“And she finds some of her self-respect where Titania hid it in the couch cushions,” said the Luidaeg dryly. “Good for you, Toby.”
I glanced at her, then looked back to Etienne. “If my mother sees me, she’ll turn us all in.”
“Yes,” he said, sounding relieved that he didn’t have to tell me that. “That’s why we’re out here.”
“Where’s Bridget?”
“Back at the house.” He glanced at Chelsea. “According to Chelsea, in the world she remembers, we were able to live together as a family here in Shadowed Hills. I’m doing my best to believe the things my daughter tells me, but that seems a step too far.”
“For this version of Faerie, maybe,” said Chelsea.
Someone knocked on the door, light and quick, in a staccato pattern. Etienne turned.
“Ah,” he said. “She’s gone. We are called to audience.”
He and Grianne moved to open the door, and the rest of us stepped through, emerging behind the dais where my uncle’s chair sat, presumably with my uncle currently included. There was no one else in evidence. I turned to blink at Etienne.
He shrugged as he followed us through. “I asked the household staff to alert me when I might have a moment’s privacy to speak to His Grace,” he said. “They generally know better than to linger when such requests are made.”
“Right,” I said.
It was easy to fall into the habit of wariness. When everyone could be at least two people—the one I knew and the one from a world I couldn’t remember—it was hard to trust what anyone said about this “other Faerie.” It would be easier when the world was singular again, even as I started to accept that the world as I knew it wouldn’t be the one remaining when this was all over. Or shouldn’t be, at least. This world was a lie. A beloved lie, but still a lie, and the real world was waiting.
Maybe Tybalt would glare at me less when I remembered why I loved him. Or maybe I was just the kind of person who thought it was a good idea to marry a man who didn’t know how to smile. Either way, I wasn’t going to force the rest of Faerie to live a lie just because I had issues with my own idea of a love life.
Together, we walked around to the front of the dais, where Uncle Sylvester was indeed waiting, slouched in his chair like always, a goblet of something in one hand. We were too far away for me to smell the contents, but after the night he’d surely had, and the day he was currently having, I’d have been surprised if they weren’t alcoholic.
He turned toward the sound of our footsteps, dull interest on his face, and bowed his head in acknowledgement of our presence.
“Ah, more strange faces, no doubt bringing more talk of other worlds and lives lived differently.” He scoffed, then took a deep drink from his goblet. “I want to disbelieve it, but I can’t.” His gaze shifted to Raysel. “And who are you meant to be? My poor dead sister, returned from the night-haunts to torment me for failing to save her when the sky fell down?”
“I’m . . .” Raysel faltered. “I’m really not sure how to answer that question without making things even worse.”
“How did Titania think, even for a minute, that she was making a better version of Faerie? Her version of Faerie is full of people who can’t exist and people she’s locked in little rooms where she won’t have to look at them any longer!” My voice was getting louder, and I knew it. My frustrations were starting to bubble over. “Better for her, maybe.”
That was when the doors slammed open, and a group of armed and armored figures in the Queen’s livery marched into the room, swords and polearms at the ready. The figure at the front of their company was sadly familiar, bronze hair glinting in the torchlight, the arms of Shadowed Hills on his breast and a triumphant expression on his face.
“I told you she’d be here,” said Quentin loudly, as the figures advanced on our position.
“You little—” I started to step forward. The Luidaeg’s hand on my shoulder stopped me.
“No,” she said. “We need you. If we lose you, the game’s up. Come on, we’re getting out of here.” She turned to Ginevra and said, “Take her where the Liar locked the door.”
She pushed me toward Ginevra, who grabbed my arm. “You’re going to hate this,” she said, apologetically. “I’m sorry.”
Then she fell backward, dragging me with her, and we were plunged into the darkest, coldest place I had ever been in my life. There was no air. I couldn’t breathe. I struggled against the hands that held me, trying to break away, and Ginevra responded by yanking on me harder, clearly trying to pull me along.
The only thing worse than being there would be being left there with no one to help me make my escape. I stopped fighting and allowed her to pull me, stumbling, through the dark. It felt like my hair was starting to freeze. It felt like everything was starting to freeze. I was going to die in the dark. We were both going to die in the dark. I was going to die in the dark, and I was never going to see my sister again—
And then we were breaking back out into light and air and I took a huge, gasping breath, even as I resumed fighting against her grasp, drumming my fists against Ginevra until she let me go and I dropped to my knees in the back garden of my mother’s tower, crushing one of Father’s mint plants beneath me. The scent of it filled the air, sharp and herbal-sweet, as I fought to get my breath back.
When I stopped feeling quite so much like I was going to suffocate, I raised my head and glared at Ginevra. “What the hell was that?” I demanded.
“The Shadow Roads,” she said. “They’re how the Cait Sidhe get around. Tybalt told me you’d traveled that way before, he said—”
“He doesn’t know anything about me.” I pushed myself to my feet, turning a slow circle. We were alone. “Great. And now we’ve lost the others. What are we supposed to—”
A circle opened in the air and Etienne tumbled out, the Luidaeg landing on top of him. She had an arrow jutting out of her arm, and while she didn’t look particularly bothered by it, she didn’t look happy, either.
The next portal followed a moment later, discharging Chelsea and Dean. “Sorry,” said Chelsea. “Overshot, wound up in Dreamer’s Glass for a second.”
“I said ‘the Liar,’” said the Luidaeg, picking herself up from the ground.
“Riordan lied plenty when I knew her,” said Chelsea, expression going hard.
The air shimmered just before Grianne stepped out of it, pulling Raysel along. Etienne rushed to her. “The Duke?” he demanded.
“Under arrest for sedition,” she said, sounding almost amused as she let Raysel go and brushed herself off with her hands. “Guess someone told Queenie he might be willing to talk to a renegade changeling. One of his knights had been acting erratically.” She raised an eyebrow, silently indicating that it couldn’t have been her, since she’d been gone all night.
“We have to go back,” said Etienne. “We have to rescue him!”
“From the Queen?” asked the Luidaeg wearily. “When you know she’s got the backing of the lady who created this whole mess? Please. It’s not going to happen. We need to focus on our mission. Titania’s going to be too busy trying to organize a Ride without horses to oversee a kangaroo court. Sylvester can wait out as much time as we have left on the clock.”