One Salt Sea: An October Daye Novel

“Yeah, we’ve got bogeys. They’re sort of in charge here. It’s a long story.” I stuck my head into the kitchen. Marcia was at the counter, directing a pair of Urisks and a young Barrow Wight through the process of making bread. “Hey, Marcia?” I called. “Can I borrow you for a second?”


She looked up, smiling brilliantly. A smudge of flour was on one cheek, just under the circles of faerie ointment that ringed her eyes. “Toby!” She patted one of the Urisks on the shoulder. “You guys are doing fine. Just keep doing what you’re doing—and try not to get any more bogeys in the dough, okay? I’ll be right back.” Apparently satisfied that she’d managed to keep her apprentices from giving us all food poisoning, she walked toward us, wiping her hands on her apron. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be at the Queen’s Court. And who’s your friend?”

“This is Sir Etienne of Shadowed Hills. Etienne, this is my seneschal, Marcia.”

If Etienne was surprised to hear that a quarter-blood changeling was my seneschal, he was well-bred enough not to show it. Instead, he offered her a shallow bow, and said, “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Marcia, dipping a quick curtsy before turning her attention back on me. “So what’s going on? Did you stop the war?”

“Not quite. I’m still working on it.” I briefly considered telling her about Gillian, but dismissed the idea. Marcia had enough to worry about. I didn’t want to make things worse until I absolutely had to. “Do you have a pen I can borrow?”

“A pen?” She blinked before rummaging in the pocket of her apron and producing a plain ballpoint pen. There were tooth marks in the white plastic. It looked so ordinary I could have cried. “Will this work?”

“That will work just fine.” I took the pen, pulling one of Dianda’s bottles from my pocket. “I need to write a note. While I’m doing that, can you make sure the solarium is cleared out? I’m going to make a few phone calls, and then I need to invite some visitors over to talk to me.”

“Visitors?” said Etienne, frowning.

“The solarium?” said Marcia. Her frown was less concerned, and more thoughtful. “Sure. We’ve been using it for storage, but we can shift everything in there out to the hallway.”

“Do that. I’m going to need some privacy.” What I was considering was probably insane. At that moment, I didn’t care. Rayseline Torquill had my daughter, and there was one person in the world who was likely to know where she was.

The Selkie who she’d killed.

I opened the first bottle, shaking out the scrap of paper and pressing it flat against the doorframe. “Etienne, when you get back to Shadowed Hills, let Sylvester know about the disguise Raysel used in the Queen’s Court. I mean, it’s not likely she’ll try to sneak into the knowe, but you never know, right? Better safe than sorry.”

“Of course,” he said, frowning. “What do you mean, ‘visitors’? Who are you asking to come here?”

“Pretty much everyone.” I tapped the paper, and then went back to scribbling. My handwriting is nothing to brag about, but it’s legible. Usually. “This is an update for the Duchess of Saltmist, since I’d rather she didn’t get pissed off because she thinks I’m withholding information. Then I’m going to call May, and have her bring the car—”

“You’re going to let her drive?” said Marcia, sounding both horrified and amazed.

“I need the car. Can you think of a better way to get it here?” I handed Marcia her pen before rerolling the scrap of paper and tucking it back into the bottle. “Anyway, as I was saying, I’m going to call May. And then I’m going to call the Luidaeg, and ask her for a quick and dirty version of the ritual I used to summon the night-haunts.”

“What?” demanded Etienne.

“What?” echoed Marcia.

“I really don’t have time to argue about this.” I corked the bottle, checking twice to be sure the seal was tight. Dianda said it would find her. I wanted it to find her with the contents intact. “I’m going to call the night-haunts.”