The Unkindest Tide (October Daye #13) - Seanan McGuire Page 0,110
shouldn’t be enough to summon a hero. Not unless you’re intending to slay our Firstborn.”
“She’s a friend of mine, so no,” I said. I had spent a lot of time cultivating a good relationship with the Luidaeg. Even if some of that time had been accidental, I didn’t want to waste it. There was also the little matter of my having brought her back from the dead once, after her sister Eira had broken into her apartment and attacked her. That sort of thing makes it difficult to commit to slaughter. “I’m here because whoever stole Isla’s skin murdered her. She didn’t fall. She didn’t commit suicide. She was murdered.”
René made a small snuffling sound and pressed his face into Mathias’ shoulder. Mathias, thank Oberon, sat up a little straighter, some of the malice leaving his face, to be replaced by amazement.
“Meaning you’re throwing this upon the judgment of the clans,” he said.
“Yes. The Luidaeg gave you permission to steal from each other. She didn’t supersede or dismiss clan law, and clan law, according to Elizabeth, forbids the unnecessary killing of your human kin. Isla died human.”
“You mean the Lady intended her to live and suffer all the days of her life, knowing what she’d lost,” said Mathias witheringly. “Whoever killed her may have been trying to do her mercy.”
“We’re fae. We don’t do mercy.” I kept my gaze steady, not allowing myself to waver. “I’m a hero of the realm, Mathias Lefebvre. Will you allow me to fulfill my duty, and find the one who killed your . . .” I faltered. “I don’t know the term for ‘you’re both leaders of Selkie clans,’ but that’s what I want to do. Liz has already said I can. There are only four of you left. If two of you give me permission, then I can do whatever needs to be done and not worry about someone saying I’m not allowed to be here.”
“She was my fellow chief, and my kin through René.” Mathias put a comforting arm around his husband’s shoulder. “We rarely saw eye to eye, but we were friendly, for his sake. Yes. You have my permission to find the one who killed her.”
“I want her skin,” said René, with sudden, brutal fierceness.
I turned to him, blinking. “What?”
“My sister’s skin. I want it. You say someone stole it from her, rendered her human, and killed her? I don’t care what the sea witch gave us permission to do. She was murdered, and I can claim recompense, and I want her skin. It’s been in our family since the beginning. It was our mother’s. I want it back.”
I bit my lip, glancing to Tybalt, who looked hopelessly back at me. Under most circumstances, it would have been nice to see him as baffled as I was. This wasn’t most circumstances.
“René . . .” I shifted my focus back to the Selkie man, who was staring at me, impatient and defiant. “You know this Convocation ends with the Luidaeg using me to bind the skins to their wearers and bring back the Roane.”
“I know,” he said. “Mathias and I don’t have any children. We’ve been trying to decide how we want to do that. Neither does . . . neither did Isla. There wasn’t time. She thought she had so much longer than this. But our clan has children, and my sister wouldn’t begrudge me giving her skin to one of them, any more than I would have begrudged her giving mine to a child of Belle Fleuve. We knew when we went to different clans that this day might come. You always hope it won’t. You always understand that it will.”
One more complication was exactly what we didn’t need, especially with Torin prowling around, Dianda in custody, and the Luidaeg sailing off to find her absent sister. Looking at René’s eyes, I realized I couldn’t tell him I wouldn’t at least try.
“I’ll do what I can,” I said. “If the skin has already been passed to a new owner . . .”
“I need to meet them,” he said. “I need to know whether they’re someone my sister would have approved of. If they’re not, I’ll take it back, and screw the sea witch if she doesn’t like it.”
Mathias looked horrified. Liz looked like she wanted a drink. Quentin grinned.
“I like this one,” he said.
“Lovely: the Crown Prince approves of my husband.” Mathias scowled at his cider. “I suddenly find myself wishing I shared my colleague’s lack of caution where