The Winter Long

I glanced at Tybalt, who answered me with a small shake of his head. Whatever we did next was my call. Swell. I love being the person who decides whether or not we let the potential for dry socks lead us to our certain doom. “Oh, goodie,” I said, and stepped past Sylvester, through the open door into the knowe.

Shadowed Hills has always been famed for its roses. Luna’s mourning had turned the grounds to winter outside the doors. The end result made the entire knowe smell of something very close to Evening’s magic, a mixture of roses and snow that put my nerves instantly on edge. I may be better at detecting individual magical signatures than most people, but even I can’t smell a single flower through an entire garden of identical blooms.

Tybalt, Quentin, and Raj followed me inside, with Sylvester bringing up the rear. I studied his face as he shut the door, trying to make my scrutiny as unobtrusive as ever. His eyes were somewhat unfocused, but that could have been a function of concern mingling with the twin surprises of having Evening show up in his knowe and the rest of us appear in his backyard.

Wait. “How did you know we were here?” I asked. “I didn’t call.”

“If you’ll wait here, I’ll get Jin for you,” he said, and walked away, leaving the four of us alone in the hall.

Raj was the first to say what we were all thinking: “I don’t like this, and I think we should leave as quickly as possible.”

“That will be difficult, since I am not presently capable of taking October through the shadows, and I doubt you are any more recovered than I,” said Tybalt, giving his nephew a hard look. Raj flushed with embarrassment and looked away. Tybalt turned to me. “I am afraid, however, that we are not safe here.”

“Yeah, I got that. I was expecting Simon. I wasn’t expecting this.” I looked at the closed door to the backyard and shivered. Going back out in the cold wasn’t a great idea, either. It might get us away from Evening, but it also might result in our freezing to death. We needed to find another option. “Hey, Quentin?”

“Yes?”

“Is there a route through the servants’ halls from here to Sir Etienne’s quarters?” When all else fails, get someone else involved.

Quentin frowned, turning to look at the smooth hardwood walls around us. There were no visible doorways or tricks in the molding. He was silent for long enough that I was about to say we needed to move when relief washed over his expression and he walked forward three steps, tapping a complicated pattern on a perfectly normal patch of wall . . . which promptly slid open, revealing one of the narrow servants’ halls that riddled Shadowed Hills like worms eating through an apple.

“This way,” he said.

“You heard him,” I said. “Let’s move.”

I waited for Tybalt and Raj to follow Quentin through the opening before I turned and pulled the back door open, wedging it in place with a chunk of hard-packed snow. By the time Sylvester returned, with or without Jin, the hallway would be empty again, and the wind blowing outside would hopefully confuse our footprints enough to make it hard to tell whether or not we had actually fled the knowe.

Tybalt gave me an approving look as I finally stepped through the opening in the wall. “I knew there was a reason I loved you,” he said, voice low and underscored with a purring thrum that made my ears redden.

“Flirt later, flee now,” recommended Quentin, as he closed the door in the wall. It fit seamlessly back into place. Anyone who didn’t know where the openings to the servants’ halls were hidden would have a great deal of trouble finding us.

“Who taught you to talk to your elders like that?” I asked.

“You did,” said Quentin.