She gave him a tentative smile. “I like your stories. All right. I promise not to make you stay here.”
Baba Yaga took us to a different door than the one we’d used to come in. This one was set in one of two walls belonging to the remnants of a hut that had seen better days. When she opened the door, I could see only the empty, overgrown patch that had once (presumably) been the hut’s interior, but stepping through it, with Adam beside me, landed us in the same little, nondescript room that we’d entered Underhill from.
It had been light in Underhill, but it was evening here.
“How much time has passed?” I asked urgently.
Baba Yaga shrugged. “As much as needed to.” She paused, then smiled at me. “Oh, yes. I forgot that you had some adventures in an Elphame court. Underhill is far more stable, and her ties to this world are stronger. Time passes differently, yes, but not all that differently. If you had stayed in Underhill for a year, you might find that you’d spent a year and a half. But with a short visit, generally you might lose or gain an hour or six, but mostly it’s not enough to matter.” She smiled again. “Generally.”
I caught my polite “thank you” before it left my tongue. “Good to know,” I said instead.
She looked at Aiden, who was frantically patting his clothing. “Here, boy,” she said, digging into a pocket. She pulled out the key and gave it to him. “It’s probably better if you have this now. Otherwise someone might say that I brought the artifact back and not you, hmm?” She looked at me. “Remember to dot your tees and cross your eyes”—which she did—“when dealing with the fae.” She smiled broadly. “Now then, we should go to Beauclaire’s office, I think. You can be sure that someone from the Council will be awaiting our arrival—and Beauclaire’s office is as good a target as any.”
Two someones were waiting for us—or at least, they were in Beauclaire’s office talking quietly. Goreu and Beauclaire seemed awfully startled by our entrance to have been actually waiting for us.
“That was quick,” said Goreu. “We didn’t expect you for another day at least.”
“How quick?” I asked.
“Twelve, maybe thirteen hours,” said Goreu.
“Huh,” I said. “We were there a day and a night and most of another day.” I’d gained back about twelve hours of the month that the Elphame court had stolen from me.
Adam’s clothes were folded and awaited him on a chair near the fireplace, which held a merry little fire. He walked over to the chair. I don’t think that anyone except me knew how sore and tired he was.
“What are you carrying?” Beauclaire asked me.
I’d used one of the dead fae’s shirts to collect what I could find of the walking stick. I laid it on the desk in front of Beauclaire and opened the shroud to reveal shards and splinters of gray wood, some silver bits, and the spearpoint, still stained with the Widow Queen’s blood.
Beauclaire touched the silver spearhead lightly and raised an eyebrow.
“The Widow Queen thought that she’d like an artifact all to herself,” I said.
Goreu growled. “I told you she acquiesced too easily. That she took the defeat of her people at the werewolves’ hands with too much grace.”
“You took care of her?” Beauclaire asked me, ignoring Goreu. He didn’t raise his eyebrows in disbelief, but it lurked in his tone.
“Aiden, Adam, and I,” I said. “But we had help. She couldn’t do great magic without Underhill’s consent, which she didn’t get. The walking stick . . . helped me, too. In the end, that’s what killed her. Without Baba Yaga’s help, Adam would have died.”
“Baba Yaga,” said Beauclaire with a frown. “What was . . .” He quit talking, but his frown didn’t go away. “Coyote’s daughter,” he said quietly. “He and Baba Yaga are akin, tricksters and unreliable champions of the underdog. I can see why she might be inclined to help you.”
He was talking about her like she wasn’t in the room.
“She didn’t have much use for the Widow Queen,” said Goreu.
I glanced discreetly around, but she wasn’t in the room. I started to say something, I don’t know what, when Adam drew on the pack bonds to do another quicker-than-usual change. The power flowed to him, I felt the edge of it. But more than power, I felt the joyous welcome that sang through the pack as they celebrated Adam’s return.
When I paid attention to the others again, Beauclaire was once more examining the remains of his father’s work. Aiden was fumbling in his pocket, and Goreu was watching me.
“Interesting,” he said. “I hadn’t realized how much magic resides within the werewolves. That magic produces their condition, yes, that I understood. That they themselves could produce and use magic . . . that I didn’t know.”
I gave him a faint smile. “Every day brings something new,” I said.
His smile was a fraction wider than mine had been, and his eyes were warm. “Not if you have seen as many every days as I have,” he murmured. Then he cleared his throat, and said, “You went to Underhill to retrieve a gift for my people.”
Aiden held out the key, which looked like nothing so much as a nail that someone had gotten creative with. Its consequence was not added to by the dirt on Aiden’s hand. I glanced down at my hands—they were dirty, too, and bloodstained.
Unprepossessing sight as the key made, Goreu and Beauclaire both focused on it intently.
“Oh yes,” said Beauclaire. “This, this is very good.”
Goreu smiled at Aiden. “Good choice,” he said. “But let’s not tell anyone it was a choice, shall we?”
“It was the only one I could find,” Aiden said, his voice ringing with truth. He didn’t say what exactly the “one” referred to. That’s the secret of dealing with people who can tell if you lie.
“Excellent,” said Goreu. He looked at me, then glanced over my shoulder, where Adam was just finishing dressing. “Our bargain is made, and you have fulfilled all that you promised to try. None shall gainsay.”
“It is done,” said Beauclaire, and magic surged, spread, and flowed outward.
“It was done before,” I pointed out. “When we signed the agreement.”
Beauclaire nodded. “Yes. But that you were successful in your endeavor gave additional power to the bargain. Not only have we promised to maintain neutrality in the Tri-Cities but the bargain will itself enforce the neutrality on any fae in your territory.” He smiled. “As defined in our contract.”
“I have a further bargain to propose,” said Adam. He came up behind me and rested his hand on my shoulder.
“Oh?” Goreu examined my husband’s face warily.
“I think you’ll be happy with it,” Adam said, a smile in his voice. I glanced over my shoulder and saw his dimple.
“Underhill,” Adam said, “has requested that Aiden visit her now and then. She misses him. For him to do that, you have to guarantee him safe passage from my territory, through yours, and through a door to Underhill.”
I watched the understanding spread across both Gray Lords’ faces, but it was Goreu who said, “A very interesting bargain you propose. We shall have to discuss it.”
“Underhill would be obliged if you agree.” Aiden said aloud what everyone was thinking. “If you’d like, I could put in a good word for those who have dealt true with me and my friends.”
“Aiden has had a very long time to learn how best to deal with Underhill,” I told them.
14
It was Pirate night at our house, and I had, once again, died an ignominious death. So I’d left the vicious cutthroats to their play and gone upstairs to make brownies with the orange oil I’d bought from Izzy’s mom. She was right, they tasted better with the oil than with the extract I’d used before.