Rosemary and Rue

TWENTY-TWO

I DRIFTED, EYES CLOSED, head down, until the pressure in my chest snapped me awake and I started to thrash, looking for the surface. I hadn’t panicked, but it was only a matter of time, and if I didn’t hit the air before I lost control, I was going to be another red mark on the Coast Guard’s already checkered record. Everyone has something they can’t handle. For some people it’s tight spaces or heights. For me, it’s water. I can’t take baths anymore, much less go swimming: it’s showers and polite excuses all the way. It’s too much like going back to the pond.

The sea around me was getting darker. It was light when Connor and I hit the water; the sun should have been visible. Unless I was swimming the wrong way.

I flipped myself around, pushing as hard as I could in the opposite direction. The waves weren’t helping—but then, oceans aren’t known for helping stranded swimmers, especially not ones foolish enough to dive from great heights while fully clothed. I was amazed that I hadn’t broken my neck.

It was getting harder to keep swimming: exhaustion, oxygen deprivation, and my wounded shoulder were conspiring with terror to slow me down. Just to make matters worse, the taste of roses was tickling the back of my throat. I was weak, and the curse was getting stronger; I couldn’t defend myself. If it grabbed me before I reached the air, the threat it represented was going to become a self-fulfilling prophecy, because there was no way I’d survive.

Something hit me from below. I kicked down, suddenly fueled by a new brand of panic, and was rewarded when my heels hit something soft. That would teach the local wildlife not to mess with a drowning changeling. I continued to flail upward until it hit me again. My answering kick was weaker this time. I was running out of energy; I couldn’t tell which way I was going, and the lack of oxygen was starting to blur my vision. The something hit me a third time, and I went limp, giving up. The sharks could have me.

Whatever it was grabbed the back of my shirt and started swimming upward, towing me easily to the surface. I gasped for air, and it held me up until I started treading water. The waves were fairly mild; once I could breathe again, I started looking for shore. If I could reach it before—well, there were a lot of “befores” to worry about. Before the curse hit, before I panicked completely, before I drowned . . .

Something barked behind me, and I turned, coming face-to-muzzle with a harbor seal. I was startled enough that I dipped below the surface for a moment before bobbing back up again, coughing. The seal barked merrily, seeming amused by my surprise.

Selkie. I’d fallen off a cliff into the ocean with a Selkie, and I’d been worried about drowning. I would’ve been embarrassed if I hadn’t been so tired. The curse was burning like it was going to hit at any second; I didn’t have much time.

“Connor?” I said, voice shaking. “Will you take me to shore?” He nodded, swimming closer and letting me loop my arms around his neck. His body was almost as long as mine, strong and healthy as real seals so seldom are.

We were only about a hundred yards from shore, but when you’re traveling by seal-back, that’s more than far enough to be decidedly unpleasant. I kept my eyes closed, trying to ignore the waves slapping my face. It’s rude to get seasick on your escort, however tempting it may be.

The tide tossed us onto the sand just as I thought I couldn’t stand anymore. I staggered to my feet, stumbling away from the water. I almost made it to the dry sand before the curse hit me like a rose-tinted anvil, dropping me to my knees. There wasn’t time to fight; there wasn’t even time to scream. The real world dropped away, and I was lost.

Maybe it was the result of my barely restrained panic; maybe the curse was getting better at hurting me. Either way, it wasn’t just Evening’s death this time. It rifled my memory with casual ease, pulling up the gut-wrenching moment when my lungs forgot what air was and handing it back to me in a tidy package of blood magic and iron. The sand shuddered, first becoming bloody carpet, then the damp, sun-warmed wood of the Tea Garden path. If I screamed, the sound was buried under the memories. There was no present. There was only the past, and I was drowning in it.

Someone was shaking me. Neither of the loops of memory that had ensnared me included shaking—thrashing, bleeding, and dying, but no shaking. I tried to rise toward it and was slapped back by a branch of phantom roses, shoving me down. Dimly, far away, I heard screaming. I couldn’t tell if it was mine or not, and it didn’t matter. This time there was no tourist to help me into the water. The pulse of my heart was like a drum-beat, slowing down under the weight of blood and iron and tangled memory.

I wondered if I was ever going to stop hurting.

Connor slapped me.

The new pain was physical and sharp, letting me reclaim just a little ground. My heartbeat sped up as Connor slapped me again and again, the pain spiking each time to let me climb another step closer to the real world.

He was pulling back his hand to slap me again when I opened my eyes. “Hey,” I said, voice harsh, “you can stop now. Please.”

“I thought you were going to die,” he said, eyes wide.

“Join the club,” I said, trying to be flippant. I wasn’t succeeding. I tried to sit up, and he put an arm behind me, letting me lean against his side.

“What happened?”

“I inhaled too much water.”

“Try again,” Connor said, voice cold. “I’m a Selkie, remember? We drown people semiprofessionally: I know what drowning looks like. If you think I’m going to believe you inhaled too much water, you must think I’m either blind or stupid. I don’t know which is worse.”

I blinked at him, flushing. I hadn’t meant to offend him; I just didn’t realize my lie would be that obvious. Of course, most drowning victims don’t go fetal in the sand and scream their throats raw. The water in their lungs sort of prevents that. “I . . .”

“What happened, Toby? The truth.”

You have to trust someone eventually. That’s just how it works. Maybe Connor O’Dell wouldn’t have been my first choice, but it looked like he was my last one. “Evening happened,” I said, closing my eyes. “When she died, she made sure that I’d do what she asked. She wanted to be avenged, and so she—”

“Dare! She’s over here!” I opened my eyes to see Manuel and Dare running toward us, Dare stumbling in her high heels. “Ma’am! Ms. Daye!” Spotting Connor, they sped up, sudden murder in their expressions.

Connor tensed, and I smiled weakly, lifting one hand to wave. “They’re with me.” More loudly, I called, “Hey, guys. He’s with me, too.”

The pair staggered to a stop. Uncertainly, Manuel asked, “Are you all right, Ms. Daye?”

“I’m fine, Manuel; just a little damp. Connor was kind enough to fish me out of the water.” The ease of the lie astounded me. I guess battered, aching, and cursed had become status quo. “What are you two doing down here?”

“We saw these men go inside, only they were wearing don’t-look-heres so we couldn’t really look right at them, and Manny thought that maybe meant we should follow them, only we couldn’t find a way in, and—” I held up my hand, stopping Dare’s breathless tirade.

“Let’s try it this way,” I said. “Manuel? What happened?”

“We followed some men to the museum; they had a key, we didn’t. We circled the building and reached the cliff just in time to see you fall,” he said, tone brisk and formal.

“So you followed me after I told you not to, and saw us come out of the cliff?”

“Yes.”

“Manuel?”

“Yes?”

“That was dumb.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Turning to Connor, I asked, “Can you help me up? I need to get these two Home.” He shook his head, and scooped me into his arms as he stood. I yelped. “Hey!”

“What?”

“Put me down!” He started to walk down the beach, Manuel and Dare trailing along behind us. “Aren’t you listening? Put me down!”

“No. I am taking you—all of you—back to Shadowed Hills. You can leave when I’m sure you’ll survive.”

Considering recent events, that would probably be sometime in June. I sighed, settling back in his arms. My shoulder was starting to throb, providing a handy reminder that we weren’t safe where we were. Shadowed Hills? All right, that would do.

“This isn’t gonna calm Sylvester’s nerves,” I mumbled.

“Tough.”

“Shouldn’t we call Home first? To say where we’re going?” Manuel sounded unaccountably nervous, like he was afraid Devin would blame him for my impromptu swim. Maybe he would.

Digging into my pocket, I produced the waterlogged cell phone and tossed it onto the beach. “With what? My phone’s ruined. Have you got one?”

“No . . .”

“There you go, then. Connor, how are we getting to Shadowed Hills?”

“You have a car.”

“I can drive!” Dare said.

Connor and I exchanged a look, and he declared, “I’ll drive.” Dare pouted. Connor shook his head. “Sorry, kid. Not this time.”

Confident that Connor had matters in hand, I closed my eyes, letting myself relax. Shadowed Hills is safer than almost anywhere I know; most people have better things to do than bother Sylvester, who has a history of permanent solutions to temporary annoyances. He used to be a hero, after all, and some habits die hard. Besides, how often do you get to watch a Selkie try to drive?

Not that often, it turns out, even when the opportunity actually bothers to arise. Connor put me into the passenger seat, I closed my eyes, and we were there, exhaustion blanking out all the miles in between. I woke up when Connor stopped the car. Dare and Manuel cast worried glances my way as Connor scooped me out of the passenger seat, but I didn’t fight; I just let him carry me up the hill and into the knowe. I wasn’t entirely certain I could have made the walk.

Luna was waiting in the entry hall. There were no footmen in evidence; they had all apparently figured out that the safest place to be was far away from their worried Duchess. Her hair was uncombed, and her tails were knotting themselves behind her, winding and unwinding around each other in agitation.

“Are you all right?” she demanded, turning toward our sandy, water-stained party. The fact that I was curled in Connor’s arms probably made things look even worse, but I didn’t really have the strength to do much else. Manuel and Dare were trying to vanish behind us. Like most of Devin’s kids, they were fine when they were following orders, but they didn’t ad lib well. He never taught them how to be flexible. “Sylvester’s gone to challenge Devin for proof that you’re not dead. I hope you’re pleased with yourself.”

“Hi, Luna,” I said, smiling tiredly.

She studied me, frowning, before she said, “You look terrible. What happened?”

“We sort of fell out of a cliff and into the ocean.”

“We?”

Connor winced. “It wasn’t exactly intentional . . .” he began.

Luna ignored him. “What were you doing?”

“Running,” I said.

“From what?”

“I don’t quite know,” I said. “Mostly from the noises in the hall.”

“You fell off a cliff because you were running from noises?”

“In Goldengreen,” Connor said, apparently deciding he needed to contribute. Bad idea. Luna turned on him, glaring, and he cringed. I would’ve expected him to know better.

“Were you hurt?” she asked, turning back to me.

“Not badly.” I gestured to my bleeding shoulder. “I got shot a few days ago, but that’s mostly been healed.”

“Shot and injured enough that you couldn’t manage to make a phone call. Oh, that’s not bad at all.” Looking around us to Manuel and Dare, who were trying not to be noticed, she added, “And you brought guests.”

Dare stared at her feet, ears turning a deep red. Manuel bobbed a quick bow and mumbled, “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

Luna’s icy demeanor melted fractionally as she smiled. She’s never been good at staying mad, and she usually gets that way because she’s worried about someone—frequently me. I have a talent for panicking her. “It’s good to meet you, too.”

I poked Connor in the shoulder. “Put me down.” He gave me a dirty look, but wasn’t going to argue in front of Luna. I staggered as he lowered me to my feet, and Dare stepped forward, offering me her arm. I took it gratefully. “Hey, kid.”

Leaning toward me, she whispered, “She has three tails.”

“Yes,” I said, in a normal tone of voice. Whispering is rude, especially when you’re dealing with someone whose ears are sensitive enough to hear mice rustling in a field. “Her Grace is one of the Kitsune.” Luna smiled, and I smiled back.

“Kitsune?” Manuel said. “Fox fairy?”

“Exactly,” Luna agreed. “October, while introductions are all well and good, I hope you don’t think this is going to distract me from finding out what happened. My husband’s been unbearable with worry over you.”

I sighed. “All right, Luna. Is there a place where Manuel and Dare can go clean up, and maybe get something to eat?” The kids stared at me, but didn’t protest. Never question the boss in public.

Luna snapped her fingers. A mote of light appeared in front of her. “Follow this, and it will lead you to the kitchens,” she said. “Quentin will meet you there; he can help with anything you need.”

“But . . .” Dare said, glancing at me.

“Don’t worry, Dare; it’s safe here,” I said. “Safe is what Shadowed Hills does best.” That was true, as long as we didn’t mention the nasty, still-unsolved matter of Luna and Raysel disappearing for a decade. “Now shoo—it’s not nice to keep people waiting, and Quentin’s a friend of mine.” Dare started to protest, but Manuel shushed her and took her hand, pulling her along as he followed Luna’s guide.

Luna turned to me once they’d vanished around the corner, asking, “Devin’s?”

“Yes.”

“For how long?”

“Long enough.” I shook my head. “They’re good kids. Manuel—the boy—has more common sense, but I think his sister’s close to breaking. They need to get out.”

“Were you perhaps thinking of bringing them here?”

I smiled sheepishly. “You do have a tradition of taking in strays.”

“Yes, I do,” she said, glancing at Connor. He stiffened, but said nothing. Luna dismissed him with a glance, turning back to me. “Is this an exchange?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

She sighed. “Do you really think I can’t smell him on you? But no matter. What happened?”

The question meant I could avoid the subject of Devin for a little while—but not, I knew, forever. If Luna was asking now, Sylvester would be asking later. “Look, can we go somewhere? This isn’t the most private place in the knowe.”

“Of course. Connor, bring her.” Luna turned, starting for a pale blue door that I hadn’t noticed before. Probably because it hadn’t been there. Knowes are like that.

Before I could say anything, Connor had scooped me off my feet again. “Hey!”

He grinned. “Just following orders.”

I sighed, deciding struggling would be more trouble than it was worth, and let him carry me through the door. There was an indoor garden on the other side, looking like nothing so much as the yard of an old English country house. Cobblestone paths wound around boulders draped with moss, while rioting roses and honeysuckle did their best to obscure delicate marble statuary. Luna led us to a space between two hedges, where the ground was carpeted with clover and buttercups. “Put her down, please.”

Connor lowered me gently into a seated position. I leaned back on my hands, digging my fingers into the clover. Luna knelt beside me.

“I’ve never seen this garden before,” I said.

“I planted it while you were away, as a memorial to my internment and your death. It has happier connotations now that we’ve both come home.” She fixed me with a stern eye. “You’re bleeding.”

“I tore my scar.” I pulled the fabric of my shirt aside to show the narrow fissure through the middle of the scar on my shoulder.

Luna frowned, reaching out to touch it with delicate fingers. “This is newer than it looks. And the wound was made with iron.”

“You’re right on both counts.”

“Whose idea was it to take you to the Luidaeg?”

I froze. “How can you . . . ?”

“I’ve seen her work a time or two. This was her, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.” Luna knew the Luidaeg? I suppose I should have known—they’ve both lived in the Bay Area for centuries—but somehow the idea was jarring. I couldn’t imagine what sort of a situation would have brought those two together.

“Of course.” She produced a roll of gauze from a pocket in her skirt, passing it to me. “Wrap yourself.” Seeing my expression, she added, “You learn to carry bandages when you work with roses as much as I do.”

“Right,” I said, and started clumsily binding my shoulder.

Luna made no move to help, but waited until I tied off the gauze before saying, “Now. Tell me what’s happened—tell me everything. No lies. I’ll know.”

I looked at her, then nodded and began from the beginning. This time I told the whole story, or as much of it as I felt was safe. There were still a few things I wasn’t ready to share: I left out the hope chest and my suspicions about Raysel, preferring to wait until I had more answers. I told them everything else. The phone calls, the gunshots, the Doppelganger, even the binding that Evening had buried in my bones. Everything.

Luna’s lips were pulled back in a silent snarl by the time I finished, displaying the vulpine teeth she usually kept politely concealed. “Why didn’t you tell us this to begin with?” Even Connor was just staring at me, stunned. I wasn’t sure which was worse: the fury in Lu na’s eyes, or the bleak despair in his. Skinshifters sit on a strange edge, not changelings, but not quite purebloods. They’re weaker than most fae because their blood is so confused. He knew what the curse meant as well as I did because his blood was as thin as mine.

“What good would it have done, Luna?” The bitterness in my tone surprised even me. “It was too late as soon as I heard her message. I finish this, or I die.”

“You know what you have to do,” she said. “It’s obvious.”

I frowned. “Actually, no, it’s not. What are you talking about?”

“You have to visit the Luidaeg.” She said it like it was a perfectly reasonable idea.

Like hell. Raising the dead would have seemed like a reasonable idea compared to visiting the Luidaeg. I stared. “I have to what?”

“Visit the Luidaeg.”

“This is sudden. And sort of insane.”

“I know. But it’s what you have to do.”

Connor turned toward her, eyes wide. Good for him. It’s not every day your mother-in-law tries to send your friends to visit a demon. “Luna—”

“Connor, be quiet. This is October’s road to follow, not yours.”

“And why, exactly, do you think this is a good idea? Are you trying to get me killed?”

“No. I’m trying to save you.” Luna narrowed her eyes. “When the Luidaeg healed your wounds, she became a part of this story. She tasted your blood, Evening’s with it. She knows that binding now, how it’s built, what went into making it and catching you with it. If there’s anyone who can tell you how to get out of this, it’s the sea witch. She’s the only person strong enough, and fair enough, to do it.”

“Fair?”

“She follows the rules. Whether she wants to or not, she follows them. If you go through her, there’s a chance you’ll come out alive on the other side.” Luna sighed. “You’re too much like your mother. It’s difficult to believe that you’ve managed to live this long.”

“Luck,” I said, voice flat. I didn’t like her bringing my mother into this. It felt like dirty pool.

Luna shook her head. “I don’t think this is a good idea, or a wise one, but it’s the only one I have. She may be able to help you. I can’t.”

I looked at her for a moment, and then slowly rose, bracing myself against the hedge. “I understand, Your Grace.”

“Do you?”

“I think so.” I sighed. “I should’ve told you sooner.”

“Yes, you should have,” she said, standing. “It’s too late for that now. You have to get help, Toby. Please.”

“Do you really think the Luidaeg will help me?”

Connor had fallen silent, staring at us in dismay.

“I don’t think you have any other options,” Luna said.

“Right.” I raked my hair back with one hand. “Can . . . I hate to ask this, but can Manuel and Dare stay here until I get back?” The question was bigger than it seemed. I wasn’t just asking if they could wait for me; I was asking, if the Luidaeg didn’t let me come back, whether Luna would take care of them. Dare asked me to get them out. I couldn’t get them far, but I could get them to Shadowed Hills, and Sylvester wouldn’t let Devin take them if they didn’t want to go. They could be safe here, if they were willing to be.

Luna nodded. “Of course. They’re eating and harassing Quentin now; I’ll speak to them after you’ve gone.” She cocked her head to the side, listening to something. “It sounds like they’ve decided to teach him a new form of poker. Poor dear.”

“That’s my kids for you.” I grinned.

“Quite. Your kids, indeed. Do you know how to find the Luidaeg?”

I paused. “No. I never needed to.”

“I didn’t think so.” She snapped her fingers. A thorny face appeared in the bushes. “Hello, dear. Toby needs an escort.” The rose goblin rattled its thorns as it padded out to sit in front of her, turning vivid yellow eyes toward me.

“Hey, you,” I said, pleased. “It’s nice to see you again.” It opened its mouth and chirped, apparently pleased as well. It’s always nice to be remembered.

“It will lead you where you need to go,” Luna said, stepping back. “Trust it, but don’t let it out of your sight until you’ve reached your destination.”

“What if I do?”

“You’ll regret it.” She smiled, sadly. “Just come back, all right? We mourned you once. I’d rather not do it again.”

“It’s not on my list of goals either, Your Grace.” I straightened, getting my balance back, and looked to the rose goblin. “Any time.”

It sneezed and took off at a run, heading for the garden’s edge. There wasn’t time for pauses or good-byes: I launched myself after it, somehow finding the strength to run. Behind me, Luna called, “Trust the goblin!” just as it leaped and vanished through the stone of the wall.

Luna had never led me astray. She could be imperious and vague at the same time, but she’d never lied to me, and so I kept running, jumping after it without pause.

The wall parted like mist, opening on a long tunnel. The goblin was a slash of moving green in the dark ten feet ahead. I kept my eyes on its back, ignoring the stitch in my side as I pounded after it. It leaped for another wall, vanishing again, and I followed, landing on a swaying theater catwalk. The goblin paused, looking back over its shoulder to see that I was still behind it. Then it stepped to the edge of the catwalk, and launched itself into the darkness.

In for a penny, in for a pound. I jumped after it, managing not to stumble when my feet hit solid ground. The goblin kept running, and I followed, into the dark.