FIFTEEN
NONE OF US SPOKE UNTIL we were past the San Jose city limits. Riordan might not have been spying on us when we were on the way into her Duchy, but there was no way in hell she wasn’t going to be spying on us while we were on the way out. She was too clever, and too paranoid, not to keep an eye on us for as long as she could.
Li Qin turned to me once we were on the freeway. “Did that tell you what you needed to know?”
“Yeah. Riordan’s dangerous because she’s not a crazy bitch. Bitch, yes. Crazy, no.” I sighed. “I think I like it better when they’re nuts. At least then I don’t have to worry about them using actual logic against me.”
“Is she involved?” asked Quentin. “She was sort of creepy, but…”
“Her magic smells like apples and snowdrops. I smelled that combination in the Court of Cats. I don’t think Riordan went there herself—but I think her magic did. Does she know how to make blood charms?”
Li Qin nodded. “Yes. It’s how she sets her wards so firmly.”
“I figured.” Blood charms were a uniquely Daoine Sidhe way of getting around normal rules. Blood carries power; that includes magic, and it’s possible to “loan” or steal magic temporarily if you know how to properly work the blood. Evening Winterrose was always fond of blood charms. If Riordan was the same way, she’d be able to use them to boost her power, borrow abilities from others, and make wards that were both stronger and more specific than anything I could manage. In short, she had a big advantage.
I shook my head, trying to clear the first tinges of fatalism away, and continued, “Also, I never told her Chelsea was a teenager, and I never said which of Chelsea’s parents was human.”
Quentin paused. “What?”
“When I said Chelsea had called home, Riordan asked if she spoke with her human mother. Not ‘human parent.’ She knew which parent would have been there to pick up the phone.”
Silence fell in the car. Finally, Li Qin said, “None of this is proof.”
“See, the nice thing about not being a member of the nobility anymore is that I don’t need proof. I just need to be right. The knowe smelled like Chelsea’s magic; I smelled Riordan’s magic in the Court of Cats; Riordan knew which of her parents was mortal. And there’s more.” I took a breath before launching into a description of the phone call I’d overheard while I was hiding in Riordan’s hall.
When I was done, silence fell again. It lasted longer this time, until Quentin said, “I don’t like her very much.”
“Yeah, well.” I took my left hand off the wheel long enough to rake my hair out of my eyes. “Join the club, okay?”
“No one likes Treasa very much,” said Li Qin. “It’s part of her charm.”
“She has charm?” I asked.
“No,” said Li Qin, and laughed.
I shook my head and hit the gas harder. I wanted to get back to Tamed Lightning. I wanted to be sure Tybalt had been able to get out of Dreamer’s Glass without getting caught. And I wanted a cup of coffee really badly. My priorities may be strange sometimes, but they were good enough to make me drive almost thirty miles over the speed limit all the way to Fremont.
The smell of hydrangeas and black tea rose from Li Qin’s side of the car. I glanced over to see her playing cat’s-cradle with a piece of string, lips moving silently. Whatever she was doing didn’t involve casting a don’t-look-here or a hide-and-seek; I couldn’t feel any illusions on the car. But no one pulled us over, either.
The portcullis was up when we reached ALH. I drove through. Li Qin stopped her cat’s-cradle as the portcullis began to descend, letting her hands drop to her lap with a relieved sigh. I slanted a glance her way. “What was that?”
“I bent our luck. Kept the police from noticing you were speeding, kept any of Riordan’s spies who might have tried to follow from getting close enough to hear what we were saying.” Li Qin smiled a little. “It seemed like the best course of action.”
“Better than a speeding ticket.” I pulled into a space toward the front of the lot, and blinked at the empty sidewalk. “Huh. I expected April to come meet us.”
“She’s probably distracted by the company you sent her.” Li Qin unfastened her seat belt. “Let’s go rescue him.”
“Good idea,” I said, and followed her, with Quentin at my heels.
We walked through the reception area into the knowe and were starting to make our way through the cubicle maze when I heard voices up ahead. “Déjà vu,” I muttered. Voices in the cubicle maze greeted me when I first came to ALH. Li Qin looked pleased and started walking faster, making me and Quentin pick up the pace if we wanted to keep up with her. For someone short, she sure could move.
April turned as we came around the corner into the cube maze’s central meeting point, a quizzical expression on her face. Tybalt, who was sitting on the edge of the desk she’d been facing, didn’t rise. He just looked toward us and smiled.
I let out a breath I hadn’t been quite aware of holding, some of the tension slipping out of my shoulders. “Is there coffee?” I asked.
“Hello to you as well, October. You’re looking lovely, or at least not incarcerated, which is a definite pleasure, given where I left you.” Tybalt waved a hand toward April. “Countess O’Leary was explaining the functionality of her server systems to me. Fascinating stuff.”
It says something about how much practice Tybalt has had in the art of sounding interested when he isn’t that I didn’t realize he was kidding until he winked at me. “No arrests,” I said. “Riordan is involved in Chelsea’s disappearance, even though I don’t have any way to prove it to someone who could make her give Chelsea back. Now. Coffee, and then we have to hit the road.”
“Where are we going?” asked Quentin.
I paused, digging the Luidaeg’s Chelsea-chaser out of my pocket. It was glowing a neutral white. I sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe we’re not going anywhere. If we don’t know where she is, there’s no point in chasing after her, now, is there?”
“If you do not chase, I can provide coffee,” offered April.
“Coffee would be fabulous,” I said. “Let’s go.”
April nodded, and disappeared, apparently deciding that walking to the cafeteria would be a waste of her time. Li Qin started for the door, motioning for Quentin to join her. He glanced at me, then glanced at Tybalt, and followed her without looking back a second time. In a matter of seconds, the two of us were standing alone in the cubicle maze.
“Um,” I said.
Tybalt lifted an eyebrow, looking amused. “‘Um?’” he echoed.
“Nice weather we’re having.”
“I was unaware that you were interested in the weather.” He slid off the desk. “I am, however, aware of at least one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“I was proud of you today.” Tybalt stepped closer. The smell of pennyroyal and musk was suddenly strong. “You were cautious. You were careful. You hid when you were given the opportunity to hide, and you allowed me to assist you. You have no idea how relieved I am.”
“Tybalt, this isn’t—”
“Is your charm glowing?”
I glanced down before I thought better of it. “No,” I admitted.
“Then while this may not be the best time, it is almost certainly the only time we’re going to have. You’ve been frightening me lately, October, and more than me. Your lady Fetch has been concerned as well. The risks you’ve been taking—”
People telling me not to do stupid things and get myself hurt was sadly familiar ground. I narrowed my eyes, straightening. “The risks I’ve been taking are my risks to take.”
“You don’t believe that. Fortunately for both of us, I know what it sounds like when you try to lie to yourself by lying to me.” Tybalt’s voice was soft. “You have responsibilities in this world, whether you meant to take them on or not. To your squire, to my nephew, to your Fetch. To every friend and every enemy you’ve ever made.” He paused before adding,
“To me.”
“Tybalt…”
“I’ve stood by and watched you throw yourself against the walls of the world, because I hoped the impact might shake the sense back into you. We do not raise the dead by mourning them so fiercely that we join them. I wish we could. It doesn’t work.”
There was something deeply sad in his tone. “How would you know?”
“Oh, October.” Tybalt sighed, reaching out to tuck my hair behind my ear. He left his fingertips there, resting them against my skin. “Do you truly believe you are the only one, ever, to have lost someone you cared for? To have given something up because to hold it would destroy the very thing you treasured? You’re not as alone as you think you are.”
Tears welled in my eyes. There was a moment when I could have stepped into his arms, into whatever he was trying to offer me. But he was Tybalt, and Connor was gone, and it felt like letting myself move would be a betrayal, no matter how much I wanted it. I stepped away instead, leaving Tybalt’s hand hanging empty in the air.
“We’d better catch up with the others,” I said. “They’re going to be wondering where we are.” I turned before I could see the look on his face and went striding toward the door to the lawn between the buildings.
He didn’t follow me outside. I didn’t know whether to be glad or not. I crossed the lawn to the other building. The afternoon was waning toward evening, but ALH was still deserted as I walked toward the cafeteria. That struck me as odd. As a functioning computer company, there should have been people. I pushed open the cafeteria door, and asked, “Where is everyone?”
“Everyone presently in the knowe is in this room, with the exception of Tybalt, who is on the lawn,” said April. She was perched on the edge of one of the tables. Li Qin and Quentin were sitting more normally in chairs, each with a mug of liquid and a sandwich.
“Okay, that’s what I asked, but that’s not what I meant,” I said, stepping into the room. “Shouldn’t people be at work by now?”
“Ah!” April nodded understanding. “Under normal circumstances, they would be. Since these are not normal circumstances, I have given everyone the night off. I would prefer to avoid bloodshed if possible. It has been difficult to attract replacement staff after the last time.”
“Yeah, well, murder and mayhem do tend to upset most people.” I walked to the coffee machine, pausing only to take a mug from beside the sink. “Coffee.”
“Perhaps that will make you less unpleasant,” said Tybalt.
I jumped, whirling to see him standing next to the vending machine, arms folded, glaring at me. “Maeve’s bones, Tybalt! Just because April teleports everywhere, that doesn’t mean you have to start doing it, too!”
“What? You mean it irritates you when I appear and disappear in the middle of conversations?” He unfolded his arms, but kept glaring. “I’m pleased to see we still have a few things in common.”
“I can’t talk to you right now.” I turned my back on him, picking up the coffeepot and filling my mug instead. “April, telling everyone to stay home was smart. Now we just need to figure out our next smart move.”
“Can it be not dying?” asked Quentin. “I like not dying.”
“Yeah, it can.” I sipped my coffee, taking that moment to recenter myself before I turned back around to face the others. Tybalt was still there. That was something, anyway. “So we have not dying, finding Chelsea, and finding Raj. The last trace we had on Chelsea put her in or around Dreamer’s Glass. We’ve got nothing on Raj, except for knowing that wherever he is, he doesn’t have access to the Shadow Roads.” I paused. “Tybalt. The Shadow Roads. What do they connect to?”
“Ah, so now you can talk to me? Truly, I am honored.”
I sighed. “Okay, maybe I deserved that. I’m sorry. I mean the question seriously. What do the Shadow Roads connect to?”
Tybalt frowned. “The shadows, of course. Their anchors are in the Courts of Cats; the Kings and Queens keep them open with our presence. Without us, our subjects would be as trapped as those of the Divided Courts.”
“Raj isn’t a King yet. Can he hold the Shadow Roads open on his own?”
“For a time, yes.”
“What if he were in a place where Cait Sidhe hadn’t been in a really, really long time? Would he be able to open the shadows then?”
Tybalt’s frown deepened. “No,” he admitted. “Raj is a Prince, and a strong one, but I couldn’t have held the shadows at his age.”
“Would you know if he was nearby, but not exactly in the same place? Like if you were in a knowe, and he was right outside?”
“Yes. He is a Prince of Cats. I always know when someone with his potential is near.”
“Got it.” I turned to the table where Li Qin, April, and Quentin waited, watching me with puzzled expressions. “Quentin, I know what has to happen next, and you’re not going to like it.”
He sighed. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”
“I am, and I need you to stay here, so you can call me if the charm changes color. We don’t have to stay together, and it seems to react to proximity. I don’t want us to miss another chance to catch Chelsea.”
“What if you’re in San Francisco when it lights up? It’ll take you like two hours to get back here.”
“No, it won’t.” I turned to Tybalt. “Will you take me? I think I may know how to find Raj, but I’m going to need someone with access to the Shadow Roads.”
Tybalt’s lingering frown faded into a look of resignation. “We’re going to talk later.”
“I guessed that part.” I finished my coffee in one long drink. “April, keep an eye out. Quentin, don’t get yourself killed.”
“I’ll do my best,” he said.
“Good.” I walked over to Tybalt. “We need to go to Shadowed Hills.”
“Then you need to hold your breath.” He put his hands around my waist, a little tighter than strictly necessary, and he stepped back, into the dark.
I don’t know how the Cait Sidhe navigate the Shadow Roads, any more than I know how they can breathe there. They must be able to, at least a little. Tybalt is in good shape, yes, but there are limits. He kept one hand on my waist, removing the other and twining his fingers with mine. Then he turned me around, and pulled me in his wake as he began to run.
Experience had made it strangely easy to trust him as he pulled me away through the absolute blackness and freezing cold. Whatever else I might be feeling, however confused I might be, I trusted him to bring me safe out the other side. I trusted him to—
I trusted him. Qualifiers were meaningless. Worse yet, he was right; I’d been pushing everyone away as hard as I could since Connor died, trying to isolate myself in order to protect my heart against further damage. Losing a lover and a child on the same day was more than anyone should be asked to bear. But how much could I ask my friends to bear? How much could I expect them to take before they said, “Fine, if you want to push us away, we’re going”?
Our emergence back into the light caught me by surprise. Tybalt kept running for a few more feet, letting us bleed off our momentum. Then he let me go, turning to face me. “Toby,” he said, surprise and delight coloring his voice. “You’ve stopped making yourself heavier than you need to be while we’re running.”
“What?” I blinked, feeling the ice crystals on my eyelashes stick together. I reached up to wipe them away. “What do you mean?”
“This time, while we ran, you didn’t think about how dark the shadows were, or how afraid you were of being lost there.”
“How do you—?”
“Because you came easily, and look.” He waved a hand. “We’re here.”
We were standing on a stretch of grass surrounded by sculpted wild rose hedges. They formed an elegant walking maze, cutting wide avenues through the greenery. Fountains and benches were studded here and there, offering convenient places for people to sit and talk, or rest their feet a little while before continuing on. The shape of the great hall was visible on the oth
er side of the maze, somehow managing to loom across the scene without becoming menacing.
“We are,” I said. “Come on.”
The maze was meant for idle wanderers, not for people who wanted to spend an entire night snared in a labyrinth. We made it through the hedges quickly, emerging onto a swath of lawn. Ahead of us was a gray stone patio, and doors from there led into the great hall. I didn’t approach. Instead, I stopped where I was, motioned for Tybalt to be quiet, and listened.
He watched with amusement as I turned to one side and then the other. Finally, I pointed to the left. “This way.”
“And why, precisely, is this way superior to any others?”
“Because this way leads to Luna,” I said, and started walking.
Luna Torquill is many things. A Duchess. A Blodynbryd—sort of like a Dryad, only connected to rosebushes, not trees. But above everything else, she’s a gardener. Always has been and probably always will be. And because she’s a gardener, even though Shadowed Hills has groundskeepers, she can often be found in the location of the most noise in the yard.
We came over a low rise to find ourselves facing a vegetable garden being harvested by half a dozen Hobs, a few Brownies, and one delighted Cornish Pixie, who was picking ears of corn from stalks nearly fifteen feet high. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t harvest season. This was Luna’s garden. It would ripen when she wanted it to. Luna herself was on her knees in a patch of strawberry plants, plucking berries from beneath the broad, flat leaves. Some were the normal red. Others were white with the faintest blush of pink, or so dark they seemed black.
“Luna?”
She straightened at the sound of her name. By the time we finished our approach, she was standing, and her gloves were in the basket with the berries. “October,” she said, sounding surprised. “And Tybalt. What are you two doing here? Is everything all right? Sylvester is inside…”
“We’re not here to see Sylvester,” I said. “We’re here to see you.” This was the tricky part. I needed her to help us. I wasn’t yet at the point of telling the Torquills what was going on.
“Me?” Luna blinked again. “Why me?”