Seanan McGuire - Ashes of Honor

“The Afanc is a fish eater, and some of the fish in Tirn Aill are well-equipped to defend themselves,” said Sylvester. “October, what are you doing out here?”

So Etienne hadn’t told him. Swell. “I’m on a case. We needed a place to park while the sun came up, and when we tried to get back on the road, your beastie was crashed out on the roof of my car.” That was it; I couldn’t put it off any longer. Lifting my head, I looked at the car and cringed.

I could probably have handled the cracks in the front windshield, and the sudden absence of the rear windshield. I’ve driven worse. But the weight of the Afanc had collapsed the roof of my poor VW bug, pressing it down until the metal actually grazed the tops of the seats. There was no way I could drive the car like that. I’ve lost cars in the line of duty before. Usually, I’m at least driving them at the time. I raked my hair back with both hands, staring at the damage.

“I’m sorry, October. The Afanc didn’t know.” Sylvester sounded genuinely apologetic. That wasn’t going to fix my car. “I will pay for your repairs.”

“That’s nice,” I said faintly. “What are you going to do with the Afanc?”

“Take him back to Shadowed Hills. There’s a lake near the rear wall of the ballroom. We can let him stay there until we find out where he came from.” I turned to blink at Sylvester. He shrugged. “Whoever has lost him must miss him. To keep a creature this magnificent in such good health for so long…it’s a labor of love. I wouldn’t want his owner to worry.”

Understanding dawned: Sylvester thought the Afanc had escaped from some sort of menagerie. It wasn’t that far outside the realm of possibility. Fae nobles keep all sorts of strange things in their knowes, and exotic pets are popular, even in Faerie. The Afanc would have been the jewel of someone’s collection. It would have been nice to think that he was right. But when I breathed in deeply I could smell the faintest trace of sycamore smoke and lilies, along with a sweet, clean scent, like air that had never known human pollution. The Afanc didn’t come from a menagerie. It came from Tirn Aill.

I continued turning until I was facing Etienne. When he met my eyes, I raised an eyebrow and waited. He gave a small shake of his head, expression pleading.

Sometimes I hate being a soft touch. “Can I borrow Etienne before you take the Afanc home? I need to get to the Luidaeg’s. Quentin and I have business with her, and I’d really like to catch her before she goes to bed for the day.” I wasn’t lying, not really. I was just leaving certain things out, like where the Afanc had probably come from.

“Certainly. If you leave me the number for your mechanic, I can call and arrange both the collection of your car and payment for service.”

I hesitated. Sylvester has more money than he could spend in a dozen lifetimes, but I sometimes still feel bad about letting him spend it on me. A glance at my wounded car killed the hesitation. If he could afford the repairs, let him. “I don’t have a mechanic, but Danny does.”

“Then we’ll call Danny and have him call his mechanic.”

“I appreciate it.” I read off Danny’s number from my cell phone.

Sylvester didn’t write it down. He just nodded, continuing to rub the Afanc’s belly. I blinked. He smiled. “Come from an era where courtship depends on how much poetry you can memorize, my dear, and you, too, will develop an excellent memory.”

Thinking about Sylvester courting Luna was like thinking about my parents having sex. I wrinkled my nose. “I’m going to skip dwelling on that one. We’ll have Etienne back to you as soon as we can.”

“Keep him with you for as long as you have need of him.”

“I will.” That was a lie, sort of; with my car out of commission, we could really use a personal teleporter. Keeping Etienne around would still have been more trouble than it was worth, especially since we were going to be dealing with Bridget again before this was over.

Etienne started toward us. He was almost there when Sylvester added, in a mild tone, “I trust you all to tell me what is going on once you feel that it is safe to do so.”

“Yes, your Grace,” said Etienne, shoulders hunching. He didn’t look back. Maybe he didn’t trust himself to hold his silence if he saw his liege’s face.

I’m less of a stickler for the rules than Etienne is, and I was having trouble looking at Sylvester without spilling the whole story. “Come on, Quentin,” I said. “We need to get going.”

“Coming.” He trotted over, waving to Sylvester as he passed him, and reached me at the same time as Etienne.

“The Luidaeg’s, please,” I said.

“As you wish,” said Etienne. His hand traced a wide circle in the air, trailing the smell of cedar smoke and limes. A hole opened. Through it, I could see the familiar dirty walls of the alley that led to the Luidaeg’s apartment.

“Open roads and kind fires,” Sylvester said.

“Open roads,” I echoed, and stepped through the circle in the air. Quentin and Etienne followed me.

The three of us were standing in the dim San Francisco alley, miles from Tilden Park, when I realized that I’d managed to leave my sword in the car.

Well, crap.

“THIS WAS AS CLOSE AS I could bring you. The Luidaeg’s actual domain is shielded against teleportation.” Etienne looked around the alley, nose wrinkling. It was an understandable reaction, considering the condition of both the alley and the slice of street visible through the alley’s mouth. The Luidaeg could have lived anywhere she wanted, either in this world or in the Summerlands. She chose a place where the cockroaches were reluctant to live, and she seemed entirely content to stay there.

“When are you going to tell him, Etienne?” I asked, before he could open a portal to take himself back to Tilden Park. “He knows something is going on, and I won’t lie for you. Omit things, maybe, if it’s necessary. But not lie.”

“Neither will I,” added Quentin.

“I wouldn’t ask you to.” Etienne looked down as he said, “I am simply having trouble deciding how best to tell my liege that when he needed me most, I betrayed his trust.”

“You did no such thing,” I said. “You made a mistake, and now you’re trying to make it right. That’s all Sylvester expects from any of us. That when we make mistakes, we do our best to fix them.”

“Perhaps that’s what he expects from you, October, but I was his representative in those dark days. I must hold myself to a somewhat higher standard.”

I sighed. “I’m going to ignore the swipe you just took at my social status, because I know you’re stressed. But you need to tell him sooner rather than later, because I’m not keeping your secrets forever.”

“I’ll tell him. Just give me time.”

Time was something we didn’t have much of. I shook my head. “I’ll give you what I can. I don’t know how much that’s going to be.”

“Hopefully, it will be enough.” Etienne waved his hand through the air, opening a portal back to Tilden Park. He stepped through before I had the chance to say anything else.

“Always has to have the last word,” I grumbled. “Come on, Quentin. Let’s go see the sea witch.” We turned, and walked down the alley to the Luidaeg’s apartment.

Her front door was warped and water stained, and it looked like it would fall apart if subjected to the slightest pressure. Appearances can be deceiving, especially when the Luidaeg is involved. I raised my hand and knocked briskly, not hammering, but not gently tapping, either. There was no immediate answer. Quentin and I exchanged a look. The Luidaeg normally opened her door almost instantly, sometimes even before we had a chance to knock. Then again, it was more than an hour past sunrise, and even sea witches have to sleep sometime.