Chimes at Midnight od-7

by Seanan McGuire

  Tybalt didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.

  “I want to make a change,” said Quentin.

  I raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

  “Instead of staying here—and I mean, I get why you want me to stay here; somebody has to stay with Jazz, and you probably want me to be as far away from actually breaking the law as possible right now—why don’t Jazz and I go to the Library of Stars and hole up there? I can call Raj. He can take us, and we won’t ever have to go outside.” Quentin shrugged. “It won’t stop the Queen if she decides she wants to burn the house down, but we couldn’t stop her if we were here. I’m not Elliot. I can’t create big waves just because I want them.”

  “And the Library is neutral ground,” I said thoughtfully. “Even if the Queen wants to cause problems for you there, she can’t. All Mags has to do is refuse to let her into the stacks. Okay. We’ll go with that. And, uh, bring donuts or something to apologize to Mags for my exploiting my Library pass.”

  “Will do,” said Quentin.

  May looked relieved. “I guess I can take a few headshots for the cause if Jazz will be safely out of the line of fire.”

  Arden looked confused. I glanced at her, explaining, “May is literally indestructible. As near as we can tell, she can’t die now that she’s no longer connected to me.”

  “Oh,” said Arden.

  It was time for the part that wasn’t going to go over so well. I turned to Tybalt, and took a deep breath. “Tybalt . . .”

  “Ah.” His eyes narrowed. “This is where you once again ask me to leave you for someone else to defend, and trust that I will do it simply because you claim that it is necessary. Really, October. I thought this time, perhaps, your endless assurances that you weren’t going to send me away might last a little longer.”

  “I’m not sending you away. I want us to end up in the same place, because I need you to go break Nolan out with me. I just need you to do something else, first.” I tucked my hair back behind one ear, trying to ignore the snarling from my stomach. “I need you to go and ask the cats for help.”

  He blinked. “You what? October, the Court of Cats cannot fight—”

  “No, they can’t. This is a matter of succession for the Divided Courts, and it would be completely inappropriate for the Court of Cats to get involved. But if they happened to be hanging out in Muir Woods before hostilities were formally declared, and accidentally served as an early warning system . . .”

  Tybalt blinked, and then smiled, although his pupils remained hairline-thin. “You have gotten trickier. It suits you. I am not happy about this request, but I can see the wisdom in it, much as I might wish not to. I will ask them.”

  “And since you’re the King of Cats, that means they’ll do it, right?”

  He snorted. “So long in my company, and yet you still know so little of the feline mind. Some will cooperate. Others will find better things to do with their time.”

  “Fair enough.” Even partial cooperation would give us the manpower we needed to make this work out. Of course, there was one other stumbling block to be overcome . . . “Someone needs to explain what’s going on to Sylvester.”

  Now Tybalt’s eyes widened. “You cannot be serious.”

  “I am.” I could have called. Sylvester would have listened. But I didn’t want them fighting any longer than was absolutely necessary—and more, sending Tybalt would impress on Sylvester just how important this really was.

  “He kept me from you.”

  “And now he can pay back a little of the debt he incurred to me in doing that. He can come and fight beside us. Please.”

  Tybalt simply stared at me for a long moment. Then he stepped closer. “You were less trouble before I told you that I loved you.” This said, he bowed his head, and kissed me, long and slow and sweet. Despite the fact that we were surrounded by people, I kissed him back.

  When he pulled away, he sighed. “Where shall I meet you?”

  “Come to Muir Woods,” I said. “I’m going to go there with Arden and the others to get the knowe open. Once that’s done, it’ll be time for you and me to hit the Queen’s dungeons.”

  “Ah,” he said. “The simple pleasures.” He turned to Arden, offering another shallow bow. “Highness,” he said. “May you have the best of luck in claiming the throne you once refused. I know it is a difficult choice to make. I hope you will have as many joys in your place as I have had in mine.” He pivoted on his heel, walking out of the dining room.

  I turned back to the others, pulling my jacket a little tighter as I said, “All right, then: we know what we’re doing, we know where we’re going, and we know this isn’t going to be much fun. I’m going to call Goldengreen before we leave here. May, go wake Jazz. Quentin, go call Raj. Arden, eat a sandwich. You’re going to need it. Danny . . .”

  “I know how to get to Muir Woods,” he rumbled, folding his arms. “I’m drivin’.”

  I smiled a little. “Yeah, you’re driving.” May and Quentin had already vanished into other parts of the house, leaving me and Danny alone with Arden. I turned to her. “You okay?”

  “I can’t decide whether you’re a genius, an idiot, or one of those people who’s only happy when she’s making everything up as she goes along,” said Arden. She paused before adding, “And I’m starting to believe we can pull this off. It’s . . . a little bit weird.”

  “Welcome to life with Tobes,” said Danny, clapping her on the back.

  Arden stumbled forward a few feet before getting her balance. “She hasn’t killed the rest of you yet, so I guess that’s something,” she said. She looked at me. “Can we swing by the bookstore and pick up Madden? If we’re going to need all hands on deck for this, I want him with me. He’s one of the best men I know, and I’m not leaving him out.”

  “Absolutely,” I said. “When it comes to committing treason, the more the merrier.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go call Goldengreen, and then we can leave.”

  “We’ll be here,” said Danny.

  I made it into the kitchen—and even managed to close the kitchen door—before my stomach clenched so tight that I could no longer stay upright. I grabbed the edge of the counter and hung there, suspended by my white-knuckled fingers, while I waited for the pain to fade.

  It seemed to take forever. It could have taken seconds. It was hard to tell. The pain was bad enough to twist my perception of time. I eventually hauled myself back to my feet, shaking, and wiped the sweat from my forehead. I could hear Arden and Danny talking quietly in the dining room. I couldn’t have been incapacitated for too long; they’d have noticed my absence, and come looking for me.

  I popped three more of Walther’s blood gems into my mouth as I dialed the number for Goldengreen, slumping against the counter in the process. The bag was almost empty. This had to end soon. One way or another, it had to end soon.

  I just hoped and prayed that it was going to end with everyone still standing.

  But I no longer quite believed that was possible.

  TWENTY-TWO

  DRIVING AWAY FROM THE HOUSE and leaving Quentin and Jazz behind was one of the hardest things I’d done all week. I sat in the backseat with May, twisting around in my seat so that she could apply Neosporin and strips of gauze to my scraped-up palms. Her fingers were trembling, and she kept stealing glances through the rear window, watching as our house receded into the dark. I felt a pang of guilt. As hard as it was for me to leave my squire behind, leaving her girlfriend had to be even harder for her.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” I said.

  “Hmm?” May’s attention focused on me. For a moment, it was like she wasn’t even seeing me; she was still looking back, watching one more life fade into the distance. Then she shook her head, mustering a smile, and said, “I’m glad you asked me to be. I’ve been feeling sort of left out lately.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I mean, I’m your death o
men. I don’t exactly have the right to demand to be a part of your life.” We pulled up in front of Borderlands, visible now that Arden was with us. She hopped out, trotting toward the darkened storefront. May tracked Arden’s movements, her smile fading. “She really does look just like her father. It’s weird. I never thought I’d see those eyes again.”

  If we survived this, May could tell Arden what she remembered about King Gilad; Arden was going to find out where Fetches came from eventually, if she didn’t already know. It occurred to me that I didn’t have any idea what she did or didn’t know about Faerie. She’d been young when she went into her self-imposed exile, and her education seemed to have been centered on keeping herself and her younger brother safe. How much time would that have left for learning how everything else in our world worked? We might be putting a completely unprepared woman in charge of one of the largest regional Kingdoms in the Westlands . . . and to be entirely honest, I didn’t care. Ignorant or not, Arden was smart; she could learn. And anything would be an improvement over the Queen we were living under.

  “Did you know him?” I asked.

  “Yeah.” May sunk down in her seat. “I wasn’t him, or anything—that would be too weird—but I was one of his servants, or I remember being one of his servants, a little. She’s patchy. Too many other memories overwrote hers. But I remember seeing Arden in the halls. She was always so serious. She and her brother haunted the knowe like little ghosts. They were so sad, and Gilad would never talk to them when he knew anyone else was around.”

  “But that didn’t always include the servants,” I guessed.

  May shook her head. “No. He was a good man, but he was still a King, and Kings sometimes forget that servants are people. We knew who she was, and we all kept his secret, because we understood why it was important.”

  The cab door opened, and Arden slid into the backseat, forcing May to move into the middle. “The secret is out now,” she said. We looked at her guiltily before May turned to resume bandaging my hands, trying to act like she’d been doing that all along.

  “Arden—” I began.

  “I heard enough,” she said, cutting me off. “I’m not going to ask what it all meant, because this isn’t the time. But once we’re finished taking back my Kingdom, you’re going to explain everything to me. Do you understand? Everything.”

  “I hope you have a lot of time to kill,” said May.

  I offered Arden a sheepish smile. “Sorry. Things get chaotic around me sometimes.”

  “You don’t say.”

  The front passenger door opened. Madden flung himself into the seat, beaming. “Hi!”

  “Hi, Madden,” May and I chorused dutifully.

  He turned a hopeful expression on Danny. “Can I . . . ?” he asked.

  Danny chuckled. “Sure thing,” he said, and started the cab. “Just don’t jump out the window while we’re moving, okay?”

  “Okay!” said Madden, and shimmered, replaced by a large white dog with red-furred ears. His eyes were surrounded by matching circles, giving him an almost panda-like quality. Danny hit a button. Madden’s window rolled down, and he stuck his head outside.

  “Dogs are weird,” I said.

  “Says the woman who voluntarily travels with a cat,” said Arden, turning back to me. “Will all those people you named before really come to help us?”

  “I know the Undersea will; they’re going to want Dianda back, and this is a way to accomplish that without actually going to war this week. Not that they’d be opposed to a good war, but that’s something I’d rather avoid. Shadowed Hills . . .” I paused, trying to find the words for my complicated relationship with Sylvester Torquill. I settled for saying, “My liege holds Shadowed Hills, and he’s never failed to come to my aid when I truly needed him. I absolutely believe he’ll be there for me now. And he likes the current Queen about as much as I do.”

  “An’ Toby hates her,” said Danny.

  May sighed. “Danny. Don’t explain the joke.”

  “Sorry.” He turned off Valencia, heading for the freeway. “Muir Woods is about an hour away.”

  “That gives Tybalt time to notify the cats and get to Shadowed Hills so Sylvester can start mobilizing the troops,” I said. Muir Woods was close to the ocean, with a beach technically inside the boundaries of the park. I was assuming the Undersea would come largely via the water, which meant they never had to set foot, fin, or tentacle on land that belonged to the Queen. Sylvester could get his people there, and Marcia and the others from Goldengreen who couldn’t swim but didn’t want to stay there could take their cars. We were going to be on time.

  Too many of my allies were scattered, unprotected, around the Bay Area: I knew that, even as I knew that there was no way to call them all to safety, and no safety to call them to if we tried. Walther would be better off on campus, far away from fights of succession. Mitch, Stacy, and the kids would be safer at home. April O’Leary couldn’t move without the necessary hardware, and Li Qin Zhou was just as likely to kill me with her luck as she was to save me. The Luidaeg might have been able to help us . . . but then again, she might not. Rayseline Torquill had proven that the last time the Luidaeg tried to get involved in person. She couldn’t raise a hand against any descendant of Titania, and that included at least half the Queen’s guards.

  So no. This wasn’t everyone I could have called, but in this instance at least, it was everyone I should have called. My stomach rumbled. I stuck one of my freshly-bandaged hands into my pocket and pulled out the baggie of blood gems from Walther, trying not to think about how few were left.

  May followed my gaze to the baggie, and said, “I have a suggestion, but you’re not going to like it.”

  “Those words are right so much of the time that it makes my teeth itch just hearing them.” I looked away from the too-tempting chunks of frozen plasma and met the pale gray eyes of my Fetch. It occurred to me that my eyes were darker than hers for the first time. What a funny world we lived in. “What is it?”

  “Goblin fruit isn’t hard to find right now. Maybe if you had a little . . .”

  “May!” I stared at her. “I can’t believe you’d even suggest that.”

  “Toby, addiction isn’t a personal failing. It’s a thing that happens, sometimes because you made a mistake, sometimes because of, you know. Evil pie.” She made a pie-tossing gesture. I scowled. She sighed. “You know I’m right. I mean, this is the longest you’ve gone without coffee since you discovered its existence. If it weren’t for the goblin fruit, I’d expect you to be climbing the walls over caffeine withdrawal. And if you can’t even kick coffee cold turkey, why should you think that’s the right way of dealing with something a hundred times more addictive?”

  “Maybe because goblin fruit messes me up so badly that I’m useless? I need to be able to take care of the situation, not just lie around watching pink elephants dance around the room.”

  May shrugged. “That’s why you should just have a little bit. Just enough to calm your body down for a while, but not enough to make you start hallucinating. We don’t have to do this for long, right? We’re fixing things.”

  What she was saying made sense, and I hated it. I hated it right down to the bones of me. Most of all, I hated how much I wanted to give in.

  “I—”

  “She’s right,” said Arden. I looked past May to find her watching me, a serious expression on her face. “If you’re starting to get shaky from goblin fruit withdrawal, you need to have some. Otherwise, you’re going to wind up useless to me, and I’m sorry, but I can’t allow that.” My shock must have shown, because she smiled. “You said you wanted me to be your new Queen. Well, that means you have to listen to me. As your Crown Princess and presumptive regent, I am ordering you to have some goblin fruit.”

  “Look, even if we had some here—which we don’t—you don’t know what it’s like,” I said. “You can’t know. You’re not a changeling.”

  “I can’t know what it’s like for you,
but I do know what it’s like. Being a Princess doesn’t make you immune to temptation, especially when you’re a Princess in exile in your own country, and you’re too scared to run because running would change everything, would start something you’re not sure you’re ready to finish . . .” Arden shook her head. “Father hated the stuff—he said it was cheap and unfair—but I was lonely and scared, and I knew better than to play around with mortal drugs. So I got some goblin fruit. And you know what? It helped. I don’t really remember most of the ’60s . . .”

  “Neither does anyone else,” said Danny.

  “Not helping,” said May.

  Arden continued. “But it really did help, and Toby, I know withdrawal when I see it. You’re one sharp noise away from flipping out and climbing the nearest tall building with a sniper rifle, and that’s not going to get my brother back. You need some goblin fruit.”

  “It doesn’t matter what you think I need,” I said flatly. “We’re not stopping to find a street corner drug dealer, and I don’t think Danny’s been running goblin fruit out of the glove compartment. So I’m going to just keep on the way I have been, if it’s all the same to you.”

  “No, you’re not,” said May, in a very small voice.

  I turned to frown at her. “May?”

  She didn’t say anything. She just reached into her purse and pulled out a plastic baggie with a sandwich inside. It was white bread, cut into quarters; the crusts had been trimmed off. My eyes widened.

  “May, no, don’t—”

  She opened the seal, and the smell of goblin fruit flooded the car. Without my having consciously decided to move, I was taking the baggie away from her and cramming the sections of sandwich into my mouth. There was barely a teaspoon of jam in the whole thing, making it just a thin layer of sweetness between the slices of bread, cheese, and ham, but I somehow managed to stop myself from ripping the sandwich apart to get at what I wanted faster. The small part of my brain that was still capable of making rational decisions knew that this was the only way I’d get the calories I needed to rebuild what my body was burning.