Ashes of Honor: An October Daye Novel

WE EMERGED IN A SMALL, familiar antechamber inside Riordan’s knowe. Quentin stumbled, shivering and trying not to cough. I managed to keep my feet, barely, and only because I knew we needed to do as little knocking about as possible. We were in enemy territory now, and if we were found, things weren’t going to go well for us.

Tybalt was leaning against the wall opposite from Quentin, his own eyes closed. The effort of carrying two of us immediately after he’d been injured appeared to have exhausted him. I bent forward, bracing my hands on my knees, and forced myself to take deep, slow breaths.

“It’s so much easier when we take the Tuatha Express,” I mumbled.

“The cost of travel should be high,” said Tybalt. He straightened and paced toward the entrance to the antechamber. “It’s what keeps us from roving frivolously.”

“Etienne seems to think it’s pretty hard, at least when he’s going more than a few miles,” I said. “He doesn’t usually teleport casually. But Chelsea isn’t playing by the usual rules.”

“Yes. I know.” Tybalt shook his head. “The shadows are starting to push back against us. They only do that when their destination is unclear, or when they have nowhere to end. The tethers between the Shadow Roads and the Summerlands are beginning to fray—as are the tethers between the Shadow Roads and the mortal world. If this continues too long, we may find ourselves with nowhere to run.”

I thought about that for a second, then put the thought aside. It was too big a problem for me to fix; it was something I couldn’t hit. All I could do was get Chelsea to stop ripping holes and let the people who could fix things get to work.

Of course, that meant we couldn’t stay huddled in this tiny antechamber forever. “Riordan’s guards are mostly Folletti,” I said. “I can tell when they’re nearby, but only if I’m looking for them. Most of the time, they’re going to be effectively invisible.”

“Charming,” said Tybalt.

“Yeah. Can you scout the hall? Just make sure we’re alone before we leave here.”

“It would be my pleasure,” said Tybalt. The smell of musk and pennyroyal swirled around him and he was gone, replaced by a large tabby tomcat. He walked over to me, rubbed himself against my ankles, and turned to slink out of the antechamber, vanishing behind the tapestry that covered the entrance.

Quentin had his breathing back under control. He came to stand next to me, and we stayed where we were, waiting for whatever was going to come next. I kept one hand on my knife and the other on Quentin’s shoulder, ready to shove him behind me if something attacked us. I could take the damage. He couldn’t.

The minutes ticked by. I was on the verge of becoming genuinely worried when the fabric of the tapestry stirred, and Tybalt slunk back into the room, ears pressed flat and tail carried low to the ground.

I let out a relieved breath. “Took you long enough,” I said.

The smell of pennyroyal and musk rose around him. He straightened on two legs, a troubled expression on his face. “Going unseen is an art as much as a skill,” he said. “I can smell the Folletti when I go in feline form. That doesn’t make it wise for me to risk discovery by exposing myself where they might see.”

“What did you find?”

“These chambers are scattered all along this hall, and the ones to either side. It seems our Duchess Riordan is quite fond of the spy’s art, providing she can control the placement of the spies. I doubt she would be pleased to know we were using her clever hidey-holes against her.”