Page 14 of A Divided Duty

“I won’t forgive you for this.”

He seemed to wilt, shoulders bowing inward and chest sinking in, like he was trying to make himself seem as small as he possibly could. “I know,” he said.

Luna looked back to me, and to Tybalt. “I hope you understand what you’ve done,” she said. “I hope you learn what it feels like when someone turns your mother-love against you. You shrug off knives and arrows like they’re nothing. Let’s see you recover from this wound.”

She turned, then, a sweeping, grandiose gesture that was only slightly spoiled by the fact that she looked for all the world like a child throwing a fit after being denied a favorite treat, and went storming down the hall. A few passing courtiers flinched and shied away, trying to avoid her glare.

And then she was gone, and Sylvester put his hands over his face. I could only tell from the way he was shaking that he had started to cry. I shot an alarmed look at Tybalt.

He shook his head, looking as anxious as I felt. I stepped away from him, moving toward Sylvester, and put a hand on his shoulder, fingers spread to increase the area of pressure.

“Hey,” I said. “That was very brave of you just there. Do you want to go into your study before someone sees us?”

He nodded, not saying anything, and let me guide him to his study door, hands still pressed against his face to hide his tears.

The door wasn’t locked. I pushed it open and the three of us slipped inside, out of view of the household staff. Not that it would matter: thanks to the courtiers who’d seen Luna storming off, some version of this story would be all over the knowe before the midnight meal, and there was nothing I could do about that.

Well. Almost nothing.

Once we were in the study, Sylvester pulled away from me and moved to stumble back to his desk, collapsing into the chair behind it and leaning his elbows on the desk itself, so that he could cradle his head in his hands. The impulse to ask if he was all right was as strong as it was stupid: he wasn’t all right. Anyone could see that. He was hurting, and I didn’t know how to help.

“Sylvester, is there someone I can call for you?” I asked. “Etienne, maybe? Or Simon?”

“He wouldn’t come,” said Sylvester, voice muffled by his hands. “He would never come for me. I abandoned him when I met Luna, I left him to fall into his liege’s clutches, and I didn’t even see that it was happening. I have no right to claim him as my brother.”

I exchanged a look with Tybalt. “This is bad.”

“Yes,” Tybalt agreed.

“Can you keep an eye on him while I make a couple of quick calls?”

He frowned. “Don’t go far. I don’t trust you wandering around the knowe while Luna’s this angry.”

“Just out into the hall,” I said soothingly. “I won’t go out of sight of the door, I promise.”

“All right,” he said, and moved toward the desk. “Sylvester? I’m going to stay with you, if that’s acceptable?”

“I don’t deserve your company,” said Sylvester.

“True,” said Tybalt. “I don’t like you, and a moment of bravery isn’t enough to pay for all the pain you’ve put my wife through. But she still cares about you, and she’s told me stories of the way you treated her when she was a child. I want Andi to have that sort of indulgent uncle in her life, and that means I need to tolerate you.”

Sylvester sniffled, then chuckled. Reassured by that sound, no matter how brief and small it was, I slipped back out into the hall and pulled out my phone.

April O’Leary, the cyber-Dryad daughter of Sylvester’s other niece, January, has been able to upgrade a decent amount of human technology to work in the Summerlands. Before her, we were constrained to sending messengers and finding the fae whose magic allowed them to communicate over distances. Now, the press of a few buttons can summon help—assuming the person you’re trying to call also has one of her upgraded telephones.

I’m pretty sure most of my swarm of teens and young adults would sooner give up their clothing than their mobile telephones. I opened my contact menu and scrolled until I got to Chelsea, then pressed the button and waited.

She answered on the second ring. “Do I need to grab Raysel and head for Florida?” she asked. “It’s way late there, but we could sneak in a few roller coasters before the parks shut down for the night.”

“No, nothing like that,” I said. “Have you been to Saltmist yet?”

There was a pause, during which I could almost hear her blinking. “A few times,” she said, finally. “Dean wanted me to know how to open a portal there in case there was an emergency at Goldengreen while he was visiting his parents. Dad can’t open a route that deep, so I get to be the taxi again. Why do you ask?”

“I need you to be a taxi.”

There was a thumping sound as she flopped backward on whatever surface she was sitting on. “Come on, Toby, really?”

“It’s for a good cause,” I said.