“Now, then. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to greet you as soon as you pulled in, but I was just wrapping up a raid when the border alarms told me we had company.” A smile spread across Riordan’s face. I didn’t trust it one bit. “I’m glad to see Sergio and his boys didn’t damage any of you. Folletti can be so endearingly enthusiastic, don’t you think?”
“Raid?” I asked.
“You play World of Warcraft?” Quentin asked, almost at the same time.
“Sure do, sugar. On the internet, nobody knows that you’re an all-powerful faerie monarch, now, do they?” Riordan’s smile turned briefly more believable.
“All-powerful” was stretching things a bit, but hey. We were in her domain; if she wanted to be delusional, I wasn’t going to argue. “Your Grace, Li Qin is here because I wanted to request an audience with you. We’re trying to locate a missing changeling. I was hoping one of your people might have seen her.”
Riordan’s eyes narrowed. “Are you implying something, honey?”
“No, not at all. I just figured someone as connected and well-informed as you would be aware of anything strange that happened in your Duchy, and there are signs she went this way, at least for a little while.” I was laying it on a little thick. That probably wasn’t a bad idea.
“Hmm,” said Riordan, managing to sound interested and annoyed at the same time. It was a neat trick. “All right, then, if you were willing to endure her company,” she waved a hand at Li Qin, who held her silence, and her small, polite smile, “just to see me, I suppose I should let myself be seen. Li can show you where I keep the guests I don’t feel like dealing with. The Folletti will escort you to my receiving chamber in twenty minutes.” She turned to walk away.
“But you’re here now,” I protested, before I thought better of it.
Riordan looked back over her shoulder at me, and winked. “Gotta log off, honey. Otherwise, the guild will get annoyed with me, and you’re not worth that much. Ta-ta.” That appeared to finish things, at least for her; this time when she walked away, she didn’t look back.
“That was…” I said, and stopped, unsure how I could finish that sentence without bringing the Folletti down on my head. The fact that Riordan had left us standing in a big, empty room potentially full of invisible men who were hanging out just outside the range of my ability to find them wasn’t escaping me.
“I usually go with ‘bracing,’” said Li Qin. “Jan usually had a few other things to say, but she was smart enough to save them until we were home. Still, we have permission to be here now. Come on. I’ll show you to the foyer.”
Li Qin was short enough that keeping up with her was easy. Keeping myself from walking too fast and leaving her behind, now, that was hard. It didn’t help that Quentin was practically glued to my side, looking around as though he expected Riordan to leap out and propose shacking up at any moment.
“So,” I said, as we walked. “That was different. Given the way you’re dressed, I expected something a little more, you know. Traditional.” Probably including the traditional changing room just inside the knowe, where I could have cast an illusion over my own jeans, jacket, and T-shirt.
Li Qin laughed. “Riordan is very traditional, at least when it comes to making sure her guests know who’s in charge. If I dressed like this every day, she’d expect me to wear casual clothing when I came to see her. She wants people to be uncomfortable. That way, they never forget she’s in control.”
“Cute,” I said.
“Believe me, you’ve only scratched the surface.” We had reached the wall of the cavern, which looked like smooth, unbroken stone. After our arrival from the parking garage, it wasn’t really a surprise when Li Qin just kept going, disappearing into the gray without a ripple. I looked at Quentin, shrugged, and followed her through the wall.
The cavern-slash-garage was huge the way mountains or oceans are huge—naturally, and without trying to make a point through sheer size. That was the only thing it had in common with the hallway on the other side of the wall.
The entry hall of Riordan’s knowe was decorated in what I could only describe as early Victorian bordello as reinterpreted by the creative team behind the Lord of the Rings movies. The globes of glowing light from the cavern were here, too, dancing a slow weaving pattern between chandeliers laden with candles that burned a steady green. At least they didn’t flicker. Hanging tapestries covered the walls, all depicting Riordan. Riordan sitting in a throne during formal Court, looking majestic and wise. Riordan on a white horse, leading a charge in some unidentified battle. Riordan in a meadow, gazing thoughtfully off into the distance.
“Whoa,” I said. “Medieval political propaganda.”
Quentin didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. The way he was wrinkling his nose said everything for him.
Li Qin chuckled. “It takes most people like that the first time. When Jan started sending me here to negotiate for peace along our borders, I thought she was mad at me. This way.” She started down the hall. The thick, ornately patterned carpet muffled her footsteps entirely.
That carpet…the pattern was vertigo-inducing enough to make my stomach turn if I tried to look at it while I walked, leaving me with a choice between the horrible tapestries—bad—and the dancing globes of light—just as bad. I settled for staring straight ahead, trying not to look at anything but the back of Li Qin’s head.
Maybe talking would help. I cleared my throat and asked, “So she just lets you run around the knowe? Even though you’re from Tamed Lightning?”
“When January was alive, refusing me a host’s courtesies would have been an aggressive act. Riordan is never aggressive unless she’s confident of having the upper hand. We were always small, but an unprovoked move against us would have brought Shadowed Hills into the fight, on our side. She wasn’t going to risk it.” Li Qin kept walking. “Now that I’m a widow, etiquette states she can’t refuse me any privilege I had while I was still the wife of a Countess. It’s a useful, if slightly stupid, arrangement of manners.”
“Seven years from the death of a spouse or child, if you’re the parent or consort of a noble,” said Quentin. I glanced his way. He shrugged. “There’s a book we have to memorize.”
“Yet one more reason for me to be glad I was never a child of the nobility.” Daughter of a Firstborn, yes; noble, no. My mother doesn’t have a title. I guess no one ever thought she needed one.
“Here we are.” Li Qin stopped at a door that would have been almost tasteful, if it hadn’t been for the gilded crown molding that surrounded it, like a giant picture frame. It swung open at her touch, revealing a room that appeared to have been decorated entirely in white velvet. Six shades of white velvet. It was like a whipped cream explosion.
“Wow, this just gets classier all the time.” I started toward the door, and froze. The air currents in the hall had shifted when Li Qin opened the new room; not much, but enough that the natural airflow was bringing me different scents.
I smelled sycamore smoke and calla lilies.
“Chelsea,” I whispered.
“Toby?” Quentin looked at me, eyes wide. “What’s up?”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I dug a hand into my pocket, pulling out the Luidaeg’s Chelsea-chaser. It was blazing a bright fire-engine red. Quentin gasped, pulling out his own charm. It was the same color.
“She’s here.” I looked up, toward Li Qin. “Can you cover for me?”
“Until the time of your audience, yes. After that…” She shrugged helplessly. “I’ll do what I can, but I don’t recommend attracting the attention of her guards.”
“Yeah, I’ll do my best.” I reached into my other pocket, dug out the car keys, and tossed them to Quentin. “You know what to do.”
His mouth dropped open as my meaning hit home. “You can’t seriously mean to—”
“Go running off alone so that if one of us winds up getting snagged by Riordan’s invisible goons, the other one can keep looking for Chelsea and Raj? Yeah
, I can.” I forced a smile. It didn’t feel sincere. I didn’t care. “Besides, what’s the worst that can happen? You keep Li safe. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
With that, I turned and walked away, letting the Luidaeg’s charm lead me deeper into Riordan’s knowe, where hopefully, Chelsea—and through her, Raj—would be waiting.
FOURTEEN
THE DEEPER I WENT into Riordan’s knowe, the more obvious it became that she took her decorating tips from a Vegas casino, with dashes of the Moulin Rouge thrown in to spice things up. There was no neon, probably because she couldn’t get it to stabilize in the Summerlands. Globes of witchlight and those damn green candles more than made up the difference.
There was one nice thing about the place: it was so garish that there was no chance I’d start going in a circle. I would have needed to be blind to wind up in the same room twice without knowing it. The Luidaeg’s charm pulled me onward, glow intensifying until it hurt to look directly at it. I caught hints and wisps of Chelsea’s magic, like the ghosts of sycamore trees and lilies. It was almost faint enough to be my imagination, but the charm was glowing, and I trusted the Luidaeg’s magic.
The carpets in the knowe muffled my footsteps, which meant they were doing the same for anyone else who happened to be wandering the halls. If I hadn’t been paying such close attention, I might have missed the sound of someone talking up ahead. I froze. I didn’t know who it was, but I knew that they weren’t with me; neither Li Qin nor Quentin would have been speaking that openly while they walked around Riordan’s knowe, and they probably wouldn’t have been wandering around unescorted.
I pressed myself against the wall, planning to hide behind the nearest tapestry. The fabric buckled under my weight, sending me plummeting. I managed to clap my free hand over my mouth before I landed on my ass. All that escaped from between my fingers was a faint squeak, barely audible even to me. The red light from the Luidaeg’s charm cast a bloody glow on the room I’d fallen into. It was a small antechamber, barely bigger than a closet. It was the most plainly decorated room I’d seen since we arrived in Dreamer’s Glass, all bare walls and uncarpeted hardwood floor. That was a relief.
I climbed to my feet, moving slowly to keep from being heard by whoever was coming down the hall. The voice that was coming closer outside the tapestry, on the other hand…I wrapped my fingers tightly around the Luidaeg’s charm, dimming the glow as much as I could. Enough still seeped out to make the walls look bloody. I closed my eyes.
“—you, she’s in my damn receiving room. I don’t know what you’re intending to do about this, but our deal did not include me having unexpected guests.” Riordan sounded annoyed. She would probably have been more annoyed if she’d known I was there. Since I didn’t hear any other voices, I assumed she was on the phone. “I want you to fix this. I don’t care what it takes, you fix it. I have things to do.”
There was a pause while the person on the other end of her call answered. Riordan’s snort was so loud that she had to be passing directly in front of the tapestry concealing me.
“Oh, is that so? Look, Mister, you’re going to have a much bigger world of trouble than I am if you don’t take care of this, and take care of it now. I have more to worry about—”
Her words faded into unintelligibility as she moved on down the hall. I stayed frozen until even the faint echoes of her voice were gone. Then I let out a breath, straightened, and unwrapped my fingers from around the Luidaeg’s charm. That had been close. Too close: if I didn’t find Chelsea soon, I was going to need to head back to the others.
I tugged the tapestry aside and peered out into the hall. There was no one there. Even so, it never hurts to be careful. I closed my eyes and breathed in, filtering through the scents in the air, looking for traces of the Folletti. There were none. For the moment, at least, I was alone.
The tapestry slid back into place with a heavy swishing sound as I crept out of my hiding place and resumed letting the charm tug me along, thinking as I walked. Riordan wasn’t happy about one of her visitors. Li Qin was a familiar face, and Riordan would hardly be demanding someone “fix it” when Li Qin was within her rights to be here. No, she had to be complaining about me. Which brought up a more interesting question: who was she complaining to?
The Luidaeg’s charm was dimming. It was still glowing red; it was just…duller, as if its batteries were going out. Or as though Chelsea was moving again. I swore softly and picked up my pace, trying to let the charm lead me to where I needed to be before I lost the trace.
I didn’t hear the wind whistling through the chandeliers until the sound was almost on top of me. I whirled, staring up into the darkness against the ceiling. That’s the trouble with Folletti. By the time you know where they’re coming from, there’s no way that you can run. And me without a big bag of coal dust to throw on them and keep them visible.
“Shit,” I muttered, and started backing up. Maybe I’d get lucky and find another hidden chamber behind a hideous tapestry. Sure, the Folletti would probably see me duck inside, but it would give me a chance to get the charm out of sight, and I could always say I got lost looking for the bathroom. Most purebloods assume all changelings are stupid. There was even a chance they’d believe me.
My shoulders hit the fabric—and hands reached out from behind the tapestry, yanking me backward into the shadows on the other side. I squeaked before I could stop myself—
—and then everything was dark and cold, and I was falling, falling, falling—
—and we fell through a portal in the side of a wall, landing in a heap on the floor of what appeared to be an attic. My lungs were aching. I stayed where I was, trying to catch my breath.
Underneath me, Tybalt commented mildly, “While this is amusing and such, don’t you think we’d be more productive if you elected to move? I ask merely out of curiosity, and not because you’re cutting off circulation to my left arm.”
“Oh, crap. Sorry.” I scrambled to my feet, narrowly avoiding elbowing Tybalt in any sensitive spots. “Are you okay?”
“I am quite fine.” Tybalt flowed to his feet with effortless grace before stooping to retrieve the Luidaeg’s charm from where it had fallen to the floor. He held it out to me. “The same question might well be asked of you, you know. Whatever possessed you to think roving the halls of Dreamer’s Glass unescorted would be the wisest thing to do?”
The charm was dark in Tybalt’s hand. When my fingers touched it, it flickered back into foxfire light. Not red, though, not anymore. That would have been too much to hope for. “I was trying to find Chelsea.”
“You nearly found the wrong end of a Folletti’s blade.”
“Didn’t. That means I win.” I tucked the charm into my jacket pocket. “That was a good save. How did you know I needed it?”
“Jasmine was kind enough to let me know my services might be required. When I arrived in Tamed Lightning, April alerted me to your destination.” A small, self-satisfied smile spread across Tybalt’s face. “There are no Cait Sidhe in Riordan’s domain.”
I blinked. “So?”
“So, when she employed my late, lamented cousin Barbara as one of her spies, she was forced to open her wards to access from the Shadow Roads. Otherwise, there was no way the espionage could have continued for as long as it did.”
Barbara was one of the people who died at ALH, right around the time Jan did. At the moment, that didn’t matter as much as the fact that Barbara had been Cait Sidhe. I stared at Tybalt, comprehension dawning. “Riordan didn’t think to close her wards back up.”
“I daresay she assumed there would never be cause.” His smile became a smirk. “I do enjoy proving people wrong.”
“You know, Tybalt, I could kiss you right now,” I said. His eyes widened in surprise, and I barely managed not to wince. I shouldn’t have said that. Kisses were nothing to joke about, especially where Tybalt was concerned. I turned quickly away, using the need to survey my surroundings as an excuse not to meet his eyes.<
br />
Wherever we were, it was clearly Riordan’s knowe. Like all attics, this one was filled with things too worn to be on display and too expensive or treasured to get rid of. Unlike most attics, this one could have been used as a shrine to kitsch. Some of the things Riordan had decided were too tacky to keep on display were truly appalling, if only because someone, somewhere, had gone to the trouble of actually making them. Who needs a brass fountain shaped like a pissing Satyr, anyway?
Tybalt cleared his throat. “Interesting décor.”
“You should see the rest of this place.” I turned back to him. “Is there any chance you could get me back to Quentin and Li before Riordan reaches them?” I paused. “How did you find me, anyway?”
“For all that I must keep reminding you that I am not a bloodhound, it’s true that on occasion, having a sensitive nose is a useful thing. I followed the smell of you.” Tybalt sighed, looking exaggeratedly put-upon. “If you must be ferried back to your people, I suppose I can oblige. But only because you asked so very nicely, and promised me a kiss.”
I raised an eyebrow.
Tybalt sighed again. This time, his put-upon expression seemed less exaggerated. “Take a deep breath.”
“At least this time you’re giving me fair warning,” I said, and breathed in.
“Surprising you was better than the alternatives,” he said. He put one hand to either side of my waist and stepped backward, pulling me into the shadows.
The more time I spend with Tybalt, the more I think that investing in some good silk long underwear would be a good idea. Sure, I’d roast most of the time, but I wouldn’t be nearly as concerned about getting frostbite on the Shadow Roads.
We stepped off the Shadow Roads in the white velvet antechamber, where Quentin was pacing while an anxious-looking Li Qin sat on an overstuffed loveseat, spindling her skirt in her hands. She froze when she saw us, skirt dropping from suddenly motionless fingers. Quentin followed her gaze, turning, and relaxed markedly.
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