One Salt Sea: An October Daye Novel

“I’ve been answering the phone like that since Jin called to say that you’d left Shadowed Hills. Where are you? Is Tybalt with you? What happened? Where’s Gillian?”


“I’m at Goldengreen, and I’m pretty sure you’d just freak out more if I told you what happened over the phone, so how about I tell you when you get here?”

May paused. “When I get there? What?”

“I need you to bring the car over.”

“Um.” May managed to pack a truly impressive amount of dubiousness into a single syllable. “Toby? Jazz doesn’t drive, Quentin’s too young to get a license—and I don’t think he’s had driver’s education—and Raj is, well, Raj. How are we supposed to get the car to you?”

“You’re going to get the spare key from the bowl on my dresser, and you’re going to drive.”

“You’re not really Toby, are you? You’re a Doppelganger or something. Toby would never tell me to drive her car to Goldengreen.”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures. Besides, how bad can it be?”

“I hate you,” said May balefully.

“So you’ll come?”

“We’re on our way.” She hung up.

I had to smother a smile. My former Fetch is the worst driver I’ve ever met. She might, with a little effort, be the worst driver in the world. I just hoped Quentin and Raj were smart enough to wear their seat belts.

I dialed again as I walked across the courtyard, heading for the hall that connected it to the knowe’s unused throne room. It was the only room in the knowe that Evening really seemed to be fond of. We’ve left it empty, partially in honor of her, and partially because it creeps the rest of us out. Even the bogeys stay away. I don’t know exactly why . . . but Evening’s fondness for using pixies as lighting fixtures may have had something to do with it.

Getting through the mortal phone system and into the limited fae exchange requires a unique approach to dialing. I hit all the keys in a clockwise spiral, then repeated the pattern in the opposite direction. I hit the “five” three more times for good measure.

“Please hold while your party is reached,” I said, singsong. “You may press the pound sign to return to this menu at any time. To be assassinated by a tribe of warrior grasshoppers, press three.”

The phone beeped twice before beginning to hiss shrilly. That was a good sign. That meant the connection was working. I punched another succession of buttons, this time running through the multiples of nine, until the hissing was replaced with the sound of cement grinders grinding away on the other end. I stopped walking, leaning up against the wall next to the dais that used to hold Evening’s throne.

The cement grinders ground for a few seconds more, then stopped abruptly, replaced by the Luidaeg demanding, “October? Is that you?”

The sound of her voice filled me with a profound sense of relief. I closed my eyes, allowing myself to sag against the wall. “Luidaeg,” I said. “Yeah. It’s me.”

“What’s going on? Did the transformation charm work? Why haven’t you checked in?”

“Yes, it worked, I haven’t checked in because I passed out after Tybalt threw me onto the Shadow Roads to keep me from getting elf-shot, and what’s going on is that Rayseline’s insane. She took my daughter, Luidaeg. She took Gillian.” My voice was verging on a panicked whine. I forced myself to pull it back. “Why would she do that?” I asked, more softly. “Why would she take Gilly?”

“To throw you off-balance,” said the Luidaeg, not missing a beat. “To hurt you.” There was something in her voice I didn’t like. Normally, the Luidaeg is so honest it hurts. She may not give complete answers, but the ones she does give are entirely true. Now . . . I didn’t get the impression that she was lying to me, but I definitely felt like there was something she wasn’t letting herself say.

I took a deep breath. “Luidaeg? What aren’t you saying?”

“Toby . . .” The Luidaeg sighed. “She’s just a quarter-blood. Maybe less, given what your mother did to you when you were a little girl. That’s protected her until now.”