Rosemary and Rue

Manuel was silent until we were outside. Then he asked quietly, “Where are we going?”


Trust Devin’s kids not to ask until there was no turning back. He really did teach them—teach us—not to worry about consequences. “Goldengreen.”

“The knowe of the Winterrose?” asked Manuel, looking faintly horrified.

Dare, in contrast, just frowned. “Why are we going there?”

“Because if I knew her as well as I thought I did, there’ll be answers there.”

“And if there aren’t?”

I paused. “If there aren’t, we’ll find another way.” If they weren’t there, I was screwed, but there was no reason to tell them that. Devin was right: I was running on changeling time, and the progression of Evening’s curse meant that time was running out. Dead people don’t solve mysteries or pay their dues. If Goldengreen didn’t have what I needed, it was about to get a lot harder for me to pay my debts.





TWENTY-ONE



THE MORTAL-SIDE ENTRANCE TO Goldengreen is tucked behind the San Francisco Art Museum, right at the edge of the cliff that overlooks the sea. That always struck me as an ideal place for Evening’s knowe: isolated and urban at the same time, a thing of borders, like the city itself. It’s beautiful there. I’d wondered whether Evening personally oversaw the construction of the museum—after all, the doors connecting Goldengreen to the mortal world were probably older than the city. If she didn’t plan the construction, she at least influenced it. That woman had strings all over the city, tied in places so old that no one realized they were there. The mortal world was going to miss her. But not as much as I was.

Devin’s car was a battered Ford Taurus that handled better than my poor VW ever had. We pulled down the winding driveway to the employee parking lot, stopping behind a clump of eucalyptus trees. The museum was closed for the holidays, and there were no other cars.

I glanced in the rearview mirror. Manuel was looking out the window, hands folded in his lap, while Dare was filing her nails. They were ready and eager to help—after all, being ready and eager was better than facing Devin’s temper. With Evening’s curse pressing down more and more heavily, I was slowing down. They were probably exactly what I needed. And I really didn’t want to deal with them.

I cleared my throat. They looked up, fixing me with twin sets of apple-green eyes. The longer I spent around them, the more I understood why people complain about fae giving them the evil eye. I kept wanting to buy them each a pair of sunglasses.

“We’re here.” Dare started to unbuckle her belt, and I raised my hand to stop her. “No. You’re staying with the car.”

“What?” she demanded. Manuel stared. “The boss said we’re supposed to keep you safe while you do stuff. How’re we supposed to do that from the car?”

“I don’t know how you’re going to keep me safe from the car, and I don’t care. I’m not taking you inside with me.”

Manuel frowned. “Why not?”

“Because Goldengreen isn’t just a place; it’s a knowe. That means it’s a little bit alive. With Evening gone, it’s going to be pissed. I don’t know what it’ll be like inside, but I’m hoping it’ll remember me well enough not to eat me.”

Manuel nodded slowly, saying, “That’s bad.”

I sighed. “Yeah. Right now, I don’t need any distractions. I need you to stay here, or I’ll wind up so busy trying to protect you that I’ll miss something.”

“But, Ms. Daye—”

“I mean it, Dare. I need you to stay here. Both of you.” I glared at them. Dare made a show of glaring back, but finally they both looked away, giving in.

“I’ll be right back,” I said lamely, taking the keys from the ignition and climbing out of the car. “You guys keep yourself amused. I don’t care what you do, as long as you don’t get arrested or hurt the car. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

As I closed the door, Manuel said, “Ma’am?”