Late Eclipses
Page 11

“Is . . . ” Marcia hesitated, biting her lip before continuing, “Is Lily going to . . . ?”
“I don’t know.” As reassurances go, it wasn’t my best. I couldn’t get the image of Lily’s water-dark eyes out of my head. “I wish I did.”
She looked stricken. I couldn’t blame her. Faerie isn’t kind to changelings. We carve out places for ourselves on the borders of fae society, but they’re never stable and rarely safe. People like Devin, who saw changeling kids as a resource to exploit, are a lot more common than people like Lily, who opened her doors to the weakest among us and never asked for anything but loyalty. She offered protection, kindness, and a place to belong. Some of her subjects never had any of those things before.
Walther put an arm around Marcia’s shoulders, asking, “What’s going to happen if she doesn’t get better?”
“I don’t know,” I repeated. That wasn’t true. I had some idea of what would happen. An entire fiefdom of unaligned, unprotected changelings? At best, they’d find predators like Devin. At worst . . .
“Most of us don’t have anywhere else to go.” Marcia leaned into Walther’s arm. “My family doesn’t even acknowledge me.”
That wasn’t surprising. I still winced. “Lily won’t die, Marcia. I won’t let her.”
Marcia bit her lip again. “Do you promise?”
“I can’t do that until I know what’s going on, but I promise to try.” I hesitated. “Is there a phone around here?”
“Use mine,” said Walther, digging a hand into his pocket long enough to pull out a cellular phone smaller than a deck of cards. He tossed it to me.
“May keeps trying to make me get one of these things,” I said, wrinkling my nose and flipping the phone open. “It’s like nobody believes in privacy anymore.”
“Convenience wins,” said Walther. “Who are you calling?”
“Hopefully? Help.” I studied the display before dialing backward from zero to one, hitting the pound key three times, and pressing “talk.” The phone hissed dully. That was a good sign. I raised it to my ear, chanting, “Red Rover, Red Rover, send the cranky sea witch who’s probably gonna kill me one day on over.”
Marcia gasped. Walther just looked perplexed. Everyone’s heard of the Luidaeg, but almost no one knows her, and most people definitely don’t have her home phone number. Walther hadn’t been in town long enough to hear about my “special” relationship with a woman any sane person would stay the hell away from. He’d learn.
My magic responded to the request by rising around me, filling my mouth with the taste of copper and fresh-cut grass. The hissing cut out, replaced by the sound of distant static. I sighed, letting my shoulders relax. The Luidaeg doesn’t technically have phone service, and that can make it hard to get a connection. The special effects were a sign that things were going right.
The static stopped abruptly. The spell I’d been trying to cast shattered around me as the Luidaeg snarled, “Who is it?”
She sounded pissed. Nothing new there; the Luidaeg usually sounds pissed. Before she could hang up, I said quickly, “Luidaeg, it’s me.”
“Toby?” There was a faint edge of hysteria in her voice. That worried me. Anything that could actually upset the Luidaeg was something I wanted to avoid. “What the hell do you want?”
“I need your help.”
“Do you, now? Well, how about you deal with your own shit for once?”
Arguing with the Luidaeg is stupid bordering on suicidal, but I didn’t have time to try diplomacy. “I need you. Lily’s sick.”
She paused. “Sick, how? Is that the only reason you’re calling, or is the world ending, too?”
“Nobody’s told me if it is,” I said. “She can’t focus, she’s forgetting things, and she doesn’t look right. It’s like she can’t remember what shape she’s supposed to be.”
“If she’s sick, she can’t remember. Undine are only material because they concentrate.” Something in the background shattered. “Have you checked her waters?”
I looked toward Walther and said, “They’ve been checked magically and mundanely. They’re clean.”
“What about her pearl?”
I hesitated. “Her what?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” The Luidaeg sounded more tired than annoyed. “Undine have pearls that serve them as physical anchors. If they’re damaged, the Undine is damaged. Do you know where Lily’s pearl is hidden? Have you checked it?”
“No, I—”
“Ask her, and get those waters tested again. That’s all I can give you.” She sighed. “There are things you can’t fix, Toby. Maybe it’s time you learned that.”
“Luidaeg, please. This is serious.”
“It’s always serious to heroes, but they can’t save everyone. Just ask my father.” She laughed bitterly. “There’s nothing else I can do for you, or for her. I’m in the middle of something.” There was another crash, and the sound of splintering wood.
I hesitated. “Is everything okay?”
That seemed to be the wrong thing to say. “There’s nothing here that needs a hero,” she snapped. “I wish I were the answer to all your problems, but I’m not. Now leave me alone. I have work to do.” She slammed the receiver down. I heard plastic crack before the connection went dead.
I lowered Walther’s phone, vaguely aware that my fingers were clenched tight enough that my knuckles had gone white. “She hung up on me.”
“The sea witch hung up on you?” asked Marcia, sounding awed.
“Wait—are you saying that was—?” Walther gaped at me.
I tossed him back his phone, starting to massage my aching fingers. “Yes, it was, and yes, she did. I guess she’s not having a good night. Do either of you know where Lily keeps her pearl?”
“Her what?” asked Marcia.
Walther kept gaping. “Why does the sea witch want to know where Lily keeps her pearl?”
“Can we just accept that I know the Luidaeg and move on?” I asked. “She says Lily’s pearl being damaged might explain why she’s so sick. She also says we need to test the water again.”