I stared at her.
She blinked. “What? Did I say something wrong? Not that it matters—Libraries are sovereign territories. I can’t commit treason unless I do it outside these walls.”
“Good to know.” I set the book I’d been struggling with aside. “How can you be sure she wasn’t his heir?”
Mags blinked again, wings buzzing in a rapid blur that telegraphed her confusion. “Because I met his children.”
I was on my feet before I realized I was going to move. “Children? King Gilad never married.”
“Marriage is not a requirement for children, nor does every marriage result in children,” said Mags slowly. “Do I need to add some books about sexual reproduction to your pull list?”
“No! I mean . . . he was the King. Why wouldn’t he have gotten married if he was going to have children?”
“As a King, I believe I can answer that,” said Tybalt. I turned. He was standing in the opening of the nearest row of bookshelves with Quentin and a tray of take-out cups. “I never introduced my wife to the Divided Courts. My cats knew her because I wanted her to have their protection. But she never met a soul she did not need to know.”
He walked over to me, taking the largest of the cups off the tray and holding it out. I took it. He smiled, a little sadly.
“A King learns to conceal what matters most, lest others use it as a weapon against him. I learned that early and held it dear. If King Gilad had children, he did well to keep them from the public eye.”
“A little too well, since it looks like it netted us the wrong Queen.” I turned back to Mags. “Were they too young to claim the throne when their father died?”
“They may have been dead, or injured, or lost in grief,” she said. “The Kingdom was in chaos after the earthquake. No one expected Gilad to be killed. If Arden and Nolan lived—”
I went still. “Wait. Arden?”
“Yes. Arden Windermere, the King’s daughter.”
When Dean and Peter Lorden were kidnapped, their kidnappers hid them in a shallowing in Muir Woods. The Luidaeg was able to convince it to let us in by telling it that Arden lived. The Luidaeg never lied.
The King’s daughter was alive.
Quentin’s thoughts had clearly mirrored mine. He nodded toward the door. “I’ll stay here and keep reading,” he said.
“Good,” I said. “Mags, if we go, can we come back?”
“Of course,” she said. “A Library pass is good for a fortnight, and you owe me information. The Library will not move as long as your pass is good.”
“Since that’s more time than I have left in the Kingdom, that should be more than enough.” I turned to Tybalt. “We need to go back to the Luidaeg.”
He nodded. “Yes. I suppose we do.”
“Wait!”
We both turned to Mags. “Yes?” I asked.
“Is the Luidaeg still in San Francisco?” Her cheeks reddened as she added, “I haven’t heard from her in years. I thought she’d moved on to some other coastal city.”
“She’s here,” I said. “I don’t know why, but she’s here. And I think she knows where Arden Windermere is, which means I need to talk to her. Quentin, call if you need anything, or if you need us to come and get you, okay?”
“Okay.” He sat down on the couch with his coffee. “I’m good at research.”
“Compared to me, so are pixies.” I looked to Mags. “It’s been lovely to meet you. I hope we meet again soon.”
“As do I,” she said. “Open roads and kind fires.”
“All winds to guide you,” I replied, and moved toward Tybalt. He put the tray with the remaining cups down before taking hold of me and stepping into the shadows. The last thing I saw was Mags’ startled expression. Then the blackness blocked everything else, and we were running through the cold, me trying to hold Tybalt’s hand and my coffee at the same time, Tybalt pulling me along at his usual breakneck pace. I thought briefly about drinking the coffee, and decided that would cross the line from silly to stupid.
The sun had come up while we were in the Library; its walls had been enough to protect us from the effects of the dawn. That was a pleasant surprise. We emerged from the shadows onto the street a few blocks from the Luidaeg’s apartment. I stepped away from Tybalt and peered into my coffee cup before sighing. “It’s frozen.”
“That happens to liquids on the Shadow Roads,” said Tybalt. He sniffed the air, and frowned. “October . . .”
“Is this where you tell me the Queen is staking out the Luidaeg’s place in order to keep me from going for help?”
He paused, frown deepening, before he asked, “How did you know?”
“It’s what I’d do, if I were feeling really stupid and predictable.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket, dialing half a phone number before muttering, “Pussy-cat, pussy-cat, where have you been? I’ve been to London to piss off the Queen,” and filling the rest of the screen with zeros. The cut grass and copper smell of my magic rose around me as I raised the phone to my ear.
It was ringing. It shouldn’t have been, but it was, and that meant that it was working. As expected, the Luidaeg picked up after the first ring, demanding, “What?”
“The Queen has troops watching your apartment to make sure I can’t reach you. Tybalt and I are a few blocks north, at the edge of your anti-teleportation field. Can you please come get us? I need to talk to you.”
“She has people watching my apartment?”
“Yes, and I’m feeling sort of exposed out here on the street. Come get me.” I hung up.
Tybalt looked at me, one eyebrow raised. “I realize the sea witch is a friend of yours, October, but are you sure it’s wise to talk to her that way?”
“My head hurts from trying to read all those stupid books at the Library, I’ve been exiled, I’m wearing a dress, and my coffee’s frozen.” I folded my arms and scowled. “I’ll talk to her any way I want to.”
“Even so.”
I paused, and then sighed. “I’m sorry. I don’t have much patience left.” A suspiciously deep shadow had formed along the wall of the nearest alley. I eyed it before calling, “I’m supposed to have three days. Why don’t you scuttle on back to your mistress and tell her I’m not setting anything on fire, okay?”
The shadow split into four pieces, each bipedal and man-sized. I continued to eye it dubiously. The shadow continued to dwindle, until four men in human disguises were standing there.
“Shoo,” I said.
“We’ve got our eyes on you,” one of them replied. He was either their leader, or the only one too brave to have any sense. “There will be none of your trickery this time.”
Footsteps approached down the street. “I have never resorted to trickery, and I resent the implication that I would,” I said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m meeting a friend.” I turned toward the sound, and was greeted by the sight of the Luidaeg, wearing her customary overalls and work boots. She was scowling. I waved. Her scowl deepened.
I glanced over my shoulder to see how the men by the wall were responding. Answer: they weren’t. They were looking at her the way they’d look at any random human. I turned back to the Luidaeg. “I don’t think they know who you are.”
“I didn’t think you’d be back here this soon,” she said. She glared at the men. “Really? You called me out here for this?”
“Well, those four, and however many are between us and your place,” I said. “If they don’t know who you are, I’m not sure why they’re staking out your apartment, but I didn’t feel like getting arrested without doing anything wrong.”