Chimes at Midnight

I didn’t move. I couldn’t. My fear was a hard knot in my throat, mingling with my growing need for more goblin fruit. Tybalt hadn’t seen me yet. His lips were drawn back from his teeth as he snarled at Sylvester, holding my liege like he weighed nothing at all. He hadn’t noticed my hair, or realized how human I’d suddenly become.

What if he didn’t want me once he knew? Of all the endings I’d envisioned for our relationship—and there had been more than a few—me turning mortal was never on the list.

Quentin glanced toward the door. He was holding the flask of fireflies the Luidaeg had given me, and he looked miserable. He relaxed a little as he saw me. “Tybalt?” he said.

Tybalt snarled, starting to turn, and froze when he saw me. I fought back the urge to wrap my arms around myself and retreat. Instead, I met his eyes, bit my lip, and waited.

Slowly, Tybalt lowered Sylvester to his feet and stepped away from him. The guards moved in, helping the Duke stay upright. Sylvester raised a hand to his throat, coughing. Tybalt didn’t seem to notice all this commotion behind him. He was focused on me, and only on me. He took a step forward.

“October?”

He sounded puzzled, not disgusted. That was a start. I nodded, saying, “In the too, too solid flesh.” A bubble of laughter rose unbidden to my lips. It probably made me sound slightly unhinged as it burst into the air. I managed to swallow before it could happen again, and said, “I’d quote ‘Goblin Market’ if I knew the words, but all I can remember is the part that goes ‘we must not look at goblin men,’ and it’s too late for that . . .”

Then, to my shame and surprise, I started crying.

Tybalt didn’t say a word. He closed the space between us in two long steps, gathering me into his arms and holding me as close as if none of this had happened. I clung to him and cried, not caring who saw me. I was past giving a damn if someone wanted to say that I was a weak little changeling who couldn’t handle her own affairs. If there had ever been a time when I needed allies, this was it.

Finally, the tears slowed, and I pulled myself away. Tybalt let go reluctantly, and kept one hand against the curve of my waist, providing me with an anchor. I blinked up at him, waiting to hear what he would say. He narrowed his eyes, looking at me. I bit my lip.

“Have you done something different with your hair?” he asked.

This time, my laughter sounded a lot more normal. I smiled through the last of my tears, and said, “Yeah. Do you like it?”

“I could grow accustomed to it, if you chose to keep it this way.” His gaze swung back to Sylvester, going cold. “I might already be accustomed to it, if I had been allowed to come to you sooner.”

“You have my apologies, Tybalt, and there will be no action taken by myself or by my household to answer your attack upon my person,” said Sylvester, rubbing his throat. “I was wrong to keep you away.”

“You should never have allowed her to be endangered in the first place!” snarled Tybalt, fangs showing and eyes glinting a dangerous green. “Do not forget, sir, that she was fine in my company.”

“Except for the whole ‘getting banished’ thing, and all those times in your company when I’ve been stabbed or gutted or poisoned or whatever,” I said, interjecting myself before they could make the situation any worse. “Please. Can you stop? We don’t have time for this. Please.”

Sylvester looked away. Tybalt remained where he was, and didn’t say anything.

I sighed. “This is going to be a great night. Sylvester, where’s Jin? Am I cleared to leave? Because I’m leaving either way, but it would be good to have a medical release.”

“I wish you wouldn’t,” he said.

“I don’t care. But I’m leaving the car here. I’d bet you a dollar the Queen figures you’re going to keep me locked up while you try to figure out how to wean me off goblin fruit without losing me, and this is the one place in the Kingdom that I’m officially allowed to be after my deadline. So let her assume she’s taken me out of commission.” I bit back a bitter smirk. “I barely even need a human disguise to go out in public right now. Her men won’t recognize me.”

“You don’t need one at all,” said Quentin softly.

“What?” I turned my attention to him, and paused, seeing the grief and, yes, terror written on his face. This, right here, was what he’d been afraid of since I started my one-woman crusade against goblin fruit on the streets of my city: I was addicted, I was mostly mortal, and he was going to lose me.

“If you keep your hair over your ears . . . they’re not even that pointy. You don’t need a human disguise at all.”

The words were like blows. I’d known that I looked human, but not that I was that far gone. I looked to Tybalt, searching his face for confirmation.

He nodded.

“Oh, ash and pine.” I closed my eyes, taking a shaky breath. “Fine. So the Queen’s guards won’t be able to track me by my magic. Let’s see this as a good thing, and go.”

“Where to?” asked Sylvester.