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.”
“Part of the job,” she said and looked significantly at Nigel. “That goes for both of you.”
“What the hell is going on?” I asked.
Keeva looked around her. Half of the people in the room still had their helmets on. I could surmise what she was thinking. No telling who was listening.
“Let’s go to my office,” she said and left the room. I fell in behind her, and Nigel followed us into the hall. Keeva had left some underling holding the elevator for her, and we stepped in.
Keeva punched a floor number on the panel, anger on her face. “We had simultaneous attacks on Guild directors. Gerin and Ryan are at Avalon Memorial.”
The elevator doors opened. We cut across to the opposite side of the building, not speaking with any other people, and rode another elevator up to Community Liaison. Once in her office, Keeva strode around her desk and sat down, gesturing for us to sit.
“Gerin was meeting with Ryan when they were attacked by one of the human xenogangs. A flamethrower.” She grimaced. “They had a flamethrower. Gerin has minor burns.”
“How’s Ryan?” I had to ask. I wanted to know for my own reasons, but Keeva didn’t need to know that. Yet.
“He’s in surgery.” She paused for a moment. I had to hand it to her. She was demonstrating enormous control.
I looked at Nigel. “Where were you when this was happening?”
He arched an eyebrow. “I was with Manus ap Eagan.”
With a heavy sigh, Keeva dropped her head back and looked at the ceiling. “There was an attempt to break through the gate at the Guildmaster’s home. The last report we had on the dwarf director was that he had not left the Consortium consulate in days.”
“Convenient for him,” Nigel said.
“That’s what I was thinking,” Keeva said.
“Why would you think the Consortium is involved?” I asked.
Keeva and Nigel exchanged glances, but it was Nigel who spoke. “The dominant gang causing trouble in the city consists of elves, and it’s run by a troll. Can’t you put it together, Connor?”
“Are you saying the Consortium is behind this?” I asked.
Nigel nodded. “I’ve been monitoring their movements since the Fey Summit last spring. The Consortium is planning something. I think this is a trial run to test the will of Seelie Court.”
I looked from one to the other. “Alvud Kruge is dead,” I said.
“Your point?” Nigel asked.
“Marchgraf Alvud Kruge, Nigel. Do you really think the Consortium would kill one of its own people, married to a royal family member?”
“Kruge was hardly an ally of the Elven King. I don’t put anything past the Consortium,” he said.
I couldn’t believe they were so obsessive about politics that they were missing the obvious. “He was killed by a drug dealer, guys. The gang that attacked me were TruKnights. They’ve been trying to take over the Weird.”