Chimes at Midnight

“Didn’t you go to the Undersea on your own last time you needed to talk to Mom? She’s sort of land-averse.” He hesitated before adding, “And maybe she could let you stay in Saltmist for a while.”

I grimaced. “Okay, yes, I went to the Undersea last time, but I had to let the Luidaeg turn me into a Merrow in order to do that. I’m not a big water person. Your mother’s land-aversion? Multiply that times a thousand and you’ve got me and water. Oh, and I’m even less fond of being turned into things. So if there’s any chance she’s willing to come up here, that would be much, much better.” I didn’t touch the idea of my hiding in the Undersea. Horrifying as it was to contemplate, there was a very real chance that things could go that way.

“Toby was a fish for a while,” Quentin informed him, in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. Fourteen years.”

“Yes, I remember when MTV played videos and only geeks had the Internet, okay?” I crossed my arms and scowled, temporarily forgetting that I was supposed to be asking Dean for a favor. People are more likely to do you favors when you’re nice to them. “Now can you call your parents? Please?”

“Of course.” Dean shook his head. “I probably shouldn’t be relieved, but I’m so bored. It turns out ruling a County full of people who don’t want you to tell them what to do doesn’t actually take up all that much time.”

I bit my lip so as not to smile, having experienced something very similar during my time at Goldengreen. “You don’t say.”

“I do.” Dean sighed. “I’ll go call my folks. Be right back.”

“We’ll be here.” I was surprised when I first learned that the Undersea has DSL and phone service. I shouldn’t have been. Faerie likes to stay in touch as much as anybody.

Marcia returned with a fresh tray of sandwiches while we waited. She had a large mug in one hand. “I thought you could use this,” she said, handing it to me.

“You are a genius,” I said, before taking a long drink of coffee. “Oh, that’s good.”

“The Luidaeg didn’t have any coffee,” said Quentin.

“Well, then, I’m amazed Toby hasn’t started stabbing people yet.” Marcia looked at me frankly. “It looks like you’ve been eating, and I can’t see any circles under your eyes. Have you started actually sleeping?”

“Tybalt makes her,” said Quentin.

“That’s wonderful,” said Marcia, and handed Tybalt a sandwich.

I raised an eyebrow. “You three realize I’m right here, don’t you?”

“Yes, but as you can’t be trusted to take care of yourself, we’re doing it for you.” Marcia thrust her tray in my direction. “Sandwich?”

I sighed. “Sure.” I may be stubborn, but I know when I’ve been beaten. I took a sandwich. Quentin took two. “How are things around here?”

“Good. The Count’s getting his land-legs, and he’s a thoughtful boy who’ll be a thoughtful man someday. Sooner rather than later, if he has his way, but he’s only eighteen. We’re not pushing him yet.” Marcia cocked her head. “How about you? Are you doing well?”

“I am, yeah, except for the whole banishment thing.” The admission would have seemed impossible a year ago, when I’d lost my boyfriend and my daughter on the same brutal night. But time heals all wounds, and mine were healing.

“Banished. You, by her, over goblin fruit. I never thought I’d see the day.” Marcia scowled. “It’s filthy stuff. The Count doesn’t allow it in the knowe, and we’ve managed to keep everyone away from it, but that can’t last forever. Not with the way it’s spreading.”

“I don’t like goblin fruit either.” Marcia was a quarter-blood, more human than fae. Goblin fruit would probably kill her even faster than it killed most changelings. I took another drink of my coffee, and said, “I just can’t focus on that until I’ve dealt with the banishment. I’m not sure what King Gilad has to do with my being kicked out of the Kingdom, but when the Luidaeg tells me to do something, I try to do it. If it can get me un-banished, it’s worth the time.”

“And if not, at least there are sandwiches,” said Quentin.

“Way to look on the bright side there,” I said.

He grinned. “I know.”

Marcia, on the other hand, looked genuinely concerned. “Toby, are you sure that challenging the Queen’s declaration is, you know, a good idea?”

“No,” I admitted. “But it’s the only one I’ve got. She’s not going to stop the goblin fruit, and she’s not going to let me stay in her Kingdom. Right now, you could be handing out goblin fruit sandwiches in her Court and you wouldn’t actually be doing anything wrong.”

“Yes,” said Marcia bitterly. “I know.”