Revelry

by Chani Feener

  When there’d been no hope and no one around to hear her cry, he’d been there. She wouldn’t have overcome her grief over her mother’s death if she hadn’t had the Tithe to focus all of her energy on. Sure, it’d been a lie, but at the time she hadn’t known that, and even though she’d never admit it to him, maybe that lie had been just what she’d needed.

  But a lie was still a lie, and although he’d once been the only person she could rely on, he wasn’t anymore.

  He stared at her, shocked, mouth opening once only to snap shut again. Her words had stung, and she watched as he struggled when usually he spoke so effortlessly. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he turned to face her, left hand reaching out.

  Before he made contact, however, they both heard a whooshing sound at his back. He turned just as she tilted her head toward it, their curiosity mutual. Something whizzed through the gaps of plastic in one of the windows, sailing through the air lightning-quick.

  Mavek had her wrapped in his arms and was twisting them out of the way faster than she could blink. He pressed her back against a row of roses, the thorns pricking and sticking into the material of her coat. He hissed slightly, mouth close to her ear, and pulled back, eyes scanning the other side of the greenhouse until they landed on the arrow imbedded in the wood.

  The arrow that had just come through the window.

  “Did someone just…?” The question was stupid, but Arden floundered with the notion that someone had just shot an arrow at them. Or more aptly, at her.

  “Stay here,” he told her, moving toward the door almost as quickly as the arrow had flown through. He didn’t pause to glance at it a second time as he passed, slipping out the door and disappearing around the side of the building before she had a chance to inhale.

  Arden stepped away from the roses, intent on following despite his order, but the sharp hint of copper in the air gave her pause. She recognized the smell of blood but had never been able to smell it this strongly before, and with a frown she turned back, trying to find the source. Her eyes widened some when she did.

  Hanging heavily from the curve of a vibrant green thorn was a single drop of blood. She hadn’t been injured, protected by her coat, but Mavek’s hands had been at her back, right against the sharp stems….

  She fumbled with the vial in her pocket, her hands shaking as she brought it under the drop and ripped the leaf off the stem. She shoved it into the vial, staring at the red-stained leaf through the glass. What were the odds that she’d get two of the items she needed at once?

  She bit her lip, and fought against a wave of guilt. Mavek had bled because he’d saved her from an arrow just now. No, she steeled herself, Mavek had bled because he’d tricked her into all of this. Arden slipped the vial into her pocket, stepped back into place, and waited for the Midnight King to return.

  “And you don’t know who fired the arrow?” Eskel added a large heap of sugar to one of the coffee cups in front of him and stirred, the spoon clinking against the ceramic.

  Arden had taken the risk and shown up earlier, confident that Mavek was too busy hunting down an answer to the question Eskel had just posed to bother following her. He wouldn’t like that she was visiting the human, but Arden was past the point of caring. It was interesting, the difference in the way she thought of things now compared to a mere few weeks ago.

  “You shouldn’t have let me in,” she deflected, smiling in thanks when he handed her the mug with less sugar. The coffee was hot, almost burning her tongue when she sipped it, and she sighed contentedly as she wrapped her chilled hands around it. She’d only just come from the icy night outside, and was grateful that he’d snuck a coffee maker into the dorms—appliances like that typically weren’t allowed—because even with the heat blasting she felt cold to the bone.

  “I’ll always let you in, Arden,” he told her, but when she looked up to frown at him, he was already turning away. He moved back toward the other side of the small room, pushing the chair off to the side so that he could perch on the edge of the desk and face her. After taking a gulp of his own coffee, he said, “Tell me more about what happened.”

  She sighed, settling more comfortably on his bed. “That’s it.”

  “You really have no idea who it could have been? Mavek just came back to the greenhouse and told you the person got away and you should head home?” He pursed his lips, brow drawing together in consternation. “I don’t like it.”

  “If he found the person, there’s no reason he could have for keeping it from me,” Arden began, only to have him shake his head.

  “That’s not what I mean. He just… sent you home? Alone? After that? Doesn’t that seem odd to you? If you’d just been attacked in front of me, I wouldn’t leave you alone for a second.”

  She had to admit, she’d had that same thought when Mavek had insisted she go home instead of staying with him. Arden had expected him to demand she stay the night so he could watch over her, had even been in the process of brainstorming excuses. He’d surprised her when he not only hadn’t offered but had even gone so far as to tell her to leave.

  He’d planted his lips against hers almost as an afterthought, before walking out the greenhouse door a second time, putting an end to their training session. She’d watched him go without a second glance back.

  “What if you weren’t the target?” Eskel suggested. “If the arrow had been meant for him, and he knew it, that would make a little more sense.”

  “Who would be bold enough to try something like that?” They both knew the answer. Finch had to have been behind it. That also helped explain why Mavek would have wanted her as far away from there as possible. Even he would struggle in a fight against the Crown Prince.

  Eskel snorted. “Isn’t attacking you at this point the same as going for the Midnight King anyway? He considers you his.”

  She made a face at him. “Don’t ever say something like that again. Wow.”

  “He does,” he mumbled, trying to mask the words with the rim of the coffee cup as he brought it up for another sip.

  “In any case,” Arden didn’t think talking about this would help solidify any of their guesses, “Mavek would have sent his people to investigate by now, so whether I was the target or he was, he’ll find out and let me know.”

  “He said as much?”

  She nodded. “I made him swear to it. He wants me to trust him again, so keeping me in the loop and not lying is a way to do that. Or so I told him, anyway.”

  Eskel tilted his head, eyeing her quietly for a moment before saying, “Isn’t that the truth though?”

  “What do you mean?” She shifted uncomfortably.

  “Isn’t that the way trust is typically built? He proves himself to you, and eventually you—”

  “I’m not going to forgive him for the things he’s done,” she cut him off. “I told him that much as well. Some things are unforgivable. Look at all the trouble we’re going through now. Tabby and I had our first big fight in years, you’re threatened wherever you go, and Cole’s been so scarred he’s practically a different person lately.”

  “And you’re stronger and better equipped to protect us, and yourself.”

  “You don’t mean that.” He wasn’t wrong, but that didn’t matter.

  “Arden…” Eskel bit his bottom lip, hesitating. After a moment, he exhaled and visibly braced himself before meeting her gaze head-on once more. “Are you really sure about all this? Do you… really want to stop yourself from changing all the way?”

  She blinked at him, certain she’d misheard. “Huh?”

  “It’s just,” he rubbed at the back of his neck and then placed his cup down on the desk with a loud smack, “you’ve said it yourself before. You thought getting rid of the sight was what you wanted, but then after the Tithe you realized you were wrong and couldn’t live your life not seeing. Are you sure that isn’t the case with this? This past week you’ve seemed… okay with it. With the things you can do. Excited even.”

/>   She’d told him in detail about her sessions with Mavek and how her abilities were getting stronger. She hadn’t realized that she’d sounded “excited” while doing so though.

  He straightened and held up both hands. “You don’t have to answer me—that’s not why I brought it up. I just… Whatever you decide in the end, I’ll stand by you, okay? Even if it’s… becoming one of them. You won’t, like, lose me because of that. Alright?”

  “You’re stuttering.” It was stupid, but it was the only thing she could think to say. Eskel didn’t stutter; he was usually so careful and controlled with his words that she sometimes felt like a fumbling idiot in front of him. Even when they flirted and he blushed, he always seemed in control of himself. Now though, he seemed unsure––maybe even awkward––and wouldn’t look her in the eyes, instead gazing around the room and rubbing his hands excessively on his thighs.

  Arden stood and he crossed his arms, only to drop them back at his sides once he seemed to realize what he’d done. She frowned.

  “Are you broken or something?”

  His eyes shot to hers so fast it was a wonder he didn’t get whiplash. “What?”

  “Why are you acting so strange? Is it because you think I’ll get upset?”

  “Aren’t you?” He tilted his head, inspecting her. “I’m sure I overstepped. It’s just… I had to say it. In case.”

  “In case what?”

  “In case I was one of the reasons you were trying so hard to do this.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth he groaned and rubbed at his face. “That sounded so arrogant.”

  “You know that I like you,” it’s not like it was a secret, “and I know that you like me. You’ve told me that wouldn’t change if I was an Unseelie, Eskel.”

  “Do you believe me?”

  “Yes.” She didn’t even have to think about her answer. Maybe at first, she hadn’t believed him. She’d thought he was just trying to make her feel better, to reassure her. But as the days had ticked by and they’d constantly come up empty handed, she’d started to trust there was more to it than that. When she really thought about it, hadn’t she been in love with an Unseelie herself? If anyone knew it was possible, she did.

  Eskel wouldn’t turn away from her just because they failed to keep her from turning fae—that was the one thing she was sure of now. It made all of this just a little bit more bearable. Arden wondered if she could tell him any of that though. Yes, she liked Eskel Montgomery, maybe even more than liked him, but liking him didn’t mean those feelings for Mavek were wiped completely clean. As much as she hated it, they still lingered. Was it fair to give Eskel more hope when she hadn’t fully cleared the Midnight King out of her system?

  She had no intention of ever getting back with Mavek…. But wanting for something didn’t make it a reality. How sure was she that he couldn’t one day convince her to forgive him? Especially since all the other people that he’d hurt, Tabitha, Eskel, were all telling her it was okay for her to? That they’d understand.

  How could they understand something she herself struggled with?

  “I’m sorry,” Eskel said then, breaking into her thoughts. “I’ve made things harder on you. You came here fine, and now you’re stuck in your head again. Let’s just forget I said anything at all, yeah? It was selfish of me to bring it up anyway.”

  Was he worried she was falling for Mavek again?

  “How about we check out the reading material for next semester? Since you’re here,” he suggested, twisting around to grab his book off the desk before heading over to plop next to her on the bed. They’d signed up for another lit class together. He started flipping through pages, seemingly unaware that his knee was pressed against her thigh or that she was staring at him.

  “I should actually probably go,” Arden said, voice trailing off at the end so it sounded almost more like a question than a statement. She cleared her throat.

  “Why? Because of Mavek?” Eskel glanced up at her, flashing her a half-smile that had her breath catching embarrassingly in her throat. “Who cares? You said it yourself, he doesn’t own you or anything.”

  “He could hurt you.”

  “He wants to get on your good side,” he reminded her, sitting up straight. “Messing with your friends isn’t really the way to do that. He’s not stupid. I don’t think he’ll actually do anything to me at all.”

  “If friends was all we were, I wouldn’t be so worried,” she said, then slapped a hand over her mouth. Eskel cocked his head, the air around him stilling and thickening, the atmosphere between them changing so quickly, it was suddenly hard for her to breathe.

  “I’m sorry,” his words were barely a whisper, and before she had the chance to ask him what about, he shifted forward. His hand pressed against the back of her neck, pulling her forward even as he leaned in, his warm mouth brushing over hers in less time than it took to blink.

  For a moment, they stayed like that, neither of them moving. Then Arden found herself reaching for him, tugging at the thin material of his shirt as she moved her mouth against his, coaxing him to deepen the kiss. He responded right away, leaping into action as if he’d been waiting for her permission. One second they were sitting, and the next he was lying on top of her, tongue stroking the roof of her mouth, teeth nipping her bottom lip.

  She’d almost forgotten how it felt to kiss him––all needy desperation. Like he’d bottled up years of yearning and she’d just unscrewed the lid. Her hands inadvertently gripped his hips, settling him more firmly between her legs. The smell of him, honeysuckle and ocean air, was heady, and she had the brief thought that it was stronger than even the sensation of faerie magic, and then he changed the angle of the kiss, causing her thoughts to scatter.

  Knocked by their movements, the heavy literature book slid off the edge of the bed, thumping loudly against the floor, but neither of them noticed. Arden simply pulled him closer, tilting her head to give him better access to her neck when he moved to trail his mouth over it. Part of her knew they were going too far for what was only a second kiss, but she wasn’t about to put a stop to it. She’d spent so much time keeping him at bay; if this was how it could be between them, she felt ridiculous for wasting all those opportunities to get them here sooner.

  He’d just dropped his mouth to hers again when another thump sounded, this one louder than the one made by the book. It came again, finally breaking through Arden’s concentration enough that she recognized it was coming from outside. Just as she was lifting her head toward it, something slammed into the window, and suddenly glass was flying everywhere. They both sprang off the bed, Eskel tugging her to the other side of the room toward the exit.

  A softball-sized hole had been made in his dorm window, the body of a large black crow hanging there. The creature’s head was inside the room, lifeless, glassy eyes staring their way. A trail of crimson rolled down the glass, a small puddle of it beginning to pool on the wooden ledge.

  “What the…” Eskel ran a hand through his hair and tugged Arden closer to him. The bird was clearly dead, but neither of them missed the threat it symbolized. “Animals don’t just commit suicide. Especially like that.”

  Arden gripped his hand, fingers laced through his, as she watched the winter wind blow lightly against a few of the bird’s tail feathers. Otherwise, it seemed eerily calm out there.

  “Do you think it was Mavek?” he asked.

  She didn’t know. It didn’t seem like something he would do, but then again, who knew what he was capable of? If he’d caught her and Eskel just now, it could be his doing.

  It could be someone else’s.

  At her silence, Eskel began collecting their things, grabbing his backpack off the floor and stuffing clothes into it quickly. It was difficult for him to do so one handed, but he refused to let go of her, carefully keeping her as far from the window over the bed as possible.

  “We should leave,” he told her once he’d tossed the strap of his bag over his shoulder. “I’ll alert
the RA through a text message about the window and tell her I’ve got somewhere else to stay until it’s fixed.”

  “We have seriously bad luck with windows,” she uttered. Her eyes had remained on the bird this whole time. She felt oddly numb on the inside.

  “Arden.” He let her hand go long enough to cup her face and force her to look at him. “Where do you want to go? Your place or Tabby’s?”

  It was late, close to midnight, and even though that’s where Arden had been planning to stay the night anyway, she found herself shaking her head at the suggestion. She didn’t want to bring trouble to Tabby’s doorstep.

  “Alright,” he said, “where to then? I’ll go wherever you want, just tell me the place.”

  She didn’t have to think too hard to know where she wanted to be right now. “Home,” she told him, “take me home.”

  “So this is where you grew up?” Eskel circled the living room, his boots squeaking softly against the hardwood floors. Over the mantel, a family portrait Arden hadn’t noticed the last time she’d been here still hung. He gave it a little extra attention, smiling slightly at her five-year-old face, before turning away and heading back to where she stood in the doorway.

  Arden had taken them across town to her old three-story home packed with all of her memories of happier times. She may have grown up with the sight and an absentee father, but this had still been the place she’d smiled the most growing up. To her, this house had always symbolized her “before.”

  Before her dad had died.

  Before her mom’s illness had taken over.

  Before she’d made the pact with Mavek and sent her sister away.

  “This was the last place my family was all together,” she told him, glancing around. They’d locked the door behind them—a futile precaution, really—and had kept most of the lights in the lower level off. Only the one in the foyer was on, its dim orange glow casting just enough light to see into the living and dining rooms. The wooden staircase in the center stretched upward into darkness, and Arden stared up at it silently for a moment. She couldn’t sense anything else in the house; they were alone.