The Unkindest Tide (October Daye #13) - Seanan McGuire Page 0,68

He didn’t deserve to be swept up in all this.

“Where will the trial be?” A dire thought occurred to me. “There is a trial, right? Torin isn’t going to haul her off and have her executed as part of this succession thing? Because if that’s the plan, we need to organize a jailbreak right now.” The Lordens could be exiles in the Mists, if it came to that. King Gilad had been a friend of theirs. His daughter would never refuse to offer them sanctuary.

Dianda would be miserable on land, but she’d be alive. We could get her a saltwater swimming pool or something. She could be safe. All the Lordens could be safe. Assuming it wasn’t already too late for the youngest of them.

No. Screw that. I wasn’t going to think that way. I turned and walked to the Luidaeg’s apartment, rapping lightly. There was no response. I knocked harder. There was still no response. I started knocking even harder, hammering on the door until the side of my hand ached. The others watched silently, clearly not understanding what I was trying to do—or if they did understand, not seeing a way to help.

That was fine. As usual, I was making this up as I went along.

“Yo, Luidaeg!” I yelled, over the sound of my own hammering. “I heal like it’s a contest, remember? I can break my hand on this damn door and keep right on going. So open up, before you get a headache to go with the rest of your problems.”

There was a long pause. I kept knocking. Maybe my first appeal hadn’t worked, but my second would, or my third, or my fifth—however many it took. We didn’t have a lot of time, but this was still where things needed to begin.

The door swung open without warning. I was already in the middle of my next knock, and for one horrible moment, I thought I was going to punch the Luidaeg square in the face. She was capable of forgiving me for a great many things, but even so, that would be pushing it.

She caught my hand. Effortlessly, stopping me in mid-motion, sending a bone-jarring shock up my arm and into my shoulder.

“What,” she said flatly. It wasn’t a question. I would have liked it better if it had been a question. Irritable, artificially annoyed Luidaeg was something I knew how to deal with. This . . .

She looked exhausted. She looked resigned. Worst of all, she looked sad, like she’d already considered all the ways this might play out, and had found absolutely no happy endings.

Screw that. She was bound not to act against the children of Titania. I had no such restrictions. The Lordens weren’t mine the way Tybalt and Quentin and even Marcia were, but they were my friends. They had put themselves at risk for me before, and I’d be damned before I failed to do the same for them.

“You said we had two days before the Convocation would conclude and the Selkies would be bound to their skins,” I said. “Is there anything else you’re going to need me to do between now and then, or am I free to wander around as I like?”

She blinked once before saying warily, “You’re free to wander, although with Pete gone, there’s not a ferry back to the Mists. And that’s not an invitation to steal a ship and go by yourself. I don’t want to answer to Pete when she demands to know why you’re commandeering her ships.”

“No, that’s going to be you.”

“What?”

I took a deep breath. “We pass debts back and forth between us like some kind of toy. Now I owe you, now you owe me. This, helping you bring back the Roane, it clears the debts I incurred from you when you helped me to save Tybalt’s life. We’re square. Right?”

“Right,” she said, sounding even warier.

She was probably right to be suspicious. What I was about to ask for existed somewhere in the strange hinterland between ridiculous and suicidal, and honestly, it wouldn’t even have been that reasonable if I hadn’t been so difficult to kill.

“Luidaeg, I need your help.”

“What happened to leaving me alone because I was here to bury my children?” she asked.

“If I leave you alone, he buries his son.” I gestured behind me, toward Patrick. “That changes things. Please, Luidaeg. We’re both parents. We can’t let someone else lose a child.”

She started to answer me. Then she stopped, sighed, and asked, “What are you planning