“Connor, it’s Keeva. We have a situation. Get yourself to a secure location and call me immediately.”
That didn’t sound good. The next message came up.
“Connor, call me, dammit.” Keeva again. She actually sounded concerned.
The next message was from a different Guild number.
“Hey, it’s me. Just checking if you were dead. If you aren’t, call me. If you are, call me anyway.” Okay, for Meryl to put in a check-in call, something definitely was up.
I was only a couple of blocks from the Guildhouse. At the end of Commonwealth Avenue, I entered the Public Garden, a turn-of-the-century Victorian walking park surrounded by intricate cast-iron railings. Even at the tired end of fall, it manages to look attractive. The formal paths wind through a strange collection of statuary as well as landscaped flower beds and specimen trees, all now dormant.
I decided to call Keeva first. As I hit dial, my shields sprang up with such force, I hunched forward in pain. Simultaneously, a bolt of essence grazed my shoulder, and I spun off my feet. I could feel heat across my back, but no direct pain, so I didn’t think I was on fire. I rolled to my feet and ran for cover behind a tree as another bolt flew past me. I ducked down as tree bark splattered through the air.
I felt a cold pressure slam into my forehead, a forceful sending. Where are you? Keeva’s voice reverberated in my head.
I couldn’t send my thoughts back. One of the many things I couldn’t do anymore, my mental sendings just went astray. A bolt hit the tree as I realized I’d dropped my phone when I got hit. It lay about ten feet away. Another bolt struck, and the tree groaned and crackled. It hit close enough for me to recognize what it was—elf-shot, the expression of essence that the elves used. I dove away in a tumbling roll and grabbed the phone. Essence struck around me from two directions now, and I scrambled on my back trying to find the source. I wedged myself between a statue and the fence encircling the park.
More fey-bolts shot around me, but the bane of the fey proved itself in my favor. Between the bronze in the statue in front of me and the iron in the fence at my back, the shots warped around me and went wild. I had landed in a safe zone between conductive metals. I called Keeva.
“Where the hell are you?” she said when she picked up.
“Under fire in the Public Garden.”
“Give me your exact location.”
“I’m behind the statue of…” I twisted to see whose statue I was under. A fey-bolt struck it in the neck, and the head toppled down next to me. The abolitionist senator Charles Sumner stared eyelessly at me. “I’m behind the headless statue.”
“Security’s on its way.”
The bolts of essence intensified. Whoever was out there was getting closer. I recognized a new noise, the loud hum of Danann fairy wings. In moments, more fey-fire rained down, only this time scattering in a pattern around me. Bolts stopped striking near the statue. Something dark swept overhead. Seconds later, a Guild security agent landed next to me, his featureless helmet tilted down at me. Without a word, he grabbed me by my shoulders and hauled me up. He spun me around, wrapped his arms around my chest, and launched us into the air. Several more security agents above us laid down a covering fire of essence to block another attack. We rose above the park, but I lost sight of my defenders as we swept behind the line. Below, I could see several people running, mostly humans getting out of the way. Here and there, shots of essence raked through the park from figures dressed in black and red leather. TruKnights.
The security agent flew me away from the fight, over the final block toward the Guildhouse. As we rose above a hotel roofline, I could see the area in front of the Guildhouse cordoned off and more security agents stationed both on the ground and in the air. The agent brought me in close, avoided the front, and landed us on a balcony of one of the highest turrets, the landing platform for the security division. Without a word, he took off again. I stepped into to a large room and found more security agents preparing for duty.
“Someone will be coming for you, sir,” a young Danann said as passed me and ducked into an adjoining room. I went to the door and watched him lifting boxes from the floor. A line of lockers covered one wall with a gym-style bench in front of them. Above, a number of helmets sat on a long shelf.
“Are those helmets always there?” I asked.
The Danann straightened up. “You’re not supposed to be in here.”
“I’m not ‘in here.’ I’m at the door.”
He moved toward me. “Well, step back. We’ve had some problems, and no one’s allowed in without permission.”
I nodded at the helmets. “One’s missing, isn’t it?”
He placed his hand on my chest, not threatening, but with enough pressure that told me to step back. He looked out the door. Apparently, after satisfying himself that no one was within earshot. “How do you know that?”
“When did it go missing?”
“Four days ago.”
I nodded. The timing was right. “Do you know whose helmet is missing?”
He spoke without looking at me, checking on the room instead. “They’re not assigned. People just grab them. The landing bay is shielded. The helmets register when they leave and when they return, so we don’t have to keep a head count in an emergency. Someone took off from here four nights ago and didn’t return. It was the middle of the night, not a regular shift change, and no record of a security call.”
“How’d they get in?”
He shrugged. “The ready room door is warded, but anyone with the right security level is allowed in.”
“And it’s a pretty high level if I remember.”
He nodded. “Look, I don’t know how you found out, but we’re keeping it internal for now. It’s not going to look…hey!”
He shoved me and ran for the landing bay. About a hundred feet out from the bay, security agents jostled for space as they came in for a landing. One group in tight formation carried someone, and another swept in from above too quickly. A flurry of wings and bodies bumped and pushed together. Whoever was carrying the passenger lost his grip. I watched horrified as I recognized Nigel Martin falling through the air. Agents dove after him.
With my senses on hypersensitivity, I saw a plume of essence ripple the air around Nigel. His descent slowed as he spread his arms. Like a bad joke, the agents attempting a rescue shot right past him. Nigel righted himself and rose, levitating the remaining distance to the building. He stepped onto the platform like he had just stopped by for a cup of tea. Within moments, agents swarmed around him in concern.
Not realizing I was holding my breath, I exhaled in relief. I should have known Nigel would pull that trick. It takes enormous control and energy, but high-level druids can do it. I had managed to get myself only a couple of inches off the ground before my accident, but then, I was still young by druid standards. Nigel had age and ability.
Looking bemused, he pushed his way through the anxious crowd. “I’m fine, gentlemen,” he said. He stopped short when he saw me, a curious expression on his face. “Connor, good to see they didn’t drop you, too. I imagine your luck would not have extended to the spontaneous return of your abilities.”
You could have heard a pin drop. The security guards pulled away from him. It took a moment for me to realize my mouth was hanging open, and I clamped my jaw shut.
“That was a horrid thing to say,” Keeva said behind me. I turned. She stood at the door, wearing her signature black jumpsuit, her unglamoured wings fully open and shimmering with white and silver light. She stepped to my side. “Are you all right?”
I removed my coat and examined the scorch across the back. “Yeah. Could use a new coat, though. Thanks for the backup.”