The Winter Long

To my profound relief, Tybalt didn’t immediately tell me I had to be mistaken. Instead, he blinked, a slow frown spreading across his face as he considered what I had said. Finally, he asked, “Could it have been a doppelganger, or someone else pretending the right to her face?”


“I tasted her magic; that’s how I knew who she was. Even without the confirmation, I don’t think a doppelganger could have convinced Goldengreen to close the wards like that,” I said. “Dean was inside at the time, and the knowe has accepted him as Count. I couldn’t have snatched the wards away from his control, but she was able to. So either she’s incredibly powerful, or she’s attuned to the knowe on a level that none of us can match.”

“But you said you talked the knowe into letting you in,” said Quentin.

I glanced his way. “That’s also part of why I don’t have any trouble believing it was really Evening. I don’t think Goldengreen ever liked her very much. Remember how upset the pixies and bogeys were when we came to reopen the knowe? They were afraid, because they’d been treated badly.” Evening had used pixies to power her lights. I would never forget their small, shriveled bodies, preserved behind the glass that had imprisoned them until they died. It was inhumane. And Evening, the real Evening, had done that.

I took a deep breath. “So, yeah. It was her. Evening Winterrose is alive.” Saying the words out loud made them feel more real. My shock began to splinter, replaced by a slow, growing anger. “She nearly killed me with the binding she used to make me solve her murder, and she was never dead. That b—”

“What did you say?” Tybalt’s voice was like a whip crack, tight with sudden tension.

I turned to look at him, frowning. “I said she nearly . . . oh.” The blood drained from my cheeks as I finally put together the implications of my own words. I couldn’t believe it had taken me so long to see it. The binding, the message in the flowers Simon brought to the house, all of it. “She bound me. She used the old forms, and she bound me so tight that I nearly died getting rid of the ropes she used.”

“Simon is bound, as is the Luidaeg, by someone who knew all three of you, and who is still among the living,” said Tybalt. “Does the once-Countess Winterrose fit this description?”

“She’s still a Countess, she’s just landless now,” I said automatically, before nodding. “But yes. She and Simon were both frequent attendees at the false Queen’s Court. That crazy bitch was one of the only people who could tolerate them. And the Luidaeg . . .” I hesitated, trying to remember exactly what the Luidaeg had said when I told her about Evening’s murder. The sea witch couldn’t lie. That didn’t mean she couldn’t talk her way around the truth, when she had to. “She talked about Evening like she knew her. I think they’ve met.”

“So she fits the bill,” said Tybalt.

“Yes,” I said again. “The roses Simon brought—the winter roses, from Luna’s winter garden. He wasn’t telling us there was danger at Goldengreen. He was trying to tell us that Evening was the danger at Goldengreen. It was her all along.”

The statement was simple. Its implications were anything but. I went still, trying to steady my breathing as I considered everything that it could mean. Finally, I said, “You know, the Luidaeg tried to tell me. All the way back when we first met, she tried to tell me. She kept referring to Evening in the present tense. And I never saw her among the night-haunts. How could I have been so stupid?”

“You’re very good at being blind to what you do not want to see,” said Tybalt, a trifle wryly.

I shook my head. “This is too big. I should have seen it.” I pushed myself away from the bench, letting the blanket fall as I stood, and began to pace. My waterlogged leather jacket was heavy, but I didn’t take it off. “I feel like I’m still missing something.”

“The dead are walking,” said Raj. “I didn’t realize we’d be living in a fairy tale this week. I would have packed tights.”

I stopped mid-step, turning to face him. “Say that again.”

“What?” Raj blinked at me. “Do you have an objection to men in tights?”