Tithe

by Chani Lynn Feener

  “Sure.” Tabby finished off her coffee. “But why?”

  Tabby knew why, so Arden didn’t respond beyond narrowing her eyes at her friend warningly and then rolling them when she caught Eskel watching. After all the questions he’d asked her earlier, the last thing she needed was for him to find out and become curious about Mavek.

  Cole suddenly stood and mumbled something about grabbing coffee.

  “I should actually get going,” Eskel said then.

  “Me too.” Arden grabbed her empty cup and waved it at Tabby. “Thanks for tonight.”

  “Well, I kind of owe you,” Tabby motioned with her head toward Cole’s back.

  There really wasn’t anything to say to that, so Arden and Eskel left, tossing their cups into the trash bin at the door. Once outside, they paused by her bike. Part of her wanted to hang out for a bit, but the other part was worried that he’d persist in asking about the Unseelie now that they were alone. There was only so much she could tell him, and a lot of it she already had.

  “I have to go,” he said.

  She tried not to feel disappointed because that was best, wasn’t it? Safer for the both of them.

  “Okay.” She unlocked her bike. When she looked up, he was still standing there.

  “They’re playing Labyrinth at the theater tomorrow,” he indicated the old movie theater across the street a few buildings over. “Do you want to go? I checked the times already, there’s one at noon. It’s early, but I figure it’ll be less crowded.”

  “I never turn down a chance to listen to Bowie sing,” she said, even though she knew she shouldn’t. What harm could it do though, really? They were just hanging out.

  “Or see goblins,” he added, but the half smile he wore showed he was only teasing.

  Arden cocked her head, watching him closely for signs of the disbelief she’d come to expect from experience. “You believe me, don’t you? Why?”

  It didn’t look like he was going to tell her at first, then he sighed and adjusted the strap of his backpack. “My old town was haunted. And I’ve seen things, bad things, happen to people for seemingly no reason. I thought they were malicious spirits or something like that.”

  “They’re like that,” she clarified, straddling her bike. “Some of them, anyway.”

  He moved to partially block her way when she lifted a foot to the pedal. “Why should I avoid the birches?”

  “Ghillie Dhu,” she said, pronouncing it, “gillee doo.”

  Eskel looked bewildered so she took off before he could ask another question. She waved over her shoulder, not even sure if he was still watching. It was nice talking to someone about the Unseelie again, someone who didn’t think she was being childish—what Tabby often accused her of being—or crazy—what Cole had thought but never said out loud.

  As her mind turned to Cole, her good mood soured. He hadn’t grown up in this town, with all its folktales and legends. His mom had moved them here during Arden’s junior year of high school. By then, she was old enough to know better than to speak about the things she saw. Besides, her mom’s curse had not yet become too strong for her mom to handle, so it’d been simple enough for Arden to keep quiet about the shadows moving on their own, or the tree branches that weren’t branches at all, but twisted arms and disjointed fingers. Or the bulbous creatures that filled the lake Cole and Tabby used to swim in behind their grandmother’s house. A lake Arden had never so much as dipped a toe into.

  She’d kept those things a secret and everything had been great. For the first time she’d had a boyfriend, someone who really cared about her, who liked being around her. Up until that point, her only real friends had been Tabby and Cato, the odd boy from the woods that no one else could see. She’d been a quiet child and this was a small town, so growing up they’d had classes with the same fifty or so kids.

  Arden turned onto the road that led to her street, trying to bandage her old wounds. She’d been a wreck when Cole had left her, breaking things off through a crackly voice message. Tabby had told her later that he’d left town, opting to head off to Pennsylvania a few weeks early.

  He was older by a year and even though she’d known their relationship probably wouldn’t last, they’d both agreed to give the long-distance thing a shot. In his message, he’d tried to convince her that he was breaking up with her because he’d realized it wouldn’t work, that it’d be harder to try.

  But she’d known the truth.

  Cole hadn’t wanted to associate himself with the girl with the crazy mom. He’d probably wondered if the trait was hereditary and feared attaching himself to someone who would eventually go insane as well.

  Arden snorted. Technically, he would have been right. If not for Mavek. Now, she had a chance to change that for herself, her sister, and all future generations of their family. She’d—hopefully—die of a ripe old age, having been the epitome of excellent mental health her entire life, all the while waving a mental image of her middle finger Cole’s way. She could, at least, admit to herself that she was hurt and bitter about his attitude and course of action.

  It wasn’t so much that he’d broken her heart; rather, he had abandoned her when she needed him most.

  Arden was so caught up in the past that she almost didn’t see the Unseelie in time. One second, there was nothing but green and the forest to her right, and the next he was materializing straight into her path.

  With a curse Arden slammed on the breaks, almost biting her tongue off when he gripped the center of the handle bars to help stop her. The momentum almost knocked her forehead against his, but he was faster than she was, pulling back just in time with a slight chuckle.

  “What. The. Hell?!” She dropped the bike to the ground and slammed both hands against his chest despite knowing it was useless. It was also dangerous. Getting physical with one of them, or merely displaying a weapon, could be taken as a sign of war. Right now she was too pissed at him to care.

  “Where are you coming from, Heartless?” Cato made a big show of looking over her shoulder toward the center of town.

  What was up with the men in her life suddenly returning after a lengthy hiatus of silence?

  “What do you want, Cato?” she demanded. “And don’t spout some bullshit about Mavek having sent you. What is going on?”

  His eyes hardened, any of the playfulness he’d been giving off disappearing in a blink. Proof that he’d always been good at making others see the version of him that he wanted them to see.

  “You aren’t being careful, Arden,” he said. “You’re going to get people hurt.”

  “No, I’m not.” She crossed her arms. “And if that’s really how you feel, how come you didn’t tell Mavek about my new friend?”

  “Because you told me that’s all he was.” Cato held her gaze. “That’s still true, isn’t it?”

  “Of course.”

  “If they find out about him—”

  “What?” she stubbornly cut him off. She’d been shielded, for the most part, from the darker sides of the Unseelie, thanks to Mavek. But she’d still heard the stories, like the one about the girl and the kelpie, and others far worse.

  Incidents like that hadn’t taken place in this town since, however. Fifty years of harmless tricks and spooks, but no deaths or maiming. No true harm. That was all Mavek’s doing as well. Most of his kind looked down on humans—or they held little to no interest. This close to the Tithe though, things might be different. The Tithe was too important to them all.

  “You know what,” Cato said softly, as if sensing the dark rabbit hole her thoughts had just tumbled down. “Every second you spend with that boy alone is a second you put his life in danger. The Arden I know would never want that.”

  “I don’t.” She gritted her teeth and picked up her bike. As much as she hated hearing it, especially coming from him, he was right. Her feelings had been hurt the other night when she’d walked in on Mavek and Titania, and she’d selfishly gotten involved with Eskel to make herself fe
el better.

  And now he was getting too close to the truth, and she’d done nothing to stop him. Her warnings would only go so far, even if he took them seriously.

  She was pushing the bike past Cato, assuming the conversation was over, when his next words stopped her.

  “Good. Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “What?” she gaped at him, searching his expression for some sign that it was a joke.

  “At the movies,” he elaborated, as if she hadn’t been able to follow his reference. “You can’t be alone with him, so I’ll be there.”

  “That’s not…” Arden shook her head. “No.”

  She didn’t bother being surprised that he knew exactly what their plans were.

  Cato grinned and leaned toward her, balancing on the tips of his toes so that he could bring his face closer. “I wasn’t asking. Tomorrow, Heartless. Good day.” He disappeared back within the trees faster than she could think of another protest.

  Arden cursed under her breath and started walking, wheeling her bike next to her. She needed to think.

  Too bad she wasn’t going to get it.

  Not five minutes after Cato had gone, she felt a shiver run down her spine and stilled. At first she couldn’t see anyone, but she felt their eyes on her, pinning her in place. She thought about the creepy Unseelie hunting yesterday, and hoped that whatever was currently spying on her wasn’t the same creature.

  When another boy stepped from behind a large oak on her left, she momentarily thought it was Cato. Then the sunlight caught him, showing off his features.

  He did look similar to Cato, in the sense that they both had red hair, though this boy’s was more rust colored than the flame of her old friend’s. His eyes were the brightest green she’d ever seen, and he was wearing a high-collared jacket the color of dying autumn leaves. A string of shiny, black beads was strung around his neck and a single inky crow feather was tucked behind his left ear.

  The boy stopped and rested back against the tree, crossing his arms and ankles. He watched her unblinkingly, silently challenging her to approach. The corner of his mouth tipped upward when she slowed, then broke out into a full grin when she picked up the pace once more.

  “Hello.” She stopped on the side of the road, far enough that she felt safe—even knowing that there was no way she could outrun an Unseelie—but close enough she wouldn’t have to yell.

  “Hello,” he mimicked, and that was it. He just stood there and patiently waited.

  Arden hadn’t seen him before, which meant he’d come with either Titania’s party or the Erlking’s. She wasn’t in a rush to befriend any of their faeries so she turned her head and started moving.

  He soon fell into step at her side, keeping to the grassy area that lined the road. His hands were in the pockets of his brown pants, and his head was angled toward her. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of his shadow trailing between them, sometimes mirroring him, and other times not.

  After the shadow held its hands up to the side of its head and waved them around mockingly, she growled and snapped her attention back to him.

  “It does that sometimes,” the boy explained, pausing to glance down at the gray, massless version of himself. Then he chucked his chin in the direction of her house. “May I walk you, Arden Rose Archer?”

  Her blood chilled. “You know my full name.”

  “I do.” He fell silent once more, watching her with that creepy, unwavering gaze.

  “How?”

  “It was freely given.” He tipped his head at her. “We’ve met before. But you were a little thing then.” He held his hand palm down, right above his knee.

  Arden frowned. She’d met Cato around ten and she recalled him perfectly well. If she really had met this faerie, it must have been long before then. Back when she was young and naïve enough to give out her full name to a complete stranger. Especially one that looked like he did.

  “I don’t remember you.”

  “I am aware.” He glanced up and squinted at the sun, then a noise she couldn’t hear caught his attention from the woods at his back. After peering into the trees, he turned and waved a hand. “We should be on our way, Arden Archer. It doesn’t do well to linger.”

  Whatever he’d heard in the woods wasn’t anything good. Unless, of course, he was the bad one, and the good one was in there.

  “Fine.” What would it matter in the long run? Most of them already knew where she lived anyway. “I like to know the names of my travel companions.”

  “It’s Brix.” He tipped the brim of an imaginary hat, smiling to expose sparkling white teeth. “Brix Brisbane, to be fair.”

  “Are you friends with Cato?” she asked. “You look a bit alike.”

  “Do we?” His shadow began spinning in circles at his feet, but he hardly noticed. “I was just checking out the town. It’s been a while since I was last here. Of course, it’ll change again soon enough. Next week is the equinox, after all.”

  Arden grimaced. She’d forgotten that next Thursday was the first official day of fall, also known as the autumn equinox.

  “The nights will soon be longer than the day,” Brix continued, but she merely nodded.

  This year she’d been so distracted that she hadn’t paid much attention to the flyers posted all around town. The Harvest Festival was next weekend, an annual town event. Then there was the party the Unseelie would throw on the equinox itself…

  Last year Arden hadn’t been invited, because she hadn’t yet been officially chosen as Mavek’s Heartless. Or at least, she hadn’t officially agreed to it. Her mom had been dead less than a month and she’d been too caught up in the funeral arrangements and trying to get her aunt to take Ainsley. Allowing Arden to stay had been another battle, considering she’d been underage and legally couldn’t live alone.

  Mavek had taken care of that though, wielding his faerie magic to convince her aunt that staying for her senior year of high school was for the best.

  The townsfolk told stories about nights of supposed supernatural celebration like the equinox. All the tales spoke of bright lights and dancing and music, but also of terror and kidnapping. Three years ago, Jeffries, an elderly man who lived a couple blocks from Arden, claimed he’d spotted them dancing in the field behind his house, and when he’d gone out to investigate they’d chased him with burning torches.

  Not very creative, but no one had been hurt, and because of that Arden believed it was true. Mischief would abound. It would be better if she stayed home.

  She was required to be there this year, however. Her position demanded it.

  “You got lost there for a moment,” Brix said when she looked up. “Did you go anywhere nice?”

  She realized with a start that they were standing in front of her house and the sky had darkened. How long had they been here?

  His shadow leaned closer to her, as if hoping to hear her answer.

  She stepped away from it. “Not really. No.”

  “Pity.” He nodded toward her front door and then tipped his head back to peer at a particular fluffy cloud hovering above them. After a long, odd moment of him just standing there, he smiled and then backed toward one of the bushes that lined her front porch.

  Before she could ask, the leaves and small branches seemingly reached out, welcoming him in with a light rustle. His body was swallowed up, and the shrub stilled.

  Arden waited, not quite sure what for, and when nothing immediately happened, frowned. She moved an inch closer, about to reach her hand in, when a large white cat burst out from the bottom. Arden shot back with a yelp and watched as the creature darted over her yard and across the street.

  The ability to change form was common, but most of them could only do subtle alterations, like making red eyes appear normal, or sharp fangs seem like regular teeth. If Brix could turn himself into a cat he must be a very powerful Unseelie, a type she—as far as she knew anyway—hadn’t come across before.

  He’d been friendly, but
looks could be deceiving. Deciding to shelve the thought for later, she deposited her bike and entered the house from the backdoor. She didn’t have much time before Mavek showed up, and she wanted to shower and settle down with a boring old classic novel that didn’t involve faeries or magic or shape-shifting redheads.

  She was in the basement when he arrived. Arden was practicing with a set of silver knives, tossing the thin metal across the room at the target. She rarely, if ever, missed the ring she was aiming for.

  Throwing knives had been the first line of defense she’d taken to. The rest—the swordplay and the hand-to-hand combat—had been harder for her to master. Something about lining the blade up and letting go soothed her. Despite the fact that she’d learned it to defend herself against the Unseelie, the practice of tossing knives in the security of her basement enabled her to forget about everything. For a little while, anyway.

  Mavek rested both hands on her shoulders, stilling her, and then moved close enough to drop his chin to the top of her head.

  “Are you still upset with me?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She palmed another knife and let it fly, trying to ignore the rumble of his throat against the back of her head, the feel of his hands still on her.

  He pulled back, but before she could feel disappointed, something heavy dropped between her breasts. He’d placed a necklace around her neck and was clasping the hook. When he was done, he gently pulled her hair free and smoothed the long strands out around her.

  “How about now?”

  She lifted the crystal pendant shaped like a heart, about the size of a half dollar. A small blood red rose was preserved in its center. It was perfect, the petals in full bloom, and she wondered if it’d come from his greenhouse. Aside from the cupcakes, Mavek had never given her a gift before.

  “You can’t buy me, Mavek,” she told him, but didn’t remove the necklace. She smoothed her thumb over the slick surface, watching as the light sent the crystal edges gleaming.

  “I would never even think to try,” he chuckled. He touched her elbow and brought her around to face him. His expression was serious, and regret filled his hazel eyes. “I am sorry, Arden. I couldn’t warn you about what was going to happen, not with Titania and the Erlking right there watching.”