Late Eclipses
Page 8

“Damn,” said May.
“Yeah,” I said. “Damn.”
“I mean damn.”
“I think she gets the point, May,” said Danny. One huge hand settled gently on my shoulder. “You okay?”
“I have no idea,” I said, resisting the urge to break into hysterical laughter. It seemed like the only suitable response to the situation. “She set me up.”
“Can’t you get out of it?” demanded May.
“I don’t think so.”
“That sucks.”
I sighed. “Tell me about it.”
“October!” Tybalt came shoving through the crowd toward us. There was no amusement or false mockery in his voice now. His face was composed, but his pupils were narrowed to hairline slits that telegraphed his agitation. “A word, if I may.”
“Tybalt? What’s wrong?” I stepped forward before remembering the way he’d kissed me. Danny and May clearly hadn’t forgotten, because they moved to flank me, both watching him carefully. “I thought your little show was so people wouldn’t think we were willing to be seen together in public. Or did I miss something?”
“Things have changed. We have to talk.” He grabbed my wrist, starting to pull me toward him. “Come with me as quietly as you can. I don’t think you fully understand what’s just happened.”
I froze, looking at his hand. “You might want to let go of me now.”
“Toby, you don’t—”
“See, if you don’t, I’m going to feel compelled to try breaking your fingers.” My voice was calm, belying the fact that my heart was beating way too fast. “I didn’t give you permission to touch me, especially not after your little ‘ploy’ earlier.”
“Please.” He squeezed my wrist before releasing it. He didn’t step back. Neither did I. “You need to come with me. This is a trap. You have to trust—”
A commotion spread through the crowd to our left, distracting us both at practically the same time. Tybalt stepped forward, half-shielding me from whatever was coming. “What’s going on?” asked May, sounding more interested than concerned.
Danny and Tybalt exchanged a glance, briefly united by dismay. My Fetch got my memories, but she didn’t get the instinct for trouble to go with them, and I didn’t know how far her newly-demonstrated ability to sense danger extended. Tybalt moved again, this time putting himself between May and the commotion. I shot him a grateful look, which he answered with a nod.
“Any idea what this is?” asked Danny.
“Not yet, but I’m really wishing I wasn’t unarmed right now,” I muttered. I was giving serious thought to grabbing May and heading for the door when Marcia—the quarter-blood changeling who served as a handmaid in the Tea Gardens—shoved her way through, followed by a Tylwyth Teg man in conservative, incongruously modern clothes. He looked exhausted.
“Toby!” Marcia wailed, almost knocking Tybalt over as she lunged to grab my arm. Her eyes were wide and glassy within their rings of faerie ointment. A necessary cosmetic, at least for Marcia; her blood’s too thin to let her see most of Faerie without it.
“Marcia?” I put my hand over hers. “What’s wrong?”
“You have to come,” she babbled. “You have to come right now, please—”
“What is it? Calm down and tell me.”
She froze, eyes filling with tears, and whispered, “It’s Lily. She’s sick, Toby, she’s really sick, and we don’t know what to do.”
The world came to a sudden crashing halt. “Lily’s sick?”
Lily was Marcia’s liege, the Lady of the Tea Gardens—and an Undine. The Undine are biologically weird, even for Faerie, since their bodies are made entirely of water. Water doesn’t understand illness. It can get polluted, but it can’t get sick. Which meant that if Marcia was right, something was terribly wrong.
“She’s sick, really sick. She didn’t know who I was, so I . . . ” Her voice dropped until it was barely audible. “Please come.”
“Of course I’ll come.” I hesitated, looking at the crowd around us. Many were staring openly, and those that weren’t were probably listening in. Dropping my voice, I asked, “Tybalt? What’s the Queen going to do if there’s a sudden exodus out of here?”
His eyes narrowed as he caught my meaning. “Nothing we, or the Tea Gardens, would be likely to enjoy.”
“Right,” I said. Fae don’t have paparazzi, but my elevation to the peerage was the news of the hour. If I left now, my destination might draw an unhealthy amount of attention, and the Tea Gardens were an independent fiefdom. The last thing they needed was the full focus of the Queen. With Lily out of commission, they’d have no way to stop the “proper nobility” from taking over. We needed a distraction. I glanced around our little group.
May provided a distraction just by existing, and Tybalt was more than capable of causing a public disturbance if he was given the right motivation. I dropped my voice even lower. “Danny, can you get May home?” He nodded curtly. “Okay. When things calm down, I’m going to need you to do that. In the meantime, you’re going to make sure nobody thinks to follow us to the Tea Gardens. Marcia, how did you get here?”
Our conspiratorial little knot must have looked odd from the outside, but the Tylwyth Teg who’d accompanied Marcia seemed to be taking it in stride. He answered for her, holding up what looked like a stubby handmade broom as he said, “We took the yarrow broom express.”
“Does it seat three?”
“What?” said May and Danny, almost in unison. Tybalt didn’t say anything. He just nodded, understanding spreading across his features. He didn’t look like he approved, but at least he understood. That would have to be good enough, for now.
“I think so,” said the Tylwyth Teg, looking bemused. “This may not be the best time for an introduction, but it seems polite. I’m Walther Davies.”
“Toby Daye, hi,” I said, and turned to Tybalt. “Ready to make a scene?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Do I have a choice?”
“Not really. To quote something someone said to me recently, in the interests of friendship, I hope you’ll forgive what I’m about to do.” I drew back my hand and slapped him across the face. The smack of flesh striking flesh echoed through the hall. Conversations stopped as people whipped around to stare at us. Raising my voice to something just below a shout, I snarled, “You asshole!”