“I won’t kill anyone for you.” My lips felt numb as they shaped the words. I meant that—there were some things I couldn’t even justify by saving Tybalt’s life—but I hated myself for saying it.
“Death is our job, not yours,” said the Devin-haunt. He gave Tybalt a disgusted look. “The cat is not dead, merely drained. The holder of these halls has tightened her wards since the last time the Shadow Roads were used to pierce them, and mortality weighs heavily in that darkness.”
“So he hurt himself because he had to carry me through something that wasn’t designed to let humans pass.” I took a deep breath, swallowing my guilt. “I will owe you a favor.”
“Yes, you will,” said the Devin-haunt. “And if you default on us, we will take you.”
The idea of being eaten by the night-haunts while I was still alive didn’t exactly appeal, but I didn’t see another way. Not if I wanted Tybalt to live. Reluctantly, I nodded. “I’ll do whatever you ask me, as long as I don’t have to kill anyone. I won’t kill anyone.”
“Agreed,” said the Devin-haunt. There was a strange weight to the word, like it was binding above and beyond the actual meaning.
Feeling vaguely as if I’d just made a huge mistake, I asked, “How do I fix this?”
“The cat is sore wounded. He used his strength until there was nothing more. He needs power.” The Devin-haunt fluttered his wings. “Were you your own self, I would say you could grant it to him, but as you are . . .”
“As I am, I’ve got nothing.”
He smiled. “And yet you could have everything you desire.”
I frowned at him before finally looking away from Tybalt and the night-haunts, and taking stock of my surroundings.
We were in the final hall leading to the Queen’s dungeons. That was why the wall had felt so much harder than the floor; the floor was just stone, and the walls were laced with iron, to dampen and poison the magic of anyone who tried to escape. That explained why only two of the strongest night-haunts had come: the weaker members of the flock would probably have dissolved as soon as they entered. Torches made of mixed rowan and yarrow burned in sconces set into the wall, sending plumes of smoke up into the air.
We were in the Queen’s knowe. We were near the hope chest.
I turned back to the night-haunts. “How much time do I have?”
“The guards at the door heard the sound of wings,” said Connor’s haunt. “They’re not going to come in here until they’re sure that we’ve come and gone. They’d rather not see us if they have a choice in the matter.”
A cruel smile twisted the mouth of Devin’s haunt. “Fear is a beautiful wall to place between yourself and your enemies.”
“Okay. So . . . okay.” That didn’t give me an exact time, but it was a start. I stood, trying to ignore the shaking in my legs. “Can you stay with him?”
“Until you return, or until he comes with us,” said the Devin-haunt.
I blanched. No matter how bad I felt, I was doing this on a time limit. “All right,” I said. “I’ll be back soon.”
Connor’s wings rattled, and he looked at me, sea-dark eyes sad. “Hurry,” he said.
There was a warning in that word that I couldn’t deny, no matter how much I wanted to. I needed to hurry; I needed to run through the knowe until I found the treasury. But I was still smart enough to know that I wouldn’t make it very far if I tried to do this on my own. Slowly, I turned toward the darkened hall ahead of me. Somewhere down there in the dark was the only aid I was going to find here, in this place controlled by one of my worst enemies. All I had to do was find Dianda, free her, and hope that she was still capable of helping me after being locked in an iron-laced cell. And I had to do it before my boyfriend died.
“No pressure,” I muttered, and pulled a torch from its sconce before I limped onward into the dark.
TWENTY-FOUR
I’D NEVER BEEN ON THIS SIDE of the cells before while I was in a position to look around. The air was thick with smoke, making it difficult to see even in the light cast by my borrowed torch. I limped from door to door, peering through the hatches set into them at eye level. The first four cells I passed were empty. When I opened the hatch on the fifth door, a brick rebounded off the grill.
“Whoa!” I yelped, barely managing to fling myself out of the way of the flying stone chips. “Dianda? Is that you?”
“Come a little closer and find out for yourself,” she snarled.
“. . . definitely Dianda,” I muttered. Louder, I said, “It’s me, Toby. Can you please not throw anything else? I’m here to get you out of there.”
There was a pause before Dianda said suspiciously, “Prove it.”
I moved back in front of her cell’s hatch. She was standing at the center of the room in bipedal form, a brick in one hand, glaring. Her tunic was ripped and stained with blood and rust. She wasn’t wearing any pants, or shoes.
She scowled when she saw my face. “You’re not October,” she snarled, and pulled back her arm, preparing to fling the second brick.
“Whoa, whoa, hold up!” I said. “I am October, I just had a little accident with a goblin fruit pie and sort of accidentally turned myself mostly human.” The sheer ridiculousness of that statement hit me as soon as it had left my mouth. I winced. “Okay, let me try again . . .”
“There’s no need. No one else would say something that dumb and actually mean it.” Dianda lowered the brick. “How did you get here?” She seemed to be trying to look past me to the hall. The reason was revealed when she asked, “How many guards did you bring?”
“I brought a force of one, and he’s in trouble. I need you to help me find the treasury so I can fix myself, because I can’t fix him until I do that.” I drew my iron knife. The hilt was heavy and familiar in my hand. “Hold tight. I’m going to get you out of here.”
“Hurry.” Dianda wrapped her arms a little tighter around herself. “The air in here burns.”
“I know.” I dropped to one knee, wincing, and studied the lock. The fact that Dianda was still standing, and still strong enough not to revert to her natural form, was sort of awe-inspiring. Iron saps strength, and the more fae someone is, the faster iron will start affecting them. Dianda was pureblooded. She should have been writhing in agony. Instead, she was just looking for something she could hit.
I knew I liked her for a reason.
The lock was surprisingly easy to pick, maybe because there’d never been much of a reason to make it very secure. The Queen’s dungeon was hard to access, and anyone fae enough to know it existed was unlikely to ever make it that far. I twisted my knife to the side and the tumbler popped, allowing me to unlatch the door.
“All right; I’m opening the do—” Dianda burst out of the room, shoving past me, and stopped at the middle of the hallway, breathing so hard she looked like she’d just finished a marathon. I caught myself against the wall. “—or now,” I finished. “You okay?”
“My blood is full of stinging jellies and I want to hurt someone,” she snarled. “So it’s to be treason now, is it?”
“No, it’s not,” I said. “Arden just announced her regency. Unless she fails, this Queen has no right to hold you.”
Dianda blinked, and then slowly smiled. “Wonderful. Now about those people I wanted to hurt . . .”
“We can’t.” I shook my head, resheathing my knife. “We have something else to do.”
“What?” Dianda’s eyebrows arched upward in surprise. “I’m sorry. You get to give me orders now? Did I miss the annexation of the Undersea?”
“No,” I said. “But Tybalt is dying, and we need to find the treasury if there’s going to be any chance of saving him. I can’t do it on my own. I need your help.”