A Red-Rose Chain

“I’m going to eat something after I see them.” I didn’t need to explain who I meant, or why I wanted to see them with my own eyes: Quentin nodded in clear understanding, taking his hands off my arms. I turned to retake Tybalt’s hand, and asked, “Coming with us?”


“Never leaving again,” said Quentin. Now four, we walked the rest of the way down the stairs. At the bottom, we found a hallway; at the end of the hall, there was a door. It wasn’t locked.

The room on the other side was small and austere, furnished only with two plain stone biers. Rhys lay atop one; the false Queen of the Mists, whose name we might never know, was on the other.

“They’ll sleep out their enchantments before they stand trial,” said Walther, watching me as I looked at them. “A hundred years isn’t much, but it’s a start.”

And they would wake into a world where fair, considerate stewardship had wiped away any legacy of their hatred. Arden in the Mists, and the Yates family here in Silences. In a way, the torture of knowing that they had failed to remake Faerie in their own image would be worse for our sleepers than anything else could have been.

“Toby?” Arden’s voice was soft and familiar, and most of all, expected. I still tensed before I turned to see her standing in the doorway. There was a woman next to her, golden-haired and blue-eyed, with a circlet resting atop her head. One of her hands was missing several fingers.

“You know, the bastard,” I gestured toward Rhys, “swiped some of my laundry after I bled all over it. I heal pretty fast. A good alchemist might be able to make something from my blood that would help you grow those back.”

The woman smiled. She looked tired. “Not the greeting one usually offers to a queen, but given what I know of you, I’ll take it as given. Hello, Sir October Daye, Knight of Lost Words, sworn in service to Duke Sylvester Torquill of Shadowed Hills, Hero in the Mists. My name is Siwan Yates, Queen of Silences, and my family owes you a debt we will never be able to repay.”

“But we’ll still take the laundry,” said Walther quickly. Siwan shot him a sharp look. He smiled guilelessly. “Hey, if Toby wants to help us grow back all the parts Rhys stole, I say we let her. She’s got more blood.”

“Because you are our trusted allies, I’ll allow it,” said Arden.

Siwan nodded. “Then we are even more deeply in your debt, Sir Daye. If ever you need anything, you need only ask.”

“I need you to let me talk to your changelings.” The words burst out in a rush. Siwan looked startled. So did Arden. I pressed on: “Most of them have never seen the mortal world. They never got the Choice. All of them have been exposed to goblin fruit, and some of them are already addicted. We have a hope chest, in the Mists, and if Queen Windermere isn’t willing to risk bringing it here, we have me. I can offer them a Choice, a real choice, one where they get to belong completely to whichever world they want. It’ll cure the addictions. It’ll give them a chance.”

Siwan looked from me to Arden, brows raised. “Can she really do that?”

“She can,” confirmed Arden.

“She won’t, for several days,” said Tybalt firmly. “She needs her rest.”

“But after I’ve rested, please,” I said. “Let me help them.”

Siwan turned back to me. Tears were running down her cheeks, but her smile was still serene. “Thank you,” she said. I managed not to flinch from the words. The fact that I felt like hell probably helped. “I never thought to have my Kingdom back, and now . . . thank you. All of you. You are heroes here.”

“We have more to do, Your Highness, and Sir Daye looks exhausted,” said Arden respectfully. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” said Siwan. The two queens turned and walked away. They didn’t say good-bye.

Quentin broke the ensuing silence first. “Huh,” he said. “I guess that happened.”

“I guess it did,” I agreed. I turned to Walther. “Are you going to be staying here after the rest of us go home?”