Undone Deeds by Mark Del Franco Page B

compromise,” I said.
    I moved my remaining knight. Ceridwen glanced down at the board, then at me. “When faced with two courses that will lead to the same result, which would you choose, Connor? The one that causes bloodshed or the one that causes even more?”
    “I guess it depends on one’s principles,” I said.
    “I have you in checkmate in six moves. You lost this game two moves ago. Shall we continue?” she asked.
    I laughed as a knock sounded from the door. Ceridwen glamoured her face with a haze that masked her features as a servant answered the door. A young dwarf entered, cap in hand, his blunt face giving him the appearance of age. He bowed. “Forgive the intrusion. The Lord of the Dead asked to be informed if any scryers were about, ma’am.”
    Ceridwen had kept her identity a secret from even her followers. By wearing the glamour, they thought—or feared—that she was the mythical King of the Dead who rode out on a horse of fire bringing death to the unwary. I think she liked the outfit more than the mystery. “What say you?” Ceridwen asked.
    “A strange woman has entered the Tangle. She scrys as she walks but speaks not,” he said.
    “No one can scry any longer,” Ceridwen said.
    “Indeed. I tremble to err,” the dwarf said.
    I stood. “You know what? I’ll take this. If anyone can tell a true scryer, I can.”
    Ceridwen faced the chessboard, her expression invisible behind the glamour. “You didn’t finish the game.”
    “Save it. I have six moves to prove you wrong,” I said. Her laugh followed me out the door.

11
     
    The dwarf led me through an abandoned floor of an old brownstone. All the walls had been blown out, the support structures replaced with essence barriers to hold up the roof. I didn’t like places like it in the Tangle. The barriers often needed to be recharged to keep a building from collapsing, and it was never clear who or why someone maintained the empty buildings. I always worried I was in a building that was about to come down on my head.
    The dwarf stopped at an open window and pointed. “She should be coming through any second. You can see her from here.”
    I looked down into the street, a jagged stretch of a pavement that connected two main avenues. In the middle of the lane, a feminine figure wore a sequined white jumpsuit with red boots. People grouped on the sidewalk, more curious about a large flat package than the strangely dressed figure. The package caught my eye, too—was probably what was catching everyone’s eye down there. It blazed with essence. The strange part under the circumstances was thatthe essence resonated like scrying. Even four flights up, it pulsed against my senses. I kept my body shield activated as a matter of course in the Tangle. Even though the stone suppressed the problems the dark mass gave me, the darkness still reacted to scrying. It pressed against the stone, a heated wave of pain, struggling to shut me down.
    “That’s a friend of mine. Pull him out of there,” I said.
    The dwarf snorted. “Are you sure that’s a friend?”
    “Bring him to the Hunter’s hall. I’ll meet you there,” I said.
    He looked me askance. “Is that wise?”
    “It’ll be fine. It’s shielded, so people will lose interest.” The hall was Ceridwen’s receiving room, where she appeared as the Hunter to her people.
    The dwarf crawled out onto the fire escape. I didn’t watch him descend but made my way back through the building. The next floor down had a missing wall into the next building, which had a crumbling sky bridge across the alley behind it. From there, I hit the roof and walked the length of the block, then down a stairwell into the basement and into a tunnel. Secret and convoluted paths riddled the Tangle, which made it possible for so much illegal activity to occur. I had been learning the routes, more for expediency than secrecy. People knew I was down here, but I didn’t have to make it easy for them to track my