Chimes at Midnight

LOWRI LED US OUT of the receiving hall and through the familiar rocky cave to the beach. We trudged across the beach to the parking lot, where only a few cars had stuck out the night without being ticketed or towed. I glanced toward the horizon, which was only just beginning to brighten with false dawn. Tybalt followed my gaze.

“We should have time to reach the woods,” he said.

“If we don’t hit traffic,” I agreed.

“This is me,” said Lowri, drawing our attention to a battered brown station wagon that looked like it had been manufactured sometime in the mid-1970s. Electrical tape held the back and front bumpers in place, and patched a large hole in the rear passenger-side door.

“I don’t know much about human-world cars, but I’m pretty sure that’s not a good one,” said Dianda dubiously.

“Her Highness doesn’t allow her guard to take jobs in the mortal world,” said Lowri, digging keys out of her pocket. The human disguise she had crafted for herself concealed her hooves and goat-like ears, and made her royal livery look like jeans and an old green sweater. I wasn’t sure where the pocket was on her actual clothing, and for once, I had the sense not to ask. “Surprisingly, most mechanics don’t accept payment in dewdrops and moonbeams.”

“But it runs?” asked Tybalt, eyeing the car.

“I can usually talk somebody who understands cars into a freebie when things get bad,” she said. “It runs.” Glastig are masters of persuasion. If Lowri focused on a mortal mechanic, they’d have no chance of telling her no.

Somehow, I couldn’t find it in myself to judge her. We do what we have to in order to survive in this world. When your regent won’t let you work, you find another way to keep body and soul together—no matter how unethical that may seem.

“Help me get Nolan into the back,” I said, dragging the unconscious Prince the last few feet toward the car. “Dianda, can you ride with him?”

“Sure.” She eyed Tybalt speculatively as she opened the car door. “Where’s he going to ride? In the way back?”

“He’s not going to ride at all,” I said. “He’s going to take the Shadow Roads to Muir Woods and find out what’s happening there. That way, we’re not walking in blind.”

Tybalt shot me a look that was half gratitude, half annoyance, grabbing Nolan’s knees and helping me hoist him into the backseat. “When were you intending to tell me I was doing this?”

“When you saw the car and realized you were too tired to deal with this shit.” I guided Nolan into a seated position, fastening the belt across his waist. He slumped sideways. Dianda, who was in the process of getting into her own seat, pushed him upright again. “Taking the Shadow Roads alone shouldn’t be too tiring. You can meet us at the parking lot with an update.”

Tybalt eyed the car for a moment. Then he sighed. “I suppose some early reconnaissance would not be amiss. If she,” he indicated Lowri, “proves to be another turncoat, please dispose of her before she can dispose of you.”

“I promise,” I said, and shut the car door. “See you in Muir Woods.”

“Indeed.” He turned and walked away, vanishing into the shadows at the edge of the parking lot.

I turned back to the car to find Lowri watching me. I shrugged. “He gets protective.”

“It’s not that,” she said. “It’s . . . I’d heard rumors that you were involved with the King of Cats? But I didn’t credit them. Not because you’re a changeling,” she added hurriedly. “I’ve just never known a Cait Sidhe monarch to court outside the, um, well, Court.”

“We’re a special case,” I said, getting into the car. “Do you know the way to Muir Woods?”

Lowri nodded.