Winter (The Manhattan Exiles) (17 page)

“Yes, my lady. It’s as I supposed. I guessed, when Healy sent me pictures of his sword. I knew, when I heard the stones sing. But until now, I didn’t dare hope.”

Gabby’s whiskers twitched. Around Siobahn the air began to crackle.

“Sword?” Siobahn asked, cold.

Surprise made Katherine’s dark eyes widen. Then her expression went carefully blank.

“Interesting,” said the Grey Lady. “He doesn’t trust you, still. I can’t say I blame the boy.”

“
Gabriel.”

“
Your ladyship.” Without a thought for the dog or the height, Gabby dropped from her branch. The marble was as unyielding as Siobahn’s stare and the mouse staggered a little before finding balance.

She ran across wet leaves and hunched in Siobahn’s shadow, tiny heart racing.

“Your ladyship. He sent a tale with the rubies. Only, I haven’t yet had a chance -”

“
She doesn’t trust you, either, Siobahn,” Katherine Grey said. “She was biding her time, waiting to see what I made of the jewels.”

“
No!” Gabby’s mouse brain began to panic. She saw the threat in Siobahn’s stance and knew she should flee. “That isn’t so, my lady, you know that isn’t so!”

“
Stop it!” Lolo stood between Gabby and the Fay Queen. “You’re frightening her! Leave Gabby alone! Touch her, and Winter will kill you!”

Summer gasped. Still seated on the ground, Katherine laughed, merry.

“Siobahn,” she trilled, “look how history repeats itself. You never should have punished the lad, sent him away. Look what a fine little group of supporters he’s already gathered. A human orphan and your father’s most trusted advisor. Gabriel, we know you’re fickle, but I never thought you’d betray Angus’ child. Why, you must surely be mad, mad as our Hatter here -”

Siobahn lunged.

“Run!” Lolo cried, but Gabby was already away, scrabbling as fast as she could over the slippery ground.

A shadow loomed, snarling, and the mouse veered, running for the shelter of the trees. The dirt was softer, damper above the hillock. She could dig in between the roots, burrow deep. Or climb a trunk and hide in a squirrel’s nest until she was safe, forgotten.

She was almost to safety when the sky went dark and fell, pinning her to the grass, punching the air from her lungs.

Something had her about the throat, shaking, shaking. She squealed once in terror. Then the bones in her neck cracked and the world dissolved.

She came to slowly, her brain waking before her body, familiar voices running over her ears, raised and angry.

“ - at once, without argument -”

“
- trusted you to keep her safe, Lolo. She’s a mouse, for fuck’s sake, not a -”

Winter, cold as his name. What was he doing away from the tunnels?

“A bat shit crazy fast mouse, Win.” Lolo sounded sullen and frightened. “The dog barely caught her, I didn’t have a chance. You said protect the rubies. I was watching the rubies. I’m only human.”

“
Exactly my point,” said Siobahn, high and clear. “You will come home, Winter. And you will bring the girl. Until we recover the sword, and the scabbard, she is not secure.”

“
I’m not leaving my city unprotected. Have you forgotten the vows you insisted I swear?  And it’s not me who was foolish enough to tangle with the Grey Lady, Mother.”

Be careful, Winter
, Gabby thought. She struggled to move, but managed only to open her eyes.

“
Hush,” murmured Summer. “Stay still. Papa said you have to stay still for the Mending to work.”

Gabby rolled her eyes, trying to focus. She was cupped between Summer’s hands, she realized,
and wrapped in Katherine Grey’s fringed shawl.

“
It was worth the tangle,” said Siobahn, stiffly. “Liadan was more than happy to explain everything you kept back. You made me look the fool.”

“
I didn’t know about the scabbard. As for the rest, I’m sorry.”

“
A fool is weak, Winter. And a weak queen is no queen at all.”

“
I’m sorry,” he said again, sounding weary. “I sent Gabby to tell you. The usual way didn’t seem safe. I had no idea . . .”

“
That she’d end up a chew toy?” Lolo sank to his knees next to Summer, his young mouth bitter.  There was a smear of dirt on his forehead and grass in his beads.

“
She’ll be fine.” Summer ran a delicate finger between Gabby’s ears. “Papa says she just needs time and rest.”

“
Bring the girl here,” ordered Siobahn.

“
Her name is Aine. And she’s safe with me.”

“
I want to question her.”

“
No.”

“
Your father says he might make her remember. How it was done, how they came across.”

“
We know how it was done,” said Winter. “Blood sacrifice and tainted magic. Neither will work for us.”

“
Maybe you’re mistaken.”

Gabby thought she could see Siobahn, pacing the dim room. In her hand she clutched a small round hand mirror, the sort many mortal women kept in their bags.

“What did Katherine Grey say the sword was called?” the mirror asked in Winter’s voice. The glass glowed gently with the force of Siobahn’s will.

Siobahn bowed her head, long dark hair falling free.

“
Buairt
,” the queen admitted, and at the same moment Summer whispered: “Sorrow.”

“
A sword named Sorrow and rubies that frighten the Grey Lady. Do you recall what you said to me, Mother, right before you pierced my ears?”

Gabby closed her eyes again, because she didn’t want to see Siobahn’s face.

“You said to me,” continued Winter, ruthless, “you said to me that some ideas are mistakes from the very moment they are conceived, and are better left unheard.”

Siobahn made an angry noise, and took the glowing mirror from the room, slamming the door behind her.

Summer sighed.

“Nice,” said Lolo. “No wonder he doesn’t like to phone home. His own mother broke his ears?”

“
It’s not as simple as that,” Summer snapped. Then she sighed again.

“
The queen did what she had to,” said Gabby. She cleared her throat, and tried to focus. “We’re back at the hotel?”

“
Mama’s rooms.” Summer curled her fingers protectively. “Papa said you would sleep until tomorrow. I don’t think you’re supposed to be awake yet. Does it hurt?”

“
No.” Gabby licked her muzzle. Her head ached and her legs felt heavy. “What happened?”

“
You ran and the little sausage dog tried to eat you,” Lolo replied from the floor. “Which pretty much stopped her Ladyship from ripping Katherine’s eyes out. Which is a good thing, because together they were able to keep you alive.”

“
Katherine’s driver rushed us home and Katherine and Papa were able to fix you, mostly.”

“
Then Malachi loomed over Katherine until she told him everything she knew about the sword and rubies. The sword’s a nasty piece of work. It used to have a scabbard made of pig skin -”

“
Pigs who used to be men.” Above Gabby, Summer worried at her lip with her teeth. “Mortal men.”

“
Pigmen. They were sailors, or something, until Gloriana turned them to pigs because they were rude and trampled her favorite garden.”

“
Island,” corrected Summer. “They landed on her island, and made a mess of it, the way mortals do. So she turned them into pigs and kept some of them for bacon. Three of the rudest were made into a scabbard.”

“
She turned their blood to rubies.” Lolo sounded impressed. “The rubies were sewn onto the scabbard, as decoration.”

“
And warning,” added Summer, somber.

“
More blood magic,” Gabby said. “What do you mean, mostly fixed?”

Lolo sat on his knees. He leaned forward until his nose seemed to take up Gabby’s entire world.
“You were pretty badly torn up. Malachi put you back together but he said you wouldn’t feel yourself for a while. Because fairy healing magic doesn’t work on you very well. Because you’re a mouse.”

“
Hush,” admonished Summer. “You’ll be just fine, Mistress, after a day or two. Until then you have to rest. Papa said so.”

“
And where is your papa, now?”

“
Downstairs,” replied Lolo. “Muttering about security with that Barker dude. Talk about cliché. Does he always dress like the Men in Black?”

“
Barker likes to look professional,” returned Summer. “He’s good at his job.”

“
Very good at his job,” agreed Siobahn, slipping back into the room. She’d tied her hair up into a ponytail and looked younger than her daughter.

She pinned Gabby with a cool gaze.
“Which is why we’re not going to worry.”

“
Is there more to worry about?” Gabby managed to roll into a crouch. She didn’t like the set lines about Siobahn’s mouth. “More than a sword named Sorrow, rubies conjured from the blood of men, and Katherine Grey’s bid for your crown? My lady.”

Summer cupped her hands around Gabby, restraining and protecting at the same time.

“You’re very bold for such a delicate creature. The pint-sized hound nearly tore you apart. You, who once would have turned Katherine into flea for her temerity.”

“
Sweet.” Lolo looked impressed. “An actual flea? Really?”

“
Once I would have simply stopped her heart and been done with it.” Gabby’s head throbbed but she met Siobahn’s stare without flinching.

Siobahn’s shoulders slumped. Gabby knew she was the only person in the room who noticed.

“I can’t offer you the old wisdom. Not even to save my own life,” the mouse said, quietly. “But I will continue to offer my loyalty, and my counsel, as I did your father, and your father’s father, and your great-mother before him.”

“
For all the good it did them.” But Siobahn’s expression softened. She paced to the window, and looked out onto the city. “Winter refuses to bring the girl to me. My son is over-protective. I do believe he thinks Malachi will tear her apart, looking for answers.”

“
Mama,” protested Summer. “He doesn’t think that.”

“
He does. And he’s not wrong.” Siobahn set her palm against the window glass. Outside, the wind picked up, throwing small spats of rain against the hotel. “There’s little Mal wouldn’t do to send us home.”

“
He’s not protecting the girl,” corrected Gabby. “He’s protecting you. From yourselves.”

“
Of course he is,” replied Siobahn, calm. Her ponytail bobbed as she nodded. She didn’t turn around. She traced one finger along the window, drawing rain drops in a thin glistening stream, absently painting patterns on the outside of the glass.

Feeling was returning to Gabby’s toes. She stretched them one by one, waiting as her queen considered.

Lolo propped his chin on his hands. He watched Siobahn’s idle magic with interest and obvious skepticism. Lolo would defend Winter to the end, Gabby knew. She doubted the boy had any such attachment to Aine. He might be willing to collect her for Siobahn simply to see what would happen next.

“
Winter’s almost always right,” Summer said softly into Gabby’s ear. “He’s only ever really made the one mistake. He’s stuck up and prissy about it, but it’s true. Mama knows it.”

Siobahn turned from the window. The water she’d been playing with ran down the glass and out of sight.

“Very well. We’ll leave the girl to my son. For now.” She fixed Gabriel with her narrowed gaze. “I need your counsel,
aes sí
. We have a trap to bait.”

“
Oh, aye?” A shiver of alarm made Gabby’s tail twitch.

“
Aye. Whatever he’s about, your mortal will want the stones back. My son may be stubborn, but he’s no fool. The rubies are here, under
my
protection. It won’t be long before Smith comes hunting after. I intend to catch him when he does.”

“
Sweet,” said Lolo, again. Summer groaned loudly.

10
. Knives

Bran was boiling pasta in candlelight when the house phone rang.

He glanced at the clock on the range, wiped his hands on a dish towel, and grabbed the wall receiver.

“Healy,” he snapped. “It’s past my bedtime, and it’s also my day off. If someone’s dead, call the precinct.”

“
I’m sorry, sir.” The night doorman sounded dismayed. “They’re already on their way up. He said you were expecting them. And he had a civie badge, just like you said. He insisted.”

Bran tossed the dish rag over his shoulder. He tested the roiling pasta with a fork. 

“The kid’s a shrimp, Gar. You could’ve sat on him for three until I came down.”

“
I’m sorry, sir. You did say -”

“
I know what I said.” Bran dropped the phone back into its cradle and thoughtfully regarded the sleeping canary in her cage on the kitchen counter. “I just didn’t think he’d actually leave his little kingdom without a hero.”

The canary shifted on her perch, ruffling her feathers, but didn’t lift her head from under her wing.

Bran turned the pasta to low and poured himself a glass of the cheap red he’d found at the corner market. He took the glass with him to the front door, and yanked it open.

Aine almost fell in onto the carpet. Winter smiled, showing sharp teeth.

“How long have you been standing there?’” Bran enquired around a mouthful of drink.

“
Your doorman needs to retire,” Winter replied. “He’s got to be at least eighty and he’s not exactly spry. Or strong.”

Bran turned his back on the door, and
returned to the kitchen. “No one moves quickly at four in the morning. Gary needed a job. I got him one. He used to walk the beat, in the day.”

“
Nice place,” said Winter, following Bran. The boy considered the open floor plan, the sparse furnishings, and the candles. He dropped his messenger bag on the couch. “Holding a séance?”

“
Ambiance.”

Bran dumped the pasta into a colander and rinsed. He glanced over his shoulder at Aine. The girl looked tired. She leaned against the counter, watching the napping canary with real interest.

“Hungry?” Bran offered. “I’ve got parmesan. Steamed broccoli. And soda.”

“
Thanks,” Winter said. “I’ll take extra parmesan and a glass of wine.”

Bran retrieved three plates from the overhead cabinet. He portioned out the pasta, added broccoli, and dosed each serving with extra parmesan.

“Forks are in the bottom drawer, far left. Soda’s in the fridge. I don’t serve booze to minors.” He handed Aine a plate. “Eat.”

Winter unearthed the forks. He found two wine glasses, which he filled with water from the tap.
He handed one of the glasses to Aine. “Mind if I sit?”

Bran took a bite of pasta and shrugged. Winter wandered into the living room. He collapsed onto the couch, legs extended, plate balanced on his stomach. Aine stood in the kitchen and poked at her food.

“Does it sing?” she asked after a moment.

“
Her name is Katie. Females don’t sing. She warbles.”

“
It’s a canary,” offered Winter around a mouthful of food. “Lots of people keep them as pets, especially in the city.”

“
She was a gift from a friend.” Bran reloaded his plate. In spite of the brief interruption, the pasta was perfect.

“
You have friends?” Winter abandoned his fork. He popped a piece of broccoli into his mouth with his fingers.

Aine frowned at Winter. She set her plate o
n the counter, stood on her tiptoes to better see into the cage, and whistled.

Bran almost dropped his fork. Winter fumbled a second piece of broccoli.

The girl could whistle. Sweet, low and musical, an intricate trill that woke the canary.

The bird chirruped, and turned one bright black eye toward Aine. Aine smiled.

“We keep canaries at Court. Canaries and finches and siskins. We don’t lock them in cages.” She sounded disapproving. “They fly free where they will.”

“
Humans don’t like bird shit all over their apartments,” Winter said. “Stop teasing the canary and sit down and eat.”

Aine glowered at Winter, but she gathered her dinner and took it to the couch.

“Sometimes,” she told Bran, “the queen’s maids use them as messengers, those that can be taught to speak.”

“
What happened to bicycles in Arizona?” Bran asked, amused in spite of himself.

“
Oh.” Aine blinked. “Winter said subterfuge was no longer necessary.”

“
I said it wouldn’t be,” corrected the boy, “once I explained.” He looked pointedly from Bran to the canary. “Although maybe an explanation isn’t necessary.”

Bran arched a brow.
“Katie doesn’t sing, and she doesn’t speak. She’s a perfectly ordinary pet. But I’m sure she’d like to hear your explanation.”

He forked up the last of his dinner, smiling at Aine.
“You look a good bit steadier.”

“
Steadier?”

“
Since the last time I saw you.”

Her own smile was hesitant.
“Thank you for the clothes. These boots are a much better fit.  And Winter introduced me to his showers.”

Winter set his empty plate on the floor.
“Hostel on 11th, N.W. Strictly kosher.”

“
Paul Champion.” Bran sorted through a mental list of contacts. “He keeps a clean place. What happened to your hand?”

Aine licked a smear of blood from her thumb with feral, thoughtless grace.

“Glass.”

“
It needs a bandage. Eat,” Bran ordered. “I’ll get you one. Winter, come with me.”

“
You need help finding a Band Aid in your own apartment?”

But the kid stood and followed Bran down the hall.

“Tomorrow’s my day off,” Bran said, casually. “So was today, until my buddy downtown called me about a freak disturbance at the Southeast Branch. That’s two of your messes in less than a week I’ve had to clean up.”

“
I’d apologize, but no one died and Siobahn pays you to clean up my messes, so I don’t really see the need.”

The candlelight from the living room didn’t reach all the way down the hall to the bathroom. Bran fumbled for the light switch. White subway tile gleamed.

“Your mother pays me to keep fay business quiet,” Bran corrected. He opened the mirrored medicine cabinet over the pedestal sink, and retrieved a tube of antibiotic cream and a box of bandages. “Which is no sweat off my back, until your business starts running amok above ground and in broad daylight.”

Winter pulled the cap from his head. He stuck it into a pocket of his coat. Leaning over the sink, he peered into the mirror. He scrubbed his hands through his singed hair. His eyes, reflected back at Bran, were wide and dark and troubled.

“They haven’t come above ground before. Something’s changed. Might be the Wards.”

“
You sure that something isn’t sitting in my living room?”

“
Maybe,” Winter admitted. “Could be it’s in the hands of a madman who enjoys 18th century poets. Might be it’s something to do with both.”

“
The girl and the sword.”

“
Buairt
. The sword’s called Sorrow.”

“
Nice.” Bran flicked off the light so he didn’t have to see the boy’s face in the mirror. And so the boy couldn’t see his. “What’s Sorrow to do with me? What is it you want, Winter?”

“
You’re going to a funeral. We’re coming with.”

Bran turned on the lights in the kitchen and living room. He walked from candle to candle, snuffing wicks with his fingers while he considered. Aine leaned against the kitchen counter, the canary sitting quietly on her shoulder. Bran decided he wouldn’t remark on the empty cage.

“
It’s not the NYPD sending you to Virginia,” pursued Winter. He peeled the Band Aid and stuck it neatly to Aine’s thumb. “It’s Katherine Grey.”

“
It’s your mother sending me to Yorktown,” Bran said stiffly. “I work for your mother.”

“
Either way.” The kid shrugged. “You’re going. We’re coming.”

Irritated, Bran ran steaming water over dishes in the sink.

“Last I heard you wouldn’t leave the tunnels come hell or high water.”

“
Like I said, things have changed. Richard will keep an eye on the tunnels.”

“
It’s unlikely Smith will show his face at the funeral.”

“
It would be nice if he did,” Winter acknowledged. “But I think you’re probably right.”

Bran poured dish soap into the hot water.
“Why, then?”

“
Pigmen,” said Aine.

Bran looked at the girl. The canary nestled against her throat, a harder yellow against Aine’s golden curls.

“Pigmen?” he asked.

“
Sorrow’s scabbard,” Winter clarified. “Gloriana had it made from the skin of pigs who were men before she Turned them. Smith had the rubies, he had the sword. But as far as we can tell he doesn’t have the scabbard.”

“
So?”

Bran scrubbed his dishes, then rinsed them thoroughly. To his surprise, Winter grabbed the white linen cloth Bran kept on the counter and began to dry.

“So, his Summoning went bad.”

“
Looked that way.”

“
Take my word for it. Aine’s lucky to be alive.”

“
What makes you think Darlene Francis wasn’t just in the right place at the wrong time?”

“
You tell me,” returned Winter. “
Somebody
thinks there’s something in Yorktown or my mother wouldn’t have rented you a car and booked you a hotel for the weekend.”

Bran stacked the clean dishes on the counter. He took the wet dish rag from Winter and folded it neatly over the faucet.

“What makes you think I want you two in my backseat?”

“
You need me.” The kid crossed his arms. He slouched against the kitchen counter. “Same as usual. You do me a favor, I’ll do you one back. Everyone’s happy.”

“
Except Darlene Francis.” Bran shook his head, but the irritation was feigned. “I’m leaving bright and early. Funeral’s before two.”

“
Bright and early is about twenty minutes away. We’ll crash on your couch.”

Aine ruffled the feathers on Katie’s small head. She smiled at Bran.

“Winter says you’ll give me a knife.”

Bran slept deeply. He rolled out of bed in the grey dawn, and tossed a few things into the rucksack he used for traveling. He dressed quickly and quietly.

Katie burbled in the kitchen. Bran set his rucksack on the floor, then refilled the canary’s food and water dishes. He dumped ground beans into the coffee machine. He hit the brew button, rubbing sleep from his eyes while he waited.

“I don’t understand coffee. It’s bitter, like a tincture. But apparently a necessary part of human daily ritual. And a useless one, so far as I can tell.”

He’d known she was there, standing in the dim room, watching. He’d chosen to ignore her baleful stare.

“Insulting my species won’t make you any headway. I’m still not giving you a weapon of any sort.” The coffeemaker spat a few last drops. Gratefully, Bran filled a mug. “Besides, your friend Winter drinks this stuff by the gallon. And he’s as non-human as they come.”

Winter was stretched out on the floor at the foot of the couch. He’d crumpled up his coat as a
pillow. Bran knew better than to assume the kid was actually asleep.

“
I won’t be helpless.” Aine clenched and unclenched her fists at her side. Her short curls were mussed with sleep, her delicate features flushed.

“
You’re not helpless,” said Bran. He took a sip of coffee and sighed in pleasure. “Seems like you’ve already beat off two ghouls with pretty much your bare hands. Not to mention you somehow managed to evade a man with a magical sword.”

“
Ádh
,” corrected Aine. “It means luck. I’ve had good luck. And I’m not willing to keep trying it without a knife in my fist. It’s likely to turn.”

“
You’re likely to stab yourself in your own foot unless you’ve weapons training.”

“
Training? I’ve skinned enough fish and swine in my life to put any butcher to shame.” She accepted the small splash of coffee he poured for her, and sniffed at it. “It has a pleasant scent, I’ll allow that.”

“
You’ll get used to the taste.”