The Winter Long
Page 59
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Then he took one more step, and the familiar scent of dogwood flowers and daffodil caressed my nose, bidding me to be calm. I relaxed. “Sylvester.”
“October,” he replied, sounding puzzled. “What are you doing here? You could have been hurt—”
“Your wards have never been set to keep me out, and coming through the woods was easier than using the mortal world, under the circumstances,” I said. “We used the Shadow Roads to get here.”
He blinked. “From San Francisco? That’s too dangerous.” His gaze flicked to Tybalt. “I would have trusted some of you to have more sense than that.”
“I’m going to ignore the part where you just implied that you don’t expect me to have common sense, and cut straight to asking if we can come in,” I said. “It’s cold out here, and I can’t really feel my feet anymore. I’d like to get warm and tell you why we came, if that’s okay.”
“Your timing is excellent,” he said. “I was just about to call you.”
I hesitated, looking at him. Finally, as my stomach sank, I asked, “Do you have company?”
“Yes,” he said. “It’s a miracle. October, Evening Winterrose is returned to us. She’s alive.”
I closed my eyes. Fuck. “You know,” I said, in as level a tone as I could manage, “that’s what I was afraid you were going to say.”
SIXTEEN
SYLVESTER WAS Daoine Sidhe. If the feeling of dreamy inevitability Quentin had described experiencing in Evening’s presence was an artifact of interacting with your First and not the result of some spell Evening had cast on King Aethlin and his Court, I needed to choose my next words carefully.
Naturally, I didn’t do that.
“She’s dangerous and you need to get her out of here,” I said bluntly.
“What?” Sylvester frowned. I looked back at him, trying not to shiver. “October, I’m afraid you may be confused. Evening Winterrose, former Countess of Goldengreen, your friend, is here. She’s alive. It’s a miracle.”
“It’s a miracle that nearly got us all killed a few hours ago,” I said. “She tried to take back Goldengreen. She closed the wards, and we got slapped off the Shadow Roads into the ocean. We could have died. One of Lily’s former handmaids did die when Evening started a fight inside the knowe. Are you following me yet? She’s dangerous.” I didn’t tell him she was the one who’d paid for the abduction of Luna and Rayseline. I was going to have to sooner or later, but this didn’t seem like the time. Not when Evening was already in the building. Either he’d call me a liar, or worse, he’d attack her—and I didn’t want to see what would happen if he went up against his own First.
Sylvester’s frown deepened. “This sounds like a terrible misunderstanding. All of you are shivering—you must be freezing.”
“I’m not,” said Quentin.
“Let’s get you inside and have Jin bring you some warm clothes,” said Sylvester, ignoring Quentin completely. “Once you’re dry, you can meet us in the receiving hall, and you and Evening can work out whatever issues you’re having. I understand her return is probably confusing for you, but, October, just think. This is a miracle. We have been blessed by the oak, ash, and thorn this day, for one of our own has resumed her dancing.”
I glanced at Tybalt, who answered me with a small shake of his head. Whatever we did next was my call. Swell. I love being the person who decides whether or not we let the potential for dry socks lead us to our certain doom. “Oh, goodie,” I said, and stepped past Sylvester, through the open door into the knowe.
Shadowed Hills has always been famed for its roses. Luna’s mourning had turned the grounds to winter outside the doors. The end result made the entire knowe smell of something very close to Evening’s magic, a mixture of roses and snow that put my nerves instantly on edge. I may be better at detecting individual magical signatures than most people, but even I can’t smell a single flower through an entire garden of identical blooms.
Tybalt, Quentin, and Raj followed me inside, with Sylvester bringing up the rear. I studied his face as he shut the door, trying to make my scrutiny as unobtrusive as ever. His eyes were somewhat unfocused, but that could have been a function of concern mingling with the twin surprises of having Evening show up in his knowe and the rest of us appear in his backyard.
Wait. “How did you know we were here?” I asked. “I didn’t call.”
“If you’ll wait here, I’ll get Jin for you,” he said, and walked away, leaving the four of us alone in the hall.
Raj was the first to say what we were all thinking: “I don’t like this, and I think we should leave as quickly as possible.”
“That will be difficult, since I am not presently capable of taking October through the shadows, and I doubt you are any more recovered than I,” said Tybalt, giving his nephew a hard look. Raj flushed with embarrassment and looked away. Tybalt turned to me. “I am afraid, however, that we are not safe here.”
“Yeah, I got that. I was expecting Simon. I wasn’t expecting this.” I looked at the closed door to the backyard and shivered. Going back out in the cold wasn’t a great idea, either. It might get us away from Evening, but it also might result in our freezing to death. We needed to find another option. “Hey, Quentin?”
“Yes?”
“Is there a route through the servants’ halls from here to Sir Etienne’s quarters?” When all else fails, get someone else involved.
Quentin frowned, turning to look at the smooth hardwood walls around us. There were no visible doorways or tricks in the molding. He was silent for long enough that I was about to say we needed to move when relief washed over his expression and he walked forward three steps, tapping a complicated pattern on a perfectly normal patch of wall . . . which promptly slid open, revealing one of the narrow servants’ halls that riddled Shadowed Hills like worms eating through an apple.
“This way,” he said.
“You heard him,” I said. “Let’s move.”
I waited for Tybalt and Raj to follow Quentin through the opening before I turned and pulled the back door open, wedging it in place with a chunk of hard-packed snow. By the time Sylvester returned, with or without Jin, the hallway would be empty again, and the wind blowing outside would hopefully confuse our footprints enough to make it hard to tell whether or not we had actually fled the knowe.
“October,” he replied, sounding puzzled. “What are you doing here? You could have been hurt—”
“Your wards have never been set to keep me out, and coming through the woods was easier than using the mortal world, under the circumstances,” I said. “We used the Shadow Roads to get here.”
He blinked. “From San Francisco? That’s too dangerous.” His gaze flicked to Tybalt. “I would have trusted some of you to have more sense than that.”
“I’m going to ignore the part where you just implied that you don’t expect me to have common sense, and cut straight to asking if we can come in,” I said. “It’s cold out here, and I can’t really feel my feet anymore. I’d like to get warm and tell you why we came, if that’s okay.”
“Your timing is excellent,” he said. “I was just about to call you.”
I hesitated, looking at him. Finally, as my stomach sank, I asked, “Do you have company?”
“Yes,” he said. “It’s a miracle. October, Evening Winterrose is returned to us. She’s alive.”
I closed my eyes. Fuck. “You know,” I said, in as level a tone as I could manage, “that’s what I was afraid you were going to say.”
SIXTEEN
SYLVESTER WAS Daoine Sidhe. If the feeling of dreamy inevitability Quentin had described experiencing in Evening’s presence was an artifact of interacting with your First and not the result of some spell Evening had cast on King Aethlin and his Court, I needed to choose my next words carefully.
Naturally, I didn’t do that.
“She’s dangerous and you need to get her out of here,” I said bluntly.
“What?” Sylvester frowned. I looked back at him, trying not to shiver. “October, I’m afraid you may be confused. Evening Winterrose, former Countess of Goldengreen, your friend, is here. She’s alive. It’s a miracle.”
“It’s a miracle that nearly got us all killed a few hours ago,” I said. “She tried to take back Goldengreen. She closed the wards, and we got slapped off the Shadow Roads into the ocean. We could have died. One of Lily’s former handmaids did die when Evening started a fight inside the knowe. Are you following me yet? She’s dangerous.” I didn’t tell him she was the one who’d paid for the abduction of Luna and Rayseline. I was going to have to sooner or later, but this didn’t seem like the time. Not when Evening was already in the building. Either he’d call me a liar, or worse, he’d attack her—and I didn’t want to see what would happen if he went up against his own First.
Sylvester’s frown deepened. “This sounds like a terrible misunderstanding. All of you are shivering—you must be freezing.”
“I’m not,” said Quentin.
“Let’s get you inside and have Jin bring you some warm clothes,” said Sylvester, ignoring Quentin completely. “Once you’re dry, you can meet us in the receiving hall, and you and Evening can work out whatever issues you’re having. I understand her return is probably confusing for you, but, October, just think. This is a miracle. We have been blessed by the oak, ash, and thorn this day, for one of our own has resumed her dancing.”
I glanced at Tybalt, who answered me with a small shake of his head. Whatever we did next was my call. Swell. I love being the person who decides whether or not we let the potential for dry socks lead us to our certain doom. “Oh, goodie,” I said, and stepped past Sylvester, through the open door into the knowe.
Shadowed Hills has always been famed for its roses. Luna’s mourning had turned the grounds to winter outside the doors. The end result made the entire knowe smell of something very close to Evening’s magic, a mixture of roses and snow that put my nerves instantly on edge. I may be better at detecting individual magical signatures than most people, but even I can’t smell a single flower through an entire garden of identical blooms.
Tybalt, Quentin, and Raj followed me inside, with Sylvester bringing up the rear. I studied his face as he shut the door, trying to make my scrutiny as unobtrusive as ever. His eyes were somewhat unfocused, but that could have been a function of concern mingling with the twin surprises of having Evening show up in his knowe and the rest of us appear in his backyard.
Wait. “How did you know we were here?” I asked. “I didn’t call.”
“If you’ll wait here, I’ll get Jin for you,” he said, and walked away, leaving the four of us alone in the hall.
Raj was the first to say what we were all thinking: “I don’t like this, and I think we should leave as quickly as possible.”
“That will be difficult, since I am not presently capable of taking October through the shadows, and I doubt you are any more recovered than I,” said Tybalt, giving his nephew a hard look. Raj flushed with embarrassment and looked away. Tybalt turned to me. “I am afraid, however, that we are not safe here.”
“Yeah, I got that. I was expecting Simon. I wasn’t expecting this.” I looked at the closed door to the backyard and shivered. Going back out in the cold wasn’t a great idea, either. It might get us away from Evening, but it also might result in our freezing to death. We needed to find another option. “Hey, Quentin?”
“Yes?”
“Is there a route through the servants’ halls from here to Sir Etienne’s quarters?” When all else fails, get someone else involved.
Quentin frowned, turning to look at the smooth hardwood walls around us. There were no visible doorways or tricks in the molding. He was silent for long enough that I was about to say we needed to move when relief washed over his expression and he walked forward three steps, tapping a complicated pattern on a perfectly normal patch of wall . . . which promptly slid open, revealing one of the narrow servants’ halls that riddled Shadowed Hills like worms eating through an apple.
“This way,” he said.
“You heard him,” I said. “Let’s move.”
I waited for Tybalt and Raj to follow Quentin through the opening before I turned and pulled the back door open, wedging it in place with a chunk of hard-packed snow. By the time Sylvester returned, with or without Jin, the hallway would be empty again, and the wind blowing outside would hopefully confuse our footprints enough to make it hard to tell whether or not we had actually fled the knowe.
