The Winter Long
Page 38

“Your mother,” said the Luidaeg. “She told you to beware the Lady of the Lake, but to be more afraid of Morgane. Do you remember?”
I blinked. “I do, but I don’t remember telling you.”
“Your lover was a Selkie; he told me quite a bit, after he died,” said the Luidaeg. “My name . . . my name is Antigone. But there was a time when they called me Viviane. When everything was swords, and stones, and so simple . . . your mother feared the wrong woman. I think I’m going to sleep now. I’ll trust you to survive what’s coming.”
“Wait—what?”
Tybalt’s hand closed on my shoulder. “‘Viviane’ was one of the names for the Lady of the Lake,” he said.
I stared at the Luidaeg. “You cannot drop this on me and go to sleep. Luidaeg? Luidaeg!”
She didn’t wake up.
ELEVEN
MY PHONE RANG. I stiffened, instinctively pulling away from the Luidaeg before I recognized the sound and pulled the phone from my pocket. “Hello?”
“I’m parked on the street,” said Quentin’s familiar voice. He sounded like he was scared out of his mind, which was only to be expected, given the circumstances. “Toby . . . the shadows that should be blurring the Luidaeg’s alley aren’t there. It’s like she dropped all her illusions.”
“She did,” I said. “Come on in. Make it quick, we’re not going to linger here long.”
“Okay,” he said, and hung up.
I lowered the phone. “Quentin’s here,” I said. “He says the normal defenses are down. I was sort of hoping he’d be smart and go straight for Arden instead of following instructions and coming here.”
Tybalt chuckled. There was an edge of strain to his voice, but it was fading; I had saved the Luidaeg without killing myself in the process. He could stop worrying about me for a few minutes, at least until he figured out how much blood I’d lost. As long as I didn’t try to stand up ever again, he’d never know. “He simply puts great stock in your ability to survive even the most ridiculous of situations. To be fair, you have yet to prove him wrong. Also to be fair, it is not as if seeking the assistance of the Queen is something you have encouraged him to do. It will take some time to adapt to the idea of the monarchy as an ally, not an enemy.”
“Whose side are you on, anyway?” I demanded peevishly. I recognized my own relief, spreading through me and trying to make me giddy. I pushed it aside—we weren’t out of the woods yet. We still didn’t know who had attacked the Luidaeg, or whether they were coming back. Raising my voice, I called, “We’re in the bedroom, Quentin. Did you crash the car?”
“I’m a better driver than that,” my squire protested, steps coming faster as he hurried down the hall to the open bedroom door. “Did you see the apartment? The place is trashed. Where’s—” He stepped inside and stopped, going statue-still as he took in the scene in front of him. Finally, quietly, he said, “Oh.”
“Yeah, ‘oh,’” I agreed. “She was almost dead when we got here.” No need to tell him that “almost” was understating the case. “I managed to bring her back, but she’s still in pretty bad shape, and she’s not waking up. We need to move her someplace safe before whoever came here and did this to her realizes that they need to finish the job.”
Quentin blinked, sky-colored eyes widening. “You think they’d know?”
“Whoever this was knew when the Luidaeg answered one question she shouldn’t have answered,” I said grimly. “They’re going to know she’s not dead. We need to move her before they come back. The only question is where.”
“What of the Library?” asked Tybalt. “The place has its own defenses, and could no doubt protect her, if the lady Librarian was willing to let her inside.”
“I don’t think Mags would agree, and I don’t know that the Luidaeg could handle any of the available Roads, or that we’d be able to carry her,” I said. I hesitated before I continued, “Shadowed Hills is out—”
“For more reasons than I can list in a day,” said Tybalt.
“—and so is my mother’s tower. Whoever attacked the Luidaeg has Simon under a geas, and the tower recognizes him as family. He could just walk right in and take her.”
“Maybe Patrick and Dianda could let her stay with them?” asked Quentin. “She’s the sea witch. Unless her attacker was from the Undersea, she might be safe there.”
“I think there’s a better option,” I said, looking at Tybalt.
His eyes widened minutely and then narrowed again, turning considering. Finally, slowly, he said, “You do not understand the scope of what you are asking me.”
“Actually, I do,” I said. “That’s why I’m asking. A place where no one can go without permission, not even the Firstborn, because Oberon told them they weren’t allowed. A place we can reach and our enemies can’t. A safe place.”
“A place for things that have been lost,” said Tybalt slowly.
“Wait,” said Quentin, as the penny finally dropped. “Are you talking about taking her to the Court of Cats? She can’t hold her breath on the Shadow Roads if she’s unconscious!”
“So we move her to a place where the Court is closer to the surface.” I looked to Tybalt. “Will you do this?”
Silence. Then, finally: “Yes. But we must hurry.”
I smiled. I couldn’t help myself. “Okay, you two. Help me get her to the car.” Thankfully, when I stood, my legs agreed to support my weight, and my headache was a dull enough roar that I could walk without crying. I was messed up, but I would heal. Hopefully.
Tybalt seemed to know that something was wrong, but since he didn’t ask me directly, I didn’t have to answer him. It was relatively easy for the three of us working together to carry her down the junk-choked hallway to the gaping wound of the door, and out into the cool afternoon air. I carried her feet this time, while Tybalt held her head and arms and Quentin walked near her hip, helping to keep her body from knocking against anything. Once again, Tybalt walked backward, leading the way.
My car was parked to fill the mouth of the alley. I don’t think I’d ever been happier to see it, especially not after Quentin ran ahead, peered into the backseat, and called, “It’s clear.”