One Salt Sea: An October Daye Novel

The last time I’d seen him, his Court was in chaos following the deaths of several of his subjects, including Raj’s mother. I softened slightly, but kept frowning as I said, “Your timing sucks, Tybalt. Just so you know.”


Tybalt narrowed his eyes, expression going from awkward to challenging. I met his gaze and held it. He looked away first. “A messenger came to my Court with news of the war. He said you seemed determined to involve yourself. It . . . concerned me.”

“Well, at least now I know what it takes to get your attention.”

Tybalt’s head snapped around. “Thorn and tree, October, that isn’t fair.”

“But you ignoring me is? You’ve got a weird definition of ‘fair.’ All I wanted was to know that you were okay.”

May coughed. “Okay, I’ll be in my room if you need me. Please don’t need me. Also, Toby, remember that the curtains aren’t stain-proof, and Raj, if you need to hide, feel free to join me.” She vanished down the hall. Her door slammed a moment later.

“I . . .” Tybalt sighed. “You’re right. I apologize.”

I stopped. Of all the things he could have said, I don’t think anything could have surprised me more than a simple—and apparently sincere—apology. “Accepted,” I said. Glancing toward the hall, I added, “I think she’s battening down the hatches back there, in case we’re about to start throwing things.”

“Really?” Tybalt’s eyebrows rose. “Should we smash a few plates and scream before we have an actual conversation?”

“I don’t think we need to go that far, but I want to get some real clothes on before we continue. Can I trust you two not to break anything?”

“Yes,” said Raj, immediately.

“You might have an easier time trusting us if we continued while you changed,” said Tybalt, allowing his eyes to travel the length of my body.

I snorted, spreading my arms to give him the best possible view. “Go ahead and laugh, because this is your only shot. You’re staying out here while I get some pants on.”

“I had no intention of mocking you. I think you look lovely.” He hesitated a moment before adding, in a softer tone, “Whether you believe me or not, your mother was never as fair a child of Faerie as you are right now.”

“I . . .” The blush raced up my cheeks and the edges of my ears, leaving them burning. I let my arms drop to my sides, barely keeping myself from folding them over my chest. “I have to go change,” I managed, and turned to scurry down the hall.

My cheeks stayed hot even after I was in my bedroom with the door closed. I stripped off the spider silk dress, letting it puddle on the floor while I fumbled with the thigh sheath. Once that came loose, I pulled my jeans on and fastened my usual knife belt around my waist, sliding my knife back into its customary home before putting the Luidaeg’s shell in my pocket.

Sneakers and a long-sleeved red cotton shirt finished the change. I snagged a hair tie from the dresser on my way out of the room, snapping it around my wrist before beginning to pull pins out of my hair. Stacy’s handiwork was good—too good. I was still trying to restore my hair to its normal disarray as I emerged from the bedroom, swearing under my breath all the while.

Quiet voices were coming from the kitchen as I walked down the hall. I had to smother a smile as I realized that Raj was tutoring Tybalt on the way I like my coffee. That would have been funny no matter what. It was made funnier by the fact that I wasn’t sure Tybalt knew how much time Raj has spent at my place since I saved him from Blind Michael. He wasn’t around as much as, say, Quentin, but he still spent enough time sitting on my couch and hogging the TV remote that I’ve occasionally threatened to charge him rent.

I stopped in the kitchen doorway, watching Tybalt pour way too much sugar into a mug of coffee. “That’s good,” I said, before he could experiment with adding anything else. “You can stop there. Unless you’re making coffee for a hummingbird.”