The Winter Long
Page 42

 Seanan McGuire

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Side by side, Tybalt and I made our way from the kitchen to the hall. I gestured for him to check the living room while I started up the stairs, drawing my knife from my belt and holding it close to my hip. It wouldn’t do me any good if Simon had hidden a monster in the upstairs closet, but holding it helped focus me a little, and I needed all the help that I could get.
This is your fault, I thought. Quentin and Tybalt are in danger because of you. If you didn’t let them stay around, they wouldn’t be in harm’s way. This is on you.
The thought was unfair, and I pushed it aside almost as quickly as it formed. Maybe it was true, but if it weren’t for me, Tybalt would still be lonely, Quentin would still be trapped in the spiral of pureblood superiority, and May wouldn’t even exist. She’d be a night-haunt named “Mai,” scavenging for the bodies of Faerie’s dead, surfing from identity to identity without ever truly owning any of them. Jazz might have been safer if not for me, since it was her association with May that kept putting her in harm’s way, but I somehow doubted she’d see things that way.
The upstairs hall was dark. I didn’t turn the lights on, choosing instead to pause on the landing and sniff the air, looking for traces of blood or magic. I didn’t find any, and so I started moving again, checking the rooms one by one for signs of a struggle or a spell. Light footfalls behind me signaled Tybalt’s return, and I kept walking, feeling safer now that I knew I wasn’t alone.
The upstairs was clean. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, bringing up the entry for May. Still staring at her room, I raised it to my ear. Pick up, I thought. Come on, May, pick up. Just this once, do something because I want you to do it. Pick up the phone.
There was a click, and then May demanded, “Maeve’s tits, October, what is it now? Please tell me you didn’t do something you can’t actually bounce back from, because I am so not up for pulling your bacon out of the fire right now.”
I bit back a gale of completely inappropriate laughter. Oh, yeah, my nerves were fried. “Simon was on the back porch when we got home,” I said. “I’m sorry to wake you, but you needed to know that the house is officially off limits until we catch him.”
“I was already planning to stay at Queen Windermere’s Hotel and Day Spa for the foreseeable future, especially after Quentin’s cute little status update,” said May without pause. Then she took a whistling breath and said, “He was there? At our house? Again?”
“He was,” I said grimly. “Quentin brought you up to speed on the situation?” I was willing to let Simon go out into the world thinking that the Luidaeg was truly dead—it was better if we kept the knowledge of her survival close to our chests—but I wouldn’t do that to May.
“He did, and sweet Titania, that’s terrifying,” said May. “Are you safe?”
“I honestly don’t know,” I said. “I’m just really, really glad you’re in Muir Woods.”
May actually laughed. “What a difference a monarch makes, huh? Six months ago you’d have gone for elective facial piercings before you went to see the Queen, and now you’re happy to pawn me and Jazz off on her protection.”
“It’s amazing how quickly I can adapt to having someone on the throne who isn’t actively trying to get me killed,” I said. “Just stay safe, all right?”
“You know, I don’t like that the pattern has become ‘danger arises, get May the hell away from it,’” she said. “I want to help.”
I hesitated before saying, “Maybe you can. This geas—it’s on Simon and the Luidaeg, and the Luidaeg confirmed that the person who cast it is someone I know. We already know that whoever did it is still alive, or the geas wouldn’t be active. So who knows me, Simon, and the Luidaeg, and has the power to bind one of the Firstborn? I’ve been trying to figure it out all day, and I’m coming up empty.”
“Not quite empty,” said Tybalt, from behind me. “You still have to consider the possibility your mother is involved with this somehow.”
“He’s right,” said May wearily. “Tell kitty-boy I can hear him, and that he has a damn good point. Amandine is Firstborn, and she knows all three of the people who have to be checked off before someone makes the list. She’s been sort of cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs for a while now, so there’s an absolute chance that she could have done this.”
“Why?” I asked. “What would she have to gain? And how could she have hurt the Luidaeg the way she did? Mom’s not a fighter. She can mess with the balance of someone’s blood, and yeah, that hurts like hell, but there’s nothing in the Luidaeg for her to catch hold of.”
“Maybe she didn’t attack the Luidaeg,” said May. “Maybe she hired or compelled someone else to do it, or maybe this isn’t her at all. I’m just saying we can’t cross her off the list because she’s your mother. If anything, that puts her closer to this than almost anybody else.”
I ran one hand back through my hair, wincing as my fingers snagged on several poorly placed knots. “Right. So you and Jazz will stay where you are, and stay safe. I’ll take Tybalt and Quentin and go back to Mom’s tower. It looks like I need to verify, once and for all, whether she’s behind all of this.”
“And if she is?” asked May. “Because let’s face it, Toby, this is a pretty weak plan.”
“It’s what I’ve got.” I dropped my hand. “If Mom is there, I arrest her for compelling the kidnapping of Luna and Rayseline Torquill, and I take her before the Queen to be held accountable for her crimes.” Yes, I’d allowed Simon to walk away, even though he was the one who’d actually kidnapped them. I was going to be sorry about that later, I was sure. And yet the geas—which genuinely existed, since it also bound the Luidaeg, although I wasn’t sure why Mom would have needed to bind him—had left him with little choice about his actions. Under those circumstances, it made sense to bring the mastermind to justice first, find out how much free will the underlings really had, and take care of things in the proper order.
May laughed unsteadily. “Sounds like you’re going to have a fun night.”
“I always do,” I said. “Open roads.”
“Kind fires, and Toby . . . be careful.” She hung up, presumably to keep me from saying anything she didn’t want to hear. I could understand the sentiment.