Grave Memory: An Alex Craft Novel

by Kalayna Price

  I started to protest, to stop her, or at least ask what was wrong. But when she turned to face me, the smile she wore was real, radiant. She grabbed my hands and beamed at me.

  “Oh, Al, don’t look like that. Today, tonight, Faerie is transformed and dedicated to making merry. Until dawn tomorrow many taboos are lifted and bonds broken.” She tugged at the fingers of my right glove, pulling it up, almost off.

  I jerked back, trying to stop her, but only ended up with a bare hand, my glove in Rianna’s grip. Her smile widened and I stared in wonder at my pale, unbloodied palm. I opened my mouth. Closed it again. Pulled off my other glove. That hand was clean too.

  “Make merry, Al,” she said. Then, catching me off guard, she lifted onto her toes and kissed my cheek.

  I gaped as she turned, and without another word, she wove through the throng of fae around us. My gaze moved past her, to where her beeline was headed, and her actions made more sense. Weaving toward her was Desmond, not in his familiar dog form, but in that of a man.

  His smile matched hers as they met in the middle and he lifted her in his arms, kissing her. I looked away as that very deep kiss reached the point I was sure one of them would pass out if they didn’t break for air. While their public display of desire might have made me uncomfortable, it didn’t phase the revelers around them. In fact, I noticed more than a couple of fae pairing off.

  “Please tell me a Faerie party isn’t code for an orgy,” I muttered, turning.

  And found that I was alone.

  Okay, I wasn’t actually alone as I was in the middle of a crowd of fae who, now that all the courts had entered, were talking animatedly or passing around drinks in cups made of trumpet flowers. But Caleb and Holly were gone. I looked around, searching, which was harder to do than normal. Unlike in the mortal realm, I wasn’t exactly tall in this crowd as it boasted plenty of Sleagh Maith, not to mention giants, trolls, and other larger-than-human fae. I turned back to see where Rianna and Desmond had gone, but the crowd had swallowed them, blocking them from sight.

  Great. Abandoned. Now what was I supposed to do?

  “What I wouldn’t give for a Dummies Guide to Faerie.” I’d said the thought out loud, which earned me odd looks from the revelers around me. I gave a fae with too few eyes and too many heads a tight-lipped smile. Only one head smiled back. Another fae, with legs like a goat but a very female—and completely naked—torso held out a buttercup filled with golden liquid. I waved a hand in refusal and slipped past her. Weaving my way through the crowd, I tried to look like I knew where I was going, but I was wandering aimlessly, hoping to run into someone I knew.

  I should have been more specific in my hopes.

  “Lexi,” a chimelike female voice said from behind me.

  Crap. I turned, finding myself face-to-face with the delicate and perfect features of the Winter Queen.

  “I have to go,” I said, pointing in the direction I’d been headed before she’d stopped me. I didn’t know where it would take me, but almost anywhere was better than here, with her. “Some other time, maybe.”

  “Are you looking for someone? Should I guess who?” She tilted her head slightly, giving me a coy smile. “Could he be among my entourage?” She took a step back and swept a hand, indicating the circle of Sleagh Maith behind her.

  I couldn’t have stopped my gaze from searching for Falin had I wanted to. But he wasn’t there. Without a word, I turned, intending to walk away.

  “Dear Lexi, don’t be that way,” the queen said. “Perhaps one of these gentlemen are who you’re looking for.”

  I didn’t want to turn. If she really was presenting Falin this time there would be a price. There was always a price and I didn’t want to face the temptation. I might fail. And yet, I found myself turning, looking to where her hand gestured.

  “Falin.” The whisper escaped me before I was aware I’d spoken.

  “Oh, poor Ryese,” the queen said, her voice dramatically pouty. But amusement danced under that act.

  I honestly hadn’t noticed that Ryese was standing next to Falin. Ryese wasn’t looking at me, his pretty features shut down, but I could see the muscle above his jaw bulging as if he gritted his teeth. Hard.

  “What’s the game?” I asked, turning away from the two men so I could face the queen.

  “Game?” She batted long-lashed eyes at me. She really was too pretty. “Who said anything about a game? This is a revelry. They happen only four times a year. It is a moment of peace and merriment in Faerie. Tell me it wouldn’t make you happy to spend it with a man you care about?”

  I opened my mouth, but if I said it wouldn’t thrill me, that would be a lie. She’d sidestepped my question though, which meant there was a catch. “The bonds you’d likely tie around me wouldn’t be worth the ‘moment’ of merriment.”

  “You’ll incur no debt or bonds from me, dear Lexi. I promise.”

  I cringed inwardly at both the endearment and the nickname, but I could feel the weight of that promise. It was genuine and she couldn’t break it. So what was I missing?

  “You’ve ordered Falin to have no contact with me,” I said, because I was still trying to find the loophole she planned to exploit.

  “I’ll lift it for the revelry.”

  “Why?”

  The skin around her eyes tightened, just slightly, but it betrayed her annoyance. “Must you ask so many questions? Perhaps I wish to engender goodwill from you. Perhaps I wish you to remember what you’d sacrifice if you decline my court. Perhaps I’m simply in a good mood as this is a joyful occasion—”

  I seriously doubted the last.

  “Now, pick your man before I change my mind,” she said, her voice turning sharp.

  It didn’t escape me that she had yet again avoided my question. Something more was going on here.

  I turned to the two fae. They were both Sleagh Maith, nobles of the winter court and currently both shimmering slightly without glamour to dampen their otherworldly qualities. And yet, the two men couldn’t have been more different. Oh, they were both handsome, but Ryese was softer, his features more delicate, and his body, while as toned as most Sleagh Maith, was that of the pampered elite. Falin, on the other hand, was rougher around the edges. His muscles were earned from hard work, his handsome face almost always guarded, his lips slower to smile, but when he did, it softened his features.

  He wasn’t smiling now, but watching me with a predatory look. Ryese on the other hand, looked away as soon as I turned to him. I’d expected to see the same dark anger I had the other night in the Bloom—he didn’t deal with rejection well—but in that split second, what I saw in those pale eyes was uncertainty. Which struck me as wrong. Very wrong.

  She wouldn’t have…?

  I opened my shields. I could tell from the way the woman beside me stilled that my eyes lit from the inside, but I didn’t care if she noticed. She was playing a game, and I intended to See through it.

  And I could.

  Faerie had its own layers of reality, but the land of the dead and the Aetheric weren’t among them, so while I could sense the realities around me, they weren’t visible. That meant absolutely nothing obscured the fact both men were bound in glamour—a strong one, too. But while the glamour was thick, it didn’t change the fact that with my shields open, the men switched places.

  So that’s her game. Now I knew why “Ryese” wouldn’t meet my eyes—the queen had likely ordered Falin not to reveal the trick.

  “I pick him,” I said, pointing at the real Falin.

  “Ryese?” the queen asked, those perfect eyebrows arching.

  I almost said yes, as that was who Falin currently looked like, but stopped myself. She could drop the glamour at any moment. If I said yes to Ryese, she may do just that, and I’d be stuck with the real Ryese. “No.”

  “Then you mean him.” She pointed to the fae glamoured to look like Falin.

  “No,” I said again and crossed the space to Falin. I opened my shields wider, until
I couldn’t see even a shadow of the glamoured shape hiding Falin’s form.

  Glamour is belief magic. I wasn’t one hundred percent sure how it worked from the fae side, but the basic principle was that if you believed what you saw, it became real—at least temporarily. If enough people disbelieved what they saw, reality would reject the glamour. Not all glamour was equal, and Faerie accepted it easier than mortal reality—so much so that the first time I met the Winter Queen she’d transformed my outfit into a ball gown, which still hung in my closet, complete with ice embellishments that never melted. But even Faerie wouldn’t accept that one man was another.

  Normally it took a lot of like-minded people to disbelieve glamour, but reality and I had an interesting relationship. With my shields open, I could see the men as they truly were. I just hoped reality agreed.

  “Him,” I said again, and reached out and touched Falin’s arm. As I did, I gave a push of power, willing reality to accept what I saw as true.

  The queen’s top lip quivered, as if she were fighting a scowl and close to losing the battle. Reality had clearly accepted my truth over hers.

  “Very clever, Lexi,” she said, the words clipped but even. The air tingled with her anger, but her face smoothed to controlled perfection. Then her lips curved into a cold smile. “Your prize then, I suppose. I promised you contact. I didn’t promise you conversation. Knight, come here.”

  Falin didn’t hesitate, striding to her without so much as a glance at me. She wrapped one pale hand around his neck, pulling him down so she could whisper in his ear. As she did so, she pressed her body against his. My jaw locked, a mix of anger and jealousy twisting in my guts. I turned away, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of seeing my reaction.

  I glanced back in time to see Falin’s eyes widen and then narrow, but whatever she told him, all he did was incline his head as she stepped back. She turned to me, that cruel smile still claiming her face.

  “What ever will you do with my Knight for a day and a night? He’s all yours, except his words, but you don’t really need those.” She tilted her head, but if she was aiming for innocence, she failed. “Be merry, dear Lexi.” Then she glanced at her nephew. “Ryese, let’s go.”

  While the Winter Queen might have control of her features, Ryese certainly didn’t. His expression wavered between confusion and anger. I doubted the confusion had anything to do with me breaking the queen’s glamour and a lot more with the very blatant thought of How the hell did I lose? When he stood there, staring, his expression darkening by the heartbeat, the queen called his name again. Ryese’s head snapped up, and I wiggled my fingers in a mock wave good-bye. Ryese scowled, but turned on his heel, following his aunt.

  “I have a bad feeling about this,” I said once they disappeared into the crowd.

  Falin didn’t answer, of course. He just laced his fingers into my hair and leaned down. His lips claimed mine, and he kissed me as if in that one kiss, he could make up for a month of lost opportunities. My body responded, warming under his attention, returning his kiss.

  Then my brain rebooted, screaming warnings at me. I flattened my palms against Falin’s chest and pushed hard enough to get my point across.

  He didn’t release me, didn’t let me step away from him, but he broke the kiss, giving me an inch or two as he stared at me like I could somehow save him. But I couldn’t save him. Hell, I couldn’t save myself. I’d won him from the Winter Queen, but for only a day and a night, and I had no idea what she’d told him. He’d spent the last month conducting raids on my home and being cold to the point of cruel because she’d commanded him to. I didn’t know her new game, but I wasn’t interested in playing.

  Falin started to lean forward again, but I pressed my hands against his chest, feeling his heart beating fast and hard under my palms.

  “Slow down, and let go of me.”

  He cocked his head to the side, but the look he gave me was more bemused than confused. I couldn’t blame him. After all, we’d done a lot more than kiss several months ago. But now was different. The Winter Queen’s plots aside, I needed distance now for the same reason I couldn’t kiss Death yesterday.

  Once I could have enjoyed the “right now.” Could have lost myself in the moment and had no regrets. Could have relished the fact that for a day and a night, Falin was mine.

  But Falin would walk away from me at dawn. That was inevitable. The only question was how many pieces of my broken heart he’d take with him. Between Falin’s month long chill and Death’s long absence, I didn’t have many pieces left.

  Chapter 27

  Falin lowered me to my feet as the music stopped.

  I was breathless, but smiling. I normally hated dancing. Not today. And not just because I had to figure out something to do with a man who couldn’t speak. As the fiddler and the bagpipers started in on another lively tune, the music seeped into my blood, my bones, and combined with the heady merriment filling the toadstool-ringed circle. Falin led as we danced with a mix of fae. There was no choreography, just carefree movement, as if the spirit of the dance spurred us on. I laughed, losing myself in the excitement.

  I wasn’t the only one. The queen may have commanded Falin not to speak, but he could laugh, his face aglow. I didn’t know if part of his compulsion was to stay by my side or if he simply wanted to be with me while he could—it wasn’t like I could ask him— but he’d refused to leave despite my initial insistence. Now I was glad he’d stayed.

  The setting sun coated the clearing in a golden-red glow, which added even more magic to the revelry. I finally understood why Rianna enjoyed Faerie. The day had been awkward, but fun. There were games, some familiar, some I hadn’t known the rules but played anyway, Falin laughing as he tried to teach me through charades, which became a game within a game. There was music, and dancing, and everywhere the fae played, giggled, romped, and reveled in the gaiety. When the Harvest Queen and King had said to make merry, the fae had listened.

  The song ended, and Falin led me out of the fray before the music started again. Walking arm and arm, I marveled at the beauty around me, at the way the last light of the day made the leaves look like they burned gold, red, and orange. At the fae, who even the most monstrous in appearance didn’t look dangerous, not now, not here. Heads turned to the sky as the last ray of light faded and night descended on the revelry.

  I waited for the night blindness to set in, but it didn’t.

  Hundreds of small lights in a dozen colors twinkled and then swirled and buzzed around the clearing like oversized fireflies. As a glowing blue figure passed in front of my nose, I realized they were pixies, the smallest I’d ever seen. Their light danced through the sky. But they weren’t the only ones casting their own glow. All the Sleagh Maith in the clearing glimmered softly, pale light lifting from their skin as if each were a ray of moonlight. The court of light’s members’ glow was warmer, almost golden.

  “It’s so beautiful,” I whispered.

  Falin’s hand tightened gently, as if in agreement, but he wasn’t looking out across the clearing. He was staring at me.

  I looked away. Once I’d realized I wasn’t going to shake him this morning, and that I didn’t really want to wander around the revelry alone, I’d told him we’d spend the time as friends—no more kissing and sure as hell nothing the Winter Queen had hinted at. He’d agreed with a disappointed nod. Despite that agreement, this day was the closest thing to a date I’d had in my adult life.

  And it was nice.

  Something constricted in my chest, warning me of the pain to come at dawn. I fought to suppress it—I still had a night left. Falin may have been having the same thoughts, because as the night progressed I caught traces of sorrow in his face when he thought I wasn’t looking.

  The Harvest moon rose, full, orange, and almost close enough to touch. Falin and I walked, going nowhere in particular. Now that night had fallen, more and more of the fae were pairing off, some disappearing into the outskirts of the forest, some n
ot bothering with that much discretion. I found myself blushing more than once as my eyes tripped over bodies tangled in intimate positions.

  Then I spotted a very familiar redhead lip-locked with a certain green-skinned fae. I stopped. “It’s never a good thing when your housemates hook up, is it?”

  Falin glanced to where Holly and Caleb were lost in their own little world and shrugged.

  “I guess I should have seen this coming.” Probably months ago. And they’d only gotten closer since Holly’s first trip to Faerie. “But they better not start walking around the house naked or doing it on the dining room table,” I muttered, making Falin laugh.

  We moved on.

  As we passed one of the large, endlessly overflowing banquet tables, Falin picked up a crystal flute and drained half of the amber liquid. Then he handed it to me.

  I didn’t think about it. Falin handed me the flute, and I was thirsty, so I drank. It wasn’t until I’d taken a large gulp of the drink, which tasted of honey with a bite of alcohol, that I realized what I’d done.

  I drank Faerie wine.

  Falin snatched the flute from my hand, tossing it to the ground. Then he dragged me away from the table and into the tree line. I stumbled after him, my fingers pressed to my lips.

  No. How could I be so stupid? Faerie wine?

  No, no, no.

  Once past the first few trees, Falin ground to a halt and flipped around. He grabbed my shoulders and backed me up against a tree. The bark scratched against my bare shoulders, but I hardly noticed. Something warm spread inside my chest. Something changing me. I could feel it.

  “Alex. Alex, look at me.”

  I didn’t. I was too focused on what I felt, or maybe imagined I felt, happening inside me. The fact he’d spoken didn’t even register. My focus narrowed to the fact I’d drunk Faerie wine. Every human knew never to consume anything in Faerie. And I drank Faerie wine.

  Falin kissed me, his hand cupping my face. I was too stunned to react.

  He pulled back. Then he pressed his palms against the tree on either side of my head and leaned his forehead against the rough bark, his cheek pressed against mine.