Late Eclipses (36 page)

The others turned when Quentin started shouting. Connor was the first on his feet, a disbelieving grin spreading across his face. Tybalt was on his feet half a beat behind, wide-eyed and suddenly pale. He looked like a man who wasn’t sure whether to cry or start looking for the catch.

I was too focused on Quentin to comment on anyone else’s reaction. “Careful!” I said, holding out my hands to stop him. “You have to be gentle. I’m still sore.”

He skidded to a stop a few feet away, beaming. “I knew you’d come back.”

“I didn’t go anywhere,” I said, smiling back. It felt good to be outside, even with the buildings blocking most of the light. For the first time in days, it felt good to be alive.

“Yes, you did.”

I didn’t have time to argue. Tybalt’s approach was as swift as Quentin’s, if more decorous and substantially quieter. I didn’t see him make his way down the alley; he was just suddenly there, stopping behind Quentin and looking at me like he wasn’t sure it was safe to come any closer.

“October?” he whispered.

My smile didn’t waver as I turned it on him. “Hey.”

“I . . . hello.” He sounded hopeful and scared at once, like admitting hope would cause me to collapse into dust. Quentin stepped aside, leaving Tybalt and I facing one another. “I assume this means you’re feeling better?”

“A little bit.” My smile softened, until I was certain I had to look like a total idiot. Somehow, I couldn’t find it in myself to care. I stepped forward, narrowing the gap Quentin left behind. “Sorry I didn’t listen to you before. I think I was too out of it. I probably would have hurt myself if I’d tried.”

He blinked, pupils narrowing. “You heard me?”

“Every word.”

“Ah.” He raised a hand to cup my cheek. We stood that way, frozen in a moment I couldn’t quite name, but never wanted to have end.

Everything ends. Connor stepped up next to me, touching my arm like he didn’t believe I was real. Tybalt stepped away, and I turned to face Connor, offering him the same smile. “You jerk,” he whispered, and pulled me into a tight embrace. “You had us all scared out of our minds.”

“I’m not that easy to break.” I let my head rest against his shoulder.

“We weren’t so sure of that,” said Tybalt. I pulled away from Connor as I turned to face him. Connor let go with obvious reluctance, and so I took a small step backward, letting my shoulder blades graze his chest. The solidity of him was a comfort beyond measure. Voice even, Tybalt continued, “That was the worst case of iron poisoning I’ve ever seen. You had us all seeing visions of the night-haunts. How many times do you have to die before you stay buried?”

“How long was I in the cell?” I asked.

“A little over two days,” said Quentin.

“Two
days?
” I squeaked, leaning on Connor to steady myself. Two days in that cell explained why I still felt shaky: iron can be fatal in less time than that.

“Sylvester kept trying to argue or find a way to get you out of it, but the Queen blocked everything. You were going to be executed in the morning,” said Connor. “That’s why I was willing to leave my skin here if it meant getting you out.”

“Oh, root and branch,” I breathed, shuddering. Connor put a hand on my shoulder, bracing me. “I . . . ”

“It’s okay,” said Connor. “We know.”

“All three of you could have died.”

“We didn’t,” said Tybalt, implacably.

“You could have.”

“And you
would
have. Don’t argue with me, Toby, we’ll both lose. Did Raj give you your medicine?” The look Tybalt shot at Raj made it clear that a “no” wouldn’t bode well for the young prince.

“It’s disgusting,” I said flatly. “He said Walther made it. I assume that means he knows you got me out?”

“Unfortunately, yes. You’d have died of iron poisoning if it weren’t for him.” Tybalt reached over to brush my hair back, fingers lingering against the tip of my ear. I could practically feel Connor glaring. “Are you adjusting?”

“Not sure yet.” I sighed. “I think the Luidaeg and I need to have a little question and answer session when this is all over.” So many of the things she’d said to me were starting to make sense. I’d been missing the context I needed to understand them.

“May told us what Amandine did,” Quentin said. “It seems . . .” His voice trailed off. He didn’t have the vocabulary to express what she’d done to me. That was all right. Neither did I.

“Bizarre? Tell me about it.” I looked to Tybalt again. “Did the antidote work?”

“Yes.” He smiled. “My people are recovering.”

“And Luna?”

The smile faded. “The Duchess isn’t well.”

“We’ve treated the roses, but she’s getting worse,” said Connor.

“That’s not acceptable.” I looked around the group. “I have to find Oleander.”

“You’re not leaving here,” said Tybalt.

“You’re right,” I said. Before the looks of relief on the people around me could get too entrenched, I added, “Not until after I’ve put on some real clothes, had a real meal, and drunk about a pot of coffee. Is there coffee?”

“October—” started Connor.

I pulled away. “We can’t hide here forever; either I find Oleander, or I get executed the first time I go home. You
know
Tybalt would get sick of us.”

“Perhaps some of you,” said Tybalt, sounding grudgingly amused.

I looked from face to face. All these people were such vital parts of my life, and I was asking them to let me go again. The trouble was, they knew me well enough to understand why I didn’t have a choice.

“So.” I turned my attention back on Tybalt, and smiled. “Breakfast?”

 

 

 

“N
O. ABSOLUTELY NOT.”

I glanced up from the vital business of trying to construct a sandwich from French toast, rubbery fried eggs, bacon, and strawberry jam. “What’s this objection to?”

“You are not leaving here without me.”

“Ah. Yeah, I am. Sorry about that.” I used a liberal amount of syrup to compensate for the sandwich’s lack of structural integrity and took several messy, wonderful bites before continuing, “I wish I could take you. I really do. But the Queen has to suspect you were involved in breaking me out, if she doesn’t already know. Your subjects need you too much for me to let you put yourself in danger for me again.”

Tybalt glared but didn’t argue. I offered an apologetic smile in return.

“Bet you’re sorry you fed me, huh?”

“There are many things I’m sorry to have done.”

Half an hour ago, I was barely staying upright under my own power. It’s amazing what a difference a solid meal makes. Even better, Tybalt had returned my clothes, including my jacket; freshly cleaned and smelling as strongly of pennyroyal as it did when he first gave it to me. I suspected he’d been wearing it while I was knocked out. Somehow, I couldn’t find it in me to mind.

I’ve always been a fast healer, but this bordered on ridiculous. One more side effect of Amandine’s little parlor trick, and one more thing to discuss with the Luidaeg. Silly me, I always assumed accelerated healing was a Daoine Sidhe thing that just didn’t come up often in company that didn’t make a habit of brawling.

“You can’t go alone,” said Connor, in a carefully nonoffensive, “Toby isn’t thinking things through again” tone. “Assuming you’re in your right mind—which you might not be after the last week—running in alone is begging for trouble.”

“I don’t even know why you think you’re going to find Oleander,” said Quentin. “Won’t she be hiding?”

“She’s cocky, and she wants me to think I’m going crazy,” I said. “She won’t be able to resist showing herself if I come looking.” It was so much easier to think without iron and poison clouding my mind, and with half a pot of coffee in my belly. I wasn’t sure what diner Tybalt had arranged to have raided, or whether they’d been paid, but the coffee was strong, and everything else was at least edible. That was all I cared about. “Besides, who said I was going alone?”

Connor frowned. “You said—”

“I said Tybalt couldn’t come, and I have good reason for that,” I said, trying not to let myself notice the hurt look on his face. He might see my logic. That wouldn’t make him like it. “Raj, you’re out, too. The Court of Cats is already too involved in this, and the last thing I want to do is give the Queen an excuse to start trouble.”

“She can try,” said Tybalt icily.

“I’ll go,” said Quentin.

“No, you won’t,” I said. Quentin added his own wounded look to the one Raj was already giving me. I finished my coffee before saying, “I need you here. The Queen might not connect a random foster with my escape, but Raysel will. Until we know whether she’s reported your disappearance to the Queen, we can’t risk it.”

“My parents will be
so
proud if I get kicked out of the Kingdom of the Mists,” deadpanned Quentin.

“Who, then?” asked Tybalt. His tone was quiet, and still cold. He knew what I was going to say, and I knew from the look on his face that he wasn’t happy about it.

I took a deep breath. “I’m taking Connor.” Connor looked startled, then pleased. “Even if everyone at Shadowed Hills is watching for the escaped felon, they’re not going to be watching for
him
. He knows the knowe as well as I do, if not better by this point, and most importantly, all the locks are keyed to him.”

“And if someone assumes his absence has been unwilling, rather than because he was a part of your rescue?” Tybalt narrowed his eyes, all but glaring at Connor. “There are those who will be happy to say he was forced, and use that as justification for harming you.”

“Yeah, but I’m not one of them,” said Connor. “People know Toby and I were close in the past. The courtiers in the Duchy also know that my wife’s been a little bit unhinged lately. They’re going to assume I ran to Roan Rathad after Toby was arrested, and Sylvester will support that.”

The two men glared at each other. Unexpectedly, Tybalt was the first to look away. “I don’t like this,” he muttered.

“You don’t have to.” I wiped my syrupy hands on a napkin and stood. “Connor, how did you get here?”

“I took the bus.” He grimaced as he rose to follow. “Not so helpful, huh?”

“Not unless we want to be the cavalry of public transportation.” I sighed. “There’s another option. Is there a phone around here?”

Quentin pulled a cellular phone from his pocket and offered it to me. “I don’t like this either,” he said, “but here.”

I took the phone, relaxing slightly as I saw the crest of Tamed Lightning etched into the plastic. Countess April O’Leary of Tamed Lightning is an ally, and more, she’s a techno-Dryad—something that may be completely unique in Faerie, and was only possible because of her adopted mother’s particular mix of Daoine Sidhe and Tylwyth Teg heritage. Her skill at adapting modern electronics to work in the Summerlands makes her the envy of every Gremlin in the Kingdom. If this was one of April’s phones, it was secure.

“Cool,” I said, flipping the phone open and dialing.

Danny picked up on the second ring. “McReady’s Taxi.”

“Danny? It’s me.”

“Toby!” His voice boomed through the phone loudly enough for everyone to hear. “Fuck’s sake, girly, I thought you were—” He cut himself off. “Never mind what I thought. You safe? You need me? Where are you—no, wait. Don’t tell me where you are if it’s not safe. When they said you’d escaped, I thought—”

“Danny!” I hated to interrupt, but I didn’t have time for him to calm down on his own. “Connor and I need a ride to Shadowed Hills. Are you available?”

“You, ah, sure that’s a good idea? What with the Queen and the sentence of death and everything? Not saying I won’t do it—pretty sure she’s gunning for me already, after the way I mouthed off at your trial—just it might not be the safest thing you could do.”

“I have to.”

“In that case, I’m yours. Just say where.”

“Great.” I cupped a hand over the receiver. “Tybalt? Where are we?”

He sighed, muttering, “I shouldn’t tell you,” before adding, in a normal tone, “The exit will place you at the corner of Derby and Telegraph.”

“Okay.” To the phone, I said, “Berkeley. Derby and Telegraph.”

“Be there in ten,” said Danny, and hung up.

I tossed Quentin his phone. “Come on, Connor. He’ll be here in ten minutes. You guys . . . just be safe. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” I spread my fingers, filling them with shadows, and almost lost hold again as my magic rose eagerly to answer. It was too fast; I didn’t know how to control it. Forcing myself to keep breathing, I wove the cut grass and copper strands into a human disguise, throwing it over myself and letting my hands unclench. It was easy; too easy.

“Your magic smells funny,” said Raj, bemused.

He was right. The copper was too sharp, like freshminted pennies. There’d be time to think about that later. Not letting myself hesitate, I turned, gesturing for Connor to follow. We almost made it before Tybalt caught up with us, grabbing my arm and spinning me to face him. I raised my eyes to his, barely aware of holding my breath.