Chimes at Midnight

I hate being helpless even more than I hate being hurt. I spent too much of my life thinking I couldn’t take care of myself, and having that condition thrust upon me was not making me a happy girl. The steady rumbling in my stomach wasn’t helping. If this went on much longer, I was going to be just like every other goblin fruit addict in the world: out of my mind with wanting, ready to do anything for a fix.

My lungs were burning by the time Tybalt stepped out of the shadows and into the cool night of the mortal world. I coughed, wiping the ice from my face, and tried to scramble down. He bent to make it easier for me. I cast him a grateful look before catching myself on the nearest surface—a brick wall—and vomiting. I didn’t have anything in my stomach, but that didn’t seem to matter to my body. It was unhappy, and it was going to make sure I knew it.

Tybalt put a hand on my back, resting it in the space between my shoulder blades. “Are you all right?”

“Not on this or any other planet.” I straightened up, looking around. We were under the old bridge spanning the creek that cut through the middle of campus. I sighed. “See, if I’d just realized where we’d come out, I could have thrown up in the water. Less mess.”

“Yes, but won’t you think about the frogs? I’m sure they receive enough unwanted vomit from the student body.”

I blinked. And then, to my surprise, I laughed. Tybalt smiled toothily.

“Good,” he said. “You’re still you.”

“You’re stuck with me,” I said.

His smile faded, replaced by a quiet uncertainty that I’d come to recognize an inch at a time, picking it out of his more common expressions like a secret that was just for me. Kings of Cats aren’t supposed to be weak; they’re not supposed to be uncertain or worried. Those are emotions for people who don’t have Kingdoms to run.

Or for people standing alone with their suddenly mostly-human girlfriends, wondering if they put off saying, “I love you” for too long. I put my hand against the side of his face. This was the first time we’d been alone since I woke up. If I couldn’t afford a few seconds for this, it was already too late. I was already lost.

“Hey,” I said. “I mean it. You’re stuck with me. I’m not going anywhere. If there’s an answer, we’ll find it. And if there’s not an answer, we’ll create it. We’re going to talk to Walther, and then we’re going to ask the Luidaeg if she knows where to find a hope chest, and we’re going to fix this. I’ll be back to normal before you know it.”

“Your life is in danger. You’re stubborn, pigheaded, and refusing to admit the gravity of your situation. I’d say you’re normal right now.” His tone was light, but it couldn’t disguise his relief.

“Don’t make fun of me while I’m in the middle of a crisis.”

Tybalt peeled my hand away from his face, holding it as he stepped closer. There was no space left between us. “My sweet little fish. If I refused to make fun of you simply because you were in the grips of a crisis, I would never have the opportunity to make fun of you again.”

“I’d be okay with that,” I said.

He laughed and started to lean forward, clearly intending to kiss me. I raised a hand, stopping him. He blinked at me.

“I just threw up,” I said.

“October, given the circumstances—”

“All I can possibly have had in my stomach was goblin fruit. I don’t need to deal with you going on a magical mystery tour while I’m trying to cross campus. Let me rinse my mouth, and then you can have all the reassuring kisses you want, okay?”

Tybalt sighed. “Loath as I am to acquiesce to your request, it does have merit.”

“You could have just said ‘okay,’ you know.”

“Ah, but then, would you have smiled?”

I laughed, and held his hand as we walked out from under the bridge, heading for the dirt trail cut into the hillside by generations of students coming and going. The campus was mostly deserted this late at night. A few students walked the pathways, but they were few and far between, as were the homeless people sleeping in the shelter of the school’s patches of carefully preserved natural vegetation. I realized with a shiver that I couldn’t tell whether the people remaining were human or fae, and walked a little closer to Tybalt. My current condition could come with a lot of nasty surprises if I wasn’t careful.

“Are you cold?” he asked, looking down at me.

“Just facing a few unpleasant realities,” I said. “Walther’s office is this way.”

As a junior faculty member, Walther rated a proper lab less because he was valuable, and more because he had a tendency to cause unexpected and odd-smelling explosions. I was pretty sure he’d used some persuasion spells, and maybe a glamour or two, to convince the administration to give him as much leeway as he had. He was in a better spot than some people with much more seniority, and nobody seemed to mind.

Then again, this was Walther. They probably just assumed he’d blow himself to kingdom come and they’d get his space without having to waste precious political favors.