He still didn’t know about Quentin. I schooled my face back into something more neutral, and said, “You didn’t tell me you were related to the royal family of Silences.”
“I’m Tylwyth Teg. So were they. By definition, I’m at least distantly related to them.” Walther walked over to join us, bending to offer Lowri his hand. “Seriously, get up. I know where Torsten is, and he’s not here.”
“Dead?” Lowri asked, lifting her head and looking up at him.
“Sleeping,” said Walther, still holding out his hand. “I saw him fall. The arrow caught him in his shoulder, and he toppled from his horse, and he didn’t get back up. But he wasn’t dead. Still isn’t, unless the usurper chose to kill them all when they woke.”
“Wait—what do you mean, when they woke?” I asked.
“The war was fought shortly after the death of King Gilad,” said Walther. “That was more than a hundred years ago. Elf-shot, even when it’s mixed by a master, can only put someone to sleep for a hundred years. Any members of the royal family who were elf-shot during the war, rather than being killed outright, would have woken up sometime in the last few years.”
“But killing them now would be a violation of Oberon’s Law, which is bad, so there’s a good chance the current King of Silences just had them elf-shot again instead,” I said slowly. Oberon’s Law allowed for killing purebloods during times of war. Any other time . . . it was the one thing that was truly forbidden. “Sweet Titania, that’s messed up.”
“Tell me about it,” said Walther. Lowri finally took his hand. He helped her off the ground, smiling wryly, and said, “I’m Walther Davies. Your prince is in another castle.”
She looked at him blankly. “What?”
Walther sighed and let her go. “See, this is why I never have anyone to talk to. My students have ruined me.”
“This is fun and all, but we should probably be heading for the knowe,” I said. “Lowri, is there anyone who can help me with my suitcase? It’s pretty heavy.”
“I’ll get it,” she said, and started toward the open trunk of my car. I shrugged and followed her. Glastig are a hell of a lot stronger than they look, and what was almost too much for me to carry would be nothing to her.
As I had expected, she hefted my suitcase like it was nothing. I retrieved the backpack that held my toiletries and the sword I tried my best to avoid wearing. Belting it around my waist made all this feel real. This was happening. Whether I liked it or not, it was happening.
May, meanwhile, was eyeing Walther suspiciously. “Toby’s right, though,” she said. “You never told us you were related to the ruling family of Silences.”
He shrugged. “You never asked.”
Lowri walked back over to them, carrying my suitcase in one hand. “If you’ll leave your keys with me, we can move your car to a more secure parking space,” she said. “Duchess Lorden has agreed to grant us the use of a lot she owns near here.”
“Of course the Undersea owns a parking lot near Muir Woods,” I said, pulling my keys out of my pocket and dropping them into Lowri’s waiting palm. “Why wouldn’t they? Mermaids need a place to keep their cars, right?”
“Doesn’t everyone?” asked Lowri. She started walking. Lacking anything better to do, and any way to get out of the situation, the rest of us moved with her. Lowri, Tybalt, and I took the lead, while May, Quentin, and Walther lagged behind—May and Quentin because of exhaustion and luggage, Walther because he wasn’t in a hurry. I couldn’t blame him. He was as trapped as the rest of us.
Lowri glanced back a few times as we walked. Finally, when we were starting up the side of the hill, she said, “I’m not sure he is who he says he is.”
“You mean Walther,” I said.
“Yes. He looks so much like Prince Torsten . . .”
“If he says he’s not your missing prince, he’s not. The person who introduced me to him vouched for him. She said he was a good guy, and she never said anything about him being a prince in hiding. I think she would have told me.” Walther had started his time in the Bay Area in the Japanese Tea Gardens, which had been held by a woman named Lily. She was an Undine, and had known my mother for years before I was born. She’d always been good to me. If he’d been keeping secrets that could harm me, she would have said so. I had faith in that.
“I thought I knew all the members of the royal family,” said Lowri. “I was training to serve in the guard. Torsten had many cousins, but none by the name of ‘Walther.’”
“So he changed his name to keep himself out of trouble,” I said. “It wouldn’t be the first time. Leave it be, all right? He’s coming with me, and I’ve trusted him with my life before.”
“As you say,” said Lowri—but she glanced back at Walther one more time, frowning like she knew the answer she wanted was somehow just out of reach.
I shook my head and kept on climbing.
Arden was waiting in the clearing at the top of the hill, standing a good ten feet outside the doors of her own knowe. Her guards were behind her, holding the open door. It struck me that this was the first time since Lowri had left the false queen for the true one when I had seen her on duty but outside of her armor. She really was standing as Arden’s seneschal, at least for now.
Madden’s sister Tia was also there, holding herself slightly apart, watching the scene with cold eyes. She looked angry. I understood the sentiment.
“Are these to be your companions?” asked Arden, eyes going from me to the small group straggling up the hill behind me. “I’d offer you my guard, but I can’t do that. I need you to understand that whatever happens once you leave my lands will be avenged, but it won’t be prevented.”
“I do understand that,” I said. If the King of Silences had me arrested, elf-shot, or even killed, Arden could respond. She couldn’t send someone with me to make sure that it never happened in the first place. Pureblood politics are strange at the best of times, and unbearably complicated all the rest of the time. “I need something from you, though.”
Arden blinked. “What’s that?”
“Blood. I have an alchemist,” I indicated Walther, “and being able to access your magic might make the difference between a strategic retreat and a massacre. Nolan’s would be better, but yours would be good.”
She relaxed marginally. “We anticipated this request. Tia?” The Cu Sidhe stepped forward, handing Arden a carved redwood box. Arden handed it, in turn, to me, indicating that I should open it.
Lifting the lid revealed four crystal vials, each full of a dark red substance that I had no trouble accepting as the Queen’s blood. It would hold her power. If Quentin or I consumed it, we could use it to open teleport gates, just like she did. After Walther had treated it, anyone would be able to use it that way, although the power wouldn’t last as long for anyone who didn’t have natural skill at blood magic. That blood could be our escape route, if things got as bad as I was afraid they were going to.
“Is that enough?” Arden asked. “My brother can’t consent, so I’m afraid I’d prefer not to involve him.”
“It should be,” I said, and passed the box to Walther, who somehow made it vanish inside his coat. “If it’s not, I guess we’ll find out.”
But Arden wasn’t done. “Are you sure you should be taking the King of Dreaming Cats?” she asked, her gaze going to Tybalt. “His presence states—”
“You can neither prevent me nor forbid me; I am not yours to command,” said Tybalt. His words were dangerously calm. “I will find and inform the local King of Cats of my presence, but so long as I do not enter his Court uninvited, I am issuing no challenge by entering his territory. We are more civilized than you believe us to be. My presence states only that no harm will come to my betrothed, unless it comes first through me. I am very much looking forward to seeing anything try to get through me.”
Arden paled slightly. That was the appropriate response. She turned back to me. “I’ve arranged dressing rooms for all your people, off the main hall. As soon as you’re changed, I’ll open the portal to see you into Silences. You do your Kingdom a great service on this day.”