Revelry

by Chani Feener

  Eskel let out a cry and she turned to see the male faerie slip past his defenses, landing a punch that split his lip, spraying a bit of blood as his head whipped to the side. Fear clouding her senses, Arden rushed toward him but Twila was already there, blocking her path.

  “He doesn’t have anything to do with this!” she cried, desperate to reach Eskel’s side.

  “He was there, wasn’t he?” Twila disagreed.

  A growl tore from her throat. Eskel had been unconscious when she’d killed Victor––he was in no way responsible for the events that transpired that night.

  “Kill him,” Twila ordered her companion, and Arden saw red.

  The room was small, not the best place for a fight, and Arden only had the one weapon. She knew she wouldn’t be able to make it past Twila in time to help Eskel. Instead, shifting on her feet, she switched the position of the dagger in her hand so that she now gripped the tip. Then she spun quickly, feinting right and Twila followed the motion, giving Arden a small window of space between her and her new target.

  She sent the dagger sailing, feeling a slight burst of satisfaction when it pierced right between the male Unseelie’s shoulder blades. She gestured frantically at Eskel, whose eyes were wide and panicked.

  “Use the iron!”

  He was still gripping it in his hand, and as the fae before him staggered, he quickly slammed the blade forward, straight through his chest. Twila made an alarmed sound a second before the male burst into a pile of decaying leaves. Both daggers dropped to the ground with a metallic thud.

  “No!” Twila screamed, eyes flashing with fury as she spun back on a now unarmed Arden. “He said we could do it! He said you wouldn’t be able to win! He promised!”

  She frowned, her mind racing to catch up. “He who?”

  Twila laughed, the sound maniac, and shook her head wildly. “You took out his ally and now he’s coming for you! Just you wait! He’s—”

  One second she was talking, and the next her mouth was gaping open and her eyes were glazing over. Within a heartbeat, her body had disintegrated into a stack of twigs that clattered to the floor. Blinking in shock at what had once been the faerie, Arden tore her gaze up and met the glistening eyes of the Unseelie she’d seen at the start of Brix’s crowning. “You.”

  He was standing directly behind where Twila’s body had been only a second ago. There was no weapon in his hand, but his fingers were curled.

  The faerie hadn’t needed a weapon in order to murder the other; his hands were enough.

  “You’ve met before?” Brix’s voice at her back had her spinning on her heels, almost tripping in the process. He filled up the doorway, slight frown painted across his face as he glanced between the two of them.

  “Once,” the fae stated, dusting his hands off as if killing Twila was the same as taking out the kitchen garbage. Tedious, and slightly dirty. “Briefly.”

  “Arden.” Eskel tried to take a step toward her but fell to the side instead, knocking the lamp off the nightstand. The bulb cracked and added to the scatter of broken glass. She started to move toward him, but Brix beat her to it. The faerie banded an arm tightly around his waist, pulling his arm over his shoulders to better support him, as if Eskel’s bulky body weighed no more than a feather.

  “He needs to sit down. We should move to the living room.”

  Arden nodded and stepped out of the way as Brix tried to move past, watching as they disappeared around the corner and down the hall. Her limbs felt like lead, weighing her down as the remaining fae stepped up beside her.

  “You’re bleeding rather profusely,” he pointed out, and she glanced down at her arm. There was a small puddle forming at her feet.

  “Who are you again?”

  He considered her carefully. “I believe the proper thing to do is thank me for my help.”

  “You’ll forgive me for skipping propriety and going straight for self-preservation,” she said. “For all I know, you’re a bigger threat than they were.”

  He grinned at her, dark blue eyes alighting. “I can’t blame you for that. I’m Krit’s newly appointed right-hand. You may or may not be seeing a lot of me.”

  She wasn’t quite sure how to take that, but she also wasn’t willing to leave Eskel alone with an Unseelie—even one she knew—so she left the issue alone. Uncomfortable though she was with turning her back to a stranger, she figured if he’d wanted to kill her he could have just left Twila to do the job.

  Eskel was seated in the center of the couch, pressing a folded hand towel to his lip. Blood soaked through the white fabric. She could see a large lump starting to form where his skull had rebounded off the wall from the faerie’s punch. When she bent down to try and catch his eyes, his vision seemed cloudy.

  “I don’t think you’re okay,” she said, wincing as she straightened and the tight material of her sweater tugged at her shoulder wound. She swayed and the unnamed Unseelie caught her.

  “You’re lucky we came by,” Brix told her, standing close to Eskel. His brow was furrowed and she would have laughed at how worried he looked if she hadn’t felt so dizzy.

  “Guess I’m still not strong enough to take on a few fae on my own, huh?” She tapped at the other faerie’s hands, which were still helping to hold her up. “Let go, I’m alright.”

  “You’re definitely not,” he disagreed.

  “Why are you two here anyway?”

  Brix shared a look with the guy and cleared his throat. “I was on my way to say goodbye when I overheard the Crown Prince is in town.”

  Had Krit not told him as much? Wasn’t that why he’d agreed to leave with him in the first place? At her look of confusion, he grunted. “I was not informed. If I had been, I would have come to deliver my warning sooner.”

  “What warning?” Suddenly, Twila felt like the least of her concerns.

  “If he’s here, the Crown Prince is probably very interested in you,” he told her. “Not many know this but Herla was his spy in this world. From what I understand, the Crown Prince fought hard to get him reinstated and waived as the Tithe offering. He wasn’t pleased when he was met with resistance and the rest of the council accepted the Erlking.”

  “As far as choices went,” the other faerie told her, “you picked a good one. Herla came with eight souls—not perfect, but still seven more than the Underground would have received had a regular Tithe been sent.”

  “As his sole link to what we do here,” Brix added, “the Crown Prince will not be as grateful as the rest of his people. If Krit had informed me sooner, I would have been able to warn both you and Mavek. If he really is here, Finch’s goal isn’t satiating mere curiosity.”

  “I took out his ally,” she mumbled, thinking back on Twila’s words.

  “Exactly. He’ll be looking for a new one, but I doubt he plans on leaving you alone in the meantime. More than likely, he’s out for revenge. There’s rumor of unrest in the Underworld due to all of this, and Finch isn’t on the winning side.”

  “Perfect.” There was a lot more that she had to say and ask, but almost as soon she spoke, the room started spinning and before she could do more, she passed out.

  “Shut up,” the words slipped past Arden’s lips, barely audible. She shifted her head against the soft pillow beneath her, trying desperately to float back into blissful unconsciousness. She was so tired; she just wanted to sleep. Whoever was pounding the door right now needed to be quiet. Immediately.

  She couldn’t make out what the person was saying—persons, actually, now that she was awake enough to notice—but she didn’t care. It was too early for this nonsense, and for the first time in weeks she’d been sleeping peacefully.

  “Silence them,” a deep voice commanded from within the room. Close. When he didn’t get an instant response, he added more firmly, “If you didn’t want to continue following orders, you should have accepted what I offered you, instead of passing it off to the Lutin. And don’t think I’m unaware that this is partially his fault
.”

  “If he hadn’t shown up,” came the reply, “she’d be in an even worse state than she currently is.”

  Cato—she recognized that smooth timbre now. She heard the swish of the door opening and then more shouts before it closed once more. Arden blinked her eyes open, sucking in a sharp breath at the florescent lights directly above her. She tried lifting her arm to block the light, but pain instantly assaulted her and she ended up gasping all over again. Hands pressed against her uninjured shoulder, pinning her back to the mattress when she would have struggled upright.

  The smell hit her first, so she was already prepared when she turned her head and met Mavek’s hazel eyes. His face hovered a mere few inches from hers, and he kept himself bent over the side of the bed, as if afraid she was going to try sitting up a second time.

  She’d stupidly thought she was in her bedroom back home, but now that she was fully awake, she realized with a start that it was actually a private hospital room. Shockingly white, the room had a sterile feel to it, and Arden squirmed under the hospital sheet that had been placed over her. The door off to the right was closed, and they were the only two there.

  “Twila—”

  “Dead,” he reassured her, moving to settle on the edge of the bed. His thumb started smoothing semi-circles over her collarbone, a poor attempt to comfort. “You suffered from blood loss and passed out. The doctor’s already patched you up and you’re on painkillers, but if you move too quickly you’ll pull at the stitches and it’ll hurt.”

  “Eskel.” She remembered the blood at the corner of his mouth and the lump at his temple.

  Mavek’s mouth thinned but he said, “He has a mild concussion. He’ll live.”

  “Where is he?” And why was Mavek here instead?

  “That was him who woke you,” Mavek told her. “He was pounding at the door and refused to go quietly. I sent Cato out to make him. He’s fine. You know the Puck wouldn’t do something to seriously upset you.”

  Was that a thing that she knew? Cato was… hard to predict. They all were.

  “The rest of your friends are here as well.”

  “Even Tabby?” she asked, wincing afterward. A dumb thing to ask him.

  He cocked his head. “Is there a reason she wouldn’t be? You’re hospitalized, Arden. That’s serious.”

  “You said it was a little blood loss and I’m fine now,” she reminded him, finally reaching to shove at the arm he was using to keep her down. “At least help me up if you’re going to be like this.”

  “Like what?” he seemed legitimately curious, but he complied, shifting so he could press a button on the remote control set on the nightstand. The head of the bed started to lift, so that she was in an upright position in a matter of seconds. She sighed, briefly closing her eyes as she fought against the ache in her left shoulder. The hospital gown she was in covered the injury, but she could make out the top of a bandage, a reminder that she’d been stabbed pretty deeply with that glass.

  “Damn. I’m going to have to get that window fixed now.” Did she even have the funds for that? Working at Howl Books didn’t exactly pay much.

  “You won’t be going back there.” Mavek stared at her, silently daring her to argue.

  “I live there,” she managed dumbly, annoyed to discover that the medicine they’d given her was making her head feel fuzzy. That small burst of adrenaline she’d felt when she’d woken up had already faded.

  “You can move into the manor, or your childhood home,” he said. “I’ll let you pick.”

  “You’re not listening,” she practically growled, done with the argument even though they’d only just gotten started. “I wouldn’t move in with you before I found out you were a lying asshole, I’m definitely not moving in with you now.”

  “Arden—”

  “I’m exhausted,” she stopped him, closing her eyes again even though a part of her yearned to study his every move––to know what he planned on doing next. The rest of her, however, admitted that there was a certain level of comfort having him here. Twila and her friend might have been dealt with already, but others were still out there, she was certain, who’d pick up where the two had left off. “Just let this go and stay still.”

  He was so quiet that she actually feared he’d left, about to force her eyes open one last time when he finally spoke and she didn’t have to.

  “You aren’t telling me to leave you,” he sounded slightly bewildered, but she didn’t have the energy to deal with that either.

  “You made everyone else go,” she reminded him, resting her head more firmly against the pillow. She felt better now that she wasn’t lying down; safer, more in control, despite knowing that was a false sense of security. “I just don’t want to be alone right now.”

  “Liar.”

  His statement had her opening her eyes again.

  “No one can protect you like I can,” he continued. “No one wants to as badly as I do.”

  She opened her mouth to argue—though for all she knew he was right—yet couldn’t manage a single word. He dropped his right arm around her hip, leaning so that he was caging her in without getting too close. “Don’t tell me that boy does; you can’t compare what the two of us feel, even if he’s fallen in love with you.”

  Eskel wasn’t in love with her. She didn’t get to voice that either though, since Mavek wasn’t done talking.

  “What he’s trying to keep safe is a dream––the possibility of something more that might last a decade or two. I’m protecting an eternity. Half a century could never compare to forever, Arden. You can’t deny which of us is more committed.”

  “Eskel’s never risked losing me by forcing his wishes without my consent,” she pointed out.

  “Are you back to that again?”

  “If you can be a broken record, so can I.”

  “Should we settle some things then, heart? We’re both stuck here for the time being, after all.”

  She cocked her head. “Are we?” If she thought for even a second that talking would actually get them anywhere, she’d agree. As it was…

  “Tell me about what happened tonight instead,” she told him. “Twila was after me because of Victor, but it was obvious someone sent her. Brix mentioned it might be that crown prince you’re all talking about?”

  “I had no idea there was a connection between Finch and the Erlking,” he admitted. “Krit failed to mention it. If not for Brix’s knowledge, we’d still be in the dark about that. This is why I don’t want you left alone, even with Twila out of the way. She was a minor threat compared to what the Crown Prince could be. If he’s looking for revenge, there are very few safe places left for you. With me is one of them.”

  This wasn’t the first time she’d been told that Mavek was one of the few that could possibly stand against the prince and survive. And also not for the first time, she wondered just how powerful he truly was, and why he’d bowed down to the Erlking and Titania this long if he was that strong. The ranking system was confusing, although she understood that they’d each been given separate territories to rule over––but when she’d stopped to analyze it, Mavek had really taken a slight step back to make room for the other two regents. Her brow furrowed.

  “Could Titania stand against him?” she asked, watching when he blinked in surprise.

  “Why? Are you planning to ask the Unseelie Queen for help instead?”

  She shook her head, the movement aggravating her migraine. “I’m just curious.”

  He stared for another moment, as if maybe he didn’t believe her, and then sighed. “Probably not.”

  “Then, why did you listen to her? Why weren’t you placed above her in rank from the beginning?”

  “Are you trying to deduce if this is another trick?” he asked. “Perhaps you think I’m using this as an excuse to manipulate you back to me?”

  That’d only partially been the case, but… “Are you?”

  He grunted. “I won’t deny I’m using it to my advantag
e, but no. I’m not lying about this. I wouldn’t play with your safety, heart. The truth is, when we first arrived from the Underground, I wasn’t as strong as I am now. That was centuries ago, and I’m quite a bit younger than either Titania or the Erlking. Strength for our kind doesn’t come with age. I surpassed them both, but had to wait until one was removed from their position in order to claim a higher station for myself.”

  Which is what had happened when the two of them had tossed the Erlking to the Underground.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” he said, scanning her face. “I can see the wheels turning in that pretty head of yours. But when I move up in the world, we both do. I was able to help your friend Cole out during the crowning, remember? Titania would not have let either of you go so easily if I hadn’t been there ordering her to do so. I can protect you, Arden. From anything. Even from the Crown Prince if I have to. All you have to do is let me.”

  She chuckled before she could help it, the sound bitter even to her own ears. “Let you?”

  There was no way she was going to be leaving her house any time soon, especially not to go to one of the places he owned. He walked in on her enough as it was, and as much as she hated to admit it, she still got flustered every time that happened.

  “So, Krit knew that the Erlking and this Finch guy were close?” she asked. This was an opportunity to gain information that would help her keep herself safe. She needed to take it, instead of getting caught up in her anger toward the Midnight King. “Why didn’t he tell us the other night?”

  Mavek ground his teeth. “I wondered the same thing, but he was already gone when I went searching for him to find out. He took the Lutin with him. It’s unclear when, or if, they’ll return.”

  “The Goblin Market—”