The Unkindest Tide (October Daye #13) - Seanan McGuire Page 0,36

all too well. They were very similar to the reasons I wasn’t letting go of Quentin, and the reason my heart sank as Rodrick continued his introductions.

“From the Court in the Mists, standing in lieu of Her Majesty, Queen Arden Windermere, Prince Nolan Windermere and Her Majesty’s seneschal, Cassandra Brown.”

Nolan and Cassandra walked decorously down the gangplank. Nolan was still in his rumpled turn-of-the-century finery, but Cassandra had exchanged her jeans and sweatshirt for a dress of blue linen a few shades lighter than the lamplit sky above us. She walked three steps behind Nolan, as was technically appropriate for a changeling in service to a pureblood court, her head bowed and her hands folded in front of her. My breath caught in my throat. I’ve known Cassandra since she was born, and while there’s a fourteen-year chunk missing in the middle, courtesy of my time in the pond, I’d never truly seen her in the context of Faerie before.

She was glorious. She was where she’d always been intended to be. Only our prior ruler’s prejudices against changelings had kept Cassandra from this side of her heritage for so long, and I was suddenly, fiercely grateful to see her this way.

“From the Ryan clan among the Selkies, Gillian Marks.”

There she was, my baby girl, alone and anxious at the top of the gangplank, hugging her arms around herself and looking around like she wanted nothing more than to leap into the waiting sea and swim away as fast as she could. She didn’t have anyone to lean on, and so when she took her first step down, her foot shot out from under her and she went sprawling, landing hard on her behind.

“Gillian!” I was halfway up the gangplank before I realized I was going to move. I didn’t stop. I didn’t stop until I was beside her, dropping to my knees on the wood, offering my arm so she could pull herself to her feet.

She glared at me and slapped my arm away. “I’m not a part of your fiefdom, remember?” she snapped, and there was a depth of hurt in her voice that wounded me as surely as any arrow. She pushed herself to her feet, wobbling as she turned and stomped down the gangplank, her anger somehow lending her the stability she needed to remain upright. I stayed where I was, baffled and aching from the urge to run after her.

What had just happened? Maybe more importantly, how could I fix it?

The people who’d gathered to watch us arrive whispered behind their hands, enthralled by the drama we were enacting for their amusement. I stood, bracing myself as carefully as I could, intending to stalk back to where Tybalt and Quentin were waiting for me.

Naturally, I immediately fell on my ass. Like mother, like daughter, I suppose.

I heal at a rate that’s frankly offensive to anyone who believes actions should have consequences, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel pain. The impact of my behind on the wood was hard enough to send a shock along my spine, and I sat there for a moment, blinking in shock and surprise. Unfortunately for me, I was still sitting there when Rodrick decided he couldn’t keep the rest of his passengers waiting any longer.

“From the Kingdom in the Mists, apprentice Poppy,” he announced, and Poppy launched herself into the air, stained glass wings beating harder than any pixie’s would have needed to, fighting to keep her increased weight aloft. It had taken her a while to learn how to fly again after giving up her pixiehood for Simon Torquill’s sake. Still, she made a striking sight as she cut through the air toward the dock, a moving painting in all the colors of the living autumn.

Some of the people surrounding us gasped. A few clapped hands over their mouths, staring . . . and then a man who could have been her brother, only rendered in shades of red and pink instead of orange, pushed his way through the crowd, pulling Poppy into a fierce embrace even as they both burst into tears.

“What the . . . ?”

“When you want to keep something secret, you send it out to sea,” said a familiar voice. I tilted my head back. The Luidaeg stood over me, offering her hand. “There are a lot of secrets buried far from familiar shores.”

“You said the Aes Sidhe died out,” I said, letting her pull me to my feet. Her skin was cooler than normal,