Whatever he said, it made Fideal lose control of whatever magic he'd been doing to block my nose. The whole building suddenly reeked of swamp. But it stank more in one place than any other.
I ran for the place where the shadows were the darkest.
"Mercy, halt," Zee said.
I swung the walking stick as hard as I could. It connected with something and stuck for a moment, then blazed as brightly as the sun.
Fideal shrieked again and made one of those impossible leaps, jumping over the Rabbit and up against the far wall, knocking the walking stick from my hand as he leapt past me. He wasn't down or even hurt. He just crouched in a manner no horse could ever adopt and stared at Zee.
Zee didn't look like someone worthy of the wariness of a monster. He looked as he always had, a man past middle age, lanky and rawboned, except for his small pot belly. He bent over Warren, who started coughing as soon as Zee touched him. He didn't look at me when he spoke. "He's all right. Let me handle this, please, Mercy. I owe you at least this."
"All right." But I picked up the walking stick.
"Fideal," Zee said. "This one is under my protection."
Fideal hissed something in Gaelic.
"You grow old, Fideal. You forget who I am."
"My prey. She is mine. They said. They said I could eat her and I will. Barnyard animals they give me. That the Fideal should be reduced to eating cow or pig like a dog." Fideal spat on the ground, showing fangs blacker than the grayish slime that coated his body. "The Fideal takes its tribute from the humans who come into its territory to harvest the rich peat to heat their houses or the children who venture too close. Pig, faugh!"
Zee stood up. The area around him lightened oddly, as if someone were slowly turning up a spotlight on him. And he changed, dropping his glamour. This Zee was a good ten inches taller than mine and his skin was polished teak instead of age-spotted German pale. Glistening hair that could have been gold or gray in better light was braided in a tail that hung down over one shoulder and reached past his waist. Zee's ears were pointed and decorated with small white slivers of bone threaded through piercings that ran all the way around them. In one dark hand he held a blade that was identical to the one he'd let me borrow except that it was at least twice as long.
Shadows pulled away from Fideal, too. For a moment I saw the monster that Adam and his pack had fought, but that gave way to a creature that looked like a small draft pony, except that ponies don't have gills in their necks--or fangs. Finally he became the man I'd first met at the Bright Future meeting. He was crying.
"Go home, Fideal," Zee said. "And leave this one. Leave my child alone and your blood will not feed my sword. It, too, hungers and it feeds best on things less helpless than a human child." He waved a hand and a motor spun to life, lifting the garage door next to Fideal.
The fae scrambled out of the pole barn and disappeared around the corner.
"He won't bother you again," said Zee, who once more looked like himself. The knife was gone, too. "I'll speak to Uncle Mike and we'll make certain of it." He held out a hand and Warren used it to pull himself to his feet.
Warren was pale and his clothes were wet as if he'd been immersed in water, seawater from the smell of him. He straightened himself slowly, as if he hurt.
"Are you all right?"
Warren nodded, but he was still leaning on Zee.
The walking stick was just in front of Zee's foot--the blackened silver knob had smoke gently rising from it.
I picked it up gingerly, but it was as inert to my touch as the stick I'd thrown for Ben on Saturday. "I thought this was only good for making ewes have twins."
"It's very old," said Zee. "And old things can have a mind of their own."
"So," I said, still looking at the smoking stick. "Are you still mad at me?" Zee's jaw stiffened. "I want you to know this. I would rather have died in that cell than have you suffer that madman's attack."
I pursed my lips and gave him my truth in exchange for his. "I'm alive. You're alive. Warren's alive. Our enemies are dead or vanquished. That makes this a good day."
I went to work on Monday morning and learned that Elizaveta, the pack's very expensive witch, had been by and done cleanup. The only trace of my run-in with Tim were the scars I'd left on the cement while I was trying to destroy the cup. Even the door Adam broke had been replaced.
Zee had come in on Friday and Saturday, so all my work was caught up. I had a few bad moments, which I had to hide from Honey, who was Monday's guard, but by lunch I'd reclaimed the shop as mine. Even Gabriel's hovering (after school was out) and Honey camped in my office didn't disturb me as much as I'd expected. I finished at five sharp and sent Gabriel home. Honey followed me to my driveway before going home herself.
Samuel and I ate take-out Chinese and watched an old action flick from the eighties. About halfway through, Samuel got a call from the hospital and had to leave.
I turned off the TV as soon as he was gone and took a long hot shower. I shaved my legs in the sink and took my time blow-drying my hair. I braided it, reconsidered, and wore it loose.
"If you keep fussing, you'll make me come in and get you," Adam told me.
I knew he was there, of course. Even if I hadn't heard him drive up or come in, I would have known he was there. There was only one reason that Samuel wouldn't have called for a replacement. He'd known Adam would be over soon.