Revelry

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Revelry Page 24

by Chani Feener

“I didn’t misspeak.” He motioned toward the Unseelie and sat on the edge of the table once more, crossing his arms for good measure. “You’re going to use sway on him. Convince him to do something, anything.”

  “I don’t…” She glanced between the two of them. “I don’t have sway, Mavek.”

  “Of course you do.”

  “No—”

  He sighed dramatically, instantly cutting her off. “As you’ve already stated, I made you. I know what you are and are not capable of. Do you really think I’d leave you vulnerable like that?”

  “Only the most powerful Unseelie have the ability to use sway on others of their kind,” she reminded him, as if he was dumb and had forgotten.

  “Yes, and you are my creature, Arden Archer. My power is what’s making you what you are, and I’m one of the most powerful fae in this world. Once your change is complete, you’ll be an extension of me, with all the same gifts and advantages.” A light glimmered in his eyes. “With the same station and power.”

  “Mavek…” She wasn’t quite sure what she intended to say; it felt like her world was tipping on its axis. No wonder he’d been so confident that he could help explain every single one of her newly forming abilities.

  “I’ve given you all that I have,” he said, voice low, intimate. “My goal has always been for us to be equals, Arden. I told you before that you wouldn’t stay angry at me forever.”

  This was why he’d been so certain of that fact. She didn’t know how to take that.

  “Give up on those childish notions of stopping the change,” he told her, half-smirk returning, “if only so you can try to best me later. Wouldn’t that be the greatest form of revenge, heart? I’ve harmed you, but I’ve also armed you. I’ve made it so that soon, no one will stand above you. Not even me. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted, really? Deep down, you’ve had a single desire your whole life.” He held her gaze. “To be free.”

  “Get out,” the words were barely audible, but they hung heavy between them. When no one moved, her eyes shot toward the other Unseelie, narrowing slightly. In a firmer tone, she ordered, “Leave.”

  The fae glanced at Mavek questioningly, waiting for him to approve the command. The move sparked an anger within her, and the tension and anxiety that had been building this whole time tightened until it felt like a separate entity clawing at her insides.

  “I said,” she commanded, as she let the familiar buzzing sensation momentarily consume her, “Get. Out.”

  She watched as his shoulders stiffened and his eyes glazed over. For a second, his lips pursed and it looked like he was struggling internally with something. Then, his right foot slid backward, followed shortly by the left, until he was retreating to the doorway that led into the hall. Just before he reached the threshold, he managed a short bow in their direction and then swiveled on his heels and left without a second glance.

  It wasn’t until he was gone that Arden realized she’d broken out in a cold sweat. Her hands were shaking, palms damp, and for a brief moment her stomach rolled and she feared she was about to throw up. All at once, the reaction dissipated, fading away as quickly as it’d hit her. By the time she shot her gaze back to Mavek, eyes wide and disbelieving, she felt fine.

  No, better than fine. She felt fantastic. There was enough energy in her body to run a mile.

  “What the…?”

  “You used sway,” he said, and then canted his head, inspecting her. “And you’ve done it before.”

  “No, I—” She stopped, brow furrowing slightly. “Yes, I have.”

  Back at the aquarium, when she’d been speaking to that fir darrig. Eskel had even pointed it out—scary, had been the term he’d used. She hadn’t realized what she’d done then, but now it was crystal clear.

  “How could I do that without knowing?”

  “Breathe, Arden Archer,” he repeated, and when she glanced up he was smiling softly at her. “There’s nothing to fear; you’ll know yourself again soon. I’ll teach you who you are.”

  The fact that he knew exactly what was bothering her made the hairs on her arms rise. It was comforting that he understood her even when she was struggling so hard to understand herself, and she hated it.

  “Breathe,” he said again, lower this time, almost silkily. His smile turned devilish. “Breathe, then come and kiss me.”

  “Where are you staying now that the dorms are shutting down for winter break?” Arden asked as they walked past the empty school buildings. Campus was quiet, with only the sound of the wind whistling around them and the occasional passing car.

  “I put in a request to stay,” Eskel told her, picking up the pace as they neared his car in the empty library parking lot. “They keep the heat on to prevent frozen pipes and stuff, and there are a couple other students sticking around so it worked out.”

  “That’s good.” She’d met him in front of his dorm building a few minutes ago, and felt a slight pang of guilt that she hadn’t thought to ask him about his living arrangements sooner.

  Eskel unlocked the passenger side door and held it open for her. Once they were both inside, he flicked on the heat then grabbed her hands and cupped them. He ignored her look as he began blowing on them gently, rubbing them between his equally frozen fingers.

  “Why didn’t you wear gloves?” He clucked his tongue and then paused before reaching into the backseat and pulling a yellow gift bag into the front. Arden took it when he held it out to her, frowning as she peered down into the tuft of forest-green paper that stuck out of the top. “What’s this?”

  “Nothing really,” he shrugged and then put the car into reverse and began to head toward the road.

  She hesitated a moment, waiting for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. The paper crinkled as she dug through it, fingers wrapping around something smooth. When she pulled out a pair of black leather gloves, she couldn’t hold back her laugh.

  “It’s getting cold,” Eskel said, as if that explained everything. He didn’t meet her gaze, keeping his eyes straight ahead in an attempt to avoid her. She couldn’t help but smile; why was it cute that he was embarrassed?

  “You do realize that as an Unseelie, I won’t feel the cold the same way, right?” The fae didn’t feel it to the same extent as humans; the temperature needed to drop a lot lower.

  “You’re still human for now.” He licked his lips. “Speaking of, though, how did it go yesterday?”

  She was in the process of popping the tags off the gloves, and she paused at the question. “I didn’t get a chance to look for the candied roses. We were in the kitchen too, but he never left me alone, and our session didn’t last anywhere near as long as I thought it would.”

  By the end, she’d been in the manor less than forty-five minutes, hardly enough time to complete a search and seizure.

  “I think we might need to come up with a distraction,” she suggested. “But not yet. Let’s wait and see if I can get the other items first.” If she couldn’t get his blood, it wouldn’t matter even if they did find the candied roses. “I still have no clue how I’m going to do that.”

  “He’s training you,” he pointed out. “There’s got to be some kind of hand-to-hand combat involved. Maybe you can… nick him with something?”

  It wasn’t a horrible plan. “How do I collect the blood though?”

  “Try this.” Eskel dug into his pocket and pulled out a small glass vial no bigger than her pinky. “Just, you know, don’t get caught.”

  “Good advice.” She took the vial, glad that he’d thought ahead. At least one of them was taking this seriously. “I acknowledge that I should be better prepared for this.”

  “You’ve got a lot on your mind.”

  “And you don’t?”

  “When are you going back?” He pulled the car in front of the diner. They’d agreed to get lunch, just the two of them, and though it wasn’t officially a date, it sort of felt like one anyway.

  Which was partly why Arden didn’t really want to conti
nue talking about Mavek.

  “Tomorrow,” she answered, undoing her seat belt. “Since the full moon is coming up, I convinced him to get this done as quickly as possible. It helped that I’ve been attacked a couple times already; he was easy enough to convince.”

  “What about…” Eskel shut the car off and twisted his keys in his hands. After a brief pause, he shook his head. “Never mind.”

  “Our lips barely touched for more than a second,” Arden told him, understanding his hesitation. “Before and after. It was extremely uneventful as far as kisses go, and I didn’t feel anything.”

  Internally she started, realizing that was the truth. There had been no spark when Mavek had pressed his lips to hers. Maybe that was due to how short it’d been, or the fact that she’d been too nervous about everything else. Either way, it was progress, in a sense. She would have killed for a brief kiss from him a year ago. Now, it was like nothing had even happened. She certainly hadn’t been thinking about it. Instead, she’d tossed and turned in Tabby’s room last night with thoughts of lunch with Eskel keeping her awake.

  Eskel grinned and glanced away before saying, “I’m starving. Let’s go eat?”

  Arden nodded her head and they both got out of the car. On their way up the side ramp leading to the diner’s front door, he held his hand out to her.

  She took it.

  Arden found him in the greenhouse.

  He’d disappeared some twenty minutes ago while she’d been practicing sway on a few hobgoblins on the porch—being outside in the cold helped motivate her to keep focus. She’d been so caught up in making them stand on one foot and spin in circles that she hadn’t even noticed he was gone. Truthfully, she’d snuck to the greenhouse to pluck a few rose petals without him noticing, but since he was here…

  Mavek was carefully rubbing the silky petals of a flower between his fingers, gaze drawn to the motion as if in a trance. When she shifted on her feet, the subtle sound had his eyes lifting ever so slightly, catching the light so that the tapetum lucidum behind his retinas momentarily winked like polished silver.

  “Do you remember the first time I brought you here?” he asked softly, the corner of his mouth turning up even as he glanced back down at the rose.

  Even though she’d agreed to hear him out about the Tithe, it’d taken her a great deal longer to trust him enough to willingly show up at his home. It had been at least a month into knowing him, and the first place he’d shown her was this greenhouse. At the time, she’d thought it was because it was outdoors and he’d wanted to give her some semblance of reassurance—she could easily leave any time she wanted. She wasn’t trapped behind closed doors or thick walls.

  She almost snorted at the thought now. It’d been a manipulation of her feelings in order to placate her and ease her into a false sense of security.

  “I was fascinated by the way you walked between the rows,” he continued, unaware of the dark turn her thoughts had taken, “how you tried to take in everything all at once.” He chuckled. “I was amused that your middle name shared something so intimate with me. Thought it was fate that must have brought us together.”

  “As fun as this conversation is—” she began, only to be swiftly cut off.

  “I’ve never loved someone before, Arden Rose Archer. At first, I didn’t understand what was going on. Thoughts of you would keep me up all night and distract me all day. Little things would remind me of the way you tuck your hair behind your ear, or the way your lips curve when you smile. It was an altogether strange occurrence for me, and it took some time to figure out what it all meant.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” she asked. “Why now?”

  He paused for a brief moment, then finally dropped the flower and stepped away from the row of bushes he was standing in front of. “Because I want to give you as much truth as I can.”

  “Which means,” she surmised, catching the look in his eyes, “you’re going to be giving me more lies soon. Or you already have.”

  His silence was all the answer she needed.

  “You can’t make up for the past, Mavek.”

  “I can try.”

  “A good place to start is by not creating more bad memories you’ll later hope to erase.”

  “Is that a suggested step in the right direction, or a warning?”

  “If you’re asking me if I’m giving you advice on how to regain my favor, the answer is a definitive no. As far as I’m concerned, whatever may or may not have been between us before is over and done with.”

  That was the truth. It had to be.

  It’d taken her a long time to get there, but thinking about laughing over pancakes with Eskel yesterday helped her keep vigil over her reactions. All of those lingering feelings for the Midnight King might not have vanished overnight, but she controlled her own emotions and how she acted on them. Regardless of whether or not she successfully broke this new curse––whether or not she was able to remain human––that fact wouldn’t change.

  “Things don’t die so easily, Arden. No matter how badly we wish they would.” He turned so that his body was fully facing hers. “Do you think I didn’t try before setting all of this into motion? Do you think, after I realized what I was feeling for you, I just took it in stride? I did not. I tried to get you out of my system, desperately one might even say. If I couldn’t shake you then, it certainly isn’t a possibility now.” His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. “You feel the same.”

  “I don’t,” she was quick to deny, hands fisting tightly where she had them tucked into the pockets of her coat.

  “What if I proved myself again?” he asked. “What if I did something to show you that I was sincere?”

  “Don’t.” She shook her head, already dreading what that could mean. “Just stay still and keep your word. I’m only here because you promised to teach me what I needed to know about being a fae. That’s it.”

  “What if something you need to know is how to trust your regent?”

  “Enough with the dumb what-ifs,” she snapped. “I highly doubt all of your fae actually trust you.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “Even if they don’t, they know better than to act out. They know they don’t have a choice but to follow me.”

  “Careful,” she warned, “you’re starting to sound hypocritical.”

  The corner of his mouth turned up, and he angled his face away, feigning interest in the flowers once more. Arden wondered how long he’d been in here, what he’d been thinking about before she’d arrived. It’d been so long since she’d experienced him like this, in those quiet, still moments. Whenever they were together now, they clashed, their tongues sharp as daggers. Part of her felt badly, wistfully wishing to turn back the clock. She had to pause and remind herself that it was his fault.

  “I wonder if it would help if I begged,” he murmured.

  Arden frowned. “What?”

  He seemed to shake himself out of his thoughts, gaze hardening with a gleam of determination. “If I got down on my knees and pleaded for forgiveness, would you grant it then? Is that the way out of this? I’d belittle myself before you, if that’s what you need from me.”

  He was so sincere, and his offer was so shocking, that it took her a moment to wrap her head around it. She took her time considering his words—not because she actually believed having him beg would help, but because the end part of his statement had her wondering herself.

  What did she need from him?

  An end to turning Unseelie was the obvious answer, but when she thought about it, that didn’t really feel right to her. Wants were one thing. Needs were visceral, filled with desperation and urgency. Arden didn’t want to become one of them, but she had to admit––even if only to herself––she was now prepared to. Whenever she thought about Mavek, there was always one thing that constantly echoed in her brain. One thing she felt desperate about.

  “I need you to turn back time and not do what you did,” she whispered, the words falling off her
lips slowly. She felt like a traitor to her friends, for yearning for something so foolish.

  All for purely selfish reasons.

  Mavek stared at her, and there might have even been a flash of regret in his hazel eyes, but she didn’t want to give him the chance to reply. She wasn’t finished unloading this heavy secret she’d carried with her all this time, one she hadn’t really wanted to acknowledge.

  “I like Eskel,” she confessed, even though he was already aware of that fact. “A lot, actually. I like the way he makes me feel, like I’m valid. I like his loyalty, and his strength, and the way he tries to understand other people instead of just applying his own thoughts to their actions.”

  “Arden—”

  “I like Eskel,” she repeated, ignoring the way his nostrils flared and his jaw clenched. “But I can’t be with him because of you. I can’t trust that what I feel for him is real, because I can’t trust any of my feelings, about anything at all. I fell in love with a monster, and now I’m paying the price, and the boy that I like is paying as well. So,” she took a shaky breath, “I need you to turn back time and not do what you did. Don’t trick me into signing up for the Tithe. Don’t betray me. Don’t turn me into the stuff of nightmares against my will.”

  Erasing him from her life was the only solution she could see at this point, but saying point-blank that she wished they’d never met was cruel and dangerous. Still, that didn’t stop her from saying her next words.

  “If you can’t do that, then tell me it’s okay,” she forced herself to hold his gaze, when all she wanted to do was look away. “I need you to tell me I can be with Eskel. No threats attached. No deals. No strings. Just… let me go, Mavek. I can’t take being hurt by you anymore.”

  That was the root of it all, really. Arden had lost both of her parents, been forced to send her sister away for her own protection, and what she’d been left with was him. Mavek had been more than just a faerie she spent time with or worked for. More than someone who was going to help her break a curse. More than someone she’d merely had a crush on.

 

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