An Artificial Night - BK 3

by Seanan McGuire

  “Who would come for her?” he snarled, rallying.

  Behind me, a voice shouted, “Tybalt, King of Cats. My claim precedes yours.”

  “Cassandra Brown, student physicist,” shouted another voice. “Give me back my aunt!”

  “Quentin, foster of Shadowed Hills. You will give me back my friend and my lady!” I could hear hooves beating the ground in tandem with his words. He was the one who grabbed Katie’s reins. Oh, oak and ash. Little hero.

  “Connor O’Dell! She’s my friend and you can’t have her!” Connor has always been that great cliché, a lover, not a fighter, but there was no fear in his voice. He was taking me home or he wasn’t going home at all.

  They’d come for me? All of them? Titania wept. I didn’t know whether I should laugh or cry. Challenging the Firstborn is never wise, not even when you have one of their number on your side, and you can never be really sure whose side the Luidaeg is on. It’s usually her own.

  I didn’t think there was anything left that would surprise me. Then the woman pinning me shouted, “May Daye, Fetch!”

  Opening my eyes, I found myself staring into a mirror. “May?” I squeaked. The split vision of the Ride was starting to fade, leaving me looking out of only my own eyes.

  Familiar lips split in an unfamiliar smile. “In the too, too solid flesh,” she said.

  “What the hell is going on?”

  “We cast our compass ’round,” she said, looking past me. “Now we’ll pay for it.”

  I craned my neck to follow her gaze. Blind Michael had dismounted. He walked to the edge of the circle and stopped, glaring. The Luidaeg was barely three feet away from him, shielded only by the light.

  “Little brother, you’ve lost. Go home,” she said, gently. “Take the children you still have, and go. We won’t follow. I’ll keep Amandine’s daughter from chasing you, and when you Ride again in a hundred years, no one will remember this but you and I.”

  “There are rules,” he answered. “I can try to take them back again.”

  “You can, if you accept that you might lose them, and more, if you try,” she said. “Can you accept that fact?”

  “I can.”

  “Oh, Michael. You always were a fool.” The Luidaeg shook her head. “Start your games. Any who releases their quarry are lost; the rest are free to go.” She turned, her gown eddying around her in a wave, and May braced herself above me.

  “May, what—”

  “You rode the white horse. Now we’re finishing the song.” There wasn’t time to say anything more. Blind Michael turned toward me, raising his hand.

  Transformation burns. I barely had time to realize I was being changed before it was done, and the weight of Blind Michael’s magic was forcing my mind to conform to my new shape. May was suddenly huge, pinning me to the ground with a bulk that exceeded my own by a factor of at least three.

  I had to get away; I had to flee and fly or she was going to kill me and use my bones to pick her teeth. I knew it as well as I knew the shape of my wings and the feeling of wind over my feathers. I beat myself against her arms, hissing and jabbing at her with my beak. All that mattered was escape, no matter how badly I was hurt in the process.

  Connor lunged forward, pinning my wings while May grabbed for my head. I kept struggling, but I was trapped. I couldn’t get away.

  “And he will turn me in your arms into a swan so wild,” the Luidaeg said. Her voice broke through the fog around me, clearing the madness from my mind. I stopped fighting. Connor let go and May folded herself around me, holding me down. “But hold me tight, don’t let me go, and I will love your child.”

  The world changed again. This time I was thin and smooth, with no wings to beat against my captor. I slithered halfway out of her grasp before she grabbed me behind the head, pinning me again. Someone screamed, and I heard Cassandra chanting, “I am not afraid of snakes I am not afraid of—oh God, I think she’s poisonous—snakes—”

  I broke free and twisted around, sinking my fangs into May’s wrist. She winced but didn’t let go. “Damn it, Toby, don’t bite,” she said. “It’s rude.”

  “And he will turn me in your arms into an asp and adder,” shouted the Luidaeg. I released May’s wrist and turned toward the sound, tongue scenting the air. “But hold me tight within your arms—I am your baby’s father!”

  Things shifted again. I was suddenly larger than May, tall and vast and angry. She was clinging to my neck, hands clasped beneath my jaw. I roared and tried to claw her off, unable to think of anything but freedom. I had to escape. If I didn’t, something terrible would happen; something I didn’t understand but knew enough about to fear.

  Then Tybalt was in front of me, pressing his hand against my nose. I subsided, growling at him. He merely looked amused, reaching up to scratch my ears as he chided, “Calm yourself, little lioness.” May took advantage of my confusion and got a tighter grip around my neck. I started to snarl, but stopped when Tybalt smacked me on the head. All cats belong to their King. For the moment, I was more his than Blind Michael’s.

  “Good plan, Tybalt,” said May, face muffled against my neck.

  “I thought so,” he said. He started scratching my jaw, and I sat down, wondering confusedly if lions could purr.

  “And he will turn me in your arms into the lion’s might,” said the Luidaeg. I turned toward her, forgetting my fealty to Tybalt. “But fear me not, don’t let me go, and we’ll see through this night!”

  Everything shifted again, and this time I couldn’t move; the world was nothing but May trying to fold herself around me, and heat—burning, searing heat. May screamed, and suddenly Connor and Tybalt were there, forcing her not to let me go.

  In the distance, Cassandra and Quentin were screaming. They were probably in the same fix as May; if Katie had joined me in the realm of “really hot things,” they’d be forcing each other’s arms around her. Burns are bad, but somehow I thought letting go might be worse.

  “And he will turn me in your arms into a burning sword,” the Luidaeg said. Her words cooled me; I still couldn’t move, but it felt like the arms around me were holding just a little closer. “Hold me tight, don’t let me go; I am your one reward.”

  The world shifted for the final time, and I was myself, sandwiched between Tybalt, Connor, and May. A moment later, I realized that I was naked. Gee, that was an improvement. “Please let me go,” I said.

  Tybalt smirked and stood, stepping back. Connor let go as well, turning away, but not before I saw him blush. May removed her cloak and threw it over me, pulling me further into the circle as she stood. Connor and May were covered in scratches and bites, and all three of them were singed, but no one seemed to be badly burned. There were two small punctures in May’s wrist where the snake—where I—had bitten her. I hoped Fetches were really immune to physical harm, or we were going to have a whole new problem.

  Katie was crying in the distance, and I could hear Cassandra scolding Quentin. I allowed myself a small, tired smile. Looked like I wasn’t the only one who was myself again.

  “And he will turn me in your arms into a naked knight,” the Luidaeg said. Then her tone changed, leaving the lyrics behind. “That’s it, little brother; you’ve lost, and by your own rules, you can’t touch them again.” Her robe had turned black, making her seem like a hole in the night. Blind Michael looked wraithlike beside her, all white and gleaming ash, with Acacia like a golden ghost beside him.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Because you took her while she was mine.”

  “And the human child?”

  “Because everything is connected.” She shook her head. “Nothing is free.”

  “I won’t forget this.”

  “No,” she said sadly, and glanced toward me. “You never do, do you?”

  I shrugged May’s hands away and moved to stand beside the Luidaeg, looking at my former captor. His Hunt was splayed behind him, children and Riders huddled in confusion, while behind me, those that h
ad come to free their children wept with joy. Softly, I said, “I don’t forget either. And I never forgive.”

  The Luidaeg looked down at me and smiled. Blind Michael didn’t say another word; he just turned, cloak billowing behind him as he walked back to his horse and mounted again. He led the remains of his Hunt into the night, and they faded away as they rode, dissolving into mist and shadows. Only Acacia stayed behind, watching them go.

  “Well met, sister,” said the Luidaeg.

  “For some of us. It’s good to see you,” Acacia said, still watching the Riders fade away. When the last of them was gone she turned to me, and smiled. “You did it. You’re free.”

  “I’m as surprised as you are,” I said, pulling May’s cloak more tightly around myself. “Are you going with him?”

  “Yes. I am.”

  “Why? He was ready to replace you.” I wasn’t sure what that would have meant for her. I was certain it wouldn’t have been good.

  “I’ve taken this Ride too many times; I have no other roads.” She shook her head, looking to the Luidaeg. “Blind Michael is my lord and husband. I follow him.”

  “You don’t have to,” I said.

  “Don’t I?” Acacia smiled. “There isn’t anything for me in these lands.”

  “Nothing?” asked the Luidaeg.

  “Mother?” said a voice behind me. It was soft, almost afraid. Acacia froze, her gaze going over our heads as she stiffened. I turned, watching as Luna stepped out of the darkness.

  She walked over to the Luidaeg’s other side, and stopped, pulling back her hood. She looked tired, and there were circles under her eyes that hadn’t been there when I’d seen her last. What had she paid to put me on the Rose Road? But her eyes were still brown, and silver-furred fox ears still crowned her head. There were roses in her hair, perhaps in acknowledgment of what she’d been, once upon a yesterday. “Mother,” she repeated.

  “Luna,” Acacia whispered, raising one hand. Her fingers touched the edge of the circle, and she recoiled. “I . . . oh, Luna. I can’t reach you.”

  “I know,” Luna said. “You’re too much part of Father’s kingdom. The circle is warded against his magic.”

  “I know.”

  “We could pull you through . . .”

  “And what? Change me the way you’ve changed yourself? Free me from him? Would you hold me when I bit and struck and burned you? Would you cover my nakedness and set me free?”

  “Yes.” Luna’s answer left no room for argument.

  Acacia smiled. The expression was bittersweet. “I believe you. I’ve missed you so much, little rose.”

  “I missed you, too.”

  “Come home.”

  “No.”

  “I didn’t think you would.” Her smile softened, saddening. “I hear you’ve married.”

  “Yes, I have. He loves me, despite everything.” Luna glanced at me. I looked away.

  “He’s clever. Love matters.” Acacia’s smile faltered. “I’ve always loved you.”

  “Come home.”

  “No.” Acacia stepped back. “Now we’ve both asked, and both refused. I miss you, my dear one. I’ll always miss you, just as I’ll always love you. And now I follow your father.”

  “Mother—”

  Acacia shook her head and walked back to her horse, remounting. Luna started to follow, but the Luidaeg put out an arm, stopping her. “No,” she said. “You can’t go after her.”

  “But—”

  “No.” Acacia was already riding away, fading as she gathered speed. The Luidaeg lowered her arm. “We can’t save them if they don’t want to be saved. It doesn’t work that way.”

  Luna stared at her for a long moment, then whirled with a small, choked cry and hugged me fiercely. I realized with vague surprise that she was crying. “I thought I let him take you forever,” she whispered. “After everything he’s taken . . . I thought he took you too.”

  I shivered and leaned against her, closing my eyes. After everything that had happened, I wasn’t entirely sure he hadn’t.

  TWENTY-NINE

  THE STRANGENESS BEGAN BLEEDING out of the night, seeping away bit by bit, until the world outside the shining border of the Luidaeg’s circle looked like the world I remembered. A brisk wind blew by, carrying the Halloween scents of dried leaves, burning pumpkin, and impending rain. The Luidaeg was still standing on the circle’s edge, moving her fingers in small, seemingly random gestures that were probably all that kept us hidden. No one had exactly been focusing on their illusions in the chaos of breaking Blind Michael’s Ride.

  The kids that had been saved were stumbling around the circle, disoriented and confused by what had happened. Only the ones who had someone capable of claiming them—“friends, family, or blood-tied companions,” as the Luidaeg said—had been pulled out of the Ride. Time in Faerie is a funny thing. Some of the kids from the Children’s Hall were mixed into the crowd, clinging to their parents or their suddenly grown-up siblings and crying, or laughing, or both. The Centaur who’d spent so much time taunting me was there, his scales and strangeness washed away by the changes he’d gone through. He had his arms around the waist of a tall female Centaur with a strawberry coat. They were sobbing bitterly, and neither looked inclined to let go anytime soon. His Piskie companion was nowhere in sight. I was sorry to see that. She’d been as horrible to me as she could, but it wasn’t her fault. A little cruelty didn’t mean she should never get to go home.

  Of all the horses that had accompanied Blind Michael’s Ride, only Katie had been pulled inside the circle. She’d reverted to her human form after the cycle of transformations was finished, but that didn’t seem to have done anything to heal her mind. She was curled into a ball, sobbing. As I watched, Quentin tried to touch her upper arm, murmuring something that I couldn’t hear. She screamed, loudly and shrilly enough that if not for the Luidaeg’s spell, we would have had every security guard in Golden Gate Park on us in minutes. Luna winced and finally left my side, hurrying over to guide Quentin away from his huddled girlfriend.

  Katie stopped screaming and balled back up again, shivering. Poor kid. She was home, but she was still lost. Maybe we all were. I could still feel Blind Michael at the back of my mind, a light, fluttering presence trying to find a way back in. I shuddered.

  “When does it end, Luidaeg?” I asked, voice pitched low.

  She glanced over her shoulder at me. “That’s your choice to make, Toby. Go reassure your friends. They’ve been a little worried.”

  “I—”

  “We’ll talk about it later. Now if you’ll excuse me?” She smiled mirthlessly. “I need to hold this circle a little longer, and that does take a little bit of focus.”

  “Right,” I said, and stepped away, giving her space.

  Connor and Cassandra were working a strange sort of crowd control, keeping the kids and their parents inside the ring of light. Every time someone tried to leave, one of them was right there, guiding them back to the others. I couldn’t blame the parents for wanting to get their kids home—some of them had probably been missing for centuries—but a little more time wouldn’t hurt anything, and it might help a lot.

  May and Tybalt were standing off to one side, not helping with the organization, but not breaking the circle, either. I walked over to them, clutching May’s cloak tightly around myself.

  “Hello” seemed too simple and “thank you” was forbidden, so I said the first thing that popped into my head: “You two look awfully cozy.”

  “Oh, we are,” May said. Her sunny good cheer had only been slightly dampened by getting pummeled, bitten, and baked by the person whose death she was supposed to foretell. “We actually turn out to have a lot in common.”

  “Oh?” I raised an eyebrow.

  “Yes,” replied Tybalt, flatly. “The urge to smack you until you stop doing stupid things to yourself is at the head of the list.”

  “Hey, you helped me get to Shadowed Hills.”

  “And never have I mor
e regretted helping you, believe me. But it had to be done.” He scanned my face, expression unreadable. “You’re well?”

  “Sure. I mean, except for the whole getting myself enslaved by a crazy Firstborn asshole who was planning to marry me at the end of the Ride part, this has almost been a vacation.” I shrugged. “How’s it been out here?”

  “Karen woke up crying,” May said, voice suddenly flat. “Said your candle blew out. It’s a good thing she was with the Luidaeg. She would’ve scared the hell out of me.”

  “He locked the roads after he took you. No one got in, no one got out.” Tybalt kept looking at me with that same blank expression. “Every route we tried to reach his lands was blocked. All we could do was wait until the Ride came down and take you on the road.”

  “So, like, sorry about the whole abandoning you thing,” May finished.

  I shook my head. “Pretty sure you can’t abandon me, May, being as you’re my Fetch and everything. But . . . I appreciate what you did.” I appreciate skirted the absolute edges of propriety, almost crossing the line into thank you. If it bothered either of them, they didn’t show it. A brief silence fell between us. I glanced around the circle, taking one more look at the small clusters that had formed as grateful parents kept their children close. More and more of them were beginning to don their human disguises, anticipating the moment when the Luidaeg would drop the circle and let them go. As I should probably have expected, Amandine was nowhere to be seen.

  “You’d think Mom might have shown up,” I said, as lightly as I could manage. “Saving the life of her only daughter and everything. It could’ve been a bonding experience.”

  “Sadly, Amandine has disappeared again,” said Tybalt, scowling. “Her tower is sealed.”

  “Because that’s a big surprise.” Mom has spent more and more time vanishing into the deeper parts of the Summerlands since she decided to go crazy. I have no idea what she does there. It definitely doesn’t include sending postcards home.

  Connor stepped up beside me, taking my elbow. “If you could all get your disguises on, the Luidaeg says she’s about to drop the circle,” he said. “Toby, May, Luna wanted me to inform you that you’ll be riding back to Shadowed Hills with us. Sylvester wants to see you. Toby, can I see you for a second?”