Page 95 of The Innocent Sleep

“Dean and I, and a bunch of other people Titania didn’t think needed to exist. We’ve been exiled and fully aware of what that means, for months. And now we’re back, and no one knows us, and I have to travel with the man who ruined my life.”

On a small, bitter level, I had to appreciate the fact that the number of people in my company who despised Simon Torquill had remained constant. In the moment, I patted Raysel on the shoulder. “We promised you the hospitality of our house, and you still have it. I’ll protect you if necessary.”

Raysel smiled at me, gratefully, even as the Luidaeg’s voice cut across the scene.

“Right now, we need to find Titania and stop her from Riding,” she said.

“If this place is modeled off the false Queen’s knowe, there should be a stable,” replied October.

“Great.” The Luidaeg looked at her expectantly. “Where is it?”

October took a step back, clearly startled, although it was a reasonable question under the circumstances. “I have no idea,” she protested. “You think she invited me to go hunting with her? She would have been happier having an excuse to turn me into a rabbit and go hunting for me.”

The Luidaeg scoffed. “Oh, please, Toby. Think a little more highly of yourself. She’d have turned you into a coyote at the very least. Something she could call vermin and feel good about killing.”

October scowled. “I can’t tell if that was supposed to be a compliment or not.”

“Good.”

“Excuse me.”

We all turned to face Simon Torquill. He was half-leaning on Dean, one hand pressed against his side and a look on his face like he was about to be sick. “I may be able to help.”

“That would be a first,” muttered Raysel.

I said nothing. Their relationship was theirs to repair.

“How?” asked the Luidaeg.

Simon shrugged. “I served my patron for a very long time, and she often sent me to attend functions at the High Court on her behalf. Assuming this place follows even a portion of the original floor plan, I should be able to find the stables. Although it would be very much appreciated if we could stop by the kitchens first, to let me get a glass of water.”

“Getting something in their stomachs will help them shake off the iron,” said the Luidaeg, looking to October. As always seemed to be the case, we were all deferring to her as our leader. “Water would be good. Milk would be better. Milk, bread, and chocolate would be best, if we can’t crash an alchemy lab and get some anti-iron treatments.” She looked speculatively at Simon, who shook his head.

“I never had access to the royal alchemy labs. If they exist in this iteration of the knowe, I won’t be able to get inside.”

“Pity. Kitchens it is. Lead the way.”

She gestured grandly down the hall. Simon started to walk again, Dean alongside him, and the rest of us followed.

TWENTY-FIVE

TRUE TO HIS WORD, Simon led us down a series of eerily silent halls to the kitchens, which were warm, well lit, and utterly deserted. He looked briefly nonplussed when we stepped inside to the crackle of the fires and the soft sound of simmering pots on the hob, only to find that no one was there. Then he shrugged, gesturing for Dean to help him toward the cold closet.

“She must not have bothered to recreate or relocate servants no one would ever see,” he said. “Anyone who worked here has moved on, and not many settled with Queen Windermere. Those who have are probably somewhere in the knowe, such as it is.”

“She’s treating people like dolls,” said Raysel sourly. “It’s not right.”

“None of this is right,” I agreed. “Is the food safe?”

The Luidaeg spread her blistered hands in surrender. “Your guess is as good as mine. I want to say anything we find here was created with my stepmother’s magic, but my hands wouldn’t feel like this if I just thought I’d been exposed to iron, which means there’s real iron in those dungeons. Maybe the food is real and stolen from someplace else, maybe it’s magical and make-believe, maybe it’s whatever was in the false Queen’s larder when the knowe collapsed, enchanted to seem edible even though it’s all ashes and mold. I have no way of knowing.”

“Maybe I do?” volunteered August, timidly. She raised one hand, like she was waiting to be called on.

The Luidaeg took pity on her. “How?” she asked.

“We need . . . Toby needs to keep her strength, she can’t be disenchanting loaves of bread or whatever,” said August. “But I can see the spells too, now, and if there’s one on the food, I can break it.”

The Luidaeg blinked, looking briefly impressed. “That is not the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” she said. “We’ll go with that. Simon?”