said, “I think it’s clear.”
“Of course it is,” said Timothy, shoving the door open and dragging his guitar case through. “She must have given up ages ago. I’m not that special.” But then a new thought occurred to him, and he turned back to Linden with a frown. “But if she was looking for a musician…why didn’t she take Rob instead?”
“Rob?” said Linden, and Timothy remembered: She’d never met Rob, she’d only heard him play at a distance.
“There was another guitar player at the hostel,” he said. “Older than me, but still pretty young-and he was good. Excellent, even. Why me, and not him?”
“I don’t know,” said Linden. “I don’t even know why she felt she had to-ow!” She hopped to one side and turned her foot over to look at it, wincing. Timothy was about to ask what was wrong when he saw that the slippers she’d been wearing in the restaurant had vanished, and that a chip of glass was sticking out of her heel.
“What happened to your shoes?” he asked.
Linden picked the shard out gingerly and rubbed her thumb across the wound. “They were just glamour,” she said as a dark bead of blood welled out. “I don’t have the right kind of magic to make real shoes, and keeping up the illusion was giving me a headache. Besides, I usually go barefoot at home-and how was I to know I’d be walking all over London tonight?”
Timothy swung his backpack down onto the pavement and rummaged through it until he’d found the old T- shirt he usually slept in. “Here,” he said, tearing a strip off the bottom and wrapping it around her foot. “This should help-but watch where you’re walking from now on.”
“That’s kind of you,” said Linden, limping a few steps experimentally, “but I have a better idea.” She gave herself a little shake and suddenly she was tiny again, wings unfolding from the deep V at the back of her jacket. “Ah yes,” she sighed as she hummed into the air, “that’s much better.”
Timothy watched, amazed, as she hovered around him. So small, and she darted so quickly-no wonder he’d mistaken her for a little brown bird…
The night breeze nipped at him, forcing him back to attention. He pulled an extra sweatshirt out of his backpack and tugged it on. It wasn’t as warm as the jacket he’d left behind at Sanctuary, but the extra layer definitely helped. “Right,” he said, picking up his guitar again. “Let’s go.”
Linden flitted to land on his shoulder and sat down, her faery form fitting easily into the space between his collarbone and his jaw. She was so small he hardly noticed the weight, but he could feel her solid warmth against his skin, undeniably real. Timothy let out a short laugh.
“What is it?” Her voice was a breath in his ear.
“It’s just…my cousin’s wife is a faery. I’m talking to a faery right now. And here I thought I was having a hard time just believing in God.”
“God?” Linden sounded curious. “You mean the Great Gardener?”
The Lord God planted a garden eastward, in Eden… “Yeah.”
“But you believe in me, don’t you?”
Timothy snorted out another laugh, this one more genuine. “It’s not like I have a choice! How can I not believe when I can see you right there?”
“Oh,” said Linden, and was silent. Then she said, “So you have to be able to see something to know it exists?”
Her puzzlement seemed genuine, but Timothy didn’t feel like getting into a lecture on the scientific method just now. “No,” he said, “of course there’s more to it than that. It’s just that I thought I knew what was real and what wasn’t, and now I don’t know what to think any-”
Linden gasped, but the warning came too late. All at once the air thickened around Timothy and he stopped in mid-stride, unable to move. He could only watch helplessly as a familiar figure spun itself out of the shadows and walked down the street toward him, smiling.
“Hello, my sweet,” said Veronica.
Six
In the glare of the streetlamp Veronica’s hair was pale as tallow, her skin the color of ashes. “You kept me searching a long time for you, human boy,” she remarked. “And yet, somehow…the look on your face makes it all worthwhile.”
Linden slid down behind Timothy’s shoulder and crouched on the top of his pack, willing herself not to panic. Veronica’s spell had bound Timothy but left her free to move: Perhaps that meant the other faery hadn’t seen her. So, if she stayed very still, maybe she’d have time to think of a plan…
“That drab little creature has left you unattended, has she?” said Veronica, trailing a finger down Timothy’s cheek. Linden expected him to flinch, but he only stared past her unblinking: Veronica’s spell had bound him so fast that he could not even speak. “I would call that a foolish mistake…though she was a fool to begin with, thinking she could steal you away from me.”
She brought her other hand to Timothy’s cheek, leaned forward-and her gaze fell on Linden. With a hiss she jerked back. “You! So tiny, and with wings, no less-what in the Empress’s name-?”
Stiffly Linden pulled herself upright, trying not to put too much weight on her injured foot. “Timothy is under my protection,” she said with all the dignity she could muster. “You cannot have him.”
Veronica breathed a laugh. “Little one, you amaze me. When I believed you had stolen the boy so you could take his music for yourself, I admired your impudence even as I swore to make you pay for it. But now you ask me to believe you were trying to protect him? A mere human, with nothing in his head but music and ignorance?” Her lips compressed. “Come now, tell me the truth and I may yet spare your life.”
The menace in the other faery’s voice made Linden tremble, but her outrage was stronger than her fear. “I mean what I say,” she retorted, and then, summoning up all her courage and her faith in Knife’s example, she added, “I will fight you if I have to.”
Veronica’s skeptical look shaded into contempt. “Then you must have lost what little wits you ever possessed. To blatantly display your faery nature by taking this ridiculous little form, and to ally yourself with a human in defiance of the Empress’s decree-”
“Empress?” Linden interrupted. “Who is this Empress you keep talking about?”
“Not know the Empress?” Veronica’s eyes narrowed. “Do you mock me? Or are you testing my loyalty? If you think I could ever be tempted to show mercy to rebels and humans, then be assured that I will prove you wrong- right now.”
With a flick of her fingers she knocked Linden from Timothy’s shoulder, sending her tumbling backward into the air. Then she seized Timothy’s face between her hands Linden cried out and flung herself forward, but there was no need. Something like a small bird flashed out from the darkness and struck Veronica across the back of the head; her eyes glazed over, and she slid to the pavement.
“Veronica?” whispered Linden, hovering above the fallen faery. The bird thing had vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and Timothy still hadn’t moved; she had no idea how to free him from the spell. But then a hooded figure stepped out from between the buildings, and she caught the unmistakable scent of another faery. With surprisingly powerful-looking hands the stranger tore Veronica’s spell to glittering tatters until Timothy gasped and stumbled forward, free.
Linden’s heart leaped. “Don’t go!” she called out as the stranger backed away. “Please, I need to talk to you!”
The other faery hesitated, then made a beckoning gesture and vanished back into the darkness. Linden was about to follow-then noticed that Timothy was still standing there, apparently too dazed to walk. She gritted her teeth and willed herself large again, then grabbed Timothy’s wrist and pulled him along with her.
The strange faery led them through the alley, past a row of metal bins overflowing with rubbish and walls scrawled with painted symbols Linden didn’t recognize. All she could do was limp along with Timothy in tow, wincing as cold grime crunched beneath her feet, and praying she didn’t step on anything else sharp.
The passageway led them onto another street, where they walked a few more paces before stopping in front
