Seanan McGuire - An Artificial Night

“That’s the only reason I can let you go. Look at me, please.” I opened my eyes. He was holding out his sheathed sword with steady hands. “I know where you’re going. I won’t stop you. But I won’t let you go alone.”

“Sylvester—”

He kept talking, ignoring my objection. “This was my father’s sword. He gave her to me the first time I rode to war; he said she’d never failed him, and that she wouldn’t fail me either. If I had a son, she would be his—she would have belonged to Raysel, if Raysel wanted her. But my daughter never understood what it meant to bear your father’s sword.”

“Sylvester?” This was too much, too fast. I didn’t know how to defend myself from it.

“She’s not a gift: I want her back. If I have to, I’ll reclaim her when I ride to avenge you. But you wouldn’t forgive me if I followed you now; you wouldn’t let me steal your vengeance, and dear May’s presence tells me you won’t come home whether I ride with you or not. I can let you go if you take my father’s sword.”

“Why?”

“Because when I was younger, I was a hero.” He leaned down and kissed my forehead as he pressed the sword into my hands. “Go in glory, Toby. If you have to die, do it well. If you can come back to us, come home.”

I bit my lip to keep myself from crying. “Sylvester—”

“You can’t thank me, and you can’t promise to come back, and those are the only things I want to hear.” He smiled again, smoothing my hair with one hand. “If he kills you, take him with you. End this. That’s all I ask. I love you.”

Turning, he walked away into the woods, leaving me alone with Spike and, clutching his father’s sword. When I was sure he wouldn’t hear me, I whispered, “I love you, too.”

I knelt, meeting Spike’s eyes. “You stay here. Watch Sylvester. Don’t let him cry for me. All right?” It looked at me assessingly before bounding after Sylvester. I straightened. If someone was looking after Sylvester, even a rose goblin, I could go. I could leave him if he wasn’t alone. Not that I had much of a choice.

The sword was surprisingly light; I wasn’t large, but I could lift it. That was probably part of why Sylvester gave it—her—to me. He knew she’d serve me well, and while he couldn’t take vengeance himself, he could make sure his sword did it for him. Clever guy. I could almost make myself forget that he’d mourn for me. Almost, but not quite. Slinging the scabbard over my shoulder, I started down the hill, pausing at the edge of the trees to fill my hands with shadows and wrap myself in a human disguise that hid both my pointed ears and the sword. I shivered as the illusion settled over me, unable to keep from thinking, This is the last time. There wasn’t time to start regretting things. It was time to go.

Danny was waiting in the parking lot. Sylvester really had known that I’d be leaving. One of the Barghests was sitting in the front passenger seat, panting amiably. I slid into the back. Danny looked up and smiled, catching my eyes in the mirror.

“Long time no see, hey, Daye?”

“Hey, Danny.” I closed my eyes. “Wake me when we get there, okay?”

“You got it.”

We pulled up in front of the Luidaeg’s house a little more than an hour later. Danny was true to his word and didn’t wake me until we were parked at the front of the Luidaeg’s alley. The Barghest followed him out of the car when he climbed out to hug me good-bye, hopping and slobbering on us like the corgi it utterly failed to resemble. I leaned down to scratch its ears, and it washed my face thoroughly with a raspy tongue.

“This one’s Iggy,” said Danny, proudly. “He’s almost house-trained already.”

“You must be so proud.” I straightened, offering him a small smile. “Open roads, Danny. It’s been fun.”

“Come see the kennels next weekend, and that’s an order,” he said, picking Iggy up under one arm and climbing back into the cab. I waved as he drove away, then turned to head for the Luidaeg’s door.

It opened before I had the chance to knock. “I expected you hours ago.”

“Sorry. I had to get a few things.”

The Luidaeg glanced at the scabbard on my shoulder. “Is that Sylvester’s sword?”

“Yeah.”

“He was always a bit of a sap.” She looked to my face, studying me. There were dark circles around her eyes. She was tired, and if I could see it, she was too tired. Would she have the strength to do what I needed her to do? “You’re planning to do the hero thing, aren’t you?”

“I am. Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.” She shrugged. “It’s all right; I expect it from my father’s children. I just hoped you’d be different. You realize you’re asking me to help you kill my brother?”

I nodded. “I do. I’m sorry.”

“Why should I?”

“Because someone has to,” I said, quietly. “And he broke the rules.”

The Luidaeg looked at me for a long moment before she nodded. “You’re clever sometimes. You sure as hell don’t get that from your mother. Come inside.” She turned and walked into the darkness. I followed. What else was I supposed to do?

She led me to the kitchen and opened the fridge, pulling out a jar with a tablespoon’s worth of white liquid gleaming like liquid diamonds in the bottom. Putting the jar down on the counter, she pulled a rusty knife out of the sink, saying, “The things I do for you.” Then she brought the knife down across her wrist in one hard slashing motion.

I winced. The Luidaeg gritted her teeth and turned her arm upside down, bleeding into the jar until the white was filled with crimson streaks. The liquids didn’t seem to blend, but swirled together instead, like a gory candy cane, all diamond and ruby death.

When the jar was halfway full she pulled her arm away and tied a towel around it, cursing under her breath. Not looking at me, she said, “Drink it.”

“What will it do?” I took the jar, looking at its contents, and hesitated. Call me paranoid, but the blood of a Firstborn is powerful stuff. I wanted to know before I signed.

“Do? Nothing much.” She laughed mercilessly. “Just put you on the Blood Road. It’s the last one open to you as you are. And, Toby, you can’t back out of this one. No candles. No rescues.” The Luidaeg sounded almost pleading. “Change your mind. Leave him alone. Live.”

“Is Katie all right?” I kept my eyes on the jar, watching the liquid sparkle.

The Luidaeg was silent for a long while before she said, “No, she’s not.”

“Will killing him help her?”

“October—”

“Will killing him help her?”

She sighed. “It might. If he dies, his hold on her will loosen, even if it doesn’t break entirely. Without the interference, I may be able to repair the damage he did.”

“Then I can’t change my mind.” Was I willing to die for a single human girl?

My daughter’s blood was too thin to require she face the Changeling’s Choice, and that makes her a single human girl. Yes, I was. For a single human girl, and for all the children that hadn’t been saved … and for the sake of all the ones who should never be forced to need saving.

“All right, Toby. You have one way out, once you go. If you can kill him, that should be enough to pay the toll, and you’ll come back. If you can’t … the Blood Road has costs.”

“Him or me.”

She nodded. Her eyes were human brown and deeply shadowed. She looked tired. “Him or you,” she confirmed.

I offered her a smile, raised the jar, and drank. The liquid tasted like hot blood and cold salt water, somehow mixed without blending. I was almost expecting the kickback from the Luidaeg’s blood, but that didn’t really prepare me for it. Nothing could.