Fifteen
THE DOOR, WHICH HAD opened in the hall outside the kitchen, let me out in the shorter, more palatial hallway outside the quarters Etienne shared with Bridget and Chelsea. I cast an amused look over my shoulder at the door itself, which looked as innocent as a door was capable of doing.
“Very smooth,” I said. “Very slick. But I do appreciate it. I’ll try to be around more from now on, okay? At least this time, I didn’t stay away because I wanted to. And I’ve missed you almost every day.”
The knowe didn’t respond, but I got a distinct feeling of approval from all around me. I smiled as I turned toward Etienne’s quarters, heading for them without looking back.
When I raised my hand to knock, the door swung open, and I could hear Bridget in the distance, not well enough to make out any words, but clearly enough to pick up on the smooth Irish tones of her accent, still audible after decades in America. I looked up at the ceiling.
“I know you can invite me anywhere inside you, but I’m still going to be polite about walking into someone else’s private quarters,” I said, and knocked on the doorframe.
Bridget stopped talking. There was a soft shuffling sound, and then she was coming out of the sitting room, a curious expression on her face that faded when she saw me, replaced by delight. “October!” she exclaimed. “Oh, this is a pleasant surprise.”
“It can be pleasant, but it shouldn’t be a surprise,” I said. “Chelsea was supposed to let you know that I’d be coming to get her sooner than later.”
“I did!” said Chelsea, bounding out of the sitting room and down the short hall to stand beside her mother.
She wasn’t even slightly human anymore, but they still looked enough alike to make their relationship very clear.
It was actually something of a relief to see that.
No matter how far removed I got from the way I’d been born, I would always be carrying my biological father with me, buried somewhere deep in the memory of my bones.
That was all I could have asked from my magic, which could be fickle and strange, but always tried its best.
“Mom, I told you, I’m helping Toby find Ray,” she said, stepping around Bridget to stand next to me.
“And I told you, I don’t like you getting involved in the sort of work October does,” said Bridget.
“She’s a hero, and she’s just this side of indestructible.
You’re my girl and my responsibility, and I need to do what’s necessary to keep you safe.
Even if that means upsetting you by telling you that you’re not allowed to go charging into danger with your friends. ”
“Mo-om,” said Chelsea, sounding several years younger than she actually was.
Our mothers can have that effect on us sometimes.
She stepped to the side so that she could glower more effectively at Bridget.
“Toby’s put herself in danger for my sake lots of times.
You can’t tell me that I’m not allowed to do the same in order to help her. ”
“I think you’ll find that I’m your mother, and I can do quite a few things, lassie.
But you’re right that I shouldn’t be trying to forbid you to go and help someone you care about so very much as you care for Rayseline.
I’m sorry to threaten. I just … Sometimes it frightens me, the world you’re determined to be a part of.
” She shook her head. “I always knew I’d lose you to Faerie.
The manner of the loss is what keeps taking me by surprise. ”
“You’re never gonna lose me, Mom,” said Chelsea. “You followed me into the Summerlands. That alone proves that we’re going to make this work, no matter what we have to do for that to happen. I love you, and you love me, and Faerie’s not taking me anywhere.”
Bridget nodded, looking reassured. I turned to Chelsea.
“I need to be in Muir Woods,” I said. “Can you get me there?”
She rolled her eyes. “Please. I can get you to Disney World. Do you want to go to Orlando?”
“Muir Woods will be fine,” I said.
She sketched a portal in the air and we stepped through, emerging in the clearing outside the knowe doors. I shot Chelsea a curious look. She shrugged.
“It seemed rude to just barge in on the queen, and I don’t really want to get in trouble.”
“Fair enough,” I agreed, and looked around the clearing.
Court was long over, and most fae were asleep by now, in the middle of the mortal day.
No real need for guards when there’s no one awake for them to guard against. The unfamiliar Gwragen from before was standing sentinel by herself, leaning most of her weight on her ceremonial spear as she tried not to doze through the day.
The possum was asleep, curled into a tight ball with its nose tucked under its hairless pink tail.
I stood up straighter, tugging my bloodied tank top down like I thought I could somehow make it more presentable that way, and walked toward the guard on duty, Chelsea trailing along behind me.
She didn’t say anything, letting me take the lead, and for that, I was genuinely grateful.
She was a quick study, but she hadn’t grown up with the feudal system, and sometimes her lack of etiquette could verge on outright rude.
Not that I’m a great role model when it comes to “how you should behave around royalty,” but the last thing we needed right now was for somebody to get thrown in the Queen’s dungeons for testing the limits of polite behavior.
“Hello,” I said, once we were positioned well and truly in front of the Gwragen. “Sir October Daye, Knight of Lost Words, Hero of the Realm, here to see Her Majesty, Queen Windermere in the Mists.”
The Gwragen blinked, then raised an eyebrow, looking pointedly at Chelsea.
“This is my squire, Chelsea Ames,” I said, automatically reaching for the excuse most likely to let her into the building. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her making a little fist-pump gesture, and winced. It had been a convenient excuse. She couldn’t possibly intend to hold me to it, could she?
Could she?
“The queen is currently in her chambers, and is not receiving visitors at this time,” said the Gwragen. “Please consider returning tonight, after sundown, when she may be willing to consider seeing you.”
“I’m really sorry, but this is important,” I said. “It’s hero business. You know, safety of the realm and all that nonsense. Please, just let us in. I promise Madden will let us see the queen.”
“The Seneschal is not available at the moment.”
Of course he wasn’t. Unlike most purebloods, Madden had a day job in the human world: he was one of the managers at a little bookstore café down on Valencia Street. He genuinely seemed to enjoy his work, and he brewed an incredibly good cup of coffee.
Which meant he was in a place that definitely had a phone. I took a step backward, holding my hands up like I was conceding the point. “Of course,” I said. “My apologies for bothering you.”
She nodded, then returned to leaning on her spear, effectively dismissing us.
I couldn’t even entirely blame her: we’d never been introduced, and one scruffy, bloodstained changeling, accompanied by a girl barely out of her teens, didn’t exactly scream “potential danger to the entire kingdom.” Still, I’d have to talk to Arden, and possibly Lowry, about getting a proper introduction to any new members of the guard.
My job meant I needed to be able to come and go without stopping to explain myself every single time.
As I was apparently going to need to do now. “What are you doing?” demanded Chelsea, voice a low, angry whisper. “You can’t just give up! We need to get inside!”
I looked at her blandly. “Do you know why we’re here?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No,” she admitted. “But if you were willing to ask me to bring you here, that means this is important. We need to get Raysel back. That means you don’t get to give up until we do.
She matters more than following some stupid hierarchy.
And why is Faerie still a monarchy, anyway? ”
“Because no one’s ever been able to explain to Oberon why it shouldn’t be,” I said, digging my phone out of my jacket pocket. There were bloody fingerprints on the screen from where I’d called Etienne before. “You want to give it a try, you can be my guest.”
Chelsea was one of the few people who didn’t live with me full-time who knew that Oberon was actually back, and I wasn’t making an idle comment when I suggested she try convincing him to convert us to another form of government.
She paled, shaking her head, but stopped arguing with me, which was all I’d really been hoping for.
“Thought not. Now hush and give me a minute to deal with things,” I said, and raised the phone to my ear.
“Borderlands,” said a pleasant female voice after the third ring. “What can I help you find today?”
“Hello, Jude,” I said, identifying the voice as the general manager. “Is Madden available?”
“I’ll check. May I ask why you’re calling?”
Jude was a perfectly pleasant woman. I’d spoken to her a few times, usually when I was looking for Madden.
She was also completely human, and didn’t know anything about what her café manager did in his off hours.
How she would have handled things if I told her that he spent his spare time serving the queen of Northern California, when not turning into a dog and going for runs along the beach, was a question far too complex for my paygrade.
“Just a question about the oat-milk brand they’re using in the café these days,” I said.
“Let me see if I can get him for you; please hold,” she said, and there was a clatter as she set the phone down.
Chelsea, meanwhile, was watching me with wide eyes. She opened her mouth and I held up a finger, signaling for her to be quiet. She settled again, shooting me a sullen look. I shrugged. She could learn to be patient if she was going to insist on following me around all the time.
There was a click, and Jude’s voice returned: “He’ll be right with you,” she said.
“Appreciated,” I replied.