Late Eclipses od-4

by Seanan McGuire

  The static stopped abruptly. The spell I’d been trying to cast shattered around me as the Luidaeg snarled, “Who is it?”

  She sounded pissed. Nothing new there; the Luidaeg usually sounds pissed. Before she could hang up, I said quickly, “Luidaeg, it’s me.”

  “Toby?” There was a faint edge of hysteria in her voice. That worried me. Anything that could actually upset the Luidaeg was something I wanted to avoid. “What the hell do you want?”

  “I need your help.”

  “Do you, now? Well, how about you deal with your own shit for once?”

  Arguing with the Luidaeg is stupid bordering on suicidal, but I didn’t have time to try diplomacy. “I need you. Lily’s sick.”

  She paused. “Sick, how? Is that the only reason you’re calling, or is the world ending, too?”

  “Nobody’s told me if it is,” I said. “She can’t focus, she’s forgetting things, and she doesn’t look right. It’s like she can’t remember what shape she’s supposed to be.”

  “If she’s sick, she can’t remember. Undine are only material because they concentrate.” Something in the background shattered. “Have you checked her waters?”

  I looked toward Walther and said, “They’ve been checked magically and mundanely. They’re clean.”

  “What about her pearl?”

  I hesitated. “Her what?”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” The Luidaeg sounded more tired than annoyed. “Undine have pearls that serve them as physical anchors. If they’re damaged, the Undine is damaged. Do you know where Lily’s pearl is hidden? Have you checked it?”

  “No, I—”

  “Ask her, and get those waters tested again. That’s all I can give you.” She sighed. “There are things you can’t fix, Toby. Maybe it’s time you learned that.”

  “Luidaeg, please. This is serious.”

  “It’s always serious to heroes, but they can’t save everyone. Just ask my father.” She laughed bitterly. “There’s nothing else I can do for you, or for her. I’m in the middle of something.” There was another crash, and the sound of splintering wood.

  I hesitated. “Is everything okay?”

  That seemed to be the wrong thing to say. “There’s nothing here that needs a hero,” she snapped. “I wish I were the answer to all your problems, but I’m not. Now leave me alone. I have work to do.” She slammed the receiver down. I heard plastic crack before the connection went dead.

  I lowered Walther’s phone, vaguely aware that my fingers were clenched tight enough that my knuckles had gone white. “She hung up on me.”

  “The sea witch hung up on you?” asked Marcia, sounding awed.

  “Wait—are you saying that was—?” Walther gaped at me.

  I tossed him back his phone, starting to massage my aching fingers. “Yes, it was, and yes, she did. I guess she’s not having a good night. Do either of you know where Lily keeps her pearl?”

  “Her what?” asked Marcia.

  Walther kept gaping. “Why does the sea witch want to know where Lily keeps her pearl?”

  “Can we just accept that I know the Luidaeg and move on?” I asked. “She says Lily’s pearl being damaged might explain why she’s so sick. She also says we need to test the water again.”

  “I’ll get right on that,” said Walther slowly, “but I don’t know where Lily keeps her pearl.”

  “Neither do I,” said Marcia.

  “Right.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, reviewing our options. Finally, straightening, I said, “Screw it. Let’s ask Lily.”

  Marcia’s eyes widened. “Do you think she’ll answer?”

  “I think we’re playing with her life if we don’t try.” I started for the moon bridge. “Come on.”

  They came.

  The temperature in Lily’s knowe had dropped several degrees while we were outside, and the pathways were even harder to find. Her illness was definitely affecting the place, and that couldn’t be good. The three of us wandered lost for almost a quarter of an hour, seeing no one, before we found our way back to the willows. The handmaids were still there, waiting for Lily to need them. I asked if they knew where she kept her pearl. They shook their heads. So much for the easy way.

  Marcia stopped a few feet from the entrance to the willow grove. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I just can’t.”

  “It’s okay.” I glanced to Walther. “Stay with her?” He nodded. “Good. You two wait here. I’ll be out as soon as I can, and we’ll figure out what comes next.”

  I walked into the hot shadows under the trees alone. “Lily?” There was no reply. I kept walking. “Lily?”

  She came into view ahead of me, her skin impossibly pale against the black water around her. I dropped to my knees next to the pool, leaning in to put a hand on her arm.

  “Lily?” I whispered. She didn’t react. She would have looked peaceful if she hadn’t been so bloodlessly white, and so cold. I risked giving her a small shake. “Please, I need you to wake up and tell me where you hid your pearl. We need it to save you.”

  “She won’t wake up,” said a voice behind me.

  “I had to try.” I twisted to look over my shoulder, not moving otherwise. “How did things go at the Queen’s Court?”

  “I was politely asked to leave.” A flicker of amusement crossed Tybalt’s face. “Your Lady Fetch has a true talent for being insulting. I don’t think I’ve ever been called some of those names before, and I’ve been called a great many names. I believe your large friend was taking her home. I came to see if you needed any aid.” He walked over to offer his hand. I took it, letting him tug me to my feet.

  “Not unless you know where Lily keeps her pearl.” Keeping my voice as level as I could, I repeated what the Luidaeg had said. He didn’t let go of my hand. “Oak and ash, Tybalt, I don’t know what to do.”

  “You’ll do whatever needs to be done. You always do.”

  “And if it doesn’t work?” I wanted to get angry. I wanted something to hit. But anger wasn’t going to help, and no targets were presenting themselves. “What then?”

  “Then I suppose we’ll have a problem.”

  I glared at him before letting out a heavy breath and tugging my fingers free. “I should head home. Will you—”

  “I’ll watch them until Lily can tell me my services aren’t required.” He offered a small smile before he turned away, walking out of the willows without another word. There was nothing else I could do in the grove, and so I followed.

  Marcia and Walther were standing on a patch of green a few yards from the trees. She was leaning against him and shivering, although it looked more like exhaustion than cold. Walther looked up when he heard us coming, and blinked at the sight of Tybalt, but didn’t say anything. The Court of Cats has been loosely affiliated with the fiefdoms of Golden Gate Park for a long, long time. Everyone who lives in the Park gets accustomed to the Cait Sidhe coming and going as they please.

  “Lily isn’t waking up,” I said, without preamble. “I need you to ask around the knowe and see if anyone knows where her pearl is hidden. If she wakes up, ask her directly. All right?”

  “Y-yes,” said Marcia. Walther just nodded.

  “Good. Call me if you need anything, or if you find anything. I’ll check in tomorrow.” I hesitated before adding, “If Lily gets worse … ”

  “We’ll call,” said Walther.

  “Good,” I said. That seemed insufficient, so I repeated, lamely, “Good.”

  Marcia took a deep breath, and said, “The rules won’t let us thank you, but we’re grateful you came. We know you don’t like us. So it was good of you to come.”

  “What?” I frowned at her. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

  “We wouldn’t have blamed you if you never wanted to have anything to do with the Tea Gardens, or us, ever again. Simon hurt you here, and we didn’t stop him.”

  “Marcia … ” I groaned. “Oh, root and branch.”

  Sixteen years ago, Simon Torquill tu
rned me into a fish and abandoned me in the Tea Gardens. I’m pretty sure he expected me to choke to death on the air. Subtlety isn’t a lost art in Faerie, and neither is screwing up. I couldn’t turn myself back, but when a tourist scooped me into the water, I could sure as hell swim for freedom. Furious, Simon wrapped the Tea Gardens in a shroud of forgetfulness, hiding them from the rest of Faerie. I don’t know how: he shouldn’t have had that kind of power. He did it anyway, and for fourteen years the people I loved thought I was dead, while the people who loved Lily forgot she’d ever existed.

  As for Lily’s subjects … they couldn’t see her, couldn’t touch her, couldn’t even remember why they were there. They scattered, and not all of them made it back when the spell hiding the Tea Gardens from fae eyes was finally broken. As for exactly where they’d been and what they’d been doing … they’d never tried to tell me, and I never asked. I knew too well how hard Faerie can be on the weak when there’s no one to protect them. When the walls came down, they came home, and I’d let that be enough.

  Some of the purebloods in the Tea Gardens had lived there longer than I’d been alive, and they’d just gotten their home back. Could they survive losing it again? “Lily matters to me,” I said finally. “I won’t abandon her because of what Simon did. I won’t abandon any of you.”

  Marcia pulled away from Walther and flung her arms around me before I had a chance to react. She was sobbing in earnest now. I winced, beginning to stroke her hair with one hand. “Shhh, Marcia. It’s gonna be okay.”

  “Promise?” she whispered.

  I didn’t argue this time. “I promise. If there’s a way to make this better, I will. It’s my job. But I have to go now.”

  “Okay, Toby,” she said, and let go of me, stepping back. “Okay.”

  Several more of Lily’s subjects had wandered over while we spoke. They almost surrounded us, standing at a respectful distance and watching with hungry eyes. They were hoping I’d fix things. There was just one problem: I didn’t think I could.

  “Come on,” said Tybalt, putting a hand on my shoulder and steering me toward the moon bridge. Walther followed, tugging Marcia gently along by one hand.

  The garden exits were locked for the night. That might not have been an issue if Lily were awake, but with her incapacitated, we had to deal with certain limitations. Tybalt looked measuringly at the shadows, finally shaking his head. “Not after running here from the Queen’s knowe,” he said. “I’m already stretched too thin to carry anyone else along.”

  “That’s okay.” It was almost reassuring to hear that he had limits. “Walther, is there another way out of here?”

  “Yes,” he said, and led us to a door in the bushes. It was being held open by another of Lily’s courtiers. I didn’t recognize him, and he didn’t meet my eyes as we approached. I gave Marcia a quick hug, murmuring a last, “Call me,” before stepping through the opening. Tybalt followed. The door closed behind us, disappearing. They don’t call us “the hidden folk” for nothing—we’re not seen when we don’t want to be.

  Tybalt walked me to the parking lot. When we reached the end of the grass, he said, abruptly, “I’m not sure how to say this so you’ll listen.”

  “How about you just say it, and we’ll see what happens?” I turned toward him. His eyes were very green in the streetlight glow. “Is this about what happened at the Queen’s Court? I’m sorry I slapped you. It seemed like the best way to cause a diversion.”

  “That’s nothing,” he said, waving it off. “The Queen didn’t give you Goldengreen out of the kindness of her heart, Toby. You should know that.”

  “I do.” I flashed a tight, sardonic smile. “My mama didn’t raise no fools.”

  “Your mother didn’t raise you at all.” His expression was grave, eyes searching my face. I just didn’t know what he was looking for. “I don’t know what she’s trying, but it’s a trap of some sort. I’ve been a King too long not to know that much.”

  I nodded, feeling a new layer of stress adding itself to the mountain I was already carrying. “There was no way to say I wouldn’t take it. Not unless I wanted to get myself exiled for insolence.”

  “Even so.” He reached out and brushed his fingers along the side of my jaw. “October … ”

  “Why did you kiss me?” The question was asked almost before I realized it was forming. I felt myself go red.

  Tybalt jerked back like I’d slapped him again, hand dropping. “My reasons were the same as yours. I needed to cast the eyes of the gossips on something concrete, rather than risk them gossiping about our acquaintance.”

  “You could have stayed away. There wouldn’t have been any gossip then.”

  “No, I couldn’t. The Lady of the Mists was planning something.”

  “Tybalt—”

  “It was a means to an end; that’s all. I’m sorry if I offended. I’ll set my people to watch the Tea Gardens; call if you need me.” He stepped backward into the shadows. “Take care, little fish. These waters are deeper than you’re accustomed to.” The shadows closed around him, and he was gone.

  I looked at the place he’d been for a long moment before I sighed and turned toward the parking lot … where my car wasn’t, thanks to my having taken the yarrow broom express from the Queen’s Court.

  “Damn,” I said. This didn’t make my car appear, but it made me feel a little bit better. I considered turning around, walking back to the Tea Gardens, and asking if anyone could give me a ride. The urge passed as fast as it came. Lily’s subjects were upset enough without their erstwhile protector stomping in and admitting that she forgot she didn’t drive there.

  Most of the world’s payphones have vanished in the last twenty years, but there are survivors, if you know where to look. I made my way through Golden Gate Park to the phone near the oh-so-touristy “picnic meadow,” swearing under my breath as I realized that the Queen’s transformation of my clothes hadn’t left me with pockets, much less pocket change. Calling a taxi was out; I’ve been developing moral objections to hexing taxi drivers since I started hanging out with Danny, and he was busy taking care of May. It was the bus or nothing.

  If the bus driver thought there was something strange about a bedraggled woman in a ball gown getting on in the wee hours of the morning, he didn’t say anything. The odds were good I wasn’t the worst thing he’d seen that night. I held up a hand, palm cupped to make it look like I was holding something, and used the last of the magic I’d called up for my makeshift human disguise to make the driver see a monthly pass. He grunted acknowledgment, and I slumped into the seat nearest the door.

  At that moment, I would have given almost anything for a way to find my mother and tell her what was happening. She was the strongest blood-worker in Faerie before she went crazy. She could probably follow Lily’s waters back to their source and give us the key to everything. Or she could have, once. Unfortunately, while I might have been able to find Amandine’s body, there’s no detective in the world good enough to find her mind. The lights are on, but nobody’s home, and the electric bill is getting high.

  The ride to my apartment took twenty minutes, mostly because several of the late-night passengers were drunk, and insisted on trying to talk to the driver before they’d take their seats. I left the bus with a hearty respect for bus drivers, and a renewed desire to never take public transit again.

  The living room lights were on as I walked toward the door, and the wards had been dissolved, not broken. That’s a crucial difference: broken wards mean something’s in your house that shouldn’t be there. Open wards mean somebody’s home. I let myself inside.

  May was asleep on the couch with Spike in her lap. The television was on but muted. I turned it off before walking down the hall to my bedroom, careful not to disturb May. It was better if she took the chance to get some rest. We’d know more soon, and in the meanwhile, I needed to close my eyes for a few minutes before I called Shadowed Hills and brought Sylvester up to speed.

  Once I
was in my room, I kicked off my shoes and sat down on the bed, still wearing my ball gown. I needed to call Sylvester. I needed to change my clothes. I needed to get moving.

  I vaguely remember hearing the cats jump onto the foot of the bed. After that, there was nothing.

  SIX

  I OPENED MY EYES TO A WORLD made entirely of flowers. Entirely of white flowers, no less, morning glories and white roses and the delicate brocade of Queen Anne’s Lace. I blinked. The flowers remained.

  “Okay, this is officially weird,” I murmured. The flowers overhead shook in the breeze, sending loose petals showering down over me. There was no perfume. Even when the wind was blowing, there was no perfume. I relaxed, suddenly understanding the reason for the bizarre change of scene. “Right. I’m dreaming.”

  “That was fast, Auntie Birdie,” said an approving voice to my left.

  I sat up, shaking petals out of my hair as I turned. “Given how often you people throw me into whackedout dream sequences these days, it’s becoming a survival skill. Why are you in my dreams, Karen? I’m assuming it’s not just boredom.” I paused. “Crap. I’m asleep. I can’t be asleep now. I have things to do.”

  My adopted niece looked at me gravely. She was kneeling in the grass, petals speckling her white-blonde hair. Her blue flannel pajamas made her look out of place, like she’d been dropped into the wrong movie. Karen is the second daughter of my best friend, Stacy Brown, and oh, yes—she’s an oneiromancer, an unexpected talent that decided to manifest when she was captured by Blind Michael. She sees the future in dreams. She can also use dreams to tell people things she thinks they need to know. Lucky me, I’m a common target.

  Good thing I like the kid, or I might get cranky about having my dreams invaded by a twelve year old on a semiregular basis.

  “You can’t be awake now, either. There’s something you need to see,” she said, and stood, walking away into the flowers. Lacking any other real options, I stood, brushed the flower petals off my jeans, and followed.