One Salt Sea: An October Daye Novel

Like any large knowe, Shadowed Hills is riddled with back routes and servants’ halls, all tucked out of sight of the casual visitor. They provide the most direct routes through the knowe. Quentin uses the back routes through the knowe as much as he uses the main halls, and I’ve learned a lot about navigating quickly since I started paying attention to where he goes. Getting from the guest rooms to the Garden of Glass Roses would normally be a ten-or fifteen-minute walk. By cutting behind the bulk of the walls and major thoroughfares, I got there in less than five.

The Garden of Glass Roses has always been one of my favorite parts of Shadowed Hills. Luna is a supernaturally skilled gardener, and nothing displays her skills as well as her living glass rosebushes. Not everything in the garden is glass—just the rosebushes and the butterflies—but the light that filters through them throws stained-glass shadows over everything, making the whole place seem like a cathedral. Few people go there; it’s a place for introspection more than casual strolls. Normal roses have thorns, but they don’t cut deep enough to leave you needing stitches. Glass roses are another story.

The door from the servants’ halls was concealed behind a stand of love-lies-bleeding. I stepped through and eased the door closed before moving into the open. “Tybalt?”

He whirled, eyes going wide. Then he smiled so broadly that it was like a second sunrise, starting toward me at a pace just shy of a jog. “October,” he said, relief naked in his tone. “You’re awake.”

“It had to happen eventually,” I said. He reached for my hands. I pulled them away, crossing my arms until I was practically hugging myself, like somehow that would defend me. From what, I didn’t entirely know. “What happened back there?”

“I—you were—I saw—” Tybalt stopped, and sighed, something unendurably weary in his eyes. “They almost shot you. I had to remove you from the line of fire.”

“So you pushed me into the Shadow Roads? Maeve’s teeth, Tybalt, did you not pause to think that maybe something could go wrong with that particular stroke of genius?”

He shook his head. “No. I did not pause. I did not hesitate. Your life was in danger, and while I knew the Shadow Roads would be less than hospitable, I also knew they wouldn’t kill you. I’m sorry to have harmed you. I’m sorry to have caused you distress. But what I did, I did to save you, and I would do it again, were the same moment to be set before me.”

I glared at him. He glared back. Finally, I said, “I’m supposed to be at the Queen’s Court at dusk. I should really get moving if I’m going to be on time.”

“Then we should go.”

I raised an eyebrow. “We?”

“We,” he said, firmly. “Be as angry with me as you like, October; the fact remains that you need me, at least for now. As I have already said, I’m sorry to have harmed you. I’m not sorry, in the slightest, to have saved you.”

I sighed. “You’re right. Come on.” The question of how we’d get from Pleasant Hill to San Francisco without my car or a trip down the Shadow Roads could be answered once we started moving. If all else failed, I could always call Danny.

“October . . .”

“Not now.” I shook my head. “We need to have this conversation, but we need to do it at a time that isn’t now. After Gilly’s back. After we stop this war. After I’ve had time to finish being mad at you.”

Tybalt smiled, very slightly, and nodded. “I suppose I can accept that.”

“Good,” I said. “Now come on.”

We walked to the garden door. The hall outside was deserted. That made sense. It was afternoon; most of Shadowed Hills would be asleep for a few more hours at least.

“Where do we begin?” Tybalt asked.

Now that I was past the initial rush of fury, every inch of me was screaming that I needed to go, go, find my daughter, and let the rest of Faerie hang. I couldn’t do that. Thankfully, I didn’t have to; finding Gillian would mean finding Rayseline, and the missing Lorden boys. I could do everything at once—assuming I could accomplish anything at all.

“First, we need to see Sylvester,” I said. “I have to tell him what we’ve learned. He needs to understand what’s been going on.”

“This isn’t likely to be something he’ll want to hear.”