Late Eclipses

ELEVEN

WE WALKED IN AN UNEASY FORMATION, Etienne beside me, Quentin slightly behind, and Garm a few feet ahead, occasionally casting glances back at us. I did my best not to glare at him. It wasn’t easy.

Etienne cleared his throat to catch my attention before nodding toward the bundle under my arm. “You said you were being paranoid. About what, precisely?”

“Luna was drinking from this before she fell. If Oleander is involved, she probably poisoned Luna’s drink, and I don’t want to risk anyone coming in contact with the residue. Besides, this may protect the fingerprints.” The fabric would blur some of the prints, but hopefully not all of them; I just had to hope a few would be preserved to a reasonable degree. There’s no database of fae fingerprints, but some investigative techniques have become second nature after years of mortal-world cases.

“Mortal methods,” he said, amused respect tinged with unavoidable worry.

“They’ve worked pretty well for me so far,” I said, and shrugged. Mortal methods let me find the Queen’s knowe. That got me knighted. It also got her started on hating me. The jury’s still out on whether that was a fair exchange.

“I don’t understand why we can’t do this without her,” said Garm, not turning. “This all seems a little too convenient.”

“Garm,” said Etienne, sharply. “My apologies, October. I’ll have words with him later.”

I was starting to put two and two together. “How long ago did he graduate from being your squire?”

“Just after the turn of the year,” Etienne replied. Raising his voice a bit, he added, “Sometimes I wonder about the wisdom of it.”

Garm hunched his shoulders and said nothing.

The fact that Etienne had graduated his squire might mean he was getting ready to take a new one. I glanced at Quentin. He was staring resolutely ahead as he walked, trying to look like he wasn’t listening to our conversation. He was almost succeeding.

Then we reached the place where Luna fell, and all thoughts of squires and knighthoods dropped away.

Grianne was sitting on the railing, with her Merry Dancers spinning around her. Her face was serene as ever, but her skin was glowing a pale green only slightly dimmer than her Merry Dancers, betraying her displeasure. Candela only light up under stress. Several more guards stood along the terrace, protecting the scene from intruders while hopelessly contaminating any evidence. Sometimes the fae ignorance of basic crime scene protocol makes me want to cry.

That wasn’t what made my stomach clench; that honor was reserved for the doors standing open, revealing an empty ballroom, and for Connor, who sat on a chair just outside them with blood covering the front of his tunic.

“What happened?” I asked, voice tight with the strain of keeping myself from running to Connor. I couldn’t lose it. Not now. Later, maybe, but not now.

Grianne gave me an uncomprehending look. One of the other guards said, “With the Duchess indisposed, we ordered the Ball be ended.”

I wheeled on him. “You let people leave?!”

“Er.” He glanced toward Etienne, looking for support. Etienne shook his head, saying nothing. “Why should they have stayed?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because there’s a good chance one of them tried to kill your Duchess?” I turned away in disgust, focusing on Connor. He was watching me with pained amusement, rubbing the back of his head with one hand. I walked over and crouched in front of him. “Connor, what happened?”

He managed a weak smile. “I’m not sure. I went looking for the guards, and somebody hit me from behind. I think I hit my nose against the floor.”

“My Dancers found him in a changing room,” said Grianne.

“Oh, for the love of Maeve,” I muttered, casting a glance toward Garm. “Now do you believe I had nothing to do with this?”

“Helpers are not restricted to serving the virtuous,” he replied, standing at attention next to Etienne. “You’ve killed before.”

My eyes widened. “You don’t trust me because I killed Blind Michael?” He didn’t answer. I turned, scanning the assembled guards. “Does anybody else think I might be behind this because I killed a child-stealing monster? Please. Let’s get it all out in the open now, so I can be allowed to do my job.”

No one said anything. But half of them wouldn’t meet my eyes.

I shoved the cup into Connor’s arms, snapping, “Don’t let anyone touch that,” before I straightened and stalked over to the spot where Luna and I were standing before she fell. There were no visible clues. I could smell the sticky-sweet residue of Luna’s wine, but I had no way of knowing whether or not it had been poisoned.

The fact that I could smell the wine at all meant the smell of the roses below wasn’t as strong as it was earlier. I don’t know much about flowers beyond what can be used in simple charms, but I knew Shadowed Hills, and I knew Luna was tied to her roses. If she was sick, they’d be sick, too, out of sympathy.

One thing hadn’t changed; there was no trace of Oleander’s magic. “There’s nothing here,” I said, disgusted. “She didn’t leave a damn thing behind.”

“She who?” asked the knight who’d admitted to clearing the ballroom.

I started back toward Connor, replying, “Oleander de Merelands.”

The guards—except Etienne and Garm, who’d heard it before—erupted into protests. Watching their reactions, I saw a glimmer of logic in sending everyone home. While there was a good chance their actions allowed Oleander to escape, there was a better chance that they had accidentally prevented a riot. Blind Michael might have been a child’s terror, but Oleander was a terror for adults. The record of her crimes goes back centuries. Sure, it’s never been proved that she assassinated King Gilad’s parents, or King Gilad himself; in both cases, other explanations conveniently presented themselves. Too conveniently.

I ignored the arguing guards as I knelt in front of Connor, putting a hand on his knee before I could consider the ramifications of the action. Screw it. If Raysel wanted to start shit with me over touching her husband, she’d just be giving me a target. “Did you see who hit you?”

Connor put his hand over mine. “No. Before you ask, I didn’t hear anything, either.” He shook his head, and winced. “That was dumb. Don’t let me do that again.”

“Gotcha; no head-banging. What happened?”

“I went out to the receiving hall to look for someone I could grab without attracting too much attention. Everything after that is black.”

“Jin’s with Luna and Sylvester now, but you need to have her take a look at you. You could have a concussion.”

“Just what I always wanted,” said Connor dryly. Touching the back of his head, he winced again. “It hurts like hell. Do you really think you saw Oleander?”

My own head was still pounding, and I didn’t even have a concussion to blame it on. “I didn’t see her. I thought I sensed her magic, and with Luna in something close to a coma, I’m not ready to write the idea off.” I paused, twisting to face Etienne. “Oh, oak and ash. Etienne? Has anyone seen Rayseline? The last time Oleander was here—”

“Sweet Titania,” said Etienne, catching my meaning. Pointing to three of the guards, he snapped, “You! Locate Rayseline, now!” The guards stopped arguing, gave him a uniformly horrified look, and ran.

I turned back to Connor, whose face had frozen in the pained expression of a man who didn’t know how he was supposed to feel. “Hey,” I said, squeezing his knee before pulling my hand away. “It’ll be okay.”

“Liar,” he said softly, and let me go.

I straightened, realizing as I did that the way my dress was hacked off meant I’d been giving anyone behind me a free peepshow. “Where’s May? She can’t have gone home. She doesn’t have the car keys.” What she did have was access to my memories leading up to her “birth,” including Devin teaching me to hotwire damn near anything with wheels. It was better not to think about that too hard.

“She refused to go with the others. She’s in the western antechamber,” said Grianne, cocking her head. “She has sandwiches.”

“Sandwiches.” Grianne nodded. I resisted the urge to yell at her. “Oleander may be in the knowe, and you left May alone with a plate of sandwiches.” If our unknown assailant could get to Lily and Luna, who was to say she or he couldn’t get to a Fetch? Fetches are supposed to be invulnerable. I didn’t want to test it. “Etienne, can you take me to my Fetch?”

“Of course,” said Etienne.

Connor stood shakily, tucking the cup under one arm. “I’m coming with you.” He must have recognized my impending protest, because he added, “Come on, Daye. Do you really think you’ll feel better about my survival chances if you leave me?”

“Sometimes I hate how well you know me,” I muttered. More loudly, I asked, “Is anyone else planning to play tagalong?”

Quentin stepped forward.

I sighed. “I should’ve known. Grianne, can you make sure no one walks barefoot on this section of terrace until after the Hobs have a chance to scrub it down?” That was technically destruction of evidence, but any poison on the cobblestones would also be in the cup. I wouldn’t be losing anything, and the last thing I wanted was for somebody else to get hurt because of something as stupid as an unwashed terrace.

True to form, Grianne didn’t answer out loud. She just nodded, the constant spinning of her Merry Dancers throwing green-and-white shadows across her face.

“Good,” I said, skirting dangerously close to the forbidden thanks. “Guys, come on.” I started into the ballroom, where I could cut across to the receiving hall, and walk from there to the western antechamber, as long as the knowe hadn’t rearranged itself again. Quentin and Connor followed close behind me; Etienne and Garm followed them. Between the five of us, we had two knives and two ceremonial swords. At least one of the knives was iron, and even so, I have never felt so unarmed inside the walls of Shadowed Hills.

Connor was walking even more slowly than normal, probably due to the head injury. I dropped back a bit to walk between him and Quentin, glancing from one to the other. “You guys doing okay?”

“Fine,” said Quentin.

“My head hurts, but I think I’ll live,” Connor said.

“You’re going to see Jin when this is done,” I said. “No one gets to ignore a concussion on my watch.”

Connor frowned. “Are you going to see her, too?”

“Huh?” I realized I’d been rubbing my temple as we walked. Suddenly scowling, I leaned over to pluck the cup from his unresisting hands. “It’s just a headache. Changeling, remember? I gave myself a bad case of magic-burn.”

“I thought that was a real dress,” said Connor, frown fading into bafflement. “What did you do? Try to cast a don’t-look-here on the entire ballroom or something?”

I hesitated. Had I used any magic since we reached the Ball? I didn’t remember doing anything since resetting the apartment wards, and that was a small enough spell that it shouldn’t have been an issue, even for me.

I didn’t have time to answer; we’d reached the antechamber door. I reached for the latch, pausing as I realized we hadn’t passed a single person during the walk from the terrace. The knowe might as well have been deserted. “Now there’s a pleasant thought,” I muttered, and opened the door.

May looked up, mouth half-full of cucumber salad, and mumbled something through the gooey mass of mashed-up bread, cream cheese, and vegetable matter. My leather jacket was on the bench next to her. Swallowing, she tried again: “Did you find out who pulled the fire alarm?”

Raising an eyebrow, I looked at Etienne.

“We couldn’t precisely evacuate the knowe on account of attempted regicide,” he said. He at least had the grace to look embarrassed.

“So you pulled a fire drill?” I shook my head. “Oberon’s ass, this place gets weirder all the time. May, Luna’s been attacked. I need you to go down the hill and call Danny to come give you a ride home.”

She stared at me, sandwich dangling forgotten in her hand. “Luna’s been what? Is she going to be okay?”

“We don’t know yet, but she—”

“Will do far, far better when she knows that you’re far, far away,” replied a familiar voice behind me. I stiffened. “Not that she knows much of anything right now, since she’s basically a corpse that happens to be breathing. Nasty business all the way around.”

I squared my shoulders, taking a breath before I turned to face the next unpleasant challenge of the night.

“Hello, Rayseline,” I said.

What do you get when you cross a Daoine Sidhe with a Blodynbryd pretending to be a Kitsune? Something that scrambles my capacity to read bloodlines. I used to wonder where Raysel got her height. Sylvester’s about average for a Daoine Sidhe, and since I didn’t know about Luna’s stolen skin, I always thought it was weird for such a short woman to have such a tall daughter. Having seen Luna’s true form, the fact that Raysel was almost six feet tall was less strange. That didn’t make needing to tilt my head back to meet her eyes any less annoying.

“October,” she said, with acid sweetness. “I’d expected you to flee the scene by now.”

I shrugged. “I’ve never been good at fleeing.”

“You’ll learn.” Her smile was vulpine, baring the tips of the blunted fangs she somehow inherited from her mother. That’s about the only thing she got from the Luna I grew up knowing. Raysel has her father’s fox-red hair and Torquill gold eyes. Those eyes were filled with a malicious glee I’ve never seen from any other member of the Torquill family—not even Simon. “This would be an excellent time to start.”

“I have nothing to flee from. I didn’t hurt your mother.”

“Didn’t you?” Raysel’s eyes flicked to Etienne and Garm, who stood like silent statues to my left. “How many people in this knowe will believe you? How many in this Duchy? In this Kingdom? You killed my grandfather, and everyone knows he had a way of breaking his toys. You were his. Your word is suspect here.”

A wave of coldness washed over me, bringing the phantom taste of candle wax to my lips. Blind Michael had me long enough to do a lot of damage. I sometimes think he’ll always have me, in my dreams. “What Blind Michael may or may not have done hasn’t changed my loyalty to this Duchy. I serve your father. I’d never hurt Luna.”

“Do you truly think my father is going to be capable of such distinctions when she dies?” Raysel infused the question with almost believable curiosity. “They tell me he was less than reasonable when we were missing.”

Connor paled. I reached over to give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, keeping my attention focused on Raysel. “She’s not going to die.”

Raysel’s eyes narrowed when she saw my hand on Connor’s shoulder, but her smile grew, spreading to fully display her fangs. “No, she won’t, because you won’t be here to hurt her. You’re banished until my father says you can return, and right now, he’s not saying much of anything.”

“On whose authority?” demanded Etienne. I glanced over, startled. I’d almost forgotten he was there. “You forget yourself.”

“Do I?” Raysel smiled. “My father has no named heir. That means I speak in his place, unless and until someone of higher rank says otherwise. Do you want to dispute my authority? Do you really?”

Etienne met her eyes for a long moment before he looked away, shoulders drooping. Raysel’s smile returned, as serene as if she were issuing an invitation to tea.

“I’ll see you tried under Oberon’s Law once she’s gone. You’ll pay for everything you’ve done to us.” There was no sorrow in her eyes; just the petulance of a child whose wishes haven’t been granted. She was waiting for her mother to die and her father to go mad, and she was impatient because it wasn’t happening fast enough.

If I ever really hated her, it was then.

“I’d like to see you try,” I said tightly.

“You can take your trash and go, before I decide you’re better kept confined.” Raysel made a shooing motion with one hand. Glancing at Quentin, she added, “Best you don’t forget who holds your fealty, boy.”

“I know where my loyalties lie,” said Quentin.

His tone made me wince. Making an enemy of Rayseline Torquill might seem like the “noble” thing to do, but it sure as hell wasn’t smart. Quickly, before Raysel’s attention could fix on him, I said, “You know I didn’t hurt her.”

“You killed my grandfather. Some would say that’s enough.”

“She deserves a medal for that,” said Quentin. I blinked, surprised at the venom in his tone. “Any parent in this Kingdom would agree. My parents would agree.”

Almost sweetly, Raysel said, “Your parents have no power here.” Smirking, she turned on her heel and stalked away. The echoes of her footsteps filled the hall until she turned the corner, and was gone.

May stared, openmouthed. “What a—”

“That’s enough, May.” I turned to look at Connor. “Are you okay?”

“No.” He met my eyes without hesitation, shoulders falling into a resigned slump. “I don’t think ‘okay’ is really an option. But I’ll keep an eye on things. Let you know if I see anything suspicious.”

“Good. Keep an eye on Quentin.” If anyone was going to be “keeping an eye” on someone, it would probably be Quentin keeping an eye on Connor. Still, arguing over who was watching out for whom might keep them both occupied, at least for now.

“What?” protested Quentin. “I’m going with you!”

“No. You’re staying here.” He started to speak. I raised my hand, cutting him off. “If you follow me, Raysel won’t let you come back, and you need a way to contact me if she gets out of control.” Her tenuous sanity was clearly slipping, and I was getting worried about the people I was leaving in harm’s way. Especially Connor. Selkies aren’t built for combat on land, and she could break him if she really tried.

Quentin frowned, studying me before he said, “I’ll stay because you told me to. But I don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to.” I turned to Etienne. “You know I didn’t do this.”

“I’d kill you where you stand if I thought you had,” he said calmly.

“That’s fair.” I’d have done the same thing in his place. “Raysel … ”

“I know.” He glanced at the others. “We all do.”

“She might be dangerous.” It was a gamble, but I couldn’t walk away without warning them.

To my relief, he nodded, Garm mirroring the motion. “I know.”

“You’d best find out who did this,” Etienne said. “If you don’t—”

“I’m not stupid. I know what the risks are.”

“No,” he said, stepping back, “you’ve never been stupid, have you?”

“Only on occasion. Good night, Etienne, Garm, Connor. Quentin.”

“ ’Bye, Toby,” said Quentin. Connor didn’t say anything at all. He just stepped shakily over and hugged me. I returned his embrace as tightly as I could with the possibly poisoned cup tucked under my arm, closing my eyes for a split second. Then I straightened, pulling away, and reached for May’s hand.

“Good night, October,” said Etienne. He bowed awkwardly to May, obviously unsure of the etiquette involved in addressing a Fetch. “Ma’am.”

She managed an unsteady smile, grabbing my jacket as she stood. “See you later.”

Leaving them standing where they were, I led May down the hall and out the door, into the warm dark of the mortal night. We were halfway to the parking lot before she asked, “Toby? What just happened?”

“Luna was attacked, and Raysel’s telling people I did it.” I kept pulling her along, my shoes slipping on the damp crabgrass. “So now we have to find a way to fix things.”

“What if there’s not a way?”

“We’ll burn that bridge when we come to it.” We were approaching the car. Spike was curled in a ball on the hood. “Tired, guy?” I asked, picking it up and slinging it over my shoulder. It made a vague, sleepy sound as I unlocked the car.

“Don’t you mean ‘cross’?”

“What?”

“You said ‘we’ll burn that bridge when we come to it.’ Don’t you mean ‘cross’?”

I turned to look back up the hill. Somewhere up there, in a different world, a killer was on the loose, a Duke was mourning his wife before she was even dead, and that same Duke’s crazy daughter was already trying to take control.

“No,” I said, “I don’t.”