Revelry

by Chani Feener

  If Ainsley hadn’t left, she would have been used against Arden in the Tithe. The memory triggered an influx of haunting images from that night, and she squeezed her hands into fists under the table, trying to get ahold of herself. She didn’t want to think about that night, not when she and Eskel were having such a good time. The ring on his finger winked as he reached for his glass, and Arden tried not to grimace.

  Someone with that same ring was going to stab her, and she still had no idea who that person was. She’d considered asking some of the Unseelie for help, but even if she went to Cato, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t blab to Mavek, and Mavek could never know. The second he discovered what the Erlking had shown her, he’d get rid of everyone who owned one of those rings, including Eskel and Cole.

  Arden didn’t want to die, but she trusted that neither of her friends would ever hurt her. Which meant she had to figure out who the culprit was on her own. Fortunately, she’d yet to meet any others who used to serve the Erlking. If and when she did, she’d worry about the vision then.

  They went back to eating for a few minutes before Eskel cleared his throat and asked, “So how long have you been able to do stuff like that? The whole… telekinesis thing?”

  “I turned the coffee maker on without touching it the first week after the Tithe,” she confessed. “You and Cole were in the other room, and I was so shocked that I just needed to pretend it hadn’t happened for a while. When the remote to the TV slid across the couch cushions straight into my hands a few days later, it was kind of hard to keep denying.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything to me?”

  “I don’t know,” she said truthfully.

  “What else can you do?” He sipped his soda. “You’re stronger now, right? What about faster?”

  She nodded. “I haven’t tested it out or anything, but yes to both. It’s not like, crazy. I’m not Superwoman or the Flash, but I’m a lot stronger now than an average human.”

  He searched her face quietly. “Arden, we all trust you. You’re not going to hurt us.”

  “How did you guess that was my biggest fear?”

  “I think I know you pretty well by now,” he bragged, stealing another fry and leaning back in his chair. He turned to look out over the food court, humor dropping away when he spotted something. Arden tracked the direction of his gaze, eyes narrowing when she saw what he was looking at.

  Beneath one of the square tables in the center of the room sat a fir darrig. He was hunched over the sneakers of a little boy, maybe age four or five, and was busily tying his shoelaces together.

  “Hey!” Arden kept her voice firm, although she was careful not to raise it too high. “Unseelie!”

  The fae stilled, twisting his head around to look at her over his shoulder. When their eyes met, his own widened, and he dropped the shoelaces in shock. Arden crooked a finger at him, waiting while he debated his next course of action. In the end, he must have decided it was worth checking out if she was a faerie like him or a sighted human, because he scurried out from beneath the table and hobbled over to them.

  He couldn’t be taller than one of the penguins they’d seen earlier, the top of his head not quite level with the table. He stopped a few feet away, wrinkled face tipping up so he could maintain eye contact.

  She grabbed a couple of fries and held them out to him, smiling lightly when he hesitated. “It’s not a trap, just some free food.”

  The Unseelie wrung his hands and smacked his lips, then darted forward in a blur of motion that shocked Eskel enough that he jolted in his seat. Neither she nor the fir darrig paid him any mind. Once he was holding the fries in his wizened hands, he retreated again, nibbling on one of them as he did.

  “Do me a favor,” Arden said, “whatever the kid did, forgive him and let it go.”

  The Unseelie nodded his head, still munching away.

  “And,” she propped her arm on the table and leaned closer, making her expression stern, “don’t pick on human children again.”

  He blinked at her, shock returning so his mouth momentarily hung open. Then, his eyes glazed over a bit and he nodded vehemently again.

  Arden took one of the onion rings and tossed it at him, which the Unseelie caught easily. “Thanks.”

  He didn’t wait for her to say anything else, merely spun on his heels and rushed across the food court and out the door just as a woman happened to tug it open from the outside. His round body brushed against her legs, but she didn’t feel it.

  “I guess that was bordering on polite,” Eskel said once it was just the two of them again, and when she frowned, added, “your voice got kind of scary there for a second. I hope he’s not going to take offense and stalk us all the way home.”

  She hadn’t realized; she’d thought she was pretty nice all around. “It should be fine. He didn’t seem angry.”

  Hopefully that was true. They had enough fae to worry about.

  “Anyway,” Eskel ate the last bite of his burger, “what should we look at next?”

  “Definitely the octopus,” she answered, and got back to finishing off the rest of her food.

  The walk to that section of the aquarium didn’t take long, just a brisk walk in the opposite direction of the outside exhibits. They entered the building and headed down a carpeted ramp, passing a group of school children all dressed in matching neon-green shirts.

  “I think it’s this way,” Arden said once they’d stopped in the center, which branched off in four different directions. There were small plaques labeled with different species to indicate the main attraction of each hall. The sign to their left had the word “tunnel” etched on it, along with a small silhouette of an octopus. Eskel glanced at where she was pointing and nodded before taking the lead. They entered and turned the corner, coming to a pause in the doorway.

  The tunnel had been built underwater, so that the walkway was completely submerged. It stretched and curved to the left, so they couldn’t see the end or how far the path went, and all around them sea creatures glided and swam. Since five people could comfortably fit shoulder to shoulder, they spread out as they stepped inside, both drawn to opposite sides first.

  Arden watched a sea turtle as long as her arm skate by a rocky section within the glass, and trailed after it a few feet before it suddenly twisted and swam away, disappearing as it traveled deeper into the tank. A shadow passed by overhead and she glanced up, eyes widening slightly when she spotted the sandy underbelly of a shark.

  “It’s always interesting to me how they can cohabitate,” Eskel said, stepping up to her side. He was watching the shark now as well, only dropping his gaze once it’d completed its pass above them. “I’d be terrified if I lived with sharks.”

  She snorted before she could help it, shrugging the reaction away when he raised a questioning brow at her. They lived with Unseelie. Wasn’t that basically the same thing?

  She wandered off, and the two of them settled into a momentary silence. Around them, light flickered through the water, casting the tunnel in a serene mixture of brightness and shadow. There were more fish and species than she could count. She couldn’t recall if this section of the aquarium had been there when she’d been a kid––tried to picture a kid version of her sister standing with her face pressed against the glass.

  A single woman appeared from around the bend, nodding her head to them once before exiting the way they’d come, leaving them alone once more. It was oddly peaceful, until Eskel thrust an arm out to the side, breaking the tranquil pace they’d been keeping.

  “These two are fighting over food.” He motioned her next to him, and curiosity had her stepping close. “At least, I think its food.”

  Two bright yellow fish with iridescent stripes on their sides were twisting around one another, mouths both going at a small circular bit of something orange. Neither seemed willing to lose, and every time one would snatch it away, the other became even more aggressive.

  “I’ll take this one,” Eskel pointe
d toward the one on the right, who had a slightly larger snout than the other.

  “Are we betting on fish now?” She rolled her eyes.

  The two of them huddled closer to get better looks at the two small fish as they continued to war over the piece of food. At one point Arden’s fish dropped it, mouth flapping as the morsel began floating toward the sand-covered bottom, only for Eskel’s fish to swoop in and grab it seconds before it touched the ground.

  “What does the winner get?” he asked as both fish swam back up with the food to continue their fight.

  “You’re only asking that now because you think you’ll win,” Arden chuckled, shoving at him lightly, pretending to try and take his spot in front of the tank. He laughed, his hip bumping into her as he tried to regain his territory, the momentum causing her to trip over her own feet a bit. Without skipping a beat, he wrapped his arms around her, steadying her next to him, eyes still on the yellow fish. He didn’t remove his hand on her waist.

  “Look, look!” Eskel’s grip on her tightened, his fish having successfully grabbed the food and swimming furiously away. Arden’s fish tailed him for a brief moment before giving up, lazily twirling in a half circle before slowly moseying in the opposite direction.

  “Knew he could do it,” Eskel joked, finally tearing his attention away to meet her gaze. All at once, he seemed to realize how closely they were standing, and how he was holding her, and he stilled. Their faces were very close to one another, only a breath or two apart, and she was pressed snuggly against his side.

  “Your eyes kind of look like coffee,” he murmured, and, as far as compliments went, that wasn’t half bad.

  “I like coffee.” She almost cringed at her own words. Stupid.

  He laughed, and she felt his fingers flex around her hip. His eyes dropped to her mouth, and without meaning to, she shifted slightly onto the tips of her toes, almost like her body was angling to accept a kiss. And maybe her instincts were right, because she could have sworn that he started leaning in closer, his lips just about to touch hers when—

  The sound of pounding footsteps and the raucous laughter of a child burst their bubble. A boy came racing around the corner, arms flailing and wide grin in place. He couldn’t be older than two, still a bit wobbly on his feet. A second later, his mother came into view, clearly stressed. When she noticed that she and her son weren’t alone, she gave them an apologetic look and grabbed her kid. She whispered to him about the dangers of running off alone as she headed for the exit.

  The interruption had caused them to pull apart, and she felt a bit nervous when they were alone again but she met his gaze. He looked into her eyes, the corner of his mouth tipping up in a half smile, and stretched his hand out to her to close the distance.

  “You heard her,” he said, confidently. “It’s dangerous to be alone. We wouldn’t want to get separated.”

  Arden hesitated. He sounded so earnest, and she got the distinct feeling that he wasn’t just making a joke. But a heartbeat later, her body seemingly moved on its own, and she found herself reaching out, clasping her hand in his. His fingers tightened around hers, smile broadening, and then he tugged her next to him and angled his head toward the bend in the path. “Let’s go see that octopus now.”

  Arden was grateful for the way the water distorted the light all around them because she was pretty sure she was blushing.

  Arden was still thinking about their trip to the aquarium a few days later. It was starting to get too cold for her to be riding her bike around town, but she’d stubbornly taken it out this morning anyway. In the past, Mavek would have offered her a car for the winter, but there was no way she was going to accept something like that from him now. She was going to have to figure something out on her own. The town was small enough she could get to most places on foot, but with temperatures dropping, how much longer was she going to want to do that?

  She had the day off and was on her way to Howl’s when Cole texted asking her to stop by. Tabby was on shift, and he suggested they take advantage of the slow traffic at the store to comb through a few more books that he’d recently acquired.

  As she pedaled through town, Arden debated whether or not she wanted to tell them to just forget the whole thing. She’d realized they weren’t going to be able to find anything on their own, and Eskel’s idea was still the best any of them had come up with. Despite what everyone else had been telling her, Arden wasn’t ready to accept defeat and give up…. However… she was pretty sure there was no way she was going to discover Mavek’s true name.

  She was also tired. Tired of all the meet-ups that went nowhere, and the guilt she felt every time she made her friends stick around the library until closing hours. What was the point of wasting their time like that if they weren’t going to find anything?

  Not to mention, if the Midnight King found out she was asking about something as dangerous as his true name… She didn’t know how he’d react. Right now, he was playing it safe, still trying to win Arden over. Would that change if he knew she was willing to discover and use something so dangerous against him? An Unseelie’s biggest weakness––aside from iron––was his true name. That knowledge would make her a threat, and threats against someone who lived forever were taken seriously to prevent any future attacks.

  Arden rode her bike up to the side of Howl’s and sighed as she hit the brakes. As badly as she wanted to pursue this—it was her only option—she also had to admit that Cato was right to warn her off it. What if she just ended up putting her friends in greater danger?

  She snapped her bike lock into place and pulled her coat tighter as she walked to the front door. The bell jingled when she opened it but no one came out to greet her. She headed for the employees-only section, and down the short hallway to the storage room. After advancing only a few feet, she picked up on voices, slowing when she heard one of them say her name.

  “You’re being ridiculous,” Cole said from somewhere within the room. He sounded tired. “Arden isn’t like that. I only asked how you really felt because I thought for sure we were on the same page.”

  “You left her,” Tabby’s voice came next, sharper than his, “I didn’t. I’ve known her the longest, and I like her the way she is. Excuse me for not wanting her to change, especially when that change is into something other than human. Are you forgetting what they’re like?”

  Arden felt her blood go cold and she came to a complete stop a few feet away from the open door.

  “The Unseelie are monsters,” Tabby continued, completely unaware they now had an audience, “every last one of them.”

  “Are you afraid she’s going to abandon us for them? Come on, Tab.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “What are you saying exactly?”

  “Why are you attacking me all of a sudden?” she demanded. “How am I the bad guy here for not wanting my best friend to turn into a monster?”

  Arden sucked in a breath, clasping a hand over her mouth a second too late. For a moment, their voices quieted and she feared they’d heard her, but then Cole sighed loudly and made a tsking sound.

  “That’s cold, cousin.”

  Tabby was silent for a beat and then mumbled, “Whatever. Are you going to help me sort this stuff or what?”

  Before she realized it, Arden had turned on her heels and rushed back down the hall and into the main store. She pushed the door open with more force than necessary, the bell clanging behind her. Unlocking her bike, she shoved the lock into her jacket pocket, half of it still hanging out. She rode away from the store with no real destination in mind, unable to feel the sharp sting of icy air against her cheeks or the way her lungs burned with every inhale.

  Tabitha’s words kept repeating over and over in her mind as she moved farther and farther from Howl Books. The way she’d sneered the word monster was like an echo in Arden’s brain, banging against her skull so loudly it caused tears to prick the corners of her eyes.

  They’d told her that they’d
accept her no matter what. They’d said it didn’t matter. From the sound of it, Cole hadn’t been lying, and after what had happened with the saltshaker, Arden knew Eskel hadn’t been either but…

  Tabitha was her oldest friend. She couldn’t recall a time when they hadn’t known each other. She’d thought for sure, out of all of them, Tabby was the one who would stand by her for real. She’d believed her without question when she’d said it didn’t matter if they couldn’t stop Arden’s change.

  She’d been lied to. Again. Somehow it hurt just as much as when she’d discovered Mavek’s first lie, though it stung in a different way.

  Tabby had been with her the first time she’d skinned her knee, and that time she and Ainsley had fought over who got the biggest chocolate chip cookie, even though they all knew Ainsley didn’t even like them. When Arden’s dad had died, Tabby had been there to hold her while she cried. Same when her mom had passed. They’d cursed Cole together when he’d left, Tabby calling her cousin all sorts of names in solidarity.

  The Unseelie are monsters, every last one.

  It was what Arden had thought to herself, many times over the past few weeks, in the dead of night when she was alone with her thoughts. It was what she dreaded most––that she’d turn into something evil and manipulative. That she’d do something to hurt the people she cared about the most.

  She pushed herself until her thighs burned and she was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, despite the dropping temperature. She rode until she was all the way on the old side of town, speeding through winding roads, past houses large enough to fit three generations of people comfortably. She’d gone on autopilot, so that when she finally came out of it enough to realize where she was, she feared she’d look up and find herself at Rose Manor. Instead, she came to a screeching halt when she realized she was in front of her old house. The one she’d grown up in. The one she and Tabby had played in as children.

  The porch light was on, and for a moment she didn’t notice, too caught up in the swirl of mixed memories, all vying for attention at once. But then she saw that the front door was also ajar, and she frowned. The place had been purchased, but as far as she knew the owners had never moved in. Even now, there wasn’t a single car in the long driveway. No other lights were on inside the large two-story either, just the one over the porch and the one in the foyer.