Revelry Page 9

“Seriously?” She heaved a sigh of annoyance and ran a hand through her hair. “This is why I hate talking to the fae. What’s there to be cautious of if nothing is going on?”

  In a poorly planned stall tactic, Cato reached for her paper cup, gulping down a sip of her coffee. He made a face of disgust, dropping it back to the table with a heavy snap, splashing some over the sides of the cup. “It’s so bitter.”

  She lifted a brow. “Are you kidding? There are five sugars and a ton of caramel syrup in that thing.” She wouldn’t be surprised if she developed a cavity from it.

  “How do you drink this stuff?” He stared at the discarded cup like it contained poison.

  “Cato.” While his reaction was real, she knew what he was doing. “I won’t be distracted that easily. Sorry not sorry.”

  He slumped a bit in his chair, resting his elbows on the table. “As far as we know, the tithe was accepted,” he finally clarified. “No Unseelie have been dragged back to the Underground, and we haven’t received any word from the courts, so we should be fine.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “I’m not sure there is one,” he confessed, inching to the edge of his chair so he could lean closer to her, “but have you noticed how many Unseelie there are around here lately?”

  “Didn’t they come for the crowning?”

  He made a face at her. “I know that you noticed their presence here long before Brix was selected, Arden.”

  That she had.

  “I assumed they were gathering around because of the Tithe, that’s all. It’s the first time one of your kind was sacrificed, right? Makes sense that would draw a crowd.” She tilted her head. “Isn’t that also why Mavek has you tailing me so closely? Just in case one of these sightseers gets overly eager and approaches me? Or worse, one of the Erlking’s pissed-off followers.” They claimed he wasn’t well liked, but everybody had somebody.

  “I thought the same, but the other day I swear I saw…” his voice trailed off, lips pursed as he gazed at an empty space over her left shoulder. After a moment, he cleared his throat. “It doesn’t matter. I had to have been mistaken. My point is that there are a lot of Unseelie in town. You need to be careful. So whatever it was that you were going to ask me about Mavek—”

  “Do you know his true name?” she blurted, not wanting to give herself the chance to rethink it again. He’d been the one to bring the subject back around, so really, it was his own fault.

  For a long moment, all Cato did was blink rapidly at her from across the table. She was about to ask him if he was alright, if maybe he’d short-circuited or something, when he finally snapped out of it enough to say, “Hell no.”

  “Didn’t think so.” She deflated, trying to hide her disappointment. Even though she’d known it was a long shot, she’d still hoped there was a chance it would work.

  “That’s not what I mean,” he said, and then quickly clarified, “Of course I don’t know his true name. No one knows that. You shouldn’t know that––that’s what I mean.”

  “Stop saying ‘I mean’,” she stopped him. “You sound like a fifteen-year-old giving their first class presentation.”

  “Arden,” the gravity in his tone was impossible to miss, as was the thinly veiled panic in his eyes, “listen to me. You better than most know how dangerous a true name can be, and the lengths someone will go in order to keep it concealed. If word gets out that you were asking about this…”

  She frowned. “Are you worried Mavek will punish you? You don’t even know it.”

  “The fact that you thought it was safe to ask me, that you consider us close enough to ask me, will anger him to the point that it won’t matter. What if he believes I’ll try and find out for you? I’ve already lost some of his trust.”

  “Why?” It couldn’t have been from helping her out during the Tithe. He hadn’t done anything for her that Mavek hadn’t personally approved of—other than letting her go to the lake. “Because of Victor?”

  “No,” he said, “Victor was self-defense; I’ve told everyone as much. That’s why you haven’t faced any consequences, and why Twila is so upset about it.”

  And here Arden had thought she’d gotten away with it for the same reason she’d gotten away with the Erlking. The fae were allowed to seek retribution against humans who harmed them, but they could only go after one another if given express permission by their regents. At least, when one higher in station than them was the wrongdoer. Somehow, Arden had jumped the social hierarchy because of her relationship with the Midnight King.

  “He’s sour toward me for other reasons,” Cato continued.

  “What reasons?”

  “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you listen to me. Let. This. Go. Now. We’ll pretend it never even happened.”

  She wanted to, because she did understand where he was coming from, but…“This is the only solution we’ve come up with so far. It might be my only chance.”

  “To what?” he asked. “Turn back? Arden, there is no way back. There’s only forward. Stop forcing yourself to stay in the same place. You aren’t stuck.”

  “Aren’t I though?” she snapped. “I could have broken Twila’s wrist just now, did you know that? I did. Last week, Brix visited me and I lost my temper and blew stuff around the room like some damn leaf blower. This cannot be my future.”

  He caught her gaze, held it. “Why not?”

  “It just can’t!”

  “That doesn’t seem like a good enough reason. I think you know that too. Maybe that’s why you’re fighting so hard instead of adapting.”

  She pulled back slightly, frown returning tenfold.

  “You’re so good at that, Arden,” he said. “When we first met, you thought all fae were monsters, remember? But I helped you and we became instant friends because you were able to adjust your perception of the world. You thought Eskel had lied to you, yet were willing to hear him out, and when you discovered the truth, you forgave him for withholding it. The Midnight King came to you and claimed that he could rid you of your family curse if only you became a Heartless. You turned yourself into someone else overnight.”

  “This isn’t—”

  “This is no different,” he disagreed, and then got to his feet. “Forget about finding his true name and accept what you’re becoming. Sometimes, the more difficult path is actually the safest.”

  Arden wasn’t done talking about this, not by a long shot, but Cato stepped back, obviously unwilling to continue the conversation. Before she could coax him to stay, he tipped his head toward the front door, just before the little bell above it jingled.

  “Your friends are here,” he said, and then turned, nodding in silent greeting at Cole and Tabby as he passed them. Eskel brought up the rear and held the door open for Cato.

  The Unseelie said something, but Arden couldn’t make out what, and when Eskel turned around she saw the confused look on his face.

  Cole dragged a chair over from another table, allowing Tabby to take the one across Arden. Eskel had to find one as well, tucking himself between Cole and Arden. The four scrunched around the tiny bistro set so that his side pressed against hers, but if he noticed, he didn’t show it.

  “Drinks?” Tabby asked, glancing around at them.

  “I can help,” Eskel offered, but she declined, taking their orders and going off to the counter to retrieve them for everyone.

  “What was the Puck doing here?” Cole asked, reaching over to flick through the pages of her notebook curiously.

  “Cato?” Arden hadn’t heard Cole refer to him by type before. “The usual. Mavek sent him to spy on me. That’s all.”

  “He looked upset,” Eskel said, catching her eye. The silent question was easy enough for her to read.

  “He doesn’t know it,” she told him, trying not to be affected by the way his shoulders slumped in disappointment. “It’s fine. We’ll find another way.”

  “Another way to do what?” Cole had moved on to her textbook
now, and paused to stroke his fingers over the glossy photo of a cluster of violets.

  “I didn’t catch the whole conversation, and even I know what they’re talking about.” Tabby appeared with a paper tray, depositing coffee cups all around before reseating herself. She pulled a small paper bag from her pocket and took out a sugar cookie, handing it over to Cole.

  He stared at the icing on it, a cheery, painted Santa Claus.

  “What?” She waved the cookie in his face pointedly. “Too childish for you? I’m sorry they didn’t decorate them with something else, but it’ll taste the same.”

  “You’ve been eating everything you can get your hands on, and these are your favorite,” Eskel said. “What’s up with you today?”

  “Leave him alone,” Arden cut in, watching as Cole finally took the cookie only to turn it in his hand in inspection. “After what Titania made him do, can you blame him?” Thinking about it made her almost gag, and she hadn’t been the one gorging.

  Cole turned to look at her, gaze sharp, and then smiled. “Exactly. That’s it.”

  Tabby shuddered and placed the cookie she’d just taken a bite out of onto her napkin. She chased the mouthful down with a long swig of her coffee. “Gross. Let’s never talk about that again. Ever.”

  “Yeah,” Eskel agreed, making a face of his own.

  “You two are the idiots who got yourselves into that mess,” Arden reminded them, shrugging when Tabby gasped in mock affront.

  “Harsh,” she said. “We were just trying to look out for you,” she bumped Cole with her elbow, “weren’t we?”

  “Yes.” He picked up his own cup, sipped lightly at it, and immediately gagged. “What is that? It’s so bitter.”

  “Weird,” Arden was sure that Tabby would have ordered him the same drink he’d been getting all season, “that’s the same thing Cato said.”

  “The Puck was right. How do you drink this stuff?” He smacked his lips together.

  Tabby frowned and took a sip of his coffee. “It tastes the same as it always does. It’s not burned or anything.”

  Eskel held his hand out and she passed it over to him. “It really does. There’s nothing wrong with it.”

  “So much for leaving him alone,” Arden joked. Who among them hadn’t acted a little strangely after a faerie encounter? It’d only been a few days; eating rotten fruit probably messed with taste buds.

  Truthfully, she was a bit glad for the reprieve from the serious. After her conversation with Cato, she needed something light. Being with her friends, hanging out after school at a coffee shop… What was more normal than that? She might be changing, but even if she did, she could still keep this, couldn’t she?

  Keep him, Arden, but have me too.

  “Asshole,” she muttered when the words percolated through her mind again.

  “What?” Eskel turned to her, cutting off his conversation with Cole.

  “Nothing,” she lied. No way she was going to tell him about that particular talk with Mavek. She wasn’t going to tell anyone, mostly because she wanted to pretend like it’d never happened. Besides, it wasn’t like she was actually considering it. She wasn’t, and would never. It was just so infuriating that he’d suggested it at all. As if that would appease her and all would be forgiven.

  As if she needed his permission to be with someone else.

  “What is all this for?” Cole asked as he thumbed through her textbook after moving his coffee cup all the way across the table so it was pressed against the wall.

  “Exams.” Arden groaned. “I haven’t been able to concentrate lately. I’m not going to do very well.”

  “Your grades can take the hit,” Tabby waved off her concerns then shrugged when Arden glared. “What? They can.”

  “What are you guys doing here, anyway?” She hadn’t told them where she was studying.

  “We were at the library,” Eskel told her. “Couldn’t find anything today either.”

  “So we decided to come here to reenergize.” She shook her nearly empty cup. “We ran into Cole on the way.” The accusatory look she shot her cousin went unnoticed by him. He must have still felt too sick to go to the library.

  “You guys are doing me a favor,” Arden reminded them. “It’s fine if he didn’t feel up to it today.”

  “You’re being way too nice.”

  She snorted. “It’s not like you guys are indebted to me or anything. This is my problem.”

  Tabby blinked at her, then turned to Eskel. “She’s joking, right?”

  “Has to be,” he agreed, shaking his head at Arden.

  “Good.” Tabby propped her chin on her palm. “Because I don’t want to rehash that whole conversation about responsibility and the true meaning of friendship being never to abandon one in need, yada, yada.” She perked up and snapped the fingers of her free hand. “I know, let’s go see a movie!”

  The last time Arden had been to the movies was with Eskel. Cato had shown up just before the film had begun, but the start of it had been only the two of them. They’d been just friends at the time, but looking back on it now, she could understand Cato’s concern upon seeing them. Arden had spent so much time focused on concealing her feelings for Mavek, she’d inadvertently tricked herself into believing she didn’t have any for Eskel, even when it’d been apparent to others.

  She glanced at him now, trying not to be too obvious. He was busy discussing what was playing with Tabby. It gave her the chance to study his profile. He was the opposite of Mavek in almost every way, light to the Unseelie’s dark. It wasn’t just his physical appearance either; he was also more optimistic. Only a true optimist would travel across the country believing he’d get to meet his dead brother again.

  Brix wanted her to convince Eskel to leave––to go back to California––and part of her wanted that too because it was the only way to ensure that he’d be safe. But the rest of her was happy with him here, didn’t want to think about how she’d feel if he really did go.

  He’d told her he wouldn’t mind having a faerie for a girlfriend but had he meant it? And for how long? How long would he be able to last before finally realizing their relationship wasn’t worth his while? Being Unseelie meant being something other than human. Arden’s entire world was changing. How could he know without a shadow of a doubt that he wanted to live in it when she didn’t even know herself?

  “What do you think?” Eskel asked, turning to her. When he realized she’d spaced out again, he frowned.

  She’d been doing that a lot with them, she was aware. Still, it couldn’t be helped. She had so much on her mind, and the only times she felt comfortable enough to allow her thoughts to wander was when she was with them.

  “Let’s go,” she said, easily picking up on what he meant, despite having not paid any attention to the movie they’d decided on. It didn’t really matter anyway. “A day of normal could be good.”

  “Hell yeah!” Tabby stood and leaned over, holding out her hand for a high five.

  Arden rolled her eyes but reciprocated while Eskel started collecting her things. He had everything packed away in her backpack, the strap tossed over his shoulder, and was ready to go before she’d even gotten to her feet.

  He caught her eye and smiled.

  A day of normal was exactly what she needed.

  “Come out,” Arden paused on the side of the street, hands tightening around the backpack straps secured over her shoulders.

  The sun was high in the sky, beating down on her and her wind-burned cheeks. Her first class was at noon, and she’d left her house a bit early in order to navigate the icy roads on foot. She hadn’t gone a full block before she realized someone was following her. At first, she’d figured it was just Cato or one of the other spies Mavek had sent, but a nagging feeling in the back of her mind told her otherwise.

  She reached the edge of campus and saw other students heading toward the main buildings, some huddled together in small groups, others hunched over, tramping alone through the
chilly mid-morning breeze.

  Before, her stalker had been moving silently, but since she’d caught him out, he took no pains to hide the sound of his boots crunching the thin layer of frost on the ground. A second later, Brix appeared at her side, giving up the ruse of hiding, still in the same body he’d used at the crowning ceremony.

  She frowned at him. “Oh, it’s you.”

  “It’s me,” he agreed solemnly, surveying the other students. His hands were tucked into the deep pockets of his tan coat, its rear flaps slapping against the backs of his thighs with each gust of wind.

  “Is that cashmere?” she asked when it became apparent he wasn’t going to speak first.

  After a long pause, he finally dragged his eyes back to her. “I suppose.”

  Arden cocked her head to the side, waiting, but was met with more silence. “Okay… Well, this has been fun.” She lifted her foot to go, dropping it back down when his right hand shot out, fingers pinching the material of her own jacket at her elbow.

  He seemed to be just as caught off guard by the move as she was, brow furrowing and staring down at where he continued to hold onto her. “Perhaps I am lonelier than I anticipated.” The words were murmured under his breath, a thought unintentionally spoken aloud. He didn’t elaborate, but he also didn’t let go.

  “Brix?” The Lutin had always been strange, but this was another level, even for him.

  He blinked up at her, and she watched as his eyes refocused on hers. “Can I tell you a secret, Arden Archer?”

  She quirked a brow. “Did you follow me all the way here just to do that?”

  He thought it over, seemed to conclude in the affirmative, and made a humming sound in the back of his throat.

  She still had plenty of time to get to class, but that didn’t mean she wanted to stand out in the cold until then. She glanced around, taking stock of all the nearby buildings, and settled on the tiny school café.

  “Let’s go there.” She pointed to it and then took a step in that direction, tugging on her arm lightly when he still didn’t release her. “Come on. Tell me inside, where it’s warm.”

  “Ah,” he said, as if the weather hadn’t occurred to him, “you’re still human. I forget.”