heaviness of wearing bone and muscle again. She reached her hands out and touched the rocks that jutted unevenly in the cave. It was within the side of a mountain, not visible to the High Queen or perhaps simply not worthy of her notice. Devlin had made the cave where Rae hid. Like the queen, Devlin could bend reality in Faerie if he wanted to, but no one—save Rae—knew that Devlin could remake the world at his will. Out of respect for his queen, he’d hidden that truth from everyone.
“Oh, the things we could do if you weren’t so obstinate, Dev,” she said. “The world could be ours. No limits. Think about the freedom, the pleasures.…”
I’m not going to spend all day like this, Rae, he said. Or discussing that again.
“Only because you know I’m right, and you’re going to have to admit it or lie to me … which you can’t do.” Rae grinned and kicked off the sandals that Devlin had worn. They were too utilitarian, too restrictive. Feet bare,
Rae stepped out the doorway into the brightness of Faerie. It felt deliciously scandalous to have her feet naked. Such a thing would’ve shocked everyone she’d known in the mortal world.
I serve the High Queen. It’s the choice I made, he repeated as usual.
“Some choices can be traps. Do you honestly think that staying the course just because you once thought it was right is wise? There are other choices.”
Enough, Rae. He raised his voice inside their body. Can we not … argue? Take the body where you will, Rae. Devlin sounded both wearied and hopeful.
Rae heard the hope in his voice. It was small progress, but it was progress.
Ani and Tish flung themselves down the street toward the Crow’s Nest. It wasn’t quite running, but it was far faster than walking. Ani had to pace herself, force her feet to move slower to keep beside Tish. It didn’t used to be like that, but over the last year, Ani had changed more every month. Tish hadn’t.
Ani had always been a little different, but not enough to matter. She was just part of Ani-and-Tish, the “Trouble Twins”—even though Tish was really almost three years older. They had a difficult time being apart, so Tish stayed home a couple years extra before starting school. She helped Ani with book stuff and following mortal world rules, and Ani kept Tish safe from dangers and boredom. That was how it worked. And it did work—until Ani had changed too much.
“Ani?” Tish’s voice was breathless. “Slower?”
“Sorry.” Ani slowed down, looking up ahead at the cluster of people outside the Crow’s Nest. Mortals. Almost everyone there was mortal, but that was fine by Ani. All the delectable faeries were afraid of Gabriel and of Irial, but mortals weren’t aware of the Dark Court. Most weren’t aware of the existence of faeries—which made them the best game in town.
“… Rabbit’s worried about money.” Tish was breathing heavily, despite Ani slowing down even more.
“Money?”
“Things are tight, but he’s still talking like I should”—Tish sent a pleading look at Ani—“go to college next year. Not far away or anything, but just … away.”
Ani kept her face as expressionless as she could. “Oh … so you want to … I mean … if that’s what you want, good.”
“I do, but I don’t like being far from you or Rab or Iri or Dad, especially lately. I hated when Winter was constant, but at least then you knew what to expect. With the courts all snarling at one another … I’m not sure I want to be away.” Tish looked down briefly, not saying the things they couldn’t, not admitting that she was too weak to defend herself.
Ani slowed to a casual stroll. Tish being out of reach scared Ani, but Tish being out of the growing conflict in Huntsdale was appealing. Ani didn’t voice that. No one—least of all Ani—was going to let Tish go where she was unprotected.
“I could come,” Ani suggested. “Not to school, but I could get a job or something. We can get an apartment.
Oooh, maybe in Pittsburgh near Leslie? Or in Atlanta? You could totally pass there if you wanted.”
“You couldn’t.” Tish said it softly. “Not anymore.”
“Whatever.” Ani didn’t want to talk about that. She wasn’t able to pass as mortal: any faery seeing her would know, but she was also under the protection of the strongest of the Dark Court faeries. Outside Huntsdale, she’d be vulnerable.
“Maybe in a few years I could go.” Tish hugged her. “You’ll get better at being what you are, Ani. I know you will. It’ll get easier.”
“Whichever is best for you is what we’ll do.” Ani forced a smile to her lips.
It was a matter of time until they’d end up apart. Halflings were sometimes strong, but strong Dark Court halflings were often targeted by solitaries or kidnapped by the High Court. Not strong enough to be truly in the Dark Court, but too threatening to live outside it. Irial’s protection had kept them safe—and well hidden—for most of her life. Then Ani had changed and had to move away from her family. Rabbit and Tish were not fey enough to need to be within the court, and Ani was too fey to live outside it. Rabbit was able to pass; Tish was able to pass; and now that Ani lived with the Hounds, Rabbit could relocate to somewhere away from Huntsdale. So Tish is safe.
Ani wasn’t book smart, but she understood a few things she hadn’t when they were pups: Tish was almost mortal, and Rabbit had known how different the two girls were from each other long before they did. He didn’t talk about those things, and Ani didn’t do anything that demonstrated how different she was from Tish. She’d kept that as secret as she could, for as long as she could. Life was about secrets and pretending. It had been that way since Jillian died.
Jillian wasn’t even a face in Ani’s memories; she was hands and too-fast words trying to get Ani-and-Tish—their names were already just one word then—to hide and “stay quiet, please quiet like you’re bunnies. For Mama?”
And after, when it was just Ani and Tish, when Jillian never came back to open the cupboard where the girls stayed still and waiting, Ani remembered that part too. Tish was sad, broken somewhere inside that Ani couldn’t fix. She pretended though, for Ani. Tish held on to Ani, and late that night Tish pushed the buttons they had on the phone to the “special number for trouble.” That was when Irial came and took them to Rabbit; that was when Irial made them safe in a new home.
Tish didn’t remember that day. She’d erased it from her memory, locked it away somewhere. The before and the after was what Tish remembered: Irial, Rabbit, and a new home. Tish never remembered the other parts.
Ani did.
Remembering Jillian not coming back made Ani feel raw inside. The day when Jillian was gone and Tish was sad was the first complete memory that Ani had. Life, as she remembered it, began for Ani in that moment.
“Hey, you okay?” Tish grabbed Ani’s hand and pulled her to the side of a group of guys headed into the club. “You weren’t listening to a thing I said, were you?”
“Sorry,
