"Ravus?" Val asked, although she knew his voice.
The other faerie slunk away, but Ravus kept his fingers at her neck. "It's dangerous here. You should be more careful. Now I'd like you to at least try and break free."
"You never taught me—," she began, but then she stopped, ashamed of the way her voice sounded like whining. He was teaching her now. After all, he was giving her time to think what the possible moves might be. It wasn't as though he was choking her. He was giving her time to win.
Val relaxed, pressing her back to his chest and grinding against him. Startled, he loosed his grasp and she pulled free. He clutched her arm, but she spun around and pressed her mouth to his.
His lips were rough, chapped. She felt the sting of fangs against her bottom lip. He made a sharp sound in the back of his throat and closed his eyes, mouth opening under hers. The smell of him—of cold, damp stone—made her head swim. One kiss slid into another and it was perfect, was exactly right, was real.
He pulled back abruptly, turning his head so that he wasn't looking at her. "Effective," he said.
"I thought maybe you wanted me to kiss you. Sometimes I thought I could see it." Her heart was thundering in her chest and her cheeks were scalding, but she was pleased that she sounded calm.
"I didn't want you…" Ravus said. "I didn't want you to see it."
She almost laughed. "You look so shocked. Hasn't anyone ever kissed you before?" Val wanted to do it again, but she didn't dare.
His voice was cool. "On rare occasions."
"Did you like it?"
"Then or now?"
Val sucked in a breath, let it out with a sigh. "Both. Either."
"I liked it," he said softly. It was then that she remembered he could not lie.
She ran her hand over his cheek. "Kiss me back."
Ravus caught her fingers, clutched them so hard that they hurt. "Enough," he said. "Whatever game you are playing at, end it now."
She pulled her hand out of his grip, sobering abruptly, and took several steps back from him. "I'm sorry—I thought—" In truth, she couldn't recall what she'd thought, what had made this seem like a good idea.
"Come along," he said, not looking at her. "I'll take you back to the tunnels."
"No," Val said.
He stopped. "It would be unwise to remain here, no matter your—"
Val shook her head. "That's not what I mean. Someone found our place. There's nowhere to go back to." It had been a long time since there was something to go back to, anything to go back to anywhere.
He spread his hand as though trying to express something inexpressible. "We both know that I am a monster."
"You're not—"
"It demeans you to cover rotten meat with honey. I know what I am. What would you want with a monster?"
"Everything," Val said solemnly. "I'm sorry I kissed you—it was selfish and it upset you—but you can't ask me to pretend I didn't want to."
He regarded her warily as she took a step closer to him. "I'm not very good at explaining things," she said. "But I think you have beautiful eyes. I love the gold in them. I love that they're different from my eyes—I see mine all the time and I'm bored with them."
He snorted with amusement, but stayed still.
She reached up and touched the pale green of his cheek. "I like all the things that make you monstrous."
His long fingers threaded through the peach fuzz of her hair, clawed nails resting carefully against her skin. "I'm afraid that whatsoever I touch is spoilt by the contact."
"I'm not scared of being spoiled," Val said.
The side of Ravus's mouth twitched.
A woman's voice pierced through the air, sharp as the clang of a bell. "You sent for Silarial after all."
Val whirled. Mabry stood in the courtyard, tendrils of hair caught by the breeze. All around them, Folk were staring. After all, here was a chance for gossip.
Ravus's hand rested on the small of Val's back and she could feel the curl of nails against her spine. His voice was flat as he addressed Mabry. "Lady Silarial's mercy may be dreadful, but I have little choice but to throw myself on it. I know she came to talk to you—perhaps when she sees how unhappy you have been and how helpful you are, she will take you back to Court."
Mabry's mouth bent into a wry smile. "We all must avail ourselves of her mercy. But now I want to do you a good turn for what you have done for me."
Val reached into her back pocket to give back Mabry's comb, the tines of it poking her fingers as she drew it out. Seaweed-wrapped pearls and tiny doves from the inside of sand dollars clung to the crest of the comb. Looking at it, Val suddenly saw the mermaid, necklace coiling in ropes of pearls and shell birds, dead eyes staring forever up at Val while her hair floated along the surface of the water, bereft of a matched comb.
Holding the comb in numb fingers, Val realized that it had come from a corpse.
"Mabry gave me this," Val said.
Ravus looked at it mildly, clearly not attaching any significance to it.
"It came from the mermaid," Val said. "She took this from the mermaid."
Mabry snorted. "Then, how is it that it came to be in your hand?"
"She gave it—"
Mabry turned to Ravus, interrupting Val smoothly. "Did you know she's been stealing from you—skimming off the top of your potions like a boggart drinks the head of cream off a bottle of milk?" Mabry snatched Val's arm, pushing up the sleeve so that Ravus could see the black marks inside the crook of her elbow, the marks that looked like someone had put out a cigarette in her flesh. "And look what she's been doing—stuffing her veins with our balm. Now, Ravus, you tell me who's the poisoner. Will you suffer for her mistakes?"
Val reached her hand toward Ravus. He pulled back.
"What have you done?" he asked, tight-lipped.
"Yes, I shot up the potions," Val said. There was no point in denying anything now.
"Why would you do that?" he asked. "I thought it was harmless, just something to keep the Folk from pain."
"Never… it gives you… it makes humans… like faeries." That wasn't it, not exactly, but his face already said, You didn't mind that I was monstrous because you are a monster.
"I had thought better of you," Ravus said. "I had thought everything of you."
"I'm sorry," Val said. "Please, let me explain."
"Humans," he said, the word soaked with repugnance. "Liars, all of you. Now I understand my mother's hate."
"I might have lied about that but I'm not lying about the comb. I'm not lying about everything."
He grabbed Val's shoulder, his fingers so heavy she felt as if she was held by stone. "Now I know what you saw in me to love. Potions."
"No!" Val said.
When she looked up at Ravus's face, there was nothing there that was familiar, nothing that was kind. His clawed thumb pressed against the pulse of her throat. "I think it is time that you were gone."
Val hesitated. "Just let me—"
"Go!" he shouted, pushing her away from him and curling his fingers into a fist so tight that his claws cut the pads of his own hand.
Val stumbled back, her throat stinging.
Ravus turned to Mabry. "Say that you feel revenged on me. At least tell me that."
"Not at all," Mabry replied with a sour smile. "I did you a good turn."
Val went, retracing her steps along the path, through the wall of fog, the woods and up to the castle, her eyes blurry and her heart aching. There, watching the distant flicker of the city lights, Val thought suddenly of her mother. Was this how she had felt, after Tom and Val were gone? Had she wanted to go back and change everything, but lacked the power?