Shadowed Hills. Tell her we seek an audience. Immediately.” I let him go. Bemusement melting into something close to panic, he clutched the arrows to his chest and scampered away, vanishing into the crowd.
I hate doing that to pages. Most of them have never seen the world outside a court setting, and they’re destined to grow up to be useless fops like Dugan, unless they get lucky and find a knight willing to teach them to be something better. Quentin is the exception where junior courtiers are concerned, not the rule.
“That was unkind,” said Etienne.
“Forgive me if my manners aren’t at their best just now. I have a lot on my mind.” I glared at him, sidelong. “You’re not a parent. You wouldn’t understand.”
“I don’t pretend to understand your pain, October, but there are better ways to express it.”
I sighed. “I guess. I just don’t know what to d—”
The word died as a slender female arm locked around my neck. Its owner brought her other hand up, pressing the edge of a knife to the skin just below my jaw. I froze. The “fight or flight” impulse gets a little muted when either response might leave me with an open jugular. I guess I have some sense of self-preservation after all.
“So you say you’re my dearest, most esteemed Countess Daye,” said the Queen, inches from my ear. “Yet others say the Countess Daye has turned traitor. Others say she’s gone to sea with the enemies of my Kingdom. That she sent her baby-faced death in her place because she couldn’t be bothered to cater to the whims of the woman she’s sworn to serve.”
“Uh, Etienne? A little help here?” I swallowed. The blade she was holding to my neck was very sharp, and I was suddenly intensely reminded of how much she disliked me—and how tempted she might be to “slip.”
“Your Majesty, the Countess Daye was merely undertaking her commission as she understood it, seeking to find the answers to the troubles which plague your fair Kingdom’s shores,” said Etienne, in a voice as slick as buttered silk. “There has been no treason here. You have my word on that.”
“Yours, but not her own? An interesting statement in and of itself.” The Queen’s breath was warm against my ear as she leaned closer, and hissed, “Blood will tell.” Even with her voice pitched so low it was barely audible, the power native to her bloodline—Siren and Banshee both run in her veins—hummed through my bones, chilling them. She can’t command you with her voice. But she
“I believe the blade in your hand is distracting her such that she is unable to speak in her own defense,” said Etienne, still sounding utterly calm. I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to hug him for keeping things under control, or slap him for not pulling her off me. “If you would release her, I’m sure she would have a great deal of interest to share.”
There was a long pause. Finally, with a snort of derision, the Queen snapped, “Very well. But if she so much as twitches toward a weapon, both your lives are forfeit, for cause of treason.”
I found myself strangely relieved that she hadn’t said “for reason of treason.” I’m pretty sure the Queen would have slit my throat if I’d started giggling. “Cool by me,” I said, trying to move my vocal cords as little as possible.
“Then we are in agreement,” said Etienne. “Your Highness?”
The Queen pushed me away, making a sound that would have been rude coming from anyone who wasn’t royalty. I took advantage of the shove, using it to justify taking two long steps away from her before I turned, dropping immediately into a full formal curtsy. It was the only appropriate thing to do.
“Rise,” snarled the Queen. “I would like the explanation I have been promised.”
I straightened, keeping my expression neutral. It wasn’t easy. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
The threat of coming war had sea-changed the Queen of the Mists once again. Her white-foam hair was plaited back, making the alien lines of her face seem sharper and more angular. There was a new madness in her eyes, layered thick over the old, making it almost impossible to look into them for long. I forced myself to keep looking at her. Whatever she was looking for, she wouldn’t find it if I let her stare me down.
She stared into my eyes for a count of ten, a wordless curse on her snarling face. Bit by bit, the new madness broke, fading back into the old, familiar kind of crazy. It said something about my day that I viewed this as an improvement. “Well?” she demanded.
The power had gone out of her voice. She was still an angry monarch, but she was no longer an angry monarch on the verge of making my brain run out of my ears. “Whoever told you they saw me enter the Undersea was correct. I was invited by the Duchess of Saltmist, so that I could search the quarters of her missing sons for any signs of who might have taken them.” I didn’t mention that she’d invited me because I asked her to. Somehow, I didn’t see that helping my case.
Her eyes narrowed. “How did you survive this ‘visit’?”
“I can show you. May I get something from my pocket?”
“If you reach for a weapon, my guards will cut you down before you draw.”
“Kinda figured.” I slipped my right hand into my pocket as slowly as I could, producing the shell the Luidaeg gave me. It was warm to the touch, but I couldn’t tell how much of that was from my own body heat. “Have you seen one of these before?”
The Queen gasped. The sound grated against my bones. “Where did you . . .”
“You know the Luidaeg and I have a long-standing association. She wanted me to monitor the situation between the land and sea.” The shell was nothing but a communication device, but she didn’t need to know that. I sure as hell wasn’t going to show her any of the other things I was carrying.
“And she’s siding with the land?” Was that hope I heard in her voice? Hope, or something like it. I almost hated to dash it against the cold rocks of reality.
“She’s not siding with anyone. She can’t. But she can ask me to do it.” I glanced toward Etienne, offering what I hoped was a reassuring nod. The poor guy didn’t spend enough time around me to be used to this sort of thing. “She wants this resolved as much as the rest of us do.”
“So she sent you to the seas.” The Queen’s moon-mad eyes narrowed. “What did you learn?”
“That you weren’t responsible for what happened to the Lordens, but someone from the land was.” I took a breath, and launched into my explanation once again. I was starting to feel like I needed flash cards, just to make things go faster. The Queen listened without interruption, her face giving away nothing of what she was feeling.
I told her almost everything. Almost, because I wasn’t willing to tell her my daughter was among the missing. It wasn’t because I was afraid she’d take me off the case—that sort of thing only happens in the mortal world; in Faerie, danger to family is supposed to make you better at your job, not worse—but because if she waved Gillian off as an acceptable loss, I’d have to kill her.
Finally, I finished, and fell into an uneasy silence, waiting for her to respond. After a long pause, she said, “I see. You come here only to add worse news to what I already have. Your courtesy grows with every passing day.”
“I’m here to ask you, to
Her frown was almost puzzled this time. “Call it off? But you said it yourself. People have died. There’s no calling it off once blood is shed.”
“But—”
“Oberon’s Law is very clear. You, more than anyone, should know that. Only in a time of war is killing justified, and I’d not make criminals of my subjects. The war goes forward. There will be a reckoning.”
“For what? The damages done? Won’t that just do
“Then we’ll have a reckoning for that, until the better side stands triumphant, and the last reckoning pays for all.” She looked serious, like what she was saying made perfect sense. Her knife had vanished in the frills of her skirt, leaving her the very image of the innocent, slightly puzzled Queen of Faerie—Titania in disarray. I only had to see her eyes to know that I couldn’t change her mind. As long as there was an excuse to fight, they’d fight. I had to take their excuses away, and that meant proving this war had been provoked.
“What if the Undersea forgives it?” I asked, desperately.
Her innocence cracked, revealing the anger in her eyes. “Would you have me forgive their insult?”
“If they can forgive a death, yeah, I sort of would. It seems like the reasonable thing to do, you know?”
