Page 2 of Silver and Lead (October Daye #19)

“Yeah, but your husband is still my uncle, and that makes him the boss of me until he fully steps down,” said Raj. “Can I get you anything?”

“I am going to the kitchen,” I snarled, pushing past him.

One small advantage to the way everyone was treating me: he couldn’t stop me without touching me, and so he let me pass, following me to the kitchen.

It wasn’t far—just the other side of the hall. I tried to pretend I wasn’t annoyed at how close Raj was on my heels as I stepped into the room, which was warm and smelled like fresh baked goods.

May, my live-in death omen and, more importantly, my sister, looked up from the tray of scones she was pulling out of the oven, flashing me a quick smile.

As a Fetch, she had all my memories up to the moment of her creation, including my first pregnancy.

She knew, more intimately than anyone else, that the more time I spent sitting around watching dust settle on the walls, the more convinced my entire body became that this was a trap and we were about to be eaten by something large and full of far too many teeth.

Unfortunately for me, the thing with far too many teeth was plural.

Tybalt had plenty on his own, and my maternal aunt, the literal sea witch, had a seemingly infinite number of teeth, which she could summon at will.

Both of them were highly invested in me staying safe, indoors, and bored out of my mind.

I had made the choice to go along with their overprotectiveness rather than doing more damage than had already been done. I still felt pretty damn ganged up on. May straightened, removing her oven mitts, and said, “Hey, Toby. Can I get you anything?”

“My car keys and a fast route to anywhere but here?” I offered, not remotely joking.

My squire, Quentin, who had apparently been on baking duty with her, frowned at me. “Are you really sure you should be leaving the house right now?”

I started to reply, then caught myself and counted to three, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth.

Titania’s spell had turned Quentin into the worst version of himself, and he was still haunted by the memory of who he had been capable of becoming.

He had developed a tendency to take any argument as a criticism of who he was as a person, which wasn’t fair on either side.

Normally I would have reminded him that I am a whole-ass adult, and that means I can go where I please, whether it be down to the grocery store for milk or out to Half Moon Bay to visit my semi-estranged daughter.

And to be fair, normally my family wouldn’t be doing this.

We were all still bruised and recovering, and it wasn’t entirely their fault that their trying to take care of me was driving me out of my mind.

I managed to scrape up a smile for Quentin.

It must not have been too terrifying, because he hesitantly answered it with a smile of his own.

“I’m still a person, not an incubator, and I can go for a little drive if I want to,” I said, in the sweetest tone I could muster. “I’m not due for another two weeks.”

“My mom said—”

“Your mother doesn’t heal the way I do,” I said, before he could go any further. “I’m in perfect health. A little worried about my pants splitting, but that’s fine. I can buy new pants. What I can’t buy is a new brain if I break this one by staying inside for very much longer.”

“Come on, Toby, you promised Tybalt you wouldn’t attempt a jailbreak while he’s at the Court of Cats,” said May.

“I feel like someone promised that on my behalf. I don’t feel like I made that promise.”

“Come on, Toby,” said Quentin, plaintively. “Just stay home. Please? Like you said, you’re due in two weeks. We’re almost at the finish line.”

“Pregnancy is neither a race nor an excuse for house arrest,” I said. “I am going to start climbing the walls soon. Possibly literally. Do you want me to climb the walls? I could fall and hurt myself. Much safer to give me back my car keys and let me go on my way.”

“Uncle Tybalt will kill us if we let you go,” protested Raj.

“I may kill you if you keep me here,” I replied.

The doorbell saved him from needing to reply.

I turned as quickly as my current condition would allow, taking advantage of my size to block the entire doorway as I got myself oriented and then waddled toward the front door, bound and determined to get there before any of my self-appointed protectors could beat me to the punch.

They didn’t try that hard to stop me, possibly out of the fear that they’d have to put their hands on me to do it, possibly out of self-preservation: none of the people I liked to surround myself with were fools, and they could all see just how close to the end of my rope I really was.

I wrenched the door open, and the teenage girl standing on the porch shot me a sly smile, clearly amused all out of proportion with everything that was happening around her.

“You wanna buy some Girl Scout cookies?” she asked.

“Okay, one, it’s not Girl Scout cookie season,” I said. “Even if it were, they have an age cutoff, and you’d never qualify. Two, if you were selling cookies, you’d have a backpack or a little red wagon or something, and you’re empty-handed.” I sighed, then smiled. “Hello, Luidaeg. What’s new?”

Her smile winked out like a candle being snuffed. “A little overfamiliar, don’t you think?”

“You just tried to sell me out-of-season cookies. I can be familiar if I want.”

She snorted. “Guess that’s so. You going to ask me in?”

“Do I have to?” My wards were good, but not that good. Then again, I’m not sure anyone in Faerie can cast wards solid enough to keep out one of the Firstborn.

“Have to, no. I can come in whenever I want. But it’s polite, and the longer you make me stand out here on the porch, the more likely it is your neighbors decide you’ve kicked out one of your resident teenagers.

” She looked at me, eyes suddenly wide and filled with tears, lip wobbling.

“Do you not love us anymore, Auntie Toby?”

“You’re my aunt, not the other way around, and random house calls don’t require civility on my part, but sure, Luidaeg, come on in.”

“Great.” She grinned, displaying too many teeth for the shape of her jaw, and walked easily inside. “I appreciate the hospitality. Do I smell scones?”

“Yes, you do, and I do have manners when it’s important. What’s going on?”

She sobered, looking me up and down. I held my tongue, waiting for her to finish.

The Luidaeg, also known as Antigone of Albany, is the oldest person I really know.

She’s the eldest of the Firstborn, first daughter of Oberon himself, and better known as “the sea witch” in most circles.

I grew up thinking of her as an untouchable water demon, and while the truth is a lot more complicated, she’s still scary when she wants to be, and I try not to upset her if I have any choice in the matter.

“Can’t I visit my favorite niece?” she asked finally, looking back at my face.

“You can, but you generally don’t, ” I said. “Did you need something right now?”

“I always need something,” she said. “Right now, I need one of those scones.”

There are a lot of things to be said for the way I take care of the various teenagers who swarm around my house like pixies around a leaking Slurpee machine.

Many of those things are bad ones. But probably my worst crime is that after a few months with me, none of them have any remaining fear of the Luidaeg.

In short order, she was settled at the kitchen table with a plate of scones and a mug of some sort of sharp-smelling herbal tea, while Quentin and Raj sat across from her, both of them beaming like it was suddenly Christmas morning and she was there to deliver all their gifts.

I leaned against the counter next to May, watching them.

“Boys seem happy,” she observed.

“They like the Luidaeg,” I said.

“Think we should call Raysel down?”

Raysel—my liege’s daughter—wasn’t technically a teenager, although she had more in common with them than with any of the resident adults, and she wasn’t nearly as comfortable with the Luidaeg as the rest of the kids.

She’d get there, she just needed… time, and understanding, and to be allowed to come around to things at her own pace.

“Probably not the best plan,” I said.

“Fair enough,” agreed May. “Any idea why she’s here?”

“For scones, apparently.” There was definitely something else going on, but for the moment, scones were keeping her occupied, and I was willing to let her stay distracted as long as she wanted to. When the Luidaeg appears, things tend to get complicated, fast.

I was bored, but was I “the Luidaeg has a problem for me” levels of bored?

And even if I was, would Tybalt let me do anything about it?

I rubbed my stomach with one hand, almost automatically, as if reminding myself why I’d been on such a tight leash for the past four months.

Sometimes the thought of a baby at the end of all this difficulty made things better.

Not this time. I sighed, and the Luidaeg looked around at me, eyes slightly narrowed as she took me in.

“Cargo’s almost ready to be dropped off, isn’t it?” she asked.

“It is, and please don’t tell me that one of the bargains I made with you secretly involved my baby,” I said. “I really don’t think I could handle that right now.”

“I don’t trade in children if there’s any evading it,” said the Luidaeg.

“No matter what some of my stepmother’s descendants will try to say, I’ve never taken in a foundling who had somewhere else to safely go, and I’ve never based a price on the life of a child.

I know you were joking, but please. No jokes about that. ”

“… sorry,” I said.

“It’s cool,” she replied. “Can I have another scone?”

“Sure,” said May.