Seven
THE DOOR WAS UNLOCKED, and while I knew the sun was still up and the park was still open in the mortal world, here in the Summerlands, full night had fallen, casting the knowe into shadows and starlight.
The fae side of Muir Woods was like the most fantastic treehouse ever imagined, an entire palace built into the redwoods, the various levels connected by wooden bridges and winding stairs.
Enough of it was braced on wooden platforms and securely scaffolded foundations that I wasn’t worried about falling, but looking directly down was definitely a quick trip to vertigo city.
As always, pixies flitted around the rail, their tiny bodies glowing like Christmas lights.
I moved toward them, careful to keep my hands visible at all times.
Most of the pixies in Muir Woods knew me well enough to not be scared of me, but with so many new faces around, I didn’t want to push my luck and wind up getting stabbed with a poison-tipped toothpick for my troubles.
“Hey,” I said, once I was close enough not to need to raise my voice. “Queen Windermere wants me to meet her somewhere, but I’m not entirely certain where. Can you take me to her?”
A few pixies chimed, somehow managing to make the delicate tinkling of bells sound bored. It was a skill.
“I’ll ask the kitchen to set out a platter for you at the next banquet.”
Another chime, just as disaffected.
“The next two banquets.”
All the pixies were looking at me now, their faces almost unreadable due to both their scale and the glow emanating from their skin.
“And a punch bowl of mulled wine, but that’s my last offer,” I said. “If that’s not good enough for you, I can see about finding the Queen on my own.”
Now chiming loudly, the pixies pushed themselves into the air and flitted over to circle my head, the wind from their wings ruffling my hair. Then they scattered in all directions, and I was alone.
I crossed my arms, settling in to wait. If Arden was in a hurry, she knew where I was likely to be, and could portal back for me.
If she wasn’t, the pixies would find her soon enough.
Either way, it was nice to have a moment to myself, one where I could just breathe and let the night wash over me, soothing away some of the tension from what had just happened.
It wasn’t a shock that Luna would think Raysel was above being punished for her actions.
I’d already known she felt that way, at least to a degree: I hadn’t expected her to come into a formal court and insult our allies in the process of trying to get Raysel’s record forgiven, but it wasn’t that far from what I’d assumed she would do.
No, the shock was that she’d been willing to be that dismissive of Sylvester in public, in front of the queen who held his oaths.
She’d even argued with Arden: she was losing her faith in our government, if she’d ever had it to begin with.
That didn’t bode well for her continuing to fit in to this kingdom.
It might be time to talk to Raysel about what my mother’s divorce had been like, and what was likely to be asked of her if it came to that.
I sighed, rubbing my forehead with one hand. Things were supposed to be getting simpler, not harder. When were they going to get easy again?
When had they ever been easy in the first place?
Some sort of bird cried off in the distance, sounding like nothing I knew from the mortal world, and I moved to lean against the wall, trying to force my shoulders down and into a neutral position.
May and Jazz were home with Miranda: Simon was with my sisters in the Undersea: my family was safe.
All I needed to do now was talk to Arden, and we could go home.
The scent of river lupine wafted through the air. I tensed momentarily, then tipped my head back until it was resting against the wall. “Hello, Ginevra.”
“How?” The young Princess of Cats sounded genuinely confused, if not annoyed. “I know I didn’t make any sound.”
“Your magic gave you away.”
“Oh, right,” she said, half-scoffing. “I always forget that you can smell what I had for breakfast three days ago.”
“Only if you were eating something magical. Were you?”
“Dunno.” I heard a rustle as she settled against the wall next to me. “Is McDonald’s magical?”
I couldn’t quite stop myself from laughing.
Opening my eyes, I turned my head toward the woman next to me.
She was slightly shorter than I was, more delicately-boned, with hair that was white at the crown and darkened to orange by the time it reached the end, and eyes that were very, very blue.
Faerie likes its deep saturation. She was wearing a dress of purple and gold, the fabric stylized like dragonfly wings folded over each other and around her body.
“I’m guessing you’re here for Raj?” I asked.
She nodded. “He needed to have a representative, since he couldn’t come, and since tonight’s business involved members of his court.”
“It’s not his court yet.”
“No, but it’s going to be. And he really doesn’t want his uncle getting banished or something before they can fight.”
The sad truth of the Court of Cats is that they manage succession through physical strength.
Tybalt would always be a King of Cats—the title is about magical power, not political position—but he had effectively stepped down, ceding his crown to Raj and rendering himself throneless in the process.
Only Raj was too young to fight him and have a prayer of winning, which meant that Ginevra had been called in to stand as Regent, keeping him moving forward and learning his position without facing challenges from roving Cait Sidhe who wanted to rule.
It was a precarious arrangement, but not a unique one, and as long as it was working for them, I wasn’t going to get in the way. I nodded. “I don’t want that either, and I don’t want them fighting before they’re both ready. How much longer do you think the court will tolerate your regency?”
“Tybalt robbed a bunch of Costcos for them during the communal bad dream, and he’s just had a baby. I think they’ll give us another year without complaint, two if we don’t mind them grumbling about it. There’s no rush.”
“There’s always a rush.”
She laughed, short and sharp. “That’s for sure. What are you doing out here?”
“Waiting for the pixies to tell me where to find the Queen.”
As if on cue, a pale purple pixie came streaking toward us, ringing wildly. I held out my hand and she landed lightly, dropping directly into a cross-legged position as she looked at me.
I smiled. “Hello, Lilac. Did you find the queen?”
She rang once, a sharp sound that I’d come to learn meant yes, but didn’t move from my hand. I sighed.
“You want to know where Simon is, don’t you?”
She was tiny, but not so tiny that I couldn’t see her vigorous nod.
“He’s in the Undersea with his new daughters.
They’re still too young to be left alone, and he really didn’t want to come to court tonight.
” There were plenty of reasons he didn’t have any pixies with him in Saltmist. Pixies don’t do well in the Undersea, for one thing.
Their wings get weighted down with water, and they can’t swim.
They’re easy targets for any fish or other predators that might happen to come swimming along.
But he had been their friend for a long time, and Patrick had been their friend before him, and they missed him when he didn’t come to visit.
I paused, feeling suddenly guilty. “I’m going to be visiting him soon, to see the babies,” I said. “We have a way of getting there that doesn’t mean moving through the water. If you’d like to come with us, I can ask whether that would be all right.”
She began chiming wildly, and the light coming from her skin and wings got stronger, making her almost too bright to look at directly.
“So now will you take me to the queen?” I asked.
Lilac nodded again, bouncing to her feet before kicking off into the air. She flew a circle around my head, then began leading me down the balcony to the first winding stair, flying slowly enough that I could keep up, while still fast enough that she didn’t fall out of the air.
I looked at Ginevra, who made a shooing motion with her hands. “Go on,” she said. “I know you need to follow the bug. I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Come see the baby,” I said. “We miss you.” And with that, I took off after Lilac.
Following a pixie when you can’t run without possibly falling down a steep flight of stairs is a fascinating balancing exercise.
I knew I’d be okay if I fell, thanks to the part where I heal like I’m being billed by the second for my injuries, but it would still hurt, and Tybalt would be livid if he let me out of his sight and I immediately tumbled off a supposedly safe walkway.
Broken bones are nobody’s friend. Worse yet, Ginevra was still close enough that he’d definitely find out about it.
We went down the first stair, then along a long floating boardwalk, and down a second set of stairs to a stone foundation I’d seen on other visits.
I followed it, this time to a broad stone stairway that descended slowly into the tangled depths of the loggia, a long open-air corridor enclosed by trellises heavy with thornless blackberry vines.
I’d seen halls like this all my life, but I’d never known they had a special name, not until Tybalt had offered it up as an identifier. Sometimes it’s nice to marry a man whose depths of nerdiness have yet to be fully plumbed.