“Bergin Vize is certainly curious about it,” he said.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Spill it.”
“He’s been spotted around Externsteine.”
If Tara was the Irish heartland of the Celtic fey, Externsteine in Germany served the same purpose for the Teutonic fey. Ancient rock formations formed a line of spires that the Teutonic Consortium claimed they had inhabited eons ago. It was outside the Teutonic Consortium’s homeland, but Donor Elfenkonig, the Elven King, was granted sovereign status over it.
“Celts haven’t been there in centuries. There’s no fairy ring at Externsteine,” I said.
Dylan leaned back on his hands. “I said fey portals are flaring — fairy rings, stone circles, standing stones — anything positioned at traditional sacred sites.”
My memory clicked. The ancient German tribes used stone pillars carved like trees to commune with the realms of their gods. The most famous, some say the only true one, was near Externsteine. It vanished in the Middle Ages. My Middle Ages. Who knows whether it still existed in the Teutonic regions of Faerie. Almost the first thing the Teutonic fey did after Convergence was restore the pillar at Externsteine and give it the original’s name. “The Irminsul,” I said.
Dylan nodded. “Reports say it’s alive with essence like this fairy ring. We know most every associate of Bergin Vize has gone deep underground. The pattern to their last sightings indicated they’re moving to join him at Externsteine.”
“Then the Elven King is supporting him?” I asked. It would explain why the Teutonic Consortium was no help with arresting him.
“If he is, he’s covering his tracks. We can’t make a connection,” said Dylan.
I stared at the fairy ring. “So Vize gets into TirNaNog. He’ll get the safe fey world he wants and stop trying to blow up this one. We’d be rid of him.”
Dylan perched one foot on the wall and rested his chin on his knee. “I’m not sure. If he wanted to get to TirNaNog, he could have someone kill him. He’d die and wake up there.”
“Not if he wasn’t sure it existed. Maybe he wants proof.”
He sighed, more in thought than exasperation. “According to the legends, the portals connect this world to the other realms. There’s no rule that says when you enter through one portal you can’t exit through another.”
“You think he’s going to go in through the Irminsul to come here? Is that why you’re worried about the Taint?”
Dylan let out a low chuckle. “Not here, Con. There’ve been Teutonic spies at Tara. I told you, we’re seeing evidence that a major assault is being planned. Three major portals are showing signs of opening to TirNaNog — here, the Irminsul, and the fairy ring at Tara. The Seelie Court wants to shut the portals down as a defense measure.”
I tried to wrap my head around that. “Shut them down? After all these years of trying to find a way back to Faerie, they want to shut down a possible way in?”
Dylan leaned back. “TirNaNog is only part of Faerie. If — and it’s a big if — TirNaNog opens, it doesn’t mean that it will lead to all of Faerie. If TirNaNog opens in Germany and here, it will probably open in Tara. Vize could use it as a path to attack the Seelie Court. If the Elven King is supporting Bergin Vize, Maeve could fall and the Celts with her.”
I shrugged. “Maeve has an army, Dylan. She won’t roll over for them.”
He nodded. “And her army is spread all over Europe. She can’t afford to pull troops back to Ireland on a ‘maybe.’ If Tara is attacked, Maeve will never be able to gather reinforcements in time. It’s a win-win situation for Donor Elfenkonig. By letting Vize do his dirty work, he either finds a way back to Faerie through TirNaNog and decimates the Celtic fey on his way or he stands aside while Vize attacks Tara through TirNaNog and ends up the dominant fey leader here. Either way, Maeve loses.”
Things shifted into place — the hearings, the pressure on me and Meryl, Ceridwen’s anger about the spear. “That’s why Ceridwen wants to know what happened at Forest Hills. They want to use the Taint.”
Dylan looked at me speculatively. “Boston is the wild card because it’s not an ancient fey site. Whatever’s happening in that fairy ring must be related to the Taint. If the Seelie Court can understand what happened that opened the portals, they might be able to control access to all of them. They need you and Meryl to cooperate.”
I hopped off the stone. “What the hell, Dylan? Is that why you asked me here? Make me feel all guilty about the past and get me to spill my guts about Forest Hills?”
“No. You’re misinterpreting my intention,” he said.
“Really? The Guild didn’t figure Connor Grey’s old pal would persuade him to help Maeve find a weapon she can use against the Elven King?”
He rocked forward and grabbed the edge of the seat. “Back off, Connor. I’m trying to manage a mess you helped create.”
I threw my hands out. “I didn’t create any mess. I didn’t make that control spell. Meryl and I told you guys everything. She almost died, and I can’t remember a damned thing.”
He shook his head. “That’s not good enough. You have to remember something. I’m not supposed to tell you all this, you know. Ceridwen would blow a fit if she knew the secrecy I’m breaching here. She’s been speculating that you are involved. Your feelings about the Seelie Court are hardly a secret. There are bigger issues here than you and me.”
I wanted to hit him. “That’s what Ceridwen said to me. You’re not helping your case.”
He set his jaw. “We need to know what you and Meryl know.”
An angry surge of adrenaline reached out to my abilities. The black mass in my mind was having none of it. Daggers of pain blocked the connection before it could form. “Go to hell, Dylan.”
I stalked away. In my anger, I didn’t pay attention to where I was walking. I stepped through the circle of mushrooms and entered the fairy ring. Red pain flashed across my eyes as the darkness in my mind convulsed. The essence of the ring resonated with a strange sensation of otherness, something slick and clinging as it touched my skin. My vision blurred, and the ground shifted beneath my feet. Everything went dark, and I had the impression of huge towering stones. In a flash, the familiar Victorian buildings around the Common reasserted themselves as I stumbled out of the ring. People lingering nearby stared at me like I was some kind of ghost.
Dylan stood to my left, far from the stone block I had left him sitting on. Panicked, he rushed to my side. “Are you all right?”
I shook my head to clear it. “I saw…” I stopped. I wasn’t sure what it was.
He held my arm. “What happened? You froze and then fell forward.”
I pushed him away. “Nothing. Get away from me.”
He reached for me again. “Con, let’s go somewhere and talk…”
I didn’t answer. I made my way down the hill toward the Downtown Crossing retail district. Dylan called my name a few times but didn’t follow me. I mingled in among shoppers, envious of their obliviousness. No one paid me any attention. People went about their business, catching a store still open or rushing home late from work. They didn’t look like they knew or cared about fairy rings or Faerie queens or strange essence portals. Good for them. They didn’t know how lucky they were.
I was tired. Tired of the unknown. Tired of the suspicions. Tired of getting sucked into Guild politics. I didn’t care about the fairy ring or Maeve or Donor Elfenkonig. I just wanted my life back. But every day it seemed the more I tried to heal myself, the more things changed for the worse. My mind was damaged. My abilities gone, my memory screwed. The constant pain in my head. I didn’t know if my memories were buried or just not there at all. And now I was hearing strange whispering voices and seeing people no one else saw. It was starting to scare me. After everything that had happened, maybe I was losing it. The worst part was trying to figure out if I would know I was losing it or if I would become too demented to know the difference.