Mark Del Franco - Uncertain Allies

“Move,” I said. I didn’t raise my voice, but it sounded odd in my ears. His face went blank, almost ashen, and he stepped aside. Murdock caught my arm as I walked down the stairs where a gate was open to the platform. I didn’t bother using the gap in the fence, but walked onto the tracks and into the tunnel. Smoke trailed along the ceiling. I kept my body shield on until I reached the concrete niche, and we stepped through the glamour.

It was a long, dark walk down the stairs to the tunnel passage. Dim light marked the end, a dull glow of emergency lights. Murdock and I entered the empty office. We stared at dust hanging in air, the computer monitor flickering blue. I went into the outside corridor and froze.

Meryl ran down the hall and into my arms. I hugged her in shocked relief like I had never hugged anyone before. She tilted her face toward mine, surprise coming over her features.

“Holy shit, what happened to your eyes?” she asked.

I spun a rack of sunglasses and found a pair of designer knockoffs I liked. They covered the upper half of my face with wide dark lenses but didn’t make me look like I was on a bus tour for retirees. I handed the vendor a few bills. As I pushed back into the crowded lane, someone stared a little too long. Anxiety twinged at me, but I tamped it down. Everyone stared in the Tangle. It was part of the game. People pretended not to notice each other and avoided conversation but cast sidelong glances at anyone near them.

Intermittent pressure pushed at my mind. Despite everything else, scrying still bothered me. My body shield protected me from the pain, but I hadn’t learned to ignore the constant irritation yet.

I reached the end of the stalls and slipped through an essence barrier across a doorway. Silence surrounded me in the empty tunnel. At the exit, another barrier let me through to an outside street. The air held the scent of sea and smoke, but it was fresher than the contained alleyway of the market. I turned the corner onto the main drag of the Tangle and tugged my hat down.

Within a few minutes, Meryl was beside, matching my stride. She paused to examine some apothecary wares at a decrepit stall. The vendor dressed in rags and spoke in broken Welsh. Meryl bartered with him in his dialect until a stone was exchanged for a small bottle containing deep purple leaves. She slipped it in her pocket.

“He doesn’t appear to be a purveyor of fine goods,” I said.

She looked at me from beneath her bangs. “On the contrary, he’s one of my best suppliers. The look and the talk are all bogus. It keeps the fools and timid away.”

I pulled her into the shadow of a boarded-up storefront and kissed her. “I’ve missed you.”

She leaned against me with a smile. “One of these days, Grey, you’ll live somewhere with air freshener and maybe a bed, and I’ll visit more often.”

“I have a bed now,” I said.

She tugged at my jacket. “Something bigger than a twin, please.”

“Any updates from Gillen Yor?” I asked. Three nights ago, I had snuck into Avalon Memorial for an exam. Gillen thought it best to be discreet. I was a wanted criminal again. MacGoren had accused me of complicity in the destruction of the Guildhouse, and Briallen’s denials were falling on deaf ears. I didn’t blame her for anything. It was out of her control. It was out of everyone’s control.

Meryl gazed at the passing crowd. “Gillen thinks you still have the dark mass. There’s something else in there now, a chunk of essence that burns blue. I saw the MRI scan. It looks like a sun in eclipse.”

“It’s the faith stone,” I said.

She gave me a lopsided grin. “Yeah, you have a rock in your head.”

I feigned a pout. “Technically, it’s a gem.”

Meryl tilted her head up. “Take off those glasses.”

I pushed them up on the fold of my knit cap. Meryl’s eyes shifted back and forth as she stared into mine. My irises had crystallized, facets of light blue framed in lines of white. When the light hit them right, flashes of red, yellow, and blue twinkled. They reminded me of the eyes of an Old One, the sign of long life and ancient ability. Only, I didn’t have any ability. The pain of the dark mass was gone, replaced by a cold pulsation. At least my body shield was back—my full body shield. Whatever the faith stone was doing to the dark mass, it was letting me access the shield again. Without other abilities, it was a comfort.

Her smile faded, and she looked away. “Does it hurt?”

I frowned. “Did Gillen say I was dying?”

She dropped her head against my chest. “No, but that doesn’t mean I’m not worried.”

“It doesn’t hurt, at least not the same. I don’t really feel it. It’s like it’s weightless,” I said.

“These things tend to be metaphors for the power they represent. It’s not really a stone. We see what we need to see to make sense of the ineffable. It’s power that was embodied by the stone, but it’s all energy now,” she said.

I hugged her. “I always get nervous when you get religion.”

She giggled. “Nice to know I can make the guy who killed the Elven King nervous.”

“I was trying to stop him,” I said.

She rose on her toes and kissed. “I know. I was trying to lighten the conversation before I left.”

I tugged at her waist. “Do you have to go?”

“I’m still shoring up the power wards in the Archives. I don’t want to lose anything else,” she said.

Manus ap Eagan had used the faith stone to strengthen the Guildhouse and reinforce the shield dome. When Donor took the stone, it didn’t affect the subbasements because they were part of the original design, dug deep underground for stability in the landfill of old marshland. Despite an entire building’s collapsing, the Archive storerooms had survived with minimal damage.

“Have you told anyone they’re still there?” I asked.

She chuckled. “Nah. I figure I have at least a couple of months to play before they dig them out. It’ll give me a chance to do all the filing I keep not doing.” She kissed me again. “Murdock says hi, by the way. He said to tell you this all has a purpose, and it’s not for us to judge.”

He meant not for him to judge. He wasn’t buying the party line that I had destroyed a neighborhood. “He’s a good guy.”

Meryl danced away from me. “No, he’s a great guy. And so are you. I’ll be back in a few days. Try not to kill or be killed while I’m away.”

I smiled. “Will do.”

I waited until she disappeared from sight before leaving the storefront. I put my glasses back on and wandered a circuitous route through the streets, weaving in and out of alleys, through basements and abandoned buildings. Finally, I slid through an essence barrier to a room furnished with a table with a few chairs, an old couch, and a—twin—bed. The light from the window shimmered with a sallow tint from the ambient essence endemic to the Tangle.

I slumped on the couch, exhausted. The last week had been filled with running and hiding, dodging everyone from the Boston police to Guild security agents to Consortium warriors. Briallen couldn’t take me in without drawing heat down on herself, and we both needed her to be able to operate in the open. My apartment was an obvious no-go zone. Every major law-enforcement agency, fey and human alike, had my face on a wanted poster.

After abandoning one hiding place after another, I had gone to ground in the Tangle, lost among the lost, secure in a nest of criminals and thugs. While the living feared and hated me, the Dead embraced me with open arms. How long that would last, I couldn’t guess, but it wouldn’t last. Doubt had become the nature of my World.

The Wheel of the World didn’t turn, but twisted and spiraled until everything I thought I knew became confused beyond recognition. Friends became enemies, and enemies, friends. Whom to trust and whom to suspect became a game of odds, a precarious knife-edge of uncertain allies, ready to stand by me or not.