Chimes at Midnight

“And the Library is neutral ground,” I said thoughtfully. “Even if the Queen wants to cause problems for you there, she can’t. All Mags has to do is refuse to let her into the stacks. Okay. We’ll go with that. And, uh, bring donuts or something to apologize to Mags for my exploiting my Library pass.”


“Will do,” said Quentin.

May looked relieved. “I guess I can take a few headshots for the cause if Jazz will be safely out of the line of fire.”

Arden looked confused. I glanced at her, explaining, “May is literally indestructible. As near as we can tell, she can’t die now that she’s no longer connected to me.”

“Oh,” said Arden.

It was time for the part that wasn’t going to go over so well. I turned to Tybalt, and took a deep breath. “Tybalt . . .”

“Ah.” His eyes narrowed. “This is where you once again ask me to leave you for someone else to defend, and trust that I will do it simply because you claim that it is necessary. Really, October. I thought this time, perhaps, your endless assurances that you weren’t going to send me away might last a little longer.”

“I’m not sending you away. I want us to end up in the same place, because I need you to go break Nolan out with me. I just need you to do something else, first.” I tucked my hair back behind one ear, trying to ignore the snarling from my stomach. “I need you to go and ask the cats for help.”

He blinked. “You what? October, the Court of Cats cannot fight—”

“No, they can’t. This is a matter of succession for the Divided Courts, and it would be completely inappropriate for the Court of Cats to get involved. But if they happened to be hanging out in Muir Woods before hostilities were formally declared, and accidentally served as an early warning system . . .”

Tybalt blinked, and then smiled, although his pupils remained hairline-thin. “You have gotten trickier. It suits you. I am not happy about this request, but I can see the wisdom in it, much as I might wish not to. I will ask them.”

“And since you’re the King of Cats, that means they’ll do it, right?”

He snorted. “So long in my company, and yet you still know so little of the feline mind. Some will cooperate. Others will find better things to do with their time.”

“Fair enough.” Even partial cooperation would give us the manpower we needed to make this work out. Of course, there was one other stumbling block to be overcome . . . “Someone needs to explain what’s going on to Sylvester.”

Now Tybalt’s eyes widened. “You cannot be serious.”

“I am.” I could have called. Sylvester would have listened. But I didn’t want them fighting any longer than was absolutely necessary—and more, sending Tybalt would impress on Sylvester just how important this really was.

“He kept me from you.”

“And now he can pay back a little of the debt he incurred to me in doing that. He can come and fight beside us. Please.”

Tybalt simply stared at me for a long moment. Then he stepped closer. “You were less trouble before I told you that I loved you.” This said, he bowed his head, and kissed me, long and slow and sweet. Despite the fact that we were surrounded by people, I kissed him back.

When he pulled away, he sighed. “Where shall I meet you?”

“Come to Muir Woods,” I said. “I’m going to go there with Arden and the others to get the knowe open. Once that’s done, it’ll be time for you and me to hit the Queen’s dungeons.”

“Ah,” he said. “The simple pleasures.” He turned to Arden, offering another shallow bow. “Highness,” he said. “May you have the best of luck in claiming the throne you once refused. I know it is a difficult choice to make. I hope you will have as many joys in your place as I have had in mine.” He pivoted on his heel, walking out of the dining room.

I turned back to the others, pulling my jacket a little tighter as I said, “All right, then: we know what we’re doing, we know where we’re going, and we know this isn’t going to be much fun. I’m going to call Goldengreen before we leave here. May, go wake Jazz. Quentin, go call Raj. Arden, eat a sandwich. You’re going to need it. Danny . . .”