One Salt Sea: An October Daye Novel

“Not really—Jessica, you put your brother down!—why do you ask?” I couldn’t blame her for sounding a little suspicious. Being one of my best friends has taught her to be wary of unexpected phone calls.

“I have to go to a thing at the Queen’s Court tonight, and I have nothing to wear.” I picked up a denim skirt from the closet floor. Either May had been committing acts of appliqué on my clothes, or it was hers. “Also, if I try to do my own hair, I’ll wind up looking like someone’s prize collie.”

Stacy paused before asking, “Toby, what’s going on?”

I bit back a sigh. Sometimes having observant friends is more trouble than it’s worth. “It’s a diplomatic event. Representatives from the local Undersea Duchy will be there, and I’m supposed to represent Goldengreen, which means dressing like an adult.”

“Ah, the joys of being a Countess.” Stacy sounded relieved. “Diplomatic event” apparently didn’t set off any warning bells in her head. “Do you need me to help you get ready?”

“Please?”

“No problem. Is May there?”

“Not right now. Why?”

“I have a horrible scarf for her. Karen silk-screened it in art class.”

“I’m sure she’ll love it. See you in an hour?”

“Something like that. Open roads.” She hung up.

Most of the contents of my closet were on the floor by that point. I prodded them with a toe as I sat down on the bed. Assuming Stacy left when she said she was going to, I had about forty-five minutes to get cleaned up, get more coffee, and make a few more calls. I sighed and started dialing.

My next call was to a Glastig named Bucer O’Malley. We used to live together in a place called Home, back when I thought “street thug” was a legitimate career aspiration. We hadn’t worked together in a long time, but I knew he was still in the Kingdom. A lot of Devin’s former kids have stayed at least loosely in touch, tied by shared secrets and shared shame. If anyone local had hired a kidnapper, Bucer would know.

He didn’t pick up his phone. I left a vague message, including the strong suggestion that he call me back, and dialed again, calling a contact I felt a lot better about: Danny, the Bridge Troll cab driver who’s somehow become an ally of mine. I blame it on his underdeveloped sense of self-preservation. I’m just glad he’s on my side. Sometimes it’s handy to have a seven-foot-tall mountain that walks like a man and is willing to hit things on my behalf.

“Yo,” said Danny, shouting to be heard over the barking of his pack of resident Barghests. His house could give Stacy’s a run for the money in the area of sheer noise.

“Hey, Danny, it’s Toby.”

“Tobes!” he said, with undisguised delight. “What’s up, girl? You need a ride somewhere?”

“Not a ride—a favor. Have you heard about what’s going on with Saltmist?”

The delight vanished instantly. “Not in so many words, but everyone knows somethin’s up. Nobody’s seen any of the Merrow that usually hang by the docks for days, an’ most of the Selkies are gone, too. There somethin’ I need to be aware of?”

“Well, we may be going to war. Does that count?” His silence said it did. “I want you to start asking around. See if anybody’s come into money recently, or if anyone unfamiliar has been shopping around for henchmen.”

“On it,” said Danny. “You got anything else you need?”

“The sons of the Duchess of Saltmist have disappeared. I need to find them. First, I need to attend a diplomatic gathering at the Queen’s Court. So if there’s anything you can do while I’m unavoidably detained, I’d be in your debt.”

“Don’t need you in my debt, girly. Just need you to keep breathin’.”

“I’m working on that. Open roads, Danny.”

“Same to you.”