Page 76 of A Killing Frost

“No one’s asking you to,” said Simon.

We were approaching the kitchen. The lights were on, spilling warm and buttery into the hall. This was Marcia’s territory; she’d be inside if she wasn’t out of the knowe running an errand for Dean. I motioned for the others to stay where they were, pulling my hand out of Tybalt’s, and hurried forward to stick my head into the room.

As I’d expected, there was Marcia, kneading dough on one of the counters. She was back in her usual clothing, no signs of blood or trauma, and her hair had been brushed sleek. That was a good sign. I rapped my knuckles against the doorframe. “Marcia?” I called.

“Oh!” She jumped, barely managing not to drop her dough as she spun around and clutched her flour-covered hands against her chest. “October! I didn’t expect to see you so soon. The Luidaeg just left.”

“I know,” I said. “I’ve been at her apartment. We had to take care of a few things. Where’s Dean?”

“Down in the cove,” she said. “He’s understandably shaken bythe events of the day, and he needed time to clear his head. If you have any business for the County, you can present it to me, and I’ll do my best to help you.”

“Unfortunately, my business is with Saltmist,” I said. “I need Dean to call his parents, and I should probably get the rest of my party out of the hall before—”

A shrill scream from the hall penetrated the kitchen air. I grimaced.

“—someone sees them,” I finished. “Dammit.” I spun and ran back into the hall, Marcia close behind me.

One of Lily’s former handmaidens, a delicate Silene with willow boughs braided in her cascading green hair, was pressed against the wall, knees shaking, pointing at Simon. Marcia grabbed a broom from beside the door and strode forward, pushing past me in her hurry to smack him upside the head with the bristles. He yelped, shielding his face with his arms. She hit him again. As she was pulling back for a third swing, I grabbed the broom handle, and was relieved to find that I was sufficiently stronger than her to stop her before she could continue her assault.

“Marcia, he’s with me,” I said, trying to wrestle the broom away from her.

She didn’t let go. Well, I couldn’t entirely blame her for that. As long as I was holding one end of the broom, she at least wasn’t hitting Simon anymore. She snarled—literally snarled—and tried to kick him without letting go of her portion of the broom handle. Simon yelped again, ducking behind Tybalt, who looked mildly amused by the whole situation.

“Still a coward, I see,” he said, shifting his body just enough to shield Simon from further assault. “What else hasn’t changed, I wonder?”

“My profound dislike of pain also remains intact,” said Simon stiffly. Unlike Tybalt, he sounded distinctlyunamused.

“If we could stop hitting each other, that would be nice,” I said, giving the broom another hard tug. This time, Marcia let go. I managed not to stumble. “Simon needs to apologize to Dean for what he did, and then we all need to speak with Patrick and Dianda.”

“How is hewith you?” Marcia demanded. “He—he—he attacked us all! He’s a monster!”

“No,” I said gently. “He’s a man, and men make mistakes. Thewoman who thought she’d purchased his soul, she’s a monster, and she’s asleep. She’s going to be asleep for a long, long time.” Although I was going to have to talk to the Luidaeg about that. After what Evening had said about her power being strongest when she was sleeping, I wasn’t sure leaving her elf-shot forever was really the safest thing for the rest of us.

But that could wait.

“I am profoundly sorry for my actions here; if I could take them back, I would,” said Simon, stepping out from behind Tybalt now that Marcia was no longer armed. “I acted under the constraints of a spell which clouded my mind and left me unable to tell friend from foe. You have my apologies.”

“Friend from foe and right from wrong,” said Marcia. “I don’t go around turning people into trees just because they’re not my friends.”

Simon looked, for a moment, like he wanted to remind her that she didn’t have the power to do anything of the sort. Then he shook his head, expression clearing, and said, “That as well. It won’t happen again. I’ve been freed from the consequences of my own actions and have no intention of selling my soul to anyone else. I’m quite done with masters of that sort. I have no reason to expect you to forgive me, but still, I hope that you can learn to see me as something other than your enemy.”

Marcia glanced down the hall to the courtyard door. “I’m not ready for that yet,” she said, in a tone which made it clear that she might never be ready. This was a betrayal that ran deep and would continue to do so for some time.

That made sense. As a former member of Lily’s household, Marcia had already lost one home due to Simon, and all the “I wasn’t myself at the time” in the world couldn’t change or undo what had been done. No one here was going to force her to forgive him. Not even me.

“Dean’s in the cove, you said?” I asked.

Marcia nodded silently.

“Then we’ll go down,” I said. “I’ll see you when we’re done.”

“All right,” she said, and held out her hand. I gave her back her broom, and she stepped back into the kitchen, leaving us to proceed on our own.

The normal door to the cove receiving room was present and unlocked, saving me from the need to go searching for it. That wassomething of a relief, as it meant the knowe at least partially approved of us going to speak with Dean. I patted the doorframe reassuringly as we passed through it, trying to signal to the knowe that we meant no harm. Tybalt gave me a tolerantly amused look.

“Someday your penchant for being kind to buildings will stop entertaining me,” he said. “Not today.”

“I can’t keep you and Simon both around,” I said. “You both talk like you think Oscar Wilde is going to come along and give you dialogue notes, and there’s only so much I can take.”

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