Page 42 of Fae Tithe

The Blue Cap reached for her well-muscled forearm and squeezed. “You can. He’s a good boy, even if he is a little shit.”

Helena watched Lance’s eyebrows fly up into the black curls that framed his face, amusement dancing in his eyes. “That was exactly Len’s description of him.” He chuckled, then took a sip of his remaining mead.

Beth laughed and stood from the table. “Now that’s settled, finish up your drinks and go to bed. It’s late,” she ordered playfully.

“You got it.” Helena smiled, draining her glass. She allowed herself to feel a sliver of hope.

She noticed Simon in her periphery. His eyes had tracked his mother as Beth left the room to turn in for the night. Helena watched the young man’s throat bob as he approached their table. Simon squeezed the rag he had been wiping tables with in his hands.

“You alright there?” Lance asked.

Helena thought that Simon might faint at the Merman’s question, given how nervous he seemed. He was practically hopping from foot to foot. She gave him a grin and caught Lance’s softened expression in the corner of her eye.

“I know he seems scary,” Helena teased, “but I am actually the more terrifying one out of the two of us.” Lance gave her a velvet chuckle in response.

“Dec said you pinned him against a wall.” Simon eyed the Merman warily.

“I did,” Lance agreed. “To be fair, he was following us very suspiciously. He could have just stopped to talk to us.”

Simon gave them a shy smile, his eyes meeting Helena’s for the first time. “That does sound like something he would do.”

“Did you have something to tell us?” Helena asked.

The young man’s smile shifted into a frown. “Mum’s wrong about Dec.”

“We can’t trust him then?” Lance asked.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant.” Simon stumbled over his words. “You can trust him. It’s our group. I just thought you should know. We don’t just do pranks. The things we do are getting more serious, and Mum just doesn’t know about it. Dec told me the next plan is huge – like, it could change everything, huge.” His throat bobbed again. “I just thought you should know, that’s all...” he repeated, as though he was not quite sure what else to say.

“Thanks, Simon.” Helena smiled. “I appreciate it. Have you heard from him about the manor?”

“I have, Miss. He told me things will be ready very soon… once money has changed hands,” Simon ventured.

“Of course he did.” Helena scoffed. She slipped her hand into her leggings, fishing out a handful of Seels from the hidden pocket. “He can have more for his faeries when I get my daughter back.” She placed them into Simon’s outstretched hand.

He slipped them into his pocket. “No problem, Miss. I’ll pass that on. Be ready.”

Helena and Lance excused themselves and made their way up to their room for the night. His footsteps creaked on every wooden step as they climbed. Their room was humble. It was small, with a barely-double bed tucked under the window, a simple plush armchair, and a table with a jug of water and cups.

“We’re doing it, aren’t we?” Lance asked, slumping down onto the armchair. He wriggled his feet around and kicked off his boots.

“Yes,” Helena replied. “No more waiting, love, I can’t anymore. The moment Declan says things are in place, I go. You don’t have to join me. I know you feel like you can’t trust him.”

Lance reached forward from his seated position and tugged Helena down onto his lap. He enveloped her into his arms and pressed his forehead to Helena’s. Lance’s eyes bored into hers so intensely she nearly drowned in them, lost for words.

“Sweetheart, wherever you go, I go too,” he promised.

The pair took turns to clean up in the cupboard-sized bathroom, Lance going first. Each washed the day’s sweat and dirt from their bodies with a cotton rag and soap in the small sink, complete with a worn-out tap. Helena enjoyed the basic indoor plumbing, a rarity on the Clusters, where most people hefted their water from wells and used outhouses. Once she was washed, she dropped her blouse over her body, using it as a night gown.

Lance was already sleeping underneath the cotton sheet of the sagging bed, snoring gently, as Helena tucked herself next to him. Despite his closed eyes and steady breaths, he pulled her into his chest, draping his arms around her. The Merman always wanted her close when they shared a bed together, as though he was worried that she would disappear into the night. Helena’s eyes grew heavy in his warmth, and she drifted off to sleep herself.

No sooner had her head hit the pillow, finding fitful oblivion, than she snapped awake again. A knock on the door of their bedroom had Helena extracting herself from the tangle of Lance’s long limbs. She tiptoed across the room, not wanting to wake her Merman if there was no one there. She stood at the door, frowning, wondering if she had dreamt the noise. Another knock, too loud in the quiet room, had her unbolting and cracking open the door a sliver.

She recognised the bright blue eyes that met her face. “Simon?” Helena asked, dim light spilling in from the narrow corridor. “What is it? Are you okay?”

“Dec wants you to meet him in the lane where you met him earlier,” Simon whispered.

“Now?” She opened the door wider, taking in the dark circles under his eyes. To Helena, it looked like the he had not slept a wink since their conversation.