“Yeah.”
The Luidaeg and I both froze. It had been a softball question, one I expected to have lobbed back at me with an immediate refusal; something to keep the conversation going.
“What do you—”
“You have to leave now.” For a moment, I would have sworn I saw genuine fear in her face. The moment passed, but the memory of it lingered. “I mean it. Get out.”
“Luidaeg—”
She pushed herself out of her chair. Her eyes were still green, and her skin was still tan and human; her form wasn’t slipping, which was the most frightening thing of all, given how agitated she looked. I’d never seen her this upset without her fae nature beginning to bleed through. Her forgotten pint of Ben and Jerry’s fell to its side on the floor as she stood, spilling ice cream everywhere. She ignored it, advancing on me.
“This is my fault. I know it’s my fault. I should never have let you get so comfortable. You started thinking of me as harmless. I’m safe. I’m the monster at the end of the book, the one that you run to when the bigger monsters start threatening to eat you, but that’s not right, Toby, that’s not right, you forget yourself. You forget me. I am the scariest thing that has ever gone bump in the night. I am what you knew, at the bottom of your unformed child’s heart, was lurking in the back of your closet. And what I am telling you, right here and right now, is that you need to leave, because I am afraid of what will happen if you don’t.”
I stared at her, fighting the urge to take a step backward. Something told me that retreating would mean showing weakness, and showing weakness would be a mistake. “I’m not scared of you. If you were going to kill me, you’d have done it a long time ago, and it wouldn’t have been over a yes or no question.”
“Toby.” She said my name gently, and with a deep, centuries-long sorrow. “Who the fuck said I needed you to be afraid of me?” She took another step forward, dropping her voice to a whisper: “Run.”
I stared at her for a moment before groping behind me until I found Quentin’s hand. I trusted Tybalt to run, but Quentin . . . he was even closer to the Luidaeg than I was. If I was having trouble with this, he was going to be staggered. My fingers closed around his.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
Then I turned and ran, dragging my squire down the hall with me as I fled from the woman who had become one of my staunchest and most trusted allies. I expected to hear things breaking, or worse, the sounds of pursuit, but all that followed us was the unmistakable sound of the Luidaeg sobbing like her heart was broken. It took everything I had to wrench the door open and keep going, rather than turning back to help her.
The door waited to slam until all three of us were standing in the alley, which was blanketed by a thick fog that should have burned off long since. We stood frozen, staring at each other, until Quentin asked in a small voice, “What happened?”
“I think . . . I think I found a loophole,” I said. I sounded shell-shocked, like I’d just been through something much worse than a run down a short hallway. “She shouldn’t have been able to answer that last question. She shouldn’t have been able to tell me that it was someone I knew. That’s why she threw us out.”
“If she violated the geas, however accidentally, there may be consequences,” said Tybalt, dawning horror in his tone. “She was moving us out of the line of fire.”
“We have to help her,” said Quentin.
“Yeah, we do, and that means finding a way back into the line of fire. We need to know more about what we’re dealing with here.” I turned and started walking toward the car, digging my phone out of my pocket as I went. Much as I hated cell phones, they had their uses. The name I needed was halfway down my contact list.
It was the middle of the day, an hour when all good fae were snug in their beds like happy little monsters. My call went straight to voicemail. I hung up and called again. It went to voicemail again. I hung up and called a third time. We had reached the car by then; I unlocked the doors and peered into the backseat while I waited for an answer.
This time, I got it. “Hello?” Li Qin sounded groggy and half-aware, which made sense, given that I’d probably just hauled her out of a sound sleep.
“Li Qin, hi. I need a Library pass.”
“Toby?” The grogginess faded, replaced by confusion. “Titania’s teeth, Toby, it’s barely past noon. What’s going on?”
January had been Sylvester’s niece before she was Li Qin’s wife. Trusting that this meant I didn’t need to explain the whole tangled history of the Torquills to her, I said, “Simon’s back.”
Li Qin gasped, all signs of bleariness vanishing from her voice. “What? Where? Is Sylvester all right? Do you need me?”
“No, although it would probably be best if you could check in on April. I’m not sure Simon knows about her, and I’d like to keep it that way.” The backseat was clear. I got into the car. Tybalt and Quentin did the same, both of them watching me curiously. “Look, it’s a long story, and I don’t think this is the time to try explaining it, but I really need access to the Library right now. The Luidaeg can’t help us, and I need answers.”
“Right—of course. I’ll wake Mags up. I’m sure she’ll be fine with you coming over again. She liked you well enough last time you went to visit, and you didn’t burn the Library down, which she appreciates.” Li Qin hesitated before offering, “I can twist your luck . . .”
“I don’t know if I’m ready to go that far just yet. I’ll let you know.” Every type of fae has its own gifts. Li Qin could manipulate probability, allowing her to arrange for great coincidences. The trouble was, the scales had to be balanced. The last time I’d allowed her to bend my luck, I had wound up disemboweled. Twice. That didn’t mean I wouldn’t take the help if it came down to it. It just meant that I had no desire to become reacquainted with my liver.
“Okay. Just . . . be careful, all right? Simon is a very complicated man.”
“He turned me into a fish once.”
“Yes. Complicated. The Library is still in the same general area, I believe; is Quentin with you?”
I glanced over my shoulder. “He’s here.”
“I’ll text him with directions. You shouldn’t text and drive.”
I rolled my eyes as I twisted back into my original position. “Okay, wow. Way to slide in a ‘safe driving’ PSA when I’m about to risk my life doing stupid shit.”
“There are some stupid things you don’t have to do,” said Li Qin primly. “Open roads.”
“Kind fires,” I said automatically. Hanging up my phone, I tucked it back into my pocket before starting the engine. “Li Qin’s going to check in with Mags and then text Quentin with the current location of the Library.” Mags was the current Librarian. She could grant and deny access. Even Arden didn’t have that power.
“Much as I enjoy the dizzying whirl of your utter lack of planning, might you explain why we’re going to the Library of Stars?” asked Tybalt. He didn’t sound annoyed; just baffled, like he was sure there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for my behavior that he simply hadn’t figured out yet.
“There can’t be that many people I know who are powerful enough to bind the Luidaeg and were here when Luna and Rayseline disappeared. There are even fewer who would scare her like that,” I said, driving slowly as I moved through the fog. “If we check the Kingdom histories for around that time, maybe we can find the points of intersection, and figure out what the pieces are that we’re missing. And if nothing else, at least we know that Simon won’t be able to come after us there. We can regroup.”
“Charming,” sighed Tybalt. “Ah, well. At least it’s a plan, rather than a knee-jerk reaction to a previously unknown threat. That’s an encouraging change in your usual mode of operation.”