An Artificial Night

“Toby,” she said, smiling sadly.

“Your Grace.” I helped Quentin guide Katie to a seat before turning and walking back to them, folding my hands behind my back. Spike sat at my feet, trilling. “I got them back.”

“I see that,” she said. “How much did it cost you?”

“Enough.”

Sylvester finally closed his mouth, swallowing before he said, “October? What happened?”

Forcing myself to look up and meet his eyes, I said, “The Luidaeg did it so I could get into Blind Michael’s lands on the Children’s Road.”

“The Luidaeg.” Anger sparked in his eyes. I braced myself, waiting for him to yell. Instead, he turned toward Luna, words laced with a cold fury as he said, “You sent her to the Luidaeg.”

“I did.” She looked at him with a brittle, resolute calm. “You knew I would. You knew it was the only way.”

“You could have—”

“No.” The word was flat, carrying a world of finality. “I couldn’t.”

“We’ll discuss this later,” he said, and looked back to me, asking, “Did you go alone?”

It took me a moment to find my voice. I was too stunned by Sylvester’s anger at Luna. Finally, I said, “Yes. I did.”

“I followed her,” said Quentin, still standing with his hands on Katie’s shoulders.

His words didn’t seem to register with Sylvester, who was shaking his head, anger fading into exhaustion. “Oh, Toby, Toby, Toby. You went to the Luidaeg and then to face Blind Michael alone.” He sounded utterly resigned. Somehow, that was worse than anger would have been. “Why did you do that?”

“Because I had to.” Because that madman took my kids, and my Fetch was already here, so there was no point in not going. Because I had debts to pay and no one else would do it for me. “You knew I was going after him. What did you expect me to do?”

“I was hoping you’d find a safer way.” He cast a sidelong look at Luna, who glanced away, looking ashamed. “If that wasn’t possible, I hoped you’d take someone with you.”

“Got any suggestions?” I sighed. “Quentin followed me, or I wouldn’t even have taken him. I try not to risk anybody’s neck but my own.”

Sylvester shook his head. “You never think about keeping yourself alive, do you?”

“Well, if you listen to what people keep telling me, I get that particular tendency from my mother,” I said. “I get it from you, too, you know.”

“You don’t get a bit of it from your mother,” he said, reaching out to brush my hair away from my face. “She never would have gone. Now stop it. You don’t want to be a hero.”

“Never said I did,” I replied, with a sigh. “Forgive me?”

“Always.” He dropped to one knee and hugged me. I wanted to stay there and let him hold me for a little while—he’s the closest thing I have to a father, and I needed the reassurance—but Quentin needed me as much as I needed Sylvester, and I had duties to fulfill. I slipped out of his arms with a murmur of apology, walking back to where Quentin was waiting with Katie.

Quentin was stroking Katie’s hair with the back of his hand, staring into her wide, empty eyes. I wasn’t sure he’d even heard my conversation with Sylvester after his interjection; he was far away, wrapped in his own potential loss.

I put my hand on his shoulder. “How is she?”

He turned to look at me, expression pleading for me to tell him that everything would be okay. I could see it in his eyes. And I couldn’t do it. “What did you do to her?”

“It’s just a little confusion spell—it’s all I was strong enough to cast. She’s sinking all on her own. I can’t stop her.” I looked back to Sylvester and Luna. “Can you help her?”

“Fix what’s been done?” Luna shook her head. “I can’t . . . we can’t . . . no. There’s nothing we can do for her.”

Why didn’t I believe her? Keeping my eyes on Luna, I asked cautiously, “Blind Michael’s that powerful?”