The Unkindest Tide (October Daye #13) - Seanan McGuire Page 0,137

it isn’t your duty,” she said, voice gentle. “This is something people older and more burdened than you have to take care of. You honor her by holding her memory. You honor her by passing her skin. You honor her with love, and life, and not letting this man drag you down. Let him go. Set him aside. I promise you, justice will be done.”

René turned to look at her, eyes brimming over with unshed tears. “Did you . . . did you know she was gone?” he asked.

“Not until I saw you,” she said. “But I know every Selkie. I know who carries every skin. I know you, René, and I know Isla, and I know there are only two deaths in the entire world that could push you to this point.” Her smile was fleeting. “I also know that if Mathias were dead, we’d have needed an army to keep you from slitting this fool’s throat. Not because you loved her any less than you love him. Because you made him promises you never had to make to her. Let go, René. Let us avenge her for you.”

He broke, sagging against the Luidaeg, burying his face against her shoulder and sobbing so loudly that it hurt my heart. Gillian had rejected me—again—my squire was chasing her through the Duchy of Ships without backup, and somehow none of that was as terrible, in that moment, as René’s sorrow.

“I know,” said the Luidaeg, stroking his hair with one hand. “I do. I’m sorry.” She looked over his head to me, raising an eyebrow. “Well? What are you waiting for? Tie that fucker up before he comes to and I have to slit his throat for looking at me funny.”

“On it,” I said, and bolted for my apartment, where I knew I’d find rope.

The Luidaeg’s voice chased after me, holding a hint of wild laughter in its depths: “And change your damn shirt! You look like a slaughterhouse!”

The more things change, I guess.

The courtyard had calmed into something resembling order when I emerged a few minutes later, wearing a clean shirt and carrying a long twist of rope over one shoulder. Torin’s guards were all standing to one side, divested of their weapons, eyes cast toward the dock. Helmi, Kirsi, and the male Cephali whose name I still didn’t know were positioned in front of them, holding tridents and scowling in a way that seemed more performative than anything else. They were showing off how good they were at their jobs.

It was easy to guess who they were showing off for: Captain Pete was standing near the mouth of the courtyard, speaking with Patrick and his sons. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but her expression was grave, and Patrick was nodding. Dean looked awestruck and confused. Peter just looked angry. I was getting the feeling that was pretty standard, for him.

Cassandra and Nolan were sitting at one of the courtyard tables. Oddly enough, Nolan acknowledged me first.

“Sir Daye!” he called jubilantly. “I hope you’re prepared to tell my sister of the glorious battle we fought here!”

“Yeah, because ‘hey, I took your brother to an accidental war zone’ is going to really endear me to the queen,” I said.

“She knew you were a scorpion when she picked you up,” said Cassandra, and clutched the side of her head with one hand. “I wish you could offshore some of that ridiculous healing of yours.”

“Sorry,” I said, turning my attention toward the fallen figure of Torin. The Luidaeg and René were standing nearby. She had a firm grip on the Selkie’s elbow, preventing him from doing anything she was going to make me regret later. That was nice. I liked it when my allies didn’t wind up inexplicably covered in blood. Tybalt wasn’t there.

I blinked, getting ready to start demanding a location for my fiancé, only to relax as the dark circle on Torin’s chest raised its head and yawned, showing me a mouthful of extremely sharp white teeth.

“Got tired of having thumbs again, huh?” I asked, as I approached the pair.

Tybalt closed his eyes and purred audibly.

“I think it was more ‘he got tired of people trying to ask him why you were covered in blood,’” said Marcia, falling into step beside me. Her hands were filled with green things, mint and rosemary and basil and feverfew. I didn’t want to ask, and so I didn’t. Sometimes silence is the best weapon of them all. “I tried telling them that it’s