The two Ladies gave me level gazes. Neither of them said, "Obviously," but it hung on the spell-muffled air nonetheless.
Then I had a thought. Cat Sith had lied to me very effectively only moments ago, because I assumed reasonable things and he allowed me to charge off down that line of thinking. This was no time to make a rookie mistake like that.
"Okay," I said. "I'm going to do something I know you both hate. I'm going to get direct. And I'm going to get direct answers from you, answers that convince me that you aren't trying to hide anything from me and aren't trying to mislead me. I know you both have to speak the truth. So give me simple, declarative answers, or I assume you're scheming and walk away right now."
That made Lily press her lips together and fold her arms. Her gaze turned reproachful. Maeve rolled her eyes, casually gave me the finger, and said, "Wizards are such weasels."
"Deal with it," I said. "Lily. Are you sure that this contagion you speak of is real, and works the way you say it does?"
Lily looked like opening her mouth exposed her taste buds to something foul, but she answered, "Absolutely."
"Are you sure Mab has been . . . been infected?"
"I am all but certain," Lily said. "But I have not examined her for myself."
"I have," Maeve said calmly. "While you and my people were putting on such a garish distraction at that dreary little celebration of your birth, Sir Knight." She stretched and yawned, making sure to pull her sweater tight against her chest. "That was the purpose of it, after all."
I scowled. "You examined Mab?"
"Yes."
"And you're sure she's infected?" I asked.
For just a fraction of a second, Maeve's smug exterior changed, becoming graver, more somber. In that instant, she and Lily looked as though they might have been fraternal twins. "With absolute certainty."
"And you're sure she means to attack the mortal world as you've described?"
That serious version of Maeve met my eyes. "Yes," she said. "Think, wizard. Remember your godmother, bound in ice at Arctis Tor. That was when my mother trapped her and spread the contagion into her. Think of the creatures of Faerie Wyld who have been behaving irregularly and unpredictably. Think of the strange conduct of some of the Houses of the White Court, changing their diets after centuries of stasis. Think of the Fomor, active and aggressive again for the first time in millennia." She stepped up close to me. "None of these things is coincidence. It spreads, a force that will upend the world and all of us with it. And what has happened until now is nothing compared to what will come if Mab is not stopped before the sun rises once more."
Maeve stepped back from me, watching me, her exotic eyes opaque.
Silence fell within the little privacy spell.
Well, crap.
That was pretty much that.
Neither of the Ladies could speak a direct lie. I hadn't left them any room to dance around the truth. They were serious. I guess it was possible that they might have been mistaken, but they were damned well sincere.
"Neither of us can stop her," Lily said into that silence. "Even working together, we do not have anything like the power needed to overcome Mab's defenses, and she would never lower her guard for either of us."
"But for you," Maeve said.
"Her knight," Lily said, "her champion."
"She might not be quite so guarded," Maeve said, her eyes shining fever-bright. "You have power enough to smite her, if you strike when she is unprepared."
"What?" I blurted.
"What we ask you is not fair," Lily said. "We know tha . . ." She glanced at Maeve. "Well. I know that. But we have no other options."
"Uh, yes, you do," I said. "What about Titania? The Queen of Summer is an equal opposite, isn't she? Mab's mirror?"
The two Ladies exchanged a guarded look.
"Out with it," I said. "We're way past word games here."
Lily nodded. "She . . . refuses to act. I do not know why."
"Because she's terrified she'll be infected, too, obviously," Maeve snapped.
"Guys," I said. "I have seen what Mab is. Even if I catch her off guard, I don't have the kind of clout it takes to drop someone in her league."
Lily blinked at me several times. "But . . . but you do. You have Winter."
"Which is meaningful because . . . ?"
"Because she is Winter," Maeve said. "The Winter within you is Mab and she is it. The one thing you can never protect yourself against is yourself. You of all people should know this, wizard."
I shuddered. I did.
"The Winter Knight is a useful weapon," Maeve said. "But it has ever been one with two edges. Mab stands no mightier than any of the Sidhe against your hand, Sir Knight."
I narrowed my eyes at Maeve. "Wait a minute," I said. "Why in the hell should I think you're trying to help me? Since when have you cared about the mortal world, Maeve?"
Her smile widened. "Since I realized that should my mother fall, I will have a very large and very exclusive chair to sit upon back at Arctis Tor, wizard. Do not think for a moment that I do it from the kindness of my heart. I want the throne."
Now, that was a scary thought. Mab was a force of nature, sure, but she also acted a lot like one. She rarely took things personally, she didn't play favorites, and she was generally speaking equally dangerous to everyone. Maeve, though. That bitch was just not right. The thought of her with Mab's mantle of power was something terrifying to anyone with half a brain-especially the guy who would be her personal champion.
"I don't dig the idea of serving you, Maeve," I said.
At that, the lazy sex-kitten look came back into her eyes. "I haven't yet begun to persuade you, wizard. But be assured that I would never, ever throw away a tool so useful as you would be, should you succeed."
"Even if it might slice into you next?" I asked.
Maeve laughed. "Oh, I am going to love playing games with you, Sir Knight. But first things first. You have no choice but to act. If you do not, millions of your fellow mortals will perish. In the end, you will act to protect them. That is what you are."
"Lady Maeve has a point," Lily said, with evident reluctance. "There is very little time. I understand your trepidation about the consequences of Mab's . . . passing . . . but we have little choice. She is simply too dangerous to be allowed to continue."