Ashes of Honor
Page 65

“Toby!” squawked Quentin. Li Qin said something in startled-sounding Chinese. Then both of them were next to me, working together to try to pull Tybalt off the floor.
Between the two of them, they were able to lever him off me. I scrambled out from under him, terrified that every move I made was just going to make things worse. He didn’t move. I took off my—his, it was his to begin with, and, oh, Maeve, he couldn’t die on me—took off my jacket and folded it into a pillow, sliding it under his head before fumbling with blood-sticky fingers for his pulse. It was there, but it was nowhere near strong enough for my liking.
“We need a healer,” I said, standing. “This isn’t going to be fixed with aspirin and gauze.”
Li Qin looked sick. “We have no healer. The closest we ever came was Yui, and she…”
“Died the same time January did, I know.” Tybalt wasn’t moving. The closest healer I knew of was Jin, at Shadowed Hills.
Shadowed Hills.
“I’m an idiot,” I said. “Quentin, give me your phone. Mine’s dead.” Quentin fished his phone out of his pocket and tossed it to me. I clicked it open, scrolling to the contacts. As I expected, Shadowed Hills was second on the list.
The phone only rang twice before Etienne picked up, beginning, “Shadowed Hi—”
“I need you to grab Jin and get to Tamed Lightning right now,” I interrupted. “It’s an emergency.”
Etienne hesitated. “October? I don’t…”
“Tybalt’s hurt! Don’t argue with me, just get over here.”
“I can’t run off with the Duke’s personal physician without better reason than a friend of yours being injured.”
“How about he got hurt because we were looking for your daughter, huh?” That wasn’t strictly true. For the moment, it was close enough. Etienne didn’t say anything, and so I pressed on, saying, “There’s no healer here. I can’t drive him to a place where he can get cared for. Duchess Riordan is one of the people who snatched Chelsea, and she has her right now. Now please, get Jin, and get over here.” I glanced at Tybalt. He was so still…“Please. We don’t have much time.”
“Tell Countess O’Leary to open the wards,” said Etienne. Then the line went dead.
I clicked Quentin’s phone shut, handing it back to him. April was nowhere to be seen. I cleared my throat and said, as calmly as I could manage, “April, I need you.”
There was a popping sound, accompanied by the strong smell of ozone, before she said, from behind me, “Yes?”
There was a time when that would have been enough to make me jump. How times have changed. “I need you to open an exception in the wards,” I said, turning to face her. “Sir Etienne is going to be teleporting in, accompanied by an Ellyllon healer. I apologize for inviting them without checking with you first, but it’s an emergency.”
“Ah,” said April. Her gaze went to Tybalt. She frowned. “Is he damaged?”
I nodded, trying to deny the sinking feeling in my chest. “I think he is, yeah,” I said. “Can you please open that exception?”
“Of course,” said April. “I do not want anyone else to leave the local network. We are too sparsely distributed.” Then she was gone, leaving the air to rush back into the place where she’d been standing.
I stayed where I was, eyes going to Tybalt. He hadn’t moved. There was a bloody fingerprint on his cheek that I recognized as my own, standing out in vivid red against the pallor of his skin. Mine. This was my fault. If it hadn’t been for me distracting him, Samson wouldn’t have decided Tybalt was neglecting his Court. Tybalt wouldn’t have been running through the shadows; he wouldn’t have been vulnerable to an attack. He got hurt because of me. This was mine, and I had to own it, just like I had to own what happened to Connor. This was my fault.
“October.” Li Qin touched my wrist. I whipped around so fast I almost hit her; the wind from my motion actually ruffled her hair. She looked at me impassively and said, in a low, firm, tone, “This is not your fault.”
“What—how did you—?”
“I’m not a mind reader, but I spent quite a few years married to the kind of woman who thinks the best way to adopt a daughter is to break the rules of nature. Jan took responsibility for everything that happened within a mile of where she was standing. In the end, I think that’s what killed her.” A flicker of sorrow crossed Li Qin’s face, only to be wiped away by sternness. “You don’t have much in common with her, and that’s for the best—she could never have done the work you do—but you share her fondness for taking blame. You didn’t do this.”
I took a breath, letting it slowly out before I said, “I guess we’ll see about that. I’ll let you know whether it’s my fault or not when we know whether or not he’s going to live.”
“He’s going to be okay,” said Quentin. “He has to. He’s Tybalt. You’d be all weird and irritating if he wasn’t around.”
“Weird and irritating?” I raised an eyebrow. “What gives you that idea?”
Quentin shrugged. “That’s already how you get when he isn’t around.”
The smell of cedar smoke and limes swirled through the air, saving me from needing to reply. I turned to see Jin stepping through a circle in the air, her gauzy mayfly’s wings buzzing anxiously until it looked like she might actually leave the ground from sheer nerves. It wasn’t going to happen—adult Ellyllon are too heavy to fly without using magic—but it was the sort of reflex that told me how little she enjoyed traveling via teleportation portal.
Etienne stepped through behind her, closing the portal with a wave of his hand.
“Where’s the—” Jin began, and stopped when she saw the state of my clothes, her eyes going wide.
Etienne was less restrained. “Maeve’s teeth, October, did you bleed to death and just not notice? You’ve got more blood outside than you have room for inside!”
“Hello to you, too,” I said, too relieved to get annoyed. “Jin…” I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything at all. I just stepped aside, pointing mutely toward Tybalt. He still wasn’t moving.