One Salt Sea
Page 21
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“That’s assuming your Queen didn’t kidnap them herself.”
I didn’t miss his choice of pronouns. The Undersea is technically part of the system of Courts and Kingdoms established by Oberon, but “technically” is a big word. There’s a King somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. If Saltmist wanted to claim to belong to his Kingdom instead of to the Mists, nobody could really stop them. “I don’t think she did, and anyway, it’s not a good thing to say,” I said carefully. “She was ready to banish me for suggesting it.”
“Yeah, well, the Queen’s not here now, and I don’t trust her.”
“There’s something we have in common; neither do I. I get a little wary when people try to kill me.”
“And I get a little pissed when people try to kill either one of us.” He sighed. “Toby, you know what’s going to happen if things get bad. I—”
“Do you really want to talk about that right now?”
“No.”
“Did you kidnap the Lorden kids?”
“What? No!”
“Then calm down until we get to the Luidaeg’s. We’re going to stop all this from happening, and then it won’t matter.” I flashed him a smile. “That’s the beauty of the future. We get to change it. Okay?”
“Okay.” Connor put his hand on my knee. I put my own hand over it, squeezing gently before returning my focus to staying on the road. It was only eight-thirty—were we really only at the Queen’s Court for an hour? It’s amazing how quickly things can fall apart—and there was too much traffic for me to safely get distracted.
The streets cleared once we moved into the less-reputable stretch of the waterfront, and the smell of the docks slipped in through the vents, filling the car with a familiar mix of fish and sweet decay. Weird as it seems, I found myself relaxing. The Luidaeg was one of Faerie’s monsters, but she was also a friend, and I trusted her.
The Luidaeg’s neighborhood looks like it might topple into the ocean at any moment. The people who live there tend to be the poorest of the poor, the ones who don’t have any other choice. And it’s probably one of the safest places in the city. I looked it up in the police department records once, after using a quick don’t-look-here to keep the police from realizing I wasn’t supposed to be there. Sure, you’ll find drug dealers in the shadows and hookers on the street corners, but no one ever seems to actually get hurt. All the crimes are victimless ones, and even the poorest children don’t go to bed hungry. There’s something to be said for living in the haunt of a fabulous monster.
I parked a block away from her apartment, taking the arrow from Connor before I got out of the car. He scanned the deserted street as he stood. “Um, Toby? Are we in the right place?”
“Not what you expected?”
“From the sea witch? Not really.” Connor shook his head. “I don’t know what I expected. But it wasn’t this.”
Oberon preserve me from purebloods and their expectations. “Just follow my lead, and try not to touch anything.”
I led him down the alley to the Luidaeg’s door, a flat rectangle of rotting wood set in a crumbling frame. The door swung open before I could knock, revealing the Luidaeg herself. Connor froze. That’s a natural response when confronted by the sea witch.
Good thing all my natural responses were burned out years ago. “Hey,” I said.
“What in my mother’s name took you so long?” she snarled, stepping out of the way as she gestured me briskly inside. “I expected you twenty minutes ago.”
“Traffic,” I said. The shell stopped radiating cold as soon as I was over her threshold. I rubbed my thigh through the fabric of my dress, wincing a little. I’d be lucky if I didn’t have frostbite.
As if she could read my mind—there was a terrifying thought—the Luidaeg said, “Be grateful. It could have been a lot worse.”
“I am,” I said. I meant it, too. The Luidaeg could probably have blown my brains out with the thing, if she’d wanted to.
She swung her attention to Connor. “Selkie,” she half-said, half-spat.
He swallowed, hard. “Ma’am.”
“Oh, for Mom’s sake.” The Luidaeg rolled her eyes. “I don’t have time for this. Get in here.” He stepped inside, and she slammed the door behind him, casting the hall into darkness. “Now come on.” She turned and strode down the hall. Not being entirely stupid, I followed. Connor followed me.
The carpet crackled underfoot, bits of debris catching on my heels. I don’t know what color the carpet was when the Luidaeg moved in, and she keeps the lights low enough that even the improvements to my vision won’t let me see what color it is now. There are some small mercies in this world. The crackling was accompanied by the sound of insects scuttling for cover. The cockroaches clever and quick enough to survive in the Luidaeg’s presence breed prodigiously; she crushes or eats the dumb ones. If an insect uprising ever displaces the mammals as the titular head of the food chain, I expect it to start at her place.
The Luidaeg’s living room is usually slightly better than the hall, in that the layers of junk covering the floor are shallower, and there are windows, which keeps the mold from getting more than a light foothold on the walls and furniture. The Luidaeg was standing at the center of the room, arms crossed, waiting. “Well?” she demanded. “What happened?”
“How do you know something happened?”
“You’re here, which means the shell reacted. That means something happened. What was it?”
I took a breath. “Somebody decided to take a shot at Patrick Lorden.”
“Oh, rot and wreck.” The Luidaeg took a step back, sitting heavily on the couch. Her eyes were wide. That was the scariest thing I’d seen all evening. “Is he dead?”
“No—I managed to knock him out of the way before the shot was fired.” I held up the arrow. “I dug this out of the floor.”
“Give it to me.” It wasn’t a request. I stepped forward, dropping the arrow into her outstretched hand. She peeled away Patrick’s vest, first sniffing the wood, then licking the feathers fletching the end. Making a sour face, she offered it back. “It’s just elf-shot. It’s safe to touch, as long as you don’t do anything stupid, like cutting yourself.”
I didn’t miss his choice of pronouns. The Undersea is technically part of the system of Courts and Kingdoms established by Oberon, but “technically” is a big word. There’s a King somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. If Saltmist wanted to claim to belong to his Kingdom instead of to the Mists, nobody could really stop them. “I don’t think she did, and anyway, it’s not a good thing to say,” I said carefully. “She was ready to banish me for suggesting it.”
“Yeah, well, the Queen’s not here now, and I don’t trust her.”
“There’s something we have in common; neither do I. I get a little wary when people try to kill me.”
“And I get a little pissed when people try to kill either one of us.” He sighed. “Toby, you know what’s going to happen if things get bad. I—”
“Do you really want to talk about that right now?”
“No.”
“Did you kidnap the Lorden kids?”
“What? No!”
“Then calm down until we get to the Luidaeg’s. We’re going to stop all this from happening, and then it won’t matter.” I flashed him a smile. “That’s the beauty of the future. We get to change it. Okay?”
“Okay.” Connor put his hand on my knee. I put my own hand over it, squeezing gently before returning my focus to staying on the road. It was only eight-thirty—were we really only at the Queen’s Court for an hour? It’s amazing how quickly things can fall apart—and there was too much traffic for me to safely get distracted.
The streets cleared once we moved into the less-reputable stretch of the waterfront, and the smell of the docks slipped in through the vents, filling the car with a familiar mix of fish and sweet decay. Weird as it seems, I found myself relaxing. The Luidaeg was one of Faerie’s monsters, but she was also a friend, and I trusted her.
The Luidaeg’s neighborhood looks like it might topple into the ocean at any moment. The people who live there tend to be the poorest of the poor, the ones who don’t have any other choice. And it’s probably one of the safest places in the city. I looked it up in the police department records once, after using a quick don’t-look-here to keep the police from realizing I wasn’t supposed to be there. Sure, you’ll find drug dealers in the shadows and hookers on the street corners, but no one ever seems to actually get hurt. All the crimes are victimless ones, and even the poorest children don’t go to bed hungry. There’s something to be said for living in the haunt of a fabulous monster.
I parked a block away from her apartment, taking the arrow from Connor before I got out of the car. He scanned the deserted street as he stood. “Um, Toby? Are we in the right place?”
“Not what you expected?”
“From the sea witch? Not really.” Connor shook his head. “I don’t know what I expected. But it wasn’t this.”
Oberon preserve me from purebloods and their expectations. “Just follow my lead, and try not to touch anything.”
I led him down the alley to the Luidaeg’s door, a flat rectangle of rotting wood set in a crumbling frame. The door swung open before I could knock, revealing the Luidaeg herself. Connor froze. That’s a natural response when confronted by the sea witch.
Good thing all my natural responses were burned out years ago. “Hey,” I said.
“What in my mother’s name took you so long?” she snarled, stepping out of the way as she gestured me briskly inside. “I expected you twenty minutes ago.”
“Traffic,” I said. The shell stopped radiating cold as soon as I was over her threshold. I rubbed my thigh through the fabric of my dress, wincing a little. I’d be lucky if I didn’t have frostbite.
As if she could read my mind—there was a terrifying thought—the Luidaeg said, “Be grateful. It could have been a lot worse.”
“I am,” I said. I meant it, too. The Luidaeg could probably have blown my brains out with the thing, if she’d wanted to.
She swung her attention to Connor. “Selkie,” she half-said, half-spat.
He swallowed, hard. “Ma’am.”
“Oh, for Mom’s sake.” The Luidaeg rolled her eyes. “I don’t have time for this. Get in here.” He stepped inside, and she slammed the door behind him, casting the hall into darkness. “Now come on.” She turned and strode down the hall. Not being entirely stupid, I followed. Connor followed me.
The carpet crackled underfoot, bits of debris catching on my heels. I don’t know what color the carpet was when the Luidaeg moved in, and she keeps the lights low enough that even the improvements to my vision won’t let me see what color it is now. There are some small mercies in this world. The crackling was accompanied by the sound of insects scuttling for cover. The cockroaches clever and quick enough to survive in the Luidaeg’s presence breed prodigiously; she crushes or eats the dumb ones. If an insect uprising ever displaces the mammals as the titular head of the food chain, I expect it to start at her place.
The Luidaeg’s living room is usually slightly better than the hall, in that the layers of junk covering the floor are shallower, and there are windows, which keeps the mold from getting more than a light foothold on the walls and furniture. The Luidaeg was standing at the center of the room, arms crossed, waiting. “Well?” she demanded. “What happened?”
“How do you know something happened?”
“You’re here, which means the shell reacted. That means something happened. What was it?”
I took a breath. “Somebody decided to take a shot at Patrick Lorden.”
“Oh, rot and wreck.” The Luidaeg took a step back, sitting heavily on the couch. Her eyes were wide. That was the scariest thing I’d seen all evening. “Is he dead?”
“No—I managed to knock him out of the way before the shot was fired.” I held up the arrow. “I dug this out of the floor.”
“Give it to me.” It wasn’t a request. I stepped forward, dropping the arrow into her outstretched hand. She peeled away Patrick’s vest, first sniffing the wood, then licking the feathers fletching the end. Making a sour face, she offered it back. “It’s just elf-shot. It’s safe to touch, as long as you don’t do anything stupid, like cutting yourself.”
