Home > Iron Kissed (Mercy Thompson #3)(51)

Iron Kissed (Mercy Thompson #3)(51)
Author: Patricia Briggs

Tad and I share a certain disregard and distaste for authority. He probably had a plane ticket in his hand.

"Don't come," I said after a moment's fierce thought. The Gray Lords wanted someone guilty and they didn't care who it was. They wanted a quick end to this mess and anyone who stood between them and what they wanted would be in danger.

"What the hell happened? I can't find out anything." I heard in his voice the frustration I was feeling, too.

I told him as much as I knew, from when Zee asked me to sniff out the murderer to the blind woman who had just come with Tony - including Zee's unhappiness with me because I had told the police and his lawyer too much. My gaze fell on the walking stick, so I added it into the mix.

"It was a human killing the fae? Wait a minute. Wait a minute. The guard who was killed, this O'Donnell, was he a swarthy man, about five-ten or thereabouts? His first name was Thomas?"

"That's what he looked like. I don't know what his first name was."

"I told her that she was playing with fire," Tad said. "Damn it. She thought it was funny because he thought he was doing her such a favor and she was just stringing him along. He amused her."

"She who?" I asked.

"Connora...the reservation's librarian. She didn't like humans much, and O'Donnell was a real turkey. She liked playing with them."

"He killed her because she was playing games?" I asked. "Why'd he kill the others?"

"That's why they quit looking at him as the killer. He had no connection to the second guy murdered. Besides, Connora didn't have much magic. A human could have killed her. But Hendrick - "

"Hendrick?"

"The guy with the forest in his backyard. He was one of the Hunters. His death pretty much eliminated all the human suspects. He was pretty tough." There was a crashing sound. "Sorry. Stupid corded phone - I pulled it off the table. Wait a minute. Wait a minute. A walking stick, huh? It just keeps showing up?"

"That's right."

"Can you describe it to me?"

"It's about four feet long, made of some sort of twisty wood with a gray finish. It's got a ring of silver on the bottom and a silver cap with Celtic designs on the top. I can't think why someone would keep bringing it back to me."

"I don't think anyone is bringing it to you. I think it is following you around on its own."

"What?"

"Some of the older things develop a few quirks. Power begets power and all that. Some of the things made when our power was more than it is now, they can become a little unpredictable. Do things they weren't meant to."

"Like follow me around. Do you think it followed O'Donnell to his house?"

"No. Oh, no. I don't think it did that at all. The walking stick was created to be of use to humans who help the fae. It's probably following you around because you are trying to help Dad when everyone else has their fingers up their noses."

"So O'Donnell stole it."

"Mercy..." There was a choking sound. "Damn it. Mercy, I can't tell you. I am forbidden. A geas, Uncle Mike said, for the protection of the fae, of me, and of you."

"It has something to do with your father's situation?" I thought. "With the walking stick? Were other things stolen? Is there anyone who can talk to me? Someone you could call and ask?"

"Look," he said slowly, as if he was waiting for the geas to stop him again, "there's an antiquarian bookstore in the Uptown Mall in Richland. You might go talk to the man who runs it. He might be able to help you find out more about that stick. Make sure you tell him that I sent you to him - but wait until he's alone in the store."

"Thank you."

"No, Mercy, thank you." He paused, and then for a moment sounding a bit like the nine-year-old I'd first met, he said, "I'm scared, Mercy. They mean to let him take the fall, don't they?"

"They were," I said. "But I think it might be too late. The police are not accepting his guilt at face value and we found Zee a terrific lawyer. I'm doing a little nosing about in O'Donnell's other doings."

"Mercy," he said quietly. "Jeez, Mercy, are you setting yourself up against the Gray Lords? You know that's what the blind woman is, right? Sent to make sure they get the outcome they want."

"The fae don't care who did it," I told him. "Once it's been established that it was a fae who killed O'Donnell, they don't care if they get the murderer. They need someone to take the fall quickly and then they can hunt down the real culprit out of sight of the world."

"And even though my father has done everything he can think of to dissuade you, you're not going to back down," he said.

Of course. Of course.

"He's trying to keep me out of it," I whispered.

There was a short pause. "Don't tell me you thought he was really mad at you?"

"He's calling in his loan," I told him as a knot of pain slowly unknotted. Zee knew what the fae would do and he'd been trying to keep me out of danger.

How had he put it? She'd better hope I don't get out. Because if I got him out, the Gray Lords would be unhappy with me.

"Of course he is. My father is brilliant and older than dirt, but he has this unreasoning fear of the Gray Lords. He thinks they can't be stopped. Once he realized how the wind was blowing, he would do his best to keep everyone else out of it."

   
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