Mark Del Franco - Uncertain Allies

“On what basis should we grant you such a thing?” macGoren asked.

“I face death at the hands of the Consortium should I return to my homeland,” he said.

“That is a lie, sir,” said Donor.

MacGoren ignored him. “Many people fear such a fate. Why would the Consortium seek your death?”

“Maybe because he’s a mass murderer?” I said.

MacGoren frowned. I was ruining his drama. “I asked you a question,” he said.

“Treason, sir. I have failed my king’s orders, and he contrives to accuse me of his own crimes,” he said.

“And what orders were these?” macGoren asked.

Vize cocked his head back and tried to restrain a smile. “The destruction of the Seelie Court and the death of High Queen Maeve.”

Gasps, some genuine, rose from the observers. I saw what macGoren was after. Accusing Donor in public for directing assassination plots against Maeve would take attention away from the missteps the Guild had made in Boston. It was a stupid blunder. The media victory for the High Queen would blow over, but Vize wasn’t ever going to provide any real information about his terrorist network, not after all he had done to destroy Maeve. He wanted her dead as much as Donor did.

“What an idiot,” I muttered.

I’ve been trying to tell him, but he’s ignoring my sendings, Briallen sent.

“These are grievous claims, sir,” macGoren said.

Vize bowed his head. “I am ashamed for how I’ve been manipulated by the Elven King. In humility, I ask for the High Queen’s aid.”

MacGoren gestured with the scepter. “You ask for protection?”

Briallen cleared her throat. “My lord, as a director of this Guildhouse and a member of the Seelie Court, may I speak?”

MacGoren glared. As much as he didn’t want to allow it, he wasn’t about to silence Briallen ab Gwyll in front of reporters. “Pray, be brief, Lady Gwyll.”

“This man is not known for his honesty. Before you grant him protection, a formal investigation into his claims would be in order.”

“I hear your words, lady, and consider them. This man is well-known to the Guild and the Seelie Court. He would not come to us were he not in fear of his life, I think,” macGoren said.

“Then arrest him for the crimes of which he is accused, sir. We can assess his words best with deliberation than grant him protection in haste,” she said.

He made a point of shifting in his seat to face away from her. “Thank you, Lady Gwyll. We have noted your suggestion and will let the record show it. Bergin Vize, you must know that this protection does not excuse you from any crimes committed against the Seelie Court. Do you still seek protection under this understanding?”

“I do, sir,” he said.

See, I know what I’m doing, macGoren sent us.

Briallen let me hear her response sending. Leaving the door open to prosecute him doesn’t explain why he’s doing this, Ryan.

MacGoren ignored her as he stood. “I represent Her Majesty, High Queen Maeve at Tara. In her name, I extend you protection. Bow before me in this place and address yourself to the High Queen’s seal.”

Vize complied, going to one knee before the three cups in the floor tiling. The black mass spiked in my head, and I let out an involuntary gasp.

Briallen took my arm. “What is it?” she asked in a low voice.

“The dark mass is shifting in my head. He’s doing something,” I said.

Briallen moved closer to macGoren. “Ryan—please—don’t go near him.”

A murmur rose among the people who heard her. MacGoren paused, anger building in his face as white shots of essence danced in his wings. “Enough, Briallen. You’ve said your piece.”

He lifted the scepter. “Bergin Vize, I grant you protection of Her Majesty, High Queen Maeve at Tara.”

I clutched my head against the pain as Vize rose, a smile on his face. His arm snaked forward as shadowed darkness and wrapped around the scepter. The blue beryl shattered from his touch. Startled, macGoren tried to pull away. With a flick of his arm, the shadow undulated and yanked the scepter from macGoren’s hand. Vize slammed the ebony rod down on Maeve’s seal in the floor. White essence burst from the fractured tiles and threw me against the wall.

I stumbled to my knees, gasping as pain sliced through my mind. White light blinded me, pure essence searing the air. The marbled floor pressed hard and cool against my palms as I fought the urge to throw up. The dark mass jumped and shifted in my mind with no discernible purpose, like a trapped animal struggling to escape. I shook my head, trying to clear it, trying to see around me. Several feet away, Briallen crouched, holding macGoren by the shoulders as he pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes.

The light from the floor intensified and rose in a ball of brilliant white. A spot like a deep blue star burned in its midst, smoldering with power. The essence dimmed, coalescing into a piece of triangular blue crystal, its edges flickering with a deep forest green. The white aura diminished as my eyes adjusted, the spot resolving into a stone hanging in the air.

Donor Elfenkonig stared at the stone, cold satisfaction on his face. Vize stood to one side, clutching his blackened arm against his waist. If the pain in my head was any indication, Vize was fighting to keep his own darkness from escaping. Donor reached out and closed his hand around the stone, incandescent light bleeding out between his fingers. The essence flickered and vanished.

A deep moan rattled through the air. The floor trembled beneath my feet, my vision blotched by the sudden absence of the essence light. Donor turned in confusion as cracks spiraled from the shattered floor medallion. The walls twisted on their moorings, shattering the long ranks of windows. I stumbled, ducking to avoid shards of glass. Winds blew from every direction as the hall was exposed to the outside. An electric static ran through the air.

“The shield dome’s down!” someone shouted.

It wasn’t true. I forced myself to stand. I sensed that the dome had weakened, but it remained. The release of the faith stone had damaged it somehow. A ripple ran through the floor, and a fissure opened as I struggled to Briallen’s side.

“MacGoren’s blinded. We have to get him out of here,” she shouted above the howling of the wind. Briallen hardened her body shield around her and macGoren. With a screech, the sky bridge separated from its moorings, splitting open to the outside. The floor canted down, and I grabbed Briallen as she lost her footing. We struggled to hold macGoren, pulling up as the floor sloped away from the main part of the building. With a gut-wrenching lurch, the floor gave way. I sailed through the air and landed hard on a fractured ledge outside the building.

Above me, the sky bridge remained attached to the opposite tower by thin cabling, but moved in a slow swing away from the main portion of the Guildhouse. On the tower side of the gap, Briallen struggled to hold an unconscious macGoren from sliding off the bridge. She secured him against a fallen column.

“Don’t move. I’ll come get you,” she shouted down to me.

A cloud of essence blossomed around her as she rose in the air. Another shudder ran through the building, and macGoren slipped from the column toward the broken edge of the bridge. Briallen hesitated, then settled back to pull him to safety. The thick tower in front of me swayed. “Get macGoren out of here. I’ll be fine.”

We’re thirty floors up, she sent.

“I don’t care about macGoren. You do. Get him out of here. I’m going after them,” I shouted against the wind.

Briallen stared toward the sky. Guild agents whirled in confusion around the damaged bridge. Another chunk crumbled, plunging through a roof below, which collapsed inward and pulled a section of turrets with it. The center of the hall bridge fell away, smashing into the main building. “You can’t stand up to the Elven King,” Briallen said.