Chimes at Midnight

“You, too,” said Quentin.

He was right: Dean was looking well. Life on land agreed with him. As the son of a Merrow and a Daoine Sidhe, Dean was born with a fifty-fifty chance of taking after his mother. Unfortunately for him, he lost that coin toss, although it could have been worse: he could have been a merman who couldn’t breathe water. Instead, he was basically a normal Daoine Sidhe whose mother happened to be the Duchess of the largest local Undersea demesne. Dean had spent the first eighteen years of his life in the ocean, until he was kidnapped as part of a ploy to start a war between the land and sea. The war didn’t happen; Dean and his brother, Peter, didn’t die; and when it was over, Dean didn’t go back to Saltmist. Not to stay, anyway. He was the Count of Goldengreen now, and that meant he finally got the chance to start living on the land.

Dean had his father’s hair, bronze with a light sheen of greenish verdigris, and his mother’s eyes, the blue-black color of deep water. His skin had acquired some color since he claimed Goldengreen; while he was still pale, he no longer looked like a ghost. He was wearing jeans and a gray pirate shirt which would have looked silly if he hadn’t been so clearly comfortable. His feet were bare, exposing slightly webbed toes.

“I didn’t know we were going to visit today either,” I admitted. “But I’ve just been to see the Queen, and now I need your help.”

“Anything,” said Dean. He glanced involuntarily to his left hand. The stump of his little finger had healed cleanly, but it remained a reminder of what he had gone through while he was held captive.

“I need to talk to your parents. Do you think you could call them and see if they can come?”

“Um . . . sure?” Dean blinked. “Why do you need to talk to my parents?”

I took a deep breath, stalling while I tried to decide exactly what to tell him. In the end, it was easiest to go with the truth. “I went to talk to the Queen about the goblin fruit that’s been flooding the streets. Things got a little . . . heated . . . and she banished me.”

“From her Court?” asked Dean.

“From her Kingdom. I have three days. The Luidaeg told me to talk to people who knew King Gilad. That means your parents.”

There was a clatter behind us. We all turned to see Marcia picking up a tray of sandwiches from the floor. “Sorry!” she said. “Sorry, sorry, I tripped over my own feet, sorry.”

“It’s okay, I do that all the time,” said Dean. He was still staring at me, looking a little stunned. “Walking is hard.”

“Gravity sucks,” I agreed. “So can you call them?”

“Didn’t you go to the Undersea on your own last time you needed to talk to Mom? She’s sort of land-averse.” He hesitated before adding, “And maybe she could let you stay in Saltmist for a while.”

I grimaced. “Okay, yes, I went to the Undersea last time, but I had to let the Luidaeg turn me into a Merrow in order to do that. I’m not a big water person. Your mother’s land-aversion? Multiply that times a thousand and you’ve got me and water. Oh, and I’m even less fond of being turned into things. So if there’s any chance she’s willing to come up here, that would be much, much better.” I didn’t touch the idea of my hiding in the Undersea. Horrifying as it was to contemplate, there was a very real chance that things could go that way.

“Toby was a fish for a while,” Quentin informed him, in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. Fourteen years.”