It was ringing. It shouldn’t have been, but it was, and that meant that it was working. As expected, the Luidaeg picked up after the first ring, demanding, “What?”
“The Queen has troops watching your apartment to make sure I can’t reach you. Tybalt and I are a few blocks north, at the edge of your anti-teleportation field. Can you please come get us? I need to talk to you.”
“She has people watching my apartment?”
“Yes, and I’m feeling sort of exposed out here on the street. Come get me.” I hung up.
Tybalt looked at me, one eyebrow raised. “I realize the sea witch is a friend of yours, October, but are you sure it’s wise to talk to her that way?”
“My head hurts from trying to read all those stupid books at the Library, I’ve been exiled, I’m wearing a dress, and my coffee’s frozen.” I folded my arms and scowled. “I’ll talk to her any way I want to.”
“Even so.”
I paused, and then sighed. “I’m sorry. I don’t have much patience left.” A suspiciously deep shadow had formed along the wall of the nearest alley. I eyed it before calling, “I’m supposed to have three days. Why don’t you scuttle on back to your mistress and tell her I’m not setting anything on fire, okay?”
The shadow split into four pieces, each bipedal and man-sized. I continued to eye it dubiously. The shadow continued to dwindle, until four men in human disguises were standing there.
“Shoo,” I said.
“We’ve got our eyes on you,” one of them replied. He was either their leader, or the only one too brave to have any sense. “There will be none of your trickery this time.”
Footsteps approached down the street. “I have never resorted to trickery, and I resent the implication that I would,” I said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m meeting a friend.” I turned toward the sound, and was greeted by the sight of the Luidaeg, wearing her customary overalls and work boots. She was scowling. I waved. Her scowl deepened.
I glanced over my shoulder to see how the men by the wall were responding. Answer: they weren’t. They were looking at her the way they’d look at any random human. I turned back to the Luidaeg. “I don’t think they know who you are.”
“I didn’t think you’d be back here this soon,” she said. She glared at the men. “Really? You called me out here for this?”
“Well, those four, and however many are between us and your place,” I said. “If they don’t know who you are, I’m not sure why they’re staking out your apartment, but I didn’t feel like getting arrested without doing anything wrong.”
“I’m sure you’ll do something wrong before the day’s out.” She stalked past me, heading straight for the four men standing by the wall. They blinked at her, nonplussed. I turned to watch the fun.
“What is she doing?” asked Tybalt.
“I don’t know, but I wish I had popcorn,” I said.
The Luidaeg raised her hand and snapped her fingers, and just like that, their human disguises disappeared. Two were Daoine Sidhe. The others were Candela and Ellyllon, respectively. All four were wearing the Queen’s livery. One reached for his sword. She turned to look at him. Her eyes had gone white from side to side, like fog rolling in over the water.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” she said, and her voice was an undertow, promising all the darkness and dangers of the open sea. “Let me guess. Your lady told you to watch the places October was known to frequent; told you this was one of them; didn’t tell you why. She said you should stand here, and harry her if you got the chance. If not, you were to return to Court, report your findings, and stand another watch. Am I right?”
“Who are you?”
“Uh-uh, that’s not how this goes. I asked the first question. Am I right?”
The man swallowed. I felt almost sorry for him in that moment. It didn’t last. “Yes. You’re correct.”
“Bully for me. Now here’s your answer: I am the sea witch. I am the tide you fear and the turning you can’t deny. I am the sound of the waves running over your bones on the beach, little man, and I am not amused at finding you on my doorstep.” She took a step forward. He took a step back. “I won’t punish you for obeying orders the way she would. But I can’t let an insult go unanswered. You know how it goes.” A smile twisted her lips. “I’m actually grateful. You see, there are . . . rules . . . that govern what I can and can’t do. But you broke them first. Now I get to do something I don’t get to do very often. Now I get to play.”
The man grabbed for his sword. The Luidaeg raised her hand, whispering something I couldn’t hear, and all four of them froze. They stayed that way for several minutes. I knew the Luidaeg was speaking—the wind brought me enough of her voice for that—but not what she was saying. Maybe that was for the best. Finally, she turned and walked back to us.
“That’s done,” she said. “Let’s go to the apartment. It’s a nice morning, but there’s so much traffic on these streets.”
Except for the Queen’s men, we hadn’t seen a soul. “What did you do?”
“Nothing they hadn’t allowed by coming onto my territory. Every soul who came here on the Queen’s business will go home, go to bed, and sleep soundly, dreaming the sweetest of dreams.”
Something about that statement had teeth. I paused, and then ventured, “For how long?”
The Luidaeg smiled brilliantly. “Until something wakes them up. True love, childbirth, and bees are all on the table.”
It seemed grossly unfair. I knew better than to say anything about it. As the Luidaeg was so fond of pointing out, Faerie isn’t fair, and as a punishment, it was entirely in line with what the stories said she’d do. Instead, I just nodded. “Let’s go.”
No one bothered us on the way back to her place. I was unsurprised to see that the illusory mess she created for my benefit was back when she opened the door. “Come in. I don’t have all day.”
“Neither do I,” I said, following her inside. “Did you send me to look for information on King Gilad because you wanted me to start looking for Arden Windermere?”
“You mean Her Highness the Crown Princess in the Mists, even if she wasn’t formally recognized,” said the Luidaeg, and smiled. “Good girl. This way.” She started for the living room. We followed her.
She was already on her knees in front of an old oak sea chest when we got there, throwing things randomly to the floor as she dug them out. “Gilad and his lover never married, because he feared that what had happened to his parents would happen to his wife and children, if he ever publicly acknowledged them,” she said, as soon as we were close enough to hear. “So he hid her, for her own protection, and they raised their children in secrecy. But some of us knew. Some of us had to know.” She looked up and smiled, baring her teeth in a distinctly predatory fashion. “Some of us had to craft the charms that hid them.”
“You told the shallowing in Muir Woods that Arden lived,” I said. “King Gilad’s children survived the earthquake.”
“Yes, but they were in no shape to claim the throne, and by the time they were ready, the pretender was already in place.” She produced a glass flask from the chest. It was small, the sort of thing that used to be sold off the back of snake oil wagons, filled with unidentified tinctures and too dear by half. She gave it a shake as she stood. It lit up from within. “They were tired, and heartsick, and they’d never expected to inherit the Kingdom that way. They walked away.”
“But they did not abdicate,” said Tybalt. “They never renounced their claim to the throne.”
“And the kitty earns his keep!” The Luidaeg tapped her nose and offered me the glowing flask. “Here.”
This close, I could see that it was full of live fireflies. I took it anyway, asking, “What am I supposed to do with these?”
“Find Arden. I know she’s alive. I don’t know about her brother—I lost track of him after the War of Silences—but she’s alive, hidden by charms I helped craft when she was a baby.” The Luidaeg smiled wryly. �
��Magic’s a bitch that way. But if you want to stop the goblin fruit, you have to change the law. Since the current Queen won’t do that, you need to change the person who makes the law.”
“And since the Queen has exiled me, this is the perfect time for me to try.” I peered through the side of the flask. “So how will these help me find Arden?”
“She’ll be in a place that anyone who claims allegiance to the Mists never sees—a place you don’t want to go, because it doesn’t exist for you. As long as you keep one of those,” she nodded toward the fireflies, “with you at all times, you’ll see through any illusions in your way. They’ll burn brighter in the presence of my magic, to light your way, and if you set them on the wing, they’ll do their best to chase it down. I caught them myself, on the moors of Annwn, and bathed them for a full month in the moonlight of Tirn Aill. I made them, so I can’t use them, but you can. Each one will glow for a full day once you let it out. If that’s enough . . .”
I counted fireflies. “Ten glowing bugs to help me find a missing Princess protected by charms you can’t see through. After that, all I have to do is depose the current Queen of the Mists, convince Arden to take the throne, and get myself un-banished. Oh, yeah. Piece of cake.” I scowled at the Luidaeg. “Don’t you believe in easy quests?”
“No.” She smiled again. At least this time there was a trace of sympathy in her expression. Not much, but I’d take what I could get. “I don’t want you getting bored.”
“Right.” I looked at Tybalt, and then at the flask of fireflies. “Somehow, I don’t think that’s a risk right now.”
“It never is, with you,” said Tybalt.
“Well, okay.” I slipped the flask into the inside pocket of my jacket, checking twice to be sure it was secure. “Let’s go find a Princess.”
EIGHT
“YOU REALIZE THIS IS one of those things far easier said than done,” Tybalt said, as we stepped out of the Luidaeg’s apartment. “I have some acquaintance with princesses. In my experience, they tend to be either blazingly obvious, or so well-concealed as to be practically invisible.”
“Then it’s a good thing we have magical Princess-finding bugs to help us, isn’t it?” I paused. “I can’t believe I just said those words, in that order, like they meant something. I need coffee.”
Tybalt chuckled richly. Sadly, that just made it harder not to think about coffee. “Is there any time in your life when you do not feel the need for caffeine?”
“Sure. Sometimes I’m asleep.” I pulled the flask out of my pocket, peering at the fireflies. “They look pretty happy in there.”
“You’re concerning yourself with the inner lives of bugs.” Tybalt took my arm, walking toward the nearest wall. “Now I know you require a cup of coffee. Possibly a pot, if we can find a straw capable of handling the heat. Your squire can wait a little longer for your return.”
“I’d argue if you weren’t doing what I wanted you to do.” I paused. “Wait a second. I just thought of something.” I whirled, pulling my arm free as I darted back to the door.
The Luidaeg opened it the second my foot hit the step, leaving me with one hand raised to knock. Our relative positions made it look like I was getting ready to punch her in the face. I froze. She gave my fist an interested look before asking, “Do I need to give that whole ‘sound of the waves running over your bones’ speech again? Because seriously, I can only do fucking terrifying once a day before I get bored and want to go do a crossword puzzle or something.”
“Um. Sorry.” I dropped my hand. “The fireflies. Can they survive on the Shadow Roads? That’s how Tybalt and I got here.”
“Uh-huh.” She held up a finger. “They’re magic bugs.” She added a second finger. “I caught them in Annwn. Winters in Annwn get colder than a Banshee’s tit. I wouldn’t worry about them. Just don’t drop the flask while you’re in there, or you’ll never get them back.”
“What would happen if I let one of them go in there?” The various fae Roads stretched through the empty spaces of the world, at least insofar as I understood them—which admittedly, wasn’t that well. But Tybalt and I had been able to use one of Luna’s Rose Roads to search for someone marooned in another realm of Faerie. If we were trying to find someone hiding in the mortal world, the Shadow Roads should be able to serve the same purpose.
The Luidaeg looked surprised. She blinked, the edges of her irises doing something so odd and reptilian that my brain refused to deal with it, choosing to shunt it to the side where I wouldn’t need to think about it. Then she said, thoughtfully, “You know, that might work. Or it could lose you a firefly before you even have a plan of attack.”
“I’ve gambled more for less,” I said. “It’s worth a try.”
“Important things always are. Don’t die,” she said, and shut the door in my face.
I turned back to Tybalt, who was watching me with undisguised bemusement. I held up the flask of fireflies. “I think I know what we try first.”
“What, pray tell, is that?”
“Dowsing.”
The flask’s cap was screwed on tight, and gave way only after I strained hard enough to bite my tongue. Finally, the cap slipped, and I was able to remove it. The fireflies ignored their sudden chance for freedom, choosing to keep buzzing happily around their artificial home. “Um, would one of you like to help me?” I asked, sticking a finger through the narrow opening. Requesting help from a bunch of bugs made me feel faintly ridiculous.
A bunch of magic bugs. Most of the fireflies continued to ignore me, but one landed lightly on my finger, glowing momentarily brighter. I pulled my hand out of the jar, holding it against the collar of my jacket. “Just, uh, hang out there for right now, okay?”
The firefly obligingly crawled off of my hand and settled on the leather. I couldn’t see it directly, but I could see the glow it cast reflected off my hair, making it look like I was wearing a small flashlight clipped to my shoulder. I put the cap back on the flask, screwing it tight—although not quite as tight—before tucking it back into my pocket. Then I looked up at Tybalt. “Okay,” I said. “Now we can go and get me that coffee.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Were you planning to tell me the precise nature of your plan, or am I doomed to guessing games for the duration of our relationship?”
“These fireflies respond to the Luidaeg’s magic. The Shadow Roads compress distance. I figure if I let this little guy go while we’re on the Road,” I indicated the firefly, “it’ll head for the nearest patch of her magic it can find. All we need to do is make sure we don’t lose sight of it, and we can at least come out in the same neighborhood, if not actually in Arden’s location.”
“That is . . .” Tybalt stopped, an odd look crossing his face. Finally, he said, “That is so nonsensical that I believe it stands an excellent chance of working.”
I grinned. “That’s why you love me.”
“Among many other reasons.” He moved forward with the lithe, inhuman speed that was the birthright of the Cait Sidhe, slinging an arm around my waist before I had a chance to react. Then, without any further comment, he leaned in and kissed me, sweet and slow and tasting of pennyroyal. The heat of his lips chased away all concern for the chill of the Shadow Roads—and as always, the feeling of his hip pressed against mine made me want to forget about everything else and request a trip back to the house for an hour or so of well-earned relaxation.
Sadly, this wasn’t the time. He knew it as well as I did, because he pulled away just as the kiss was on the verge of deepening into something more. My ears were burning, and his pupils were extended to their fullest size—
Shit. “We’re getting too comfortable in places like this,” I said, raising my hand to my lips and wiping the taste of pennyroyal onto my fingers before dragging them through the air, filling them with shadows. “No guarantee the firefly comes out in the Summerlands. Suit up.”
Tybalt blinked. Then he swore and set about weaving his own human disguise. For a few second
s, the air around us was a perfumer’s nightmare of mixed scents, copper and musk, pennyroyal and fresh-cut grass. Then the magic dissipated, and two apparent humans stood where two obvious non-humans had been only a moment before.
“Better,” I said, glancing down. The firefly on my collar was still visible. It had been enchanted by the Luidaeg. I would just have to trust her enchantments extended to making them difficult for humans to recognize as unusual. Bugs are easier to explain than pointy-eared people with inhuman eyes, anyway. I lifted my head. “Ready when you are.”
“Finally,” Tybalt said, a rolling chuckle underneath the word. Then he took my hand and pulled me into the darkness of the Shadow Roads.
The Shadow Roads are always going to be a mystery to me, since I’m not Cait Sidhe, and it’s not like I can stop and examine them while we’re running through the dark, trying to outpace the limits of our lungs. This much I know: that the darkness there is so absolute that even Cait Sidhe can’t see for more than a few feet in any direction—enough to navigate, but not enough to let them know what might be surrounding them. That when we run there, we seem to be surrounded by absolute nothingness, but there’s ground beneath our feet, and we never run in a straight line. That it’s cold, and airless, and if it weren’t for Tybalt, I would die there.
Hopefully, I wasn’t consigning the first of our fireflies to the same fate. Its light was almost blinding in the absolute dark. I slid the forefinger of my free hand under the creature, brought it to my quickly-freezing lips, and spent precious air whispering, “Find Arden,” before I flicked my wrist and sent the firefly flying. It fell, dropping well below the level of what I thought of as the ground. I stopped running, pulling Tybalt to a halt. I hadn’t been sure my plan would work, but I hadn’t expected to send the firefly quite so quickly to its death—
Chimes at Midnight: An October Daye Novel Page 10