“We’re going to get your brother back,” I said. It seemed like the only thing I could say. Arden kept glaring. I pushed on. “Right now, the Queen having your brother is a good thing.”

Her mismatched eyes widened. “What?”

“Hear me out.” I raised my hands to ward her off. “She’s not going to hurt him. He’s bait. She wants you to rush in there half-cocked, so she can arrest you on some bullshit charge. She arrested Dianda for sedition. There’s no reason for that, unless she’s planning to try and present you as a figurehead. The way I see it, if the Queen gets close enough to offer you a deal, she will: your brother for you publicly renouncing your father. Say you’re not a Windermere. Let her keep the throne, and ensure you have no valid claim to it in the future.”

“Fine,” Arden snapped. “If it gets my brother back, fine.”

“And if it gets Dianda convicted?”

“She’s a big girl. She can stand on her own two fins.”

“You have watched way too many Disney movies.” I stepped closer. “If you renounce your claim to the throne, Dianda stays in the Queen’s dungeon for however long it takes to set up a trial with the Undersea. I’ve been in that dungeon. The amount of iron in there will break her long before she sees the open sea again. Her family will never get her back. You want to do all this to save your brother. Think about what that does to Dean’s mom.”

Arden’s glare didn’t waver. “She made her choice.”

“I know. But what you don’t seem to understand is that you’re not making your choice. You’re making the choice the Queen is trying to force you into, and that isn’t going to be the right choice for you or your brother. Where are you going to go, Arden? With Dianda in custody, you can’t take Nolan and run to the Undersea. Silences is a puppet government. Angels has its own problems. You could head inland I guess, to Frozen Salt or Skytower, but you’d never be able to stop running. Your parents were assassinated. Do you honestly think the Queen of the Mists is above making sure Nolan doesn’t wake up and start this all over again?”

“This is your fault,” said Arden quietly.

“Maybe. Or maybe it was always going to happen. The Luidaeg sent me to find you. Someone would have done it eventually, if not me.” My stomach was starting to ache again. I had to fight to keep from reaching for the baggie of blood gems. “As long as she has Nolan but not you, he’s safe. This is the moment where you step up. This is when you fix things.”

She kept glaring for a few more seconds. Then she seemed to wilt before my eyes, her shoulders slumping, her chest collapsing as she stopped holding herself rigidly upright. “I was supposed to protect him,” she said.

“This is how you protect him,” I said. “You protect your family by making the world a better place for them to live. Not by running away.”

“I don’t know what to do,” said Arden. Madden whined and put his hand on her shoulder. She sighed, resting her cheek against it.

And I smiled.

“That’s okay, because I do,” I said. “Danny, can you drive Quentin back to the house?”

“Not if it means leavin’ you here,” he said.

“You won’t be,” I said. “I just don’t want Arden going out in public yet. She and I will meet you there.”

Arden blinked. “We will?”

“We will,” I said. “I have a plan.” It was a terrible plan. It was still a plan.

After a moment, Arden nodded. “All right,” she said. “What do we do?”

TWENTY-ONE

THE PASSAGE THROUGH ARDEN’S PORTAL was surprisingly easy, especially when compared to my recent trips through the Shadow Roads. One second, we were in the basement at Borderlands, and the next, we were standing amidst the riotous explosion of carefully overgrown flowers that was my backyard.

Arden frowned at the house. “I recognize this neighborhood.”

“We’re pretty close to the bookstore; you should feel right at home. Dolores Park is right over there.” I started up the path to the back door, grimacing as I walked. It seemed like I was stepping on every possible pebble and twig the yard had to offer, and my bare feet didn’t appreciate the experience. “I should warn you, I have roommates, and they’re a little . . . well, unique.”

“I live in a basement with my comatose brother, and one of my best friends thinks a good afternoon is spent chasing Frisbees around the dog park,” said Arden. “How unique can they be?”

“Just keep thinking that, okay?” I said, and unlocked the door, stepping into the kitchen. “May! Jazz! I’m home, and I brought company!”

“Toby!” May came hurtling into the kitchen, still holding the remote control in one hand. She ignored both Arden and the open door as she flung her arms around me, pulling me into a hug that was tighter than my lungs approved of. “You’re okay! Jazz said she didn’t see you when the flock mobbed the intersection, I was so worried, don’t do that to . . . me . . .” Her voice trailed off as she finally noticed Arden. “You meant actual company.”

“I did,” I said, and disentangled myself from May’s arms. “May, this is Arden. Arden, this is my housemate, May.”

“You must be Toby’s sister,” said Arden, shutting the front door.

“I’m her Fetch, actually,” said May, staring at Arden. “I . . . forgive me. You look a lot like someone I used to know.”

“Fetch?” said Arden, looking horrified.

“It’s a long story, and she’s not a death omen anymore,” I said. “May’s retired.” May also had the memories of every face she’d ever worn back when she was a night-haunt. The odds that she’d eaten someone who knew King Gilad were more than reasonably high, given how many fae died in the 1906 earthquake. I elbowed her before she could say anything. “Is Jazz here? I wanted to let her know how much I appreciated the assist.”

“Um, yeah, she’s here, but she had to go back to bed,” said May, shaking off whatever memory she’d been trying not to share. “Diurnal, remember?”

“I remember.” I started toward the dining room, gesturing for Arden to follow. “We’re just here to pick up supplies—and you—and then we have to get moving. The Queen has Arden’s brother. We need to get him back.”