Chapter 15 Rivals & Revels
Chapter fifteen
Rivals & Revels
Ahead of us, a stand of trees grew separate from the rest, looking as though they had been intentionally planted to create a facade.
The differences in their canopy heights, and I suspect no small amount of magyk, created a massive, circular gap in the center—a window of limbs and leaves.
It was illuminated from within by more of the multi-colored orbs, giving the appearance of intricate stained glass.
With every slight breeze, however, the leaves shifted, making the window come alive in flowing, mesmerizing patterns, almost like the colorful fabric of a dancer’s spinning skirts.
At the base of this facade, the tree roots had been pulled from the ground and shaped into elegant archways, through which the crowd ahead of us now passed.
The gray-trunked trees framing a colorful window reminded me for all the world of the cathedral in Nottingham, except that the revelers pouring inside were much less somber than church-goers.
Chatting, laughing, or singing merrily, I suspected the majority were already drunk, and a twinge of apprehension cut across my breastbone.
I had never drunk more than two glasses of watered-down Abbey wine, and had certainly never been inebriated.
Yet, Devil had made it quite clear that human standards of conduct did not apply in the Arden, and a drink sounded far too appealing—a drink that might help me forget about Will, and his ring, and his kiss with Helena, and the fact that he was waiting for me back in the Hollow.
If I could forget, perhaps I could come to terms with the fact that Locksley Abbey was no longer my home.
Not that the Arden was either, but I made a swift decision that pretending for one night couldn’t hurt.
I opened my mouth with a question for Devil, but lost all power of speech as soon as we stepped through one of the rooted archways.
Inside the cathedral of trees, monumental ‘walls’ rose in neat formation, standing like soldiers at attention on either side of us, and the canopies closed overhead, creating a vast, natural hall.
The moon, filtered through a rainbow of leaves overhead, lent a soft, ethereal glow to the entire space, throwing dancing patterns onto the tree trunks and soft grass beneath our feet.
“Mother of Mercy,” I breathed, turning slowly on the spot.
“I am no expert,” Devil murmured in my ear, “but it might be considered ill manners to invoke your human gods here.” I snapped my mouth shut and gathered my skirts, avoiding his strange, piercing gaze.
The twin rows of trees ran south, with gaps between them at regular intervals, curtained off by sheets of colorful, gauzy fabric.
Fay of all kinds drifted in and out of the private areas, holding wine goblets made from polished ocher wood.
The scent of roasted meat suddenly drifted over me and I fought the urge to clutch my stomach again.
“There,” Devil said, as if feeling my hunger pains.
He pointed to a stretch of wall between two alcoves, where long tables had been set out and laden with food.
As we approached, I realized the tables were part of the trees themselves—flat-topped roots growing up directly from the ground.
But the magyk behind this was secondary to the feast on display, which nearly sent me into a state of shock.
The biggest problem was that I simply did not know where to begin.
Devil occupied himself by turning his back to me and monitoring the growing crowd, so I surveyed the spread alone: Enormous leaves served as platters for absurdly tiny, steaming pies shaped like oak leaves, bite-sized balls of soft cheese coated in chopped nuts, and miniscule legs of roasted meat smothered in what smelled like a rosemary and honey glaze.
Wooden tureens of olives, berries, grapes, pomegranate seeds, and cubes of jerky sat between the leaf-platters.
I searched for a plate, ready to eat my own body weight in the Arden’s fare, but there did not appear to be any, and my stomach was about to collapse in on itself.
With a quick glance around, I snatched a miniature pie and shoved the entire thing into my mouth, then let out a long groan.
It was butter-crusted and cinnamon-topped, stuffed with sweet yams and candied nuts.
Another platter of pies, shaped like tiny feathers and topped in crystalized brown sugar, were filled with succulent blackberries and rum-poached pears.
I could hardly help the noises that escaped me as I ate my way along the table, keenly aware of Devil standing nearby.
I had imagined that his back was still turned, and so I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard his voice directly behind me.
“Do not let my hard work go to waste by neglecting that particular dish.” I looked where he was pointing now, toward the end of the table, and my heart skipped a beat at the sight of honey-roasted almonds.
The smell hit me a second later and I felt like I was floating rather than walking toward them.
Before taking a handful, I turned to frown at him. “How did you know?”
Devil just chuckled, “Do not play the wide-eyed, innocent girl, May, it doesn’t suit you.
I thought we established that my little sentries had been watching you for quite some time.
” He released a swarm of magyk fireflies from his fingertips and they zoomed up to circle my head.
From the gentle tickling as they landed in my hair, I could only imagine they’d formed some sort of glowing circlet.
“Well…” I said, releasing a soft sigh, “thank you. They are my favorite.” I took some almonds from the bowl and dropped them into my mouth.
They tasted exactly like the ones Will brought me from the market in Nottingham, and I thought I might be melting into the forest floor.
When I looked back to tell Devil he’d done well, he was already standing several paces away again, speaking to a pair of fauns—a man and a woman, dressed in matching orange doublets with black lace overlays made to resemble beetles.
I stood beside the table for several minutes, munching almonds and trying to identify which creatures the other guests were dressed as.
I spotted foxes, bears, badgers, stags and hinds, rabbits and squirrels and stoats, plus every fathomable variety of insect and bird.
Some had chosen slightly more exotic animals, like peacocks, or golden Pallasian lions, snow leopards, sure-footed white goats, and fishing eagles who inhabited the high, cold regions between the Arden and Messina.
Others had dressed as fantastical creatures I had no names for, but I imagined to be from the vast expanse of ocean surrounding Athenium on three sides.
Just as I was about to interrupt Devil’s conversation with another burning query, a strange sound reached my ears.
It came from one of the alcoves, and I inched slowly toward it, unsure if I was allowed to enter.
A lavender chiffon curtain made its occupants just barely visible in the dim light, but I did not even need to see them to know what they were doing.
The noises were unmistakable—moans and sharp gasps and the slap of skin-on-skin.
I knew I ought to move away, that the curtain had been placed to afford some kind of privacy, but at the same time…
If they didn’t want to be watched, they wouldn’t be doing this here, I told myself, shoving down my terribly human sense of modesty and guilt as I squinted through the sheer fabric.
Inside the alcove were no less than a dozen of the Fair Folk, all in various states of undress, draped across the pieces of furniture growing from the tree roots, which had all been softened by cushions and blankets.
Closest to the entrance sat a long chaise lounge, across which was draped a naked, blonde fay woman, her legs hooked over the shoulders of a tall, burly man with gray, feathered wings.
He gripped her thighs tight as his hips worked, thrusting steadily and pulling a string of decadent moans from her.
Moans I could barely hear, since another woman, this one with blue skin and vine-like hair, was positioned over her face, with the blonde fay’s tongue buried inside her.
Paralyzed by torrid heat, my eyes shifted away and caught on a handsome man sitting on a throne-like chair and boasting a full set of antlers on his head, which had been hung with flower garlands.
Straddling his lap and clinging to his neck was another man with delicate silver and pale purple butterfly wings.
My gaze slid down their sweat-slick, muscular forms, but I finally looked away when I saw how they were locked together between their legs.
Was this too much, I wondered, or was I simply too human to understand?
“Would you like to try?” said someone behind me.
I spun, fully prepared to offer Devil a sharp reprimand, but it was not his mismatched eyes I found watching me.
These eyes were depthless, black, and intelligent, set in a far-too-handsome brown face.
I cleared my throat and stepped away, trying to politely size the man up.
“I meant the wine, of course,” he said with an embarrassed smile, offering me one of the two goblets he carried.
Reflexively, I took it, but did not drink. “T-thank you…sir.”