Beneath me, Tybalt groaned. I rolled away from him, and he pushed himself upright, glowering through ice-crusted lashes. The look didn’t seem to be directed at me, and so I raised an eyebrow, beginning to scrape ice sheets off the outside of my leather jacket.
“That was thoroughly unpleasant, and I apologize most profusely for nearly getting us both killed,” he said.
“The highway was a nice trick,” I said agreeably, leaning over to brush the snow out of his hair. “How are you feeling? Heart still beating, not going to drop dead on me again?”
“No, I think not,” he said. There was a thudding sound, accompanied by a yelp, as if two teenage boys had just been dropped into the same snowbank. Tybalt’s glower faded, replaced by amusement. “It sounds as if our respective charges have also arrived safely.”
“Thank Oberon for that,” I said fervently, and stood, scanning the snow-choked landscape for a sign of the boys.
We had clearly landed in Sylvester’s demesne: the snow was proof enough of that, since no one else I knew was currently hosting a winter wonderland. Trees stood all around us, gray-trunked with translucent blue leaves that looked like they would melt if I so much as touched them. There was a heap of snow near the base of one of the nearby trees. As I watched, two heads poked up out of it, both frosted with snow, one bronze-topped and one russet. I waved. Quentin pulled his arm out of the snow and waved back.
“We’re not far from the knowe,” I said, turning to offer Tybalt my hand. He took it, pulling himself easily out of the snow. “We should be able to walk to the back door from here, which is good, since I’m freezing.”
“Perhaps the household staff can equip you with something better suited to the season, or at least warmer,” said Tybalt.
“I’d settle for not having half the Pacific freezing against my back, really.” Quentin and Raj were out of their snowbank and tromping across the clearing toward us. Quentin scooped a handful of snow off the ground without pausing. I raised my hand. They both stopped, blinking at me. “Drop it.”
“What?” said Raj.
Quentin sighed and let his handful of snow fall back to the ground. I nodded.
“I know, I never let you have any fun,” I said. “But look at it this way: he would have screamed bloody murder when you put that down his back, and then we would have been explaining things to Sylvester’s guards.” Probably including Etienne, which would make it a reasonably easy explanation. It would still take too much time. “You can start a snowball fight with Raj later, okay?”
“Okay,” said Quentin.
“Wait, what?” said Raj.
“Both of you, come on.” I turned, trying not to shiver as I gestured for them to follow me out of the woods and into the gardens that stretched behind Sylvester’s knowe.
Nothing moved but us as we made our way through the silent woods, our feet crunching in the snow. Even Tybalt and Raj couldn’t keep themselves from making noise as they walked, which was almost a relief, given the circumstances. We reached the woods’ edge and continued on, into the frozen gardens. The hedge maze was a skeletal outline, easier than ever to navigate now that it kept no secrets for itself. The rosebushes Simon had visited to gather my warning bouquet were still in full bloom when we passed them, seeming no worse off for having been inexpertly pruned.
“Let me lead from here,” I said quietly, moving to walk a few feet ahead of Tybalt. It wasn’t much, but it was enough that I’d be the first person any member of the staff saw. That might buy us time to explain what we were doing, and why we hadn’t come in via the front door.
As we passed the rose garden, I stopped. Someone was standing near the ballroom doors, someone tall and thin with fox-red hair. Unfortunately, with Simon in the knowe, there was no way for me to know for sure whether that meant safety or danger. Tybalt moved to stand beside me again. We had been spotted. There was no sense in trying to tailor the first impression when it was no longer ours to make.
The figure started toward us. We held our ground. As he drew closer, I could see that yes, he was definitely one of the Torquill brothers; there might be two people who shared that face, but thankfully, there weren’t more. He was wearing a charcoal-colored vest over a white shirt, and he looked worried. At this point, that, too, could have indicated either one of them.
Then he took one more step, and the familiar scent of dogwood flowers and daffodil caressed my nose, bidding me to be calm. I relaxed. “Sylvester.”
“October,” he replied, sounding puzzled. “What are you doing here? You could have been hurt—”
“Your wards have never been set to keep me out, and coming through the woods was easier than using the mortal world, under the circumstances,” I said. “We used the Shadow Roads to get here.”
He blinked. “From San Francisco? That’s too dangerous.” His gaze flicked to Tybalt. “I would have trusted some of you to have more sense than that.”
“I’m going to ignore the part where you just implied that you don’t expect me to have common sense, and cut straight to asking if we can come in,” I said. “It’s cold out here, and I can’t really feel my feet anymore. I’d like to get warm and tell you why we came, if that’s okay.”
“Your timing is excellent,” he said. “I was just about to call you.”
I hesitated, looking at him. Finally, as my stomach sank, I asked, “Do you have company?”
“Yes,” he said. “It’s a miracle. October, Evening Winterrose is returned to us. She’s alive.”
I closed my eyes. Fuck. “You know,” I said, in as level a tone as I could manage, “that’s what I was afraid you were going to say.”
SIXTEEN
SYLVESTER WAS Daoine Sidhe. If the feeling of dreamy inevitability Quentin had described experiencing in Evening’s presence was an artifact of interacting with your First and not the result of some spell Evening had cast on King Aethlin and his Court, I needed to choose my next words carefully.
Naturally, I didn’t do that.
“She’s dangerous and you need to get her out of here,” I said bluntly.
“What?” Sylvester frowned. I looked back at him, trying not to shiver. “October, I’m afraid you may be confused. Evening Winterrose, former Countess of Goldengreen, your friend, is here. She’s alive. It’s a miracle.”
“It’s a miracle that nearly got us all killed a few hours ago,” I said. “She tried to take back Goldengreen. She closed the wards, and we got slapped off the Shadow Roads into the ocean. We could have died. One of Lily’s former handmaids did die when Evening started a fight inside the knowe. Are you following me yet? She’s dangerous.” I didn’t tell him she was the one who’d paid for the abduction of Luna and Rayseline. I was going to have to sooner or later, but this didn’t seem like the time. Not when Evening was already in the building. Either he’d call me a liar, or worse, he’d attack her—and I didn’t want to see what would happen if he went up against his own First.
Sylvester’s frown deepened. “This sounds like a terrible misunderstanding. All of you are shivering—you must be freezing.”
“I’m not,” said Quentin.
“Let’s get you inside and have Jin bring you some warm clothes,” said Sylvester, ignoring Quentin completely. “Once you’re dry, you can meet us in the receiving hall, and you and Evening can work out whatever issues you’re having. I understand her return is probably confusing for you, but, October, just think. This is a miracle. We have been blessed by the oak, ash, and thorn this day, for one of our own has resumed her dancing.”