Undone Deeds by Mark Del Franco Page A

windows, and hand-woven rugs in muted shades of green and blue covered the floors. Everything about them spoke of glamour and money except the view. We sat at a table beneath a brick arch, the top of the frame of a warehouse Palladian window. The Tangle spread below, ramshackle rooftops of water towers and chimneys, odd plumes of essence rising and falling in dark colors. It wasn’t beautiful, but it was fascinating to watch.
    Ceridwen didn’t wear her red leather Hunter getup in her private quarters, but more casual, feminine outfits. Today she wore a light, sleeveless blouse and orange shorts. She tucked her shoeless feet up on the seat as she studied the chessboard between us. If it weren’t for her diaphanous wings moving with a languid ripple in the air-conditioning, she could have been mistaken for a young woman passing the time on a hot day. She moved a pawn across the board.
    “Your move,” she said.
    We had taken to playing chess, a game we both loved but rarely played because no one would play us. We were pleasantly surprised to find we were evenly matched. I moved a bishop into position. “I’ve heard the police aren’t coming into the Tangle at all anymore.”
    Ceridwen’s eyes shifted back and forth as she surveyed the board. She took the bishop out with a knight. “Your move.”
    I pursed my lips. I didn’t think she’d expose the knight, but I wasn’t going to let it slide. I moved my rook and took the knight off the board. “It’s funny, ’cause violent crime has actually gone down.”
    Without pausing, she moved her bishop to protect her king. “Your move,” she said
    The board was getting tight, but I saw a scenario that would gain me an advantage. I shifted a pawn one square. “Your move, Your Majesty.”
    She captured the pawn with one of her own. She had something going, but I couldn’t see it. I took out the pawn. “Your move.”
    She slid her queen along the side of the board, just shy of my men. Something was forming on the board, the lines of conflict crisscrossing.
    I saw the opening I wanted and slipped another pawn off the board. “Your move.”
    She leaned back in her chair. “I don’t need the police. Given enough latitude, people fall into acceptable behaviors. I need you to go to Ireland,” she said.
    “Why me?” I asked.
    “I trust you. I’m ready to move my people there, but I need someone on the ground for logistics,” she said.
    “My passport’s probably flagged. I doubt I’d set one foot on the plane,” I said.
    “Drive to Canada and fly from there. I’d prefer that. I don’t want anyone knowing you’re there except my contacts. They’ll get you what you need,” she said.
    “Whom have you recruited to your cause against Maeve?” I asked.
    “The Seelie Court is made up of many underKings and -Queens who do not love Maeve,” she said.
    “Enough to commit treason?” I asked.
    Ceridwen smiled. “Maeve has violated the most fundamental laws of our Court, Grey. She caused the death of an underQueen. It is not treason to hold her accountable for it.”
    “You’re going to war,” I said.
    “Maeve has moved her forces onto the Continent. Tara is empty. I cannot let the opportunity pass,” she said. She took a pawn out with a rook.
    I reached for another pawn, then withdrew when I realized I would lose my other bishop. “Ceridwen, I know she betrayed you, and, well, you ended up dying, but do you really want to start a war over your death? More people will die.”
    She chuckled. “Wars have been started over lesser things.”
    “This isn’t Faerie,” I said.
    “No, it’s not, but the same rules apply. The threat of war often accomplishes more than war. The Seelie Court never was about one person, but Maeve has made it so. While she wastes time and resources threatening the Teutonic Consortium, the rest of the Celtic fey suffer. It’s time for a change, either with Maeve or without her.”
    “She doesn’t sound like the type for