Chimes at Midnight
Page 69
“This is all your fault.” Arden swung back around to face me. “None of this would have happened if you hadn’t tracked me down. I don’t care how much you thought you needed me. You had no right.”
“You said ‘my Kingdom,’” I said.
“What?”
“Just now. You said Quentin’s parents were in charge of the Kingdom your Kingdom answered to.” I shrugged a little. “You know this is your fight, Arden, and you know you don’t have any other choice. You can hate me if you want—I’m sort of used to the Queen hating me—but you also know that I’m here because it’s time for you to step up and do your job.”
“We do not have the luxury of choosing our duty,” said Quentin, in a tone I’d never heard from him before. In that moment, he sounded like a Prince. “Faerie calls. It is your burden, and your blessing, to answer.”
“And while you’re doing that, I can go upstairs and save Jude from the people who want to know where you are,” said Madden, with blissful unconcern.
We all turned to look at him. “What?” I said, after a few seconds of bemused silence.
Madden shrugged. “There are people upstairs talking to Jude. They’re being pretty nasty, since she won’t tell them where you are. I don’t think she knows.”
Shit. “The Queen’s guards must have followed us here. But how . . . ?”
“Your shoes.” Madden again. Again, we all turned to stare at him.
“What about her shoes, Madden?” asked Arden.
“They’re all spelled up. They smell like secrets.” Madden pointed at my feet, in case we didn’t know where shoes were typically kept. “I think they followed your shoes.”
“My . . . oh, Oberon’s eyes.” I bent, hastily untying my laces before yanking the sneakers off my feet. “I’m an idiot. I’m an idiot and a fool and every other word you can come up with for stupid. Here.” I thrust my shoes toward Arden as I straightened—my shoes, which I held by the blood-red laces the Queen had tied them with when she transformed my dress, back at the beginning of this whole mess. I’d been so relieved not to have another pair of sneakers transmuted into high heels that I hadn’t stopped to wonder why she’d been merciful. I’d just kept on wearing them.
Arden frowned. “What do you want me to do with these?”
“Teleport as far away from here as you can and dump them,” I said. “Aim for Petaluma. If the Queen’s guards are using the shoes to track us, they’ll go after you.”
“This is idiotic,” said Arden . . . but she took the shoes. “Madden, don’t let them leave.”
“Okay,” said Madden.
Arden turned, her hand sketching an archway in the air. If I squinted, I could almost see the shimmer on the other side—and then she stepped through it and was gone. Almost in the same second there was a clicking sound from above us as someone started to turn the doorknob.
“Shit,” I hissed, and grabbed Quentin’s arm. “Madden, Danny, come on!” I didn’t look to see whether they were following as I took off across the basement, heading for the painted canvas “wall” separating Arden’s makeshift apartment from the rest of the room. If we could just make it through before anyone came down the stairs, we’d be hidden; we might be able to evade the guards, and Jude wouldn’t get hurt. She didn’t deserve to get hurt.
But when Faerie and the human worlds collide, someone always gets hurt. That’s just the way things are. I was a fool to think that it could ever be any different.
I touched the firefly hidden in my hair as I ran, trying to force myself to see the gap in the illusion. Come on, come on . . . I thought—and there it was, a narrow crack in what should have been empty air. I reached out and pulled it open wide enough for me to fit through, hauling Quentin in my wake. Danny was close behind us. Once he was through, he grasped the two pieces of canvas and pulled them shut, holding the seam tight with his massive fingers.
“Where’s Madden?” I whispered.
“He didn’t move,” Danny whispered back.
The sound of footsteps on the stairs cut off any further questions. “—there’s anyone down here,” said Jude dubiously. “Ardith didn’t come in today, and Madden is on his break.”
A dog barked joyful greeting.
“What is that?” demanded an unfamiliar male voice.
“That’s Madden’s dog, Buddy,” said Jude. “We let him stay down here sometimes, when Madden’s working short shifts. Hi, Buddy. Who’s a good boy, hmm? Who is it?”
Madden barked again, apparently asserting that he was, in fact, a good boy. Claws clacked against the basement floor. I’ve known enough canines in my time that it wasn’t hard to picture him jumping up on the Queen’s guards, tongue lolling, tail wagging madly.
Cu Sidhe are interesting. Like Cait Sidhe, sometimes they look a lot like Daoine Sidhe with animal characteristics, although they always have that red and white candy cane hair. Unlike Cait Sidhe, they have two distinct dog forms. One, the form most of them are born in, is a tall sighthound with white fur over most of its body, and red at the ears, tail, and paws. The other is, well, a different kind of dog. It varies from Cu Sidhe to Cu Sidhe, but when they’re in their second dog forms, there’s nothing fae about them. They look like any other mutt enjoying the wonders of the dog park.
Jude seemed to think Madden was a perfectly normal dog. That meant he had to be in his second form—and that we might have a chance at getting out of this unseen. It all depended on how good the Coblynau illusion hiding Arden’s “apartment” really was, and whether getting rid of my shoes would actually make the guards stop following us.
Carefully, I stepped back from the curtain, my bare feet making no sound on the threadbare rug as I moved to sit on the bottom bunk of Arden’s bed. Danny remained where he was, frozen in the act of pinching the curtain closed. After a few seconds, Quentin followed me, taking a seat to my right. I put an arm on his shoulder, not looking at him, and listened to the sound of Madden barking and jumping on the guards, whose muttered exclamations were becoming increasingly frustrated—and increasingly close.
“I told you, there’s no one down here.” Jude again. “I’m not sure why it was so important that you look for your friends in my basement, but I’m going to need to ask you to leave now.”
“You said ‘my Kingdom,’” I said.
“What?”
“Just now. You said Quentin’s parents were in charge of the Kingdom your Kingdom answered to.” I shrugged a little. “You know this is your fight, Arden, and you know you don’t have any other choice. You can hate me if you want—I’m sort of used to the Queen hating me—but you also know that I’m here because it’s time for you to step up and do your job.”
“We do not have the luxury of choosing our duty,” said Quentin, in a tone I’d never heard from him before. In that moment, he sounded like a Prince. “Faerie calls. It is your burden, and your blessing, to answer.”
“And while you’re doing that, I can go upstairs and save Jude from the people who want to know where you are,” said Madden, with blissful unconcern.
We all turned to look at him. “What?” I said, after a few seconds of bemused silence.
Madden shrugged. “There are people upstairs talking to Jude. They’re being pretty nasty, since she won’t tell them where you are. I don’t think she knows.”
Shit. “The Queen’s guards must have followed us here. But how . . . ?”
“Your shoes.” Madden again. Again, we all turned to stare at him.
“What about her shoes, Madden?” asked Arden.
“They’re all spelled up. They smell like secrets.” Madden pointed at my feet, in case we didn’t know where shoes were typically kept. “I think they followed your shoes.”
“My . . . oh, Oberon’s eyes.” I bent, hastily untying my laces before yanking the sneakers off my feet. “I’m an idiot. I’m an idiot and a fool and every other word you can come up with for stupid. Here.” I thrust my shoes toward Arden as I straightened—my shoes, which I held by the blood-red laces the Queen had tied them with when she transformed my dress, back at the beginning of this whole mess. I’d been so relieved not to have another pair of sneakers transmuted into high heels that I hadn’t stopped to wonder why she’d been merciful. I’d just kept on wearing them.
Arden frowned. “What do you want me to do with these?”
“Teleport as far away from here as you can and dump them,” I said. “Aim for Petaluma. If the Queen’s guards are using the shoes to track us, they’ll go after you.”
“This is idiotic,” said Arden . . . but she took the shoes. “Madden, don’t let them leave.”
“Okay,” said Madden.
Arden turned, her hand sketching an archway in the air. If I squinted, I could almost see the shimmer on the other side—and then she stepped through it and was gone. Almost in the same second there was a clicking sound from above us as someone started to turn the doorknob.
“Shit,” I hissed, and grabbed Quentin’s arm. “Madden, Danny, come on!” I didn’t look to see whether they were following as I took off across the basement, heading for the painted canvas “wall” separating Arden’s makeshift apartment from the rest of the room. If we could just make it through before anyone came down the stairs, we’d be hidden; we might be able to evade the guards, and Jude wouldn’t get hurt. She didn’t deserve to get hurt.
But when Faerie and the human worlds collide, someone always gets hurt. That’s just the way things are. I was a fool to think that it could ever be any different.
I touched the firefly hidden in my hair as I ran, trying to force myself to see the gap in the illusion. Come on, come on . . . I thought—and there it was, a narrow crack in what should have been empty air. I reached out and pulled it open wide enough for me to fit through, hauling Quentin in my wake. Danny was close behind us. Once he was through, he grasped the two pieces of canvas and pulled them shut, holding the seam tight with his massive fingers.
“Where’s Madden?” I whispered.
“He didn’t move,” Danny whispered back.
The sound of footsteps on the stairs cut off any further questions. “—there’s anyone down here,” said Jude dubiously. “Ardith didn’t come in today, and Madden is on his break.”
A dog barked joyful greeting.
“What is that?” demanded an unfamiliar male voice.
“That’s Madden’s dog, Buddy,” said Jude. “We let him stay down here sometimes, when Madden’s working short shifts. Hi, Buddy. Who’s a good boy, hmm? Who is it?”
Madden barked again, apparently asserting that he was, in fact, a good boy. Claws clacked against the basement floor. I’ve known enough canines in my time that it wasn’t hard to picture him jumping up on the Queen’s guards, tongue lolling, tail wagging madly.
Cu Sidhe are interesting. Like Cait Sidhe, sometimes they look a lot like Daoine Sidhe with animal characteristics, although they always have that red and white candy cane hair. Unlike Cait Sidhe, they have two distinct dog forms. One, the form most of them are born in, is a tall sighthound with white fur over most of its body, and red at the ears, tail, and paws. The other is, well, a different kind of dog. It varies from Cu Sidhe to Cu Sidhe, but when they’re in their second dog forms, there’s nothing fae about them. They look like any other mutt enjoying the wonders of the dog park.
Jude seemed to think Madden was a perfectly normal dog. That meant he had to be in his second form—and that we might have a chance at getting out of this unseen. It all depended on how good the Coblynau illusion hiding Arden’s “apartment” really was, and whether getting rid of my shoes would actually make the guards stop following us.
Carefully, I stepped back from the curtain, my bare feet making no sound on the threadbare rug as I moved to sit on the bottom bunk of Arden’s bed. Danny remained where he was, frozen in the act of pinching the curtain closed. After a few seconds, Quentin followed me, taking a seat to my right. I put an arm on his shoulder, not looking at him, and listened to the sound of Madden barking and jumping on the guards, whose muttered exclamations were becoming increasingly frustrated—and increasingly close.
“I told you, there’s no one down here.” Jude again. “I’m not sure why it was so important that you look for your friends in my basement, but I’m going to need to ask you to leave now.”
