“You’re concerning yourself with the inner lives of bugs.” Tybalt took my arm, walking toward the nearest wall. “Now I know you require a cup of coffee. Possibly a pot, if we can find a straw capable of handling the heat. Your squire can wait a little longer for your return.”

“I’d argue if you weren’t doing what I wanted you to do.” I paused. “Wait a second. I just thought of something.” I whirled, pulling my arm free as I darted back to the door.

The Luidaeg opened it the second my foot hit the step, leaving me with one hand raised to knock. Our relative positions made it look like I was getting ready to punch her in the face. I froze. She gave my fist an interested look before asking, “Do I need to give that whole ‘sound of the waves running over your bones’ speech again? Because seriously, I can only do fucking terrifying once a day before I get bored and want to go do a crossword puzzle or something.”

“Um. Sorry.” I dropped my hand. “The fireflies. Can they survive on the Shadow Roads? That’s how Tybalt and I got here.”

“Uh-huh.” She held up a finger. “They’re magic bugs.” She added a second finger. “I caught them in Annwn. Winters in Annwn get colder than a Banshee’s tit. I wouldn’t worry about them. Just don’t drop the flask while you’re in there, or you’ll never get them back.”

“What would happen if I let one of them go in there?” The various fae Roads stretched through the empty spaces of the world, at least insofar as I understood them—which admittedly, wasn’t that well. But Tybalt and I had been able to use one of Luna’s Rose Roads to search for someone marooned in another realm of Faerie. If we were trying to find someone hiding in the mortal world, the Shadow Roads should be able to serve the same purpose.

The Luidaeg looked surprised. She blinked, the edges of her irises doing something so odd and reptilian that my brain refused to deal with it, choosing to shunt it to the side where I wouldn’t need to think about it. Then she said, thoughtfully, “You know, that might work. Or it could lose you a firefly before you even have a plan of attack.”

“I’ve gambled more for less,” I said. “It’s worth a try.”

“Important things always are. Don’t die,” she said, and shut the door in my face.

I turned back to Tybalt, who was watching me with undisguised bemusement. I held up the flask of fireflies. “I think I know what we try first.”

“What, pray tell, is that?”

“Dowsing.”

The flask’s cap was screwed on tight, and gave way only after I strained hard enough to bite my tongue. Finally, the cap slipped, and I was able to remove it. The fireflies ignored their sudden chance for freedom, choosing to keep buzzing happily around their artificial home. “Um, would one of you like to help me?” I asked, sticking a finger through the narrow opening. Requesting help from a bunch of bugs made me feel faintly ridiculous.

A bunch of magic bugs. Most of the fireflies continued to ignore me, but one landed lightly on my finger, glowing momentarily brighter. I pulled my hand out of the jar, holding it against the collar of my jacket. “Just, uh, hang out there for right now, okay?”

The firefly obligingly crawled off of my hand and settled on the leather. I couldn’t see it directly, but I could see the glow it cast reflected off my hair, making it look like I was wearing a small flashlight clipped to my shoulder. I put the cap back on the flask, screwing it tight—although not quite as tight—before tucking it back into my pocket. Then I looked up at Tybalt. “Okay,” I said. “Now we can go and get me that coffee.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Were you planning to tell me the precise nature of your plan, or am I doomed to guessing games for the duration of our relationship?”

“These fireflies respond to the Luidaeg’s magic. The Shadow Roads compress distance. I figure if I let this little guy go while we’re on the Road,” I indicated the firefly, “it’ll head for the nearest patch of her magic it can find. All we need to do is make sure we don’t lose sight of it, and we can at least come out in the same neighborhood, if not actually in Arden’s location.”

“That is . . .” Tybalt stopped, an odd look crossing his face. Finally, he said, “That is so nonsensical that I believe it stands an excellent chance of working.”

I grinned. “That’s why you love me.”

“Among many other reasons.” He moved forward with the lithe, inhuman speed that was the birthright of the Cait Sidhe, slinging an arm around my waist before I had a chance to react. Then, without any further comment, he leaned in and kissed me, sweet and slow and tasting of pennyroyal. The heat of his lips chased away all concern for the chill of the Shadow Roads—and as always, the feeling of his hip pressed against mine made me want to forget about everything else and request a trip back to the house for an hour or so of well-earned relaxation.

Sadly, this wasn’t the time. He knew it as well as I did, because he pulled away just as the kiss was on the verge of deepening into something more. My ears were burning, and his pupils were extended to their fullest size—

Shit. “We’re getting too comfortable in places like this,” I said, raising my hand to my lips and wiping the taste of pennyroyal onto my fingers before dragging them through the air, filling them with shadows. “No guarantee the firefly comes out in the Summerlands. Suit up.”

Tybalt blinked. Then he swore and set about weaving his own human disguise. For a few seconds, the air around us was a perfumer’s nightmare of mixed scents, copper and musk, pennyroyal and fresh-cut grass. Then the magic dissipated, and two apparent humans stood where two obvious non-humans had been only a moment before.

“Better,” I said, glancing down. The firefly on my collar was still visible. It had been enchanted by the Luidaeg. I would just have to trust her enchantments extended to making them difficult for humans to recognize as unusual. Bugs are easier to explain than pointy-eared people with inhuman eyes, anyway. I lifted my head. “Ready when you are.”

“Finally,” Tybalt said, a rolling chuckle underneath the word. Then he took my hand and pulled me into the darkness of the Shadow Roads.

The Shadow Roads are always going to be a mystery to me, since I’m not Cait Sidhe, and it’s not like I can stop and examine them while we’re running through the dark, trying to outpace the limits of our lungs. This much I know: that the darkness there is so absolute that even Cait Sidhe can’t see for more than a few feet in any direction—enough to navigate, but not enough to let them know what might be surrounding them. That when we run there, we seem to be surrounded by absolute nothingness, but there’s ground beneath our feet, and we never run in a straight line. That it’s cold, and airless, and if it weren’t for Tybalt, I would die there.