Free Unquiet Dreams by Mark Del Franco Page A

relief when he clasped it.
    “Connor. Meryl tells me you’ve been doing well.”
    I looked at her quickly. She remained seated, leaning back in her chair behind her desk piled high with the usual assortment of papers. Her eyes shifted back and forth between Nigel and me, a curious, observant look on her face.
    “Yes, thanks. I didn’t know you were back,” I said.
    He smiled a careful, warm smile. “I’ve been busy.” He tilted his head toward Meryl. “Ms. Dian, it was a pleasure as always, but I must go.” He turned back to me. “Don’t be late tomorrow, Connor.” He stepped forward, and I backed awkwardly into the hallway to let him pass.
    “I won’t,” I said.
    “’Bye, Nigel,” Meryl called out, the enthusiasm trailing out of her voice.
    I watched him walk the length of the corridor in his signature steady stride that showed of many foot journeys. He reached the elevator and hit the button. The doors opened, and he stepped inside. Not once did he glance back at me, even when he pressed the inside panel. The doors closed on his back.
    I looked at Meryl. She wore one of her customary black outfits, a lace top with a formless V-neck sweater. She had decided to let her hair grow longer this year, almost shoulder-length. Today it was blond with magenta bangs. I thought it was cute, though I wouldn’t admit it and deny myself the chance to rib her about it.
    She furrowed a brow. “That was strange. Was that strange?”
    I dropped myself into the vacated guest chair. “That was strange.”
    “What did you do?”
    “Nothing,” I said, frowning. It hit me immediately. Nigel was pissed because I had done nothing. Here I was, two years after my accident, and I had not made any effort to deal with it until recently. Nigel is, maybe “was” now, my mentor. I had been his prize pupil. Briallen verch Gwyll ab Gwyll had initiated me into the mysteries throughout most of my teen years. When I hit a strapping eighteen years old, she turned me over to Nigel.
    Nigel wasn’t in the States when I had my accident. He didn’t come back either. I didn’t take it personally. He often disappeared for months at a time. It didn’t occur to me, though, that this had been the longest stretch of time between our meetings. “When did he come back?”
    Meryl closed one eye as she thought. “July.”
    “Three months! And you didn’t tell me?”
    She looked annoyed. “I wasn’t aware I was your social secretary. Besides, I assumed you knew.”
    “And yet you never mentioned him.”
    She gave me a level stare. “Uh, excuse me, neither did he, and it’s not my job to keep you up-to-date on my social life.”
    I playfully curled my lip at her. “Fine, fine. I’m just annoyed. I can’t believe he didn’t call.”
    “If I remember correctly, a lot of people don’t call you,” she said sweetly.
    “Ha-ha. Guess why I’m here.”
    She rolled her eyes. “You need something.”
    “Funny.” I smiled and held up the building pass. “I’m attending a Guildhouse board meeting tomorrow as Briallen’s alternate.”
    She chuckled and shook her head. “Priceless. The place really is going to hell.”
    “Go ahead, keep that up, and I won’t invite you for coffee,” I said.
    She leaned back in her chair. “I hear you got tossed from the Kruge investigation.”
    I love the Guild. Like all organizations with secrets, it’s a huge rumor mill. “I didn’t get tossed because I was never on it. I just happened to get to the crime scene before Keeva, and she pulled rank.”
    Meryl nodded. “I heard she wasn’t too happy about it. She’s been desperately trying to impress Manny. It’s driving him crazy.”
    “Manny? Since when do you call Manus ap Eagan ‘Manny’?”
    “We’re old friends. He wasn’t always Guildmaster, you know.”
    That gave me pause. Manus ap Eagan had been Guildmaster almost my entire life. I searched Meryl’s face for some hint of her age, but she looked no older than late twenties, early