this.
“Understood,” said April.
“I need to get my purse and some slightly less insulting clothes,” said Li Qin. “Can you wait here for me?”
“Unless Chelsea appears in the cafeteria, we’ve got nowhere else to go,” I said. I paused. “Besides, there’s a phone call I should make.”
Quentin gave me a curious look. “Who?”
I unzipped the top pocket on my leather jacket and extracted my cell phone. “I need to let Tybalt know what’s going on,” I replied.
“I will keep Quentin entertained until your return,” said April. Knowing her, that could take the form of anything from math problems to violent video games. Knowing Quentin, he could take it. I nodded to her and walked out of the cafeteria a few steps behind Li Qin.
Once we were out in the hall, she turned left, vanishing. I walked over to the far wall and leaned against it. The Court of Cats doesn’t have telephone service, and reaching their King can require some pretty circuitous tactics. Flipping my phone open, I dialed the house.
The phone rang three times before a sweet female voice said, “Hello?”
“Hey, Jazz.” May’s girlfriend, Jasmine—Jazz for short—is a Raven-maid, a diurnal skinshifter. Unlike the rest of us, she doesn’t get cranky when she’s forced to stay awake past dawn. “I need you to do me a favor.”
Her tone shifted, becoming all business. “Sure, Toby,” she said. “What do you need?”
“I need to get a message to Tybalt. Can you flap over to Golden Gate Park for me?”
“Of course.”
“Great. Tell him we followed Chelsea’s trail to Fremont but lost track of her before we got here. Quentin and I are heading into Dreamer’s Glass. Riordan has been behaving oddly, and I want to find out whether that’s due to her having something to hide, as opposed to her usual bat-shit crazy. I think I’m going to need backup. I bet he’d like some things to hit.”
There was a pause before Jazz said, “Are you actually
“I just said that, didn’t I?”
“Oh, thank Oberon. I’ll tell him. Where should he meet you?”
I decided to leave that one alone. “Tell him to head for the main building at ALH Computing. I’m pretty sure he can’t get in via the Shadow Roads, but he’s been here before—he should know where to come out. I’ll tell Countess O’Leary that he’s coming. She’ll know when we’ve been gone for long enough to need someone to extract us.”
Was I being paranoid in assuming there was a chance Riordan was going to try to detain us against our will? Yeah, probably. That didn’t mean I wasn’t also right.
“I will,” said Jazz firmly. “Open roads and kind skies, Toby.”
“Open roads,” I said, and hung up.
Quentin and April were sitting at the table when I returned to the cafeteria. He was busy shoving sandwiches into his mouth as if he had no idea where his next meal was going to be coming from. She wasn’t eating; instead, she was solemnly explaining the plot of a movie that sounded like the sort of thing May likes to watch on Saturday nights when there’s nothing better for her to do. Giant mutant fruit bats featured heavily.
Both of them turned when I stepped into the room. Quentin swallowed, not bothering to chew, before asking, “Did you get through?”
“Jazz is taking him a message and letting him know we may need backup. If all goes well, we won’t wind up stranded in Dreamer’s Glass while Chelsea brings the world down around our ears.”
“You always say the most optimistic things.” He stood, pausing only long enough to shove his last two sandwiches into his coat pockets. “It was good to see you again, April.”
“It was good to see you as well.” April didn’t stand; she just disappeared and reappeared next to me. “I am glad you were able to meet my secondary parent.”
“Me, too,” I said. It was odd to think of Li Qin as having been married to Jan, largely because it was hard to imagine Jan being married to anyone not made of circuitry and computer code. I guess we’re all more complicated than we look on the surface. As for why Quentin, who had been a Ducal page, hadn’t known about her…Li Qin didn’t seem to have a title of her own. Right or wrong, that would have made her irrelevant to the local political structure. If she hadn’t been married to Sylvester’s niece, he might have heard of her anyway, but Sylvester was oddly protective of information where Jan was concerned. That particular quirk kept finding new and surprising ways to bite us in the ass.
The door opened, and Li Qin stuck her head into the room. “Are you ready?” she asked. She had changed into her “slightly less insulting clothes,” leaving her ready for either a Renaissance Faire or a semiformal Court appearance, depending on how you looked at it. She was wearing a floor-length red brocade skirt a few shades darker than her rose-pink peasant blouse, with a waist-cincher corset in a red so deep that it was almost black. Her hair was loose around her face, hanging down below her shoulders, and she was wearing an illusion that made her seem human, adding whites to her eyes and slightly softening her face.
I blinked. Quentin blinked, too, and he said what I was thinking: “How did you lace yourself into that thing without help?”
“Velcro,” said Li Qin serenely. “If you would come with me, I’ll take you to the next stop on your chaperoned tour of the South Bay.”
“I always enjoy visiting crazy despots,” I said. “Let’s roll.”
“Bye, April,” said Quentin.
“Good-bye,” said April, and disappeared.
We didn’t see anyone as we walked back to the parking lot. The engine had barely had time to cool off. Li Qin took the front passenger seat without comment, apparently assuming that as navigator, she got to ride shotgun. I raised an eyebrow at Quentin. He shook his head. Even after all his time with me, my squire still had sufficient manners not to argue with a lady.
“Head for San Jose,” said Li Qin, once I was in the car with the engine started. “I’ll tell you where to turn when we get closer.”
“Got it.” I pulled out of the parking lot, the shadows of the eucalyptus trees ringing the company grounds dancing over my windshield like ghosts. The portcullis was up when we approached, and it dropped only after we were safely through. Quentin and I both sighed with relief.
Li Qin watched this with clear, if tired, amusement. Then she said, “I understand you were made Countess of Goldengreen?”
“Yeah, but I gave the title up. Dean Lorden is in charge of the County now.” More power to him. I’d hated being a Countess. I wasn’t equipped for it, and if I’d kept my fiefdom, I would probably have done some serious damage. Dean, on the other hand, was raised in a noble household. His mother, Dianda, was the Duchess of Saltmist, and when she wasn’t playing scary mermaid games, she ran a pretty good Duchy. She’d taught her sons to rule, even knowing that only one would ever inherit in the Undersea. Lucky Dean, he tripped over one of the rare land nobles who wanted her holdings about as much as she wanted a hole in the head. Maybe less.
“Good,” said Li Qin. “The fact that you had power and chose to give it up will tell Riordan that you’re either without ambition or dangerously unbalanced. Either way, you should be interesting enough not to throw out unheard.”
“What about me?” asked Quentin.
“You’re my squire, so clearly your folks are cool with you hanging out with a loony slacker,” I said amiably. “That makes you pretty harmless, politically speaking.”
“I’m not sure how I feel about that,” said Quentin.
“For today, embrace it,” advised Li Qin. “It may be what makes this a fruitful meeting.”
“Good old Duchess Riordan.” I shook my head. “That’s the problem with feudalism. You never get to vote the crazy ones out.”
“Don’t,” said Li Qin, with sudden sharpness. I glanced her way, surprised. She shook her head. “Don’t make the mistake of writing Treasa Riordan off as crazy. If you want madness, visit the Court at Golden Gate. Riordan has something a lot more dangerous.”
“What’s that?” asked Quentin.
