“What?” She glanced between him and the patch of darkness between the trees. “No way. I’m not leaving you.”
“I really don’t think you have a choice,” he urged. “It’s fine. Go. Come back for me later.”
“Eskel—” Another branch snapped, this one closer and louder than the last, and she felt a rush of electricity zigzag up her spine. Whatever was out there, it was getting closer. “It’s stalking.”
“Arden, go.”
She glared at him over her shoulder and twisted the heart shaped necklace around a finger. Her mind whirled around all of the different possibilities, not just over what could be out there, but also how she could stop it from harming either herself or Eskel. If the fae had cell phones, she would have called Mavek and risked outing her relationship with Eskel, just to keep them safe.
Friendship, she corrected inwardly, scowling.
“Arden,” Eskel pleaded, a hint of exasperation coloring his unease.
“They won’t hurt me,” she soothed, though her tone betrayed her uncertainty. After the things she’d seen them do to each other, how could she ever really believe the Unseelie wouldn’t harm her?
The crashing continued, drawing ever closer, and Arden was forced to admit that she didn’t have a feasible plan. She moved toward Eskel and glanced down at the ring of mushrooms. There wasn’t much room inside; she could risk joining him and getting them both trapped or…
“I’ll lead it away,” she decided, ignoring his sounds of protest. She spun back toward the woods and ran, making as much ruckus as possible in the process. Once at the tree line, she reached up and snapped off branches, banging them against the trunks. The ensuing sounds of approach seemed to angle in her direction, and she took off.
Arden ran so fast that everything around her became a blur of color and texture. Her hands swiped at prickly leaves to brush them out of her way, though a few low hanging branches wacked her in the face before she could stop them. She didn’t care, too focused on leading them as far away from Eskel as possible. Hopefully, whatever was coming had taken the bait and trailed her, leaving him alone.
The drop off came so suddenly that she didn’t have time to slow, and she tumbled down the hill, slamming her shoulder hard against a bolder. Letting out a cry, she gripped her injured arm, all the while still rolling downward with no way of halting her descent.
She didn’t see the pond below, and was immediately assaulted by icy water. It swept into her ears and nose, flooding down her throat so that she gagged even as she sank beneath the murky gloom. Gyrating her arms, she managed to right herself long enough to launch upward, sucking in a deep breath the instant she broke the surface.
Coughing violently, Arden tried to clear her lungs of all the pond water. Through her blurry vision, she thought she saw the outline of a deer standing at the top of the hill she’d fallen from. After she’d wiped away more of the water she looked again, frowning when there was nothing there.
The creature had been huge, a massive buck larger than any she’d seen before. Putting that oddity aside, she kicked, cursing the weight of her leather boots now that they were underwater, and aimed toward shore.
She’d only gone three measly feet when a strong grip latched onto her left ankle. She gasped, inhaling sharply one last time before she was dragged back below. The dirty water stung her eyes but she struggled to keep them open, searching for signs of her attacker.
A flash just beneath her feet, two golden orbs reflecting—faerie eyes. What appeared to be seaweed one moment and then hair the next twisted itself around her boots, and through the murk she saw what held her.
It wasn’t a hand at all, but a mouth. She stared down at the face of a kelpie, feeling panic bubble up within her chest, threatening to cause her to scream and therefore drown. She’d never actually seen one before, having avoided the local lakes and ponds all her life.
The creature’s head was shaped similarly to a horse’s, though with decaying flesh that showcased pitch-black eyes and teeth set in rotting gums. Fortunately, the teeth weren’t sharp like most of the Unseelie. Unfortunately, that had nothing to do with his grip, which was as strong as iron. When she tried to shake free, its jaws only tightened and continued to pull her down.
Arden’s head was beginning to grow fuzzy, and her lungs were burning like she’d just downed liquid metal. If she didn’t get free soon she was doing to die down here.
The kelpie snickered as if he’d read her mind, and through the water, silt, and pond scum blurring her vision, Arden thought he might have even smiled.
She was going to pass out any second. Lifting her other leg, Arden reached into her boot, praying that she hadn’t lost her dagger in the fall or initial plunge. She almost let out a cry of relief when the tips of her fingers touched the hilt. In her current position, it was hard to fully wield the weapon, and she spent a few more precious seconds trying to wrap her fingers completely around its hilt.
She tugged it out, hoping she could muster enough force to drive it through the water and into her attacker. Jabbing it forward, she clenched her teeth when the sharp tip of the blade missed the kelpie by a full four inches. She tried again, fighting past her body’s waning ability to stay conscious.
This time, the knife point hit its target, puncturing the kelpie’s right eye with an unsettling pop. Before Arden could be too disgusted by it, the Unseelie was releasing her and she instinctually flailed toward the surface.
She gasped as she broke through, paddling toward land as fast as she could. Despite the soaked hair that draped her face and covered her nose and mouth, Arden made it safely to shore, propelled by the adrenaline that thrummed through her body. When her hand slapped against mud and she felt it squish between her fingers, relief coursed through her. Wheezing, she pulled herself the rest of the way out and crawled five feet from the water’s edge.
She was not alone. Her bloodshot eyes rested on a set of brown boots, and her gaze trailed up well-muscled calves, thighs, abs, and chest until she was staring into the mismatched eyes of the Erlking.
“Oh, child,” the Erlking grinned, twisting his expression into something fierce and primal, “you’ve fallen where you don’t belong.”
If she wasn’t so terrified, she’d get up. But fear kept her sprawled at his feet, the muck clinging to her drenched clothes and skin. The vague recollection she had of him from the autumn celebration flitted through her mind, still too foggy for her to fully grasp. Mavek had told her, however, that the Erlking had handed her off to one of his fae.
And after finding out about Eskel’s brother… The Erlking was dangerous, more so than she would have guessed. The fact that she was a Heartless wouldn’t matter to him. Part of her wanted to ask if he’d sent the kelpie after her, and if he’d been the one stalking her and Eskel in the woods right before her fall.
The other part of her didn’t think the answers were worth her life.
“You are acquainted with my Heartless.” He lowered himself into a crouch before her, angling his head as if she was a rare creature that he’d discovered. “I wonder, will this pose a problem for you, Arden Archer?”
She took a moment to lick her lips, hoping when she spoke that her voice wouldn’t shake. “No.” One syllable was all she could control at this point.
“That’s good to hear.” He twisted his head the other way, at an angle impossible for a human. His multi-colored eyes glimmered with a mischief she’d seen reflected a thousand times in Mavek’s eyes.
Comparing the two of them made her stomach clench painfully. No part of her wanted to admit that Mavek could have anything in common with the monster before her. Even after learning of Eskel’s brother and discovering the secrets that were kept from her, she didn’t want to believe that Mavek was dark like the rest of the Unseelie.
“The stronger the tithe, the better the rewards,” the Erlking stated. “Souls are funny little things,” he lifted a hand as if to touch her, trailing his fingers in the air close to h
er face without making contact, “fascinating things. We do not possess them and therefore we are always in need of strong ones. They’re harder to come by than you might think.”
“I try not to think about souls at all,” she murmured, wanting their conversation to end. She needed to get back to Eskel, to make sure that he was okay and find a way to get him out of the faerie ring.
“Hmm,” he agreed, “I suppose that makes sense, you being what you are and all… so willing to give yours up.”
It took everything in her not to move when he finally pulled back and stood.
“Stay out of the night market, little Heartless.” The corner of his burgundy colored mouth turned up mockingly. “You might encounter things that you’d rather not.” His gaze lifted toward the pond over her shoulder, lingering there pointedly before he turned and slowly walked back into the thick forest.
The Erlking disappeared from sight, and Arden collapsed onto her back in the mud.
“I haven’t been that afraid of an Unseelie since I was a kid.” Arden wrapped a towel around the ends of her brown and green hair as she walked into the living room where she’d left Eskel. She’d taken a scalding hot shower, desperate to remove the grime—and truthfully the whole ordeal—from herself.
After the Erlking had gone she’d managed to stumble her way back to Eskel. He’d just been stepping from the circle as she broke through the trees: the spell holding him had ended. They were now certain that it was the Erlking’s doing.
“Why do you think he threatened us?” Eskel asked, turning from the bay window to watch her. He was standing, hands in his pockets, looking worse than he had this morning. His brother’s ring caught on the edge of his jean pocket, a persistent reminder.
“Could be he saw us the other night at the night market,” she suggested, glad that she sounded confident and not freaked out. “He did warn me against returning.”
“Can he do that?” Eskel leaned back against the wall, watching her silently while she folded and draped the damp towel over her arm. When she didn’t immediately speak, he added, “With you being Mavek’s Heartless and all, I mean.”
“Mavek doesn’t run the market,” she said.
“What does he run?”
She moved into the kitchen and he followed. She filled the tea kettle with water and flicked on the stove. After, she rummaged through her cupboard and selected three different types of tea bags, found the sugar bowl, and took her time selecting a couple of mugs. Regrettably, Arden could think of nothing else to do while the water boiled, so she broke her silence. “As the Midnight Prince, Mavek is in charge of hosting all of the celebrations pertaining to dates of power.”
“Like the equinox?” Eskel asked, followed by a questioning look when she shuddered.
She didn’t bother telling him about what had happened recently at Rose Manor—Eskel hated the Unseelie enough already—opting instead to continue with her explanation about the royals. “Titania is in charge of the Great Hunt, and the Erlking resides over the night market. Because they all have their own roles, I don’t think Mavek could order the Erlking to let me into the market, even if he wanted to. Which I highly doubt he will.”
“Because it’s dangerous?” It was clear from his tone that he wasn’t buying her rationalization.
“You don’t believe he wants me safe?”
“Sure,” he corrected, then, “I just don’t believe he cares about you.”
A rush of anger and embarrassment flooded her and she turned in time to twist the knob off as the kettle began to whistle. Arden knew she hadn’t been quick enough to hide her reaction from him, but still she kept her back to him as long as possible. It sucked, knowing that the whole world had caught onto her asinine crush. It sucked even more knowing that those who’d guessed also looked at her with sympathy.
“It can’t work, Arden,” Eskel implored. “I don’t even know why you’d want it to.”
“That’s right,” she retorted. “You don’t. You don’t understand and you never will, so stop trying to make me believe the things that you do.”
“Even if they might save your life?”
“I am not your brother!” She slammed one of the mugs she’d just collected from the cupboard down onto the counter. The resounding crack bit sharply at their ears, silencing them both for a short moment.
“We’ve been through this,” Eskel told her. “Honestly, I’m too exhausted and freaked out to go over it again right now. Can we call a truce?”
Arden let out a sigh and a half laugh as she shook two of the boxes of tea at him. When he pointed to the Earl Gray, she quickly tore open a bag.
Once the tea was made, she carried the cups to the dining room and set his down at the spot next to her seat at the head of the table.
She watched him sip at his tea over the rim of her mug. Behind him, a window revealed clouds covering the sun, casting the room in a gloomy light. Then rain began pattering against the windowpane, steady at first before picking up.
“I’m worried about you,” Eskel confessed, voice so low she almost couldn’t hear him over the pounding rain. He didn’t meet her gaze, instead wringing his hands on the table as he watched the smoky tendrils waft up from the tan liquid.
“You should worry about yourself.” Arden curled her legs up onto the edge of the seat, tucking them up against her chest. “What you did with the faerie ring is dangerous. Do you know what could have happened if you’d run around it a tenth time?”
“I did my research,” Eskel nodded. “I knew only to risk nine.”
If he’d circled it one more time, or had accidentally run around the ring counterclockwise instead, he could have lost his sight altogether. Or his hearing. Or his life. It really depended on what type of Unseelie was around. What type was close enough to hear the call of the ring and come checking on the foolish mortal who’d become its prey.
“Do you miss her?” he asked then, cutting into her thoughts. “Your sister?”
“Of course.” She tried speaking with Ainsley at least once a month, but she rarely got much out of her. Ainsley was angry for having been sent away; she felt abandoned. The one thing that kept Arden going that was the hope that after All Saints’ Eve, she’d be able to bring her sister home.
Or—and this was more likely and just as acceptable—she could go live with Ainsley and her aunt. There were too many Unseelie in this town, and if she could no longer see them, as Cole pointed out, how could Arden protect herself or her sister? She’d always assumed that Mavek would protect them, but now…
She hated that she was letting others color her mind, making her doubt Mavek. For over a year he’d been her rock, the one solid thing getting her through the loss of her mother and the discovery that their family curse went deeper than merely the sight.
“What would you do to see her again?” The red clock hanging on the wall at his back chimed the hour loudly, but he didn’t flinch. Instead, he kept his eyes locked with hers. Waiting.
“I’m already doing it.” She had an inkling of where this was going.
“So, you’re willing to risk your soul in order to be with your family again,” he intoned, “but you can’t understand why I’d be willing to do the same to get mine back?”
Despite the fact that he’d backed her into a corner, Arden felt her mouth curve into a smile. She already knew the trials he’d gone through for the sake of his brother. Really, she shouldn’t be surprised that he’d risked trying arcane rituals involving mushrooms.
“Touché.”
Eskel returned her half smile and leaned back in his chair. “Sorry. We called a truce and I lasted about ten minutes. Let’s talk about something else. I have to admit, our conversations were a lot less morbid when we didn’t bring up the Unseelie.”
“Except, you did,” she reminded. “And besides, they were also a lot less interesting.”
“Ouch.” He placed a hand over his heart and chuckled.
“Are you hungry?” She got up and walked
back into the kitchen, calling as she went. “I don’t really have much here—” most of the groceries she’d bought with Mavek had been used up—“but we could always get delivery.”
“Does Tollbooth’s deliver?” he asked, his voice coming from directly behind and not from the dining room where she’d expected him to still be.
Spinning around, Arden sucked in a breath when she almost whacked right into him. The two of them stumbled a little—her trying to regain balance as she moved back, him shooting forward in an awkward attempt to keep her from falling.
She ended up with her back pressed against the edge of the counter, and he with his front pressed against her.
He caught himself with his hands on both sides of her hips, seeming just as surprised with their position as she was. His face was close enough that she caught a lingering whiff of Earl Gray on his breath, but the rest of his scent washed over her as well, a combination of honeysuckle and briny sea air. A mixture of salty and sweet that she found appealing.
Eskel cleared his throat and something over her shoulder caught his eye. He gave an uncomfortable chuckle, clearly a poor attempt to defuse the tension, and motioned with his chin to the counter at her back.
“Looks like you have dessert, at least.” Arden didn’t have to turn to know that he was indicating the set of red velvet cupcakes.
The reminder of them, and where they’d come from, doused her like a bucket of ice water. She pressed against the side of his arm until he got the hint and stepped out of her way. Even if she’d been under the influence of faerie wine, that kiss between her and Mavek the other week had been real. At least, for her it had been. If she believed what Mavek had said about her waiting—and she wasn’t yet sure if she did—then she might be close to getting another kiss from him as well. Close to getting what she’d wanted from him since becoming his Heartless.
And even if that wasn’t the case, and it was just another faerie trick, a lie Mavek was giving her instead of the promise he insisted it was, she couldn’t fall for Eskel anyway.
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