Once Broken Faith (October Daye #10)(13)

“It’s okay, guys,” I said. “Nobody’s going to follow you up here.”

Lacey closed her eye.

Pulling out my phone, I sat on the edge of the bed and dialed a long string of numbers, tracing a spiral pattern from one to five and then back out again. The smell of cut-grass and copper rose around me as my magic responded to the intent in my gesture. I lifted the phone to my ear, listening to the silence.

“To market, to market, to buy a fat hen,” I chanted. “We’ll cook it and then we’ll be hungry again, which is why I really appreciate the easy availability of KFC in the modern world.”

The magic gathered and broke around me, and the silence was replaced by the soft, distant sound of waves lapping against the shore of some tropical lagoon. I leaned back on the bed and waited.

There was a click, and suddenly a woman’s voice was in my ear, snarling, “Who is this, and why am I not juggling your internal organs right now?”

“Hi, Luidaeg; it’s Toby,” I said. “Got a moment?”

“Toby!” Her tone shifted, becoming warm—even welcoming. We hadn’t always been friends, but our relationship was, at this point, built on a foundation of mutual respect and saving each other’s asses. That was enough to buy me a positive reception. “Quentin’s sleepover party is tonight, isn’t it? Why did you call it that, anyway? It’s not like they’re going to sleep.”

“Human teenagers don’t usually sleep during these parties either,” I said. “It’s an excuse for them to hang out in their pajamas, eat lots of junk food, and not have to worry about going outside. Call it an artifact of my weird upbringing and let it go.”

“Right,” she said. “If I ever needed more proof that you were Dad’s descendant, you filling your home with those kids would do it. That’s heroism of the stupid kind. Please tell me you’re not calling because you want me to come over and help you deal with them. I’d just turn them all into axolotls until the sun came up.”

“Peaceful, but probably stressful,” I said. The Luidaeg can’t lie. That meant she could turn both my resident and visiting teenagers into axolotls. I wasn’t even sure what those were, but I was pretty sure I didn’t like the idea. “That’s not why I’m calling.”

“No? What impossible quest are you planning to embark on now?”

“I’m skipping the impossible quest in favor of attending the High King’s conclave to discuss what’s going to happen with the elf-shot cure.” I explained the situation in quick, terse sentences, leaving nothing out, but not embroidering either. The Luidaeg didn’t like it when people danced around the point. I guess a few millennia of listening to lies, bullshit, and pointlessly florid pureblood etiquette had eroded her patience.

When I was done, she said, “Well.”

“Yes.”

“That’s a thing.”

“Yes.”

“A thing which is actually happening.”

“Probably.”

“You realize I’ll be showing up to watch the fireworks, right?”

I sat up a little straighter. “What?”

The Luidaeg sighed. “Much as I hate my sister—and trust me, no one hates my sister like I do—she’s still Firstborn. Elf-shot was her gift to our father, to curry favor with him when she was out of his good graces. I applaud unmaking it. I think this is a good thing. But that doesn’t mean I can sit by while the work of one of the First is unmade, and not at least come for the sake of witnessing the process. I won’t speak on her behalf. I won’t try to suppress this cure. I’m still going to come, and watch, and see.”

The Luidaeg was the eldest among the Firstborn. Almost everyone I’d ever met was afraid of her, and with good reason: she was terrifying when she wanted to be. Having her at the conclave would make a lot of people very uncomfortable. That alone would make the proceedings more entertaining, at least for me. But if the Luidaeg was planning to show up . . .

“Should we be worried about other Firstborn deciding they need to come sit in the audience?”

She was quiet for a moment before she said, “Acacia might. She’s been getting out more, and I know that some of Blind Michael’s Riders have been elf-shot and locked away by people who didn’t see any other means of protecting their children. She could come just to see if she’ll be able to free the last of her husband’s victims. Your mother isn’t likely to show up, if that’s what you’re worried about. Amandine never considered herself Firstborn, and she doesn’t care enough about the work of her elder siblings.”

“I don’t know if I’m worried about seeing Mom so much as I just really, really don’t want to.”

“If she does decide to come, that’ll give me the opportunity to drag her away by the ear and ask what the fuck she thinks she’s doing. It’ll be okay, Toby. This isn’t an army marching on the Mists. This isn’t a case you have to solve. It’s just a bunch of nobles coming to puff their chests out at each other and try to look important. Do what I do. Bring popcorn.”

I smiled. Maybe it was weird to be reassured by the words of a woman who could remember the rise and fall of almost every mortal civilization, but my life has never been particularly normal. “Okay,” I said. “See you there.”