Chimes at Midnight: An October Daye Novel by Seanan McGuire Read Free Book Online Page A

faltered as he realized he’d almost mentioned Connor. He glanced guiltily at Tybalt. Tybalt, bless him, didn’t say anything.
    Purebloods don’t like to think about death much. It upsets them to remember that people aren’t eternal. Connor’s death nearly broke me. But he died to save my little girl, and I couldn’t shame him by refusing to go on with my own life. “The goblin fruit started showing up on the streets after Connor died,” I said. “I was looking . . . I don’t even know what I was looking for. I was looking for trouble. I found it.”
    “I thought you were going to die, too,” Quentin admitted in a small voice. I stared at his reflection, shocked. That was something he’d never said out loud, no matter how much his behavior told me he was feeling it. He looked down at his hands, twisting them together in his lap, and said, “It’s why I kept telling Tybalt where you were going, and how much danger you were putting yourself in. I hoped maybe you’d listen to him, even if you wouldn’t listen to me.”
    Tybalt nodded, confirming Quentin’s story. I winced.
    “Oak and ash, Quentin, I’m sorry.”
    “Yeah, well.” He raised one shoulder and let it drop again in a classic teenage half-shrug. “When I had to break up with Katie, I sort of felt like dying for a little while. I guess having someone you love
die
has to be a whole lot worse.”
    “It is,” I said honestly. “It’s the worst thing you can imagine.” I glanced at Tybalt, who was still looking straight ahead, letting us talk without him. I took my right hand off the wheel and placed it on his knee, earning myself a quick, almost grateful look. “But it gets better.”
    “That’s good. It’s just . . . you never told me why you started hunting goblin fruit the way you have been. I’m your squire, Toby. I’m supposed to support you while you train me, and I can’t do that if you never tell me what’s going on. It’s my
job
to be here for you.” He sounded profoundly frustrated. “People are dying. I get that. I could have helped, if you’d let me.”
    I took a deep breath, pulling my hand from Tybalt’s knee and raking the hair out of my face. Finally, I said, “Let me ask you something. Have you ever tried goblin fruit?”
    There was a long pause before Quentin answered, “No. I mean. Some of the older courtiers back home had tried it, but I wasn’t old enough when I came here, and Duke Torquill doesn’t allow the stuff in his Court.”
    Quentin was originally from Canada—somewhere near Toronto, if I placed his faint and fading accent correctly. Where near Toronto was something I didn’t know. He was a blind foster to the Duchy of Shadowed Hills, which made his parentage and title, if any, a secret until such time as his fosterage ended or his parents chose to reveal themselves. “So you’ve never had any, but you’ve talked to people who have. What do they say about it?”
    “That it’s like going to the deeper lands of Faerie, even if it’s only for a little while.” Quentin’s tone turned disdainful. “I’ve
been
to the deeper lands. I didn’t like it much.”
    I had to fight the urge to laugh. It would just have offended his dignity, and it wouldn’t have been fair: I didn’t like the deeper lands much either. Tybalt wasn’t so restrained. He snorted. All three of us had wound up in Annwn, a realm that’s supposed to be long-sealed. Our stay had involved a lot of bleeding, mostly on my part, and a lot of pain, for everyone. I was just as glad to be home. “Yeah, but I bet it sounded pretty appealing before you knew what the deeper lands were like.”
    “I guess so,” admitted Quentin.
    “Now imagine how amazing that sounds to changeling kids. They’re on the outside looking in. They’re never going to have as much magic as everybody else. They’re not going to live as long as everybody else. Hell, half the courtiers I knew when I was a kid said even setting foot in the deeper