The Winter Long
Page 70
“Ah.” It wasn’t as much of a shock as I’d expected it to be: I’d already been almost certain. This just confirmed it. “And Luna was able to resist her as much as she did because . . . ?”
“Because she was not there when Evening first arrived. She remained surrounded by her roses, as she said, which allowed her to resist any call that Evening might send. Further, she had already been exposed at such great length to her own parents, whose Firstborn nature would normally have overwhelmed her—but most of all, because Evening was not Luna’s original. Any of the Daoine Sidhe would have trouble denying Evening if given a direct command.” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I suspect that this was meant to make the Firstborn better able to control their descendants. I shall have to ask fair Amandine how well that has worked for her when I see her next.”
“If my mother turns you into a lemon tree, I’m not going to yell at her,” I said, somewhat numbly. My mind was far away, and my body took advantage of that brief absence to shovel several bites of chicken and potatoes into my mouth. I barely tasted any of it. Swallowing, I asked, “So why couldn’t Grianne resist her? The Candela aren’t descended from Titania.”
“No, but Grianne swears her allegiance to Sylvester, who is Evening’s to command.”
“Etienne resisted. He swears his allegiance to Sylvester.”
“I have no idea why he was able to achieve that state of grace. Wheels within wheels.” Tybalt sighed. “It’s all very troublesome.”
“And it’s just going to get worse,” I said grimly. “Can we leave the boys here?”
Tybalt blinked. “Quentin is a friend of this Court, and is well chaperoned by the presence of my nephew, but you’re generally loath to be parted from him. Why—”
“He’s Daoine Sidhe. I don’t want that bitch telling him what to do.” There was a chance his exposure to so many other Firstborn—from the Luidaeg to Blind Michael—would make him resistant. I didn’t want to risk it. I took a bite of salad before adding, “I’d hide all the Daoine Sidhe I know here, if that wouldn’t be abusing your hospitality.”
“I appreciate your concern for the limits of my charity,” said Tybalt dryly.
“I try to be considerate,” I said, before inhaling another few bites of chicken. My hunger wasn’t abating. The magic I’d been doing had taken more out of me than I thought. At least the food seemed to be taking the edge off of my headache. “But yeah. I don’t want Quentin near her. If he can be hidden here for a little while, that’s for the best.”
“He will object.”
“He’ll lose.”
Tybalt raised an eyebrow. “You sound remarkably sure of yourself. Raj—”
“Is Cait Sidhe. Quentin is a squire and a prince of the Divided Courts. His upbringing was a little more hardcore on ‘listen to your elders,’ and while I’m aware that I’ve done a lot to damage his early training, I think some of it is still in there.” I shrugged. “He’s not going to be happy. He’s going to give in.”
“You speak of ‘leaving the boys here’ and carrying on with your current quest, but I admit, October, I’m somewhat unclear as to what that quest is.” Tybalt leaned across the table to transfer half of his chicken onto my plate. I didn’t object. “Simon is in town, and this is troubling. Evening is returned from the dead, and was never dead to begin with. The Luidaeg is injured. We know these things are connected, and we know that they are terrible, but none of them provides a clear or immediate course of action. Running to the Queen in the Mists seems logical, except that it might draw our enemies to her, and while Evening is not her parent and original, she’s still no match for one of the Firstborn.”
“I know. We need to keep at least one place aside from the Court of Cats safe for our allies, and since we know Evening could eat Arden for breakfast, that means we need to keep Arden off of Evening’s radar for as long as possible.” I put a hand over my eyes, taking comfort in the temporary darkness. “I’m happier when I have a bad guy I can hit. Okay. Let’s look at this logically: both Simon and the Luidaeg were geased by Evening. We know that Evening was able to somehow know when the Luidaeg said something she wasn’t supposed to—she shouldn’t have been able to confirm that the geas had been cast by someone I knew. And when the Luidaeg broke the rules, Evening punished her for it.”
We both paused for a moment. I had no doubt that Tybalt’s thoughts were following the same dark path as mine, remembering the shattered condition of the Luidaeg’s apartment, and the condition she’d been in when we found her. The Luidaeg was one of the most powerful people we knew. The fact that Evening had been able to take her out was terrifying.
“Wait.” I dropped my hand, looking at him. “Evening is Titania’s daughter.”
Tybalt frowned. “Yes, and?”
“Raysel was able to make the Luidaeg stand down just by saying she was a descendant of Titania. The Luidaeg can’t raise her hand against Titania’s children. She’s said so before, and she can’t lie. That’s how Evening was able to beat the holy crap out of her without bleeding all over the place and leaving me a trail to follow. The Luidaeg didn’t fight back.”
Tybalt’s frown deepened. “If that’s true . . . someone must have bound her so. Someone who did not much care whether she lived or died, given what I’ve heard about the treatment of the children of Maeve by the children of Titania.”
“Yeah,” I said. My plate was somehow empty again, and my stomach was no longer screaming at me. I took that as a sign that I was ready to get up, and stood, grateful to find that I was right: my legs took my weight without protesting. My headache was barely a throb. “I’m thinking it was either Evening herself, or her mother. I can’t see Oberon doing that to one of his own kids. But it doesn’t really matter either way, I guess: the Luidaeg is bound, and she couldn’t fight back.”
“So our Evening is not only a liar, but a coward.” Tybalt shook his head as he stood. “Truly, it seems that I came into your life at precisely the correct moment.”
I blinked. “Okay, you’re going to have to take that one back a few steps for me.”
“Because she was not there when Evening first arrived. She remained surrounded by her roses, as she said, which allowed her to resist any call that Evening might send. Further, she had already been exposed at such great length to her own parents, whose Firstborn nature would normally have overwhelmed her—but most of all, because Evening was not Luna’s original. Any of the Daoine Sidhe would have trouble denying Evening if given a direct command.” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I suspect that this was meant to make the Firstborn better able to control their descendants. I shall have to ask fair Amandine how well that has worked for her when I see her next.”
“If my mother turns you into a lemon tree, I’m not going to yell at her,” I said, somewhat numbly. My mind was far away, and my body took advantage of that brief absence to shovel several bites of chicken and potatoes into my mouth. I barely tasted any of it. Swallowing, I asked, “So why couldn’t Grianne resist her? The Candela aren’t descended from Titania.”
“No, but Grianne swears her allegiance to Sylvester, who is Evening’s to command.”
“Etienne resisted. He swears his allegiance to Sylvester.”
“I have no idea why he was able to achieve that state of grace. Wheels within wheels.” Tybalt sighed. “It’s all very troublesome.”
“And it’s just going to get worse,” I said grimly. “Can we leave the boys here?”
Tybalt blinked. “Quentin is a friend of this Court, and is well chaperoned by the presence of my nephew, but you’re generally loath to be parted from him. Why—”
“He’s Daoine Sidhe. I don’t want that bitch telling him what to do.” There was a chance his exposure to so many other Firstborn—from the Luidaeg to Blind Michael—would make him resistant. I didn’t want to risk it. I took a bite of salad before adding, “I’d hide all the Daoine Sidhe I know here, if that wouldn’t be abusing your hospitality.”
“I appreciate your concern for the limits of my charity,” said Tybalt dryly.
“I try to be considerate,” I said, before inhaling another few bites of chicken. My hunger wasn’t abating. The magic I’d been doing had taken more out of me than I thought. At least the food seemed to be taking the edge off of my headache. “But yeah. I don’t want Quentin near her. If he can be hidden here for a little while, that’s for the best.”
“He will object.”
“He’ll lose.”
Tybalt raised an eyebrow. “You sound remarkably sure of yourself. Raj—”
“Is Cait Sidhe. Quentin is a squire and a prince of the Divided Courts. His upbringing was a little more hardcore on ‘listen to your elders,’ and while I’m aware that I’ve done a lot to damage his early training, I think some of it is still in there.” I shrugged. “He’s not going to be happy. He’s going to give in.”
“You speak of ‘leaving the boys here’ and carrying on with your current quest, but I admit, October, I’m somewhat unclear as to what that quest is.” Tybalt leaned across the table to transfer half of his chicken onto my plate. I didn’t object. “Simon is in town, and this is troubling. Evening is returned from the dead, and was never dead to begin with. The Luidaeg is injured. We know these things are connected, and we know that they are terrible, but none of them provides a clear or immediate course of action. Running to the Queen in the Mists seems logical, except that it might draw our enemies to her, and while Evening is not her parent and original, she’s still no match for one of the Firstborn.”
“I know. We need to keep at least one place aside from the Court of Cats safe for our allies, and since we know Evening could eat Arden for breakfast, that means we need to keep Arden off of Evening’s radar for as long as possible.” I put a hand over my eyes, taking comfort in the temporary darkness. “I’m happier when I have a bad guy I can hit. Okay. Let’s look at this logically: both Simon and the Luidaeg were geased by Evening. We know that Evening was able to somehow know when the Luidaeg said something she wasn’t supposed to—she shouldn’t have been able to confirm that the geas had been cast by someone I knew. And when the Luidaeg broke the rules, Evening punished her for it.”
We both paused for a moment. I had no doubt that Tybalt’s thoughts were following the same dark path as mine, remembering the shattered condition of the Luidaeg’s apartment, and the condition she’d been in when we found her. The Luidaeg was one of the most powerful people we knew. The fact that Evening had been able to take her out was terrifying.
“Wait.” I dropped my hand, looking at him. “Evening is Titania’s daughter.”
Tybalt frowned. “Yes, and?”
“Raysel was able to make the Luidaeg stand down just by saying she was a descendant of Titania. The Luidaeg can’t raise her hand against Titania’s children. She’s said so before, and she can’t lie. That’s how Evening was able to beat the holy crap out of her without bleeding all over the place and leaving me a trail to follow. The Luidaeg didn’t fight back.”
Tybalt’s frown deepened. “If that’s true . . . someone must have bound her so. Someone who did not much care whether she lived or died, given what I’ve heard about the treatment of the children of Maeve by the children of Titania.”
“Yeah,” I said. My plate was somehow empty again, and my stomach was no longer screaming at me. I took that as a sign that I was ready to get up, and stood, grateful to find that I was right: my legs took my weight without protesting. My headache was barely a throb. “I’m thinking it was either Evening herself, or her mother. I can’t see Oberon doing that to one of his own kids. But it doesn’t really matter either way, I guess: the Luidaeg is bound, and she couldn’t fight back.”
“So our Evening is not only a liar, but a coward.” Tybalt shook his head as he stood. “Truly, it seems that I came into your life at precisely the correct moment.”
I blinked. “Okay, you’re going to have to take that one back a few steps for me.”
