One Salt Sea: An October Daye Novel

“I thought you’d never ask.” Stacy’s smile turned impish. “May, we’re ready!”


The bedroom door swung open and May stepped inside, something black draped across her arms. “Hey, Toby. Wow, Stacy, you made her look like a real girl.” With a wink, she added, “That means I like your hair.”

“I got that,” I said, eyeing the fabric she was holding. “Please tell me there’s more dress there than I think there is.”

She thrust her arms out toward me. “Luna said you’d say that. She told me to remind you that part of the purpose of a diplomatic event is looking impressive, which you can’t do in any of the things you pretend are fashionable. Now get dressed.”

“I . . .”

“Get dressed.”

I know when I’m beat. I sighed, and took the dress. It was light enough to seem weightless. I paused, frowning. “Is this spider silk?”

“Yes.”

Spider silk is rare, even by Faerie standards. It’s also unbelievably expensive. Most of it is purchased by purebloods, to wear to events like this one. The lower classes can get away with attending formal events in everyday clothes masked by illusion; members of the nobility are expected to hold themselves to a higher standard, even if they have to sell the farm to do it. People can tell when you’re wearing the real thing and not an illusion—at least, that’s what my mother always said. She lied about a lot of things, but I’ve never had reason to doubt her in the arenas of diplomacy or fashion.

Aware that I was holding a baronial fortune in my arms, I gave the dress a careful look. It looked black at first glance, but shimmered with patches of gold and silver when the light hit it. The colors shifted seamlessly, and the effect was dismayingly reminiscent of moonlight moving across calico scales.

“Try it,” said May, snapping me out of my contemplation. I raised my head, cocking an eyebrow. She met my eyes without hesitation. “It was Amandine’s.”

I stared at her.

May offered a small smile. “Raiding your mom’s closet is a time-honored tradition, right? Come on, Stacy.” She turned, stepping out of the room, with Stacy right behind her.

“We’ll be in the living room,” said Stacy, and closed the door.

“Right,” I said, to the empty room.

The idea of Luna raiding Amandine’s closet was new and unsettling. Mother’s tower has never needed much in the way of security—it’s self-aware enough to keep out anyone who hasn’t been explicitly invited. As far as I knew, neither Mother nor I ever gave Luna permission to go inside. Oh, well. There’d be time to worry about that later, after we survived the night.

I shrugged off my robe, pulled on a pair of panties, and stepped into the dress. It was sleeveless, with a straight-cut neckline that came straight out of the 1950s. It was also several sizes too big, hanging around me like a tent.

That was easily fixed. I held the dress up with one hand as I reached behind me with the other, gathering the fabric against the small of my back. The spider silk writhed like a living thing as the dress tightened around me, becoming form-fitting to the point of being practically painted on. There are reasons the stuff is so expensive.

“Better,” I said, letting go and turning to look at my reflection.