Late Eclipses Page 74


“You can’t go alone,” said Connor, in a carefully nonoffensive, “Toby isn’t thinking things through again” tone. “Assuming you’re in your right mind—which you might not be after the last week—running in alone is begging for trouble.”

“I don’t even know why you think you’re going to find Oleander,” said Quentin. “Won’t she be hiding?”

“She’s cocky, and she wants me to think I’m going crazy,” I said. “She won’t be able to resist showing herself if I come looking.” It was so much easier to think without iron and poison clouding my mind, and with half a pot of coffee in my belly. I wasn’t sure what diner Tybalt had arranged to have raided, or whether they’d been paid, but the coffee was strong, and everything else was at least edible. That was all I cared about. “Besides, who said I was going alone?”

Connor frowned. “You said—”

“I said Tybalt couldn’t come, and I have good reason for that,” I said, trying not to let myself notice the hurt look on his face. He might see my logic. That wouldn’t make him like it. “Raj, you’re out, too. The Court of Cats is already too involved in this, and the last thing I want to do is give the Queen an excuse to start trouble.”

“She can try,” said Tybalt icily.

“I’ll go,” said Quentin.

“No, you won’t,” I said. Quentin added his own wounded look to the one Raj was already giving me. I finished my coffee before saying, “I need you here. The Queen might not connect a random foster with my escape, but Raysel will. Until we know whether she’s reported your disappearance to the Queen, we can’t risk it.”

“My parents will be so proud if I get kicked out of the Kingdom of the Mists,” deadpanned Quentin.

“Who, then?” asked Tybalt. His tone was quiet, and still cold. He knew what I was going to say, and I knew from the look on his face that he wasn’t happy about it.

I took a deep breath. “I’m taking Connor.” Connor looked startled, then pleased. “Even if everyone at Shadowed Hills is watching for the escaped felon, they’re not going to be watching for him. He knows the knowe as well as I do, if not better by this point, and most importantly, all the locks are keyed to him.”

“And if someone assumes his absence has been unwilling, rather than because he was a part of your rescue?” Tybalt narrowed his eyes, all but glaring at Connor. “There are those who will be happy to say he was forced, and use that as justification for harming you.”

“Yeah, but I’m not one of them,” said Connor. “People know Toby and I were close in the past. The courtiers in the Duchy also know that my wife’s been a little bit unhinged lately. They’re going to assume I ran to Roan Rathad after Toby was arrested, and Sylvester will support that.”

The two men glared at each other. Unexpectedly, Tybalt was the first to look away. “I don’t like this,” he muttered.

“You don’t have to.” I wiped my syrupy hands on a napkin and stood. “Connor, how did you get here?”

“I took the bus.” He grimaced as he rose to follow. “Not so helpful, huh?”

“Not unless we want to be the cavalry of public transportation.” I sighed. “There’s another option. Is there a phone around here?”

Quentin pulled a cellular phone from his pocket and offered it to me. “I don’t like this either,” he said, “but here.”

I took the phone, relaxing slightly as I saw the crest of Tamed Lightning etched into the plastic. Countess April O’Leary of Tamed Lightning is an ally, and more, she’s a techno-Dryad—something that may be completely unique in Faerie, and was only possible because of her adopted mother’s particular mix of Daoine Sidhe and Tylwyth Teg heritage. Her skill at adapting modern electronics to work in the Summerlands makes her the envy of every Gremlin in the Kingdom. If this was one of April’s phones, it was secure.

“Cool,” I said, flipping the phone open and dialing.

Danny picked up on the second ring. “McReady’s Taxi.”

“Danny? It’s me.”

“Toby!” His voice boomed through the phone loudly enough for everyone to hear. “Fuck’s sake, girly, I thought you were—” He cut himself off. “Never mind what I thought. You safe? You need me? Where are you—no, wait. Don’t tell me where you are if it’s not safe. When they said you’d escaped, I thought—”

“Danny!” I hated to interrupt, but I didn’t have time for him to calm down on his own. “Connor and I need a ride to Shadowed Hills. Are you available?”

“You, ah, sure that’s a good idea? What with the Queen and the sentence of death and everything? Not saying I won’t do it—pretty sure she’s gunning for me already, after the way I mouthed off at your trial—just it might not be the safest thing you could do.”

“I have to.”

“In that case, I’m yours. Just say where.”

“Great.” I cupped a hand over the receiver. “Tybalt? Where are we?”

He sighed, muttering, “I shouldn’t tell you,” before adding, in a normal tone, “The exit will place you at the corner of Derby and Telegraph.”

“Okay.” To the phone, I said, “Berkeley. Derby and Telegraph.”

“Be there in ten,” said Danny, and hung up.

I tossed Quentin his phone. “Come on, Connor. He’ll be here in ten minutes. You guys . . . just be safe. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” I spread my fingers, filling them with shadows, and almost lost hold again as my magic rose eagerly to answer. It was too fast; I didn’t know how to control it. Forcing myself to keep breathing, I wove the cut grass and copper strands into a human disguise, throwing it over myself and letting my hands unclench. It was easy; too easy.

“Your magic smells funny,” said Raj, bemused.

He was right. The copper was too sharp, like freshminted pennies. There’d be time to think about that later. Not letting myself hesitate, I turned, gesturing for Connor to follow. We almost made it before Tybalt caught up with us, grabbing my arm and spinning me to face him. I raised my eyes to his, barely aware of holding my breath.

“Come back to me,” he said. Then he let go, shoving me away as he turned and stalked back to the table. Quentin had his head down and his shoulders locked as he pretended to focus on his breakfast. Raj was staring after us, looking heartbroken. I looked at them. Then I shook my head, mouthed, “I’m sorry,” and kept going.

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