Chimes at Midnight

Marcia blinked, blue eyes going puzzled within their protective mask of fae ointment. “What kind of proposition?”


“Simple: I want them to take these ribbons and scatter them around the city. That way, when the Queen sets her men on me, she’ll be able to find traces of my presence everywhere, not just where I’ve actually been.” I shrugged. “If she’s going to insist on transforming my clothing without my consent, she can deal with the consequences.”

“That’s . . . actually pretty clever,” said Marcia.

“I try,” I said, and watched as she raised her broom and rapped it against the rafters. Tiny, multicolored heads popped into view as the pixies that had been lurking overhead checked to see what was going on. I offered them a little wave. “Hi. You guys want to do me a favor?”

The pixies left the rafters in a swarm, surrounding us. Some landed on my shoulders and head. More hovered in front of my face, waiting to hear what the “favor” would constitute.

“I need to mess with the Queen,” I said. “Can you take these ribbons and scatter them around the city, so she can’t tell where I am?”

One of the pixies rang in a questioning tone.

“I’m prepared to pay you three bags of cheeseburgers from the fast food joint of your choosing.” They’d choose McDonald’s, if the swarms of pixies around the dumpsters were anything to go by, but that was no big deal. There are several in the city, and they’d all seen stranger things than a woman buying half her bodyweight in food.

The pixie rang again.

“Three bags a week for the next month,” I amended.

A third ring.

“With fries.”

That seemed to satisfy her. She turned to the other pixies, ringing turning strident. I held out the fistful of ribbons. Pixies darted in from every direction, each snatching a single ribbon before darting away. A few even went for my hair, fishing out ribbons Tybalt had missed. It was like being at the center of a very accessory-oriented swarm. I didn’t move until they were done. Neither did Tybalt and Quentin. Pixies are nowhere near as harmless as they look. If I didn’t keep up my side of the bargain, they’d begin invading the house, and their homemade spears were frequently tipped with poison. I made it a rule never to break a bargain with a pixie.

After the last ribbon had been whisked away and the last pixie had vanished down the hall, I turned back to Marcia and said, “We’re going to take off. You okay here?”

Marcia worried her lip between her teeth before she nodded. “I’ll be fine. I’m just not sure how Dean is going to handle all this. He’s only been Count for a little while.”

“He’ll be fine,” I said. “He’s had way more preparation than I did, and I didn’t get us all killed. Besides, he has you to help.”

“That’s not as encouraging as you think.” She flapped her free hand at us. “Go. We’ll call if there’s any trouble.”

“Okay. Can you also call if Arden decides to cut bait and run? I need to know if I should start packing my things.”

“We will,” she pledged.

“I know she’s in good hands,” I said.

She smiled a little. “I do my best.”

We could have kept on saying good-bye for hours, since none of us were in a hurry to go back into the Queen’s line of sight. With a sigh, I turned away from her, offering Tybalt a wan smile, and asked, “Shadowed Hills?”

“I’ve been waiting for that particular request, since I know the Queen will be expecting you to be seen there,” he said. “May I suggest, instead, that we return to your house? Once there, you can drive yourself and Quentin to Duke Torquill’s domain, and I can handle certain necessities at the Court of Cats before I come to collect you.”