The fact that he’d managed to go this long without asking was something of a miracle all by itself. I took a breath, and began, “We found a dead changeling girl lying in an alley . . .”
It took most of the drive for me to explain what had happened since we found the dead girl in the alley, especially since I kept having to pause to give Danny directions. Tybalt interjected when necessary, mostly to make dire predictions about the Queen’s reign and Sylvester’s future health. I didn’t ask him to stop threatening my liege. Maybe I should have, but Sylvester should have known what he was getting into when he barred my Cait Sidhe boyfriend from my bedside. In the future, he might think twice before doing something that stupid.
Silence fell over the car when we were done. Danny kept driving, his brows knitting into a rocky shelf above his eyes. Finally, he took a breath, and passed judgment:
“Damn.”
“I know.”
“I mean, seriously . . . damn.”
“Yeah.”
“When you decide it’s time to up the ante on getting into deep shit, you don’t mess around, do you? You’re just like, hey, what’s the worst that can happen? That’s the worst that can happen? Great. Let’s do that.”
“That’s not fair,” I protested.
“Says the more-mortal-than-not girl with the goblin fruit addiction she got from being hit in the face with a pie,” Danny shot back. “You sure that chick from Dreamer’s Glass hasn’t been playing with your luck again?”
“I’m sure,” I said. My stomach grumbled. I dug the baggie of blood gems out of my pocket as I added, “There haven’t been enough disembowelments. Li Qin’s luck manipulation really focused on getting me disemboweled.” Trying to hide the motion as much as I could, I pulled one of the larger stones out of the bag and popped it into my mouth, where it dissolved into the taste of lavender and mint. My stomach stopped growling.
Thank Oberon.
“Yeah, well, there’s not going to be any of that while I’m with you,” said Danny, pulling the cab to an abrupt stop in front of the bookstore that housed the Library of Stars. “Disembowelment is pretty fatal, and I don’t like fatal. We’re here.”
“I see that.” I opened the door. “You want to come in?”
“Nah.” Danny shook his head. “I don’t like leaving the cab unguarded, and from what you were sayin’, the Queen’s guards might try to mess with it if I did. I’ll wait. Take your time, I got a book.”
“We will be respectful of your time,” said Tybalt—as close to a thank you as he could really get. He slid out of his seat more quickly than my too-human eyes could follow, moving to offer me his hand. “Come, little fish. Knowledge awaits us.”
“Yippee,” I said dryly, letting him pull me from the cab. “Back soon, Danny.”
“I’ll be here,” said the cabbie.
Knowing that he had my back was even more reassuring than I would have guessed. Feeling almost relaxed for the first time in a while, I kept hold of Tybalt’s hand as we walked into the dusty bookstore. When we approached the point where the entrance to the Library of Stars was hidden, he swept me smoothly off my feet and into his arms. I squeezed my eyes shut, letting him carry me through the door I couldn’t see.
“I hate this,” I muttered, as softly as I could.
His lips brushed my ear. “I know,” he murmured, and set me back on my feet.
I sighed and opened my eyes, sticking close as we walked through the darkened stacks to the small open space where Mags and Quentin had been when we left. I could hear voices before we got there, one male, one female.
“—not that anyone’s found.” Mags. She sounded frustrated. This argument, if that was what it was, had clearly been going on for a while. “I’ve pulled out all the books, I’ve even pulled out books where the footnotes might have been relevant, and there’s nothing. No one has ever found a treatment for goblin fruit addiction in humans. No one has really even looked.”
“Merlins, then. Or Selkies. They’re both almost human, and they’re both powerful enough to do their own research.” Quentin. He didn’t sound frustrated. He sounded angry, and determined—and yes, a little bit scared. If I hadn’t known him for so long, I wouldn’t have been able to hear that part. “Maybe they know something.”
“The merlins don’t have any answers,” said Mags. “You’re grasping at straws.”
“Yeah, and the Selkies don’t know anything either,” I said, stepping out of the stacks. Mags and Quentin were sitting across from each other. They still both jumped when they saw me, looking like they’d been caught in the act of doing something wrong. “I just got done talking to the Luidaeg. She’d know if the Selkies had a treatment for goblin fruit, and since she wants me to stay among the living, I sort of figure she would have told me. She didn’t—she didn’t even hint—so I’m guessing there’s nothing.”
“You’re looking . . . well,” said Mags, clearly unsettled.
“You mean I’m not totally lost in DTs and screaming for a fix? Yeah, I’m pretty impressed with that, too.” I crossed my arms. Tybalt was a comforting presence behind me. “How’s the research going? Have you two found anything of any use?”
“No,” said Quentin. “There are some treatments for three-quarter changelings, but they’re all hit-or-miss. There’s nothing that works on half-bloods, much less . . .”
“Much less whatever the hell I am right now,” I said, finishing his sentence for him. “Okay, we stick with the plan. We kick the current Queen off the damn throne that wasn’t hers in the first place, get Arden confirmed, and get the hope chest out of the royal treasury so I can shift myself back to normal. And we hope that we can do it really fast, before this stuff gets the better of me. Does anybody have any objections?”
Silence.
“Does anybody have any better ideas?”
More silence.
“Great. Quentin, get your things. Danny’s waiting outside, and we should get over to Goldengreen. Arden doesn’t know it yet, but the timeline on our insurrection has just been moved up by circumstances beyond our control.” I shook my head. “We’re going to fix this.”
“How?” whispered Mags.
I shot her a glare. Stalking over to the coffee table, I snatched the flask of fireflies and tucked it back into my jacket pocket where it belonged. She looked mournfully after it. “Does it matter? As long as it gets fixed, I’m willing to call it good.” I turned to go.
“Wait,” said Mags.
I stopped, looking back at her, and raised an eyebrow.
She stood, wings vibrating nervously, and asked, “Did the Luidaeg know anything that might help you find a hope chest? I’m happy to keep researching while you do whatever you feel needs to be done.” She indicated the stacks around her, a wry smile briefly painting her mouth. “It’s not like I’m exactly crawling in company. This is the most excitement I’ve had in decades. I want to help.”
“The Luidaeg doesn’t know where any of the hope chests are right now, except for the one the Queen has,” I said. It seemed somehow too . . . personal . . . to tell Mags that the Luidaeg was Antigone of Albany. The Firstborn traded their names for titles for a reason, and I would respect that, as long as I could do so without making things even worse. “Since the Queen isn’t going to let me borrow it, we need to get moving. We’re on a deadline here.”
“I’m ready,” said Quentin, trotting over to stand next to me.
I had to look up slightly to meet his eyes. I wrinkled my nose. “Who gave you permission to be taller than me?”
“You kept feeding me,” he said, relief evident in his voice. If I was still making jokes, however bad, there was still a chance that things would be all right.
My stomach rumbled at the mention of food. I put a hand across it, trying to be subtle, and turned my attention back to Mags. “If you want to help, we’re happy to have you. Keep looking for anything about curing goblin fruit, or at least mitigating its effects for extended periods. And if you happ
en to find a convenient map to the hope chests of the world, I’d love to see it.”
“All right,” said Mags. “I’ll call you if I find anything.”
“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.
EIGHTEEN
QUENTIN 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 firef
ly 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.”
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