A Red-Rose Chain

“Right.” I turned back to Tybalt, who was still holding onto me. Quentin stepped up and took my free hand in his, while May took Tybalt’s free hand and held it tightly. Then Tybalt stepped backward, into the shadows cast by the hanging curtains, and out of the world where light and air were possibilities.

Running along the Shadow Roads with multiple people was never easy. There was too much chance that someone would trip or lose hold, and consequently be lost—possibly forever—in the darkness. Tybalt set the pace and the rest of us did our best to keep up, our lips sealed tight against the airless void and ice crystals forming on our hair and eyelashes with every step that we took. The cold was bad enough that I closed my eyes reflexively, shielding them from the worst of it. As always, I found myself wondering how everyone else was doing, whether the Shadow Roads were kinder to them than they were to me, or whether the opposite was true. It was better than dwelling on the nothingness surrounding us, infinite and empty.

Then we were falling back into a place where the air was warm, and more importantly, breathable. I lost my grip on Quentin’s hand. I lost my grip on Tybalt’s half a second later. There wasn’t time to worry about it, as my head’s impact with a brick wall followed almost instantly. The ice was knocked from my hair and eyelashes, jarring my eyes open, and I found myself looking at a narrow alleyway. A dumpster stood between us and the street. Tybalt was standing behind May, his hands in her armpits, and her face only a few inches from hitting the wall like mine had. Quentin was on his back on the ground. Fortunately, it either hadn’t been raining recently or the alley had excellent drainage: there was no standing water for him to have landed in. After the day we’d been having, if there had been an available puddle, he would have gone into it.

The sun was up, and it was early morning, based on the shadows. The Summerlands had been distorting time again. That made me worry about how Rhys was calculating the days. If his knowe burned hours faster than the world outside, our three days could be up before we even knew it.

“I’m the fiancée. Why am I the one you let risk concussion?” I asked, peeling myself away from the wall and rubbing the back of my head with one hand. It didn’t feel like I had knocked anything loose inside my skull, and my nose hadn’t started bleeding again. There was probably a layer or two of skin remaining on the brick, but that was a small thing. Any scrapes would be healed before we made it to the sidewalk.

“Because you’re also the one who heals like she’s trying out for the magical Olympics,” said May, pulling away from Tybalt. She retrieved the laundry bag from where it had fallen next to Quentin. “If I’d eaten wall the way you just did, my face would look like roadkill for the next week.”

“Aren’t you sweet,” I said, and offered Quentin my hand. He took it, letting me pull him off the alley floor. “You okay there, kiddo? Didn’t whack your head too hard?”

“I’m fine,” said Quentin. He raised his hand and whistled a few bars of a sea shanty as he brought it down again. The smell of steel and heather filled the alley as the thin veil of a human disguise settled over him, softening the lines of his face and stealing some of the metallic sheen from his hair. His tunic and trousers also blurred, becoming jeans and a T-shirt advertising a band called Great Big Sea. He looked like any human kid, standing on the border between high school and college, and ready to take on the world.

My ears itched. I reached up to feel the side of my right ear, and found that it was gently curved—human. “Good work,” I said.

Quentin smiled. “No problem. Um, I know you’re going to see the local King, so you can dispel it if you need to by clapping your hands twice.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You’re learning conditional illusions now? Excellent work. That tutoring with Etienne is really working out.”

“It’ll go faster once he has access to his own magic again,” said Quentin, cheeks reddening with pleasure.