Tithe

by Chani Lynn Feener

  “What?” His interest was clearly piqued.

  “Usual, Arden?” George had turned in his busboy apron for a waiter’s equivalent and appeared next to them.

  She lifted a brow at Eskel and when he waved her on, giving her the go-ahead to place her order, she smirked. “Yes, thank you.”

  “He doesn’t talk much,” Eskel said when the boy turned on his heels to leave, “does he?”

  “That or he hates me,” she shrugged. “I’ve never been able to figure out which it is.”

  “Does he have reason to hate you?”

  “Not that I can recall. But people are fickle creatures.” She thought of the Unseelie and almost retracted, and broadened, that statement.

  “What did you order us, anyway?”

  “I’ll never tell.”

  “I guess you don’t really have to. I’ll know soon enough.”

  “About ten minutes or so.”

  He laughed and shook his head, sending blond tendrils falling across his forehead. When he brushed them aside she noticed the ring on his right middle finger. Catching her staring, he held it out, tapping the inside of the band with his thumb.

  “It was my brother’s.”

  The thick band was inscribed with vines and ivy, and a diamond shape with an odd insignia she didn’t recognize nestled at its center. The whole ring was a dark silver shade, maybe pewter, and very old. Certainly older than someone who’d only been sixteen at the time would have owned.

  “Was it a family heirloom?” The marking could be a family crest. It did sort of look like one.

  “If so, my dad never mentioned it.”

  “He was an interesting fellow, your brother,” she concluded, sipping from the lukewarm water George had placed in front of them after cleaning the table. There wasn’t a single ice cube in it.

  He must hate her.

  “You have no idea.” Eskel seemed to retreat then, and she left him to his musings.

  After her mother’s first episode, Arden had sat for a whole three hours staring at a blank wall outside the hospital room. Her sister had been talking at her side, only she couldn’t recall a single word Ainsley had spoken.

  Someone dropped into the booth and slid down next to her, jolting her. She twisted and shoved back against the wall to get as far away from the newcomer as possible, then glared when it turned out to be Cato.

  “You again.”

  “That’s not very welcoming, Heartless.” Eskel frowned at them across the table, catching Cato’s attention. “Hello, you must be the new boy in town.”

  Eskel’s eyes bounced between the two of them questioningly. “Is that what people are saying?”

  “No,” Cato shook his head, his eyes on Arden as he spoke to Eskel, “no one’s saying anything about you at all. Isn’t that interesting?”

  “New students enroll at Thornbrooke all the time,” Arden practically growled.

  “Relax,” Cato settled back against the cushiony booth, “this time he did send me. You left so quickly. He was concerned.”

  Mavek had never sent anyone after her before… that she knew of. And why would he choose Cato, of all people? He could be lying, the Unseelie were known for as much, yet to what end? Deciding that it didn’t matter, she reached out and shoved at his shoulder.

  He didn’t so much as budge.

  “Leave, Cato,” she demanded. “I don’t have time for this.”

  “You’re about to eat a meal with a Bloodheart boy, Arden,” his tone hardened warningly, “I say that means you have all the time in the world. Are you really that confident?”

  He was referring to the upcoming fight against the other Heartless, and she did not like the reminder. Unfortunately, because the Tithe affected them all, it was sort of his business to ask, and that only infuriated her more.

  “She told you to go,” Eskel said. “So go.”

  Cato canted his head, inspecting him. “If I don’t? What will you do?”

  “Cat—”

  “Shh.” He held a hand before her face. “I’m curious. What will you do to me, Bloodheart?”

  “That is enough.” She shoved him again, this time harder, and Cato actually slid half an inch across the vinyl. When he blinked at her in shock she snarled, “Yes, I am that confident. Now. Get. Out.”

  He stood and adjusted his jacket. Right before he turned away, however, he bent down and whispered against her ear, “Don’t forget what you are, Arden. It wouldn’t be fair. Not to any of us.”

  “What did he say?” Eskel asked the moment Cato’s back was turned. He watched the Unseelie exit the pizza place and disappear down a side street.

  “It doesn’t matter.” Fortunately George returned, setting down their pizza and delivering plates for each of them. She waved at the food when Eskel didn’t move. “Aren’t you curious anymore about what you’re going to eat?”

  He glanced down with resignation, and the furrow between his brows actually deepened. “Are those… apples?”

  “Yup.” She selected a particularly large slice and dropped it onto her plate. “Apple slices, mozzarella, parmesan, a little cheddar, and bacon. Trust me, it’s phenomenal.”

  “I’ve never even heard of this combination.” Tentatively, almost as if he were afraid it was going to bite him instead of the other way around, he took a piece.

  “It’s not on the menu,” she divulged. “They make it specially for Tabby and me.”

  “The girl from lunch.” He took a small bite, chewed slowly and was clearly thinking it over. A second later, he took another much larger bite, nodding his head as he did so. “Okay. Kudos, this is phenomenal. Who would have thought?”

  “Tabby and I,” she said, “duh. Granted, we were ten. And it started out as a dare. Apples were the strangest thing we could think of at the time.”

  He quirked up a pale blond brow. “Really? That was the strangest thing?”

  “Shut up. Like I said, we were young.”

  “And not very imaginative.”

  She crumpled her napkin and tossed it at him. “What would you have come up with then?”

  “Escargot?” he suggested.

  “I don’t think you’ll find many snails in these parts,” she stated. “At least, not of the eating variety anyway.”

  “Shrimp?”

  “That’s been done.” She shook her head and selected another slice.

  He snapped his fingers like he’d just come up with the most brilliant idea ever created. “I got it. Peaches!”

  She snatched his napkin away and tossed that next.

  A half hour later they’d polished off the entire large pie and were waiting for George to return with Eskel’s credit card.

  “I’ve got cash,” she insisted for the third time, only to be waved off yet again.

  “You get next time.” Which implied that he intended for there to be a next time.

  Not sure how she felt about that, Arden went silent. Cato’s words echoed through her head, taunting her, and she struggled not to let them ruin what had actually turned into a pretty decent night. They’d eaten together and they got along. It didn’t have to mean anything more than that. And if it was truly nothing, they could do it again. Right?

  Once he’d gotten his card back and had slipped it into his wallet they left, retrieving her bike and then standing there awkwardly.

  When he didn’t make a move, she began leading again, instinctually heading in the direction of her house. The streets weren’t nearly as crowded as they’d been before, but she wasn’t too concerned about running into anyone. The party was probably still going on at Rose Manor, which meant that the rest of the Unseelie were too occupied to be wandering about.

  “You’re in the dorms?” she asked when they neared the road that would take them to campus.

  “I am.” He licked his lips and hesitated before saying in a casual voice, “I’ll walk you home though.”

  “You don’t have to.” But she didn’t stop walking, and neither did he as they
passed the turn-off.

  “I don’t have anything else to do anyway. I finished the reading for lit. after our weird encounter at lunch.” He rapped his knuckles against her bike. “Do you ride this thing everywhere?”

  “Only to places I want to go.”

  “Funny,” he drawled, though the corner of his mouth lifted before he turned away.

  “No car yourself?”

  “Oh, no, I have one. I just prefer walking.” He shrugged.

  She bit her lip and then said, “You shouldn’t. Not after dark. If you have to go somewhere, take your car.”

  “And stick to the more populated areas?” he teased.

  “That won’t make a difference.” Her hands tightened on the handlebars. She shouldn’t be talking to him like this. If Tabby were here, her friend would merely think Arden was hyping up the town’s folktales. If anyone else happened to be lurking about however…

  She tried to casually glance around, searching for signs of copper hair and annoying gray eyes. If Cato was still stalking her, she couldn’t see him.

  “You take these ghost stories pretty seriously, huh?” he said.

  “They aren’t ghost stories,” she corrected. “Ghosts aren’t real. The Unseen are.” They turned onto her street and her tiny house came into view. She’d left the porch light on, and the one in the living room, and for a moment she allowed herself to imagine that her mom and Ainsley were in there, waiting for her.

  Then she shook the thought away and sighed.

  “This is me.” Arden rolled her bike down the narrow drive and lifted it onto the back porch out of sight of the street. Then she walked back toward the front door. All the while Eskel kept close to her side.

  He stopped when she started up the front steps, and she shook the keys in her hand to buy her some time.

  “Do you want to come in?” The only people who’d set foot inside since she’d sent Ainsley away were Tabby and Mavek. Her mother hadn’t been inside even longer than that, almost two years. The doctors had placed her in a special care facility when her episodes had started increasing in frequency.

  Eskel shifted on his feet, staring past her at the empty house. Then he shook his head. “Next time.”

  “All right.” She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed. “I guess I’ll see you in class then.”

  “We don’t have class together again until Monday,” he said. “How about Saturday? There’s a diner I’ve been meaning to try. We passed by it on our way into town.”

  “O’Malley’s.” She shook the keys again. “Okay.”

  “I’ll text you then.”

  Not wanting to be repetitive and sound like an idiot, she nodded and then unlocked her door and stepped in without a backward glance. She did, however, brush the edge of the curtain aside so she could watch him walk back down the street where he was swallowed once more by the night.

  As she turned away from the window, the curtain brushed against the rose that was lodged behind her ear. It finally fell out, and she stumbled as she caught her foot from crushing it.

  “So?” Tabby peered over the paper cup of coffee she held to her mouth. The mischievous twinkle in her eye gave her away.

  “So, what?” Arden played dumb, sipping at her own pumpkin spice latte, and stared out the cafeteria window. She didn’t have any classes on Friday, but she met her friend here for coffee every morning.

  “Did you end up hanging out with that Eskel guy?”

  Arden rolled her eyes and let out an annoyed sigh. Knowing that it wouldn’t be enough for her friend to let it go, she propped her elbows onto the table and admitted, “For a little bit.”

  “No way.” Tabby’s eyes widened and she mirrored her move so that they were leaning toward each other conspiratorially. “You actually did it? You actually went out with someone who isn’t me?”

  “Hey.” She lightly slapped Tabby’s arm with the back of her hand. “I have friends. And it wasn’t a date or anything.”

  “But you like him?”

  “He’s cool.” Did she like him? “He’s actually kind of a bit odd.”

  “Perfect.” Tabby tapped her fingers against the table in an offbeat rhythm. “You’re strange, he’s strange. Works out perfectly.”

  Arden tilted her head, narrowing her eyes in mock suspicion. “Why do I get the feeling you’re trying to set me up? You don’t even know him. He could be a psycho.”

  “Not any more so than the guy you’re already seeing,” she mumbled, then pulled back when she realized she’d spoken out loud. “Look, Mavek gives me the creeps. I’m literally never going to understand what you see in him. But Eskel… he seems nice. Fresh.”

  “He isn’t meat.” Arden didn’t bother commenting on Mavek; this wasn’t the first time her best friend had voiced her opinion on him. Even not knowing what he really was, Tabby could sense that something was off about him, and there was no way Arden could set her straight by revealing he was Unseelie.

  Tabby started to argue but then turned and glared at something out the window. “Speak of the devil.”

  Arden looked up and spied Mavek, standing in the distance, just inside the edge of the forest. He was watching her, though he wasn’t close enough for her to discern his expression.

  “Why does he do that? It’s so creepy,” Tabby said. “If he can afford a coat like that he can get a damn cell phone like the rest of the world.”

  The mortal world, anyway. The Unseelie had difficulty operating electronic devices, like cell phones and computers. Paradoxically though, they could drive cars. But even if Mavek did have a phone, he’d probably still choose this low-tech mode of communication: when he wanted to talk, he showed up.

  Arden rose from her seat and shrugged when her friend glared at her.

  “Fine, whatever,” Tabby called. “Eventually you’re going to have to realize how stupid this all is!”

  Tabitha thought Mavek had taken advantage of Arden’s grief over her mom, swooping in like some dark knight to tempt and manipulate her. She knew they weren’t dating, but also that Arden loved him. To an independent woman like Tabby, the fact that he didn’t return those feelings yet kept coming around meant he was no good.

  Arden carried her half-cup of coffee with her as she exited the dining hall, moving toward where she’d spotted him. As she came nearer, he turned and disappeared into the trees, forcing her to follow.

  For a few minutes she trailed after him, catching sight of the back of his head or the tail end of his coat, only to see him disappear and reappear in seemingly random locations. She gritted her teeth, annoyed that this was turning out to be another test. It was too early in the day for this.

  Finally, she brushed through a few low-hanging branches and entered a small circular clearing. A large, ancient oak crowned the center, surrounded by red-and-white spotted toadstools that formed a faerie ring around the tree. Mavek stood inside the ring, leaning against the massive tree trunk.

  She stopped just outside the ring, lifting her cup to her lips pointedly. He’d come to her, not the other way around.

  “I see Tabitha still doesn’t approve of me,” he said, his voice low and husky. He watched her from beneath long sooty lashes, feigning casualness.

  “Can you blame her?”

  “Did you tell her something?”

  “And how would that conversation go?” she inquired. “‘Hey, Tab, don’t hate him. See, he creeps you out because he’s really one of the Unseen, AKA a faerie. Oh, and he’s going to help me break a centuries-old curse placed on my family forever ago! All I have to do is fight off two others cursed just like me and hope my sacrifice is accepted in this thing called a Tithe.’”

  His expression never wavered. “You could have simply said no.”

  “No.” She took another sip. “I didn’t tell her anything. I know the rules.”

  “Do you?”

  Arden froze, the cup halfway to her lips, before regaining her composure. She shouldn’t be shocked. She’d known C
ato would tell Mavek about finding her at the pizza place hanging with a Bloodheart boy. He’d practically told her he would right there at the table.

  “Yes,” was all she said.

  Mavek sighed, the sound tight, the first sign he wasn’t as composed as he wanted her to think. “Titania wants to see you again. I have word that the Erlking will also be arriving later this evening. The number of Unseelie in this town is about to rise tenfold. You need to be extra cautious.”

  “She caught me off guard last night,” she told him. “I’ll be more polite. Promise.”

  “Good.” He nodded his head and straightened. “Being one of the Heartless won’t protect you if the queen decides you’ve offended her. She doesn’t forgive easily, Arden. Tread lightly in her presence.”

  He’d divulged very little about Titania, or the Erlking for that matter. Most of what Arden knew she’d gathered on her own, doing research in the town’s single library or surfing the internet. Still, she had enough knowledge to understand that they weren’t creatures she wanted as enemies, which was already a possibility considering that she was indirectly their competition.

  The Unseelie all wanted the same thing: a willing sacrifice for the Tithe, but long ago, they found a way to make it more interesting. They created a game of sorts, with cursed humans as their pawns. Every seven years, Heartless champions were selected and trained to represent each Unseelie regent, though the specifics of the actual challenge varied each time. When she’d first learned that humans were being used for faerie gain, that a cure for their curse was being used against them, Arden had been angry. She’d almost refused Mavek’s offer.

  But then they’d found her mother dangling outside the window with a bed sheet wrapped around her neck.

  “Is that why you sent Cato after me?” She didn’t want to think about her mother, or her reasoning for doing this anymore.

  He had the good sense to appear guilty, and although Arden knew better, she already felt her anger fading. “You were upset when you left. I told the queen you weren’t feeling well so she would excuse your sudden departure.”

  Arden felt her phone buzzing in her back pocket but ignored it. Chances were good it was just Tabby, but if it happened to be Eskel…