Chimes at Midnight: An October Daye Novel (21 page)

“Great. We look forward to hearing from you.” There wasn’t anything else to say—I couldn’t thank her—and we had far too much to do. I turned, beckoning for Quentin to walk with me. Tybalt turned as well, pacing us as we walked out of the Library to the bookstore.

The transition was just this side of painful, like walking through a curtain made of Pop Rocks. I stopped, gasping a little. Tybalt put a hand on my shoulder to steady me, looking alarmed.

“October?” he asked.

“Toby?” asked Quentin.

I bit my lip before I could snap at them. In that moment, I saw my future if I couldn’t fix this. My allies—my best friends, my
family
, the people I loved more than anything else—would never adjust to me being this breakable. They’d treat me like I was made of glass until we could change the balance of my blood. Maybe they were right to feel that way. Humans without protectors have never had much of a life expectancy in Faerie. It still made me want to scream.

“Quentin, why don’t you go let Danny know we’re almost ready?” I asked.

“Okay . . .” said Quentin, frowning as he looked from me to Tybalt and back again. I raised an eyebrow. He went.

Tybalt removed his hand from my shoulder as the bookstore door swung shut behind my squire. “You’re . . . unhappy,” he said, cautiously.

“True, but that’s not why I sent Quentin away.” I sighed, raking my hands back through my hair. “Tybalt. I need you to do something for me. It’s something you’re not going to like, and I’m sorry about that. It’s still important.”

His expression went blank, features smoothing out until, for a moment, he looked like the impassive King of Cats who used to lurk in alleys for the sole purpose of annoying me. “You are going to attempt to send me away,” he said. “What in this world or any other could convince you to try something so foolish?”

“Tybalt, please.”

“Did you fail to notice that the
last
time I allowed myself to separate from you, you wound up in your current condition? Why would I step aside and allow the chance that something even worse might happen? It is too dangerous. No. I refuse.”

“
Tybalt
!”

My voice was impossibly loud in the tight confines of the bookstore. He stopped talking. Even through the gloom, I saw his eyes widen.

I took a shaky breath. “We can’t do this.”

“I don’t know what you—”

“Just . . . just listen to me, okay? Tybalt, I
love
you. I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want to die on you. But I can’t have you trying so hard to protect me that you won’t even let me tell you what I need. That’s not the relationship we both agreed on. That’s not who you are to me, or who I am to you. We save each other, remember? This isn’t supposed to be one-sided.” I raked my hair back again, harder this time. “I need your help, but you’re so wrapped up in the idea of protecting me that you’re not even letting me explain.”

Tybalt opened his mouth like he was going to protest. Then he stopped, going still for several seconds before he sagged, seeming to grow smaller before my eyes. “You say you can’t have me protecting you. I understand that, I do. But I can’t stand by and let you risk your life. It is already taking everything I have not to carry you to your mother’s tower and lock you inside until we can fix this.”

“See, the fact that you admit to wanting to do that, but didn’t actually try it? That’s why we’re here, having this conversation. I love you, Tybalt. I don’t want to leave you.”

“Then what, little fish, would you have me do?” He took a breath before raising his hand to my cheek. “In this matter, I am yours to command.”

“I need you to go find my mother,” I said, putting my hand over his and holding it against my face. “The Luidaeg offered to try, but I know you did it once before, when you weren’t sure I was really myself. I know you
can
. And if we don’t find a hope chest, she may be our only option.”

“You told the Luidaeg . . .”

“Yeah, well.” I allowed myself a tight smile. “If Mom tries to turn me all the way human, you’ll have your fingers around her throat before I can start screaming. She’s not stupid. She’d never have lived this long if she were stupid. So please? Will you do this for me?”

“I am . . . not comfortable with the idea of leaving you alone.”

Judging by the tightness of his tone, that was the understatement of the year. I loved him even more in that moment. What I was asking him to do was as necessary as it was unfair. The fact that he was even willing to consider it was a testimony to how much he wanted this to work—and how much he wanted to save me.

But if I gave in, if I played the damsel in distress and let him stay with me, I wouldn’t be me anymore. I couldn’t do that.

“I know,” I said. “I’m not too happy sending you away. But Danny will be with me. You know, the mountain that walks like a man. And Quentin will be there. And we’re heading for Goldengreen, which means the armies of the Undersea will be there to back me up if anything goes wrong.”

“And should something happen, I won’t be there to stop it.”

“I know. But that also means you won’t be fighting to protect me when I don’t want to be protected. We have to find a balance between what I am and what I’m supposed to be, and that means I need you to do this, Tybalt. Please. For me.”

“For you, and against my better judgment,” he said, and leaned in, and kissed me.

I didn’t pull away. There are kisses shared in passion, and kisses shared in anger. Some are sweet, and others are bitter. This one was sad, and frightened, and it tasted like tears—his and mine, although I hadn’t seen him shed any. He took his hand away from my face, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me close. I went willingly. There was no telling how many kisses we had left, and it would have been cruel to both of us to try to turn this one aside.

My human senses meant the taste of pennyroyal and musk was almost completely absent. In a way, that was nice, because it meant I could focus purely on the physical: his chest pressed against mine, his skin hot under my hands, and his heart, beating rapidly enough that I could feel his pulse through my entire body.

The kiss lasted less than a minute. It felt like it lasted forever, and when he pulled away, I found myself feeling strangely lost. I wanted to kiss him again. I wanted to tell him I had changed my mind; he couldn’t go, not now, not when there was no telling what would happen next. Maybe I would die, and I’d do it without kissing him ever again.

There is always a last kiss. Sometimes we’re just lucky enough to know when we may have had it.

“I love you,” I said. This time, I was the one who put my hand against his cheek; this time, he was the one who covered my fingers with his own. “Now, please, go find my mother. Give me another way of getting out of this.”

“I love you, too, October. There is no other reason I would allow anyone to ask something so cruelly unfair of me.”

He stepped backward, leaving my hand to hang in the air as he turned and dove into the nearest patch of shadow. I stayed frozen for a few more seconds, blinking back tears. Then I lowered my hand and walked toward the door.

I had work to do. And I didn’t know how much time I’d have to do it.

Q
UENTIN WAS IN THE BACKSEAT of Danny’s cab when I emerged from the bookstore. I walked around to the front passenger seat and practically threw myself inside, digging the flask of fireflies out of my jacket before my butt even hit the seat. “We’re good,” I said. “We need to get over to Goldengreen. Danny, you know the way?”

“I do,” he rumbled, watching me uncap the flask. “Where’s kitty-boy? And what are you doin’ with the bugs?”

“Tybalt is running an errand for me,” I said. I stuck a finger into the flask, asking, “Does one of you want to help me?” A firefly lighted on my fingertip. I pulled it out and placed it against my chest, managing not to shiver as the glowing insect walked onto my collarbone, finally settling against the hollow of my throat. Its tiny legs tickled against my skin.

My instinct had been right: as soon as the firefly settled, the car seemed to snap into sharper focus. The colors became brighter and the details more distinct, despite the lingering darkness. The rocky planes of Danny’s face stopped looking like an extremely well-made mask. I was seeing Faerie again.

“And the bugs?”

“As long as I have one of these on me, I can see things the way I’m supposed to.” I blinked rapidly, trying to keep myself from starting to cry again. I hadn’t realized how much of a relief it would be to see the world properly. “We should still ask Marcia for fae ointment, just so I’ll have a backup, but for right now, everything looks the way it’s supposed to.” I recapped the flask and tucked it back into my jacket before fastening my seatbelt. “Let’s go.”

“You’re the boss,” said Danny, and hit the gas.

My stomach rumbled as the car pulled away from the curb. I dug the baggie of blood gems out of my pocket and popped one into my mouth. The rumbling decreased, but didn’t stop. That was . . . not a good sign, definitely, but not terribly surprising. My body wanted goblin fruit. Blood might cut the craving for a little while; that didn’t mean it was going to work forever.

“What are those?” asked Quentin.

“Walther made them,” I said. “They’re . . . nutritional supplements, I guess.”

“Made them out of what?”

“My flash-frozen blood.” I could move on to the lozenges the Luidaeg had made for me, if I had to, but I didn’t have to be an alchemist to know that once I started taking the strong stuff, I wouldn’t be able to go back. It was better to stick with my own blood for as long as I could, and save the Luidaeg’s for when I really needed it.

Quentin made a face in the rearview mirror. “That’s gross.”

“You know, we have got to get you a blood magic teacher after all this is taken care of. You’re Daoine Sidhe. You shouldn’t share my aversion to blood.”

Danny snorted. “Best blood-worker in Faerie—’cept your ma, and she doesn’t count, since she hasn’t done any blood-work in years—and you still can’t stand the sight of the shit. Doesn’t that strike you as a little ironic?”

“Please don’t start an argument about what ironic means right now,” I said, replacing the baggie of blood gems in my pocket before sagging into my seat and closing my eyes. “Let’s just get to Goldengreen without any problems.”

“You’re the boss,” said Danny again, and hit the gas even harder.

I couldn’t stop myself from cracking open an eye and watching the city falling away in the side-view mirror, waiting for the moment when an enchanted motorcycle or a black horse with flaming hooves would loom up behind us. The Queen knew Danny was one of my allies. He’d defended me to her face once, even though it could have gotten him into serious trouble. It would make sense for her to have had the car followed.

Danny caught what I was doing and snorted, sounding amused. “Don’t worry about it, Tobes. She ain’t following us.”

“What?” I sat up, turning to face him. “Why not?”

“’Cause we’re in a moving car that’s been enchanted seventeen ways from Sunday to keep the iron in the frame from bein’ a problem. Plus my mechanic doesn’t like it when I get tickets, since paying those off sort of cuts into my disposable income, so she’s got a bunch of don’t-look-here and hide-and-seek and nope-not-yours charms in here. Queen might be able to find us when we’re sitting still. Dunno. But when we’re moving, we’re invisible to anybody doesn’t know just what they’re looking for. So relax. It’s cool.”

“How is Connie, anyway?”

Danny grinned, a little sheepishly. “She’s good. Real good.”

“How’s her schedule looking? I may want to ask her about making some of these modifications to my car. It would sure be nice to be able to drive around without worrying about being tracked.”

“Yeah, that’s a good point. I’ll check and see if she has any big jobs comin’ up.”

Quentin leaned forward, bracing his hands against the back of the seat. “So, have you asked her out yet?”

Danny couldn’t really blush—rock isn’t much for showing subtle changes in skin color—but he scowled like a champion. “None of your business, pipsqueak.”

“You should, you know. She’s smart, she’s funny, she has her own business . . . she could do way better than you. If you don’t jump, she’s going to find somebody who will.”

“Kid’s right.” I smirked at Danny. “Connie’s pretty much got it going on. What’s the problem?”

“I may take romantic advice from the kid, but I ain’t listening to you,” Danny said. “You had to nearly die before you’d listen to me and get with the big kitty. Didn’t I tell you ages ago that you should?”

“Yes, you did, and now we’re telling you to get with Connie. Besides, she’s a Gremlin. For her, fixing your car is about as intimate as it gets. And she didn’t give
me
a bucket of bonus concealment charms.”

Danny sank lower in his seat, grumbling. “I don’t like you ganging up on me.” There was a note of relief to his complaint. He liked seeing things trend toward normal as much as I did. Wasn’t that the trick, though? Life was one long series of efforts to reach the golden mean, where everything was the way that it was supposed to be. Where we could tell jokes with our friends and tease them about their love lives, and no one had to die for it to happen.

I wanted normal back. And that meant seeing this through.

It was late enough that the parking lot was almost empty when we reached the San Francisco Art Museum. The few cars that remained gleamed faintly, revealing the presence of concealment charms. I glanced fondly down at the firefly that was resting on my collarbone. “You’re awesome, little guy,” I said.

Maybe it was my imagination, but the insect seemed to glow a little brighter after that.

“I’m not sure the cliff-side entrance would be a good idea right now,” I said, getting out of the cab. “I mean, it might work. Or it might decide I’m too mortal to be allowed inside the knowe and dump me into the ocean. Drowning doesn’t sound like a good time to me.”

“You pushed May off that cliff once,” said Quentin.

“May is indestructible; I’m not,” I said. “Can you get us in through the shed?”

He nodded. Danny and I followed him out of the parking lot and into the weeds that grew on the stretch of unlandscaped field next to the museum.

Quentin led us on a looping route that seemed to follow no pattern or trail, until we reached an old, rust-covered shed that looked like it should have been demolished years ago to make way for something newer and less likely to give tetanus to tourists. There was a large padlock on the door. Oak trees grew all around it, their branches spread above it like a canopy. It wasn’t visible from the parking lot. Somehow, no one ever seemed to find that strange. It was just another part of the museum. The human tendency not to ask questions when the fae don’t want them to has served us very well over the centuries.

Voices seemed to whisper from the tall grass as we approached the shed. They were softer than I was accustomed to them being, more believably tricks of the wind blowing off the water. They were accompanied by a feeling of “you should turn back” that was stronger than normal, like the spell had adjusted itself to match my heritage. The more human an intruder was, the less they’d hear the voices, but the more they’d hear the whispered threats.

Quentin walked to the door, where he bent and said something to the lock. The voices stopped, and the wind seemed to still. If I strained, I could catch the faintest hint of steel and heather perfuming the air. Then the stillness passed, and the door swung open, despite the padlock remaining in place. “I love that trick,” he said, sounding pleased with himself.

“You can have a cookie when we get home,” I said, and walked past him, into the knowe—

—only to hit the hallway floor on my knees as the transition between the mortal world and the Summerlands struck me like a hammer. I gagged. It hadn’t been that bad at the Library, but Libraries were special cases, built in shallowings and designed to move when necessary. Goldengreen was a permanent structure. Its roots went deep, and it was not a place where humans belonged.

Massive hands slid beneath my arms, lifting me back to my feet with a surprising gentleness. I slumped against Danny’s chest. It was an unyielding surface, but it was better than the floor. My lungs felt like they were three sizes too small, and my head was spinning.

“That
sucked
,” I said.

“I’ve never seen you fall down like that,” said Quentin. I turned toward him. His eyes were so wide that I could see the whites all the way around his irises. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just . . . yeah.” I’d seen Marcia make the crossing a dozen times without problems. It must have been the goblin fruit making things even worse—that, or the fact that I was currently even more human than she was. I coughed into my hand and straightened, steadying myself against Danny before taking my hand away. “Let’s go find Dean.”

A group of pixies rushed by overhead, their wings chiming like bells. They vanished through the door that led into the courtyard. I blinked.

“Pixies usually go where there’s food,” I said. “I guess everyone came upstairs for lunch?” It would have made more sense to stay down at the beach, where the Undersea army would be more comfortable, but this wasn’t my invasion to plan.

We walked down the hall to the courtyard, me trying to pretend I didn’t notice how closely my companions were sticking, them trying to act like they weren’t waiting for me to fall. Then we stopped, all of us staring through the open door as we tried to make sense of the scene.

Dean was there, in close-held argument with Marcia, both of them making tight, quick gestures with their hands. Patrick was sitting on one of the low walls that supported the flowerbeds, his head cradled in his hands. Dianda was nowhere to be seen.

And neither was Arden.

I cleared my throat. All three of them looked toward us. Their expressions only drove home the idea that something was terribly wrong. Patrick looked numb; Dean, panicked; and Marcia, who had served as my Seneschal and knew me better than either of the other two, relieved. Then her relief flickered, turning into bewilderment as she really
saw
me, and realized I wasn’t wearing a human disguise.

“T-Toby?” she said uncertainly. “Oh, oak and ash, what happened?”

“I think I need to ask the same question,” I said. “What’s going on? Where’s Arden? Where’s Dianda?”

“Arden ran,” said Dean. His voice sounded hollow. I wasn’t sure he’d even registered the change in my appearance. “After the Queen arrested my mother, Arden ran.”

“What?!”
It felt like the word had been ripped out of me by unseen hands. I stared at him, unable to wrap my mind around what he was saying. “What do you mean, the Queen arrested Dianda? On what grounds?”

“Sedition and conspiracy to incite rebellion,” said Patrick. He sounded a little better than his son. I guess after years of watching the Queen’s policies chip away at the relationship between the Kingdom of the Mists and the Undersea, he’d stopped hoping for anything better. “She came in here with a dozen guards and said she had proof that Dianda was at the head of a campaign against her. She took my wife to be imprisoned until the Queen of Leucothea could be contacted.” A weary smile creased his lips. It was the sort of expression a convicted man might wear on the way to the gallows. “I suppose it’s a good thing I recanted my title when I chose the sea over the land. The Queen ignored me completely.”

“Me, too,” said Dean, sounding confused.

“Yeah, which just proves this is a farce,” I said. Saltmist was a part of the Kingdom of Leucothea, the nearest Undersea demesne. But Goldengreen belonged to the Mists. “This is
your
land, Dean. If she was arresting people on charges of sedition, you should have been the first against the wall.” He looked sick. I wrinkled my nose. “Sorry about that, and if it helps, I have no idea how she found out. I don’t know how she found out any of this. Did the Queen really come here? The actual Queen, not a representative?”

“It could have been a Gwragen under an illusion, but I don’t think it was,” said Marcia. Everyone turned to her. She shrugged, touching the thin layer of faerie ointment that gleamed around her eyes. “I can’t always see through illusions, but I can almost always tell when someone is wearing one. The woman who came here looked like the Queen; commanded like the Queen; scared the crap out of the pixies like the Queen; and she wasn’t wearing any disguises. I don’t think we’re worth that much trouble. Not Goldengreen.” She paused before adding, “And she was singing. No one could move while she was singing.”