Quentin pulled a cellular phone from his pocket and offered it to me. “I don’t like this either,” he said, “but here.”
I took the phone, relaxing slightly as I saw the crest of Tamed Lightning etched into the plastic. Countess April O’Leary of Tamed Lightning is an ally, and more, she’s a techno-Dryad—something that may be completely unique in Faerie, and was only possible because of her adopted mother’s particular mix of Daoine Sidhe and Tylwyth Teg heritage. Her skill at adapting modern electronics to work in the Summerlands makes her the envy of every Gremlin in the Kingdom. If this was one of April’s phones, it was secure.
“Cool,” I said, flipping the phone open and dialing.
Danny picked up on the second ring. “McReady’s Taxi.”
“Danny? It’s me.”
“Toby!” His voice boomed through the phone loudly enough for everyone to hear. “Fuck’s sake, girly, I thought you were—” He cut himself off. “Never mind what I thought. You safe? You need me? Where are you—no, wait. Don’t tell me where you are if it’s not safe. When they said you’d escaped, I thought—”
“Danny!” I hated to interrupt, but I didn’t have time for him to calm down on his own. “Connor and I need a ride to Shadowed Hills. Are you available?”
“You, ah, sure that’s a good idea? What with the Queen and the sentence of death and everything? Not saying I won’t do it—pretty sure she’s gunning for me already, after the way I mouthed off at your trial—just it might not be the safest thing you could do.”
“I have to.”
“In that case, I’m yours. Just say where.”
“Great.” I cupped a hand over the receiver. “Tybalt? Where are we?”
He sighed, muttering, “I shouldn’t tell you,” before adding, in a normal tone, “The exit will place you at the corner of Derby and Telegraph.”
“Okay.” To the phone, I said, “Berkeley. Derby and Telegraph.”
“Be there in ten,” said Danny, and hung up.
I tossed Quentin his phone. “Come on, Connor. He’ll be here in ten minutes. You guys … just be safe. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” I spread my fingers, filling them with shadows, and almost lost hold again as my magic rose eagerly to answer. It was too fast; I didn’t know how to control it. Forcing myself to keep breathing, I wove the cut grass and copper strands into a human disguise, throwing it over myself and letting my hands unclench. It was easy; too easy.
“Your magic smells funny,” said Raj, bemused.
He was right. The copper was too sharp, like freshminted pennies. There’d be time to think about that later. Not letting myself hesitate, I turned, gesturing for Connor to follow. We almost made it before Tybalt caught up with us, grabbing my arm and spinning me to face him. I raised my eyes to his, barely aware of holding my breath.
“Come back to me,” he said. Then he let go, shoving me away as he turned and stalked back to the table. Quentin had his head down and his shoulders locked as he pretended to focus on his breakfast. Raj was staring after us, looking heartbroken. I looked at them. Then I shook my head, mouthed, “I’m sorry,” and kept going.
The transition between the Court of Cats and the Berkeley street was smooth, depositing us outside in the cool of evening. I breathed deeply, realizing as I did that this was the first time I’d been allowed to breathe mortal air since my trial. I didn’t have to look back to know that the entrance to the Court of Cats would be gone; Tybalt was too smart to leave it open, no matter how much he didn’t want us to leave.
“Hey.” Connor touched my elbow lightly.
“Hey.” I slanted a smile in his direction. “Like the new look?”
He laughed unsteadily, dropping his hand away from my elbow and threading his fingers through mine. I didn’t pull away, but stepped closer, resting my head against his shoulder and letting the heat coming off his skin warm me through. “To be honest, I don’t know. But you’re not dead, and that’s good enough for me.”
There didn’t seem to be anything I could say to that. We stayed that way, waiting, until a battered green taxicab roared around the corner and screeched to a stop in front of us. It had barely stopped when Danny launched himself out of the driver’s-side door, charging around the car and sweeping me into a massive hug. My feet left the ground, and I found myself faced with an interesting predicament: kick my ride to Shadowed Hills in the knee, or suffocate?
Connor solved the issue by tapping Danny on the arm—as high as he could reach—and saying apologetically, “I don’t think she can breathe.”
“Aw, hell!” Danny put me down, grinning ear-to-ear as he clapped his hands down on my shoulders. “You’re alive!”
“I am. But we need to get moving. Can I fill you in on the way?”
“Yeah, yeah. Here.” He opened the passenger door for me, waving me to get in. “Seal-boy, you’re in back. Not that I don’t like you, but it’s a chivalry thing.”
“I understand,” said Connor. He started toward the car, only to stop dead as two of Danny’s Barghests stuck their heads out the window. They were panting, venomous fangs retracted and tongues lolling.
“What?” demanded Danny. I pointed to the Barghests, fighting to keep myself from laughing. Understanding dawned. Danny grinned. “That’s Iggy and Lou. Don’t worry; they don’t bite unless you poke ’em. They may drool a little, but it ain’t acid or nothin’. That’s a myth.”
“They’re … Barghests,” said Connor carefully, in case we hadn’t noticed.
“Yeah.” Tone turning crafty, Danny asked, “You want one?”
It was too much. I burst out laughing, managing to say, “No, Danny, Connor doesn’t want a Barghest.” Then, because Danny looked so hurt by the idea that Connor wouldn’t want one of his pets, I added, “It wouldn’t get along with the rose goblins.”
“True enough,” said Danny, mollified. “Well, get on in.”
Connor shot me a frantic look. I shrugged, gesturing to the backseat as I climbed into the front. A little Barghest drool wasn’t going to kill him.
One of the Barghests stuck its head up between the seats. I scratched it behind the ears while we waited for Connor to get over his monster issues. “Which one’s this?”
“Lou,” said Danny. “She’s my good girl, aren’t you, Lou?” The Barghest commenced to licking his face with enthusiasm. “I tell you, even if I can find homes for the rest, these two are staying.”
“Good to know,” I said. The back door shut as Connor finally got in, and I was saved from making any more small talk about Danny’s literal “pet” project as the Bridge Troll hit the gas and sent us rocketing into traffic.
“Now,” he said. “Talk.”
So I talked. Starting with what I’d been doing at Shadowed Hills when I was arrested, and jumping from there to the trial. Describing the cell where I’d been held was more upsetting than I’d expected; by the time I finished, I was staring fixedly at my hands to keep myself from seeing the looks on their faces.
Silence held in the car for several minutes, broken only by the sound of traffic and the panting of the Barghests. Finally, Danny said, “Yeah, but … how in the hell’d you get run through the pencil sharpener?” I glanced up. Mistaking my surprise for confusion, he mimed a point over his own disguised ear. “Word on the street is you’ve got a hope chest you didn’t turn in to the authorities.”
That startled me into a sharp, barking laugh. “Are you kidding? People think I did this to
“People talk when they don’t got the truth,” he said implacably.
“I gave the only hope chest I’ve ever seen to the Queen,” I said. “My mother did this to me.”
“Your ma has a hope chest?”
“No, Danny. She did it to me on her own.”
“Oh.” Danny paused to mull this over. Finally, he said, “So your ma, she’s not Daoine Sidhe, then.”
“No.”
“Oh. Well.” He paused again before shrugging. “That makes a lot of sense.”
I stared at him. “Glad it makes sense to one of us.”
“C’mon, kiddo, you thought what? That Daoine Sidhe were made of rubber or something? Half the shit you do shoulda killed you
“He’s right,” said Connor, abruptly. “I don’t know why we didn’t see it.”
