Tithe Read online

  She grabbed her house keys and locked up behind her, slipping onto her bike. The air had grown colder. Tugging on a pair of black knit gloves, she started the fifteen-minute ride across town. The sun was fading, and she pedaled faster to beat the dying rays. She would have to travel back in the dark of night of course, but avoiding it now seemed prudent.

  Cato’s sudden appearance had left Arden a bit unnerved. They’d been friends once, or at least, she’d thought they were. At the time, she’d believed him to be a regular boy, living somewhere in the neighborhood. Even when she’d discovered the truth in middle school, the two of them had somehow maintained a friendship, of sorts. After her acceptance of Mavek’s offer to become his Heartless, however, Cato’s demeanor toward her had changed. They went from sharing inside jokes to cool acquaintances, and that bothered her more than it should.

  It also explained why she was so wary of him when he did come around—he usually spent his time avoiding her.

  The porch lights were already lit by the time she reached the manor, and she sailed through the open gates. This time she didn’t bother entering the house, dropping her bike and traveling around the building’s massive frame to the backyard. A party identical to the one she’d attended at the beginning of the week was in full swing, except without the violin music.

  Instead, the Unseelie danced to a fast-paced drumbeat, their arms and legs and talons and claws twirling about in the flickering glow of the bonfires. At least half a dozen were lit, spread about, and each was surrounded by beautiful, ethereal creatures. Some took her breath away. Some terrified her.

  “The Heartless,” a scratchy voice whispered as she passed, and she didn’t bother searching for the speaker, pretending not to hear.

  “The pitter-patter of the organ in her chest speaks otherwise,” a new, deeper voice laughed.

  “But that’s not why they’re called that,” another chuckle, this one a bit mocking.

  Arden passed through the crowd, keeping her chin up, eyes straight. She just needed to find Mavek and then everything would be fine. No one would dare to speak about her that way in front of him.

  He wasn’t in the back by the larger bonfire, so she continued walking toward the greenhouse. Although it still functioned, more than half of the windows had been broken and plastic bandaged the holes in the roof. Within, green and red the color of blood could be seen—his rose bushes.

  She didn’t catch the voices inside in time, her hand already tugging on the icy metal handle. A blast of roses and dirt hit her, the smell so strong she stopped a moment beneath the threshold. Then she blinked and spotted them in the back, tucked into the corner.

  A woman had a hand curled over the top of Mavek’s left shoulder, the other stroking the delicate petals of a crimson flower that leaned toward her. She was tall and slim, with hair like spun silver. When she turned to glance at the doorway, her eyes were the color of oil, inky with a rainbow sheen. The dress gave her away, the thin silver and white silk like spun cobwebs—maybe it was, for all Arden knew—and a trail of tiny, pale flowers that cascaded down her arm, looping around like a long bracelet.

  Mavek was standing close, too close, with his body angled slightly toward her as if he’d been about to reach out and—

  “Is this she?” the woman spoke, her voice like harrowing flute music in the wind. “Your Heartless?”

  “Yes.” Mavek stepped forward, effectively pulling away from her in the process. He met Arden’s eyes but she couldn’t read his expression. “Arden, this is Titania.”

  A million different stories filtered through her head at once. They might not have met before, but Arden knew enough of the Faerie Queen to know she was on shaky ground. She dipped her head, not sure what else to do and tried to remain calm.

  “Pretty.” Titania moved toward her with an easy gait, reminiscent of the vicious predator associated with her name in folktales and poetry. “She’s lovely, Mavek.”

  She glanced at him over her shoulder. “You did always know how to pick them.”

  Her long fingers trailed over the heady blooms of roses as she walked, bare feet silent on the dirt floor. She stopped in front of Arden and lifted her hand to the curve of the girl’s cheek, resting the tips of her nails there. The pressure wasn’t strong enough to break skin, but Arden felt the sharpness of their pointy tips.

  “Do you know who I am, Heartless?” Titania asked, her voice lower, more steely.

  “The Faerie Queen of things Unseen.”

  “Unseelie,” she grinned, flashing a row of straight white teeth, and leaned her face closer, “don’t you mean?”

  The rhyme was unnerving, and it took all of Arden’s willpower to keep from pulling back. After a moment, Titania did it for her, and Arden let out a breath.

  “I want to see what you’ve done to the rest of the place, Mavek love.” Titania stepped out into the moonlight and the rays hit her just so, sending her hair glittering like real silver.

  “Return to the party, perhaps,” Mavek suggested, his tone deferential instead of the commanding air he assumed with anyone else. “I’ll meet you there. I need a word with the Heartless.”

  “Hmm,” her eyes skimmed over Arden one last time. “She does seem surprised to see me. Very well. Fill her in. Don’t keep me waiting too long though. I might grow bored without you.”

  The Faerie Queen left, leaving an awkward silence in her wake, with the space of the entire greenhouse creating a chasm between Arden and Mavek. She tried not to think about how close the queen had been standing to Mavek. The way Titania had spoken to him, caressed him like an old lover.

  “You’re early,” Mavek said.

  “I’m right on time,” she countered, and instantly regretted doing so. She bit her bottom lip and inwardly chastised herself. There was no way he could have missed the note of jealousy in her words. Jealousy she wasn’t allowed to feel, let alone express.

  “She’s here for All Saints’ Eve,” he explained.

  “It’s over a month away.”

  “You knew we gathered ahead of time. To prepare.”

  “Right.” That she had. “Are the others here then?” There were three Heartless in total. Three options for the Tithe. She’d have to beat the other two to win.

  “One is. The other will be arriving soon.”

  “With the Erlking.” It was easy enough to deduce, considering Titania was here. There were three rulers of the Unseelie in this region, and the queen was at the top.

  “They’re only titles,” he reminded. “They won’t hurt you, Arden.”

  No, because they needed her to fight their Heartless and prove that their choice was better. Only the strongest in the end could settle the Tithe and free them all.

  It was true they were only words to them. The titles of prince and king didn’t mean to the fae what they meant in Arden’s world. If the queen died—which was unlikely given that they were immortal—that didn’t necessarily mean that either Mavek or the Erlking would assume her crown.

  “Why didn’t you tell me she was coming?” Arden crossed her arms to screen herself from a cold gust of wind.

  “I only just found out myself,” he confessed, “when she arrived. She doesn’t have to tell me things, heart. I’m sworn to her, not the other way around.”

  His choice of words almost made her flinch. Almost.

  Feeling foolish for her secret thoughts, Arden pulled back, moving to exit the greenhouse. Before she could blink Mavek was before her, hands settling on her arms to keep her still.

  “You’re upset,” he concluded, and she rolled her eyes at him.

  “I was just ambushed by the Unseelie queen,” she replied coolly. “I believe I’m entitled to be unnerved. I’ve heard the stories. I know what you all are.”

  “As you always have,” he pointed out, as if he thought she was acting ridiculous for being scared of something she’d understood her entire life up until this point. “Are you having second thoughts?”

  “Of course
not.” She shook loose from his hold but didn’t move farther away. The greenhouse contained more roses than she could count and she settled on one, staring at it so that she didn’t have to look at him. “I made you a promise.” She frowned, thinking about her reasons for making that commitment. “And I’m selfish.”

  “You’re not.” He cupped her cheek, easing her head around so that she was forced to meet his gaze after all. “You were thinking of your sister when you agreed.”

  “I was—” she stopped, took a breath, “I am thinking about how I don’t want to end up like my mother. I don’t want that for Ainsley either, true, but this was never just about her, Mavek. We both know that. Don’t paint me as something I’m not.”

  He reached over and plucked a full-blown rose, careful not to catch any thorns. The petals brushed against the curve of her jaw as he moved to tuck it behind her ear. His gaze was fierce when he looked at her again, heated and burning.

  But even someone born with the sight, like her, could trick herself into seeing what she wanted to see.

  “You’re my heart,” he told her softly. “That’s all you need to be.”

  She felt tears prickle the backs of her eyes and stepped away before he could see them. She wanted to interpret his words a different way, so badly that she ached with the need. But she knew better; she knew what he’d truly meant by them.

  She was his Heartless. He’d chosen her to fight for them in the Tithe, and whether she won or she lost, after All Saints’ Eve the two of them would be done. Her role would be over and he would move on, like his kind always did. Forever. For eternity.

  “Your queen is waiting,” she whispered. When he nodded, she felt the last bit of hope crack.

  “She is.”

  “I’ll leave you then.” She turned and headed away, ignoring him when he called her name.

  Blindly, she made her way through the party, and the instant she rounded the corner of Rose Manor, hidden from the eyes of the Unseen, she ran.

  Halfway home Arden remembered the crumpled slip of paper in her pocket. Before she could stop herself, she pulled it out and typed up a text. A couple minutes later, her cell phone buzzed and she pulled off to the side of the road again to check.

  She wasn’t far from where he wanted to meet, and without replying that she was coming, she set off.

  Arden found Eskel standing a few feet from the forest, eyes scanning the darkness which occasionally lit up with a bluish-white glow. An orb appeared, illuminating the gnarled branches and trunks of the trees, only to disappear and reappear again somewhere else.

  If he heard her approach he didn’t show it.

  “You shouldn’t keep watching it like that,” she advised, indicating the orb. She came to a stop and climbed off the bike.

  Without taking his gaze off the orb, he frowned. “Someone could be lost. I can’t tell though.”

  “It isn’t a faulty flashlight,” she moved to stand next to him, “and no person is in there. Ignore it. That’s the best you can do.” When he finally looked at her she felt embarrassed and motioned around them. “You shouldn’t be out after dark.”

  “Says the girl who just came from the abandoned part of town.” He chucked his chin down the long road she’d just traveled.

  “For all you know, I live down there.”

  He seemed to be thinking this over and then nodded like it made all the sense in the world. “You do seem like the type to hole away in an empty mansion.”

  “I’m not sure what you mean by that,” she admitted as she began pushing the bike forward, “but I’m choosing to take it as a compliment.”

  “I’m glad.” He trailed slowly after her. “It seems unwise to insult you.”

  She stopped, hands tightening around her handlebars, and glanced back toward the dark woods. The will-o’-the-wisp—the glowing orb—was gone. Her suspicious nature, however, returned. Arden hated that she couldn’t trust anyone, or anything, not even her own eyes.

  The lot behind Eskel was empty, and he didn’t seem to be carrying anything. The pockets of his gray coat probably contained his cell phone, but what else?

  “How did you get here?” she asked. The nearest house was half a mile away and belonged to Mrs. Jenkins, who lived there with her three grandchildren. He definitely wasn’t one of them.

  “I walked.” He tapped the tip of his booted foot to the ground pointedly.

  “At night? Alone?”

  He eyed her and then smiled a half smile that didn’t quite reach his blue eyes. “They say spirits wander through the town when it’s dark. Would you like me to cut my finger? Show you that I still bleed?”

  She was a bit taken aback by his statement, though he had bought that copy of local folktales at the bookstore. He’d also told her a couple times that he knew about things that went bump in the night. Still, clearly he didn’t know everything, or he wouldn’t have made such a useless offer.

  “Spirits can’t bleed because they’re dead,” she drawled. “The Unseen are very much alive.”

  “So, what you’re saying is cutting myself won’t prove anything?”

  “That is what I’m saying, yeah.”

  “Huh.” He eased his hands into his front pockets. “What should I do then? To prove to you I’m not a ghoulie disguised as a boy?”

  “Well,” she blinked, “for one, if you were you probably wouldn’t have called yourself a ghoulie. But the jury’s still out.”

  He snapped his fingers and then canted his head. “I like your flower.”

  Arden had forgotten about the rose tucked behind her ear, and lifted a hand to touch it. It was lucky the flower hadn’t blown off while she was riding her bike.

  “It’s getting kind of cold for those, isn’t it?” he asked, eyeing the rose.

  “Not if taken care of properly.”

  “Huh. I don’t really know anything about gardening.”

  “Is this what you had in mind?” she asked, veering them off horticultural topics as she swept her arms out and quirked an eyebrow up at him. “When you asked me to hang out earlier?” The night had fully settled over them now, and the road was empty and silent.

  “Was this what you had in mind?” he countered. “Is that why you said no?”

  She shrugged a single shoulder. “You’d be surprised how many boys offer to bleed for me in the dark.”

  “I can imagine.” She’d meant it as a partial threat, but he didn’t seem affected in the least.

  “Who are you, Eskel Montgomery?” Arden whispered, momentarily curious before snapping out of it. She started walking her bike again, waiting for him to fall back into step at her side. “Where are you from?”

  “California,” he told her, laughing when her eyes widened. “What?”

  “Far from home.”

  “It’s not home anymore.”

  He sounded bitter, so she changed the subject. “You’ll hate the winters here, but we still get snow days, so it’ll be like you never left grade school. Kids tend to go to Thorn Hill and sled when that happens. It’s bumpy, and more than one person has broken an ankle or wrist.”

  “Have you?”

  “No.” She smiled at him. “But I also haven’t been in a while.”

  “Why not?”

  The familiar pit in her stomach yawned and she nibbled on the inside of her cheek. “My mom got sick.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “She’s not around anymore, so it doesn’t matter. My sister moved in with our aunt after.” Arden wasn’t really sure why she was telling him all this. Maybe because there weren’t really many people she could talk to.

  “My brother died seven years ago,” he said, halting when she came to a sudden stop. When she started walking again he did as well, like their brief pause never occurred. “He was only sixteen.”

  “What happened?”

  “He was murdered.” Lights from town were visible at the end of the road and Eskel pointed at them. “Is that Tollbooth's?”

  “Yes.
” She tried to read him, figure out if speaking about his brother was upsetting or not, but he didn’t seem to be thinking about it anymore. Having bad things in her own past, she knew better than to pry anyway. “Hungry?”

  “Starving.” He grinned at her and picked up the pace, taking the lead. “You’re not one of those vegetarian-type pizza people, are you?”

  She scrunched up her nose in distaste. “What’s the point? Eat a salad if you want greens.”

  “Exactly!” He rubbed his hands together to warm them up. “What about food? Do the Unseen eat?”

  She clucked her tongue. “Sorry. Watching you eat pizza isn’t gonna convince me you’re not a ghoulie either. Try again.”

  “I’ll think of something,” he declared just as they passed beneath the first lighted shop.

  It was only seven o’clock, so the streets were busy enough. By the time they locked her bike on the rack and entered Tollbooth’s, the pizza place was packed. A middle-aged couple was just rising from a booth in the corner, and Eskel made a beeline for it. Their plates and crumpled napkins still littered the surface, but he didn’t seem to mind.

  The red vinyl squeaked beneath Arden as she slid into the opposite booth, smiling at the busboy who rushed over to quickly clear the mess away.

  “Hi, George.”

  “Hey, Arden.” He nodded at her once and then left without another word.

  Eskel stared after him, then glanced at her but didn’t say anything.

  “What are you thinking?” She lifted her menu, even though she’d had it memorized since the sixth grade when she and Tabby used to meet here after school every day.

  “Pick your poison.”

  She lifted her eyes over the top of her menu, but he was busy staring at his own. It was a bit surreal, to go from an impromptu meeting with a faerie queen to hanging out in a pizza place with just another college kid. That had to be why she was picking apart every little thing he said.

  He was just a boy. If he were anything else, she would have seen it.

  “Well,” she closed her menu, “I don’t like vegetables on it, but…”