Rosemary and Rue

“Why?” He looked back, suddenly frowning. “What does she know?”


“If I knew that, I’d feel safe asking someone at Shadowed Hills to guard it. But I don’t know why, and that means, for everyone’s sake, that it needs to stay with someone she doesn’t control.” The Courts of Faerie have no control over the Cait Sidhe, by Oberon’s own decree. The Queen couldn’t touch Tybalt. Maybe she wasn’t a murderess, but our brief encounter had left me with the sinking suspicion that she was going insane, and if that was the case, I really didn’t want to deal with her while I was cursed and looking for a murderer.

Tybalt’s eyes narrowed. “Why not just take it Home? I’ve heard you’d still be welcome there. Surely your ban on changelings can’t extend so far as that.”

“Devin’s got enough trouble with the Queen. I don’t need to cause him more.” I studied Tybalt’s expression, and frowned. I didn’t know of any bad blood between him and Home. Fourteen years is plenty of time to start a feud.

“The Tea Gardens, then.”

“That’s the first place anybody who’s trying to find it would look. If they know I can’t hide it with Sylvester . . .”

“They’ll assume you’ve taken it to the Lily-maid.”

“Exactly.” I cocked my head, watching him. “So you’ll do it?”

“You still haven’t said why you’re coming to me. I’m not the only cat in this city.”

“Because you hate me.” Seeing his confusion, I clarified: “There’s never been any love lost between us, and there probably never will be, but you keep your word, and I know that if you say you’ll do this for me, you’ll do it. Your honor might survive betraying a friend, because the friend would forgive you. I wouldn’t.”

His expression hardened. “What’s in it for me?”

“The chance to get me in your debt.” I allowed myself a thin smile. “That’s worth enough that I know you’d keep your word.”

He was silent for a long moment; long enough that I started to worry that I’d gone too far. Finally, voice hushed, he said, “So you’ll trust me because you don’t trust me?”

I swallowed. “Yes,” I said.

“You’ll owe me for this. You may never pay this debt; I may never let you. I could hold it over you for centuries. I could decide to never let you go.” There was an odd warning note in his voice, like he wanted me to reconsider.

“That’s my problem, isn’t it?” I raised my head a little further and met his eyes.

He blinked, apparently surprised by my boldness. Then he shrugged, saying, “Very well,” and reached for the box, trying to tug it from my hands.

I kept my grip on the hope chest. “No,” I said, sharply. “Promise first.”

He glared at me; I glared back. “You know the rules. You want me in your debt, fine, I’m going willingly. But I’m going by the rules. Now promise.”

“If you insist,” he said, and straightened, squaring his shoulders before chanting, “By root and branch, by leaf and vine, on rowan and oak and ash and thorn I swear that what is given to my keeping shall remain in my keeping and shall be given over only to the one who holds my bond. My blood to the defense of the task I am set, my heart to the keeping of the promise to which I am bound.” The air grew thick with the taste of pennyroyal and musk as his magic crackled around us, drowning out the taste of roses.

“Broken promises are the road to our damnation,” I said, the copper and cut grass smell of my own magic undercutting his. “Promises kept are the meeting of all our myriad roads.”