Revelry

by Chani Feener

  Arden let her bike drop onto the curb and moved across the front yard stealthily. She kept her gaze on the crack that allowed her to see into the house, waiting for any signs of movement. When she’d made it all the way up onto the porch and was standing directly before the door, she lifted a hand, hesitating, with her fingers brushing against the painted red wood.

  What was she doing? This wasn’t her home anymore––hadn’t been for many years––and she’d never come here like this in the past. Clearly someone was here, even if she couldn’t see any vehicles. Maybe the people who bought the house were finally moving in and had simply forgotten to lock up behind them. If she went in now, it’d be trespassing….

  As if with a mind of its own, her hand moved, easing the door open wider to expose the polished wooden staircase that led up to the second floor. That’s where her and Ainsley’s bedrooms had been.

  “Hello?” she called out, listening as her voice pinged around the wide-open space.

  There was no reply.

  Tentatively, she crossed the threshold, pausing just inside the doorway to stare to her left at the entranceway that once led to their sitting room. The lights were off but her eyes adjusted quickly, and she was able to pick up the outlines of furniture covered in sheets and the empty mantel over the fireplace. She’d never been able to see that well in the dark before.

  The Unseelie are monsters.

  Swallowing the bile that threatened to rise up her throat, Arden turned away to the right, stepping into what used to be their dining room area. The space had been completely cleared—her mom had taken the table to the house Arden currently lived in—so there was nothing but four blank walls and a lot of empty space. She tried to picture what it’d been like before, the room filled with the table and chairs and the large oval mirror her mom had loved so much. Vividly, she recalled their last Thanksgiving together as a family, when an overly excited Ainsley had bumped into their dad, causing him to slip and nick himself with the carving knife. The wound hadn’t been deep, and she’d cried about it more than he had.

  “You’re smiling,” the smooth voice drifted in from her left, pulling her from the memory. He stood off to the side in the doorway that led into the kitchen, partly obscured by shadows, and even her advanced eyesight couldn’t make out all of him. He tipped his head. “Hello, heart.”

  “Mavek.” All at once, the rush of adrenaline left her. She was exhausted and her body felt like lead. “I’m too tired to fight with you tonight.”

  “I didn’t come for that,” he said.

  “Why are you here at all?” She rubbed at her temple and tried to pull herself together enough so that he couldn’t tell she’d been crying on her way here. The last thing she needed was for him to find out what she’d overheard Tabby say. For him to tell her “I told you so” and try to convince her, yet again, that he was all she had.

  That he was all she’d ever really had.

  Mavek glanced around the room as if inspecting it and stepped forward. “I come here sometimes. To think.”

  “Why?” She let her confusion show, glad that it would help hide her sadness from earlier.

  His gaze swept back to hers. “I own it.”

  “You what?”

  He took another step closer. “I bought this house a while ago. I bought it for you.”

  When the bills had piled up and she’d almost lost the house she currently lived in, he’d been the one to help her settle the debt. But he’d never mentioned this place to her, not once, not even in passing.

  “You left town the other day,” he continued when she took too long to reply. “Where did you go?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  He hummed in the back of his throat. “I suppose it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me. We’ve all got our secrets.”

  “It’s not a secret,” she insisted, clenching her hands into fists at her sides as he slowly moved closer. “It just doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

  She no longer had a reason to keep her time with Eskel a secret from anyone, not anymore. She wasn’t a Heartless and she wasn’t breaking any rules. Still, she didn’t elaborate.

  “What about what the Erlking showed you that night?”

  She paused. If she thought letting him know she’d gone on a date would put Eskel in danger, telling Mavek about the death vision in which a person wearing the Erlking’s ring stabbed her would be worse.

  “I told you,” she lifted a shoulder, not sure if she pulled off the nonchalance, “it was nothing. I don’t even remember.”

  “You seem tired, Arden,” he said, dropping the subject.

  The conversation she’d overheard at Howl’s was still fresh in her mind. Coupled with the fact that she’d ridden her bike here in forty-some degree weather and was already mentally drained seeing him, tired was an understatement.

  “You should get some rest,” he suggested. “Come to the manor. I’ll send everyone else away.”

  Since his home acted as his castle in many ways, it wasn’t uncommon for it to be packed with fae. He’d ordered the place clear for her benefit before, on a couple of different occasions, but that’d been when she was his Heartless. Right now, he was protecting her for other reasons, and the rest of his people knew it.

  She’d considered mentioning Twila, yet decided against it. She’d told Mavek she wouldn’t go to him for help again, and she could handle the disgruntled Unseelie on her own. At least, she was pretty sure she could, if what had happened at Willow’s was any indication.

  “That’s a hard pass,” she said.

  “Stop being so stubborn; you’ll only hurt yourself more in the end.”

  “I’m going to go,” she took a step back toward the foyer; “I don’t know why I came here in the first place.”

  He canted his head. “I called you.”

  “What?” That gave her pause, the ground seemingly dropping out from under her, because he could only mean magically.

  The candied roses he’d tricked her into eating, the ones that were turning her from human to fae, also linked the two of them in ways she still didn’t quite understand. Partly because she was too much of a coward and didn’t want to know. Mostly because she’d been too afraid to ask him.

  Mavek held out his right hand, one corner of his mouth tipping up in a half smirk. A car drove by outside, the headlights flashing through the bay window, causing his eyes to reflect. All of his tattoos were covered by black silk tonight, but if she thought about them, she knew exactly where each rose was located on his body.

  “I can summon you whenever I like, Arden,” he said. “You’ll come at my will, even if you don’t know that’s what you’re doing. You keep refusing to see me, and yet… here we are.”

  “More manipulation,” she concluded. “You’re insane if you think that’s going to help you convince me you’re sorry. The last thing I want is to be around someone I can’t trust.”

  “You’re mistaken,” he dropped his hand, slipping them both into his front pockets, “to think that I’m apologetic about anything. I don’t regret what I’ve done. It’s unfortunate that you’re hurting like this, but those feelings won’t last. You’ll move past your resentment and see that I was right in my choices. Anger clouds your judgment, that’s all.”

  “Don’t do that!” She thought of Tabby’s statement. “Don’t make it seem like I’m the one in the wrong here because I’m human. No matter who you are, or how you look at it, what you did was not okay, Mavek. How can you seriously think that it is?”

  The Unseelie are monsters.

  “How could you do this to me?!” She pounded a hand on her chest, not caring that it was childish, way past needing to seem mature and together in front of him. What did it matter anyway, if he could visibly see how broken she was? It wasn’t like he didn’t already know it.

  He knew everything about her.

  “You predicted it would be like this,” she continued, voice leveling some after her outbu
rst, “you had to have. You should know I can’t forgive you. That I won’t.”

  “Arden,” he sighed, “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. There is no reversing it.”

  “There are just as many stories about fae turning human as there are about humans turning fae,” she argued, though truthfully she wasn’t sure that was a legitimate fact. She’d only stumbled on a few herself. “Corrigans spend their lives trying to lure human men into falling in love with them, just so they can become human themselves. It’s got to be done somehow. And what about creatures like the fir darrig? Or—”

  “You aren’t going to turn into something like that,” he cut her off tersely. “You think I’d make you hideous?”

  “Wow.” It was all she could think of to say, though inwardly she had to admit that was a small comfort. Waking up with a tail, or wings, or webbed toes had been a reoccurring nightmare of hers, one she hadn’t even been able to tell Eskel about.

  “You might not be able to feel it,” he told her, eyes scanning her quickly, “but I do. You’re almost there already. You will become an Unseelie, Arden. It’s better to give into that truth now, and let me help you before you develop any skills you can’t handle.”

  “So you keep saying,” she drawled. What was the point in having the same conversation over and over again?

  “I’m telling you the truth.”

  “How can I possibly believe that?”

  “The problem here is that you don’t want to,” he replied tightly. “That’s always been your biggest flaw, heart. You have the sight, and yet you blind yourself to reality. You can’t be angry that I’ve used that to my advantage, especially if you aren’t willing to acknowledge and change it.”

  She frowned. “You keep making it sound like this is my fault.”

  “Maybe that’s because you aren’t the only one upset here, Arden. The first time we met, you asked me, ‘Did my mom do that because of the things we can see?’ and I answered, ‘Yes’. What part of that wasn’t truth?”

  “You made it seem like that was part of our curse,” she argued. “Or are you forgetting about the fact that afterwards, I asked if the same thing would happen to Ainsley and me?”

  “I remember everything,” he said softly. “Back then, I didn’t know how I would eventually feel about you. I wanted to use you to win the Tithe, so when I answered yes, that’s what I was referring to. Your curse was what made you agree to be my Heartless, therefore your curse would put you and your sister in the same position as your mother. I did not lie.”

  “You manipulated everything!”

  “And when I asked you if you wanted to be with me?” He took a step closer. “You told me you did. You said you loved me.”

  He reached for her and she slapped him away, but that didn’t deter him. Gently, he took her chin, undeterred when she tried to push at his wrist, using his strength to keep her from being able to.

  “I love you,” he told her. “I love you, and you said you loved me, so I did everything I could to ensure we could be together. Was that so wrong? It’s what you wanted, Arden.”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t want this.”

  Mavek stared down at her, searching her eyes for something. Whatever he found, he didn’t like it, releasing her and dropping his hand to his side. “You’d rather I left you human, mortal, and suffered your eventual death? When I thought about us together, I thought in terms of forever. You merely wanted a boyfriend for a few years. How is that not crueler than what I’ve done? How is you throwing me aside better than my trying desperately to cling on?”

  Her mouth opened, and at first nothing came out. She had to close it and try again, her shock palpable. “You’re doing it again, twisting things.”

  “How?” he demanded, eyes flashing. His hands fisted at his sides. “Tell me which part isn’t true.”

  It’d only been a week since the last time she’d seen him, yet somehow, she’d managed to forget. This was what made him so dangerous, not the supernatural speed or abilities, but his silver tongue. Because, in many ways, he was right. Even when he twisted it, the truth was still at the root of everything he said.

  “You were going to leave me,” he stated. “If I’d left you as you were, you were going to leave me eventually, whether by unnatural causes or old age.”

  “People die, Mavek. That’s what happens.”

  “Humans die,” he corrected, taking another step closer so that she had to tip her head all the way back to maintain eye contact, “but Unseelie can live forever. I gave you eternal life, with me, whom you claimed to love.”

  “You never asked if that’s what I wanted.” She felt bitter tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, didn’t fight against them. “I like being human.”

  He stepped back suddenly, almost as if she’d lashed out at him physically.

  “You wanted me to give up everything for us, but were unwilling to do the same. You thought to take my years, fill them up with you, but give none in return. You think what I’ve done is selfish; if you had your way, you’d use me up and leave me in sixty years at best, grieving and desperate and yearning. I may be able to change you physically, Arden Archer, but you’re right about one thing. Your love is very human.”

  “I could have warned you against getting entangled with a mortal heart, Midnight. If you’d only asked.” The new voice surprised them both, and with a blur of motion, Mavek repositioned himself in front of Arden, blocking her from whoever had just spoken.

  The newcomer was standing in the doorway between the dining room and the foyer, and when she peeked around Mavek’s arm, she was even more surprised to see it was Krit.

  “I have some secondhand experience with that,” Krit continued, now that he had their undivided attention, “if you recall.”

  It didn’t take a genius to realize he was referring to Brix and his relationship with Everett. Just how involved were Brix and Krit before for such bitterness to surface in his tone now, even after so many years?

  “What are you doing here?” Mavek asked, the warning in his voice clear. He didn’t move away from Arden, kept his back pressed against her front and his arms ready to block her.

  His reaction made her nervous. The King of Wonder hadn’t paid her any mind at the crowning ceremony, so Arden hadn’t thought much of him aside from mild curiosity about his past with the new Autumn Prince.

  “I was looking for you.” Krit filled up the entire entryway, neither relaxed nor threatening. “There are things we need to discuss.”

  “We can do so at the manor,” Mavek began only to have the other fae disagree.

  “It’s not just you this conversation is meant for.” He tipped his head to the side, catching Arden’s gaze with his own. When he smiled, his mouth stretched just a little too wide to be considered normal, and two sharp canines poked out from beneath his upper lip. “Hello, Arden Archer. I apologize for the interruption, though, from the looks of it, you should be thanking me for putting an end to what had to be an uncomfortable topic.”

  “Don’t speak to her,” Mavek growled, only to have Krit laugh boldly in his face.

  “Perhaps you’ve forgotten our stations, Midnight. You might be the highest-ranking Unseelie in this territory, but I am from another. We are on even ground, you and I. Act like it.”

  “She’s my—”

  Krit waved him off. “I am aware. Obviously. And that isn’t why I’m here. I have no intention of getting involved in your melodrama. This issue simply concerns the both of you, and so here I am. Really, it’s a favor I’m doing.”

  For a moment, Mavek was silent, and then, “If you think that makes us even for the past, it does not.”

  What happened between the two of them in the past?

  “You haven’t even heard what I have to say yet.”

  Arden gripped the back of his arm, tugging him a bit closer while moving more to his side to get a better view. If she didn’t cling to him, she knew he’d only force her to stay behin
d him, and she was curious about what Krit had to tell them. It took a lot to worry one of the fae, and a closer look at Krit showed that he was, in fact, worried about something.

  Mavek glanced down at her, clearly wanting to say something but held his tongue. Finally, he turned back to Krit, and gave a single curt nod for him to continue.

  “You know I still have connections to our home world,” he began, “spies who willingly feed me information. There’s been a big stir up here since the Tithe; many have traveled from far off places to get a look at your ever-changing mortal there.”

  They’d been aware more Unseelie were flooding into town. This wasn’t exactly news.

  “Unfortunately for you, your average fae aren’t the only ones curious.”

  “We haven’t heard anything,” Mavek pointed out. “If Herla hadn’t been accepted, surely we would have by now.”

  “There’s a reason for that,” Krit acknowledged. “They’ve been a bit busy. There’s revolt in the Underground, thanks to that little trick you pulled. I’ve been told the court’s a mess, and the youngest prince has seized this opportunity and is rallying against his oldest brother.”

  “What?” There was a thin layer of panic in Mavek’s tone now. “How?”

  “I don’t know the details,” he shrugged, “only that the Crown Prince wanted to reject Herla as the offering, and the youngest prince thought otherwise.”

  “Because an Unseelie doesn’t have a soul?” Arden asked, realizing too late she probably should have stayed quiet. Mavek tensed next to her, but Krit merely smiled.

  “It’s true the Erlking doesn’t possess a soul of his own, however, what you sent them was more than bountiful in that department. Didn’t Midnight tell you?” He canted his head at Mavek, eyes gleaming. “I’m sure you knew.”