by Sarah Peters
We sat with our legs dangling over the edge of the roof, and I couldn’t stop the completely involuntary gurgle of laughter which bubbled up my throat.
“This is perfect,” I declared, reclining so I could stare up at the night sky. The moon hung to the side, just a glinting crescent, a day or two away from the new moon. We were far enough from the city center that I could easily pick out constellations instead of being faced with the yellowish haze. I traced along Cassiopeia and up to the North Star, and then down to the Big Dipper.
“It’s a good spot,” Tobias agreed, settling onto his elbows, his eyes on the sky. “Not many people know about it—and not many students think to return to school after dark. It’s quiet.”
I folded my hands behind my head, trying to imagine Tobias feeling like he needed to get away from the other fairies. He wasn’t as cold-hearted as he appeared, I knew that, but he always did his best to come across as above-all-the-shit that it made something in my chest twinge to think of him escaping up to the roof for solitude and peace.
“Which one’s your favorite?” I asked. “Of all the constellations?”
He exhaled and it almost sounded like a laugh. “Who has a favorite constellation?”
“Mine is Pegasus,” I said, ignoring him. I pointed and traced the square body up to the neck and farthest point—the nose. “Fun fact, did you know that the brightest star in Pegasus is like 12 thousand times more luminous than our sun? Twelve thousand.”” I lowered my hand to my stomach and tapped my fingers against my sweatshirt. “It’s this freaking massive star, billions of years old, and we made it the nose of a horse. A flying horse, but still. That’s a star that’s seen some shit, and it takes light 700 years just to travel to us. And we squinted our eyes and we’re like, ‘yep, that there’s a Pegasus nose.’”
Tobias closed his eyes. “The queen told me once that the stars are different in the fey realm. They’d dance in their own stately parades across the sky, they’d talk to us, and sometimes, if you flew high enough, you could touch the edges of their blazing hair. They didn’t burn hot like your stars, but they were too bright to look at for long. Too bright and too beautiful.”
“Are they the same stars?” I wondered, my eyes on him. “Could we touch the hair of that star?”
He exhaled softly. “I don’t know. There aren’t many of us left who remember the Fey Realm, and fewer still who are willing to share stories about it.”
I turned my gaze from the heavens to him. “Do you think you’ll ever reopen the portals into the fey realm?”
He opened his eyes, and they glowed with the same light as a full moon. “Chances are high,” he muttered. His mouth was tight, and that wrinkle had appeared between his eyebrows again. Had talking about the fey realm pissed him off? But he was the one who’d brought it up—was it my question?
I tried a distraction tactic. “How high have you flown before? Do you get cold? Does your tail get cold?”
But he wasn’t having it. He sat up, and the tip of his tail tapped an unsteady beat against the shingles. “We should get down before it gets colder.” He pushed himself onto his feet.
“So soon?” I protested, scrambling to my feet and grabbing his arm for balance when my body swerved too close to the edge of the roof. “We just got up here!”
“I never specified a length of time for your flight,” he reminded me, all icy sleet falling sideways. But his hands were gentle when he wrapped them around me. “Hold on.”
I grabbed his shoulders as he hefted me and then launched himself off the side of the roof.
“I can’t believe you don’t have a favorite constellation,” I grumbled into his hair. “Such a waste of a night sky.”
The flight down was shorter than the flight up—more like controlled falling than anything—and we landed heavily on the sidewalk outside the gate.
Something chimed, and I recognized the sound of Tobias’ phone.
He let go of my waist and pushed a hand through his hair, frowning down at me.
From his butt pocket, the phone chimed again.
My eyes traveled down to his lean waist and he cleared his throat, probably because he was scared to have me ogle his butt. “My half of the deal is complete. Do you have the ring?”
I glanced up and met his eyes. No, I’d been right up on the roof. Something had changed. He’d gone all frosty.
Frankly, it was the opposite mood from what I’d been hoping for, but I was pretty sure being a dick and playing dumb about the ring wouldn’t put him in a more romantic mood.
I dug in my pocket and produced the ring. I held it for a second. Small, rusted, black under all the crud on it. “Is it important?”
“Important enough.” He held out his hand. “And I’ve delayed long enough making the exchange.”
As if in agreement, his phone beeped again. Another text message.
I dropped the ring into his hand.
Tobias exhaled, and slid the ring into a pocket on his jacket. He zipped it up. “The Queen and Court of the Winter Falls thank you for your assistance.” His voice came out stiff and formal, like a child forced to greet strangers politely.
Oh yes, of course. It wasn’t something he’d wanted for himself.
The reminder he was working for the Queen of the Winter Falls was most unwelcome. I tried to ignore the shiver of apprehension that crawled down my spine but didn’t quite succeed. “Spidey-senses are tingling,” I muttered. I wanted him to put his arm around my waist again, and I wanted to clutch his tail and make sure he didn’t slip away, but I had manners now that I was a Kissed Woman. I stuffed my hands into my pockets. “Please tell me that ring isn’t like, a doomsday device or something.”
He ignored the joke.
“By her Majesty's decree, the Court of the Winter Falls considers your offence to us paid in full and forgiven.”
Ummm what?
I stared at him. “What do you mean? They were pissed at me for losing out on 14 years of magic, and a tiny ring repaid all that?”
What the hell was that ring?!
He’d gone all cold and stiff, like a wet glove left out overnight in the dead of winter. Unpleasant to touch, resistant to softening.
“As such,” he continued with that same awful formality, “your dealings with the Court of the Winter Falls are officially terminated.” He lifted a claw towards my forehead, and instinct more than anything made me stumble back, out of his reach.
“What are you doing?!” I demanded, taking another step back when I saw the iciness of his eyes. Expressionless, without any of their usual light.
Crap crap crap.
“Your association with the Court of the Winter Falls is over,” he repeated. “As is customary, your memory will now be wiped.”
I swore and scrambled around his car. “Seriously?! Seriously, Tobias?!”
He walked towards me, unhurried, face stern, arm still extended.
I kept moving, circling the car. If I wasn’t freaking out—I’d laugh. Circling the car reminded me strongly of the games I’d play with Mars Mission, one of us chasing the other around the first floor, hiding behind doors and running in circles.
“Why’d you kiss me?!” I glared at him over the hood of the car. “What’s the point of spewing all that sappy stuff about me stealing your heart and then kissing me if—if you’re just going to make me forget?!”
Tobias paused too. His lips jerked into a small frown. “As my queen commands, I obey,” he said stiffly. “The kiss was irrelevant. Just another means to get you to comply.”
He walked towards me again, and I ducked around the car, making sure to keep my distance from him.
“Irrelevant?!”
My face grew hot despite my best efforts and my eyes stung. Ugh, stupid Tobias.
I…I was pretty sure I knew what he was doing. Trying to chase me off like a wolf raised among dogs, one that’d outgrown its pen and couldn’t learn manners. One that needed to be kicked out in order to be set free. Throwing st
ones to make me run.
I mean, I was pretty sure.
But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.
“I’ll beat you up if you lay a hand on me,” I snapped. I slapped my hands against his car and saw his eyebrow twitch in annoyance. “And then I’ll beat up your car.”
“Is that a promise?” he asked, some of the usual glow returning to his pale eyes. It was a dangerous, steady glow, like an anglerfish luring prey to its maw.
“I’m done making promises with you.” I kicked the bumper of the car for good measure and muttered, “you’d better not make me forget.”
He stopped trying to follow me, and we stared at each other. I knew my face was red, I knew my eyes shone with unshed tears, and I knew I trembled. He looked like stone, expressionless, frozen, unmovable.
“You said I stole your heart,” I reminded him when the silence stretched too long. “You said I stole it long before you knew I was the Champion, way before I pissed everyone off. That couldn’t have been part of your evil ploy to trick me into liking you and giving up the ring.”
His eyebrows narrowed and his shoulders, if possible, got stiffer. “We like to play with humans,” he said, reminiscent of a sheet of harsh winter wind stripping away the last autumn leaves. “And make deals they can’t win. No human can lie to me, but I am free to lie as I please to your kind.”
But I’d felt his hands on me, pulling into the kiss, drawing me out of danger, holding me as we jumped off the stage in our mad dash from the fairy party. I’d seen that fond, exasperated smile in the diner.
“I don’t believe you.”
His lips curled, and he lifted an eyebrow. “It doesn’t matter what you believe. Your association with the Court of the Winter Falls, and myself as the queen’s representative, is over.” He took a step forward and I backed up, but he only grabbed the door of his car and pulled it open. With one final glare, he got inside, slammed the door behind him, and started the car.
“You’re not that good of a liar,” I retorted as the car pulled away. The first tear finally broke free, and it slid down my cheek, hot and salty. “I don’t believe you.”
But he’d left me.
Alone, miles from home, and in the middle of the woods.
I clenched my fists.
He’d left me alone in the dark, far from home, in a forest. No phone, no ride back, no one knowing where I was.
Screw beating up his car.
I was going to murder Tobias Monday.
Dealing with Rage the Healthy Way
I’m normally scared of the dark. Like, not so much that I can’t go outside at night, but enough that if I’m walking alone somewhere without lights, I pick up my pace lest a vampire grab my ankles or a werewolf decide I’m easy pickings.
Apparently, all it took for me to overcome my fear of supernatural snackers was a bruised heart and incendiary wrath.
I barely noticed the dark forest as I stomped down the street. Who cared about dumb bats or owls or coyotes or that mountain lion that Keith O’Brien swore he saw last week?!
The farther I got, the deeper my ire grew. I wasn’t just mad at Tobias, I decided. I was mad at all of them. All of them, starting with Jake and Anna, at the Winter Queen, Bo, that weird cornpumpkin baby, and ending with that stupid Corn King.
How dare the Corn King try to kidnap Finn?! And how DARE he replace Finn with Bo, who was lacking in every possible way and the worst replacement ever for my best friend?! Who did that corny idiot think he was, stealing my Finn?!
By the time I crossed the river, I was ready to key all their cars. I didn’t know if the Corn King had a car but that was irrelevant. And if that evil ice queen of the Winter Falls ever showed her face to me again, I’d throw a bag of Mars’ poop at her. Who did she think she was, and what right did she have to boss Tobias around?! I’m sure it was because of her that he felt the need to hide up on the roof of his preppy school. And what was her problem, ordering him to trick me into liking him and taking magical rings from me and then making me forget?!
Ok, so technically he hadn’t actually wiped my memory.
But it was the intention that mattered. He’d been serious about it.
I smacked my fist into my palm.
And Tobias! Was he stupid enough to think I’d believe him?! He liked me all right, and I’d make sure he never forgot it.
I gnashed my teeth.
First things first, though.
I couldn’t yell at Tobias, but I could resolve one of my problems.
Finn.
I don’t know how long it took me to get to my neighborhood, but my feet hurt and I shivered uncontrollably. Instead of heading to my house, though, I marched towards the ravine.
I finally came to a stop in front of Finn’s. The lights were all out, but this wasn’t my first rodeo. Wasn’t even my second. Finn and I had been friends for long enough that I knew exactly where to hit his window with a pebble to get his attention.
Here’s hoping Mr. Bountiful Harvest was as light a sleeper as Finnrito.
I grabbed a good-looking pebble out of Mrs. Brooks’ front garden, took a few calculated steps back, and chucked it at Finn’s bedroom window. It hit it with a satisfying blat.
Nothing.
I picked a handful and in rapid-fire lobbed them at his window.
Bo’s shadow appeared just as I released the last pebble, and I saw him jerk away when it slammed against the window.
He glared down at me but slid the window open anyway.
“What are you doing here?” he hissed. “Do you have any idea what time it is?!”
As a matter of fact, I did not.
“Get down here,” I hissed back. I pointed at the ground in front of me. “And bring your car keys!”
I hadn’t even wondered, until that moment, how Bo got home after Becca hijacked Finn’s car. Whatever, he’d made it back safe and sound.
“Absolutely not!” Bo whispered. “Go away!”’
I’m not really a violent person, but I took a pebble and chucked it at him.
It hit his shoulder and giving me a furious glare, he slammed the window shut.
But a minute later he was opening the front door, still in the process of pulling one of Finn’s sweatshirts over his head.
“What are you doing here?”
I glowered at him. “You’re going to take me to Finn. Right now.”
Bo rolled his eyes and exhaled in annoyance. Clearly he had no idea how full of fury I was. “It’s the middle of the night. Can’t this wait until the weekend?”
“No.” I grabbed his arm. “Take me there now.”
“Or what?”
“Or,” I threatened, pulling him close to me, “I tell Finn’s parents the truth about you.”
He stared at me with Finn’s face. “Technically, they’re my parents to begin with,” he replied after a long, long second. “They’d be delighted to know I’m their real son, and not some imposter.”
I could see that he didn’t believe his own words. My wrath got the better of me. “She doesn’t like you as much, does she?” I jerked my head towards the house. “Mrs. Brooks. She knows something’s wrong, I bet. She knows you’re not the son she loves.”
Bo’s face paled under the streetlight. “I don’t care,” he snapped. “She never noticed when I was switched, did she? She didn’t even notice her actual son had been replaced with another baby. I have my own family now, one who actually wants me. Who cares what she thinks now?”
“Obviously you,” I scoffed. But I couldn’t do this alone. I needed Bo to find Finn. And I needed Finn to prove I could hold onto something. And to cut myself off from the fairies for good. “C’mon. Take me to where Finn is. I’ll make sure he stays here, and you can go back to your own family. The one that wants you.”
Bo didn’t answer for a few seconds. When he finally did, he shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out his car keys. “He’s not going to just let him go, you know. My father, the Corn King. He’s still showing
Finn off, he’s still a prized possession.”
“I don’t care what the Corn King has to say about it,” I retorted. “I’m mad and I want something to go right, and that something is going to be getting my best friend back.”
Some of my anger simmered off as Bo drove.
He’d put on Classical Radio as if that was something normal teenagers listened to and drove unsteadily out of the neighborhood.
What exactly was I planning on doing?!
I pressed a hand against my head but clamped my mouth shut. Like heck I’d show Bo how my fury had suddenly been replaced by fear.
It’d taken me like ten hours to escape from the Court of the Golden Sun last time. I had school tomorrow and couldn’t risk any wild fairy parties again.
Luckily, Bo turned into the parking lot for Summerhill Country Club before I could start second guessing myself even more.
“The country club?” I asked blankly.
“There’s a private residence only accessible from this side,” Bo replied, his eyes on the drive, his hands gripping the wheel. “And who do you think owns the club?”
My eyes widened in delight. “Fairies!” I pressed myself against the window, my wrath momentarily forgotten. “I love secret societies and this is the best one yetttt.” I looked for signs of fairy involvement, but we just passed the main club room, the gym, the outdoor pool, the golf course, and the tennis courts, looking ordinary, if expensive.
I’d only been to Summerhill Country Club once, long ago in elementary school, for a classmate’s birthday party. Jake Wildern and I had monkeyed around in the pool the whole time, getting into a splashing battle despite the put-upon lifeguard’s protests. I’d never been this far down the drive, all the way past the golf course.
It ended in a cul-de-sac with a single, massive, palatial colonial mansion surrounded by luscious gardens and fruit heavy trees. I was pretty certain—like, strongly confident—that strawberries were out of season, and yet, there was a whole bush laden with fruit, mixed among raspberry and blueberry bushes.