One Salt Sea: An October Daye Novel

It was a ritual phrase, even if it was one I’d never heard before; it had the cadence and weight of something repeated many times. Somehow, it helped. I sniffled, nodding my thanks, and said, “So maybe this is a bad time to ask, but about that war . . .”


“I’ll send a message to your Queen at once. You have the eternal gratitude of my family, and of my Duchy. You will always be welcome there.”

“Cool. I can bring Quentin for a visit next time I feel like letting the Luidaeg use dangerous enchantments on me.”

Dianda hesitated before asking, “Was she here?”

I didn’t even have to look to know that the Luidaeg was gone. “Yeah. She helped us get into the shallowing where Dean and Peter were being held.”

“It would be nice to see her again,” said Dianda wistfully. “It’s been a long time.”

“About that. Why is she here? If she’s the sea witch, shouldn’t she be in the Undersea, and not drinking all the damn Diet Coke in San Francisco?”

Dianda looked startled. “She abandoned the Undersea centuries ago. I thought she would have . . . she’s welcome in the waters any time she wants to come home. She left us, not the other way around.”

“Why?” asked Quentin.

“The Roane,” said Dianda simply. “They were her descendants. Almost all of them died. And she left.”

I thought back on her behavior around Connor, and asked, “Did the Selkies have something to do with it?”

Dianda nodded. That was all she had to do.

I took a deep breath, preparing to change the subject. “Your Grace, I’d like to talk to you about Dean. I have some ideas, if you’d be willing to hear them. About how we can make relations a little better between the land Courts and the Undersea.” I looked toward Patrick and his sons. The boys were sitting on the sand now, Patrick hovering nearby, like he was afraid they’d all be washed away at any moment.

Dianda followed my gaze. “What do you have in mind?”

“It’s a little complicated, and we’re not actually done yet—Rayseline has been elf-shot. She’ll stand trial when she wakes up, but she wasn’t working alone, and the man I think she was working with is a trusted courtier in the Queen’s Court.” I raised a hand to cut off Dianda’s protest before it could begin. “I really don’t think the Queen was involved, but I need your help to prove it.”

“Help?” She tilted her head, assessing my expression. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well, first, we call a man named Walther for a final bit of confirmation. And then we give Dugan a lot of rope, and see whether or not he hangs himself.” I smiled grimly, motioning for Sylvester to come closer. “Once Patrick’s done reassuring himself that your sons are okay, I can tell you what I’m thinking.”

Dianda nodded. “I think I speak for all of us when I say I truly can’t wait to hear.”

“Good,” I said. “I can’t wait either.”





THIRTY-FOUR


I WALKED INTO THE QUEEN’S COURT with an unconscious, emaciated teenage boy hanging limply in my arms. A hush fell, creating a bubble of silence that moved with me across the ballroom floor. Sylvester followed me, and his men followed him, all of them as silent and as solemn as I was. For once, the Queen had done nothing with my clothes, possibly because we’d all come courtesy of the Tuatha de Dannan shuttle service. Etienne would forgive me eventually. I hoped.

The Queen herself stood when she saw me coming, eyes narrowing as she marked our progress across the floor. “What have you brought me today, Countess Daye?” she asked, sinking slowly back into her throne. Her voice sent shivers racing along my spine, but she was holding back, not using it as the weapon that it sometimes was.