Tithe (26 page)

Kaye took a series of deep breaths, preparing herself. When she felt the gag loosen, she spat out the cloth and stepped
into
the knife, whispering, “Rath Roiben Rye, stop…. I command you to stop…. I command you to …” She felt the knife bite into her arm as she spoke, heard his sob, before the thing dropped from his hand.

Then she sprang up, beating her wings hard. She rose easily into the overturned bowl of the ceiling, hovering for a moment. Lutie rose up beside her, fumbling with the rope tying her hands.

Then from one of the entrances, there was the stomping of knights, the sound of armor, and of bells. The Seelie Court had arrived.

“Better to reign in Hell then to serve in Heav’n.”

—MILTON,
Paradise Lost
(Book 1)

The knights stepped into the room first, all of them costumed in deep green armor that resembled the carapaces of insects. Next came a dozen ladies, each one dressed in a different-color gown. Kaye noted Ethine was in soft gold. After the courtiers came the Queen, resplendent in a moon-pale gown, very like the one in Roiben’s tapestry. Over it she wore a peacock-blue cape that swept the floor as she walked calmly toward the dais.

“Roiben,” the Queen said. A hissing came from the Unseelie Court. A large creature stumbled forward, only to be quelled by an iron look from one of the knights.

Nephamael writhed on the dais still, his fingers scrabbling at his neck and chest. He
seemed completely unaware of the arrival of his mistress.

Roiben looked at the Seelie Queen, and his eyes closed with an exhalation of breath that was so evocative of relief, Kaye felt herself fill with dread. There was something wrong with all this.

Around the neck of the Seelie Queen, a white pendant swung on a silver chain. Kaye stared at it as though it could hypnotize her. The Queen’s eyes were on the dais, watching the self-made King of the Unseelie Court squirm.

“Nephamael was serving
you
!” The revelation was so shocking that she spoke it aloud before she had thought it all through. She dropped down to stand beside Roiben.

It seemed as though everything stopped with those words. Even the Queen froze.

Kaye stumbled on, looking at Roiben, willing him to believe. “Roiben, you had to serve Nicnevin and Nephamael had to serve the Seelie Queen. You had to. He couldn’t disobey any more than you could.”

The Queen made a gentle smile. “The pixie is correct after a fashion. If I had commanded him to stay by my side for all time, he could not have left it. But I had given no such command. Once gone, he could no longer hear my commands and so, did not heed them. I come here today to put things to rights.”

The words seemed so reasonable, spoken by those lips. Kaye wanted to be mistaken, but the amulet still swung heavily around the Queen’s neck.

“But I saw the amulet. Nephamael was holding it when he glamoured me to look human. He seemed to be drawing his power from it.”

“You are mistaken, pixie, and you will be silent. There are more pressing matters at hand.” The Seelie Queen’s voice was firm, and several of her knights moved toward Kaye.

“Kaye …,” Roiben said, shaking his head. “The amulet is hers. It has always been so.”

Kaye turned to him, eyes flashing. “I’m not wrong!”

The crowd murmured at that. Kaye was not sure what outcome the Unseelie Court would be most pleased with; probably the one with the greatest bloodshed. She could not doubt that they were at least glad someone was insulting the Seelie Queen.

Roiben held up his hand. “I will hear her.” His pronouncement brought some measure of silence to the court. Kaye marveled at that. He was leaning against the throne with blood streaking his clothes, unarmed, and yet he still commanded enough respect that the crowd quieted for him.

He nodded to Kaye. “Speak.”

She took a deep breath and when she
spoke, she made sure that it was loud enough for everyone to hear. “I guess it’s pretty obvious now that I’m a pixie, but I’ve been disguised as a human for … well … for sixteen years. I managed to find the human girl that I was switched with. She was still in Silarial’s court.” Roiben gave Kaye a sharp look, but she hurried on.

“So that means someone in the Seelie Court switched me, even though I was living in Unseelie territory very close to Nicnevin’s court. When I was a little girl, I had three faeries that watched over me. They were also from the Seelie Court.

“I moved to Philadelphia where I lived for a couple of years until he”—Kaye pointed to Nephamael—“showed up at one of my mother’s shows. He took the guy we were living with aside, and a couple of minutes later, the guy tried to kill my mom. The next day we moved back here. A couple of days after that, my old faerie friends contacted me and said they needed me to play along with their plan.

“But they weren’t powerful enough to suggest me to Nicnevin for the Tithe. Nephamael was. He was the one in charge. So how did Nephamael wind up in the middle of a Seelie plot? Because she ordered him. It’s the only thing that makes any sense. The only reason he benefited was because Roiben stepped in. If Nicnevin hadn’t died, Nephamael wouldn’t
have benefited at all, only Silarial. Even as things stood with him being king, she would have ruled the Unseelie Court through him.”

“I will hear no more!” the Seelie Queen announced.

“You will,” Roiben said, his voice rising with impatience and then falling once more. “You are ageless, Silarial, so bide with us a time. I would hear the rest of her tale.”

Kaye spoke quickly, words rushing together as she tried to get it all out. “The amulet around her neck. That’s what made me realize what was going on. Nephamael had it the night he brought me to be sacrificed. He used it to put a heavy glamour on me. It was her necklace, her glamour. They were going to let me be sacrificed, then reveal the trick and blame Nicnevin. And today, when we got here, Nephamael was waiting for us, but no one knew we were coming to find Corny but Silarial and her Court.” At the mention of Corny’s name, Kaye couldn’t keep her gaze from flickering toward Corny. What she saw froze her tongue.

He had crept forward to where Nephamael’s body writhed. A lock of hair had fallen across his face. There was a bruise on his cheek the color of his grape-stained mouth. That reminded Kaye entirely too much of Janet’s cold lips.

As though he could feel the heat of her stare, Corny looked up. His eyes were anguished.

“Corny,” Kaye said, taking a half step forward.

Still looking at her, Corny picked up the golden knife Roiben had dropped. The beginnings of a smirk were on his lips as he lifted it.

“No!” Kaye screamed, running toward Corny, frantic to stop him from stabbing himself.

The blade plunged into Nephamael’s chest. Again and again, Corny stuck the body of the faerie knight, the knife making a sickeningly liquid sound with each thrust. Blood soaked Corny’s pants. A keening sound came from deep in his throat.

The courtiers, Seelie and Unseelie alike, watched in rapt fascination. None made a move to help as Kaye grabbed Corny’s wrists and tried to wrestle him away from the body.

He was shaking, but when Kaye pulled him forward to embrace him, she realized it was because he was laughing. Laughing so hard that he was nearly choking.

“Look what you’ve done,” the Seelie Queen said. It took Kaye a moment to realize she was talking to Corny and not about him.

A Seelie knight stepped forward and reached beneath his cloak. Kaye watched in horror as he brought out a long branch and smoothed it into a sickeningly familiar arrow. It was pointed right at her.

“Roiben, end this or I will end it for you,” the
Seelie Queen said. “I have been patient enough. It is long past time for you to return home.”

Roiben’s voice was not loud but it carried through the brugh as he walked to where Kaye was standing. “I am home, Lady. Now tell your man to put down his weapon, and I will allow you to leave the Unseelie Court unharmed.”

A hush settled over the court.

Kaye stood in stunned silence. Nicnevin had used Roiben well, far better perhaps than she realized. She had kept him close to her. She had used him against the rest of the Unseelie Court. Kaye remembered how they had drawn back from him when he escorted her through the crowd. He was not one of them, it was true, but he was remote as a king.

No one challenged him.

The Queen’s slim, perfect eyebrows lifted. “You dare?”

Roiben’s sister took a step forward, but said nothing. Her eyes were pleading.

He looked around the court, and Kaye could see him take a breath. Then he spoke. “Hear me and know the compact I offer. The solitary fey have gained seven years of freedom, but seven years will pass in the blink of an eye. Bind yourselves to me now, Unseelie and Solitary alike, and I will give you all of Samhain. Freedom from dusk until dawn forevermore.”

Kaye saw several Unseelie creatures haul
themselves up onto the dais. They did not advance on the Seelie party, but their toothy grins were all malice.

The Queen stiffened. “I think, my knight, that you will find claiming a kingdom far easier than keeping one.” With that she turned, her long peacock cloak sweeping a circular pattern in the dust of the floor. Her knights and courtiers turned as well. Only Ethine hesitated.

Roiben shook his head.

Silarial looked back and, spotting Ethine, opened her cloak. Roiben’s sister let herself be embraced and drawn away with the rest of the Seelie Court. She never saw the cruel smile that played on the lips of the Seelie Queen nor the way her eyes met Roiben’s over his sister’s bent head.

As the last Seelie left the hall, Roiben, self-declared King of the Unseelie Court, nearly fell into his throne. Kaye tried to smile at him, but he was not looking at her. He was staring out across the brugh with eyes the color of falling ash.

Corny had not stopped laughing.

The funeral parlor itself was small and Victorian. The furniture was ornate and dark wood. Even the wallpaper was somber, maroon fleurs de lis in a raised fuzzy velvet. There were people from school there, people Kaye only vaguely remembered. Kenny, Doughboy, Marcus, and Fatima were all there, sitting in a
huddle, whispering to one another constantly, even when the preacher was speaking.

Corny held Kaye’s hand through the whole funeral service, his fingers cold and sweaty and clasping hers hard enough to hurt. He didn’t cry, even when she did, but he looked pale and washed out in the black suit he wore. Each time she saw the bluish bruise on his cheek, it looked more obscene.

Kaye’s mother had been terrified, thinking that Kaye had died too … so terrified that she’d resolved to commute into the city instead of moving there. Even Kaye’s grandmother was being nice. Ellen had dropped Kaye off at the funeral parlor that night and promised to pick her up again when she called. It was strange and kind of nice, but Kaye didn’t want to get used to it.

Janet was laid out like a painting, all red curls and red lips. She looked beautiful—Ophelia surrounded by bouquets of flowers that only Roiben could name. But Kaye could smell the chemicals they’d injected into her, could smell the rotting meat of what was left, and she almost gagged when they went close. She couldn’t, however, keep her hand from straying to the cold, oddly firm flesh of Janet’s arm. Kaye dropped the gift she’d brought—a tube of blue, glittery nail polish—into the coffin.

Corny kept his death grip on her hand as he stared at the body of his sister.

Afterward, Kaye and Corny stood outside, waiting for his mother to finish saying good night to the relatives.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Corny said, his voice very quiet, “my mom stopped by the store before we got here. I had to go in for cigarettes.” He reached into the inner pocket of his leather jacket and pulled out several straws with different-color stripes circling down their packaging. “A bouquet of Pixy Stix.”

Kaye smiled. “I should be trying to cheer you up.”

“You already did your white charger bit,” he said. “Check it out … rip this sucker open and you get genuine pixie dust. Tastes like sour sugar.”

She snickered and so did he, a weird, desperate laugh that spiraled up into the night sky.

“What are you going to do now?” Kaye asked.

“I don’t know. Shit, I still have to digest what I’ve already done.”

“I know what you mean … but, you know none of it’s your fault, right?”

“Except the part at the end with the knife?”

“Even that part. Maybe especially that part.”

“Next time …,” Corny said, eyes alight in a way that Kaye was relieved to see until she heard the soft words that followed. “Kaye, I
will never be powerless again. Whatever it takes. Whatever.”

“What do you mean?”

He just squeezed her hand tighter. After a few moments, he said, “So how about you?”

She shrugged. “Did I ever mention that I know how to make leaves into money?”

“Yeah?” he said, eyebrows raised. His mother came over with a few relatives, and Corny finally let go of Kaye to get in the car. Her hand was damp and hot, and when the breeze hit it, it felt like she was wearing her insides on the outside.

The last people had left the funeral parlor and they were locking up, so Kaye crossed the street to use the pay phone in front of the supermarket. She called her mother and then sat down on the curb in front of a plastic horse that rocked back and forth if you fed quarters into it. The fluorescent lights and the organic smell of rotting vegetables and the tumble of plastic bags across the parking lot seemed so utterly normal to her that she felt disconnected from the events of two days before.

She hadn’t seen Roiben. It wasn’t like anything happened badly between them, it was just that she’d needed to take Corny home and he’d needed to stay and do whatever it was that new monarchs did. She didn’t even really feel bad that she hadn’t seen him. It was more the feeling of relief that you have when you
know that something painful is coming, but you can avoid it for the moment. If she saw him, then she’d have to listen to whatever he really thought about the two of them being together now that he was King.