“Yeah, well.” I glared at him. It didn’t help. I’d never felt so betrayed. Not by Devin, not by Amandine, not by anyone. Sylvester was the father I’d never been allowed to have. He was the one man who wasn’t supposed to lie to me. “That’s Amandine for you. Always taking the long way around.”

“She came when you needed her,” said May. “Doesn’t that count for something? She loves you.” Her tone was wistful. She had my memories; she remembered being Amandine’s daughter, but she was still a Fetch. She’d never had a mother.

My mother loved me. It was an interesting notion, and almost enough to take my mind off what she’d done. It was nowhere near enough to blunt the sting of what Sylvester had done. “Did she say anything else?” I asked.

“She said beware the Lady of the Lake, because she’s never forgiven you your story, but to be more afraid by far of Morgane,” said Connor. I gave him a quizzical look. He shrugged. “I don’t know what that means. Amandine’s a little weird, even when she’s being sane. Are you really not Daoine Sidhe?”

“Guess not.” I raked my hair back again, wincing as my hand hit my ear. This was going to take some getting used to.

May’s sudden smile was vibrant enough to make me feel selfish for my panic. “I’m not your Fetch anymore, and I’m still here.”

I matched her smile with a more subdued smile of my own. “I’m so glad.”

Connor cleared his throat. “Now can you stop dying on us?”

“I’ll do my best. No promises.” I glanced at Sylvester. “I’m not done being angry with you, but this isn’t the time. Did May tell you what we found?”

“I got a little distracted, boss,” May said, sounding sheepish.

Sylvester looked between us. “What’s going on?”

“We were here because we had some ideas about what happened to Luna,” I said. “We were at the bottom of the hill when Oleander called to taunt me.”

“May told us that much,” he said, nodding. “But Luna?”

“She wasn’t poisoned; that’s why Jin can’t find anything wrong with her. It’s the roses that are sick. Someone’s been salting the earth around them.”

Sylvester’s eyes narrowed. “And as the roses die . . . ”

“So does she. Have you noticed the rose goblins acting strangely?”

“I haven’t noticed much,” he admitted, glancing at the goblins clustered around his feet. “I’ve been a little preoccupied.”

“I have,” said Connor. “They got sick the same time Luna did. Some of the smaller ones have died. I thought it was because she was sick.”

“So did I, but we were coming at things from the wrong direction. If we cure the roses, we cure her. Walther cured the goblins by turning the salt in their blood into gypsum. He may be able to help with the soil, once he’s had a little more time.”

“I see,” said Sylvester. His smile was less vibrant than May’s, but just as alive, and twice as relieved. I felt a pang of guilt over taking time to panic before getting down to business; they needed me to be sane, and I hadn’t been doing it.

Then again, I just came back from the dead, and learned that the one person I’d trusted more than anyone had been lying to me for my entire life. Maybe I needed to cut myself a little slack. “We can save her,” I said.

“I hope so,” said Sylvester. “And—”

I never learned what he was going to say next. The gate connecting the Ducal chambers to the rest of the knowe banged open, and Dugan strode into the garden at the head of a troop of guards in the Queen’s colors. Raysel and Manuel were right behind. Raysel looked gleeful; Manuel looked smug. Neither expression was very comforting.

May whirled to face her, eyes wide and angry. Sylvester’s turn was slower, and more dangerous; there was a cold fury in the way he was holding himself, and I knew that his fuse wouldn’t burn for long.

Dugan focused on May, ignoring me completely. “October Daye, you have been charged—”

Oh, oak and ash. I looked like a stranger to anyone who wasn’t there when Amandine shifted the balance of my blood, while May looked like, well, me. I moved to put myself between her and the guards, ignoring Connor’s attempt to grab my wrist and stop me. “I think you’ve got the wrong girl,” I said, projecting as much false bravado as I could manage. “Unless you came here to harass my Fetch?”

Dugan hesitated. “October Daye?”

“The same.”

He hesitated a moment more. Then, slowly, he smiled. “October Daye, you have been charged with the murder of the Undine known as Lily, and the attempted murder of Luna Torquill, Duchess of Shadowed Hills. You are under arrest by direct order of the Queen of the Mists. I suggest you come quietly.”

“This is madness!” snapped Sylvester. “Sir Daye has been injured. I won’t allow—”

“Don’t.” I put my hand on his arm. “It won’t do any good. You know what to do. Call Walther—May knows where he is—and he’ll help you.”

“Are you quite done?” Raysel asked. “You’re being arrested, not taking a tour.”

I looked at her coldly. “Raysel, you told me yourself that your father wasn’t my liege anymore. I don’t have to obey his wishes, spoken or unspoken, and so I can finally say this: go drown yourself, you self-righteous little bitch.”

She stared at me, cheeks reddening, before turning on her heels and storming out of the room. Manuel gave me a venomous look and followed.

I turned back to Dugan. “Well? Weren’t you going to arrest me now?”

He motioned two of the guards forward. One grabbed my hands and yanked them behind me. The other snapped iron manacles around my wrists, making my skin crawl. “This isn’t necessary,” I said. “I’m not fighting you.”

“For once in your life, be silent,” said Dugan, with no real rancor in his tone.

I looked at him blandly, trying to pretend the iron wasn’t already starting to burn. The second guard removed my knives from around my waist. “What’s your full name?”

“Dugan Harrow of Deep Mists,” he said. The answer was automatic; like it or not, changeling or not, I outranked him. Eyes narrowing, he asked, “Why?”