Revelry

by Chani Feener

  “You’re seriously reaching here,” she drawled, but had to admit, she was a little bit comforted by his statement. “People start liking mushrooms after hating them their whole childhood. They don’t develop the ability to see in the dark or get super strength.”

  “You can see in the dark?” he asked, clearly impressed, and then waved his hand when her eyes narrowed. “Not the point. Okay.”

  “Look,” she rested her elbows on the table, “I appreciate you guys sticking around all this time, trying to help me find a way to reverse this, I do. But I don’t want to be responsible for you or all the many shitty things that can happen because you all refuse to leave.”

  Eskel frowned. “What are you saying, Arden?”

  She inhaled slowly. “You should go back to California. Convince Cole to return to New York and take Tabby with him. I’ll be fine here on my own, knowing that you three are at least safe and far away from this mess.”

  He eyed her for a moment, then looked away to stare out the window at the bright afternoon light. “The Unseelie are everywhere, you know that.”

  “But the Midnight Prince is here,” she reminded him, then corrected, “Midnight King now, I think. It doesn’t matter. Mavek is more dangerous than the lot of them, more so, apparently, now that the Erlking is gone.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’s been promoted, I guess. He doesn’t have to listen to Titania anymore; it seems like they’re on even ground.”

  “Shouldn’t that be a good thing?” He shrugged when her brow furrowed. “Think about it. Mavek is awful, and I despise him, but he’s got one good quality, and that’s that he loves you. Despite what happened to Cole and Tabby last night, him being able to stand against Titania works in our favor.”

  When she remained skeptical, he sighed.

  “He’s trying to please you, Arden,” he said. “He wants back in your good graces. This actually leads into something I wanted to talk to you about. Mavek is desperate, and desperate people make mistakes. I think we can use that to our advantage, and the fact that we no longer have to worry about the Queen of Fae getting in our way is a plus.”

  “She’s still a threat,” Arden corrected, though her interest was piqued. “But continue.”

  “After weeks of looking, there are still only two things we know for certain work against Unseelie, right?”

  She nodded. “Iron and their names.”

  “Exactly.” He tapped the end of his plastic spork against the table, hard enough it almost snapped. The sound drew the attention of other students again, and he smiled at them apologetically until they all looked away once more. “None of us are strong enough to use iron against him, not even you with your increasing strength and fighting skills.”

  “Which Mavek taught me,” she pointed out. Even if she did continue to grow stronger, she’d never get the upper hand with him. He knew her every move, could predict what she was going to do next before she’d even realized herself. Physically fighting him like that would only piss him off, and then he’d more than likely take his anger out on her friends.

  “That leaves us just one option,” Eskel stated, holding her gaze pointedly.

  She blinked at him, taking an embarrassingly long time to catch up. When she finally did, her frown deepened.

  “I don’t know his true name.” He’d told her many things during their time together, but that tidbit hadn’t been one of them. She’d jokingly threatened to use it against him a time or two, but they’d both known there’d been no weight behind her words since that was one secret he’d kept close to heart.

  “Is there anyone else who might?” Eskel prompted.

  “Cato, maybe,” she said, already in the process of shaking her head, “but I can already tell you this is a bad idea. It won’t work.”

  “Why not?”

  “Using an Unseelie’s true name only forces them to speak the truth. I can’t order him to change me back or anything—” She stopped, realizing that he already knew all of this, and would have considered that fact before bothering to present her with this plan. “You don’t mean for me to try and forcefully get him to do that, do you?”

  “No,” Eskel clarified. “If you get his true name, all you have to do is ask him two questions. Two, Arden, and we can fix all of this.”

  “Is there a way to reverse what he did to me,” she caught on, “and if so, what is it.”

  “Exactly!” he exclaimed. “This could work. We’re making no progress on our own because we’re combing through information created by other humans. If we want the truth, we have to go straight to the source.”

  “And we can’t just ask Cato or Brix to tell us,” she said, “because if they were willing to put in that much help, they would have by now.”

  “Honestly, they might not even know themselves,” Eskel suggested. “We’ve read about mortals being turned fae by eating various foods and potions, but we’ve yet to find a single account of them turning back to human.”

  “Maybe there isn’t one.” It’s what everyone had been telling her.

  “Maybe it’s just not common knowledge.” He rested his hand over hers on the table, thumb brushing over her knuckles lightly. Arden stared down at where they touched, didn’t pull away.

  “Whether there is a way or there isn’t,” Eskel continued, “we can figure it all out if we just get Mavek’s true name.”

  “How?” That wasn’t exactly something the fae went around offering up. A true name was so powerful it was rumored they were only uttered out loud once, when the fae was born. Mavek was a regent, his name had to hold more worth than most. He wouldn’t risk himself by sharing it with anyone. “Cato probably doesn’t even know, and he’s the only one I can think of who would.”

  “It can’t hurt to find out,” he said. “Think about it, Arden. It’s been almost a month and this is the first real plan we’ve come up with. We have to give it a shot.”

  “Asking to find out a faerie’s true name is like asking the sky to pour on a cloudless day, Eskel.” It was an idea, and one that could work, but she couldn’t really call it a good one. Really, it was just another shot in the dark, and she was getting tired of relying on those. “If I let on that his true name is what I’m after, and it somehow gets back to Mavek…”

  It would be even worse if he discovered that it had been Eskel who’d thought it up.

  “Cato got you all out of there last night, didn’t he?” he reminded her. “That’s not the first time he’s come to the rescue.”

  “That doesn’t mean he can be trusted. At the end of the day, he’s Mavek’s faerie. His loyalty is to Mavek first and foremost. If he’s helped us in the past, it’s only because he believed he could get away with it without pissing off his regent. But this? If he does know Mavek’s true name and he tells us, there’s no escaping the consequences. He will be killed.”

  The Unseelie didn’t hesitate in doling out punishment or dispatching their own. There’d be no lengthy trial, no cushy prison cell or “humane” ending if he was found guilty. However they decided to kill him, it would be painful and slow. Arden was sure of that.

  “I’ve known him practically my whole life,” she said, thinking back to the first time they’d met when Cato had appeared like a knight in a story, chasing off the tiny redcaps who’d been picking on her outside her elementary school. “We were friends, until Mavek showed up. Once he did, Cato was too afraid to be that familiar and kept his distance. He’s only recently started hanging around me again.”

  “And you don’t want to repay that by risking his life,” Eskel figured. “What if it’s the only way out of this?”

  She could ask him, sure. In secret, in a place where she was positive there was no chance of anyone overhearing. But would it matter? Even though Cato was one of his most trusted, she highly doubted Mavek had trusted him with that.

  “What if…” she nibbled on her bottom lip, momentarily unsure if she even wanted to voice what she was consideri
ng. “What if I asked him for it myself?”

  Eskel blinked at her. “Huh?”

  “Mavek. Like you said, he’s trying to get me to forgive him.” Had even offered something as insane as letting her keep Eskel around. “What if I convinced him this was the way to do that?”

  “Weren’t you just saying my part of this plan was crazy?” Eskel turned her hand around so that he could place his palm in hers. “Let’s just start with Cato, okay? Give that a shot before we dive off the deep end. I don’t want…” He glanced away sheepishly. “I don’t like it when you’re with him, Arden. And this… It wouldn’t be easy to get him to trust you with something like that. Who even knows what you’d have to do in order to—” he cut himself off.

  She was too busy staring at their hands to really listen, mind focused on the feel of him. On how her heart seemed to pitter patter in her chest. This was why she’d been willing to give up on Mavek, she remembered suddenly. Eskel gave her something the Unseelie never had.

  Honesty. Even when it embarrassed him to do so.

  Glancing up, she saw that his cheeks were stained pink and he couldn’t meet her gaze. It shouldn’t have been endearing, his willingness to put himself out there, and yet it was. She didn’t deserve it.

  “I still have feelings for him,” she whispered, watching him closely, “even after everything he’s done. Doesn’t that disgust you?”

  He tore his eyes away from the window, hand tightening around hers. “No. Of course not.”

  She wanted to believe him, but…

  He must have read her expression because he shifted forward in his seat, bringing himself closer to her. “I crossed the country in search of a brother I believed was a ghost, Arden. I know how stubborn love can be, how hard it is to loosen its hold, despite how much you wish it gone.”

  “That kind of love isn’t the same,” she began, but he merely shook his head.

  “How is it different?”

  “You two were family.”

  He gave her a pointed look. “For the past year, Mavek’s been your family. We both know that. He was more than just someone you were attracted to, Arden. When you had no one else, he was there for you. That kind of connection, even after discovering it was built on a lie, isn’t easy to break. It shouldn’t be. So there’s nothing wrong with you struggling to let go. I don’t blame you for it.”

  “Eskel.”

  “I don’t like it,” he added. “I want you to be with me. Nothing’s changed for me since that night I told you as much. I meant what I said then. I just want you to think about it. Think about whether or not I could be who you want.”

  “What if I turn into one of them permanently?” She hated how lost she sounded, how fragile, but if he could show weakness in front of her, she could return the favor.

  He paused as if thinking about it, but when he spoke, it was clear that he’d already thought about that possibility and made a decision on it long ago.

  “It might be fun,” he said, “having a faerie for a girlfriend.”

  Arden sipped her caramel macchiato as she read through her English History notes, highlighting the parts she’d spaced out on during this morning’s lecture. She’d jotted them all down on autopilot, and now it was like reading the material for the first time.

  Willow’s Brew, the local coffee shop, was partially filled by other students from both the college and the high school. A steady din filled the space––hushed voices, soft laughter, the clinking of mugs and silverware––lulling Arden into a comfortable state. That, and the fact that the past few days since the crowning had been relatively uneventful, lowered her guard. So she didn’t even notice the Unseelie until the girl slid into the other seat at Arden’s bistro table. They’d met once before, at one of Mavek’s revelries. The faerie had long, silky black hair with bright red tips. Her wide, almost doe-like eyes masked the deadly creature within.

  “Twila,” Arden greeted her, “right?”

  “You remember.”

  “We have similar styles.” She motioned to her own hair, a dark brown laced through with shots of green. When the faerie’s eyes hardened, Arden sighed. “Not a friendly visit I see.”

  “What about Victor,” Twila asked, as if Arden hadn’t spoken at all. “Do you remember him as well?”

  It was kind of hard to forget someone you killed, especially when that someone burst into leaves. She felt a lingering twinge of guilt, but shoved it aside. She’d had no choice; it’d been either him or Tabby.

  “He tried to stop me,” she said, subtly gripping the pen in her hand. She definitely couldn’t draw a blade in a crowded place like this, but if she had to, she wasn’t above stabbing the other girl with a V5 black ink Pilot. “I’m sorry that it happened the way it did.”

  “You may have been let off the hook for what happened to the Erlking,” Twila growled, “but the Midnight King can’t protect you forever. You will pay for what you did to Victor.”

  Arden knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help herself, easing over the table slightly to say in mock conspiracy, “Is this the part where you add, ‘in blood’?”

  Twila lashed out, hand flashing forward, her sharp nails extended. She hissed when Arden grabbed her wrist with the same speed, letting out a low cry when she twisted it.

  “I’m not as weak as I look,” Arden said darkly, her fingers digging into the Unseelie’s flesh.

  “My, my, what do we have here?” Cato sauntered up to their table suddenly, glancing between the two of them. He tsked and shook his head, sending the silver earring in his right ear swishing with the movement. “Looks like you’ve bitten off more than you can chew, Twila. Perhaps now is a good time to let bygones be bygones, no?”

  Arden let go when Twila tugged her arm free and shot to her feet, glaring the whole time. As the Unseelie turned to leave, she called out, halting her. “For what it’s worth, I really am sorry about Victor,” she told her, hoping her sincerity came across. Once she was sure that she’d captured the Unseelie’s attention, she deepened her tone. “I don’t want to have to do something like that ever again.”

  Twila stiffened, then pushed her way past Cato, disappearing from the shop as quickly as she’d come.

  “Threatening people already,” he dropped down into the newly vacated seat. “What they say about power going to your head really must be true.”

  “Shut up.” Arden didn’t have the energy for this. She still had five pages of notes to go through, and exams were next week. “I’ve got a lot of studying here, so say what you came to say and get lost.”

  “Ouch.” He lifted his lip at her in a partial sneer. “What if I didn’t come to say anything? I was merely passing by and I happened to glance in and catch the show. Thought maybe you could use my help.”

  “Nope.”

  “I got that fairly quickly,” he agreed with a brief chuckle, before sobering. He glanced at the hand she’d used to stop Twila. “How long has your strength been at that level?”

  “Don’t know,” she admitted. “I don’t really monitor it.” She didn’t want to believe she was actually changing, in all honesty. “Why?”

  “I always wondered why your change was taking so long,” he said, but he spoke so softly, it was almost like he was talking to himself. “It’s not going as slow as I’d assumed though.”

  “What do you mean?” In the stories she’d read, the way a human turned into a faerie was almost always slightly different. Sometimes it happened overnight; other times it took days, if not weeks. Arden had just assumed she’d fallen into that latter category. Not everything on the Internet could be taken at face value. Even the books they’d consulted weren’t completely reliable. The topic was folklore and mythology, after all.

  “Hmm?” Cato met her gaze, recalling himself and shaking his head. “Nothing.”

  She thought about pushing him, but it didn’t seem important enough at the moment. Instead, she twirled the pen in her hand and pretended not to care about what he’d been
talking about.

  “Actually, there’s something else I’d like to ask you, since you’re here anyway,” she said, taking a quick peek around to make sure no other fae lingered in the coffee shop. “It’s about Mavek.”

  His eyes immediately narrowed in suspicion. “This seems dangerous.”

  She thought so too, but she couldn’t let that deter her. Despite promising Eskel she’d give it a try, she still didn’t believe it was going to get them anywhere. It would be a good plan… if it had a chance of actually working. Unfortunately, true names weren’t something one scrawled on a stone and tossed into a river. At least then there’d be a way to discover it.

  “Only if you lie,” she said, unable to hold back a smirk when he was clearly affronted by her words.

  “Don’t think to threaten me now, Arden. You won’t like the results,” he told her, but she merely waved a hand in the air.

  “Relax, Cato. I might not like it, but the fact of the matter is you’re one of the few faeries I actually trust. To an extent, anyway.” That was more than she could say about pretty much the rest of his species. “I wish you’d stop following me around—”

  “That’s for your own safety.”

  She paused, thinking about her conversation with Mavek. “So I’ve been told.”

  “Things are…” His brow furrowed as he struggled with his next words. In the end, he merely said, “The world has grown a lot more complicated. Precautions must be taken.”

  He didn’t have to mention the Erlking for her to understand that was what he was referring to.

  “I thought the tithe was accepted?” Her hand twitched toward her phone resting on the table next to her notebook, the need to check on Tabby momentarily overtaking her better judgment.

  Of course, Cato caught her gaze. “Tabitha is safe. They aren’t coming for her.”

  “Then how do you know there’s a problem?”

  “I didn’t say there was.”