“What is it? Calm down and tell me.”
She froze, eyes filling with tears, and whispered, “It’s Lily. She’s sick, Toby, she’s really sick, and we don’t know what to do.”
The world came to a sudden crashing halt. “Lily’s sick?”
Lily was Marcia’s liege, the Lady of the Tea Gardens—and an Undine. The Undine are biologically weird, even for Faerie, since their bodies are made entirely of water. Water doesn’t understand illness. It can get polluted, but it can’t get sick. Which meant that if Marcia was right, something was terribly wrong.
“She’s sick, really sick. She didn’t know who I was, so I … ” Her voice dropped until it was barely audible. “Please come.”
“Of course I’ll come.” I hesitated, looking at the crowd around us. Many were staring openly, and those that weren’t were probably listening in. Dropping my voice, I asked, “Tybalt? What’s the Queen going to do if there’s a sudden exodus out of here?”
His eyes narrowed as he caught my meaning. “Nothing we, or the Tea Gardens, would be likely to enjoy.”
“Right,” I said. Fae don’t have paparazzi, but my elevation to the peerage was the news of the hour. If I left now, my destination might draw an unhealthy amount of attention, and the Tea Gardens were an independent fiefdom. The last thing they needed was the full focus of the Queen. With Lily out of commission, they’d have no way to stop the “proper nobility” from taking over. We needed a distraction. I glanced around our little group.
May provided a distraction just by existing, and Tybalt was more than capable of causing a public disturbance if he was given the right motivation. I dropped my voice even lower. “Danny, can you get May home?” He nodded curtly. “Okay. When things calm down, I’m going to need you to do that. In the meantime, you’re going to make sure nobody thinks to follow us to the Tea Gardens. Marcia, how did you get here?”
Our conspiratorial little knot must have looked odd from the outside, but the Tylwyth Teg who’d accompanied Marcia seemed to be taking it in stride. He answered for her, holding up what looked like a stubby handmade broom as he said, “We took the yarrow broom express.”
“Does it seat three?”
“What?” said May and Danny, almost in unison. Tybalt didn’t say anything. He just nodded, understanding spreading across his features. He didn’t look like he approved, but at least he understood. That would have to be good enough, for now.
“I think so,” said the Tylwyth Teg, looking bemused. “This may not be the best time for an introduction, but it seems polite. I’m Walther Davies.”
“Toby Daye, hi,” I said, and turned to Tybalt. “Ready to make a scene?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Do I have a choice?”
“Not really. To quote something someone said to me recently, in the interests of friendship, I hope you’ll forgive what I’m about to do.” I drew back my hand and slapped him across the face. The smack of flesh striking flesh echoed through the hall. Conversations stopped as people whipped around to stare at us. Raising my voice to something just below a shout, I snarled, “You asshole!”
Tybalt snarled back, almost quickly enough to conceal the amusement in his eyes. “I only offered the respect that you have earned,
May was quick to grab her cue. She rounded on Tybalt, interposing herself between us and jabbing a finger at his chest as she started yelling. I didn’t catch what she was saying; it was too difficult to make out the words under the muttering of the crowd and Danny’s shouts for them to cut it out and act like adults. I turned to Marcia and Walther.
“Let’s go.”
I started for the exit at a fast trot, with the two of them close behind. As I’d expected, the sight of a Fetch and the local King of Cats getting into it was fascinating enough that no one seemed to remember what actually started the scene. No one stopped us as we made our way out of the Queen’s knowe and into the chilly mortal night.
FOUR
THE SPELL THE QUEEN CAST ON MY CLOTHES was transformation, not illusion; it didn’t break when we left her knowe. I made the trip from the beach to Golden Gate Park in the ball gown, clinging for dear life to the back of Walther’s makeshift “broom.” Marcia rode sandwiched between us, arms locked around Walther’s waist and eyes squeezed resolutely shut. I didn’t blame her. Tylwyth Teg can fly, but they aren’t good illusionists—in order to keep us from being spotted, Walther had to stay six stories up for the entire flight.
Spring in the Bay Area starts around the end of February, but San Francisco is a coastal city. It gets cold fast once the sun goes down, and most dresses aren’t built to combat extreme wind chill. I was shivering uncontrollably by the time Walther brought us in for a landing inside the Tea Garden walls. So was Marcia, whose trendy jeans and lace tank top gave her almost no protection against the elements.
“Sorry about that.” Walther stepped off the broom, turning to help Marcia dismount. “Are you both okay?”
“Are Tylwyth Teg self-defrosting or something?” I climbed down, shaking my skirt back into a semblance of order. “I’m fine. Where’s Lily?”
“Lily’s in the knowe.” Marcia paused, swallowing hard before she added, “None of us know what to do. That’s why I came to find you.”
I looked around the darkened garden before returning my attention to Marcia. She had moved to lean against Walther. “Did Lily tell you to do that?”
“No.” She shook her head. “We just … ”
“We didn’t have any other options,” said Walther.
The statement hung between us, utterly true, and utterly tragic. Independent Courts like Lily’s enjoy a lot of freedom … at a price. There’s no one to help them when things go wrong, and someone’s always watching them, waiting for signs of weakness. Most of them hold their land through a mixture of inertia and looking like it would be too much trouble to take them down. That’s why we had to deflect the Queen’s Court onto something more scandalously interesting. If the Queen took an interest …
“Well.” I took a breath. “Does she know I’m here?”
“I don’t know,” said Marcia.
“Okay.” I took the lead as we walked toward the moon bridge that served as the entry to Lily’s knowe. “Can I ask a few questions before we go in?”
“Anything,” said Walther.
“Well, for starters, who the hell are you? I’ve never seen you before, and now you’re one of the people coming to tell me there’s an emergency. It seems a little—” I stopped as I realized where that statement wanted to go.
“Fishy?” finished Walther, not seeming to notice Marcia’s wince.
I shot him a sharp look. His expression was entirely innocent. “Yeah,” I said. “That.”
Walther shrugged. “I moved to the Bay Area last semester, for work. I didn’t want to jump right into working for any of the local nobles, and Lily agreed to let me hang around if I’d do some odd jobs for her while I get settled. You can check my references, if you want.”
“I may do that. For right now, when did this start? Was it tonight, or earlier?”
“We don’t know,” said Marcia miserably. “She didn’t say anything about being sick, but she’s been really quiet for the last few days.”
“Pieria hurt her wing. I went to get Lily, and I found her passed out on the pavilion floor.” Walther looked away. “I managed to wake her, but she didn’t remember who I was. I got worried after that, and took some of her water for testing. It’s clean. I don’t know what’s going on.”
“I really don’t know what you expect from me.” I started up the moon bridge, pulling myself higher one step at a time. The branches began snarling together overhead, weaving the roof of Lily’s knowe and shutting out the mortal world.
