January had been Sylvester’s niece before she was Li Qin’s wife. Trusting that this meant I didn’t need to explain the whole tangled history of the Torquills to her, I said, “Simon’s back.”

Li Qin gasped, all signs of bleariness vanishing from her voice. “What? Where? Is Sylvester all right? Do you need me?”

“No, although it would probably be best if you could check in on April. I’m not sure Simon knows about her, and I’d like to keep it that way.” The backseat was clear. I got into the car. Tybalt and Quentin did the same, both of them watching me curiously. “Look, it’s a long story, and I don’t think this is the time to try explaining it, but I really need access to the Library right now. The Luidaeg can’t help us, and I need answers.”

“Right—of course. I’ll wake Mags up. I’m sure she’ll be fine with you coming over again. She liked you well enough last time you went to visit, and you didn’t burn the Library down, which she appreciates.” Li Qin hesitated before offering, “I can twist your luck . . .”

“I don’t know if I’m ready to go that far just yet. I’ll let you know.” Every type of fae has its own gifts. Li Qin could manipulate probability, allowing her to arrange for great coincidences. The trouble was, the scales had to be balanced. The last time I’d allowed her to bend my luck, I had wound up disemboweled. Twice. That didn’t mean I wouldn’t take the help if it came down to it. It just meant that I had no desire to become reacquainted with my liver.

“Okay. Just . . . be careful, all right? Simon is a very complicated man.”

“He turned me into a fish once.”

“Yes. Complicated. The Library is still in the same general area, I believe; is Quentin with you?”

I glanced over my shoulder. “He’s here.”

“I’ll text him with directions. You shouldn’t text and drive.”

I rolled my eyes as I twisted back into my original position. “Okay, wow. Way to slide in a ‘safe driving’ PSA when I’m about to risk my life doing stupid shit.”

“There are some stupid things you don’t have to do,” said Li Qin primly. “Open roads.”

“Kind fires,” I said automatically. Hanging up my phone, I tucked it back into my pocket before starting the engine. “Li Qin’s going to check in with Mags and then text Quentin with the current location of the Library.” Mags was the current Librarian. She could grant and deny access. Even Arden didn’t have that power.

“Much as I enjoy the dizzying whirl of your utter lack of planning, might you explain why we’re going to the Library of Stars?” asked Tybalt. He didn’t sound annoyed; just baffled, like he was sure there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for my behavior that he simply hadn’t figured out yet.

“There can’t be that many people I know who are powerful enough to bind the Luidaeg and were here when Luna and Rayseline disappeared. There are even fewer who would scare her like that,” I said, driving slowly as I moved through the fog. “If we check the Kingdom histories for around that time, maybe we can find the points of intersection, and figure out what the pieces are that we’re missing. And if nothing else, at least we know that Simon won’t be able to come after us there. We can regroup.”

“Charming,” sighed Tybalt. “Ah, well. At least it’s a plan, rather than a knee-jerk reaction to a previously unknown threat. That’s an encouraging change in your usual mode of operation.”

“Jerk,” I accused.

“Yes,” he said mildly. “But your jerk, which I think buys me a certain measure of leniency.”

My reply was cut off by the sound of Quentin’s phone chiming. “I’ve got the address,” he said. “We’re cleared to enter the Library.”

“Great,” I said, and hit the gas. It was time to get some answers. If the Luidaeg couldn’t help us, we were going to have to help ourselves. And maybe then, we could help her.

EIGHT

FOLLOWING THE DIRECTIONS on Quentin’s phone brought us to the Library of Stars in less than twenty minutes, mostly via side streets and alleys where there was no traffic, but where a single trash bin could make the road too narrow for us to continue until somebody got out and moved it. We probably traveled about three miles all told, moving deeper into the heart of the city with every turn we took.

Fae Libraries—capital letter intentional—are strange things, both like and unlike their mortal equivalents. You can’t just walk in and request a Library card; unless you’ve been invited by the current Librarian, you can’t walk in at all. All Libraries are constructed in shallowings, space scooped out in the thin membrane between the Summerlands and the mortal world. The doors are hard to find and constantly moving, thanks to the enchantments built into the walls. The only way to get inside is to have a Library card, or to get one of the Librarians to give you permission. Prior to meeting Li Qin and being introduced to Mags, I had never seen a Library. Now, it seemed we couldn’t go six months without my paying a visit.

Last time we’d dropped by, the Library had been concealed behind a secondhand bookstore that had looked like it was on the verge of crumbling into utter disrepair. Despite the fact that the new set of directions had taken us into a completely different neighborhood, we found ourselves in front of that same filthy, rundown bookstore when we pulled up at the address that Mags had provided. Even the doorway had moved, bringing with it a wealth of splinters and ancient spiderwebs.

“Huh,” I said, getting out of the car. Tybalt and Quentin followed. “Anybody want to bet that none of the neighbors have noticed this place?”

“I do not take what you call ‘sucker bets,’” said Tybalt, wrinkling his nose at the condition of the store window. “I do, however, feel the distinct need to put on gloves before I touch anything.”

I paused with my hand on the doorknob, looking back at him. “I don’t remember you being this concerned with the condition of the place the last time we were here.”

“You had just been exiled the last time we came to the Library,” he said, in a reasonable tone. “I am taking this situation very seriously, and yet for once, we are not in such a state of immediate crisis that I am unable to appreciate the little things.”