Page 37 of Fae Tithe

Lance lined his horse up next to hers and she saw him grimace. Helena wondered if the sheer volume of the noise hurt him. She knew the Merman’s hearing was more sensitive than her own.

He gave her a weak smile, his hood still low on his face. “What’s the plan, Len?”

The question spurred her into action, as though he knew she needed it to get her moving again. Helena squeezed the reins in her hands, her fingernails filthy from the road, dirt caked into the lines of her fingers.

“An inn, with a stable,” she replied. “We can check in and ask around, find out where Tithe Manor is.” With that, she squeezed her horse with her thighs and gave a gentle tug on the right rein.

Lance was painfully aware that he not been to Solas before. Neither had Helena, of course, but at least she had more experience with large Landfolk cities. The noise affected him most of all, oppressively constant and close. He could cope with the festival in Portson, but this was something else entirely.

Solas was magnificent, writhing with life, a far cry from their quiet lives on Majora. Lance’s keen eyes took in the sights. The wide streets and narrow laneways, with well-maintained cobbled roads, made up the majority of his view. The narrower alleys had a sea of colourful canvas shade sails, sheltering the occupying stalls from the strong sun.

Lance eyed the small, vibrantly coloured shopfronts and market stalls that sold a variety of food and wares. Most of the vendors hawked their merchandise at the Merman and Helena as they plodded by on their horses. Their hoofsteps echoed on the cobblestones, adding to the din.

The streets bustled as faeries and humans dashed about in simple uniforms of loose red shirts and slack brown trousers. He found it odd that most people on errands seemed to be dressed the same. There were plenty of Fae men as well. They were all tall, lean, and beautiful, each surrounded by uniformed faeries and humans running at their every whim. Lance could count the number of times he had met Fae on two hands, so he found it disjointing to see so many in one place.

He followed Helena’s lead, orientating himself by checking where they were in relation to the massive Golden Spire in the centre of the city. It seemed to stab the sky. His hand drifted to the scar on his belly from when he was harpooned six years ago. It itched whenever he eyed the spike.

The Merman could sense Helena’s frustration building, seething around her in a nearly tangible aura. The first inn with adjacent wooden stables would have been suitable, but the human owner took one look at Lance and told them there was no room to spare. The owner of the second establishment they tried was far more aggressive in her refusal.

The faerie, with small goat horns and curly hair, looked Lance up and down with a sneer. “We don’t take Seafolk here.”

He felt a pang of hurt, lips tugged down, but he turned to leave.

Helena was not so obliging. “Why the fuck not?” she growled, clenching and unclenching her fists.

The faerie wrinkled her nose and glanced at the Merman. “His stench! It will clear out the rest of my customers.”

His brave woman bared her teeth. “His what?!” She took a step forward, pulling back a balled fist.

Panic pulsed through Lance. He strode forward, catching her elbow. “Len, no, it’s not worth it. We will just find somewhere else.” He practically dragged her out of the inn.

Helena rounded on him. “Why did you stop me?! She had no right to speak to you like that.”

Lance rested a hand on each of her shoulders, looking deep into her narrowed gaze. “Sweetheart, I am so grateful that you wanted to defend me like that, but remember who we are here for.”

A confused look passed over her face. “El?”

The Merman nodded firmly. “Yes. Getting into a fight here could attract the attention of the Solas Guard. We could end up in jail, or our plan to find her could be uncovered.”

All of the anger dropped from her shoulders. “I’m sorry. I just… It makes me so mad, the way some people get treated in this Faedamn kingdom…”

“It’s alright.” Lance gave her a gentle squeeze. “Defend my honour some other time. I love it,” he teased with a wink.

Though he put on a brave face for Helena, it always hurt his heart when he was treated that way on land. Lance knew his otherness scared many Landfolk, and, rather than offering a warm welcome to someone new, they despised him. It was not the first time it had happened, and it certainly would not be the last.

“Let’s try here.” Lance pointed to a sign with a carved spiral sun and twisted rays on a wooden plaque that hung from the taupe brick. The plaque was fixed in place by a bronze pole above the blue doorway into the establishment “Bright Sun Inn,” he read out loud.

In their desperation to find somewhere to stay and gather the information they needed, Lance and Helena found themselves on the outer reaches of the walled city, closer to the Western Gate they had glimpsed in their search. The buildings were less crowded in this section of capital. The ramshackle, terraced houses there seemed older and more run-down. Here, the faeries and humans were not uniformed, moving unhurriedly and chatting to one another as they came and went. Lance smiled as he saw that some even had small gardens overflowing with herbs and vines, growing at the front of their tired homes. It was quieter in this part of Solas, and Lance’s ears were thankful for it.

With the ebb of deafening, constant noise, he could finally think clearly. The urgency of getting Eleanor back had risen again like a tide in his mind. He had wanted to speak to both of them, to tell them everything about him and about his hopes for this visit. Lance needed to talk to Helena about becoming Bound and making things more formal between the members of the little family.

Then the Fae Tithe had taken all that from him. Every time Eleanor’s name was mentioned or a thought of her crossed his mind, a bite of fear clamped around his chest. She was in danger, and he knew it. He was desperate to get her back, and it dogged his every step. It had also wounded his partner, his Helena, in way that split her heart in two and unleashed a seething fire of rage he had never seen in her before.

Lance’s breath hitched. They stole my daughter from me, before I even had the chance to ask to make it official.

The Merman had learnt briefly of the Fae Tithe. In his teenage years, he had been educated about the neighbouring kingdoms of the Nautilus Sea Court he served. Lance had run his webbed hands over the knotted histories in the library, reading all the knowledge he could with his sensitive fingers. Each green strand was intricately weaved and braided into kelp lines longer than the Golden Spire of Solas was tall. Despite the limited information, he had read of human families gifting their girls to the Fae. Even as a youth, he had thought the practice barbaric, never dreaming it would affect those he loved the most.

Lance and Helena dismounted, handing their horses off to a short, skinny human who had stepped from the connecting stables. The silver-haired man waved them in with a smile, gesturing to the entrance of Bright Sun Inn.