“We’re on that planet,” I said firmly. “Sit back down. I need you to stay here.”
“Because . . . ? Seriously, Toby, I want to know why you think leaving your indestructible, incredibly useful sister behind is a good idea. I won’t lie, I’m not feeling it.” May crossed her arms and glowered at me. “I should be with you on this one. I have actual experience.”
“You have someone else’s experience,” I said. “You’ve told me yourself that most of your memories come from either me or Dare, since we were the last two people you shared blood with as a night-haunt. We color everything you remember. Neither one of us was ever what you’d call a diplomat.” I’d improved since the cutoff point between May’s memories and my real life—I hadn’t been given much of a choice—but the woman I’d been when May tasted my blood and took my face had never been forced to learn how to rein herself in. That woman was long dead, thankfully, buried under the weight of the experiences I’d had since then, but part of her lived on, in May.
“And? You have to take backup with you, or we’re getting you back in a box.”
“I’m going to call home and see whether my parents want me to go with Toby,” said Quentin, walking over and handing me the plate with my sandwich. “I’m going to do that now.” He waved to May and Jazz as he walked out of the kitchen, presumably to make his phone call someplace that was more private, and maybe quieter. The fact that he’d be out of the blast radius was nothing but a bonus.
May didn’t say a word. She just pointed after Quentin, her arm stiff and trembling slightly with anger.
“Quentin is my squire,” I said. “It looks stranger if he doesn’t come with me than if he does. No one knows about where he comes from but us, Tybalt, and Arden. Nobody in Silences is going to stand up and say, ‘Hey, that kid looks the way the Crown Prince was rumored to look back before his parents hid him. Let’s take him hostage.’”
“They might,” snapped May. “You’re being stupid. You need to take me with you.”
“I’m already taking Quentin—maybe—and Tybalt,” I said. “Since there’s a good chance Arden will want to send someone with me to keep an eye on things, I’d say the party is about full. Bringing you and Jazz along starts to look like an entourage.”
“Hang on there,” said Jazz, looking suddenly alarmed. “Who said anything about me coming with you? I’m not going with you. I’m staying right here to feed the cats and Spike and not get used as target practice by some Silences archer who thinks ravens make good stew.”
I blinked. “I’m sorry, Jazz. I just assumed . . .”
“You can stop assuming, honest. I love May. She’s a big girl. A big, indestructible girl. I am not an indestructible girl. When there’s a war, I stay away from the battlefield until the killing is over and the scavenging begins.” May and I gave her matching appalled looks. Jazz shrugged. “When I’m a woman, I eat Pop-Tarts and vindaloo. When I’m a big black bird, I eat eyeballs and spleens. It’s all part of the glorious contradiction that is me.”
“Ew,” I said.
“She brushes her teeth before I let her kiss me. She brushes her teeth a lot,” said May. She turned back to me, sighed, and said, “I didn’t want to play this card, but here it is. You’re either taking me or you’re taking Stacy. Who would you rather have with you in a dangerous Court? Your roommate who can’t be killed, or your thin-blooded best friend with five kids who depend on her?”
I frowned. “Why would I take either one of you?”
“Because you don’t know how to style your own hair,” said May, with a shrug. “You’re bad at doing makeup, your idea of ‘court formal’ is actually offensive, and you usually look like you forgot how to operate a hairbrush. We’re used to you around here—you’re even sort of endearing, since you’re all ‘local girl made good’ and ‘Duke Torquill’s pet project’—but in Silences? Where they already think of changelings as being inferior to purebloods? You have to be better than you have ever been. Better groomed, better prepared, and better braced for what’s going to hit you. You need a lady’s maid, October. Given your friends, it’s either me or Stacy. Now pick one.”
I stared at her for a moment, open-mouthed and stunned into silence. I had never even considered how I was going to dress for the Court of Silences, or how they were going to judge me on things like how I wore my hair. It was stupid, and shouldn’t have mattered when there was a war on the horizon . . . and May was right. It did matter.
“Go pack your things,” I said finally. “We’re going to get some sleep, and we’ll head for Muir Woods as soon as we wake up. Arden will open a portal to Portland for us. After that, we’re on our own.” I pushed away from the counter, taking my untouched sandwich with me.
“Where are you going?” asked May.
“To call the Luidaeg,” I said. “I figure I may as well let everyone yell at me at once.” I didn’t look back as I walked out of the kitchen, leaving the two of them behind.
FIVE
“WHAT?” THE LUIDAEG’S VOICE was essentially a snarl, filled with the kind of irritation that should have earned her an apology and a quick disconnection.
It was too bad for her that I had learned to see through some of her disguises. She was never as angry as she sounded on the phone; her tone of voice was one of the few deceptions she had left, thanks to her big sister geasing her to always tell the truth, and so she always answered like she was going to kill whoever had called. Everybody needs a hobby. “Luidaeg, it’s me,” I said, sitting down on the edge of my bed. The bedroom door was closed, buying me at least the illusion of privacy.
“Toby?” The anger faded immediately, replaced by pleased surprise. “I thought you weren’t coming over until later this week.”
“I’m not, or at least I’m not planning to. I have a problem.”
She chuckled, low and dark, like bones rolling on the bottom of the sea. “Don’t you always have a problem? The day you don’t have a problem, you’ll probably decide that that’s a problem, and go looking for one.”
“I can’t say you’re wrong, but this is a real problem.” I described what had happened at Arden’s as quickly and concisely as I could without leaving anything out. It was easier than I had expected it to be. I’ve had a lot of practice at describing bad situations over the past few years.
When I finished, there was silence from the other end of the phone for several seconds before the Luidaeg sighed. “I should have seen this coming,” she said. “Silences has been a danger ever since your last Queen decided to put her patsy on the throne. Don’t underestimate him just because he’s a fool, October. Rhys always knew how to play the political game. He was going to be King one way or another. Silences just gave him a throne that didn’t require a wedding ring to go with it.”
The thought of the false Queen marrying anyone was startling enough to throw me off for a moment before I said, “I have to go. I don’t have a choice.”
“No, you really don’t. Once you put your hands on Arden, your fate was sealed.” The Luidaeg chuckled humorlessly. “Really, you just lie awake all day coming up with new ways to screw yourself over, don’t you?”
“Sometimes even I’m not sure.”
“Regardless, I’m assuming you called because you want my help.”
“The thought had crossed my mind. I also thought you might want to know that I was leaving the Kingdom. The deadline you gave the Selkies—”
“Is mine to worry about. I’ll tell you when you’re needed.” Her tone left no room for argument, and honestly, I didn’t mind.
The Luidaeg was the Firstborn daughter of Maeve and Oberon, and like every Firstborn I had ever met, she had been the mother of her own race: the Roane, shapeshifters and fortunetellers who manipulated storms and lived happily in the waves. They were almost extinct in the modern day, thanks to a betrayal by her elder sister, Eira Rosynhwyr, better known as “Evening Winterrose.” She had given knives and instructions to a group of people with more greed than sense, and they had skinned the Roane alive. Those same people’s children had returned the pelts to the Luidaeg after killing their own parents. They had begged her for mercy, and she had shown it, in her way. She had transformed them into Selkies, entrusting them with the burden of keeping her children’s magic alive.