A Local Habitation

That got my attention. “Days?”


“Just long enough to make sure that everything’s all right. We’re sending Quentin along to assist you, and Luna’s made your hotel reservations.”

Now it was my turn to raise an eyebrow. “You think I’m going to need assistance?”

“To be quite honest, I haven’t the faintest idea.” He looked down into his coffee cup, shoulders slumping. “Something’s going on down there. I just don’t know what it is, and I’m worried about her. She’s always been one to bite off more than she can chew.”

“Hey. Don’t worry. I’ll find out.”

“Things may not be as . . . simple as they sound at first. There are other complications.”

“Like what?”

“January is my niece, yes. She’s also the Countess of Tamed Lightning.”

My eyes widened. That put a whole new spin on the situation. January being Countess explained why Tamed Lightning had been able to become a full County in the first place; Dreamer’s Glass might be willing to challenge one small County, but they wouldn’t want to challenge the neighboring Duchy at the same time. Even if the relationship had been kept quiet, the people at or above the Ducal level would have known. Gossip spreads too fast in Faerie for something that juicy to be kept quiet. “I see.”

“Then you must see how it makes this politically awkward.”

“Dreamer’s Glass could view it as the start of something bigger than family concern.” I may not like politics, but I have a rudimentary understanding of the way they work.

“Exactly.” He looked up. “No matter what’s going on, Toby, I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to send help.”

“But you’re sure this is an easy job.”

“I wouldn’t send Quentin if I didn’t think you’d both be safe.”

I sighed. “Right. I’ll call regularly to keep you posted.”

“And you’ll be careful?”

“I’ll take every precaution.” How many precautions did I need? Political issues aside, it was a baby-sitting assignment. Those don’t usually rank too high on the “danger” scale.

“Good. January’s the only blood family I have left in this country, except for Rayseline. Now, January’s an adult, but I’ve considered her my responsibility since her mother passed away. Please, take care of her.”

“What about—”

“I have no brother.” His expression was grim.

“I understand, Your Grace.” The last time Sylvester asked me to take care of his family, my failure cost us both: he lost Luna, and I lost fourteen years. His twin brother, Simon, was the cause of both those losses. “I’m going to try.”

“I appreciate it.” He put his cup down on a clear patch of coffee table, pulling a folder out of his coat. “This contains directions, a copy of your hotel reservations, a parking pass, and a map of the local fiefdoms. I’ll reimburse any expenses, of course.”

“Of course.” I took the folder, flipping through it. “I can’t think of anything else I’m likely to need.” I looked up. “Why are you sending Quentin with me, exactly?”

“We’re responsible for his education.” A smile ghosted across his face. “Seeing how you handle things will be nothing if not educational.”

I sighed. “Great. Where am I picking him up?”

“He’s waiting by your car.”

“He’s what?” I groaned. “Oh, oak and ash, Sylvester, it’s too damn early in the morning for this.”

“Is it?” he asked, feigning innocence. Sylvester’s wife, Luna, is one of the few truly diurnal fae I’ve ever met. After a few hundred years of marriage, he’s learned to adjust. The rest of us are just expected to cope.

“I hate you.”

“Of course you do.” He chuckled as he stood. “I’ll get out of your way and let you prepare. I’d appreciate it if you could leave immediately.”

“Certainly, Your Grace,” I said, and moved to hug him before showing him to the door.