Seanan McGuire - An Artificial Night

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October "Toby" Daye is a changeling-half human and half fae—and the only one who has earned knighthood. Now she must take on a nightmarish new challenge. Someone is stealing the children of the fae as well as mortal children, and all signs point to Blind Michael. Toby has no choice but to track the villain down—even when there are only three magical roads by which to reach Blind Michael's realm, home of the Wild Hunt—and no road may be taken more than once. If Toby cannot escape with the children, she will fall prey to the Wild Hunt and Blind Michael's inescapable power.

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“Of course.” She turned to May. “You would be … ?”

“May,” said my Fetch, expression grave.

“A good name. Ironic, but good. Whatever will we do when the months of the year are used entirely?” Lily looked back to Marcia. “These are my guests. October Daye, daughter of Amandine, albeit in slightly reduced circumstances; Connor O’Dell of Shadowed Hills; and May, who is, unless I am much mistaken, October’s Fetch.” Her voice stayed calm, but she looked at me when she said May’s name, eyes unreadable.

Marcia stared at me, eyes wide. “You’re Toby? ” she squeaked.

“Is that a problem?” I asked.

“But you’re so little!”

“And you’re so blonde.”

“Marcia, Toby and her friends look very tired, and I’m sure she wants to see her friend.”

“Karen,” I said. “Is she … ?” I let the question trail off, not sure how to finish it. She wasn’t talking like Karen was dead, but we were in a semipublic place. She might just be waiting to get us alone.

“No, October. I’m sorry.” Lily shook her head. “I tried everything. I failed.”

Oh, root and branch. How was I supposed to tell Stacy that Karen wasn’t coming home? Swallowing, I asked, “How did she die?”

Lily frowned, looking bewildered. “Die?”

“Karen. How did she die?”

Marcia blinked. “Somebody died?”

“October, I think perhaps you and your company ought to come with me,” said Lily, still frowning. “The sun will be down soon, and it seems we have much to discuss.” She turned. Too confused to argue, I followed her, not releasing Connor’s hand.

She led us to the base of the moon bridge, then stopped and knelt, putting her hand over my knee. “You’re hurt,” she said, disapprovingly. “That won’t do, but I can’t fix it here. Fetch?”

“Huh?” said May, blinking.

The folds of Lily’s kimono rustled as she straightened. “Carry her. We must get her into the knowe, and she can’t possibly handle the bridge with her knee in that condition.”

“But—”

“There will be time to weep and wail and play the Banshee soon enough. For now, carry her. Connor?”

“Yes?”

“Come.” She held out her arm, obviously expecting him to take it. Connor glanced at me as he released my hand and slid his arm through hers, letting her lead him up the bridge and out of sight. Spike bounded after them, leaving me alone with May. Peachy.

May looked at me, frowning. “She wants me to carry you.”

“I noticed.”

“Of all the ludicrous—”

I sighed, holding up my arms. “Come on, May. The sooner we finish this, the sooner you can carry me off to my eternal reward.”

“I’m still not sure I’m allowed to help you.”

“Look, I won’t tell if you won’t. Do you want to piss off Lily?”

She blanched. When she got my memories, she got the full set. “No.”

“I didn’t think so. So come on and pick me up.”

May sighed and knelt. “Oh, fine.” Even shifting so she could lift me piggyback-style hurt my knee, and I hated to think what climbing the bridge on my own would’ve been like. Lily was right—I needed to be carried—but still, being carried by your own Fetch is just embarrassing.

May leaned forward to counterbalance my weight as she mounted the bridge. It worked well enough that we didn’t fall backward, but it was slow going. She stopped, grabbing the railing as she panted for breath.

“What have you been eating?” she asked. “Bricks?”

I “accidentally” dug my heels into her sides. “I thought you were indestructible.”

“No, I’m unkillable,” she said, panting. “I still get tired, and you’re heavy.”

“Stuff it.”

“Such gratitude.” She started climbing again. There was a soft popping sound as we reached the top of the bridge, and we were standing at a crossroads with four small cobblestone paths stretching out across a checkerboard expanse of marsh. Only the paths provided a clear route to solid ground. We were in Lily’s knowe.

“Cute,” May grumbled, starting down the nearest path. We were halfway to land when she slipped.

Riding piggyback doesn’t give you much in the way of the ability to catch yourself, and with her arms around my legs, May couldn’t catch us. We barely had time to shriek—in perfect unison—before we hit the water. It was lukewarm, like fresh blood.

The thought was enough to make me shove away from May and start thrashing, and the fact that I was in the water at all was enough to make me keep thrashing. I spent fourteen years living with Lily. Neither of us planned it that way; a man named Simon Torquill decided I’d make a lovely koi and had the magic to test the theory. He transformed me and left me in one of the ponds that riddle the Tea Gardens. I haven’t been real big on water since that happened. I don’t even take baths anymore, just showers. Put me in water and I tend to panic a little.

Okay, more than a little. I kept thrashing, struggling to find the surface. Most koi ponds are shallow, but Lily’s ponds aren’t exactly what you’d call standard. I don’t remember what they were like when I lived there, but I’ve never found the bottom while I was in my original shape, and I’m not going looking. I tried to scream, and water filled my mouth, choking me.

Great, I thought wildly, this is how I die. My Fetch drowns me by mistake.

Hands grabbed my shoulders and wrenched me out of the water, dropping me on something solid before hitting me on the back. I started coughing. Air. There was air in the world. Opening my eyes, I found myself staring up at Connor.

“Are you all right?” he said.

“Y-yeah,” I stammered. “Sorry.”

“Not your fault. May dropped you.” He glared back over his shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to!” May was a few feet away, wringing water out of her hair.

“It’s okay, Connor. I’m okay,” I said, sitting up and looking around. “She didn’t mean to drop me. Where’s Lily?”

“The pavilion,” said Connor, almost smiling.

“Which would be where?”

“Try looking behind you,” said May.

I looked over my shoulder. The pavilion was there, just like last time. Lily was seated at the table, mixing herbs in a small mortar. Spike was off to one side, watching and occasionally reaching out to bat at the pestle. She didn’t seem bothered by the rose goblin’s antics; she ignored it, placidly continuing to work. And Karen was lying on the cushions behind the table, just where I’d left her.

It took a moment for that to process. When it did, I scrambled to my feet and ran for the pavilion, only to fall again as my knees buckled beneath me. “Maeve’s teeth! ” I snarled. “Lily!”

“Oh, crying for me now, are you?” She looked up, expression unreadable. “What would you ask from me?”

“Lily, you—I—I need to get to Karen! I need to see that she’s okay.”

“Do you?” She rose, walking down the pavilion steps with a fluidity even Tybalt could only envy. “It seems to me that what you need is to hold still for a time.”

“Lily …” May and Connor were both standing, but they weren’t moving. Turning toward Lily, I said, pleadingly, “Lily, please.”

“If I truly loved you, I would refuse,” she said, smiling sadly as she came to kneel on the moss in front of me, the mortar still in her hand. “I’d say ‘no, you’ve had enough gifts of me,’ and I’d let you heal at your own pace, just this once. Perhaps then your charming twin would leave us in peace, and while you might hate me for a while, you would be here to do it.”

“I don’t think it works that way,” said May. She sounded sorry.

“I know that as well as you do. I’ve known more of your breed than you’d believe,” chided Lily, pulling a chunk of moss off the ground and pressing it into her mortar. “Once you arrive, events must play to their logical conclusions. I hope you don’t mind my hating you.”

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