If he doesn’t come from a really liberal family, I am eventually going to have to do some serious explaining.

“Get out of the car,” I said, dropping my hand. “You’re here. You may as well make yourself useful.”

Quentin grinned, scrambling to open the door. Danny’s Barghests poured out before Quentin had his seat belt undone, swarming around my feet making the weird yodeling noises that passed as their happy-to-see-you bark. I took a step backward, trying to maintain my balance. “Danny!”

“Aw, heck, sorry about that,” said Danny, and planted two enormous fingers in his mouth, giving an earsplitting whistle. I winced, waiting for the museum security guards to put in an appearance.

Luck was with us for a change; no guards appeared as the Barghests stopped circling my ankles and went racing over to dance around Danny, scorpion tails wagging in wild delight. There were only three of them, if onlyis the appropriate word when talking about corgi-sized semicanine monsters with venomous stings and retractable claws. Danny runs a Barghest rescue service, and they tend to go everywhere with him when he’s not driving mortal clientele. I don’t think he’s ever managed to adopt one out. I also don’t think he cares.

I shook my head. “Which ones are these?”

“Iggy, Lou, an’ Daisy,” Danny said proudly, bending down to pet his venomous charges, who yodeled more in their delight. “Daisy’s the smart one. She figured out how to open the door on the mail truck. You shoulda seen the mailman’s face.”

That was another line of thought I didn’t really feel like pursuing. I shook my head. “Okay, great. Come on. We need to find a way to get into Goldengreen without the knowe deciding to kill us all.”

“Sounds like fun to me,” said Danny, and grinned, showing a mouthful of teeth like broken concrete.

“Wish I shared the sentiment,” I said, and started down the path toward the cliffside entrance.

“LOOK AT ITthis way, May,” said Danny encouragingly. “At least you were the first one off the cliff. Tobes or the kid woulda drowned, and I’d be walking along the bottom to get back to shore.”

May glared at him, continuing to wring the water out of her hair. “I can swim, but I still fell.”

“Yeah,” Danny agreed. “It was funny.”

“We don’t really have time for you to kill each other,” I said, stepping between them before my sodden Fetch could lunge. “So the cliff entrance has sealed itself, the garden entrance is one-way, and the entrance in the old shed is gone. The only other entrance I know of is in the museum itself, and that’s not going to work without breaking and entering.”

Quentin looked up. “Wait—you mean there was an entrance in that old shed we passed?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “That’s how I used to get in.”

“I think I have an idea.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Did you miss the part where the entrance was gone?”

“Yeah, but... ‘What’s been leaves marks on what is.’ ” He was clearly quoting something. All three of us looked at him uncomprehendingly. Quentin smiled, a little sheepishly. “I’ve actually been paying attention to my magical theory lessons.”

I didn’t have a better idea. “Okay, if you think you can get us in through the shed, let’s give it a try. It’s got to be more effective than chucking May off cliffs.”

“Not as funny, though,” said Danny.

“Hey!” protested May.

Danny kept chuckling all the way back to the shed.

It hadn’t visibly changed; it was still rickety, ancient, and choked over with rust. Quentin waved for the rest of us to stop a few feet away while he circled it slowly, the steel and heather scent of his magic gathering around him as he walked. I watched carefully, less because I wanted to see what he was doing—I’m learning to admit that the Daoine Sidhe can do things that I can’t—and more because I wanted to see howhe was doing it. Quentin hasn’t used much magic beyond simple illusions in the time that I’ve known him. If he was going to start branching out, I wanted to see where he was going.

After his third trip around the shed, Quentin leaned forward to touch the open padlock, murmuring something that I couldn’t quite hear. An answering whisper echoed through the grass around us, sounding like the dying protests of the wind. Quentin said something else, dropping his hand to the shed’s rusted latch. The whisper this time was louder, and lasted longer. The smell of heather and steel was getting heavier by the second, chasing everything else away. It was just Quentin’s magic, the whispering grass, and the night.

And then the door swung open, revealing a square of blackness too profound to be anything but magical. Quentin looked back over his shoulder, sweat beading on his forehead, and offered a wan smile. “I got the door,” he said. “But we should probably hurry. I don’t know how long I can hold it.”

“You did good,” I said, motioning the others to follow as I walked quickly forward. “What did you do?”

“Countess Winterrose was Daoine Sidhe. You, um, aren’t.” He shrugged a little, looking uncomfortable. His hand never left the doorframe. “I told the knowe that I’m her. It believes me, for right now. But that’s going to change real soon.”

“That’s fine. We’re going.” I offered a quick smile and stepped past him, into the dark.

THE DOOR LEDto the main courtyard, a vast, circular room with crystal panels in the domed ceiling. They let in at least a little light from the starry Summerlands sky overhead, where four lilac moons hung high. The knowe was tied to the mortal world but wasn’t a part of it. That was the issue. I don’t know about most people, but I’ve never walked into a dead woman’s house and had it order me to get out again. That sort of real estate problem is reserved for Faerie.

Danny and the Barghests were the next ones through. Iggy, Lou, and Daisy promptly scattered, tails wagging as they ran around the room trying to sniff everything at once, while Danny stopped beside me, planting his hands on his hips as he considered the room.

“You really planning to keep people in here?” he asked. “What, are you gonna sling hammocks or somethin’?”

“It’ll be a home improvement project. If it lets us start.” I turned in time to see Quentin follow May through, and stepped over to offer him my arm. “How’re you feeling?”

“Winded. Like I just ran a marathon. But awesome.” Quentin offered me a bright smile. “Did you see what I did?”

“I did. That was cool. I’ll be sure to let Sylvester know that you’re progressing in your illusions. And right after that, I’ll tell him you were visiting the Luidaeg on your own.”

“Hey!”

“Take the good with the bad, kiddo.” Inwardly, I was miffed. The Luidaeg hadn’t spoken to me in weeks. The fact that Quentin was able to casually visit stung. And besides, Sylvester Torquill is the Duke of Shadowed Hills, which makes Quentin his responsibility. If he didn’t know that Quentin was sneaking into San Francisco to visit the Luidaeg, he needed to be informed.

Quentin wrinkled his nose at me, but didn’t protest again as I turned to study the courtyard. Danny’s Barghests were still sniffing their way around the room. Danny seemed to be keeping a close eye on them, which was a relief; I wasn’t sure how many halls were connected to the courtyard, and I didn’t want to add Barghest hunting to my list of things to do today. May, meanwhile, had wandered into the center of the room and was looking up, studying the Summerlands stars through the crystal panels in the roof. The knowe wasn’t yelling at us yet. That was a nice change. Of course, once Quentin’s spell wore off . . .

“It’s too bad I don’t know where the other exits are from here,” I muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing. Let’s see if we can’t figure out where the lights are.”

I started slowly forward, watching the shadows that collected at the base of the walls for signs that something was going to lunge out at us. Nothing seemed to be moving, but that could just be because we had yet to move far enough away from the door. If Goldengreen was truly tired of our intrusions, it might want to make sure we wouldn’t be able to escape. What a charming thought.