Once Broken Faith (October Daye #10)(119)

I hadn’t been to UC Berkeley in years. My last visit had been during the early nineties, when Madden had lured me away from the used bookstore where I was working long enough to come to a place named the Bear’s Lair and hear a scrappy young mortal band called the Counting Crows play a set. They’d been out of tune; the lead singer had been so drunk that he’d barely been able to stay on his feet for the last three songs; it had been one of the best nights of my life. We’d laughed and cheered and sung along, even though we didn’t know half the lyrics, and it had been perfect. I’d been avoiding campus ever since.

When you live a life like mine, you learn that it’s best to leave the good things alone. If you give the world a chance to ruin them, it’ll take it. Every single fucking time. Case in point: I was alone, and there was no music, and no beer, and no beautiful mortal men to watch admiringly with my best friend. There was just me, and the silence, and the knowledge that this night was going to overwrite the one I’d treasured for so long. That was just the way it was going to be. Again. Always.

The chemistry building was locked. That wasn’t a problem. I peered through the glass, confirming that no one was inside before I waved my hand in the air and opened a portal. I stepped through and the door was behind me, glass unbroken, lock unpicked. It was an elegant, impossible solution to a very mortal problem. Even if I’d been here to rob the place—which I wasn’t—and even if they’d decided to spring for cameras, no security guard would have believed the footage. The illusion I was wearing would keep them from tracking me down to ask how I’d done it, and Faerie was not going to be revealed by what looked like a glitch on the tape.

I didn’t know which office belonged to Master Davies. I didn’t need to. Most of them were dark, their doors locked against the night; of all the doors along the hall, only one was cracked enough to let a sliver of light escape. It showed the scuffs and muddy footprints on the linoleum. The janitorial staff probably didn’t come until closer to morning.

As I drew closer, I heard voices from inside.

“—tried to explain that actually, I do need to show up for classes once in a while if I want a shot at tenure, but you know Toby.” The alchemist: Master Davies. Tylwyth Teg, originally from the Kingdom of Silences, currently living in the Mists and hence subject to my laws.

Wry laughter followed his words. “Oh, man, do I know Toby.” The voice was unfamiliar: the subject material was not. I sometimes thought half of my reign was going to be spent trying to explain October to people who didn’t have any context on her, and hence assumed we were all screwing with them.

“Did you know she elf-shot herself on purpose?”

“See, and here I was thinking there was something stupid left that she hadn’t done. Stop disillusioning me.”

“Sorry.”

I felt like I was intruding. But my brother was unwell, and I was Queen in the Mists, and it was time for me to make my presence known. I stepped into the sliver of light, reaching for the partially-open door at the same time.

It opened to reveal Master Davies sitting at his desk, and a woman sitting on his desk. They were both wearing human disguises—only sensible, if they were going to hang around with the door unlocked—and I didn’t recognize her at all. Sadly, that didn’t necessarily make her a newcomer to the Mists. My kingdom was large, and I’d spent more time avoiding it than I had going door to door and meeting the people whose fealty was technically mine to command.

The woman blinked at me. So did Master Davies. Then, in a tone that was pleasantly polite without being friendly, he said, “I’m sorry, but office hours happen before the campus is closed for the night. Is there something else I can help you with?”

It was the first time he’d spoken to me like I was a person, instead of just a crown. My illusions aren’t strong enough to change my voice, and so I hesitated, enjoying the feeling of being part of the scene, instead of holding myself above it.

The girl slid off the desk, landing lightly on her feet. Her hair was brown-blonde, darkening to black at the tips, and somehow didn’t look dyed. She was softly rounded, wearing cut-off denim shorts and a tank top that left her belly bare. Not the sort of clothes one wears to visit a professor at midnight—not unless the visit is a lot more social than professional. And she’d admitted to knowing October. I took a breath, and took a guess.

“I need you to return to Muir Woods with me,” I said. Master Davies’s expression went blank. I felt bad about that, I genuinely did, but I couldn’t stop. Not when Nolan needed me. “Something’s wrong with the elf-shot cure. My brother woke, but he didn’t stay that way.”

“Your Highness.” Master Davies stood and bowed, looking at the floor as he continued, “You do me too much honor by coming to me here on campus. I would have gladly come had you called.”

“It would have taken longer,” I said.

The woman looked between us, her eyes getting wider and wider. They were an unprepossessing shade of blue, the sort of thing no one would choose for an illusion unless they were natural. She was dressing up, but only in the most textile of senses. She wanted him to see her for herself, or as close as was possible under the circumstances.

“Wait,” she said. “Is this—I mean, are you—I mean—oh, shit.” Her cheeks flared red. “I just swore in front of the new Queen, didn’t I?”