A Red-Rose Chain

My spell gathered and burst, followed by Tybalt’s a bare second later. I slid the key into the ignition and started the car, feeling it purr to life around me. Glancing at Tybalt, I asked, “So how much do you know about the Cu Sidhe?”


“The dogs?” He wrinkled his nose. “As much as I must. They’re pleasant people, for the most part, if a bit simple. Not stupid, mind: just simple. I dislike their lack of complexity. It makes every interaction feel like a trick. Why do you ask?”

“Tia,” I said. “I’ve never known one of them to get angry that fast.”

“Ah.” His expression shifted, becoming almost melancholy. “There was a time when not many Cu Sidhe lived in this Kingdom, little fish. This was cat territory, and we mostly avoid one another, when we can. They lived in Silences.”

“Until the old King fell,” I said, filling in the missing pieces.

Tybalt nodded. “They were of his Court. They came here in the aftermath, and have remained ever since.”

“So hearing that Silences had hurt her brother probably didn’t help Tia’s state of mind.” It might well have destroyed it. I shook my head. “I need to think about this. You can get some sleep, if you need to.”

To my surprise and relief, Tybalt did exactly that, bracing his arm against the window and resting his head on the platform this created. He didn’t enjoy riding in the car under the best of circumstances; something about remembering a time when the streets belonged to horses and carriages kept him from fully relaxing in something that moved faster than either men or beasts were ever intended to. But he was getting used to it, for my sake, just like I was getting used to traveling via the Shadow Roads, for his.

It was nice, that we both had something to get used to. It made things feel more equitable.

I turned the radio on but kept it turned down low as I made the drive from San Francisco to Berkeley, trying to allow the familiar sounds of 1980s rock and roll to ease my nerves. It didn’t work. I was wound as tightly as it was possible for me to be, and there was no one for me to blame but myself. I could have been smarter about confronting Arden, for a start—I could have avoided this whole situation if I’d just kept my hands off the Queen in the Mists.

Or maybe not. Arden had been so quick to jump at sending me into Silences as a punishment that I had to wonder whether it would have been her solution even if I hadn’t done anything wrong. I was developing something of a reputation as a political wrecking ball. She hadn’t built her Court yet, not really, and with Madden out of commission, she couldn’t afford to send Lowri away. Who else did she really have? I was a hero of the realm. Sending me to Silences might have been her best approach.

“I hate politics,” I muttered, and turned onto University.

The central spire of UC Berkeley was visible long before the campus itself came into view. I ignored the posted parking signs and drove up one of the back paths intended for delivery trucks and moving vans, getting as close to the building where Walther worked as possible. Tybalt’s don’t-look-here was holding exceedingly well. As long as no one tried to bring a U-Haul down the path, the natural aversion to interfering with anything under that sort of illusion would keep the human population of campus from noticing us.

May, Quentin, and Tybalt all remained asleep as I turned off the engine and eased my way out of the car. Only Spike clambered to its feet, stretched, and leaped after me. “Stay close, okay?” I said, gently closing the door. “I don’t have time to chase you around the school. We have a war to prevent.”

Spike gave me a reproachful look and rattled its thorns, like it was ashamed of me for even asking. I shrugged.