opened them again the Glamour had vanished, and she held Angus’ knotted pouch.
“My son thinks he’s clever and amusing,” the Queen said, “but the truth of the matter is his trickery aids you not at all. No one seeking these particular rubies would have been deaf to their call. Even muffled by my father’s mark, the stones scream of betrayal.”
6 . Libraries
Aine sat on a pile of books. She stared at the map tacked to the library wall, trying to make sense of the underground passages.
At first glance the tunnels appeared to be laid out quite logically. The larger passages tended to run like spokes in a wheel, each black line extending from the same central spot in the center of the knot. The spokes were linked by ‘stations’: the rank, cold shelters where humankind stood in disjointed crowds, waiting to board the train of their choosing. The stations were marked with simple, heavily inked X’s.
Red foil stars glittered in loose clusters around almost every black X: forty-seven tiny red brilliants. Aine had counted them three times to be sure.
There weren’t any abandoned bowls of candy waiting in the room when Aine had grown weary of trying to sleep, and found her way to the library. She nibbled on a fingernail instead.
The more she studied the map, the less sense it made. Logic was lost in a nest of shorter branches, some of which appeared to dead end. Or mayhap the cartographer hadn't followed the tunnels to completion.
What were the chances, Aine wondered, that somewhere in the tangle a single unexplored passageway led up out of the ground beneath an icy lake?
“Have you heard of the Lough Gur ?” she asked around her fingernail.
She’d found Winter in the library when she’d given up sleep. The flickering of h is lamps had led her past half-pulled tapestries and through empty rooms.
She’d found him sitting on a cushion, made lovely by the shifting lantern light, apparently lost in the pages of a large and dusty tome.
He’d grunted, but not looked up, so Aine borrowed one of his lanterns and took it to the map.
“ Gair’s lake?” He translated without glancing from the book. “Not particularly. Siobahn had a young cousin, Daniel Gair. I believe he was killed by dysentery in the early 1900s.”
“ Lough Gur ,” Aine said pointedly, “is far more than a loch. It’s one of the dark places between, a dangerous place where our folk might cross into mortal lands and back again, and where time is terribly muddled.” She shuddered.
Winter closed a finger in his book. He regarded Aine thoughtfully, grey eyes sparking in the lantern light. It was hard to tell in the shadows, but she thought the side of his face looked less inflamed. Even scarred he was beautiful in the flickering light, more beautiful than any of the young fay who regularly swarmed about Gloriana.
Aine thought more than a part of his beauty was that he was so very different than the boys she had known at Court. Gloriana’s suitors were skilled at song and wordplay, quick with the sword and insult, eager to dabble in intrigue and insinuation. They were like lazy forest cats, wiling away the long hours until the sun went down and it was time for the hunt.
“A Way between, you mean.” Winter asked, “Are you going to tell me Smith dropped you in a lake and you surfaced beneath Chinatown? Although I suppose that might explain the lack of clothes. Perhaps you and dear Michael were skinny dipping?”
“ No! I mean, I don’t think so.” If she poked too hard at the gap in her memory it made her head hurt. She chewed her thumbnail. “ Lough Gur isn’t the sort of place one visits willingly. It’s quite a long way from Court, east of Gairdin Mhuire . The Gardens are treacherous enough in themselves. I’d have no reason to journey so far from Court. In fact, I’m forbidden to leave the Queen’s Progress.”
Winter grunted. “More to the point, Gloriana closed all of the old Ways five
“My son thinks he’s clever and amusing,” the Queen said, “but the truth of the matter is his trickery aids you not at all. No one seeking these particular rubies would have been deaf to their call. Even muffled by my father’s mark, the stones scream of betrayal.”
6 . Libraries
Aine sat on a pile of books. She stared at the map tacked to the library wall, trying to make sense of the underground passages.
At first glance the tunnels appeared to be laid out quite logically. The larger passages tended to run like spokes in a wheel, each black line extending from the same central spot in the center of the knot. The spokes were linked by ‘stations’: the rank, cold shelters where humankind stood in disjointed crowds, waiting to board the train of their choosing. The stations were marked with simple, heavily inked X’s.
Red foil stars glittered in loose clusters around almost every black X: forty-seven tiny red brilliants. Aine had counted them three times to be sure.
There weren’t any abandoned bowls of candy waiting in the room when Aine had grown weary of trying to sleep, and found her way to the library. She nibbled on a fingernail instead.
The more she studied the map, the less sense it made. Logic was lost in a nest of shorter branches, some of which appeared to dead end. Or mayhap the cartographer hadn't followed the tunnels to completion.
What were the chances, Aine wondered, that somewhere in the tangle a single unexplored passageway led up out of the ground beneath an icy lake?
“Have you heard of the Lough Gur ?” she asked around her fingernail.
She’d found Winter in the library when she’d given up sleep. The flickering of h is lamps had led her past half-pulled tapestries and through empty rooms.
She’d found him sitting on a cushion, made lovely by the shifting lantern light, apparently lost in the pages of a large and dusty tome.
He’d grunted, but not looked up, so Aine borrowed one of his lanterns and took it to the map.
“ Gair’s lake?” He translated without glancing from the book. “Not particularly. Siobahn had a young cousin, Daniel Gair. I believe he was killed by dysentery in the early 1900s.”
“ Lough Gur ,” Aine said pointedly, “is far more than a loch. It’s one of the dark places between, a dangerous place where our folk might cross into mortal lands and back again, and where time is terribly muddled.” She shuddered.
Winter closed a finger in his book. He regarded Aine thoughtfully, grey eyes sparking in the lantern light. It was hard to tell in the shadows, but she thought the side of his face looked less inflamed. Even scarred he was beautiful in the flickering light, more beautiful than any of the young fay who regularly swarmed about Gloriana.
Aine thought more than a part of his beauty was that he was so very different than the boys she had known at Court. Gloriana’s suitors were skilled at song and wordplay, quick with the sword and insult, eager to dabble in intrigue and insinuation. They were like lazy forest cats, wiling away the long hours until the sun went down and it was time for the hunt.
“A Way between, you mean.” Winter asked, “Are you going to tell me Smith dropped you in a lake and you surfaced beneath Chinatown? Although I suppose that might explain the lack of clothes. Perhaps you and dear Michael were skinny dipping?”
“ No! I mean, I don’t think so.” If she poked too hard at the gap in her memory it made her head hurt. She chewed her thumbnail. “ Lough Gur isn’t the sort of place one visits willingly. It’s quite a long way from Court, east of Gairdin Mhuire . The Gardens are treacherous enough in themselves. I’d have no reason to journey so far from Court. In fact, I’m forbidden to leave the Queen’s Progress.”
Winter grunted. “More to the point, Gloriana closed all of the old Ways five
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