Page 21 of The Brightest Fell

A hand grabbed my arm and yanked. I glanced to the side. Raj was standing there, eyes narrowed, looking like he was about to start biting people. It would have hurt, too. He was currently sporting the kind of dentition a tiger would envy, and when he spoke, it was with a faint lisp, words distorted by the size of his teeth.

“Make them stop talking and start finding,” he snarled. “My uncle is missing.”

“I am the last person in the world who is going to forget that, believe me,” I said, voice low. “I’m letting Simon get his bearings back. If we rush this, he might refuse to help.”

“Excuse me?” The voice was Simon’s. I turned. He was looking at me, a small frown on his face. “I’m right here. I can hear you both, and as my brother seems intent on being the least pleasant conversationalist in the room—and that includes you, Sir Etienne, don’t think I can’t see the way you’re looking at me, like you’d enjoy nothing more than the chance to crop my ears—I’m inclined to listen. What’s going on?”

“I was thinking more of gelding you,” muttered Etienne.

I took a deep breath, ignoring him. Ignoring everyone except for Simon, because he was the one I needed to convince. “Mom came to see me,” I said.

Simon’s eyes lit up. “Amandine is here? My Amandine?”

He sounded . . . younger, or less tarnished, at least, when he said my mother’s name. There was a light in his eyes that I’d only seen in memories of him, like he suddenly believed the world was a kinder place.

“No,” I said, and watched that light go out again. “She didn’t come to Shadowed Hills: she came to my house. You remember, the house where you attacked my friend?”

Simon grimaced, looking abashed. “I am sorry about that. I needed to make my exit without being delayed, and I knew you would be able to care for her. Is she well?”

“Care for her how, by putting her in a bucket?” demanded May, shoving her way forward. I remembered belatedly that the memories she’d taken from me when she was “born” included my transformation—our transformation, since we both remembered it like we were there—and abandonment. What Simon had tried to do to Jazz was even more personal for May than it was for me. “You tried to turn her into a fish, you sick asshole!”

“It’s a spell I’ve woven enough times that I don’t have to prepare it,” he said, not flinching away from May’s rage. Maybe he wasn’t afraid of her. Or maybe he thought he’d earned it. “I said I was sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t good enough,” she said, and burst into tears.

Oh, this was going well. I put my arm around her, pulling her against me, and said, “Simon, Mom has asked me to find August, and she’s taken our loved ones as collateral against her request. Please, will you help me?”

Simon sighed heavily. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he said.

SEVEN

FOR A MOMENT, everyone froze. It felt like the room was holding its breath. Just as quickly, the moment passed, and I had my hands full keeping May from lunging for Simon’s throat, while Quentin fought a similar battle with Raj. If the Prince of Cats transformed into his feline form, he could escape my squire, but he seemed to be too angry to think of that: he twisted and spat, held back by a solid arm-lock and Quentin’s greater mass.

Simon put a hand over his eyes. “Oh, sweet Titania. I apologize. I was not intending to say it was time for Amy to kidnap your friends. I can see why you would take insult at the insinuation.”

“If you’d ever learned to watch your words, you would spend less time apologizing,” said Sylvester.

“If you had ever learned to say anything of relevance, you would spend less time swinging a sword at people like it was a substitute for intelligent conversation,” said Simon. It sounded automatic, almost, like he’d been insulting his brother for so long that he no longer knew how not to.

“Can everyone please stop taking swings at each other for a second, and listen to me?” I demanded. May wasn’t fighting anymore. I let her go, trusting her not to lunge at Simon. “Amandine has taken the local King of Cats and a representative of the local Raven-may flock captive. She’s forced them to transform into their animal forms, and she’s said she won’t give them back until I find August and bring her home. I need help. I need someone who knows August. I need you.”

Simon actually looked surprised. “That’s why you woke me—because you want me to help you? After everything I’ve done? What’s to stop me knocking you out and running away?”

“Try it,” suggested Sylvester, almost sweetly.

“Ah,” said Simon. “You’ve laid a geas on me. Clever thinking, brother, although I didn’t think you knew how.”

“I had the same training you did.”

“In the beginning, yes, but you never focused on your magic. Too busy playing knight in shining armor. What are my limitations?”

“You cannot raise a hand against October, nor a blade, nor your magic,” said Sylvester. “If you try—”

“I get the picture,” said Simon. “Why only her?”

“The family connection,” said Sylvester stiffly.

“And your blood magic has never been what it should have been, because you refuse to practice,” said Simon. “Why not bind me to help her?”