“What if I choose the road I took last time? Does that mean I’ll live?”

“Maybe. Nothing’s certain.” She looked away. “This has only happened a few times.”

“Great. Even my hallucinations aren’t normal.” I shook my head. “Go away. I’m not choosing anything.”

“October—”

“I’m not!” I pressed my hands over my ears. “I’m dying. You can’t change it, you can’t stop it, and you’re nothing but a bad dream! Now go away!”

“Toby?” This voice was different.

I lifted my head, uncovering my ears. The dreamlike twisting of the room was gone. I was back in the bed; the lights were on, and most importantly of all, my father was standing in the doorway, one hand still on the light switch.

“Bad dream, baby?” he asked.

For a moment, it felt like I’d forgotten how to breathe. Swallowing, I managed to whisper, “Daddy?”

My mother didn’t bring any pictures of my father when we left the mortal world, and I was too young to understand how much I’d want them someday. I didn’t take my teddy bear, much less the family photo album. No one told me I’d never see my father again; I wouldn’t have believed them if they had.

I barely remembered what he looked like until I had him standing right in front of me. He was tall, with broad shoulders, a thick waist, and pale Irish skin speckled with a lifetime of freckles. I got my rotten knees from his side of the family, even though I didn’t inherit his height or bright blue eyes. I always looked like a changeling next to him, even before I knew how true that really was.

“Yeah, baby, it’s me,” he said, smiling as he walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. He smiled at me. I found the strength to smile back. I had my father’s smile. Mother never told me that. Mother never told me a lot of things. “Can’t sleep?”

“Not really.” I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Maybe I was hallucinating while the elf-shot shut my body down, but I hadn’t seen my father in a long time. I wanted to look at him as much as I could. “I’m sorry I yelled.”

“It’s all right. I was up.” Daddy was a tax attorney. He brought a lot of work home during the week and worked on it after I’d gone to bed, leaving his weekends and afternoons free. I never forgot that, even though I’d forgotten the way the skin around his eyes crinkled when he smiled. “Just don’t wake your mother.”

“I won’t,” I said earnestly. Amandine went away when I told her to; I didn’t want her coming back.

He ruffled my hair, asking, “Everything okay in there?”

“Sort of. Daddy?”

“Yes?”

“Is it wrong to walk away from a choice you’re supposed to make? If you’re supposed to pick something, is it bad not to pick anything at all?”

“I guess it depends on what you’re choosing,” he said, with his usual careful deliberation. “If you were deciding whether to take your teddy bear to bed with you, I guess you could take a different dolly and never make up your mind about the bear. But if you were deciding whether you’d do something that needs doing—like cleaning your room—I guess it would be bad to never decide.”

“What if it was something more important than cleaning your room?”

“How much more important?”

“As important as going away or not going away.”

He stiffened before nodding, saying, “With something like that, it would be bad not to choose. You planning on running away from home?”

“No. But if I had to decide whether to stay or go, wouldn’t it be better to just not decide? To stay without choosing?”

“Not really.” He reached out again, putting his hand over mine. “You have to decide what matters to you, baby, and follow that decision. I’d be sad if you left, but I know you’d only do it for something that mattered so much you felt you had to.”

Oh, Daddy, I thought, you were more than sad when I left. “So you want me to choose?”

“You have to make your own choices in life. If you don’t, what’s the point?”

“You’re right.” I managed to smile again, blinking back tears. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, baby.” He leaned over and kissed my forehead before standing and walking to the door. “Get some sleep, and think about it, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy.”

“Good night, Toby.” He turned off the light, closing the door as he left.

I wasn’t afraid of the dark when I was a kid, but for a moment, I wished my childhood room had come with the usual night-light. It would’ve been nice if those shadows had been just a little shallower as I climbed out of the bed and walked to the window. The Cheshire cat moon grinned down on me like a beacon.

I fumbled with the latch until it came loose, and then pushed the window open, leaning out on my elbows until my face was in the wind. “I don’t want to do this again,” I said. “It’s not right, and it’s not fair, and I don’t want to. You shouldn’t be allowed to make me do this again.”

The moon didn’t answer. I didn’t expect it to. “I’m a hero. That’s what Faerie made me, and I think my father would be proud. I don’t want to make this choice again, because there’s no right choice for me. But there is a choice that’s right for the people who count on me to be there when they need me.”

“Does that mean you’re going to decide?” Amandine asked, behind me.

“I don’t think ‘none of the above’ is an option.”

“No, it isn’t,” she said. “What do you want? What’s your choice?”

“I choose the evil I know.” I turned to face her. “I can’t be a hero with no one to save, and I can’t run out on them just because I’m scared. I already walked away from this world once. I don’t get to go back.”

“So you choose Faerie?” she asked. The blood-androses smell of her magic was rising around us. This was my last chance to back out. But what would I be backing out on? You can’t rewind reality. Choosing to stay human wouldn’t change history; it wouldn’t unmake anything I’d ever done, or seen, or been, and I wouldn’t want it to. Faerie may not always have been the kindest place to live, but it was still my home. I owed it to Gillian, to May, to Dare, and Tybalt and January and all the others not to say that my life had been a mistake. Not when it had been so intertwined with theirs.