Page 43 of Fae Tithe

“Yeah. He said quick as you can, too.” The young man nodded, taking a step back.

“Wait… already? I... so soon?” Helena fumbled, shocked at how quickly this had all been prepared.

“It must be now. The Seelie Court has just left the manor for the first time in ages. They’ve gone to have a feast at the Palace. Celebrating, apparently… all of them have claimed a girl, so it won’t be long until they start moving them. At least that’s what Dec said,” Simon whispered.

“Okay. We’re coming. Thank you, Simon,” Helena said, blinking the exhaustion from her eyes.

“Good luck, Mrs Neycur.” He nodded, stepping away into the gloom.

Helena closed the door and rushed to the bed. Lance’s feet dangled over the edge awkwardly, and she tapped his shoulder until he blearily opened his eyes.

“Len? You alright?” Lance asked.

“We have to go. Declan said it’s time to get El,” Helena quickly explained. “Get up. Get dressed.”

Lance was normally slow to get going after being woken. This time, however, he leapt from the straw-stuffed bed with a speed that she had never seen from him before and threw on his clothes. Helena followed suit. She shoved her dagger into the leather casing on her belt and tucked the shucking knife into her boot. Helena glanced at Lance’s lean waist. He had tucked one of the matching blades into the sheath on his belt and the other into a strap across his chest.

Lance met Helena’s eyes and nodded. “Let’s go get her.”

Helena made out the skinny, cloaked figure in the dim lamplight of the lane. She and Lance approached the young man. He threw back his hood and raised his gloved hands in mock surrender.

“This is not the time for jokes,” the Merman warned, a line deepening between his dark eyebrows.

“Okay, okay.” Declan smirked, quickly dropping his hands. “We have a small amount of time to get you in and out. The Seelie Court has temporarily left for a celebration. The Manor Guards are…sick. The kitchen faeries did well spiking their meals on such short notice. It will wear off soon. The plan is, once I get you through the gardens and into the building, I’ll hand you over to the next person. They know exactly where your daughter’s bedroom is.”

“How do you know all of this?” Helena asked.

Declan cocked his eyebrow at her. “My network is large, Mrs Neycur. They see and hear a lot, reporting back to me. You may not believe it, but I feel sorry for the staff at the manor, indentured to the Fae… after all, I have been hurt by them too.” He tugged up the sleeve of his shirt and tore off the blackened, soaked gauze wrapping his forearm, revealing an inflamed wound leaking black ink.

Helena sucked air through her teeth. “What happened to you?”

“When my Seelie father tried to force me into a bargain, to wear a bracelet, I wouldn’t agree—”

Lance, brow furrowed, clicked his tongue. “Do Bargain Bracelets only work when the Landfolk wearing them agree to it?”

Declan nodded. “That’s right. And this…” He shook his exposed arm. “…is over ten years old. It was supposed to be a tattoo, which doesn’t have to be agreed on. The ink is woven with a compulsion spell. I managed to kill the Fae tattooist, who was under orders from my father, and then I ran away.” His throat bobbed. “It still feels the same as when it first happened… it hurts, it burns, every single day, reminding of me of how they treat people.” He tugged his sleeve back down.

Helena closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose, a crushing ache of the unknown weighing on her. What choice do I have? We missed the opening when the Seelie Court left… I suppose we could wait until they come back. But then, if what Simon said is true… they will be moving the girls soon, and El could be one of them. This is madness! I can’t believe I’m trusting two men barely out of their teenage years and a bunch of pissed-off faeries with this. What do I do? Sometimes the only thing you can do is… the next right thing. Is this the next right thing?

“Len…” Lance squeezed her shoulder gently. “Are you alright?”

She blinked, dropping her hand and looking up at him. “I’m okay.” She nodded to the Merman before turning to Declan. “Now or never.”

“Well said,” Declan replied, tucking his hood back over his head and leading the way.

Helena and Lance followed the young man through silent streets, dimly illuminated by oil-fuelled streetlamps. The only sound was their boots tapping on the cobblestones.

On their walk over to Tithe Manor, in hushed tones, Declan explained that the protection ward in place around the grounds was impenetrable, but only when the padlocks at each of the four gates were physically locked. The protection ward had been woven into the materials themselves, making them indestructible.

Helena nudged Lance. “You were right about the ward.” The Merman nodded, standing a little taller at the acknowledgement.

Declan had organised for a faerie servant to leave the gate unlocked, the padlock hanging loosely on the deadbolt. He simply opened the gate and stepped through. Helena stood at the open gate, eyeing it with suspicion, a creeping hesitation settling across her mind. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her thundering heart.

Lance placed a hand on the small of her back, rubbing a circle. “I’m with you, when you’re ready.”

It snapped her out of her doubts. Looking straight ahead, she gave a firm nod. “Let’s get this done.” Helena stepped through.

Declan led them, moving carefully through the gardens. He guided them away from the black gravel pathways and trod lightly across the immaculate lawns instead. Helena immediately understood why: the gravel would be too loud in the eerily quiet night. Lance brought up the rear, towering over the other two.