Uncertain Allies by Mark Del Franco

essence, chanting and muttering as she worked. I had experienced much the same process many times over the years. To someone who couldn’t see essence, it wasn’t that interesting, an exercise in one person touching another. For me, it was like watching someone play an instrument. My essence-sensing abilities had become acute, almost painfully so, and for the first time I saw how someone of Briallen’s skill worked with essence. She moved it through Murdock’s body, tapping essence nodes like a tuning fork, making their bindings dance like reflexes. I never realized the complexity of a single body signature until her work exposed my ignorance. Her precision showed me why I hadn’t sensed anything more than human from Murdock when I first met him. The druidic essence markers were there, subtle but strong, bound so delicately into his dominant human body signature, I would never have known what to look for.
    With a deep exhale, Briallen dropped her hands in her lap. “That’s it. Time for drinks.”
    She hopped off the stool and crossed the hallway to her second-floor parlor. A small blue fire burning in the grate flared brighter as Briallen poured glasses of port, essence dancing through the air and boosting her body signature. I hadn’t realized she used the fire as an essence source. We settled into the armchairs facing the flames.
    Briallen held her glass up. “Slainte.”
    Health, of course. We toasted it all the time, but this time it was more than mouthing the words. We tapped glasses.
    “First, let me say, there is nothing wrong with you. Your essence is fine and healthy,” Briallen said.
    Murdock shot me a satisfied look. “I’ve been saying that all along.”
    “A stronger essence shows through a weaker one. You can’t hide druid essence under human. How is it possible we didn’t sense it before Castle Island?” I said.
    Briallen sipped her port. “Leonard doesn’t have a druid essence separate from a human essence, Connor. He has his own unique signature, one that reads more human than not. He’s human, but some essence pathways read druid. For all her flaws, Moira Cashel was a talented druidess. If I can think of a spell to suppress the druidic aspects of Leonard’s essence, I’m sure she could.”
    “By why didn’t we see it before?” I asked.
    “I think when you boys were caught in the spell backlash at Castle Island, Moira’s protection spell was probably damaged. When she . . . died . . . her spell did, too. Whatever her motivations in other matters, she was trying to protect her children,” said Briallen.
    “That’s the part I don’t understand,” Murdock said. “When we worked the Castle Island case, you said interbreeding between species caused problems, that the kids didn’t live past puberty.”
    Case studies showed mental and physical defects whenever two different fey species interbred. The more unlike the species, the greater the chance that progeny wouldn’t survive. “They don’t most of the time,” I said.
    “Moira had seven children. We’re all fine,” he said.
    I used my recall to review the case studies I had read back then. Druids looked human. We blended in without any problems, which was one of the ways Moira fooled her husband. “None of the cross-species cases we saw were druid/ human. Maybe that has something to do with it,” I said.
    Briallen tilted her head back in thought as if searching the ceiling for an answer. “Gillen Yor was researching cross-species children.”
    I glanced at Murdock. “I know. That’s where I got my original data from.”
    “You never told me that,” he said.
    I nodded. “I didn’t exactly ask him, and I know how you get about stuff like that. Does it matter now?”
    He shook his head in exasperation. “I guess it doesn’t. It still doesn’t get us any answers.”
    Briallen gazed into the fire. “Sometimes we look for answers when we should be looking for questions.”
    “Like what?” I asked.
    “Like why