A Red-Rose Chain

Quentin cracked open one eye, looking at me petulantly. He had been drooling in his sleep, and his bronze hair was plastered against his cheek in a matted snarl. He still managed to look like he should have been on the cover of whatever the modern equivalent of Tiger Beat was. Daoine Sidhe are always prettier than they have any right to be. “I hate you,” he said.

“True,” I agreed. “Now get up.”

I was the first out of the car, with Tybalt close behind me. Lowri started toward us as soon as I emerged, which made her previous stillness even more obvious. It finally registered that she wasn’t wearing a disguise: her tunic was in Arden’s colors, belted at the waist, leaving her goatish legs bare. Her goat-like ears hung almost to her shoulders, covered in a thin layer of silver-brown fur, and her eyes had horizontal pupils. No one could ever have mistaken her for human.

“This whole area’s been warded off, hasn’t it?” I asked.

Lowri nodded. “No mortals, not until you’re up the hill and safely in Queen Windermere’s Court. She asked me to wait here for you, and add your car to the spell as soon as you arrived. I’m sorry I didn’t ask you first. I was following orders.”

“Next time, I recommend you search those orders for flexibility,” snarled Tybalt, showing the tip of one pointed incisor. His teeth hadn’t been that sharp before. He was genuinely angry.

“I will try,” said Lowri deferentially. She looked past us to the others, eyes widening as she saw who was staggering out of the car. Then, before either Tybalt or I could say anything, she dropped to one knee, head bowed. “Your Highness.”

She wasn’t supposed to know that. I turned to look behind me. Quentin met my eyes, expression broadcasting alarm and dismay so clearly that it was a wonder he’d ever been able to conceal his title at all. May was yawning, Spike slung over one shoulder and her suitcase clutched in her other hand. She had left the trunk open after she retrieved it. Walther . . .

Walther had dropped his human disguise and taken off his glasses before getting out of the car. He shook his head, looking resigned. “Not me, I’m afraid. You’ve mistaken me for my cousin Torsten.” He caught my stare and smirked. “Not everyone you know can be royalty in hiding, Toby. Arden was about your limit.”

He still didn’t know about Quentin. I schooled my face back into something more neutral, and said, “You didn’t tell me you were related to the royal family of Silences.”

“I’m Tylwyth Teg. So were they. By definition, I’m at least distantly related to them.” Walther walked over to join us, bending to offer Lowri his hand. “Seriously, get up. I know where Torsten is, and he’s not here.”

“Dead?” Lowri asked, lifting her head and looking up at him.

“Sleeping,” said Walther, still holding out his hand. “I saw him fall. The arrow caught him in his shoulder, and he toppled from his horse, and he didn’t get back up. But he wasn’t dead. Still isn’t, unless the usurper chose to kill them all when they woke.”

“Wait—what do you mean, when they woke?” I asked.

“The war was fought shortly after the death of King Gilad,” said Walther. “That was more than a hundred years ago. Elf-shot, even when it’s mixed by a master, can only put someone to sleep for a hundred years. Any members of the royal family who were elf-shot during the war, rather than being killed outright, would have woken up sometime in the last few years.”

“But killing them now would be a violation of Oberon’s Law, which is bad, so there’s a good chance the current King of Silences just had them elf-shot again instead,” I said slowly. Oberon’s Law allowed for killing purebloods during times of war. Any other time . . . it was the one thing that was truly forbidden. “Sweet Titania, that’s messed up.”

“Tell me about it,” said Walther. Lowri finally took his hand. He helped her off the ground, smiling wryly, and said, “I’m Walther Davies. Your prince is in another castle.”

She looked at him blankly. “What?”

Walther sighed and let her go. “See, this is why I never have anyone to talk to. My students have ruined me.”