“You’re safe, you’re with me, stop hitting,” I said. My voice was mushy and distorted by the damage he’d done. I couldn’t help feeling a little bit proud. My squire was all grown up and breaking noses. I just wished he wasn’t breaking mine. “Now stop punching me and help me set this before it heals all crooked and weird.”
“Toby?” His eyes widened as he realized who he was hitting, shock transforming almost immediately into guilt. “Oh, oak and ash, Toby, I’m sorry! I didn’t know who you were! I thought—”
“You thought I was the King, or one of the King’s men, I know. It’s okay.” Quentin didn’t look like he was going to help me set my nose any time soon. That was probably asking a little much. I placed my index fingers to either side of the break, feeling for the places where things were out of alignment, and shoved until everything lined up. This was accompanied by another bolt of pain, even more vivid than the first, and a fresh gout of blood. The pain faded almost immediately. My body was already putting itself back together, healing with the ludicrous speed gifted to me by my heritage.
“I didn’t realize it was you,” said Quentin, sounding miserable. “I would never ever hit you. Please believe me.”
“Kiddo, it’s okay. You don’t need to convince me that we’re friends, and sometimes friends have to hit each other in the process of discharging our duties. Remember all those times I slapped Tybalt?”
“I certainly do,” said Tybalt dryly. I turned to find him behind me, a resigned expression on his face. “I leave for half an hour and return to find you covered, head to toe, with blood. Perhaps you would be better suited to be a Bannick’s wife. At least then you could be cleaned via supernatural means, rather than depending on the vagaries of the laundry.”
“I’m surprisingly good at getting blood out of cotton,” I said. “Velvet may be a little harder. It’s an adventure. Come here. My hands are all bloody, and we still need to snap May out of it.”
“Why are you covered in blood?” pressed Tybalt.
“Quentin broke my nose,” I said. I couldn’t keep the pride out of my voice.
“Sorry,” said Quentin.
Tybalt blinked slowly. Then he sighed, and said, “Each time I tell myself you have reached the summit of your strangeness, you find a way to climb still higher.”
“Look at it this way: being married to me will never be boring.” I pointed to the mortar. “Take a pinch of that and blow it into May’s eyes, will you? Just be ready to duck.”
“Yes, dear,” said Tybalt, his flat, toneless delivery making it clear that he was mocking me. He picked up a pinch of Walther’s powder, spread it thinly across his palm, and blew it into May’s eyes. He jumped backward at almost the same time, leaving a glittering cloud hanging in the air for May’s hand to sweep away as she directed an open-palmed slap at the place where he’d been a moment before. When her hand struck nothing but the empty air she stopped, blinking, a look of profound confusion on her face.
“You see, some of us understand the meaning of the word ‘dodge,’” said Tybalt. “Perhaps you should enlighten yourself. You might keep more of your blood within your body, and thus tax my poor heart less.” He turned his attention to May. “Milady Fetch. Welcome back to the land of the self-aware. I trust you have enjoyed your stay in the land of the insensate?”
“I’m going to kill him,” said May, in a slow, wondering voice. “I’m going to commit regicide. I hope none of you have a problem with that, because I’m going to do it.”
“Sorry, but I can’t let you,” I said. “We don’t have all the pieces we’d need to kill a King, like, I don’t know, consent from Oberon himself to violate the Law.”
“The penalty for breaking the Law is death,” said May. “I can’t be killed. It’ll work out fine.”
“The fact that you can’t die doesn’t mean they can’t try to kill you, and I’m pretty sure that you wouldn’t enjoy, say, decapitation,” I said. “While you were getting arrested, we were gathering information. Now settle down, and listen.”
It only took a few minutes to explain what had happened when I went to speak with King Rhys. It took longer to describe what happened next: the meeting in the wood with Ceres, the reunion between Walther and his sister, and most importantly, the possibility that Walther would actually be able to engineer a counterpotion for elf-shot. If the rightful holders of the throne could be awakened, we’d be in a better position to petition the High King to make things better.
When I finished, there was a moment of silence. Then Quentin asked, “Why did they come for me and May? We weren’t doing anything.”
“No, but as my squire, you’re the best hostage against my good behavior. And May looks like my changeling sister. I’ve been careful not to say that she wasn’t, although the false Queen knows, so we can’t discount the possibility that Rhys does as well. Either way, she’s clearly family, which makes her a good hostage, too.”
“And as your family, I command you to give me your dress,” said May, sliding off the bed and holding out her hand.
I blinked at her. “Excuse me?”
“You said Rhys wanted to take you apart. Have you noticed that he has an army of alchemists, including Walther’s sister, ready to do his bidding? You can’t just go leaving your blood around like it’s not a big deal. Give me your dress. Give me everything that has blood on it.” May continued to hold out her hand. “I’m going to make sure it can’t be used against you.”
“I can take you to a proper laundry, if you would like, rather than run the risk that Rhys will save and reuse your wash water,” said Tybalt calmly. “We have need to go into Portland regardless.”
I turned to look at him. “Is that where you went? To Portland?”
“Yes,” he said. “I’ve been making many promises. It was time to see whether they could be kept. The local King has agreed to see us. He has already seen me, you understand, but is interested in meeting the woman who could sway me toward marriage. Apparently, our union will settle some sort of bet.” He wrinkled his nose at the end, like this was so unbelievably crass that he didn’t know where to begin.
“Fair enough,” I said. I looked down at my blood-soaked bodice and sighed. “I need help getting out of this, and then we can head for Portland. Quentin, Walther, do you want to come with us? I’m not sure I like the idea of you staying here alone.”
“I’m coming with you,” said Quentin.
“I’m not,” said Walther. The rest of us turned to look at him. He shrugged. “I need to spend more time with Aunt Ceres, and to work on finding that rose. Until I have it, I can’t make any more progress on my counterpotion. I can get to her without having any issues. I know this castle better than the people who currently hold it—I’d be willing to stake my life on it.”
“You will be,” I said grimly. “If you have any trouble, or if Rhys threatens you in any way, run, all right? None of this is worth it if you get yourself killed.”
“Yes, Mom,” he said, and smiled. “Now get yourself cleaned up. You look like a crime scene.”
“That’s how you know I’m feeling like myself,” I said. I walked to the wardrobe, fished out jeans, my leather jacket, and a clean tank top, then started for the bathroom with May close behind me.
It took us five minutes to undo all the stays and ties holding the dress together. There was a bloodstain on the left cup of my bra, but it wasn’t bad enough to make me want a clean one. I had every confidence that it was going to be joined by more before this trip was through. May took custody of the dress as soon as it was peeled from my body.
“Wash the blood off your face,” she said, and left me to get dressed.
The others were waiting when I emerged. May had produced a laundry bag from somewhere, and had it slung over her shoulder. “At least you didn’t get blood in your hair,” she said.