Ashes of Honor: An October Daye Novel (44 page)

More gunshots in the distance; more screaming from the Folletti. And then a hand grabbed hold of the foot of the wagon, and Duchess Treasa Riordan yanked herself up into view. Her face was distorted by rage, and there were bits of broom in her red-black hair. She grabbed for me, snarling, “All you had to do was stay out of the way, you stupid little half-blood bitch! I was giving you people what you always wanted! I was getting out of your precious territory!”

I managed to shove myself out of her grasp—barely—before saying, “You shouldn’t have started by kidnapping kids if you didn’t want me to get involved.” I kicked at her hand. She shifted her grip out of my reach, and kept pulling herself up, while Quentin continued to drive us, full-speed, toward the portal.

Riordan reached into her shirt, producing a slender knife. It was a ritual blade, the kind some Daoine Sidhe purebloods use when a spell calls for bloodletting—like the tool you use to hurt yourself can somehow make the act less painful. And it didn’t matter, because I was already so hurt that one more injury might well push me over the point of no return. I tried to scramble farther toward the front of the wagon, pushing against the wood with my ankles and elbows.

Light glinted off the ruby around her neck. The ruby…in Samson’s earliest memories, she’d been wearing a diamond, but after she got hold of Chelsea, the
stone changed color. And Riordan made blood charms. Suddenly, I understood how she’d been calling Chelsea back to her over and over again. All it took was a little bit of blood. Any extra would have been used to craft the teleportation charms she’d been giving to Samson.

He was the one who opened the door to the Fire Kingdoms. He killed Tybalt. The realization made me furious and tired at the same time—it was just one thing too many.

And not everything had been dealt with. “Changeling children exist to be disposable,” said Riordan, getting to her feet. She straightened, holding the knife in front of her as she effortlessly kept her balance in the jouncing wagon. “Why else would anyone lower themselves to copulating with a
mortal?
”

I kicked at her again. She stepped aside. “Children are
never
disposable!”

“Spoken like someone who should have been drowned before she could grow up to bother her betters.” Riordan shook her head. “You’re still a changeling. Even if you spoil things for me, no one’s going to be able to touch me.”

“Quentin’s not a changeling,” I gasped, levering myself into a half-seated position, with my shoulders braced against the back of the driver’s platform. Raising my voice, I shouted, “Quentin! Drive faster!”

“The horses don’t go any faster than this!” Quentin shouted back. He sounded strained, but not worried. That could only mean one thing.

He didn’t know Riordan was in the wagon.

Riordan herself grinned, clearly coming to the same conclusion, and took a step toward me. I fumbled my own knife from my belt, holding it in front of me. I wasn’t going to scream. No matter what, I wasn’t going to scream. If there was any chance of Quentin getting out of here—if he could keep his panicked horses under control long enough to get to the portal that Chelsea was still holding open—then I had to make sure he would
take it, and that meant not distracting him with my own impending stabbing.

“I really hate you,” I muttered, trying to get into a defensible position. It wasn’t working. I’d lost too much blood, and my body was giving up on me.

“The feeling’s mutual, sugar,” said Riordan, and raised her knife.

Tybalt seemed to appear out of nowhere, vaulting over the side of the wagon and grabbing Riordan by the throat. His teeth were too large for his mouth, distorting it until there was no way he could have managed human speech. He didn’t need to. The roar he directed into Riordan’s face made his message perfectly clear.

“Tybalt!” I shouted. “The charm!”

He grabbed Riordan’s ruby with his free hand, yanking it loose and tossing it to me. I caught it, barely. Then he lifted her, struggling, and flung her off the back of the wagon. She screamed as she fell. I didn’t see her hit the ground.

“October!” Tybalt rushed over to me, dropping to his knees as he tried to gather me into his arms and check my injuries at the same time. It was an impossible task. He did his best. “Are you all right?”

Manic giggles bubbled from my lips before I could stop them. I pressed my forehead into his shoulder, and said, “No. Not even a little.” Then I stiffened. “Tybalt, Chelsea—”

“Etienne has her. He’s helping her keep the portal stable long enough for us to get through.” Tybalt raised his head, looking past me to where Quentin was steering us, hell-bent, toward the portal. “We’re almost there. Can you hold on?”

“I made it this far, didn’t I?” I tucked the ruby into my pocket and closed my eyes. Sometimes the hardest part of heroism is admitting that the battle is out of your hands. This wasn’t my fight anymore. It was Etienne’s, and Chelsea’s, and Quentin’s race against a changeling girl’s endurance. All I could do was let Tybalt hold me
and try to pretend that I wasn’t still bleeding. At least it was slowing down. Maybe that was a good sign. Or maybe I was just running out of blood.

My wounds weren’t closing. The damage was done.

The smell of sycamore smoke and calla lilies grew as we approached the portal. Tybalt snarled, carefully settling me on the wagon floor, before leaping to his feet and swatting something out of the air. One of the surviving Folletti screamed. I sort of wished I could lever my eyes open long enough to watch. Then the smell of smoke and lilies became overwhelming, and the whole wagon shuddered, shaking hard from side to side.

The ground beneath us changed textures, going from uneven earth to the smoothly polished stone of Duchess Riordan’s “parking garage.” Chelsea wailed, and I heard Etienne answer her. I couldn’t make out words, but his tone was soothing. The wagon slid to a halt. Almost immediately, a hot wave of magic washed over us, mingling the scents of smoke, calla lilies, and limes. Etienne was helping his daughter close the portal.

Somewhere behind us, Riordan screamed, the sound cutting off in the middle, as if a plug had been pulled—or a hole had been closed.

“October?” Tybalt’s voice was close enough that I knew he had to be right beside me. I just couldn’t have said exactly where. “October?!”

There are limits to everybody’s endurance. Mine have changed a lot in recent years, but they still exist, and I had reached them. With a sigh, I stopped clinging to consciousness and let myself tumble the rest of the way into the dark.

I
’M NOT SURE WHICH was more surprising: that I woke up in the white velvet room off Duchess Riordan’s entry hall or that I woke up at all. I blinked up at the ceiling, realizing a moment later that the light levels had changed. The globes of floating witchlight were gone, replaced by a portable array of modern-looking fluorescent lights. “What the—?”

“She’s awake!” I recognized Jin’s voice before she leaned into my field of vision, scowling down at me. “By which I mean, of course, ‘She’s miraculously not dead, again,’ since by all rights, you
should
be. Oberon must really love your dumb ass.”

“Jin?” I levered myself into a sitting position, blinking at her. We were alone in the room, but only on a technicality; I could see faces peeking around the edges of the doorframe behind her. Tybalt, Quentin—and May, of all people. “What’s going on?”

“You nearly died.
Again
. I put you back together.
Again.
Oh, and you owe Tybalt and May so many favors I can’t even put it into words, since he’s the one who made sure we both got here, and she’s the one who donated three pints of blood to your sorry ass.” Jin folded her arms and scowled at me, her wings vibrating into a hazy blur behind her. “Congratulations, you’ve figured
out where your crazy healing powers stop working. You should be dead.”

“You already said that.” My mouth tasted like road kill. I licked my lips, which tasted like blood—not much of an improvement, all things considered.

“I intend to keep saying it until you start to listen. You. Should. Be. Dead.” Jin looked over her shoulder, calling, “She’s awake, and there’s nothing I can do to make her less stupid. You can come in now.”

Tybalt was the first into the room, with Quentin close on his heels. I expected May to be right behind them. I was wrong. Instead, Li Qin sauntered in, an In-and-Out Burger takeout bag dangling from one hand. She held it up while Tybalt and Quentin bent to crush me from either side in an exuberant hug and asked, “Hungry?”

As if on cue, I was suddenly starving. “Yes,” I said, sitting up farther and freeing one arm to reach for the bag. “What are you doing here? Where did these lights come from?”

“Ah. You see, the regent of Dreamer’s Glass has disappeared under mysterious circumstances, and the nobles she shares a border with were concerned, especially since she left no named heir. So Tamed Lightning decided to occupy her fiefdom. Just in case people get ideas they shouldn’t.” Li Qin’s smile was surprisingly predatory as she gave me the bag. “Naturally, if she fails to return, we’ll be claiming the regency. It’s only fair, considering we’ll be expending resources in her defense.”

“And the lights…?” I opened the bag, grabbed the first burger, unwrapped it, and crammed about a quarter of it into my mouth. Calories. Thank Maeve.

“Home Depot, with one of April’s Summerlands-compatible batteries powering them.” Li Qin’s smile died as quickly as it had come. That was good. It had been starting to creep me out. “We have a problem.”

I swallowed. “Don’t we always? What is it this time?”

“Chelsea,” said Tybalt, pulling away from me. His voice was grim. I looked toward him. He met my eyes, shaking his head. “She’s still bouncing, and she’s speeding
up. Etienne is following her, and she’s managed to stay out of Annwn so far, but I don’t know how long he can keep up—and I don’t know what’s going to happen when he loses her.”

I winced. “Oh, Oberon’s eyes. Did you try catching them?”

“In between running for your doctor and your Fetch? Yes.” A humorless smile crossed Tybalt’s face. “I once thought myself a King of infinite space. It seems a Tuatha in panicked pursuit of his daughter can put a girdle ’round the earth in forty minutes.”

“Okay, points for the Shakespeare references, but you lose some for mixing your plays.” I pushed Quentin gently away and levered myself to my feet, noting the way my head spun as I stood. That was a combination of vertigo and needing to eat more of the burgers Li Qin had so thoughtfully provided. “We need to find them. We need to stop her before she damages something we can’t repair.”

“How are you planning to do that?” asked May. “I mean, they were moving pretty fast the last time we saw them. It’s not like you’ll have time to string a net.”

“It’s not like we’re going to need to.” I took another bite of burger, swallowing it without really tasting it before I said, “Chelsea herself said that she kept cycling back to places she’d already been, like she couldn’t help opening those doors over and over. Riordan was using blood magic. I have the charm she was using. We can get Chelsea to come here.”

“How are you going to stop her?” asked May.

I stuck my free hand into the pocket of my leather jacket—now in need of a serious cleaning—and produced the baggie holding Walther’s jar of power-dampening solution. “I’m going to hit her with a guaranteed stop sign. And then I’m going to give her the Changeling’s Choice, whether she wants to take it or not.”

May’s eyes widened. Then her expression softened, with a mixture of sorrow and understanding. “Toby, I’m sorry.”

She wasn’t sorry because I had to give the Choice to Chelsea. She was sorry because the only other person I’d given the Choice to was my own daughter…and Gillian Chose human. I shook my head. “We knew this was coming. I just hope I’m up to it. Tybalt, Quentin, I want you with me in case something goes wrong.”

“I’m coming, too,” said May. I raised an eyebrow. She shrugged. “I
am
indestructible. You just think you are. I figure I’ll jump in front of the next thing that tries to rip your guts out.”

“You’ll need me to bend the luck,” said Li. “Successfully using someone else’s blood charm is unlikely under the best of circumstances. Without me, you won’t have the best of circumstances.”

I gave her a sidelong look. “There’s something you aren’t telling us about how your magic works. Otherwise, why would anything ever go wrong for the people around you?”
Why would your wife have died?

Li Qin hesitated before admitting, in a smaller voice, “There may be a reason you’ve had quite so many life-threatening injuries since we met.”

“And here I thought she was finally living up to her potential,” said Quentin.

“I have the power to ground you, you know,” I said. He grinned at me. I shook my head and focused on Li Qin. “So the luck you bend, you have to take it from somewhere? And that means what, that we wind up with little pockets of bad luck waiting for us?”

“Sometimes the bad hits before the good, but yes, essentially,” said Li Qin.