by Lish McBride
“We needed to chat, and I didn’t care to do it in a house full of people we don’t know.” Amaury stopped to purchase an iced bun.
“And I need ammunition,” Val said. “There’s a shop down this way.”
“You could have picked somewhere nicer,” Tevin said.
“I feel quite comfortable here.” Amaury licked icing off his thumb. “Besides, we have Val, and Val has her pistols.”
“Really, Amaury? You just ate.”
Amaury held up a finger, stepped back to the baker’s stall, and bought two more buns. He shoved one into Tevin’s hand. “And yet I’m able to buy a bun for no reason except that it’s delicious and I want it.” He held the other bun up and waited. “You can’t hoard every single copper, Tevin. Sometimes you have to enjoy what you’ve got.”
Val snatched it from him. “Bless the dancing fairy lords and their tiny shoes,” she groaned as she took a bite. “That’s good.”
“Val,” Tevin chided. He reached over and wiped her mouth with his handkerchief.
“Leave off.” Val batted his hands away. “I’ve got some gossip from the dance.” She took another bite. “I found out why we haven’t seen Padraig yet.”
It took Tevin a second to remember who Padraig was—he had been on Merit’s short list of possibilities, but they hadn’t heard a thing about him coming to Veritess.
“I was right, thinking he needed coin,” Val said, her mouth full of bun. “But it turns out he solved the problem hisself, so you can cross him off your little list.”
“How did he solve the problem?” Tevin said. “And for fairy’s sake, can you not talk and chew at the same time? I don’t need to see your bun. I have my own.”
Val swallowed and then stuck out her tongue. “He solved it by marrying a wealthy cattle rancher. Local fella, fairyborn, I think, but not aristocratic. Pots of cash. They eloped.”
“Well, congratulations to them,” Amaury said, “but boo for us. I was hoping he’d show up and be decent. I like Merit. Can’t say I fancy the idea of her marrying any of the twits we’ve met so far.”
Tevin grimaced. Amaury’s assessment was, unfortunately, accurate. “We’ll figure something out for her.”
“I think you should marry her,” Val said. “You’ll treat her nice, and then you’ll have pots of money and Amaury and Kate can stay with you and you won’t have to go.”
For a brief second, Tevin allowed himself to picture it, then ruthlessly quashed the idea. “She would be stuck cursed, for one. Since my job is to help her avoid men just like me, I don’t think Merit would find me acceptable marriage material. That’s two.” He’d barely managed to convince her that he was a step up from Jasper. From where Tevin currently stood, the top of Merit’s list was entire leagues away.
“Three,” Amaury said, slinging his arm around Val. “Would you really want to inflict her with Florencia and Brouchard as in-laws?”
“I guess not,” Val said sullenly.
Tevin swung his arm around her shoulder as well, sandwiching her between him and his brother. “We’ll think of something, Val. I promise.”
There was a loud squawk behind them as several men’s voices blended together in mutual outrage. Val didn’t glance back, but she grinned. “It would seem a few esteemed gentlemen have misplaced their purses. Tut-tut. Such carelessness.”
“I doubt they’ll connect us,” Amaury said, “but let’s put some distance between us anyway.”
* * *
• • •
A few blocks and several turns later, Val found an ammunition shop and ducked in. Tevin and Amaury waited outside, having little interest in pistols. He’d closed his eyes, face tilted up to catch some sun, when Amaury cleared his throat.
“Yes?” Tevin asked without opening his eyes.
“About the Everslees . . .”
Tevin opened his eyes. Amaury had a distinctly uncomfortable look on his face. Not quite shame—Tevin wasn’t sure the DuMonts possessed the ability to feel shame—but he wasn’t happy. “Spit it out, Amaury.”
“I mirrored the house to check in.” He held up his hands, stopping Tevin from yelling. “I kept the Everslees to myself. You promised Merit.” Amaury’s gaze roved over the street, taking in everything on a constant swivel as he cracked his knuckles. “I told them about a few of the people we’ve met, that’s all. Didn’t want them getting antsy and showing up.”
Tevin straightened, tipping his hat at a few ladies passing by. “Everyone we’ve met?”
Amaury puffed out a breath. “No one we liked. I’m not stupid, and I’m not cruel, no matter what you think.”
“Amaury—”
He tilted his hat down and dropped his chin to his chest as he leaned against the wall next to Tevin. “Forget it.”
He bumped his shoulder against Amaury’s. “I’m sorry.”
Minutes ticked by before Amaury finally spoke again. “I don’t want them here, Tevin. I like Merit and her friends.”
“I do too.” It was like his parents were a slow-acting poison. If they stayed somewhere long enough, someone would get hurt. They ruined good things. It was what they did best. “I’ll do what I can to help Merit. You do whatever’s needed to keep Florencia and Brouchard appeased. I trust you. I’m sorry if I made it seem otherwise.”
Amaury nodded, and though he didn’t smile, he did tip his hat back up, relaxing against the warm bricks of the wall.
* * *
• • •
When they returned from their errands, it took Tevin only a few minutes to find Merit. She was back in her favorite room, the library, sitting in front of a fire, despite the heat of the day. A red leather-bound book sat open in her lap, forgotten. Her tail rested on the floor, the end twitching in a slow beat. If Tevin were to paint a portrait of her as she was, right in this moment, he would have titled it Pensive. He thought about everything Merit had gone through since he’d met her, added that to the things he guessed at, and he could see how she would feel that way.
Tevin ignored the other chair and sat on the floor, his legs crossed, arms on his knees. He rested his head against the side of the chair and closed his eyes. It was too hot for a fire, but that didn’t stop it from being comforting.
“You’ve got to be sweating in all that fur,” he murmured after a moment.
She tilted her head to the side, considering. “I am, but I hadn’t noticed until now. You look miserable.”
“Oh, good, we can be a matched set.”
There was a slight tickle as she reached out, running her claws gently through his hair. He didn’t move, afraid she’d stop. She paused a moment, waited for him to complain, and when he didn’t, she ran her claws through his hair again. He leaned into the touch. It was like the fire. He didn’t need it, but oh, how he wanted it.
“Want to talk about it?” he asked.
“Not really,” she said.
That surprised a laugh out of him. “I won’t make you.” He kept his eyes closed, thinking it was somehow easier to apologize when you didn’t have to look at the person. “I never did say I was sorry for the other night. The dancing lessons. I should have listened. I’m sorry, Merit.”
“Thank you,” she said simply. She scraped her claws a little deeper, scratching along his scalp. After a minute, Tevin realized he was almost completely collapsed against the chair, languid like a cat.
“Okay, now that you’ve mentioned it, I can’t stop thinking about how hot it is,” Merit said.
“Want to get out of here?”
“And go where, exactly?”
Tevin shrugged himself back into a sitting position. “Somewhere fun.”
The beast frowned down at him. “I’m supposed to get ice cream with Freddie.”
He stood and held out a hand. “Do you want to get ice cream with Freddie?”
“Not even a lit
tle.” She took his hand. “And he’s nice enough. It wouldn’t be awful or anything. It’s definitely what I’m supposed to be doing.”
“You just don’t want to go,” Tevin said, pulling her up and catching the book with his free hand. “Send him a note, take your tincture, and meet me back here in ten minutes.” He set the book on the chair and nudged her to the door.
They didn’t manage to get out completely free—Kaiya somehow caught wind and was coming with them no matter what, which meant Val had to go as well. Tevin didn’t bother arguing, shoving them all into the hack he’d waved down. It wasn’t in the best shape, the metal horses visibly rusted in spots, but it would do. He put a coin into the box and whispered the directions to the metal as he did, trying not to think about the coin this trip would cost. He didn’t want to think about money tonight, or debts, or his parents. No, tonight was his version of Amaury’s sticky bun. He was going to do it because he wanted to and he could.
Merit spent the ride trying to guess where they were going. Val spent the ride staring at Kaiya and trying to pretend she wasn’t. Kaiya, for her part, stared at Tevin in a way that looked both gleeful and slightly threatening.
When the hack stopped, they all clambered out, the dust puffing up from the ground as they landed. Noise assaulted them, and Merit’s eyes lit up as she clapped her hands. “The carnival!”
Waites Family Traveling Carnival was set up on two acres of land, in what was normally a vacant lot in the city, closer to the neighborhood Tevin had been in with his brother this morning than to where Merit lived. Even from the gate, the carnival was a feast of the senses. Brightly painted signs and lights advertised rides and spectacles, while barkers competed for attention. Hot dogs! Candy apples! Visit the house of mirrors! Only one ticket! All of it blended with the noise of the crowd, and the underlying scents of animals, people, and food. Packs of children—both fairyborn and human—were chased by parents, older siblings, and nannies, darting through the other adults like minnows.
On his suggestion, Merit had worn an older summer dress, short-sleeved blue gingham. Her hair was in a simple braid, and she looked at home among the crowd, which was mostly working-class Veritess. People who’d traded in their overalls for jeans and cotton shirts or day dresses. A little girl in a sailor suit, holding on to the belt loop of an older boy’s trousers. Young women in sensible blouses and skirts, their eyes bright at the joy to come. A tall Ivanian woman, her hair wrapped up in a bright scarf, her arm linked with someone who looked like her mother as they lined up to get tickets. It was nothing at all like the balls and fancy parties he’d been attending with Merit, and he felt a flicker of doubt. He glanced at her, relieved to see her smiling and pointing out the sights to Kaiya.
Merit’s eyes were immediately drawn to the tallest ride, the Spinnaker. People stepped into large gilded birdcages before strapping themselves into the metal swing suspended in the middle. A group of mages would then power the machine, making the cages spin as they hurtled up, suspended almost horizontally along a metal pole, for one hundred and fifty feet into the air before coming back down. Tevin felt the blood drain from his face simply looking at it. This was an incredibly foolish idea.
Merit was practically dancing, her leather half boots kicking up dust. “That one! I want to do the Spinnaker first!”
Tevin elbowed Val before she could say anything. “Of course. Let’s get our tickets.” He paid their entrance fee, getting them tickets for the rides. Though he refused to let anyone else pay since it had been his idea, he didn’t stop Val from surreptitiously sliding him a few coins.
Merit grabbed Tevin’s hand and beelined for the Spinnaker, passing several smaller, tamer rides. He didn’t bother trying to talk her into those. He couldn’t. Not when she was beaming ear to ear, pink-cheeked with excitement.
The line was short, and before Tevin knew it, he was buckling himself into the cage next to Merit, his back to Kaiya and Val. He wrapped one arm around the metal pole supporting their seat. He closed his eyes, focusing on Merit’s excited chatter instead of the cold fear slithering through him.
“Tevin, are you okay?” Merit whispered.
He’d promised not to lie to her. “Mildly terrified.”
“What?”
But at that moment, the mage dropped the lever and the cage spun outward into Tevin’s own private misery. He clenched his jaw. It was only a moment. How long could the ride be, anyway? Still, when Merit’s hand slipped into his, he held on like he’d drown without it. Time seemed to slow into an eternity. The world spun at a hideous rate, his stomach trying to climb out through his nostrils, but the only thing that mattered was the small hand in his.
After the ride was a different matter. Tevin got off first, making a beeline for the trash can sitting behind the fencing around the ride, where he was immediately and disgustingly sick. He felt a hand on his back, rubbing circles.
“Is he going to be okay?” Merit asked.
“Yeah,” Val said. “He’ll be fine. I’m not surprised—he gets sick on trains.”
“I probably shouldn’t have slipped the mage an extra coin to send us through twice,” Kaiya said.
Tevin stared into the garbage can and tried not to breathe in. There was a cacophony of smells waiting to assault him when he did. “You don’t have to stay. I’m fine.”
“I don’t mind waiting,” Merit said. “We can get something to drink.”
“Well, if you don’t mind, Tev, we passed some games on the way. I thought Kaiya might like to try her hand at ring toss,” Val said, sounding hopeful.
“I would destroy ring toss,” Kaiya said.
He waved a hand at them, keeping his head over the garbage can. “Go.”
Val gave him a quick pat on the shoulder before blazing a trail to the nearest game.
Once Tevin could walk without feeling queasy, Merit found a vendor who had glass soda bottles sitting in ice, along with puffy cakes rolled in cinnamon and sugar. She bought two sodas and a basket of the cakes, and they walked to a spot where they could watch a woman wearing a large snake around her neck juggle fire.
“Why didn’t you tell me you get motion sickness?” Merit asked.
Tevin stole one of the fried cakes and popped it into his mouth, breathing around it quickly when he realized it was too hot. What he said was, “You really wanted to go,” but it came out closer to “Oo eely anted ta ga.”
“Yes, but you didn’t have to go with us. You could have waited,” Merit pointed out.
“I didn’t want to,” Tevin said. And that was the crux of it. Merit doing something that lit her up inside meant he wanted to be part of it. He couldn’t do that as a bystander. He didn’t want to just watch her have fun; he wanted to be in it.
“I don’t think I’ll ever understand boys,” Merit said, shaking her head.
“That’s probably because you’re too reasonable. You’ve got to let that go first thing.” Tevin grabbed another cake, blowing on it carefully this time. “Do you think that snake is real?”
“Yes,” Merit said. “I do.” She sipped her soda, the condensation sliding down the bottle. “How do you think someone becomes a fire juggler?”
“I have no idea,” Tevin said. “Why, do you want to change careers?”
“No.” Merit smiled. “Not that I have an option to. But don’t you ever see someone doing a job, something that you maybe didn’t even know was a job until that moment, and then wonder how they got there?”
“Merit, I often can’t even figure out how I got to where I am, let alone worry about someone else.” They finished off the cakes and found a place to drop off their basket and bottles.Merit linked her arm through his so she didn’t get jostled away from him in the crowd as they explored the rest of the carnival. Tevin tried to win a prize by throwing a ball and knocking over milk bottles (he lost), and Merit proved to be very adept at a game involving darts,
where she won a small stuffed badger with wings.
“Have you ever seen a fladger?” she asked as she handed off the stuffed toy to a sticky-faced little boy with a gap-toothed grin. He immediately used it to chase his little sister.
“I don’t think they’re real,” Tevin said. “I’ve never seen one.”
“I have—they live in the forest by our country home.”
Tevin frowned down at her. “You’re making that up.”
“Hand to heart. They get into our gardens. Drive our gardeners batty. They call them the ‘nuisance from above.’ ”
“Now I know you’re making it up.” He followed her into one of the tents, this one advertising wonders of the world. They watched a contortionist for a few minutes, followed by a brother and sister duo who were deadlifting humongous weights and demonstrating other feats of strength. After a few minutes of that, they exited into an adjoining tent that housed a cage. The cage was metal, maybe ten by ten, and had a layer of old straw at the bottom. Inside was the biggest cat Tevin had ever seen.
“A marar!” Merit gasped in dismay. Reflexively, she reached for the bars, stopping herself from getting too close. “He looks absolutely miserable.”
Tevin had never seen a marar but thought Merit might be right. The large cat was sprawled and a little listless. His dark fur didn’t look very clean, and Tevin had to lean close before he realized that the cat wasn’t solid black. There was a faint rosette pattern covering his entire body, except for the flat black of his broad nose. A thin, jagged scar cut along his nose and down to his cheek. A ruff of gray fur barely hid the collar around his neck.
“What are we going to do?” Merit looked up at him, her brows pinched. “We can’t leave him here.”
Tevin couldn’t see how there was much they could do, but he couldn’t say that. Not when she was looking at him like that. “We could come back at night and bust him out, but then we’d have to figure out how to get a large carnivorous cat out of the city.”
