One Salt Sea: An October Daye Novel

“But the Queen’s mixed, isn’t she? And my friend Mitch is part Nixie.”


“One, we don’t point fingers at kings or queens. Everyone knows the Queen of the Mists has sea-dweller blood, but nobody’s going to be gauche enough to point it out. Two, your friend is a changeling. He’s not in line for any thrones, and commoners aren’t as dangerous as legitimate heirs to noble titles. Three . . .” She hesitated, looking briefly uncertain. That was scarier than anything she could have said.

“Luidaeg?”

The sound of her name seemed to snap her out of it. She shook her head, repeating, “Three. Mixed blood can be unstable, depending on how distant the mix is. If two of Daddy’s descendants hook up, it doesn’t really matter what bloodline they’re from. If one of them decides to get it on with one of Mom’s descendants, well. There’s the potential for a lot of crazy.”

“Like changeling madness?”

“Exactly like changeling madness. We just don’t see as much of it in the mixed-bloods, because most of them either learn to hide it or get killed off. Some combinations are stable. Others, not so much. Most people aren’t happy when the nobility decides to risk it.”

“Right,” I said, feeling slightly numb as I reviewed all the mixed-bloods I could think of. Sylvester’s niece, January O’Leary, had a little bit of Tylwyth Teg blood and had been a little bit crazy. Devin was a changeling, but he was also a mixed-blood. And then there was Oleander, and Rayseline . . . “If Dianda and Patrick got married a hundred years ago, why is it a big deal now?”

“Someone’s been threatening to kill their children.”

I nearly dropped my coffee. “What?” The claim was so outrageous that I had trouble giving it credit, but the Luidaeg had never lied to me. She’s alien even among the fae, and too old to think in a way anyone less than a thousand really understands, but she wasn’t a liar.

Children are precious in Faerie, regardless of their heritage, and we don’t have enough of them to go around making threats. Blind Michael had been protected by the fact that he was Firstborn and scarier than anyone wanted to deal with. Even that wouldn’t have saved him if he’d taken his tithes more often. Offering to kill a noble’s kids is a good way to find out how many armed guards that noble can command—and how many soldiers their friends have.

“Whoever it is claims to have the Queen’s sanction. I’ve been trying to keep the Lordens from doing anything stupid, but their sons vanished this morning. Dianda and Patrick are scared. Frightened people—frightened parents—can do some incredibly destructive things.” She pulled a slate-colored abalone shell the size of a silver dollar out of the empty air, dropping it on the table between us. “Carry this; if I need you, you’ll know. The wards on my home are set to allow you. Come if you need me. I’ll be there.”

I’d been so focused on what she was saying that I’d managed to forget why she was saying it. She was calling in my debts. “What do I need to do?” I picked up the shell. It was cold to the touch.

“You need to help me stop this war.” She stood.

“Luidaeg, what do you expect me to do? It’s not like I have any experience in war prevention. Why me?”

“Who else would it be? And all I expect you to do is the best you can. That’s all I ever wanted from your mother, and all I’ve ever asked of you. There’s a gathering tomorrow night at the Queen’s Court. The Lordens are coming to demand their children back; it’s probably going to be their last attempt to prevent the war. The Queen is sending someone to insist you attend as the representative of Goldengreen. Dress nicely. Go armed.”

“Luidaeg—”