who was essentially a living piece of the wind to get by. They only came to land to sell their services to the highest bidder. In this case, it must have been Riordan. Somehow, knowing that she had invisible guards didn’t make me feel any better about being there.
Li Qin walked around the car to stand beside me, unbothered by the translucent men with swords. “I am allowed, under the mourner’s flag, to visit these lands and claim hospitality.”
“Well, sure, honey, but that doesn’t mean you get to go bringing guests.” The new voice was female, more solid than the whispering tones of the Folletti. I turned to see a Daoine Sidhe woman in jeans and a black T-shirt with “The Careful Application of Terror is Also a Form of Communication” printed across the front. Her only jewelry was a ruby choker, red against the white of her throat. “Sergio, you can take your boys and go back on patrol. I’ve got these ones.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” The Folletti in front of me slid his sword back into an unseen sheath, sketched a bow, and vanished. The other Folletti did the same. My hair was ruffled by a sudden wind, and the taste of their presence vanished from my mouth.
“Hello, Treasa,” said Li Qin. “You’re looking well.”
Duchess Treasa Riordan looked more than well. Like most Daoine Sidhe, she looked radiant, even dressed like she was getting ready to make a munchies run before a night of cramming for exams. Her shoulder-length hair was a shade of red so dark it verged on black and shattered the light into prismatic shards when she moved. Her features were exquisite, and her figure could have convinced a fashion magazine that jeans were the only appropriate attire for the season. Gorgeous isn’t uncommon in Faerie. Still, I sometimes think I see certain people so often that their beauty stops affecting me the way it should. I wasn’t having that problem with Riordan. Just looking at her made my heart hurt a little bit.
“And you’re looking like you’re taking advantage of mourner’s rights. I’m counting your hours, Li. One minute over, you’re on my land, your ass is mine.” Duchess Riordan said this as calmly and pleasantly as a normal person might ask her guests if they wanted a cup of coffee.
“I am aware,” said Li Qin, taking it in stride.
“Just so we’re all on the same page here.” Duchess Riordan turned to me and Quentin. Her eyes were an impossible shade of frosted lilac, like flowers that had been left outside during a cold snap. “And you are?”
“October Daye of Shadowed Hills, Your Grace.” I bowed. Being a knight means I don’t have to curtsy unless I want to. Bowing was equally appropriate, and it would hopefully make me look like I was a little dense when it came to courtly behavior, rather than making me seem rude. Riordan was an unknown factor.
“Really? You’re Amandine’s daughter?” Riordan’s frosty purple eyes searched my face with new intensity before she passed judgment: “I thought you’d be taller.”
“I get that a lot,” I said, even though I didn’t. Quentin moved to my other side. I gestured to him with one hand. “This is my squire, Quentin.”
“Milady,” said Quentin. His bow was deeper than mine and scrupulously formal. He was a Ducal page before I acquired him. Certain habits die hard, and no matter how hard I try to shake them out of him, I have to admit that sometimes they come in handy.
“Hmm,” said Riordan. The look she gave him was as assessing as the one she’d given me, but it was the sort of assessment most people reserve for livestock and expensive appliances.
Quentin was growing up. He was handsome enough, if I stepped back and forced myself to think of him that way, but that wasn’t what mattered. What mattered was that he was a pureblood Daoine Sidhe, trained in the courtly arts, and approaching marriageable age. For a woman like Riordan, the fact that he came from a family low-ranked enough to allow him to be squired to a changeling—and one from an unknown bloodline, at that—was probably a bonus. What I knew about her told me that she wasn’t a woman who shared power well.
I wasn’t the only one who understood what that look meant. Quentin swallowed hard, looking uncomfortable, and shifted to put himself just a little bit farther behind me. Smart kid.
“Now, then. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to greet you as soon as you pulled in, but I was just wrapping up a raid when the border alarms told me we had company.” A smile spread across Riordan’s face. I didn’t trust it one bit. “I’m glad to see Sergio and his boys didn’t damage any of you. Folletti can be so endearingly enthusiastic, don’t you think?”
“Raid?” I asked.
“You play
“Sure do, sugar. On the internet, nobody knows that you’re an all-powerful faerie monarch, now, do they?” Riordan’s smile turned briefly more believable.
“All-powerful” was stretching things a bit, but hey. We were in her domain; if she wanted to be delusional, I wasn’t going to argue. “Your Grace, Li Qin is here because I wanted to request an audience with you. We’re trying to locate a missing changeling. I was hoping one of your people might have seen her.”
Riordan’s eyes narrowed. “Are you implying something, honey?”
“No, not at all. I just figured someone as connected and well-informed as you would be aware of anything strange that happened in your Duchy, and there are signs she went this way, at least for a little while.” I was laying it on a little thick. That probably wasn’t a bad idea.
“Hmm,” said Riordan, managing to sound interested and annoyed at the same time. It was a neat trick. “All right, then, if you were willing to endure her company,” she waved a hand at Li Qin, who held her silence, and her small, polite smile, “just to see me, I suppose I should let myself be seen. Li can show you where I keep the guests I don’t feel like dealing with. The Folletti will escort you to my receiving chamber in twenty minutes.” She turned to walk away.
“But you’re here now,” I protested, before I thought better of it.
Riordan looked back over her shoulder at me, and winked. “Gotta log off, honey. Otherwise, the guild will get annoyed with me, and you’re not worth that much. Ta-ta.” That appeared to finish things, at least for her; this time when she walked away, she didn’t look back.
“That was…” I said, and stopped, unsure how I could finish that sentence without bringing the Folletti down on my head. The fact that Riordan had left us standing in a big, empty room potentially full of invisible men who were hanging out just outside the range of my ability to find them wasn’t escaping me.
“I usually go with ‘bracing,’” said Li Qin. “Jan usually had a few other things to say, but she was smart enough to save them until we were home. Still, we have permission to be here now. Come on. I’ll show you to the foyer.”
Li Qin was short enough that keeping up with her was easy. Keeping myself from walking too fast and leaving her behind, now, that was hard. It didn’t help that Quentin was practically glued to my side, looking around as though he expected Riordan to leap out and propose shacking up at any moment.
“So,” I said, as we walked. “That was different. Given the way you’re dressed, I expected something a little more, you know. Traditional.” Probably including the traditional changing room just inside the knowe, where I could have cast an illusion over my own jeans, jacket, and T-shirt.
Li Qin laughed. “Riordan is
“Cute,” I said.
“Believe me, you’ve only scratched the surface.” We had reached the wall of the cavern, which looked like smooth, unbroken stone. After our arrival from the parking garage, it wasn’t really a surprise when Li Qin just kept going, disappearing into the gray without a ripple. I looked at Quentin, shrugged, and followed her through the wall.
The cavern-slash-garage was huge the way mountains or oceans are huge—naturally, and without trying to make a point through sheer size. That was the only thing it had in common with the hallway on the other side of the wall.
The entry hall of Riordan’s knowe was decorated in what I could only describe as early Victorian bordello as reinterpreted by the creative team behind the
