Rosemary and Rue
Page 73

“Hi, Luna,” I said, smiling tiredly.
She studied me, frowning, before she said, “You look terrible. What happened?”
“We sort of fell out of a cliff and into the ocean.”
“We?”
Connor winced. “It wasn’t exactly intentional . . .” he began.
Luna ignored him. “What were you doing?”
“Running,” I said.
“From what?”
“I don’t quite know,” I said. “Mostly from the noises in the hall.”
“You fell off a cliff because you were running from noises?”
“In Goldengreen,” Connor said, apparently deciding he needed to contribute. Bad idea. Luna turned on him, glaring, and he cringed. I would’ve expected him to know better.
“Were you hurt?” she asked, turning back to me.
“Not badly.” I gestured to my bleeding shoulder. “I got shot a few days ago, but that’s mostly been healed.”
“Shot and injured enough that you couldn’t manage to make a phone call. Oh, that’s not bad at all.” Looking around us to Manuel and Dare, who were trying not to be noticed, she added, “And you brought guests.”
Dare stared at her feet, ears turning a deep red. Manuel bobbed a quick bow and mumbled, “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”
Luna’s icy demeanor melted fractionally as she smiled. She’s never been good at staying mad, and she usually gets that way because she’s worried about someone—frequently me. I have a talent for panicking her. “It’s good to meet you, too.”
I poked Connor in the shoulder. “Put me down.” He gave me a dirty look, but wasn’t going to argue in front of Luna. I staggered as he lowered me to my feet, and Dare stepped forward, offering me her arm. I took it gratefully. “Hey, kid.”
Leaning toward me, she whispered, “She has three tails.”
“Yes,” I said, in a normal tone of voice. Whispering is rude, especially when you’re dealing with someone whose ears are sensitive enough to hear mice rustling in a field. “Her Grace is one of the Kitsune.” Luna smiled, and I smiled back.
“Kitsune?” Manuel said. “Fox fairy?”
“Exactly,” Luna agreed. “October, while introductions are all well and good, I hope you don’t think this is going to distract me from finding out what happened. My husband’s been unbearable with worry over you.”
I sighed. “All right, Luna. Is there a place where Manuel and Dare can go clean up, and maybe get something to eat?” The kids stared at me, but didn’t protest. Never question the boss in public.
Luna snapped her fingers. A mote of light appeared in front of her. “Follow this, and it will lead you to the kitchens,” she said. “Quentin will meet you there; he can help with anything you need.”
“But . . .” Dare said, glancing at me.
“Don’t worry, Dare; it’s safe here,” I said. “Safe is what Shadowed Hills does best.” That was true, as long as we didn’t mention the nasty, still-unsolved matter of Luna and Raysel disappearing for a decade. “Now shoo—it’s not nice to keep people waiting, and Quentin’s a friend of mine.” Dare started to protest, but Manuel shushed her and took her hand, pulling her along as he followed Luna’s guide.
Luna turned to me once they’d vanished around the corner, asking, “Devin’s?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“Long enough.” I shook my head. “They’re good kids. Manuel—the boy—has more common sense, but I think his sister’s close to breaking. They need to get out.”
“Were you perhaps thinking of bringing them here?”
I smiled sheepishly. “You do have a tradition of taking in strays.”
“Yes, I do,” she said, glancing at Connor. He stiffened, but said nothing. Luna dismissed him with a glance, turning back to me. “Is this an exchange?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
She sighed. “Do you really think I can’t smell him on you? But no matter. What happened?”
The question meant I could avoid the subject of Devin for a little while—but not, I knew, forever. If Luna was asking now, Sylvester would be asking later. “Look, can we go somewhere? This isn’t the most private place in the knowe.”
“Of course. Connor, bring her.” Luna turned, starting for a pale blue door that I hadn’t noticed before. Probably because it hadn’t been there. Knowes are like that.
Before I could say anything, Connor had scooped me off my feet again. “Hey!”
He grinned. “Just following orders.”
I sighed, deciding struggling would be more trouble than it was worth, and let him carry me through the door. There was an indoor garden on the other side, looking like nothing so much as the yard of an old English country house. Cobblestone paths wound around boulders draped with moss, while rioting roses and honeysuckle did their best to obscure delicate marble statuary. Luna led us to a space between two hedges, where the ground was carpeted with clover and buttercups. “Put her down, please.”
Connor lowered me gently into a seated position. I leaned back on my hands, digging my fingers into the clover. Luna knelt beside me.
“I’ve never seen this garden before,” I said.
“I planted it while you were away, as a memorial to my internment and your death. It has happier connotations now that we’ve both come home.” She fixed me with a stern eye. “You’re bleeding.”
“I tore my scar.” I pulled the fabric of my shirt aside to show the narrow fissure through the middle of the scar on my shoulder.
Luna frowned, reaching out to touch it with delicate fingers. “This is newer than it looks. And the wound was made with iron.”
“You’re right on both counts.”
“Whose idea was it to take you to the Luidaeg?”
I froze. “How can you . . . ?”
“I’ve seen her work a time or two. This was her, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.” Luna knew the Luidaeg? I suppose I should have known—they’ve both lived in the Bay Area for centuries—but somehow the idea was jarring. I couldn’t imagine what sort of a situation would have brought those two together.