One Salt Sea: An October Daye Novel

“Why?” asked Marcia.

“Rayseline killed a Selkie in her effort to steal the Lorden boys from their home. October believes that the murder victim will be able to provide her with answers,” said Etienne, a slow mixture of revulsion and admiration in his tone. “Sir Daye, I cannot recommend this course of action.”

“Wow, I suggest something this crazy and I go back to being ‘Sir Daye’? What do I have to do to get you to call me ‘Countess’?”

“Let’s not find out,” said Etienne flatly.

“The night is young.” I whistled. One of the knowe’s seemingly countless pixies appeared from inside a cabinet—I probably didn’t want to know what it was doing in there, or how many others were in there with it—and came to hover in front of me at eye-level. I held up the bottle. “Can you throw this into the ocean, please? Don’t open it. Just throw it in the water.”

Pixies are smarter than most people give them credit for. This one planted her hands on her diminutive hips, wings buzzing like mad, and said something incomprehensible in the tinkling language of the pixies.

Fortunately, I’ve had enough experience with the local colony to know what she was probably asking for. “A loaf of bread and a pitcher of cream,” I said, like I was agreeing to something.

The pixie darted forward and grabbed the bottle from my hand before flying out of the kitchen and down the hall. Five more pixies appeared from inside the cabinet and flew after her. The bread-makers didn’t even look up. After you’ve been in Goldengreen for a little while, this sort of thing becomes commonplace.

Marcia looked at me quizzically. “Why did you bribe the pixies? I could have thrown your bottle in the water for free.”

“Mostly because I’m about to summon the night-haunts into their knowe, and I figure that if I’m not going to ask for permission, I should try to make sure they’re in a good mood.”

“I wish that didn’t make sense,” said Marcia, and sighed. “Are you really going to summon the night-haunts?”

“Got a better plan?” Neither of them said anything. “Didn’t think so.”

“I have no desire to witness this,” said Etienne. “I’ll be returning to Shadowed Hills now, if you have no further need of me.”

“No, I’m good,” I said. “Let Sylvester know what’s going on, and what I’m doing.”

Etienne nodded, and offered a small bow to Marcia. Then he turned, stepping out into the hall. The smell of limes and cedar smoke wafted in his wake, and I knew, even without checking, that he was gone.

Marcia glanced after him before asking, “Is there anything I can do?”

“Make bread for the pixies?” I smiled a little. “And tell anyone who comes asking for me that I’m busy until further notice.”

“Got it.” She smiled back, hesitantly. “Are you sure this is safe?”

“Nope. But I need to know.”

There were other things I could have done. I could have called Bucer and tried to bully him into finding me more information. I could have called Danny and begged him to drive me all over the city, looking for traces of Raysel’s magic. I could have asked Tybalt for the loan of his Court, and sent them searching. There are always other options. But all of them would take time, and time was the one thing I wasn’t sure Gillian had. Maybe if I hadn’t passed out after Tybalt threw me into the shadows . . .

But I had. And I needed to find Rayseline, fast.

I dialed my home number as I walked down the hall, nodding genially to the people I passed. I still didn’t know all their names. That made me feel like a bit of a heel, when I thought about it.

May picked up, asking hopefully, “Toby?”

“How did you know it was me?”