Revelry

by Chani Feener

  She bit her lip. Now that she thought about it, it would be strange to suddenly change her mind and show up on Mavek’s doorstep claiming she was going to let bygones be bygones. No, she needed to come up with an actual plan, a way to convince Mavek without raising any suspicions.

  “I don’t want you anywhere near him,” Eskel admitted, shifting so that his knees bumped against the side of her leg under the table.

  “Why?” Cole asked before she could comment, drawing their attention back his way. He’d moved on from playing with the knife to tearing a napkin into pieces. “Because you’re afraid of what he might do to her, or because you’re worried her old feelings will redevelop?”

  “Cole!” Tabby tried to clamp a hand over his mouth, but she was too late.

  Eskel stiffened, shoulders bracing defensively as he stared the other boy down––a boy who once dated Arden himself.

  Cole shoved Tabby’s arm away and cleared his throat. “I’m only asking. It would make sense. The two of you are hardly a thing yet, thanks to Mavek Midnight. If I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t want the girl I loved anywhere near her old flame. Especially with the knowledge that she’s not fully over him. Look, she’s not even denying it.”

  Guilt washed over Arden like a tidal wave and instead of responding, she turned apologetic eyes to Tabby.

  “Hey,” Tabby abandoned trying to get Cole to shut up, propping her elbows on the table so she could lean all the way across to take Arden’s hand, “don’t worry about it. I’m not upset. Even I still think the guy is hot and I was the one who almost got sent to the Underground.”

  “You what now?” Eskel made a face at her, and she stuck her tongue out at him, trying to steer them back into a lighter mood.

  “So it’s settled then,” Cole tapped his fingers against the table, waiting for Tabby to sit back down before continuing. “We’re doing this.”

  “Why before the next full moon?” Tabby asked.

  “Because mortals typically change within two to three moon cycles,” he told her. “Arden’s already passed two, and with how rapidly she’s changing, it seems smart to assume the next one will be it for her. Once she’s fully fae, there’ll be no going back.”

  “Your friend told you all this?” Eskel asked.

  Cole shrugged and then stood, stretching his arms above his head almost languidly. “Now I’m starving. I’ll go order.”

  They watched as he sauntered up to the front counter, where one of the cooks had changed out of his apron and now stood at the register where George should have been.

  “Is it just me,” Tabby said, keeping her voice low even though he was out of earshot, “or has he been particularly weird lately?”

  “Maybe we should find out if there are any other side effects from what Titania did,” Eskel agreed. “I thought it was just his taste buds, but ever since the crowning he’s been a little bit off.”

  Arden remained silent while they talked, mentally adding that to the growing list of problems that needed to be sorted out.

  All before the next full moon.

  “Remind me,” Arden said, eyes darting around the wide-open backyard of some guy she’d barely spoken three words to all year, “what are we doing here again?”

  Tabby groaned. “Cole wanted to come.”

  “Yeah,” she said, sidestepping an already drunk sophomore she recognized from one of her classes, “but why?”

  “You’ll have to ask him that.” Tabby pointed to where Eskel and Cole stood.

  They were in front of one of the long plastic tables that had been set out in Gunther Spring’s backyard, waiting behind a line of other people to grab drinks. Gunther had gone to high school with Cole, Tabby, and Arden, but he’d really only been a friend of the first.

  “I didn’t realize they were so close,” Arden muttered aloud, watching as Gunther walked by and slapped Cole on the back.

  “They aren’t,” Tabby replied, lips pursing as her eyes took in the same sight. “Or, at least they weren’t. When he came back to town in October, I asked him if he kept in touch with anyone from high school and he told me he hadn’t. Guess they ran into each other in town and caught up or something.”

  Last night, Cole had surprised them all by suggesting they go to this end of the year party. With exams over, everyone was ready to celebrate and head off to their own homes for winter break. For people like Arden and Gunther, that meant sticking in town, which was probably why the latter had decided to throw an all-out bash before half his friends left.

  No one had bothered asking Cole where he’d heard about the party, mostly because once they’d found out who the host was, they figured he’d been contacted and invited directly. Arden was only now thinking about how strange that was.

  Everything about this, in fact, was odd.

  When they’d shown no interest in wanting to go, Cole had actually pouted. Cole, who’d avoided group outings like the plague and always hated events like this in high school. They’d even had to bribe him just to get him to go to homecoming.

  “Maybe he’s trying to make friends,” Tabby suggested after a moment, the two of them still watching as Eskel and Cole slowly moved up in line. She paused briefly before adding, “He’s decided to transfer to Thornbrooke College.”

  “What?!” Realizing she’d spoken too loudly, she glanced around and caught a few curious eyes. When she spoke again, she made sure to keep her tone even. “Why would he do that? What about acting?” There certainly wasn’t a better acting program than Carnegie Mellon.

  She already felt bad that he’d extended his leave of absence in order to stick around and help her. Now he was saying that he was never going to return?

  “I don’t know,” Tabby said. “When I asked, he told me it didn’t matter anymore. Super casually too. Do you think… Could something be wrong with him?” Almost as soon as the words were out, she was shaking her head. “No, never mind. It’s probably just stress. We’re all under a lot of it. Anyway, I’m going to try and convince him not to make that massive mistake. If he asks you for your opinion—”

  “Oh, I’ll definitely tell him to go back,” Arden reassured. The Unseelie might be everywhere, but this town was certainly the hub of all the ones they’d recently pissed off. “You should think about—”

  “I’m not leaving,” Tabby shot her down before she could get the full sentence out, then chucked her chin toward the guys who were finally heading back, a drink in each hand.

  Eskel reached them first, handing Arden a bottle of water absently as he took a look around the crowded backyard. Despite the cold December air and the thin layer of snow coating the ground, the festivities were in full swing. From where they stood on the porch, they could see into the sunroom attached to the back of the house, an area that was even more packed than outside.

  “Gunther claims to have put all the alcohol outside to help people sober up,” Tabby told them, rolling her eyes. “What a bunch of bullshit.”

  “I think he just likes torturing people,” Arden agreed, and Cole chuckled lightly.

  The four of them had opted for water since the location of this party put them all on edge. Gunther lived in the old part of town—the same area where Arden’s old house rested, and where Rose Manor was located. The woods at the edge of his backyard curved and joined with the ones that stood sentry on Mavek’s grounds.

  Arden would be seriously surprised if no fae showed up tonight. Not just because of the close vicinity either. Parties were the perfect place for faeries to wreak a little havoc.

  “Tabby, hey.” A boy Arden didn’t recognize walked up to them, hovering on the steps leading up to the patio where they stood. Sheepishly, he smiled at Tabitha, hand clenching tightly around the neck of a beer bottle.

  “What’s up, Seth?” she replied, then turned to address Arden and the rest, explaining, “We have Physics 101 together.”

  Seth waved at them, before quickly turning back to Tabby. “How’d you do on the final?”

>   “I’m out.” Cole broke off from the rest of them without another word, dropping down the steps and passing Seth without so much as a second glance. Now that most people had collected their drinks, the crowd outside had thinned substantially, yet he still managed to get lost within a throng of bodies.

  Arden and Eskel both frowned after him, but Tabby merely shrugged.

  “He’s weird sometimes,” she explained to the confused Seth, then motioned toward the backdoor. “Want to go inside for a bit?”

  Arden blinked after her best friend as she also left, then turned to Eskel once the two of them were alone. He looked just as surprised as she was that they’d been abandoned.

  “I was under the impression that we weren’t really here to have fun?” he questioned, glancing first in the direction Cole had vanished, and then the one Tabby had gone. “Did they, like, not get the same memo?”

  “Right?” She took a sip of her water, mostly to buy time to collect her thoughts before realizing, “Actually, what are we doing here, exactly? I tried asking Tabby, but she mostly deflected.”

  “Did you want to make sure none of the fae caused any trouble?”

  She thought it over, and then shook her head. “I mean, I hope they don’t, but I wouldn’t have come all this way just for that.”

  Sad, but true. She couldn’t really bring herself to feel guilty about it either, too busy freezing her ass off in the cold weather.

  “Who the hell has a partially outdoors party in the middle of winter anyway?” she mumbled, watching as a puff of her breath floated in front of her.

  “Okay, we came because Cole begged us.” Eskel laughed. “Might as well admit that there was nothing noble in it and move on with our lives.”

  “Do you know anyone else here?” Arden recognized a few from various classes, but no one that she’d had any type of lengthy conversation with. A couple she’d gone to high school with stood out in the crowd, but there weren’t many people from those days she wanted to keep in touch with either.

  By the time they’d graduated from middle school, most of the teasing had stopped, but there’d still been some classmates who called her names and picked on her for “seeing things that weren’t there”. She’d gotten past letting those sorts of comments affect her, but that didn’t mean she wanted to befriend any of them now.

  “This really isn’t my scene,” she admitted.

  Eskel grunted. “One, I don’t really know anyone here. Two, I can’t believe you just used that phrase, ‘scene’. Wow.”

  “Put it a different way then,” she suggested challengingly.

  “This is cute,” a sarcastic voice drawled. Arden turned to see Cato, who lifted a beer bottle to his lips and took a long gulp before making a face. A girl walked by and he thrust his arm out, forcing her to take the bottle with her.

  She glared at him, but didn’t say anything.

  “What are you doing here?” Arden asked as he shoved his hands into his pockets and surveyed their surroundings with obvious contempt.

  “I have to shadow you, remember? Thanks for this, by the way. Just what I wanted to do with my Friday night.”

  “Believe it or not,” Eskel muttered, “we’re not really excited about being here either.”

  “Then let’s go,” Cato suggested, taking a step back toward the exit. “The last time Arden was at a party not hosted by my people she was six and there was a bouncy house. What could have urged you all to come here in the first place?”

  “Cole,” their reply came simultaneously.

  “That’s—” His head snapped in the direction of the backyard, his sentence left hanging in the air unfinished.

  Arden felt it only a moment later––that slight tingle up her spine followed by the knowing. “An Unseelie just arrived.”

  “A strong one,” Cato agreed, his brow furrowing in a slight frown. “Hold on.” Without waiting for a response, he descended the steps and began weaving through the small groupings of people, his form soon swallowed up by the dark patches of the backyard where the porch light didn’t reach.

  “We knew there’d be fae,” Eskel said, his eyes still straining to follow Cato’s path. “Why’s he reacting like that?”

  “It feels different,” Arden tried to explain, struggling with it. “Almost like… whoever’s here hasn’t come to enjoy the party.”

  He blinked at her. “You can get all that from just standing here?”

  She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. “Yeah.”

  “Should we…” He looked between her and the space where Cato had vanished, “follow after him?”

  “Maybe in a min—” She was moving before her mind had time to process, a shock wave of sensation slamming into her, causing her to react first and think later. Darting down the steps, she rushed off toward the back, veering right. It took her eyes a second to adjust once she was out of reach of the porch light, but she didn’t stop to wait for them.

  A copse of trees lit by pale moonlight came into view, and on the ground beneath the branches, a little boy no older than five lay. He was curled up, his forehead pressed to his knees, and his shoulders were shaking slightly as if he was crying. The sound of boots crunching in the snow at her back had Arden turning, catching Eskel’s arm before he could move past her.

  “Don’t,” she warned, giving a sharp shake of her head. “That’s not what you think it is.”

  He frowned at her, and then stared at the boy, squinting. Circling the faerie ring gave him the ability to see the Unseelie, but it didn’t help improve his vision in the dark. With his limited human sight, he couldn’t make out all the tiny details like Arden could.

  Thin green and red vines snaked from around the bottom of the tree trunk and wrapped up the boy’s left leg, twisting and disappearing beneath the hem of his yellow T-shirt. No kid would be out here in this weather in just a T-shirt.

  Something shifted beneath the ground directly in front of them, and Arden instinctually shoved Eskel out of the way just before another vine shot upward. It slashed forward, cutting through the air with a shrill whistle, its pointed tip slicing across Eskel’s cheek. If she hadn’t pushed him back, it would have gone straight through his face.

  He landed on the ground with a heavy thump, scuttling backward as the vine shot toward him a second time. Arden reached out, grabbing onto the vine tightly. It was covered in small thorns, and she hissed as they dug into the skin of her palm. Gripping harder despite the pain, she pulled the vine in the opposite direction so Eskel could regain his footing.

  “Don’t,” she snapped, when he went to take a step toward her. The end of the vine had begun wrapping itself around her hand, thorns biting deeper into her flesh. She felt a slight tug in the direction of the little boy beneath the tree.

  She glanced over, sucking in a sharp breath when she was met with glowing red eyes. He’d barely lifted his head, but it was clear he was smiling now. The vine around his leg shifted, drawing her attention before the one in her hand gave a hard tug.

  Arden slipped, falling face first onto the ground. She sputtered, spitting out a mouthful of dirty snow, and struggled to make it to her knees. The vine began pulling her faster, her body now sliding toward the boy and the tree. She was halfway there when her mind caught up and she changed tactics. Reaching back, she lost another moment struggling to lift her right leg close enough, but then her fingers found the grip of her dagger and she almost sighed out loud. In one swift motion, she unsheathed it and slashed it against the vine. The blade cut through the plant easily, severing the bit she held from the rest.

  Eskel was behind her, tugging her up and retreating so fast they both almost toppled a second time. He didn’t stop until they were a good thirty feet away from the tree, both of them harried and out of breath.

  As soon as they came to a standstill, Arden held up her hand, grimacing as the piece of vine attached to her turned to ash, blowing away in a strong gust of wind. Its disappearance did nothing to heal her wounds, and th
e couple dozen tiny cuts stung and bled. Fortunately, it didn’t appear as though anyone from the party had noticed them leaving, or been curious enough to trail them. From this distance, she doubted they could see anything either which was one less thing to worry about in any case.

  “What the hell is that thing?” Eskel exclaimed between gasps, still holding onto her right arm, his eyes wide and staring at the unmoving boy beneath the tree.

  “Bad news, clearly.” Arden adjusted her grip on the knife, the move forcing Eskel to let go. She only needed a heartbeat to take aim, and then sent the blade soaring through the air, headed straight for the Unseelie boy. Just as it was about to make contact, another vine burst through the tree trunk and blocked it, sending the knife skidding off to the right.

  “Well crap.” She swallowed. She only had one left, and that one was made of iron. She’d started wearing extra thick socks just so she could tolerate having the iron knife tucked in her boot. She wasn’t sure how she was going to handle holding it, or how long she’d manage to do so.

  “How are you with throwing daggers?” she asked, and Eskel’s expression was answer enough. “Remind me to teach you sometime.”

  “A world of please do.”

  “Cato was totally right,” she said, “we shouldn’t have come to this party.”

  “Speaking of, where the hell is—”

  Right on cue, a flash of red darted out from the trees off to the left. Cato grabbed the discarded knife as he passed, moving faster than the human eye could process. Arden had little trouble following his movements, watching as he twisted and slid the last few feet across the snow and ice-covered ground toward the faerie boy.

  The vine around the boy’s leg began to untangle, but it was already too late. The blade of the knife slashed out like a viper, cutting across the boy’s throat. He didn’t even get the chance to scream before his body burst into a thousand tiny yellow flower petals. They scattered into the wind.

  Eskel hissed, pulling Arden out of her reverie, and when she turned he was pressing the pads of his fingers lightly against the cut on his cheek.