Chimes at Midnight

“Don’t be. I mean, I’m your death omen. I don’t exactly have the right to demand to be a part of your life.” We pulled up in front of Borderlands, visible now that Arden was with us. She hopped out, trotting toward the darkened storefront. May tracked Arden’s movements, her smile fading. “She really does look just like her father. It’s weird. I never thought I’d see those eyes again.”


If we survived this, May could tell Arden what she remembered about King Gilad; Arden was going to find out where Fetches came from eventually, if she didn’t already know. It occurred to me that I didn’t have any idea what she did or didn’t know about Faerie. She’d been young when she went into her self-imposed exile, and her education seemed to have been centered on keeping herself and her younger brother safe. How much time would that have left for learning how everything else in our world worked? We might be putting a completely unprepared woman in charge of one of the largest regional Kingdoms in the Westlands . . . and to be entirely honest, I didn’t care. Ignorant or not, Arden was smart; she could learn. And anything would be an improvement over the Queen we were living under.

“Did you know him?” I asked.

“Yeah.” May sunk down in her seat. “I wasn’t him, or anything—that would be too weird—but I was one of his servants, or I remember being one of his servants, a little. She’s patchy. Too many other memories overwrote hers. But I remember seeing Arden in the halls. She was always so serious. She and her brother haunted the knowe like little ghosts. They were so sad, and Gilad would never talk to them when he knew anyone else was around.”

“But that didn’t always include the servants,” I guessed.

May shook her head. “No. He was a good man, but he was still a King, and Kings sometimes forget that servants are people. We knew who she was, and we all kept his secret, because we understood why it was important.”

The cab door opened, and Arden slid into the backseat, forcing May to move into the middle. “The secret is out now,” she said. We looked at her guiltily before May turned to resume bandaging my hands, trying to act like she’d been doing that all along.

“Arden—” I began.

“I heard enough,” she said, cutting me off. “I’m not going to ask what it all meant, because this isn’t the time. But once we’re finished taking back my Kingdom, you’re going to explain everything to me. Do you understand? Everything.”

“I hope you have a lot of time to kill,” said May.

I offered Arden a sheepish smile. “Sorry. Things get chaotic around me sometimes.”

“You don’t say.”

The front passenger door opened. Madden flung himself into the seat, beaming. “Hi!”

“Hi, Madden,” May and I chorused dutifully.

He turned a hopeful expression on Danny. “Can I . . . ?” he asked.

Danny chuckled. “Sure thing,” he said, and started the cab. “Just don’t jump out the window while we’re moving, okay?”

“Okay!” said Madden, and shimmered, replaced by a large white dog with red-furred ears. His eyes were surrounded by matching circles, giving him an almost panda-like quality. Danny hit a button. Madden’s window rolled down, and he stuck his head outside.

“Dogs are weird,” I said.

“Says the woman who voluntarily travels with a cat,” said Arden, turning back to me. “Will all those people you named before really come to help us?”

“I know the Undersea will; they’re going to want Dianda back, and this is a way to accomplish that without actually going to war this week. Not that they’d be opposed to a good war, but that’s something I’d rather avoid. Shadowed Hills . . .” I paused, trying to find the words for my complicated relationship with Sylvester Torquill. I settled for saying, “My liege holds Shadowed Hills, and he’s never failed to come to my aid when I truly needed him. I absolutely believe he’ll be there for me now. And he likes the current Queen about as much as I do.”

“An’ Toby hates her,” said Danny.

May sighed. “Danny. Don’t explain the joke.”