I crossed my arms. “What does that have to do with me?”

“Knowing a thing changes a thing. My vision has driven Bergin Vize to madness. It could do the same to you,” he said.

“That’s not good enough, Brokke. I want answers. You warned me that Eorla might die in the riots, and I made sure that didn’t happen. She’s alive, Brokke. You owe me. Vize knows whatever you’re talking about. I can’t stop him if I don’t know what it is.”

Brokke pursed his lips and closed his eyes. He shook his head and muttered, as if arguing with himself. With a sigh, he looked at me. “The spear was in my vision, Grey. You awakened the spear, and it bonded with you. It bonded with Vize as well.

“And Ceridwen underQueen,” I said.

“Aye, and her. Something changed after my vision, something dark and unseen. I saw one person wielding the spear, not three. I thought it was Donor. Because of what happened to the spear, Vize thinks the vision was about him, not the king. Now he wants the stone because that was part of the vision, too. He thinks he can return us to Faerie. The only person strong enough to prevent him from keeping the stone is Donor. If you interfere, Donor will lose the stone.”

“That doesn’t sound like a bad thing,” I said.

“Only if the stone doesn’t end up in the wrong hands,” he said.

“Sounds to me that any hands are the wrong hands,” I said.

Brokke snorted. “ ’Struth.”

“It’s been hidden all this time. Maybe it should stay that way,” I said.

“If only that could be, Grey. These things are tied to the Wheel. They do not stay hidden. The spear, the stone, and the sword have all pushed into the path of the Wheel.”

“What sword?” I asked.

Brokke sighed. “The one in your boot. I knew it for what it was the moment I saw it. So did Eorla.”

Briallen had given me a dagger. When I found myself in dire circumstances, it changed size and shape and became a sword. I didn’t understand the mechanism of it; but when Brokke spoke, I realized it responded during times of great essence being expended. “I didn’t ask for that either. It was a gift.”

Brokke gave a sharp nod. “And a perilous one. I don’t know if you are drawn to these objects of power or if they are drawn to you. For you, everything hinges on what you do with these things. You can keep on this reckless course, or you can discard them.”

“I can’t walk away when people are dying, Brokke. There has to be another way,” I said.

He sighed. “I already gave you another way. Stay away from Vize. These are all signs from my vision, Grey. Faerie was just the beginning. The sword and the stone and the spear are here. It will take only one more thing to destroy everything if you choose wrongly.”

Before the conversation was even over, I knew I wasn’t about to walk away even though Brokke did. Voices floating up the stairwell spooked him, and he was in the elevator with the doors closed before I had a chance to turn around. Whatever his visions, I didn’t believe everything Brokke said. Like it or not, he worked for the Elven King. A lifetime of experience cautioned me against anything he said.

That didn’t mean I ignored him. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to understand that the spear was connected to the Wheel of the World. I had seen that in action. My sword was another matter. Enchanted swords littered the landscape in old Faerie. Mine had saved my ass at pretty opportune times, but not in any way that shocked me. Gerda Alfheim’s interest in the stone—to say nothing of her death because of it—was as red a flag as could be when it came to the stone, though. Whatever Brokke’s motives for warning me away, Veinseeker didn’t seem to have that option.

Brokke might have tried to convince me not to get involved, but his words had the opposite effect. Vize was after Veinseeker. I was after Vize. To track my quarry, I had to track his. Ceridwen had verified enough of what I told her to kick him out. She had made a mistake in expecting Maeve to have her back when she needed it. She wasn’t about to make the same one with an exiled dwarf who wasn’t invested in her cause. A few well-placed questions throughout the day helped me follow Veinseeker out of the Tangle.

I wanted to pity Nar as I tailed him. He moved like a man defeated and a man on the run. The open air of main streets meant danger, and he avoided them at every turn. Time after time, he slipped into a disheveled building, home to squatters or illicit dealers, and was turned away. Individuality ruled the Weird, but community made it function. Nar had proven more than once that he couldn’t be relied on, and no one was willing to take a chance by letting him in.