Chapter Twenty-Two

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There was no show at the Blackbird Cabaret tonight. But I could, just barely, make out light behind the blackout curtains in back, so I was pretty sure Capinera was there.

I was still somewhat nervous as I approached the building. I could feel the power woven into it like a thin, humming spiderweb I was brushing my way through. Those wards were pretty damn strong, for me to feel them from the parking lot. When the Blackbird Cabaret closed and locked its doors for the night, you’d be well-advised to take it seriously.

I had never asked Capinera what the wards would do to someone dumb enough to try and break in. Maybe I was afraid of what the answer might be. But I was guessing that whatever the answer was, it ended with dead people in the parking lot.

Capinera was a sweetheart, but at the end of the day, she spent much of her life as an assassin among the Midnight Court. That, alone, would be enough to have me a little nervous about walking up and ringing the doorbell.

It felt like I was standing there for a very long time. I was alone; Lily had dropped me a few blocks away, because I was hardly bringing a vampire here unannounced. Saori and Raincloud were still out being suave criminals who knew how to cheat at cards, quite unlike myself. I had Thorn with me, though, holding it loosely in my left hand. I wasn’t sure why I was carrying it when I could have left it in Lily’s car just as easily, but it felt right.

Eventually, I heard movement inside. There were quick, light footsteps coming up to the door. Then a pause. The pause, too, felt like it went on longer than I was comfortable with.

But eventually I heard locks start disengaging, and felt some of that humming tension fade as she lowered the wards. And then, finally, the door opened a crack, still with a pair of heavy chains keeping it to a crack. Capinera looked out at me, and she was holding her sword in much the same way I was Thorn, which felt strangely comical to me.

“Kyoko? What’s up?”

“I need…I don’t know. Someone to tell me just how badly I’ve screwed up, I suppose.”

Concern was obvious in her features, and she closed the door just long enough to undo the chains before she was waving me inside. “Come in. What’s going on?”

I sighed. “Some really…strange…person made a deal with me. The favor she asked for as payment seemed suspiciously trivial, and I don’t like the situation at all, but I didn’t see a lot of options. And now that I’ve seen what she was offering I like it even less.”

Capinera sighed, soft and slow. “Let me get the door,” she said, and turned to do so. I went and sat on the stage, because right now the idea of standing felt far too tiring. When she joined me, rather than say anything, I just handed her the invitation.

She read through it, twice, and then handed it back. “Well then,” she said, in a voice that I couldn’t read at all. “You don’t do trouble by halves, do you?”

I laughed. “No. Not really. She said she would get me into a social event where I could find people who know about the situation I’m in. Asked for virtually nothing in return, and I really don’t like that, it feels deeply suspect to me. But I didn’t see a way around it that wouldn’t make things even worse. That was last night. Tonight I found that just sitting on the table. No message, nothing, just the invitation.”

“That’s…impressive.” Capinera looked at the sheet of vellum in my hands with the same wary respect she might accord a pit viper. “You don’t know who she was, I take it.”

I shook my head. “Nope, not really. Said to call her Dusk but I’m quite sure that’s not her name.”

“Unsurprising. But you can make some inferences, I’m sure. If nothing else, being able to procure this is…remarkable.”

“Yeah,” I sighed. “Got that impression. Can you walk me through what it means, keeping in mind that I have zero previous experience with the Courts?”

“Certainly. So, begin with the fact that it specifies both Courts being in attendance.”

“I noticed,” I said. “And it surprised me, seeing as they’re at war.” The Courts of the Sidhe had been at war…if not forever, close enough that from where I was sitting it didn’t make much difference.

“Mm. Yes, but it’s in some ways not so different from my father and I. They are at war, and the war can be a bloody one. But it can also sometimes be rather pro forma, and there are interactions between the two outside that context which are far less martial. But such events are rare, particularly on this scale. This one will likely attract attention and guests from outside the Courts as well.”

I nodded. That made…some kind of sense. The Sidhe were always just…strange by mortal standards. Simultaneously being at war with each other and attending the same parties seemed pretty believable for them. “I think I follow.”

“Good. So, the next factor is the host. Events involving both Courts are always on neutral ground, for obvious reasons. Something more significant like this will be hosted by someone who matters, who has significant personal and political power. In this case, Nephele, which is a name I recognize. She’s a nymph, a very old and powerful one.”

“Nymph,” I said. “So Greek?”

Capinera shrugged. “To a degree. The factions and beings which you’re used to thinking of based on their geographic distribution here are, of course, much more complex than that. But yes, Nephele is associated with that region and those beings. She is one of Artemis’s personal attendants and most favored hunting partners.”

“So, one step short of a goddess. Great.” I sighed.

“Pretty much, yes. Artemis would not host something like this herself; she is too powerful, and she is not interested in being dragged into Sidhe politics, as she inevitably would when various people tried to win her favor. But Nephele is very nearly as strong as one of the Sidhe Queens, and moreover, well. No one sane wants to risk arousing Artemis’s personal anger by attacking her favored attendant.”

“Yeah, no shit,” I muttered. People who did things like that were…well. There were so many fates worse than simply dying, and pissing off a major deity was a great way to sign up for some. Just ask Prometheus.

But what I was even more disturbed by, and why I was now looking at the invitation with at least as much wariness as Capinera, was the implication. This wasn’t just being invited to high-society Sidhe parties anymore. It was being invited to a high-society Sidhe social event hosted by a nymph, when my current problems involved a Sidhe assassin and a nymph who was trying to kill me. Events like this did not happen often, and there were plenty of possible neutral parties. The idea that there just happened to be a gathering of the Sidhe hosted by Nephele exactly when those were the two groups I most urgently needed to know about by coincidence was laughable.

“Precisely,” Capinera said quietly, and I got the impression she knew exactly what had just been going through my head, just from my expression as I realized this. “Danger on all sides, it seems. Now, it says it’s a New Year celebration, which tells you several things. One, it’s linked to the mortal world, and as a result there will be more attendees who have associations with this world. Two, you don’t have to worry about time dilation. Because it’s closely linked, you can be sure that the party begins at sundown on New Year’s Eve, and you will return the following day.”

I let out a sigh of relief. That…was something I’d been worrying about. There were tons of faerie tales about people spending a night with the fae and returning to find that years or decades had rolled past in the mortal world in their absence. “That’s…something, at least.”

“Yes. And you can be sure that the peace will be maintained, as well. Nephele is extremely well-known for her neutrality, and the truce will be enforced strictly. You will not be at risk of any direct harm.”

“But that’s not the same thing as saying it’s safe,” I said quietly.

Capinera smiled, though it didn’t show teeth and felt more sad than anything. “No. Not at all. The Sidhe are at their most dangerous in this kind of setting, I think. They can be quite lethal on the battlefield, but their bargains and games are a qualitatively different kind of danger. Particularly because they tend to be very patient, and they often use misdirection to conceal their true aim. You might think you have gotten the better of one of the Sidhe in some contest or bargain. And then, years or even decades down the road, you suddenly learn that you won only in seeming. Their goal wasn’t what you thought, and they won the game that actually matters. Ever since, you’ve just been playing into their hands.”

I nodded. That was about what I’d heard from other people, the reputation they had. “Any advice for mitigating that risk? I assume ‛don’t go to this party’ would be best, but I don’t see that working out so great for me in other ways.”

Capinera considered that for a moment. “Don’t move in straight lines,” she said eventually. “That, I think, is the most common and perhaps the most dangerous mistake people make. I think that people tend to decide that because the fae are better at misdirection and trickery than they ever will be, it is better not to contest them in that arena, to instead act in direct ways.”

I snorted. “Yeah, because that works out so great in faerie tales. Everyone knows that if you try for obvious, predictable solutions, the trickster won’t know what to do.”

Capinera laughed softly. “Quite. It’s an understandable impulse, but yes, it’s a treacherous one. If you think in straight lines, you will be easy prey, and they will play you like a fiddle. You have to approach things sideways with the Sidhe, to move so far away from your target that you come at it from behind.”

“I know this may surprise you,” I said dryly. “But thinking in nonlinear ways is kind of a thing I do anyway.”

“Well then, you’ll be well suited to this, won’t you?”

“I guess I can hope so, but I doubt it will be enough.” I sighed. “It says I’m allowed to bring an escort. I don’t suppose you’d be willing?”

Capinera shrugged. “I am willing,” she said. “But I recommend you think carefully before you ask. I have…many enemies among the Courts.”

“I thought you said the truce was reliable.”

“Oh, absolutely,” she agreed. “They would not attack there. But you have to consider why they haven’t attacked me here. For some it’s because of this…unofficial exile. An informal understanding that I will stay gone, and they will let me stay that way. For others, it is because Clíodhna has declared me to be under her protection and one does not lightly risk her anger. If you were to show up beside me, and especially if this were your first impression upon the Courts, neither group would have a reason to hold back. I would not be surprised if they were to hunt you down afterwards.”

I paused and turned towards her. “You think there will be someone there who hates you that much?”

“I give it better than even odds,” she said quietly. “And you have enough enemies of your own without adding mine as well.”

“Walking in blind might be even worse,” I replied. “I mean, I’m all for jumping in the deep end, but that’s a little extreme.”

“True. I would not advise going alone. And if you want, I will come with you. But I would personally recommend trying to find someone else if you can.”

I nodded. It felt implausible to me that Capinera had so many enemies that a random sample of attendees drawn from a single Court event, of whom we would only interact with a small portion, would include someone with that much of a grudge. But the whole reason I was asking her about this was that she knew what she was doing on this topic, and I did not. I’d be an idiot to then ignore the advice she gave me.

“I’m sorry,” Capinera said after a moment.

I blinked. “Sorry? About what?”

“I don’t know. I feel like I should be able to do more here.”

I just paused and stared at her. It took me a few moments to even formulate a response to that, and even when I did manage one it was still a bit…well. It was very me.

“Capinera,” I said slowly, “you’re very sweet, but there are times when I really want to slap some sense into you.”

The expression on her face was absolutely priceless. I wasn’t sure what response she’d been expecting, but it definitely wasn’t this one, and the startlement on display was glorious. “What?” she said, sounding absolutely dumbfounded, which was kind of her because I didn’t get to use that word very often.

“You heard me. Like…let’s look at the past week or so, okay? In no particular order, you have: Provided me with personal and emotional support; given me useful insight into a situation I have no prior experience with; offered me food and shelter when I showed up without warning; and now you’re providing me with insight about another, comparably dangerous situation I also have no prior experience with. All with no expectation of payment. That’s in addition to going out of your way to make coming here comfortable for me in an ongoing way and aforementioned personal support and friendship over the past several months. And you’re apologizing for not doing more?”

I started out counting on my fingers. By the time I was done I was onto my second hand, and hadn’t yet gotten to the part where within a couple days of meeting me she was risking her life in the forest in a fight she had no personal stake in. I was still staring at her.

“When you put it that way,” Capinera admitted, “it does sound rather silly of me.”

I snorted. “Is there another way to put it?” I asked. “Look, I’m sorry for being that blunt, but just…it feels like you’re breaking yourself into pieces trying to meet a standard no one can reasonably be expected to. You don’t have to martyr yourself like this.”

“You care very deeply about your friends, don’t you?”

“You already told me that. A few days ago.”

Capinera smiled, mostly visible around her eyes. “I know, but it hasn’t stopped being true. And since the theme of the evening seems to be compliments that are true but somewhat uncomfortable to hear: You care about people. You’re a good friend, Kyoko, better than you think, and people want to be in your life for valid reasons. You don’t need to also take on responsibility for other people’s wellbeing and happiness.”

I shifted uncomfortably where I was sitting on the stage, which probably meant she had hit her target. “I guess not,” I said. “It just…I haven’t had many friends in my life. And most of the friends I have had…things didn’t go so well for them. I guess I’m prone to worry as a result.”

“What happened?” Capinera asked softly. “If I may.”

I shrugged. “Eh. It varied. Two guys from the Yakuza who got shot in a drive-by, another that I killed when I went berserk. Boyfriend got weird after a breakup and I ended up basically having him killed. Two casual friends who killed themselves. None of them were all that close, but still.”

“There’s been a lot of death in your life, hasn’t there?”

My lips twitched into a wry half-smile. “We make a great pair, then, don’t we? But even the friends who are still around, I mean. None of us have had a great time in life.”

And that might have taken the understatement-of-the-week title, right there. When I looked at the people I was still friends with, the trend was pretty fucking clear. Melissa’s kidnapping and captivity had been so over-the-top horrific that I didn’t even like to contemplate it. The dvergar had provided her with extensive support since then; officially it was as compensation for a lapse in security tangentially related to her, but personally I had always suspected it was more that Audgrim had pushed for it. They provided her with a fully supported living environment, arranged for therapy of various kinds, the works. Even with that, and after years of recovery, she was barely able to function and even managing that was impressive as hell.

Pepper’s family and society had literally been breaking her since before she was born. Capinera herself had such a dysfunctional family that assassination attempts were their equivalent of greeting cards. I didn’t know as much about Maddie or Saori’s history, but I knew both had more than their fair share of scars. Hell, even Derek had his humanity torn away in a sudden, violent assault.

My friends hadn’t had great lives. Understatement of the week.

“Few people do, it seems,” Capinera said quietly. “Life is kind only rarely, and gentle almost never.”

“Yeah,” I said, just as quietly. A human sitting beside us probably couldn’t have made out the words. That felt…odd to me, poignant and somehow sad. “That’s been my observation as well.”

We sat in companionable silence for a few minutes before Capinera spoke again. “It’s nice having you here, you know,” she said.

“How so?”

She shrugged. “I get lonely. It’s nice having you around.”

Loneliness seemed to be another common trait among my friends. And, as with pain and insanity, I was aware I was no exception. I had spent so long, so isolated, and why? Why had I actively cut myself off from social bonds for over a decade? I had no real answer, and in some ways that was the worst part.

“How do you feel about hugs?” I asked after a few moments of quiet.

“They’re pleasant. Why do you ask?”

“Because I don’t remember having asked you before, and some of my friends have…issues with them.” I thought about trying to, for example, impulsively hug Melissa, and had to work not to shiver. I had seen someone try, once. Some drunk guy had decided to take liberties one night, not too long after we had rescued her. That had been the first time I’d seen her kill someone, and while I’d been too busy comforting Melissa to pay much attention to him, I knew his death had been slow, nasty, and miserable.

“That makes sense, but why do you ask now?”

“Ohh,” I said, realizing what she meant. “Because you’re lonely, and I like you, and I’m pretty tactile in how I express affection. Also you’re cute, you smell like blackberries and it’s nice, and I’m in an impulsive mood.”

“Ah, I see. That makes sense. I smell like blackberries?”

I shrugged. “You do to me. I’m very sensitive to magic, and my brain interprets it as sensory input, so it tends to get woven into my perception of people. Yours smells like, hm. Blackberries, blood, occasionally lilacs. It’s beautiful.” I actually did shiver now, though it was for a very different reason than it would have been a few moments ago.

Capinera smiled, showing teeth like needles. “I see. Hugs are pleasant. And you are also beautiful.”

I blinked. “Are you flirting with me?”

“Yes. Is that unwelcome?”

“No, not at all. Just unexpected.” I grinned at her. “Like I said, you’re cute and I’m tactile. So the flirtation is entirely sincere on my part. If you’re ever in the mood.”

“Would Saori be troubled by this?” It was almost the same question Derek had asked, but I found it didn’t strike me in the same way, and not only because of who was asking it. There was less of a presumptive tone when Capinera asked. Derek had asked like he already knew the answer, knew what the situation was. Capinera asked like she was curious, and wanted to understand. The difference, I found, was significant.

“Doubt it. Neither of us is really into monogamy as a concept. Are monogamous relationships common among the Court?”

Capinera shrugged. “No, not really. The Sidhe are immortal, and all the fae have a certain…caprice about them, it is in their nature. The notion of indefinite commitment is alien to many of them. Marriage, to the extent it happens at all, will generally be more a political union than a romantic one. But I have found it to be common here, and I would rather not hurt either of you.”

“You’re sweet. But rest assured, no one is being hurt. So yeah, sincere on my part.”

Capinera smiled, and slid closer to me, leaving her rapier lying on the stage beside Thorn. Her teeth were as sharp as they looked, and she tasted bittersweet, like blackberries and lilacs and silver fire.

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