One Salt Sea: An October Daye Novel (29 page)

“What are you—” I began.

“Save your breath,” he hissed. “I’ll come for you.” Then his mouth was covering mine in a kiss as heated as the battle cries of the Goblins rushing up behind us. Everything seemed to slow for that one brief second, and I was all too aware of the heat from his skin, the press of his chest against mine, the faint pennyroyal scent of him. I started to kiss him back—

—and then he was shoving me, hard, into the shadows. As I fell, I saw Tybalt wheel to launch himself at the Goblins, already snarling. Then the shadows closed around me, and I found myself in the endless dark and crushing cold of the Shadow Roads . . . alone.

“Tybalt!” I shouted, before I could catch myself. The cold filled my mouth and flowed down my throat, making me feel like winter was devouring me from within. All the air seemed to rush out of my lungs, leaving me breathless and freezing.

I dropped to my knees, unable to see what was under me, and unable to entirely care. The cold was making me dizzy, and I had no idea how I could find my way out of the shadows alone. I barely even noticed when my eyes closed, trading the endless dark of the Shadow Roads for the endless dark inside my own eyes, and the world fell away.

I
GASPED FOR AIR, clutching the blankets to my chest as I sat bolt upright in the bed. Wait—blankets? Bed? I looked frantically around, taking in my surroundings. I was in a large, white-painted room. The furniture was simple and sturdy, and the single window looked out on a gold-and-purple Summerlands sky. I blinked. We must have crossed the boundary into Faerie while I was unconscious, leaving the mortal world behind.

We?

“Tybalt?” I said uncertainly. The room didn’t answer. I was alone. Alone, and—I looked down at myself to confirm my first impression—wearing a cotton nightgown with the crest of Shadowed Hills embroidered on the bodice. I touched the embroidery with one finger, sighing in relief. I was in Shadowed Hills. That was something good, at least. The film of May’s magic that had covered me was gone; whatever happened after Tybalt threw me into the dark must have stripped away my human disguise.

I stood slowly, keeping my hand on the carved oak bedpost to help my balance. My legs were wobbly, and my head felt like I was coming off a three-day bender.

“When I find that cat, I am going to kill him dead,” I muttered, and stalked to the door, yanking it open.

Jin was sitting in a wicker chair just outside, flipping through a large leather-bound book. She looked up when the door opened, and smiled. “You’re up,” she said. “How do you feel?”

“Naked,” I snapped, before I could think better of it. “Where’s Tybalt? How did I get here?”

“Are you having any muscle pain? Any difficulty breathing?”

“Now I’m feeling annoyed. Where’s Tybalt?”

Jin’s smile faded into a look of aggravated amusement. “It’s always good to see that severe injury doesn’t do anything to improve your manners. Tybalt’s in the Garden of Glass Roses. He’s been there since I kicked him out of your room, which I only did because I was afraid he was going to wake you.”

“Why didn’t you let him?” I demanded. “What did he
do
?” The last thing I remembered was blacking out alone in the shadows—and if that wasn’t the sort of thing that nightmares are made of, I didn’t want to know what was.

“He pushed you through to the Shadow Roads to save your life.” Jin shook her head. “He told me what was happening at the time. Do you have any idea how close you came to being elf-shot?”

“I survived it once,” I said defensively.

“Yes, because your mother rebalanced your blood and weakened the enchantment,” Jin shot back. “That sort of thing is a little bigger than elf-shot. If you’d been hit on the street, you would have died.”

“He left me in the dark,” I said, more quietly than I’d intended to.

Jin sighed. “Toby . . . he didn’t mean to. As to why I didn’t let him wake you, you needed the sleep more than he needed the reassurance. Healing as fast as you do doesn’t mean you need to find new and exciting ways to get hurt. Healing is hard on the body, and doing it all at once doesn’t make it any easier.”

That statement gave me something new to worry about. “How long was I out?”

“About five hours. It’s late afternoon.” Jin looked into my face, studying my pupils. “You were suffering from hypothermia, and had a minor concussion, as well as an impressive number of scratches and bruises. I sang away the worst of it; you healed the rest on your own. You’ll live, especially now that you’ve had some sleep.”

“Good. Where are my clothes?”

“Wouldn’t you like a sandwich? Maybe some coffee?”

“That depends. Do you want me to go storming through the knowe in my nightgown while you’re making snacks?”

Jin glared, shaking her head. “There’s nothing I can say that’s going to make you go back to bed and take it easy, is there?”

“Jin, even under normal circumstances, getting me to ‘go back to bed and take it easy’ is borderline impossible. Right now, I need to go and yell at Tybalt until my throat bleeds, I’m working under contract for the Luidaeg, and we’re technically at war with the Undersea. If there’s ever been a time when I was inclined to ‘take it easy,’ this isn’t it.”

“I could
make
you go back to bed,” she said.

I paused. She probably could. I’ve seen Jin knock Sylvester out when he was in the middle of a full-blown panic attack, and he’s a pureblood. I could argue . . . or I could tell her the truth about why Tybalt and I were outside, alone, when the Goblins came.

“Rayseline has Gilly,” I said quietly. Jin stared at me. I kept talking. “She broke into my daughter’s bedroom, and she took her. Gilly’s mortal parents are hysterical; I’m not much better. I think she’s probably with the sons of the Duchess of Saltmist, which means that if I want to find my daughter, I have to find them. If anyone’s going to stop this war, it’s going to be
me
.” I balled my hands into fists, wishing desperately for something I could hit. “Now, please, Jin. Where are my clothes?”

She sighed, wings vibrating and sending a gust of glittering dust into the air. “They’re in the middle drawer of the dresser, along with your knife and the jacket you were wearing. You’re carrying some pretty potent magical items, you know.”

“A girl likes to be prepared.” I was already moving toward the dresser. If Jin didn’t want to see me naked, she could leave.

Jin sighed again, sounding defeated. “Just be sure to see His Grace before you leave. He’s worried about you.” With this dire statement hanging between us, she closed the door, leaving me alone.

Jin wasn’t exactly telling the truth when she said “my” clothes were in the dresser. My jacket was there, along with my knife belt, but everything else was new, courtesy of the wardrobes at Shadowed Hills. At least whoever picked them out wasn’t trying to dress me like a girl this time, or an escapee from the Renaissance Faire—it was just a fresh pair of jeans and a dark green sweater too soft to be anything but cashmere.

“I am
not
paying to have this dry-cleaned,” I muttered, yanking it on. Ignoring the door, I shrugged into my leather jacket and pressed my hand against a small, decoratively-carved panel set into the wall.

A door opened under my hand, and I stepped through.

Like any large knowe, Shadowed Hills is riddled with back routes and servants’ halls, all tucked out of sight of the casual visitor. They provide the most direct routes through the knowe. Quentin uses the back routes through the knowe as much as he uses the main halls, and I’ve learned a lot about navigating quickly since I started paying attention to where he goes. Getting from the guest rooms to the Garden of Glass Roses would normally be a ten- or fifteen-minute walk. By cutting behind the bulk of the walls and major thoroughfares, I got there in less than five.

The Garden of Glass Roses has always been one of my favorite parts of Shadowed Hills. Luna is a supernaturally skilled gardener, and nothing displays her skills as well as her living glass rosebushes. Not everything in the garden is glass—just the rosebushes and the butterflies—but the light that filters through them throws stained-glass shadows over everything, making the whole place seem like a cathedral. Few people go there; it’s a place for introspection more than casual strolls. Normal roses have thorns, but they don’t cut deep enough to leave you needing stitches. Glass roses are another story.

The door from the servants’ halls was concealed behind a stand of love-lies-bleeding. I stepped through and eased the door closed before moving into the open. “Tybalt?”

He whirled, eyes going wide. Then he smiled so broadly that it was like a second sunrise, starting toward me at a pace just shy of a jog. “October,” he said, relief naked in his tone. “You’re awake.”

“It had to happen eventually,” I said. He reached for my hands. I pulled them away, crossing my arms until I was practically hugging myself, like somehow that would defend me. From what, I didn’t entirely know. “What happened back there?”

“I—you were—I saw—” Tybalt stopped, and sighed, something unendurably weary in his eyes. “They almost shot you. I had to remove you from the line of fire.”

“So you
pushed
me into the
Shadow Roads
? Maeve’s teeth, Tybalt, did you not pause to think that maybe something could go wrong with
that
particular stroke of genius?”

He shook his head. “No. I did not pause. I did not hesitate. Your life was in danger, and while I knew the Shadow Roads would be less than hospitable, I also knew they wouldn’t kill you. I’m sorry to have harmed you. I’m sorry to have caused you distress. But what I did, I did to save you, and I would do it again, were the same moment to be set before me.”

I glared at him. He glared back. Finally, I said, “I’m supposed to be at the Queen’s Court at dusk. I should really get moving if I’m going to be on time.”

“Then we should go.”

I raised an eyebrow. “We?”

“
We
,” he said, firmly. “Be as angry with me as you like, October; the fact remains that you need me, at least for now. As I have already said, I’m sorry to have harmed you. I’m not sorry, in the slightest, to have saved you.”

I sighed. “You’re right. Come on.” The question of how we’d get from Pleasant Hill to San Francisco without my car or a trip down the Shadow Roads could be answered once we started moving. If all else failed, I could always call Danny.

“October . . .”

“Not now.” I shook my head. “We need to have this conversation, but we need to do it at a time that isn’t now. After Gilly’s back. After we stop this war. After I’ve had time to finish being mad at you.”

Tybalt smiled, very slightly, and nodded. “I suppose I can accept that.”

“Good,” I said. “Now come on.”

We walked to the garden door. The hall outside was deserted. That made sense. It was afternoon; most of Shadowed Hills would be asleep for a few more hours at least.

“Where do we begin?” Tybalt asked.

Now that I was past the initial rush of fury, every inch of me was screaming that I needed to go, go, find my daughter, and let the rest of Faerie hang. I couldn’t do that. Thankfully, I didn’t have to; finding Gillian would mean finding Rayseline, and the missing Lorden boys. I could do everything at once—assuming I could accomplish anything at all.

“First, we need to see Sylvester,” I said. “I have to tell him what we’ve learned. He needs to understand what’s been going on.”

“This isn’t likely to be something he’ll want to hear.”

I sighed. “It never is, is it?”

I could hear voices up ahead; some people were already awake and moving around. I picked up my pace, and was rewarded with the sight of two pages in the hall just around the corner, both of them sagging in that “up way too early” way. I vaguely recognized them as Quentin’s contemporaries and members of his general social circle within the knowe. Somehow, they looked like they were at most half his age. He’d been doing a lot of growing up lately, and doing it fast.

The Glastig spotted us first. His eyes went huge, and he poked his Cornish Pixie companion in the side, fast, before jerking his head in our direction. Her eyes got even bigger. By the time we reached their position, both of them were standing at attention, spines locked like they’d been replaced with iron bars.

“Countess Daye—” began one, in perfect synch with the “Sir Daye—” from the other.

I smiled a little. “You should really get your titles straight before you try that again,” I said. “Is Sylvester available?”

The Cornish Pixie swallowed hard. “He’s waiting for you,” she said. “In the throne room. He said to say if we saw you.”

Sylvester had to know I’d go looking for Tybalt as soon as I woke up, and there are dozens of routes we could have taken from there. I raised an eyebrow. “How many of you does he have stationed around the knowe, waiting for me?”