Chapter 27 Behold, The Wuss of Fairyland
YOU’VE PROBABLY FIGURED OUT WHO my parents are,” Hanry says to begin.
“Adopted parents,” I say, waving him on. We’re on a time crunch, after all.
“Yeah, well. The technical term is probably ‘abductive parents.’ I told you I was adopted, but the truth is, it was a sort of… quasi-legal process. I remember being in the human world as a kid, living in the middle of nowhere. I was bored a lot. Until I met my dad. Tits. I’d snuck out of the house to play outside, and I found Dad blowing up a car with a forked stick he’d pulled from a maple tree.
So I was like, this guy is awesome. I wanted him to show me how he did it.
I offered him my own stick, which apparently had a pretty nifty mushroom growing on it. Dad took it as a sign.”
“I can’t tell from your tone if this encounter was good or bad.”
“Good,” says Hanry, eyebrows rising emphatically. “My human dad wanted me to learn to code.”
“Horrible,” I say. But only because Hanry seems to be expecting it.
“Right? You’ve seen me with computers,” Hanry says.
“Anyway, Dad swore I’d see more interesting things if I went with him.
Since he wasn’t offering candy or anything, I figured it couldn’t get me in too much trouble.
And… sure enough, it didn’t. I never missed my old life.
When it was time to have my—you know—when I met you, I was exploring the world beyond Fairy.
It’s a tradition for changelings like me. ”
“Right. And when the Amish do it, they tell people. ‘Hi, I’m Amish. I don’t know what a dishwasher is, aren’t I adorable? Would you like a fresh rutabaga from my garden?’ ”
I don’t actually know if this is how Amish people behave. Under their circumstances, it seems reasonable, unlike whatever the hell it was Hanry thought he was pulling. He must realize this too, because the color in his cheeks flares.
“I didn’t want you to think differently of me.”
Oh my god. “Hanry, I have a pet head. Did you seriously think that being royal fairy spawn was a dealbreaker?”
“You hate the paranormal community.”
The mime-fairies gasp silently. At least, most of them do; one of the five breaks his miming duties to scratch his aquiline nose.
“Hate’s a strong word,” I say. Although he has a point.
“I guess it doesn’t matter,” Hanry says at length. “You were always talking about leaving Salem, anyway. Weirdly, our time together made me more interested in Salem than I would’ve been without you. So thanks for showing me around. Introducing me to the night market, the wharf…”
“You’re welcome. And now that we’ve cleared everything up, it’s time to get you out of here.” I point at my wrist, making the tick-tick-tick noise. I’m not sure Hanry can read time from glow sticks, but you never know. “We’ve got two, three minutes left at best.”
Hanry glances at his guard-mimes. On cue, they begin hum-growling with emphatic menace. At least to me, it’s intimidating, though Hanry’s broad-shouldered enough that he could probably snap one of those fairy dudes in half.
“Back at Sidney’s wedding,” says Hanry, “I told you my mom and I’d had an argument.”
I nod, remembering. “I’m guessing it was about getting hitched. Was she pissed when you told her no?”
“Not exactly.”
“Ah. Sad, then?”
Hanry hesitates. And—oh god. Hanry, for all his burly manliness and kindness, has one flaw. One even he described as a flaw, on our first date: a tendency to slip out and avoid uncomfortable things.
“Hanry? You… you did tell her you didn’t want to get married, right?”
The miming fairies, agitated, increase the speed of their rapid wall-building.
“Knock it off,” I snap at them. “Tell me I’m right, Hanry. Tell me.”
“I was trying to tell her!” says Hanry weakly.
Trying?
Heat rising in my head, I look at Hanry again. Really look this time. For a prisoner, he’s well-rested. And he is dressed up, without mussed hair or bruising or scratches. I glance down at his handcuffs. His wrists are pale, with no signs of chafing or blood from attempts to claw them off.
In fact, the manacles look like bracelets.
Royal bracelets. Beautiful royal bracelets, without sharp, serrated edges, or any flecks of dried blood. The only thing they have are insignias carved into the gold.
This… this absolute trash human. This lumberjackass.
Hanry hasn’t attempted to escape; he doesn’t want to escape.
While I spent all night making plans, all morning tearing out my hair, somewhat literally, trying to keep my cool while I found out where he was being kept prisoner, he hasn’t done a thing to stop this?
Down to this very moment, when he’s letting himself be imprisoned by off-brand mimes?
“Hanry.” I feel my nails digging into my palms. Apparently, I’m curling my fists. Apparently, I am 10/10 pissed. “How do you ‘try’ to tell someone you don’t want to get married?”
“Well—”
I bounce from the settee to my feet. “Last night, I saw you running at arrow-point. Arrows, Hanry. Pointy death sticks. You were naked. You asked me to help you.”
“Yes,” he sighs. “I never liked that after-dinner party game.”
I throw an egg tart from the dessert tray at him.
“Hey!”
“I stayed up all night plotting a heist for you!”
“And for that, I thank—”
The next tart smacks him satisfyingly in the face.
“Please don’t do that,” says one of the fairies. “It makes our wall look ineffectual.”
“You are all ineffectual!” I burst out. “This is bullshit!”
“Sabby, I still need your help,” Hanry pleads. “I don’t want to marry May! She only wants me for my beard. And she’s terrifying. She could literally take me apart.”
“I could take you apart.”
“But you wouldn’t!”
I laugh maniacally, squeezing the filling out from the middle of a pastry. “You don’t know what I would and wouldn’t do right now.”
“You like me!”
“I did!” I retort. “Before you proved you’re totally spineless.”
“You don’t understand. My mom’s terrifying!”
“Oh, whatever! I’ve said no to her twice today! And can you make your fairy manservants knock off with the French clown act already? I know they’re not actually trapping or protecting you.”
The fairies break apart from their circle, heads down as if ashamed.
“It’s true,” says the nose-scratcher. “He told us to do this when he heard you coming.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Hanry. You’re not worried about getting married, not really, or else we’d be leaving right now! You’re just a coward.”
“I am not!” he counters, finally starting to look as angry as I feel. “You’re making this about you! But I have to stay here, to protect Seb!”
“Seb?!” I sputter. “He isn’t even here—”
“Yes, Sabby, exactly!” Hanry says with heat. “If I don’t marry May, Mom is going to make Seb do it!”
I only need a half second to process this. “Okay. So if neither of you can say no, then you’re both spineless! Seriously, Hanry. I get that you want to play the noble hero, but why can’t you back out and save both of your skins? What is wrong with you? I mean it. What is wrong with you?”
At this—at last—Hanry doesn’t have an answer. He becomes fascinated with the opposite wall. He runs a hand through his hair.
“I—I don’t know,” he says.
Damn it. They’re such strong, nicely shaped hands. They should be holding on to mine as we escape the castle together, or raised in triumph after he stands up to his parents like an actual adult. A freaking waste is what it is. It’s… it’s…
“Excuse me,” pipes up a fairy-mime. “Are you finished yet?”
I stiffen. “What?”
“We really need to…” Two fairies break away from the rest, simulating the action of booting me out on my butt. And damn, that’s annoying. Annoying enough that I can push my heartbreak to the side, and say, “Fine. I’m out. Have a good life, Hanry.”
I have no idea what expression Hanry makes, because I’ve already turned away.
Not just turned away, either: I’m moving, like I’m drawn by a magnet, against my control, out of the room.
Out of his suite and into the pitch-black hallway.
All I know is, I’ve got to get away. To be anywhere else but standing before my ex-boyfriend, who isn’t who I thought he was.
Who can’t be the person I need him to be.
The door thudding behind me, I shuck off my glow-stick bracelet and toss it. In the darkness, I hear it clatter into a hole. Fine. Bye. It’s not like I’ll be relying on its light anymore.
I don’t know what I’m going to do.
I’ve spent the last twelve hours risking my safety—and the Spüktacular wedding brand—to sabotage Hanry’s wedding.
To save a guy who has the noble-mindedness to help his brother but doesn’t have the guts to try and save himself.
I could probably still drag Hanry from the castle, but what good would that do?
We’d get back together, and then what? Be on the run from fairy minions forever?
Rochester would find him, or a pooka would, or even King Tits himself.
As far as I can tell, Bulan has been on the run from his nemesis—Princess May—for centuries, and lately it’s become his full-time job.
At the end of the day, we’d get caught. And Hanry couldn’t protect me from anything. He doesn’t have the balls.
And that’s the real issue. If Hanry isn’t willing to fight for me, then there’s no future for us.
None.
And my future without him?
I close my eyes, visualizing floor six at EFG with its predictable, gray, ninety-degree-angle lines.
That stupid, boring office, where I’m forced to stare at spreadsheets and sit through meetings I can barely endure with my eyes open and make small talk with colleagues about the weather and what we did over the weekend.
Where I’m exhausted by the constant, endless work of making myself unnoticeable and plain. I can’t do it anymore. I can’t.
There’s nothing for me if I go back to New York. No chance my stable accounting job will lead to a nice, well-settled suburb that makes me any happier than EFG has. It’s not going to be enough to own a cute rescue dog. Not even 2.5 children or a boring, sports-jersey-wearing husband will do it.
A future with Hanry, a future without him, it’s… no different.
I see now what I’m made of, and what it is that I want.
And it’s. Too. Damned. Late.