“Hello, my sweet,” said Veronica.
Six
In the glare of the streetlamp Veronica’s hair was pale as tallow, her skin the color of ashes. “You kept me searching a long time for you, human boy,” she remarked. “And yet, somehow…the look on your face makes it all worthwhile.”
Linden slid down behind Timothy’s shoulder and crouched on the top of his pack, willing herself not to panic. Veronica’s spell had bound Timothy but left her free to move: Perhaps that meant the other faery hadn’t seen her. So, if she stayed very still, maybe she’d have time to think of a plan…
“That drab little creature has left you unattended, has she?” said Veronica, trailing a finger down Timothy’s cheek. Linden expected him to flinch, but he only stared past her unblinking: Veronica’s spell had bound him so fast that he could not even speak. “I would call that a foolish mistake…though she was a fool to begin with, thinking she could steal you away from me.”
She brought her other hand to Timothy’s cheek, leaned forward-and her gaze fell on Linden. With a hiss she jerked back. “You! So tiny, and with wings, no less-what in the Empress’s name-?”
Stiffly Linden pulled herself upright, trying not to put too much weight on her injured foot. “Timothy is under my protection,” she said with all the dignity she could muster. “You cannot have him.”
Veronica breathed a laugh. “Little one, you amaze me. When I believed you had stolen the boy so you could take his music for yourself, I admired your impudence even as I swore to make you pay for it. But now you ask me to believe you were trying to protect him? A mere human, with nothing in his head but music and ignorance?” Her lips compressed. “Come now, tell me the truth and I may yet spare your life.”
The menace in the other faery’s voice made Linden tremble, but her outrage was stronger than her fear. “I mean what I say,” she retorted, and then, summoning up all her courage and her faith in Knife’s example, she added, “I will fight you if I have to.”
Veronica’s skeptical look shaded into contempt. “Then you must have lost what little wits you ever possessed. To blatantly display your faery nature by taking this ridiculous little form, and to ally yourself with a human in defiance of the Empress’s decree-”
“Empress?” Linden interrupted. “Who is this Empress you keep talking about?”
“Not know the Empress?” Veronica’s eyes narrowed. “Do you mock me? Or are you testing my loyalty? If you think I could ever be tempted to show mercy to rebels and humans, then be assured that I will prove you wrong-right now.”
With a flick of her fingers she knocked Linden from Timothy’s shoulder, sending her tumbling backward into the air. Then she seized Timothy’s face between her hands Linden cried out and flung herself forward, but there was no need. Something like a small bird flashed out from the darkness and struck Veronica across the back of the head; her eyes glazed over, and she slid to the pavement.
“Veronica?” whispered Linden, hovering above the fallen faery. The bird thing had vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and Timothy still hadn’t moved; she had no idea how to free him from the spell. But then a hooded figure stepped out from between the buildings, and she caught the unmistakable scent of another faery. With surprisingly powerful-looking hands the stranger tore Veronica’s spell to glittering tatters until Timothy gasped and stumbled forward, free.
Linden’s heart leaped. “Don’t go!” she called out as the stranger backed away. “Please, I need to talk to you!”
The other faery hesitated, then made a beckoning gesture and vanished back into the darkness. Linden was about to follow-then noticed that Timothy was still standing there, apparently too dazed to walk. She gritted her teeth and willed herself large again, then grabbed Timothy’s wrist and pulled him along with her.
The strange faery led them through the alley, past a row of metal bins overflowing with rubbish and walls scrawled with painted symbols Linden didn’t recognize. All she could do was limp along with Timothy in tow, wincing as cold grime crunched beneath her feet, and praying she didn’t step on anything else sharp.
The passageway led them onto another street, where they walked a few more paces before stopping in front of a wall covered with colorful scraps of paper and yet more scribbles of paint. Linden was just about to ask what they were looking at when the other faery raised a hand, and a hidden door opened in the wall.
Stepping inside, they climbed a narrow, creaking staircase to its very top, emerging at last into a single tiny room. The air inside smelled musty, and the ceiling bowed over their heads, cracked and stained from years of slow leaking. The wallpaper had peeled away in strips, the carpet was black with mildew, and when their guide pressed the light switch the naked bulb sizzled fitfully in its socket.
“All right,” said Timothy, shaking himself free of Linden. He looked tired, but now his eyes were clear. “So now that you’ve rescued us, do you mind telling us who you are?”
The stranger turned, pushing back the concealing hood. Linden stepped forward eagerly-and her throat closed up with shock.
The faery who had rescued them was a male.
Timothy was still so dizzy from the aftereffects of Veronica’s spell, it was an effort at first to tell who he was looking at. But gradually his rescuer’s features came into focus, and he knew. “Rob!” he exclaimed.
Linden whirled on him. “Rob? This is the musician you were talking about? But he’s…” Words seemed to fail her as she looked back at the other faery, her gaze traveling up his figure to linger on his broad shoulders and the spare, angular bones of his face. “I don’t understand,” she faltered.
“I thought you were a friend of Veronica’s,” said Timothy, unable to keep the accusation from his voice.
Rob seemed unfazed. “Our people make no friends,” he said, “only allies and enemies. But for now, I am your ally, and not hers. She won’t find you here.”
For now. That didn’t sound too reassuring to Timothy, especially after the way he’d seen Rob play his guitar back at Sanctuary. What if he’d rescued them from Veronica just to steal Timothy’s music for himself?
“You mistrust me,” said Rob. His voice had fallen into formal cadences, with a rich, rolling accent that sounded centuries older than he looked. “I do not blame you for it. But I give you my pledge-I mean you no harm.”
“But you’re a faery,” said Linden in a plaintive voice. “And you’re male. How can that be?”
“I am as real as you,” Rob told her. “But enough idle talk. Tell me, who are you and where have you come from?”
His eyes were on Linden now, so intent that she might have been the only other person in the room, and Timothy felt a flicker of irritation. “What about giving us a chance to rest a bit first?” he said. “Linden’s hurt, and I want to look at her foot before-”
He broke off as Rob swung around and gave him a hard look. All at once Timothy became aware that there was a bed just a few feet behind him, and that he was even more tired than he’d thought. He backed up slowly until the mattress bumped against his legs, and then sat down.
“Timothy?” said Linden, sounding anxious, but her voice seemed to be coming from a great distance. And the bed felt so soft, the springs trembling invitingly beneath his weight… It wouldn’t hurt to lie down just a moment, would it?
He slumped over, his head dropping onto the pillow. The world around him faded, and Timothy sank into a deep, dreamless sleep.
“You put a spell on him,” Linden accused Rob as Timothy began to snore. It was all she could do to speak firmly, and not betray the nervousness she felt inside.
“Not quite,” said Rob, looking amused. “I merely took away the chemicals in his body that were keeping him awake. You might even call it a healing.”